The Second Page!

Timestamp: July 28
9:13 am

Cloudbuilder led Spitfire through the Administration Hex. He knew the way to the Doc’s office, having been there several times himself. The factories didn’t like reporting injuries amongst their workers, too much paperwork and inspections involved. So they would quietly take ponies who had been injured on the job to a doctor who would patch them up all quiet like. No muss, no fuss, as dad used to say.

Where they were going now was one such Doctor. Cloudbuilder himself had been to see this doc before. His left wing gave a twinge at the memory, it hadn’t been an enjoyable visit.

Looking behind him, he could still see Spitfire there. She was glaring at him, her gaze making her displeasure well known. Still, he could see how much strain flying at such a low altitude and speed was putting on her. She may be stubborn, but that just meant that it was up to him to keep her alive and healthy, whether she wanted it or not.

He had no doubt that she would make him pay for doing this, and he was willing to accept that. But, right now, she needed the help. She was the one organizing everything, keeping it all together. He needed her to be as close to her prime as possible.

Vividly, he remembered the day that he’d found her in her cell, collapsed in a pile of her own mess. She was in so much pain. To be honest, he was surprised she hadn’t come down with an infection, though the antibiotics he slipped amongst her painkillers had probably helped with that. He’d never tell her, but he was afraid. Afraid that she would never be herself again, physically. He’d done the best he could, but was it enough?

Looking at the area around them, he knew they were close. “It’s just down there,” he called back to Spitfire, pointing to a small, one-story building with a hoof. There was a sign out front, and even though he couldn’t read it from this distance, he knew what it said: “Doc Stitch’s Clinic.”

Spitfire said nothing, instead flying down as fast as she was able. They made it in moments, but the landing took far longer than it should have. When she did finally land, off balanced on only three legs, she winced and gritted her teeth as she tried to fold her wings. It was amazing she hadn’t destroyed her wings for a second time already.

“Come on, Spitfire,” Cloudbuilder said. He held the door open for her, leading her inside a tiny waiting room. A mare was sitting behind a desk, though at their entry she looked up.

“Welcome to Doc Stitch’s Clinic. How may I help you?” Her eyes caught sight of their general disheveled, dirty appearance. “I assume you’re here to see the doctor.”

Cloudbuilder nodded. “We are. My friend here had an accident. Quick Fix said we could find help here.”

The mare’s eyes brightened at the mention of his former boss’ name. “Oh course we can help.” She indicated the chairs in the room. “Just take a seat there. The doctor will be with you shortly.”

As Cloudbuilder steered them towards the waiting chairs Spitfire pulled him back towards the entryway with a hoof. If it hadn’t been for the look she gave him, he might not have followed. But, as it was, she looked like she wanted to say something.

“I can do this myself, I want you to go find Soarin’ and bring him here. Now,” Spitfire hissed.

“Not until you see the doc,” he replied. “You can deal with Soarin’ after we leave here.”

“I am seeing the doc, Cloudbuilder,” Spitfire insisted. “I have no idea how long this stunt of yours is going to take, but it’s already longer than acceptable. I need to talk to Soarin’ now, not later.”

“Why? Soarin’s been on his own for two weeks now, and running this... Railroad things for days. What difference does a couple hours make?”

If there was such a thing as a whispered shout, Spitfire had it down pretty good. “Because, no matter how much discretion this doctor of yours has, news of us is going to be public knowledge in no time. I need to act before that new captain has even a whiff of something fishy.”

Cloudbuilder knew that she was right. Word of her being out would soon spread. Yet at the same time, he was the reason she needed to see a doctor in the first place. He needed to know that she would be okay.

“Listen, I don’t want to get in the way of your plan. But your health has to come first. If you’re in no shape to move around, then what?”

“Unless you missed the whole doctor thing, you’ve made it painfully clear that my health is coming first.” Spitfire growled. “I’m not the one moving around anymore, you are. Congratulations, you have successfully become my pawn.”

“I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone. Not until I know how bad it is.” The guilt over what he’d done was eating away at him.

“Celestia...” Spitfire didn’t bother to finish her swear, instead opting to grimace and rub her forehead in frustration. “Are you telling me this doc is shady?”

“No, it’s not the doc. He’s fine. It’s something else.” He silently prayed to Celestia that she would drop the matter. He didn’t want to have to explain himself.

“Does he treat members of the PRF then?”

“No, they have their own medics available.”

“So what’s your deal then? I’m not. Going. Anywhere. If you keep trying to hinder my plans, things are going to get ugly, fast.” Spitfire glared at Cloudbuilder. “I don’t think you want that.”

“I’m not trying to hinder anything, I’m just worri—” He closed his mouth, cutting off the word. That was too close.

Spitfire, who had opened her mouth to interrupt him, snapped hers closed as well. So that was it then. The fool of a pegasus was letting his own guilt, his own feelings, dictate what was best right now. No wonder he’d grown a spine so suddenly.

All the pieces suddenly clicked into place for Spitfire. Cloudbuilder wasn’t doing this as part of some elaborate scheme, he hadn’t been continually trying to annoy her for the fun of it. He wasn’t looking to sabotage her, on purpose, he merely cared.

Well, that was a sweet sentiment, but still completely unhelpful. ’What an idiot.’ Spitfire took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could work around this, all she needed was to get him to trust her. “Okay,” she said simply. “Okay, you can stay. Just please go get Soarin’ as soon as you’re satisfied. I’ll willingly stay here longer if you will do footwork for me.”

It was a dangerous game, manipulating a pony for her own benefits without them knowing. But, he had brought this on himself and Spitfire wasn’t about to let an extra pair of hooves just slip through her own. He owed her, after all.

He sighed. “Okay. I can do that.” He gestured to the seats in the room. “Let’s just see what the doc says, first.”

“Fine.” Spitfire turned away from Cloudbuilder and took a seat. She tried to give the pony behind the desk a reassuring smile, but it felt more like a grimace to her.

“If I could get one of you to just fill out these forms, please,” the mare said, holding out a clipboard.

Cloudbuilder went over to the desk, getting the clipboard and a pen. Taking it back, he sat down next to Spitfire, filling out the sheets. It was all basic things, name and address mostly. He filled it all in as fakes, before taking it back up to the mare, giving her a smile.

He knew the doctor never followed up on confirming the information, allowing just about anypony to come in anonymously. The papers were only to cover the doctor’s own hide if the authorities came knocking. Even if they were falsified, the doc could plead ignorance, or that he couldn’t have turned anypony away.

They sat in silence for several minutes, before the receptionist called to them. “The doctor will see you now,” she said.
“It’s the second door down the hall.”

Cloudbuilder stood up, gesturing to the hallway with a wing. “After you,” he said.

Gritting her teeth, Spitfire rose to her hooves and walked down the hall. The door to the room was open. As she walked inside, with Cloudbuilder following, she was greeted by a fairly small room with a tall bed taking almost half of it. There was a counter indented into the wall alongside the door, effectively giving the door a channel of about four feet to open and close in.

She sat on the bed, Cloudbuilder taking the extra chair that was placed conveniently in the corner. Once again they sat and waited in silence. Spitfire seemed to be trying to calm herself down, but she was fidgeting constantly. Eventually she laid face down on the bed with a sigh and draped her wings down either side of it. Cloudbuilder wasn’t sure if that was comfortable or not, but at least she wasn’t moving anymore.

The door swung open, a green-coated unicorn walking in. His cutie mark was a surgical suture. “Good afternoon you two, how are we doing today?” he asked cheerfully.

Without waiting for an answer, he flipped open the file he was carrying. “Let’s see, Miss Aurora. Looks like you had a nasty accident. Dislocated wing while flying and a bad landing, resulting in a broken leg.”

He ran a critical eye over her cast. “Sub-par bandaging skills, but, adequate, given the materials used. How long ago was this accident, Miss?”

“I— uh. Two-ish weeks ago?” Spitfire stuttered, surprised at the doctor’s forwardness. She sat up on the bed, carefully draping her injured limb down over the side.

“Hmm,” he pursed his lips, staring at her leg. “I’m going to need to remove that cast. Would you like a painkiller?”

Spitfire glanced quickly at Cloudbuilder before answering. “Just so long as it doesn’t make me drowsy, or loopy.”

“Nothing of the sort, just a localized painkiller. I need you awake and responsive.” He opened a drawer in the counter, pulling out a syringe and a small vial. After several moments, he had a small amount of a clear liquid in the syringe.

“F-fine,” Spitfire hesitated. “Get it done, just, be quick.”

“Of course.” He inserted the needle into her leg, just below her flank and above the top of the cast. “Now then,” he said, tossing the used needle into a bin. “That will take a few minutes to go into effect. So until then, let’s take a look at the wing.” He consulted the file. “Which wing was it?”

Spitfire shifted, her eyes darting to the door. “Both,” she finally responded.

The fiery mare did not move until the doctor shuffled forward and pressed his hoof to left wing. “Open your wing, please,” he commanded, though respectfully.

Using a hoof, he gently rolled her wing around, using his magic to keep her wing in place. “Tell me if anything causes you discomfort.” He ran her wing through all the motions of a flap.. She squeezed her eyes shut and hissed out a breath, trying to jerk her wing away, but the doctor held it firm.

“Hey, relax, Aurora,” he said soothingly. “I’m only here to help. It seems just about any motion hurts.” He paused, carefully folding her wing back up and moving to her right side. “You’ve got quite a bit of swelling back here you know. Have you been flying?”

“Yes,” Spitfire gritted as he carefully unfurled her other wing.

He tsked. “Well, whoever reset these wings did so properly, at least. The swelling and pain is only because you refuse to rest. I’ll give you some painkillers, and if you stop flying, your wings should return to normal within a week.”

He let her other wing go, furling it up at her side. “However, insist on using them, and you could put too much strain on the muscles and they’ll tear, which would ground you for months, if not longer,” he warned her, his tone turning from jovial to serious.

He poked at her leg. “Feel anything?”

“Not really,” Spitfire said, hypnotized by the lack of feeling seeping through her lower body.

“Good,” the doctor said, already opening another drawer. He pulled out a surgical knife and floated it over to Spitfire’s leg. “Alright, I’m going to cut this cast off, I need to make sure everything is in order. Which, I’m afraid it’s not, looking at what you filled out on the papers. Why don’t you lay your leg out up on the bed.”

Spitfire did as the doctor asked, stretching her leg out as much as she could. It was odd, seeing it move, but not being able to feel it scrape along the material of the bed.

The doctor floated the knife so the blade rested against the top of the cast. “Now, I need to to hold still, please.”
With sure, deft strokes, the knife bit into the cast. A slice appeared in the material, getting larger and longer with each cut. It took him several minutes, but the doctor got the cast off entirely. He carefully magiced her leg up and pulled the cast out from under it, then set the remains off to the side.

“Now, this is usually where I’d ask you if it hurts, but I can’t do that. So I will do both a physical and magical examination.” He placed both his forehooves next to her leg. “If anything I do makes you uncomfortable, let me know.”

The mare nodded, watching as he got to work. He started out by simply running his hooves along her leg, something she couldn’t feel. He would pause in some spots and press harder, she could see the skin indenting.

She knew what he was doing. Years of being a Wonderbolt and she’d had her fair share of medical issues. He was tracing her bone, feeling it out. Some doctors would have just gone straight to the magical examination, but others felt like they needed to “feel” out the problem, first.

When he was done, he removed his hooves, a frown appearing on his face. “Well, now comes the magical examination. I have an idea of what’s wrong, but I need to be sure.”

His horn lit up, a glow surrounding her leg. This time, she could feel something, a slight tingling as his magic penetrated her skin, scanning her. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply as he allowed his magic to sink into her injury.

“Hmm, yes,” he said after a few moments. The glow around his horn died and he turned to face her. “I’m afraid it’s not good, Miss Aurora.”

Spitfire said nothing, waiting for him to continue. So, he did.

“It’s obvious your bone was broken in the fall. However, whoever reset the bone did so improperly. This means that the bone has begun healing at a bad angle, which is what has been causing you the pain, not simply because it was broken.”
Upon seeing the look on her face, he pushed on. “Now, it’s not all bad. I can fix it, but you need surgery.”

“What?” Spitfire frowned. “Why? Can’t you just do it here?”

When she was back in the Wonderbolts, they always made sure any injures were promptly taken care of. Sure, they never had to re-break bones, since they set them right the first time. But she saw no reason that she had to go into something official as surgery to just have them break her leg again. She’d never had to before.

“The issue comes from the current state of the bone. I can simply re-break it here and now, and reset it. However, because it’s already begun to heal, I need to ensure that it sets in the proper position. If I do that, it will heal just fine. If not, it could continue to heal improperly, which would result in more pain and an inability to walk. Essentially, I need to see what I’m doing.”

Spitfire took a shaky breath. “Alright, how long will that take? Can I stay awake through the process?” As queasy it felt to her letting somepony break her leg again, she wanted to be alert. There was no telling what she might need to do soon after.

The doctor looked uncertain. “I would advise against being awake during the process. It’s my experience that most patients are unsettled by the process. As for how long it takes, no more than a couple hours. I can even get the procedure done today.”

He made a notation in her file. “If all goes well, you can be up and walking again, albeit, with some aid, after a week.”

“A wee—!” Spitfire gasped. She then grimaced and closed her eyes, forcing herself to relax. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s get this done then. But, I want to stay awake.”

“If you’re sure...” When she nodded, he pressed on. “Well, I need to go prepare for the surgery. A nurse will be in here shortly to take you to the room, as well as reapply the anesthetic.” He pulled out a series of papers. “In the meantime, I need your coltfriend here to fill out these forms.”

Spitfire narrowed her eyes. “Why? What does he have to sign when I’m the one getting surgery?”

“Because you need a bath to get cleaned up, no offense but I don’t intend to smell you through the entire operation. And, I cannot allow one as dirty as you into surgery. There’s too much risk of contamination.”

The unicorn pointedly magicked the papers to the brown pegasus. “The nurse will be along shortly to get things started.”

Cloudbuilder, who up until the time had been sitting quietly, took the papers. “I’ll get everything filled out.” He looked at Spitfire. “Is there anything you need me to do while you’re out, Aurora?”

“Yes, please,” Spitfire deadpanned, giving him a piercing glance. “I left what needs to be done on that note I gave you?”

Ah yes, that note. No wonder she wanted to stay awake through the operation. The crazy mare planned to talk with Soarin’ as soon as she could. Cloudbuilder groaned in annoyance, he was probably going to have to go do it. The doctor most likely wouldn’t let him into the surgery. Still, it couldn’t hurt to ask.

The doctor was turning to leave, but Cloudbuilder’s voice stopped him. “Uh, Doctor?”

He paused in the doorway, looking over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“Is there any way I can be in there during the surgery?”

He smiled. “Worried about your marefriend? Understandable. However, I can’t let you in there. You are free to wait out in the waiting room.” With that said, he left the room.

Spitfire glared at Cloudbuilder. “That’s enough! If you don’t go get Soarin’ I swear to Celestia I’m going to castrate you and turn you into my own personal gelding!”

He was taken aback by the threat. She really looked like she meant it. He knew that he’d been pushing his luck by pretty much forcing her to come see a doctor, even if she had really needed it. Now, his luck had run out, and he had to do this for her.

“Okay, I can do that. Though... Is there something you can give me, or tell me to say to Soarin’ so that he knows it’s from you? You and I both know that if I just show up there saying I know where you are, he’s not going to believe me. I don’t think either of us want for me to be spending hours trying to convince him.”

“Tell him he’s a moron and if he doesn’t get his ass back here pronto I’ll geld him too.”

He nodded. “Okay. I’ll fill this paperwork out and then go get him.” He prayed to himself that Soarin’ was willing to listen to and believe him. Maybe her former teammate would be able to talk some sense into Spitfire. She seemed set on a path of self-destruction.

Spitfire watched the stallion hurry out the door. She narrowed her eyes at him as he hesitated and glanced back. When he finally scurried out, she breathed a long sigh and relaxed back into the bed. It was frustrating her already that she was immobile, not to mention her being forced into it.

Still, if she was honest with herself, this was probably what she should be doing. It just burned, hearing it from Cloudbuilder. The one pony who got her into this, the one who was to blame, was now telling her what she needed to be doing, and it irked her that he was probably right. She overworked herself too much, it had cost her in the past and it probably would have cost her in the next couple days.

She continued to brood over her situation until a unicorn mare came in. She was an off white cream with a pale pink mane. Basically, a pony she expected to see here. Spitfire instantly recognized her as the nurse, her quaint cap and clipboard were obvious giveaways. She had a little name tag pinned to a small dress shirt she was wearing. Poppy, it read.

“Hello,” Poppy greeted in a warm voice. “I suppose the doctor has briefed you on everything we’ll be doing. I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have, but let’s get this rolling shall we?”

The nurse rolled a wheelchair into the room. “Yes, you’re using this,” she said as Spitfire opened her mouth with a frown. “Honestly, you pegasi are all the same, too proud for your own good. Need I remind you what the doctor said not minutes before about your wings? And I doubt very much you’d like walking on an injured leg out of a cast, even with the anesthetic.” The mare gave Spitfire a meaningful stare.

“Sit,” she commanded, giving her charge a wink. “I won’t tell your coltfriend when he gets back.”

Spitfire decided she liked this mare, but she tried not to smile. “He’s not my coltfriend,” she groused instead.

“Well then, all the more reason not to tell him,” the nurse said, moving to help transfer Spitfire to the wheelchair. She tutted when she got a close look at Spitfire’s wings, but promptly wheeled her out of the room and deeper down the hall. “Wouldn’t want any... friends... to get this kind of dirt on you,” she continued with a laugh.

Spitfire half sighed, half groaned, but the mare promptly jostled the chair slightly. “Hey, none of that. It’s not my business to ask questions about patients, but whatever’s going on in your life, getting down isn’t going to help anything.

“We’re going to get you cleaned and fixed up,” she continued intently. “But it’s up to you how you’re going to go back out and face the world. Don’t let my work go to waste, yeah?”

That forced a chuckle out of the fiery mare. “I’m guessing you’ve been getting a lot of pegasi these days, huh? What with all the anonymity here.”

“More of everypony, really.” The mare pulled Spitfire through a door, cutting off further conversation as the wheels of the chair began to clatter on bathroom tile. She halted Spitfire right next to a walk in shower.

After putting the brakes on the chair, Poppy continued. “Alright, I’m going to hazard a guess you’d rather clean yourself.” Spitfire sighed, but said nothing, so the nurse continued. “That’s fine, I’ll sit outside the curtains in case you need help. But, I think we both know you aren’t going to be able to handle those wings on your own. So, just let me know when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Spitfire responded, relieved that the nurse didn’t insist. She wasn’t so much an invalid that she couldn’t clean herself. Yes, it would be harder, but it was a whole lot less awkward and embarrassing.

She was only afraid of what the unicorn might do when she got her flank cleaned off. Spitfire missing, or even just Spitfire in general, wasn’t a hard pony to recognize. Her cutie mark had been plastered on posters for twenty years. Of course, that had also been twenty years ago, but somehow she’d continued to receive public attention for years after that.

Still, there was nothing for it. With only a little assistance, she got herself standing upright in the shower with a pleasantly warm cascade of water running down over her fur. It felt like heaven. She stood there for a while, simply letting all the dirt slough off her in waves.

Eventually, she began to move. She didn’t have all the time in the world, after all. As quick as she was able, she scrubbed herself down, taking care around her leg which twinged unpleasantly while she gently washed it.

When she was satisfied with how clean she could get her wings, she stepped out of the shower and the nurse helped her dry off. As the mare toweled her off, she gasped when she passed over Spitfire’s flank.

“It’s you!”

Spitfire tensed. “Is that a problem?”

Poppy blinked a couple of times she shook her head with a small smile. “No, no it’s fine. Of all ponies you were really the last pegasus I expected to see is all. Don’t worry, we wouldn’t be in business if we went flapping our muzzles to any old pony about our patients.”

That was that, as Spitfire relaxed Poppy proceeded to assist her with a number of other mundane cleaning tasks, turning what could have easily been an hour of work into a few minutes.

Shortly, she was wheeled across the hall and through another door. This room had quite a bit more space than the first. It sported various pieces of equipment, plenty of cabinets, an operating table.  Everything seemed to be unnaturally white, befitting Spitfire’s expectations of what an operating room looked like.

Little was said as Poppy assisted Spitfire onto the table. She did run through the various procedures and what Spitfire should expect during, and after, the operation. All of which seemed rather standard, but was nonetheless important.

Eventually, the doctor appeared. “Ah, Poppy. I do believe Miss Aurora requested to stay awake dur—” He stopped as his eyes fell on his patient and her cutie mark.

He blinked, glancing between the two mares who stood staring back expectantly. After a moment he harrumphed and moved in towards one of the counters. “Our patient has requested to remain awake, Poppy. We won’t be needing the I.V..”

Poppy frowned, glancing at Spitfire. “But, doctor, are you sure that’s wise? I mean, what—”

The doctor cut her off. “It is what it is, Poppy.” He glanced at Spitfire. “I was a little hesitant myself, but I think I understand her concerns now, and I shall abide by her request.”

After a moment, Poppy nodded. She wheeled back what Spitfire decided must have been the I.V. equipment and replaced it with a table on wheels. Then she moved to a cabinet and removed a number of syringes and a surgical tray.

“Alright, well, this is a bit different then, Miss...” Poppy said, not finishing the name as she gave the doctor a hasty glance. “I guess we’ll just be numbing up your leg... a lot. It will be fine, of course, but you mustn’t move through the entire operation, or things could go badly.”

Spitfire nodded. “I understand, thank you.”

For the next few minutes, nurse and doctor discussed various plans and procedures as they continued to set up. Spitfire was able to follow the conversation, but it was of little relevance to her. That, and she was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable at her decision to remain awake. They were talking about her leg and breaking it in rather calm, matter-of-fact tones and it was beginning to get to her.

Eventually the doctor turned to Spitfire. “Alright, I think we’re about ready. Nurse Poppy is going to inject your leg again with some more... Well, painkillers essentially. But, they will be quite a bit more potent this time.” Spitfire nodded as he continued. “Now, once again I must stress that you not move during the procedure. If you become uncomfortable, or nauseous, please let us know right away. We’ll keep the I.V. and drugs on standby just in case.”

Poppy moved to Spitfire’s leg and proceeded to inject Spitfire with half a dozen of them right into her injury. She barely felt it as it was, but almost immediately a more complete feeling of deadness fell over her leg. After a minute she watched in fascination as Poppy began manipulating her leg without even the slightest twinge of feeling being registered.

“Can you feel anything?” she asked.

Spitfire shook her head. Poppy then raised a hoof and rapped the leg. Spitfire flinched and hissed, but surprisingly she felt nothing.

“Did you feel that?” Poppy asked again.

Once again, Spitfire shook her head. “N-no,” she responded shakily.

Poppy then moved around to the other side of Spitfire and levitated a tray onto Spitfire’s midsection. She felt that, it was cold!

“Try not to think about it, or watch.” Poppy consoled. “This is a bit new for me as well, patients have always been under, but I doubt it’ll be enjoyable for you. Just, please, don’t flinch like that again.”

“Relax, Poppy,” the doctor said, positioning a light above them.

With that, they got to work. Spitfire watched in morbid fascination as the doctor sliced open her leg at the injury. She didn’t consider herself as a sissy, and had seen her fair share of blood. But this was something else entirely. Knowing it was her blood getting everywhere, her leg being cut into, was making her feel queasy.

Spitfire leaned her head back to watch the ceiling when he took a small saw and began cutting the break back apart. It was surreal knowing they were doing things to her leg, but could only feel Poppy leaning over one side, and them moving the tray on her middle.

Surprisingly, they were done after only a few minutes and the doctor began to deftly sew her back up again. As he did so Poppy began to clean up their mess. When the doctor finished and stepped out Poppy began cleaning Spitfire’s leg again and started to build the cast.

Little was said, Spitfire being content to simply lean back on the table and close her eyes. She tried not to think of what she was going to say to Soarin’, instead trying to focus on the less irritable parts of her plans.


Written with DarkPhoenix

Timestamp: July 28th, The Long Morning
8:51 am

Mirror Shine stood under the showerhead for a few moments, trying to let the running water wash away everything on her mind. She'd managed to completely screw up the meeting with Spitfire, and she hadn't even been able to keep her mouth shut with that stupid Cloudbuilder guy, so she basically had no way of communicating with the former captain.

She hung her head, flailing a hoof around until she caught the shampoo bottle. Not that it would matter, there was really nothing else she could offer – that much had been made abundantly clear, plus on the off-hoof chance they just needed a warm body, Spitfire would probably just send someone to Mirror's apartment (despite her current display of running herself into the ground, Spitfire was good at delegating when she had to.)

There was really no point in continuing to pretend she could manage as a member of the city guard, either. Mirror chuckled, 'If I hadn't promised to turn in a report to Detective Hard Boiled, I'd probably just skip out toda… Buck'

The pale pegasus jerked her head up in surprise, getting a face-full of hot water, followed by shampoo dripping into her eyes, both of which caused her to collapse to the floor of the shower stall.

A moment later a hesitant hoofbeat sounded on the bathroom door, Crescent's voice carrying through "Mirror? Are you alright? I heard some sort of bang in there…"

Unfortunately, Ms. Shine's brain was still occupied with her dual realizations:

1) She hadn't written a report about her encounter with Spitfire yet.

2) She hadn't asked Spitfire what information it would and would not be okay to give out.

Which is why her response was limited to "BUCK!" which she managed to shout several times, "Buck, buck, buckity–bucking buuuck!", as she scrambled up from the floor, bolting past the bemused unicorn as he pulled the door open – correctly identifying distress if not the source thereof.

Leaving a damp and soapy trail, Mirror ran through her apartment, throwing her uniform into a pile on the couch, grabbing a sheaf of paper – before noticing that she had just ruined them by getting them wet, "Luna's tears!" She cried, hopping over the increasingly confused swordpony and back into the bathroom to grab and towel and assault it with her coat.

"Mirror, what's–" she zipped past the perplexed pony, inadvertently draping her used towel across his face and she searched for another collection of loose paper. "Mirror…" She grabbed the guard's vest, pulling on as she wrestled with the cap while she picked up a pen wrong-way-round with her teeth 'Blech!', that had been yet another mistake.

Crescent put his hoof down, "MIRROR SHINE! What in Equestria are you shouting about while running around like a cat with a burning tail?"

The pegasus slowed but didn't pause her frenzied assembly of accoutrements. "Um, right now it kinda' sounds like you're the one shouting." She smiled, weakly. A moment's glance told her he wasn't buying it. "Urgh, I promised the detective I was on patrol with last night that I'd file a report about finding Captain Spitfire and Cloudbuilder last night. It was the only way I could get them to leave… but now I've got to deliver that report, or she'll arrest me and then go after Spitfire."

The pyromancer was taken aback for a moment, "B-but won't that tip Spitfire's hoof to the new Captain?"

Mirror finished assembling her uniform and writing implements, she'd have to write a summary on the train trip. "Hah, don't worry, it's not like I know anything important anyway, so I can tell the truth and it won't even matter." She winked as she threw the door open and took off.

Crescent watched her fly away, frowning, "That's not what I meant…"

Timestamp: July 28th, Administrative Hex.
1:00 pm.

Cloudbuilder flew over the Administrative Hex. He knew where Soarin’s little hideout was thanks to the map that Spitfire gave him. He only hoped that Soarin’ would believe him when he said he was sent by Spitfire herself. It would probably help that they’d never met, so as long as he never mentioned his name. He had no idea if Spitfire had mentioned him before she disappeared.

As he flew, his thoughts kept going back to Spitfire. At this point in time, he wasn’t sure who owed whom anything. Cloudbuilder had gotten her into the kidnapping, and everything that happened to her down there was a result of that. Yet, he’d also gotten her out of there, at great risk to himself. Spitfire, on the other wing, had not turned him in the moment they were safe. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d given him over to that patrol they met right after they had escaped.

Her injuries, what had happened to her down there in the underground, all of that fell squarely on his shoulders. Maybe he owed her, maybe he didn’t. Instead, he felt guilty over it. She may have been a pain in his flank, but nopony deserved that.

He wasn’t even aware if she knew what she was doing to herself. The way she kept pushing herself, it was only going to do more damage to her. She needed to rest and let herself recuperate, yet she was going off on this crusade of hers.

Yes, the city was in shambles, yes, it needed some cleaning up. But Spitfire seemed determined to do everything herself. That attitude was commendable when she was at full strength. Yet, as she was now, it wasn’t good. He worried about her, beyond just when she was going to dump him to the side.

He spotted the ruins of Town Hall from the air. It seemed that there hadn’t been much work done on rebuilding it. With the current climate in the city, that was understandable. Not far from the site of the blast was the building he was looking for.

It... Didn’t quite look like he was expecting, in that it looked normal. Landing on the sidewalk in front of the door, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do, so he opened the door and trotted inside.

There were ponies everywhere. Most of them were pegasi, but there were a couple unicorns mixed in. One pegasus, a mare, came over to him. “Can I help you? Do you need a place to sleep or a...” She looked him up and down. “A shower?”

As much as he desperately wanted a shower, right now, his dirty status hid his cutie mark, so he needed it. At least until after he got Soarin’ to Spitfire. Maybe the Doc would let him take a shower.

“Actually,” he told the mare. “I need to know if Soarin’ is here. It’s urgent I speak with him.”

The mare frowned. “He’s quite busy.”

“It’s important. I can’t tell you why, but please. I need to see him.”

The mare pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. “I’ll ask him if he can see you. What’s your name?”

There it was, the one question he didn’t want to be asked until he was back at Spitfire’s side. She was looking at him expectantly, so he had to come up with something. “Sky Fire,” he said. It was the first name that came to mind.

The mare nodded, turning and heading off. With nothing better to do, Cloudbuilder sat on the floor by the door. At least if things went bad, he could hopefully get out of there quickly.

“Mr. Soarin’?” The door opened after a short knock. “Mr. Soarin’, are you in here?”

Soarin’ was certainly in his little makeshift office/bed hybrid. Asleep on the desk. The mare sighed and rang the little bell on his desk, put there for just that purpose.

“What what what!” Soarin’ cried, stumbling and falling out of his seat as he jerked awake.

“Good to see you’re working hard, Mr. Soarin’.” She teased slightly. “There’s somepony to see you, out front.”

“Alright, alright... I’ll be out soon.”

“Just a warning, boss: he’s very dirty and very smelly.”

“Really? I doubt he’s that bad.”

“Dude, onions smell better than he currently does.”

“...I’ll be sure to bring my nose plug.”

Soarin’ sighed again as he stood and brushed his fur off as best he could with just his hoof, and patted down his mane a bit.

“How’s that?”

The mare rolled her eyes. “You barely did anything.”

“That’s not the point. You said he was out front?”

“Yeah, by the door. Some guy going by the name Sky Fire.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Soarin’ strolled on out of his little office/bed area, the mare staying behind to clean up the desk he’d been drooling on mere moments ago. Just as the mare had said, sitting by the front entrance was a stallion with a coat that was either brown or blue, it was hard to tell under all that grime. The mane and tail were more brown than anything else, and Soarin’ couldn’t see what they might really be colored. The stallion’s cutie mark was hidden under the... well, whatever it was this guy was covered in. The scent forced Soarin’s nose to practically shut down, simply because of how bad he smelled.

Nose scrunched tightly as he approached, Soarin’ greeted the guy. “I’m guessing you’re Sky Fire?”

Cloudbuilder nodded. “I am. Are you Soarin’?”

“I am. Just what is it that’s got you smelling so bad? What, did you go roll around in the mud or something?”

“Not quite. More like hiding out in the sewers. It’s safer down there.”

“No where near as sanitary, though... but I doubt you came here for small talk. What’s up?”

“I have news for you, about Spitfire. She’s in hiding right now, and wants to speak to you.”

Now that got Soarin’s attention. “What?! Where is she? Is she alright?”

He held up a forehoof. “I can’t say anything, not here. Not until you see her. I’ll take you to her.”

Soarin’ frowned. “And how do I know you’re telling the truth? That she’s really alright?”

“She said to tell you,” he looked around for a moment before continuing. “‘You’re a moron and if you don’t get your ass over there, she’ll geld you, too.’”

Soarin’ smirked. “That’s her, alright. I’d like to see her try. Lead the way, Sky Fire.”

Cloudbuilder opened the door, holding it for Soarin’. Once the other pegasus was through, he flapped his wings took off. “It’s not far away.”

Soarin’ nodded as he took off as well. “So how did you meet Spits, anyway?”

That was a loaded question. There was no way he could tell Soarin’ the truth. That would only end with yet another instance of him being chased through the streets by a former Wonderbolt. “Long story. We met only recently, but she’s helped me out a bit.”

“How recently? Because she’s been missing for the past few weeks.”

“It was before the... incident at Town Hall.”

“Ah,” Soarin’ nodded understandingly. “How did you find her?”

“She was in an alley in the Industrial Hex. I’ll let her tell you what happened before that.”

Soarin’ glanced at the stallion, wondering why he wasn’t willing to give more detail on how he found Spitfire. It raised a few red flags in his head, and he flared his wings to stop. “No. I’m not following you any farther until you tell me exactly how you found her. It can’t have been that easy.”

Cloudbuilder came to a stop as well, hovering in the air. He’d been trying to avoid this. Soarin’ would know the truth soon, as Spitfire would tell him. He simply preferred to wait until after Soarin’ had seen Spitfire.

“Listen, Soarin’. Spitfire herself is waiting for you at a clinic not far from here. She’s injured and wants to see you. She sent me to get you, and bring you to her. That mare has been through hell, you can tell just looking at her. I promise, all your questions will be answered in minutes.”

Soarin’ stared into Sky Fire’s eyes and expression, searching to see if there was even a trace of a lie. It took several moments for Soarin’ to sigh heavily. “Alright, alright... I can wait a little longer.”

“Thank you.” That was a load off of his chest. Trying to explain things to Soarin’ without the proof sitting right there would only end badly. With a flap of his wings, he set off towards the clinic, the rest of the journey was made in silence. He could feel Soarin’s stare on his back.

They landed in front of the clinic, Cloudbuilder heading inside with Soarin’ right behind him. The mare at the desk looked up at their entry.

“Oh, you’re back,” she said. “Your marefriend is still in surgery, but you should be able to see her shortly.”

With a nod to her, Cloudbuilder sat in one of the chairs. Soarin’ sat next to him.

Soarin’ glanced at the pegasus next to him. “Marefriend?”

“I guess they kinda assumed that when I brought Spitfire in. Considering we needed a cover, it seemed fitting.”

Soarin’ frowned. “Why would you need a cover?”

“Because, right now, Spitfire doesn’t want anypony to know she’s back.” He thought about that for a moment. “Well, anypony besides a select few.”

Soarin’s frown deepened, but before he could say anything, the doctor came out of the hallway. “She’s out of surgery. Everything went well. You two can see her now, if you want.”

Cloudbuilder said nothing to Soarin’, instead getting up and heading down the hallway. There was a small, one bed recovery room, the sign next to the door being very helpful in that regard. When he opened the door, he saw Spitfire laying in the bed. Her leg was encased in a more professional cast than the makeshift one he had prepared.

She was laying back on the pillows, her face turned towards the window. It was a surprise to see how well she cleaned up. Cloudbuilder wasn’t sure if her relaxed look was because of the anesthetic, or if she had actually unwound a bit. He decided to reserve that conclusion until after she talked with Soarin’.

The moment Soarin’ saw that Spitfire was there, awake, and more or less in one piece, he performed the Wonderbolts’ patented Tackle Hug(tm).

“Oh my Celestia am I glad you’re alive!” Soarin’ cried, hugging Spitfire tightly.

“Celestia damn it, Soarin’!” Spitfire yelled, trying to shove the pegasus off. “Get off! I just got out of bucking surgery!”

Soarin’ only hugged tighter. “Bah, that’s what pain meds are for. Besides, you’ve had worse. I seem to distinctly remember you tearing your wing muscle in the middle of practice.”

The fiery mare didn’t seem to share his sentiment, instead raising her voice even further, “Soarin’! Get the buck off my wing!”

Soarin’ let his grip loosen a bit, but he still didn’t completely let go. Simply because he knew how much Spitfire hated it.

Cloudbuilder waved a hoof at Soarin’. “So, I brought Soarin’ back,” he said weakly.

There was a tense moment of silence. Cloudbuilder watching the two ponies on the bed awkwardly, Spitfire glaring at Soarin’ who, in turn, was trying to hide a mischievous grin. Eventually, Spitfire wiggled loose a hoof and decked Soarin’ upside the head.

Soarin’s grin widened and he finally let go. He took a few moments to examine the extent of his closest friend’s injuries, and felt his smile fade.  “...I’m really glad you’re alright, Spitfire. I was really scared that I wasn’t gonna see you again, considering how much this city’s gone to hell in a saddlebag.”

Feeling uncomfortable at what was essentially a family reunion, Cloudbuilder moved off to the side of the room. If Spitfire wanted him involved in the conversation, she’d let him know.

Spitfire took a moment to compose herself before answering. “Well, you can stop worrying. I want you to tell me what... Exactly, what was going through that wet noodle you call a brain when you broke up my—”

Soarin’ held up a hoof. He knew exactly where this was going. “Because working under Silverhoof was like working under a pony that was some Tartarus-born mixture of Prince Blueblood, our former manager, and a few of the most obnoxious ponies we’ve met.”

“I gave you acting captain authority,” Spitfire deadpanned. “Why did you let him take over if he was that bad?”

“Let? I didn’t let him take over. He just took over. I had no say. He walked in with some stupid order from the council, declaring him as acting captain. After that, it was either disobey and get arrested or fired for insubordination, or quit.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Spitfire let out a frustrated sigh. “Ugh, grow a spine, Soarin’. Their paperwork was no more legal or legit than what I had. With the police force behind you they’d have backed down.”

“Yeah, they might’ve backed down eventually,” Soarin’ agreed. “Unfortunately for me, shortly after Silverhoof arrived, the majority of the earth ponies in the force allied with him. It just went downhill from there.”

Spitfire swore under her breath. She should have just given the commission to Hard Boiled instead of placing it somewhere for Soarin’. But no, Soarin’ had a much better moral ethic than Hard Boiled, even if things turned out for the worse this way, she was convinced she’d made the correct choice.

“Fine, fine,” Spitfire groused. She sat up on her bed, muttering to herself as she put together her bits of knowledge about the situation.

There had to be a way she could get the pegasi back into the police force and roust any goons the new captain had hired. She formed, tested and discarded plan after plan, growing more frustrated by the moment. If only she didn’t have to sneak so many pegasi through the city!

She then noticed Soarin’ and Cloudbuilder watching her. Once again, her frustration boiled up. “I’m still pissed at you, Soarin’. You’ve sure left one big pile of crap for me to clean up, again.”

Knowing Spitfire as well as he did, Soarin’ had expected her frustration and took it in stride. “No worse than than one stunt that Princess Celestia banned.” He then noticed her gaze turn towards the other pegasus in the room. “Hey, who is this guy? He calls himself Sky Fire, but I really doubt that’s his name.”

The fiery mare’s eyes narrowed as they flicked between the two stallions. “First, tell me what exactly you’ve got going with all those pegasi right next to the town hall. Why haven’t the police disbanded you already?”

“Disbanded what? The bunch of ponies mooching off the giant bank account I built up as a wonderbolt? It’s not just pegasi there, Spitfire. The only thing I’m doing is offering ponies down on their luck a place to sleep in a warm building, with a roof over their heads, and it’s definitely not a secret. There’s no point in disbanding something like that.”

“I see.” Spitfire said, then going silent for a moment. “So, what was this I heard about some sort of underground railroad?”

Soarin’ couldn’t help but chuckle. “Just a name that I came up with in about five seconds. It just... stuck.”

Spitfire scratched her head. “Fine, whatever.”

“Besides, you remember that kid we gave autographs to? She and her parents were the first to start staying with us. The kid’s the other half of the reason the name stuck.”

Spitfire sighed and closed her eyes. She could feel her ire bubbling to the surface once again. This sort of thing was unacceptable, it was her job... No, it was her life, keeping this city afloat. She had dedicated too much to see so many lives be ruined by power hungry fools. It tore at her insides that she wasn’t able to do better; that she was stuck, laying in here.

Cloudbuilder looked between the two pegasi. Where when they first came in and Spitfire looked calm, that was gone. Now she looked like she was trying to control herself. He just hoped that she wouldn’t do something rash.

“Listen, guys. I need to think.” Spitfire turned her gaze back to the two stallions still standing over her. “I would also like some food, and for... Sky Fire, to shower,” she concluded, wrinkling her nose. “I think you both had best figure out identities as well.” She glanced meaningfully at Cloudbuilder. “Or I’ll do it for you.”

“Oh thank you,” Soarin’ sighed, as he headed towards the door. “I was hoping you’d let this guy use your shower. Good Celestia, he reeks.”

“You try sleeping in a sewer, see how fresh you smell.”

“Remind me to put it on my bucket list.”

Cloudbuilder sighed. “Listen, I’m gonna track down the shower, you can work on getting Spitfire something to eat.” Giving the two of them a final look, he left the room. Now that Soarin’ had seen him with Spitfire and knew that he could be trusted, maybe he wouldn’t kill him when he found out who he really was.

“I’ll be back soon, Spits.” Soarin’ bid farewell to his friend, heading out to find some food nearby. If he recalled correctly, he’d seen a little cafe nearby on his way in.

As it turned out, Soarin’ had been correct. There was, indeed, a small cafe near the doctor’s office. Recalling Spitfire’s favorite kinds of food from their ‘Bolt days, he made sure to pick up a nice, big sandwich and a little bit of fries to go with it. Shortly after, he headed on back to the recovery room.

Cloudbuilder ran a towel through his mane. The shower had felt wonderful. To just stand under the water and let the weeks of grime roll off him. He thought he felt dirty after pulling an eighteen hour shift in the factory, but this was worse.

Dumping the towel in a bin, he left the washroom. It had taken him forever to get clean, hopefully Spitfire was up to at least having him in the room. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go.

Opening the door to the recovery room, he saw Spitfire sitting up awkwardly in the bed, some food in her lap. Soarin’ was sitting by the bed. If they had been talking, they weren’t when the door opened.

“Uh, I’m back.” He moved into the room, walking past Soarin’, heading for the other side of the bed.

As Cloudbuilder passed Soarin’, something caught the former Wonderbolt’s eye: the cutie mark. Suddenly, everything snapped into place. Mirror’s complicated descriptions and vague sketches all made sense now. This had to the be stallion that kidnapped Spitfire!

Soarin’ lurched to his hooves and cast a quick glance around. What was this stallion doing here? Surely if he was back to get Spitfire again he would have brought backup. But, Soarin’ saw nothing. Maybe this guy was just overconfident, but why hadn’t he attacked Soarin’ right out? Something was fishy, and he wasn’t going to have none of it.

All these thoughts whirred through Soarin’s mind in the span of a second. By the time Cloudbuilder got around to the bottom of the bed, Soarin’ had launched himself out of his seat and powered his hoof right into the pegasus’s jaw.

The unlucky stallion never stood a chance against Soarin’s rage filled speed and was instantly knocked to the ground up against the wall. Cloudbuilder lay there, dazed. He held a hoof up to his jaw where he’d been hit but otherwise didn’t react.

”You!” Soarin’ snarled. “You’re the one who kidnapped Spitfire in the first place! Just what the hell do you think you’re doing here?!”

So Soarin’ did know who he was. How he had learned it was him before he even said anything, he didn’t know. “I’m helping her,” he said.

“And why should I believe that? Every report I read pointed to you as the reason she was kidnapped. So you’ve got five seconds to tell me why in the nine hells I should leave you in one piece. Five...”

“If you stop the countdown, I’ll tell you everything. Or at least, whatever Spitfire allows.” He glanced over at her. “It’s a story that’ll take more than five seconds.”

Soarin’ scowled. “How much longer?”

“Let’s just say that it’s a story.”

“Then I suggest you talk fast.”

Cloudbuilder sighed, sitting on the floor facing Soarin’. “It’s true, I did meet Spitfire shortly before the Town Hall incident. We spoke that night on a rooftop. Well, more like argued. From there, I took part in a firebombing the day of the bombing, where I was subsequently chased and caught by Spitfire herself.

“She interrogated me, then during my transfer to prison, I was rescued by a mare who works for the PRF. I spent several days in a safehouse, before going back home. The mare, Sunny Skies, persuaded me to send a message to Spitfire, asking her to meet me in Cloudberry Park. The pretense was that the PRF had something planned that morning and they wanted Spitfire distracted. I was doing it to protect Sunny.

“I only knew too late that I was distracting Spitfire so they could ambush her and kidnap her. Sunny and I escaped into the Underground, where the PRF had their base. I next saw Spitfire days later, when I was given the task of befriending her, earning her trust.

“I could tell that she’d been beaten. As the days passed, her injuries got worse, until one day I found her collapsed in a pile of her own crap. I convinced the PRF higher-ups to grant her a reprieve from the torture. I took care of her, bandaged her. Over time, we spoke. She told me that she was going to attempt an escape, with or without me.”

He looked down at the floor. “I’d become disillusioned with the PRF by then. They’d used me and betrayed me. Their actual goals are far different from their stated goals.

“I helped her escape into the sewers. We evaded the PRF out for us, and managed to get to the Admin Hex. We ran into a cop patrol, but that one weird pegasus, Mirror, was on it. We convinced them to leave us be. Spitfire and I spent the night in a warehouse. Now, I’ve convinced her to seek treatment for her injuries, and we’re trying to find someplace safe to stay.”

Soarin’ sat there, with his forelegs crossed and a deep scowl on his face. His ire and anger only grew with each word, until near the end when Cloudbuilder talked about helping Spitfire escape and convincing her to come here to the doctor’s office.

Soarin’s hoof once again shot out, decking Cloudbuilder straight across the face for the second time and sending him reeling once more. “That... was for getting her kidnapped in the first place.”

“That’s enough, Soarin’!” Spitfire snapped. “Let him be.”

Soarin’ let out a heavy sigh. “But... considering that you also helped her escape, I can... try and overlook that for now. Don’t take this the wrong way; I still don’t trust you and I definitely still don’t like you. I’d suggest that you start helping the same ponies you’ve wronged before I trust you.”

Cloudbuilder rubbed his jaw. Soarin’ had hit the exact same spot as last time. There was surely going to be a bruise. “I’m helping Spitfire, aren’t I?”

“That’s one pony out of many more that have been hurt because of that stupid group you helped out.” Soarin’ growled.
“You have a hell of a lot more work to do.”

“Right now, my only concern is Spitfire. Once she’s safe, then I’ll see what happens.” Once again, he wondered if she would turn him over to the cops.

Soarin’ sighed again. “Fine. In the meantime, I have to get back to my base. Spitfire seems to trust you enough to watch her back, and I don’t know why. But I’ll trust her judgement. You damn well better make sure she stays safe.”

“I owe Spitfire a lot. I’ll do my best to see she’s safe.”

“And how do you plan to do that? This is a public place. They can get to her whenever they want.”

“We don’t have much of a choice, though. Until she can walk again, she’s stuck here. Right now, only a select few know she’s even alive and out of captivity, much less where she is. This clinic won’t ask questions, nor will they reveal who’s here. I’ll guard her, make sure she stays safe.”

He looked at Soarin’ thinking for a moment. ”Unless you know of somewhere we can hide.”

Soarin’ scratched his chin for a moment. “Well... the only place I can think of would be back at the PUR. There’s this one entrance in the back that’s not very well known. We could sneak in through there. And since it’s a public building, so that will help us keep an eye on her and make sure they don’t come back for her.”

“A public building? Wouldn’t others see her? The point is to keep her hidden.”

“There’s some hidden rooms there that she can hide in. The basement’s pretty secure.”

“That might work. I’m sure Spitfire will want to see you again before she’s ready to leave here. So we’ll be able to work something out.” Cloudbuilder held out a hoof to Soarin’.

Soarin’ stared at the hoof being offered to him for nearly a minute. Then, he finally reached forward and smacked his own against it for a short hoofshake.

“Go take care of your new Underground. I’ll watch over Spitfire until she’s ready to be moved.”

Soarin’ nodded. “You’d better.” Soarin’ turned to Spitfire. “I’ll see ya later, Spits.”

Spitfire, who had remained mostly silent through the engagement, merely nodded. When the stallion had left she turned back to Cloudbuilder and regarded him for a moment.

“Well,” she said finally. “I would much rather be closer to the action if I’m going to be bedridden.” Spitfire narrowed her eyes. “It would be much appreciated if you would look into Soarin’s offer... Soon.”

“You heard the doc, Spitfire. You won’t be able to fly or walk for at least a week. But before then, I’ll talk to Soarin’. By the time you’re well enough to go somewhere, I’ll have something ready,”

Spitfire leaned back and closed her eyes. “It’d better.”


Post made in collaboration with DarkPheonix and Sasha Nein.

Timestamp: July 29th, 10:37 AM.
Soarin’s worry for Spitfire had finally been subdued, relaxed by finally learning that she was alright. But the fact that she had still been hurt badly enough to warrant a secret doctor’s visit, let alone surgery, did not make him happy. So he’d decided to go for a leisurely flight.
For Soarin’, flying had always been the best way to calm down and relax, even back when he was in the middle of shows with his fellow Wonderbolts. Well... that wasn’t completely true, considering how much focus those flight shows had taken, but even that was still pretty relaxing, mostly because of how much fun they’d been.
At least Spitfire’s alive and safe now, he thought mildly, pausing in his flight to hover and look at the sunset over in the east.
...Wait.
“The sun doesn’t set in the east...” Soarin’ muttered to himself, squinting at what he was seeing. “Oh dear Celestia... that’s the agricultural hex! It’s on fire!”
Squinting a bit more to try and see it a bit more clearly, he could see from where he was that the farms weren’t just burning; they were blazing. The fires roared high into the sky, embers flickering up far and away from the source. Their brilliance burned themselves into Soarin’s retinas, and jump-started his adrenaline.
Soarin’ flew as fast as he could back towards the administrative hex, where he could alert the emergency services.
“Fire! FIRE!” he roared not even bothering to land. “There’s a fire in the agricultural hex!”

Timestamp: 29th July 10:35 am, Trinket’s shop.

Burning; that was the best way to describe the weather nowadays. It was even taking a toll on Crescent as he wandered through the streets. Flowers and grass were starting to get a yellow discoloration from the lack of water and were crispy like autumn leaves which was worrying so early. There had been some fires in the storage area where Spitfire and Cloudbuilder had stayed plus some other random places, shortening the city’s water supply even more. Crescent was sure that if someone were to fill the city with water about now, it would be boiling in about an hour.

Crescent wasn’t looking forward to reporting back to Trinket; he’d been avoiding it for a while now. He was very on point when it came to his assignments and having someone show up and basically taking the objective under his muzzle didn’t really appeal to him. Sure, he’d brought the leader of the police force back and intel about the rebellion but he couldn't help but feel cheated out for his mission. Standing outside Trinket’s shop, he dreaded a little to tell him the fraction of info he’d gotten from this Sunny at the tavern. He took a last, heated breath before pushing the door open, making the doorbell pling and probably blowing dust up in the air at the same time.

In stark contrast to the weather outside, Trinket’s shop was surprisingly cool. The air was still arid and dry, but it seemed as if none of the heat of the outdoors had bothered to come within, overpassing the tiny shoppe. The dry air seemed to intensify the scents from within; the smell of aged paper was overwhelming, mingling quite nicely with the same odd incense Trinket seemed to favour. The earth pony in question was not at the counter, however, leaving Crescent alone.

He took the opportunity to inspect the special relics displayed in the cramped store. A type of trident, too big to be used by a pony, caught his eye among the long weapons on one of the walls. Wandering around a display case he noticed some stones in red, green, blue and yellow with what looked like gold in them. There were masks and urns as well but Crescent couldn't say he'd seen any tribe use or make things like these. Then again, he had only gone over Equestria while Trinket had probably gone further out in the world. He went over to the counter and pinged the small bell to see if that would get Trinket’s attention, if he even was in at all.

“Hello, Trinket?” he called. “Anypony home?”

“Just a sec!” Trinket yelled back; his voice oddly had an echo-y quality to it, though the store seemed to muffle sound.

Before Crescent could contemplate this further Trinket wandered in, slamming the door to the storage area firmly shut. He blinked in the light a few times, as if getting adjusted to the brightness — again, this perplexed Crescent, as the shop wasn’t particularly well-lit — before coming over, alternating between smile and frown. “Ah, Crescent. Been a few days, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it took some time to figure out some stuff though I think you already got the info you need.”

“Tell me anyways. You may well have details I lack.”

He took another deep breath. “Okay, what I’ve gathered is that Cloudbuilder has been inside the rebellion but probably betrayed them in his rescue of Spitfire.” He skipped over the part where he had followed them to Trinket’s house. “I actually managed to get hold of Sunny at one point which furthered my assumption on him leaving them. She had gotten the blame for recruiting the one who ran off with their ace card which meant they won’t accept any new members for a while.”

“Hmm, hope Gem can handle herself,” Trinket mused to himself, though he quickly shook his head. “Bah, she’s far more capable than I credit her sometimes.”

Crescent raised an eyebrow. “You sent the gryphon to infiltrate them? I mean, I have no doubt she could give them a run for their bits, it just seems like you weren’t really counting on me to get through.”

“I’d be a fool if I only set a single plan in motion,” Trinket replied amicably.

“Of course, I can see you are a pony who won’t leave anything to circumstances. I just.. I don’t know, I’m probably expecting ponies to put too much faith in me from the start. I bet I probably got more out of Cloudbuilder when he was here.”

It was Trinket’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “You spoke to Cloudbuilder?”

“Uhm, yeah, they kinda met over at Mirror’s place where I’m currently staying after she helped them find a place two nights ago. They came by just to get an update on what was going on at the police station since Mirror was on the pegasi force.”

They hadn’t said they had been here first but that wasn’t a vitally important detail in his eyes at the moment.

“Hmm, so they’re staying at Mirror’s,” Trinket mumbled. “Where does she live again?”

“She lives around Triangle place, mostly a street for theatrics and performers. To be honest I thought you might be more, I don’t know, mad or irritated at the fact I barely caught a glimpse of this Sunny Day mare.”

“Oh, I am disappointed, I assure you,” Trinket said. “But considering how little info I have on her already it’s hardly surprising. Admittedly it was a long shot that I would get anything more on her. I had more hopes about Cloudbuilder.”

“Well, seeing how he hangs around Spitfire like a puppy in a chain you won’t have much trouble finding him. It’s doubtful I can get any closer to Sunny due to the shut-down of intakes for the rebellion group but I’m sure he’d be more than willing to give you some deeper info on her seeing how he was recruited by her.”

Trinket nodded. “Yes, perhaps I’ll make an unscheduled stop by there later tonight.” The earth pony paused a moment. “Is there anything else, erm, unusual you’ve noticed?”

Crescent thought about it. “Apart from the scorching weather, the many burned buildings and more higher earth ponies on the lower levels? No, nothing I can put my hoof on at the moment. Should I?”

“The weather is a tad unusual, I’ll admit,” Trinket said slowly, thinking it over. “Though I guess one can likely attribute that to the weather-workers not having their minds on their tasks as well as they should. One can hardly blame them...” Trinket trailed off, looking over at a bookshelf lines with old scrolls, lost in thought.

“I don’t blame the few weather ponies that’s left for a poor job, it’s obvious the water reserves are being held due to the constant fire-bombings from the rebellion. Though when hot weather even affects someone as used to burning heat as me, it will certainly be a problem for the other  ponies; even the plants are clearly withering away.”

“The plants are withering away...” Trinket parroted, not fully paying attention to the conversation. Abruptly he jerked up, giving a little whinney. “Crescent. What’s the situation with the guards? Where are they not posted?”

The question came sudden on the unicorn. “The guards? I don’t know, I just get my info for them through Mirror, though if I had to make I guess I would say some of the lower hexes, the fires has mostly been from here and up but rarely on the lower ones with the industries and Magitech supplies.” For a second it felt like something twitch in his mind by the last statement.

Without another word Trinket bolted from the store, bounding out the door faster than Crescent thought the stallion could move. Concerned, Crescent followed him outside.

Trinket galloped down the road, twisting and turning around other slower ponies, barely slowing down for so much as an “Excuse me, ma’am.” Left onto Willow, right onto Elm, straight through the next four, then head right for the train station. He skidded on the cobblestones, panting for breath as he ran up the stairs onto the elevated platform and spun towards the east. While he would normally need a few moments to orient himself, he had no problem finding the agricultural hex; the blazing fires probably helped with that.

The flames licked the sky, buildings and plants turning to ash under their roar. Already Trinket could spy a number of ponies — pegasus, unicorn, and earth pony alike — working fervently to quell the fire, but they were fighting a losing battle. Already a third, perhaps even half of the hex was ablaze; Celestia only knew how many were trapped in that inferno.

Crescent came running up to him. “Hey Trinket, what- oh, my….” He froze as he saw what the earth pony was looking at. “This is bad,” was all the swordspony could say.

“I hope you’ve stockpiled food, ‘cause it’s about to become a luxury,” Trinket bitterly deadpanned.

“I-it was okay just minutes ago,” he stuttered, having trouble even finding words. “How could they even- by Nightmare Moon!” Crescent felt a strong urge to kick something in anger but he quelled it.

Trinket exhaled slowly, giving a long sorrowful sigh. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole damned town fell from the sky in a few days at this rate.” He seemed oddly unconcerned about the burning farms.

"That's it, I've had enough!" The unicorn felt a deep anger building up in him. "Trinket, do you have any lead on where the rebellion might be? Just the smallest rumor?"

“Of course,” Trinket said. “Try as they might, they can’t keep every movement of theirs under wraps. That having been said, I doubt I should tell you what I do know.” Crescent opened his mouth to protest, but the earth pony shushed him.

“Now, don’t give me that. You’re in a highly agitated state of mind, liable to do something brash. Go in charging, you’re likely to get yourself captured, crippled, or killed. Or all three.” He paused, glancing around. “That aside, I doubt either of us should be speaking so candidly about these matters in open air.”

“Y-you’re right,” he said, choking his anger. “Anger your opponent and you get more weak spots, probably what they want the RPD to do.”

‘Hey, I wonder how your marefriend is doing under all of this,’ Moontwirl’s voice teased him. ‘I bet she’s up to her ears in duties and order right about now.’

Crescent sneared. “Say Trinket, do you possibly have some more of the mind-blocking potion? My head has been a bit troublesome lately.”

“Back at my shop, yeah,” Trinket replied. “Ah, but, I would have to charge you this time.”

“I’m willing to pay, having more than my own thoughts in my head gives me headaches.” They headed back to Trinket’s shop. The earth pony was silent and sombre, his head low in thought.

The two arrived at Trinket’s shop after a short time; the cool air indoors was much preferable to the blistering heat, though neither was able to forget about the blazing inferno in the adjacent hex.

“So,” Crescent said as Trinket looked for the potion. “How do you think Gem’s doing?” An awkward question but it was better than nothing.

Trinket grunted as he searched his shelves. “Not sure. Been a few days since I saw her. Regrettable, but a necessary part of her assigned task. Dragonsbreath? I thought I was out of that...”

“I’m kinda worried about Mirror. I’m pretty sure she was to patrol around that area today though I can’t really remember.” He couldn’t help but anxiously bite his lip.

“She’s likely helping with fire containment. Even if she wasn’t in that area at the time, she’d likely be there by now. And that aside, she’s a pegasus. Easy for her to fly above danger. Cockatrice oil? This stuff’s illegal. Why is it out here?”

“You said you had some lead on where the rebellion might have an outpost? I realize barging in is suicide but I’ve gotten nothing but useless tips while I was looking for Sunny and Builder. I will at least be able to come up with some sort of battle strategy but for that I need to have a look at the place.”

“Ah, found it.” Trinket pulled out a bottle from his shelf and walked over to the counter, grabbing a smaller vial and filling it. “Hmm, we’ll say, twelve bits.” He pushed the vial towards Crescent before continuing. “And you’re not likely to need much strategy. Some members have taken to meeting in a park over in the Admin district. Hard to tell them from normal ponies at a glance, though. You’d need to recognize a face or two to be sure. A better bet would be this warehouse over in Industrial. Lots of ponies visiting it that don’t look like the working type.”

“Hmm, I’ve been around the Industrial district the first weeks I was here so I know my way around there.” He took the bits out of the sewn in pouch in his outfit and put them on the counter. “Any specific type of storage facility they tend to meet? I’m guessing they’re smart enough not to meet at the same place each time.”

“You’d be correct there. Unfortunately I’ve not been able to pin down any sort of schedule. They likely use some convoluted cypher to determine meeting locations and times. To any outsiders it’d be difficult to break it.”

“So basically I have to roam around and just hope for the best?” He sighed. “That will take a while but after today I won’t back down, I’ll find them and see what I can get out of them.”

“If it’s any help, avoid condemned or closed buildings,” Trinket added. “Interestingly enough, PRF members have been avoiding those. They prefer buildings that have honest workers within. Works better as a cover story, I’d say.”

“Crowded workplaces, got it.” He opened the bottle and, with a dreading look, took the liquid in one swig. A shudder went through just as last time, it hadn’t gotten the least better since last. “Can’t believe I don’t get drunk on this the way it burns,” he coughed as he sat the container down again.

“Technically speaking, it’s not an alcohol, but a kind of juice or cider,” Trinket explained, taking the vial back and setting it behind the counter. “Still, try not to overdose on it. I was in a coma for three days.”

“So you’ve tried it too? As testing or did you also have a compelling voice of your own?”

“Mm. Kinda both, I’d guess. Caught myself a magical parasite down in Zebafrica. The shaman said the tears would help block out its influence. Considering by that point I was malnourished and half-delirious from magic deprivation, I chugged the entire cup. Didn’t get rid of the parasite, but it did send me into a magic-induced coma for a few days.”

“Hmm, you said your remedy would clench my mind if it was something of that nature, I’m guessing either it’s something immune to the tears or that… it’s something else…” He trailed off but shook the thought off. “Either way, I thank you for helping me out.”

“It’s no problem. And like I said, the tears just create a magic shield around you. Like with all spells, if you don’t maintain them they tend to fail. This isn’t a permanent solution; more like a stop-gap to keep you at your best while you figure out the root cause.” He thought for a moment before continuing, “Ah, and about the tears. Try not to become dependant on them. They’re rather addictive in higher doses.”

The unicorn smirked. “Well, I already got a slight alcohol problem, plus I’ve only seen you selling these tears so it’s not very likely but I’ll be careful.” He headed for the door. “Oh, if I come across Gem, should I tell her something?”

The earth pony shook his head. “Nah. She’ll be fine on her own for the time being. ‘Sides, wouldn’t be good for her to run the risk of being associated with too many ponies.”

Crescent nodded. “Right then, I’ll stay quiet. Hopefully I’ll see you around.” The door plinged again as he left the packed store.

‘So, you’re gonna go and look for, what, the Sunny mare you met at the bar? I highly doubt she will move outside for quite some time. She and the leaders will stay far away from the streets so you’re only gonna catch small fry.’

“Small fry is better than boots and nothing at this point,” Crescent replied to the voice in his head. “Beside, it’s a lead and it’s better than just sitting on my flank like I’ve basically have been doing the last days. I’m gonna roam around the warehouses until I get something and not you or anypony else will stop me.”

‘So that’s why you asked for that potion, because you thought I would try to stop you?’ Her voice had already started fading to a whisper. ‘And here I thought I was the one reading your mind.

“That, plus the fact that I don’t want you keep commenting on my worry for Mirror. A voice in the back of my mind will only distract me even more than my feelings after this mass fire so that’s why I’m silencing you.”

A faint giggle went through his mind. ‘Oh trust me, I won’t stay silent for long. I’m your conscience after all and you can only keep me quiet for so long.[i/]’ This was the first threat which felt like it had something real behind it and it added another layer of worry on top of those he already had. He really started to doubt his ‘conscience.’

Meanwhile, in the shop, Trinket muttered to himself as Crescent left. “Damn, the farms are on fire. I’m running out of time.” He sighed as he walked over, locking the front door and switching the rather drab ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’. “I need to step up my plans. Got a job to do, after all.” Taking a final look around the shop to ensure he hadn’t locked any prospective buyers in, the earth pony headed into the rear of the store. “Good thing I’m not claustrophobic...” he muttered.


Today’s salad was made by fresh lettuce from Tricondon and juicey carrots from Dr.Techno

July 29, The Long Morning
09:45 am

"You've got to be kidding me," the mare groaned.

Hard Boiled wasted another two seconds trying to decipher the messy scrawls with a distinctive zig-zag at regular periods. She gave up and crumpled the report, rendering visible the culprit of this crime against legibility. "Lemme guess, you tried to write this in five minutes on the train?"

Mirror Shine had the good grace to be embarrassed as she nodded. "Um, y-yeah. I can... uh, I can rewrite it right now. But I need to tell you–"

Sgt Boiled's eyes narrowed. No, she was embarrassed about something else. Having trained more than her fair share of recruits, the unicorn knew the enlistment jitters. Typically, this is when she'd pat the pony on the shoulder and tell them there was nothing wrong with admitting they weren't up to the job – their reaction would cement Hard's impression of whether they belonged on the force or not.

This wasn't a normal case. The career mare added furrowed eyebrows to make her expression a glower. "You swore an oath, didn't you?"

The pale pegasus was startled, nodding without thinking. "Uh, y-yeah. But–"

"But nothing. Soarin' and the others may have been justified in walking out of here, but it certainly doesn't make the job of any of us who stayed behind any easier. I checked the rosters, did you know there are only three pegasi left, and that's including the office pool?"

Mirror shook her head. In truth, she had thought she was the only pegasus still present.

"Yeah. So you know what? That would be a terrible reason to tell you to stay here." Hard Boiled couldn't help grinning a little when the albino did a double-take. "No, I'm telling you not to turn tail because we need every remotely honest pony we can get, and because eventually we're going to need to be able to talk to your friends."

Cadet Shine's face fell, and she addressed the floor with her reply. "They're not really my friends, they didn't even–"

"I'm a little short on time, so I'm going to sum this up in one sentence: You tackled Spitfire and you can still walk." Hard Boiled watched Mirror's face as she worked through the idea. "Because I'll tell you, I'd rather face any of our patrol-ponies in prime condition rather than that lady with three broken limbs in a fight." It really wasn't much of an exaggeration, really.

Mirror wasn't sure what she should be feeling, and sat down in a chair, before a feather knocked her over or something. "I–"

The unicorn waved a hoof, pushing the speech aside. "Whatever. This report is unacceptable, I expect a properly written one, tomorrow. In the meantime, I need your hooves on the ground..." The sergeant grinned, "Or in the air, really."
Magic levitated a memo in front of the cadet. "These are your patrol orders for the rest of the week."

Mirror plucked the paper from midair, absently saluting the officer as Sgt. Boiled stalked off.


July 29, etc. ...
10:36 am

Mirror Groaned, covering another interminable length of farmland. 'Really, Sarge? You're having me patrol Dirt!?' The pale pegasus pony groused to herself. She frowned, something odd catching her nostrils. Like woodsmoke. Which was odd, since waste burning was banned during this 'dry' period...

She flew up several strides in the air, turning around to find... a raging blaze spreading across several fields, already leaping small paths.

"You've got to be kidding me," the mare groaned.

Timestamp: July 29,
10:34 AM

Cloudbuilder sat on a chair in Spitfire’s room. The mare was writing on some paper that she’d ‘requested’ he go get. What she was writing, he didn’t know. So until she had need of him, he sat over in the corner, reading a book that Poppy was nice enough to bring in for him.

He’d spent the previous night on a hospital bed, lacking anywhere else to go. Well, he could have gone to the PUR, slept in their basement, but the less he was outside the better. That would require traveling there at night, then back here in the morning to keep an eye on Spitfire.

Idly, he turned the page. Poppy had given him some sort of romance novel, rather steamy. Not his first choice of reading material, but he wasn’t in a position to be choosy. And if he was being honest with himself, he actually found it rather intriguing.

The only window in the room was small and set high up, most likely to prevent passersby from peeping in on recovering ponies. He had the curtains drawn anyway, just in case some pegasus did decide to look in and maybe recognized Spitfire.
The subtle sounds of the street could be heard outside, though he’d tuned them out. However, something was niggling at the back of his head. It was annoying.

Finally, he put down the book. Looking around the room, he noticed nothing amiss. It took him almost an entire minute before he realized what it was: The sounds of the street were louder. And more fearful. He could hear a pony occasionally scream, though it sounded distant.

“You hear that, Spitfire?” he asked.

She didn’t even look up from her papers. “Hear what?”

“Outside.” He flew up to the window. Without opening the curtains, he unlatched the window and pushed up, opening it. The sounds of the street were now much louder.

He could see ponies rushing around. There was a single scream, but it was far off. Along with the sounds, the breeze brought something else in with it. There was a smell in the air, a tang. Smoke.

“Ponies are definitely rushing around. I smell smoke, too.”

That got Spitfire to look up. “You sure?” she asked. When he nodded, she gestured to the door. “Go take a look.”

“Are you su—” Her flat look cut him off. “Of course you’re sure.” Closing the window and relatching it, he fluttered over to the door, landing on his hooves and trotting out of the room.

Heading down the hallway, he saw Poppy sitting at the front desk. “Hey,” he said, getting her attention. “You know what’s going on outside?”

She shook her head, flipping a page in her magazine. “No idea. I’ve seen a few ponies rush past, but given what’s been going on lately, I feel better just staying right here.”

Cloudbuilder could certainly understand that notion. Sometimes, he wished he’d done the same. Then he wouldn’t be involved in this PRF mess and living each day in a constant state of worry.

Giving her a nod, he opened the door, stepping out into the street. From where he was, he couldn’t see anything. At least, until he looked down the street.

A huge column of smoke was rising into the sky. “What the hell?” Something was seriously burning to cause that much smoke. It wasn’t another explosion, as they would have heard that. The Town Hall bombing had been heard all across the city.

Spreading his wings, he took to the skies. Rising above the level of the buildings, he finally saw what was going on.

The Agri Hex was on fire. Getting a little higher, he peered across the way. He couldn’t be sure, but a lot of the Hex was on fire. Certainly more than one field, as there were several distinct smoke columns. Focusing his eyes, he could just pick out the shapes of ponies running around.

This was bad, very bad. The Agri Hex supplied almost all of their food. If it burned down, ponies would start starving. They’d have to ration what little food was left. If it was just one field on fire, he could understand that it was an accident. But this was multiple fields, this was deliberate; accidents were rectified quickly, someone had let this go and the dry heat wasn’t helping matters.

If it was the PRF, then they were insane. Town Hall was one thing, that was a message. This? They were only hurting themselves, unless they had enough food stored away somewhere to last.

Quickly he glided down to the street, landing just outside the clinic. Throwing open the door, he raced inside. Ignoring the questioning look Poppy gave him, he rushed down the hall to Spitfire’s room.

He opened the door so hard it slammed into the wall. “It’s the Agri Hex!” he shouted. “It’s on fire!”

Spitfire looked up sharply. “What’s on fire now?”

“The Agricultural Hex. Ya know, where all the food fields are? It’s on fire.”

The bedridden mare stared at Cloudbuilder for a moment. It was hard to decide what to ask next. Was he panicking and this wasn’t that big of a deal? Was the whole hex on fire? What if she decided to try and get out of bed right now, what would he do then?

Finally, Spitfire decided on: “Details, Cloudbuilder, details. Is the whole hex on fire? Is it losing altitude?”

“No, no, it’s staying afloat. As for how much of it is on fire, there’s so much smoke it’s hard to say. At least half a dozen fields are flaming. I’d say anywhere from a third, to half the hex is on fire right now.”

Spitfire cursed under her breath. Where in the hay did this come from? There was no way this would be the PRF. It didn’t make sense, their leaders were fanatical, yes, but they weren’t this dumb. At least, she was pretty sure. Maybe it was the Earth ponies panicking? Maybe planning to seize all food control and starve the pegasi out?

Well, whatever it was, Spitfire wasn’t about to let something as pivotal as food supply end up in the power of either party in this struggle. Something needed to be done, and done now. She was all out of time.

“Cloudbuilder.” Spitfire gave the stallion a level look. “I’m not sitting this one out. If you insist, find me a chair or something, but you’ve got five minutes.”

“What? What happened to laying low? If you just show up there, everypony’s going to know it’s you. No more hiding then.”

“Then it’s no more hiding,” Spitfire said with finality.

By this point, he knew better than to ask if she was sure or not. She always was. “I’ll find something,” he said. This was a clinic, surely they had a wheelchair around here somewhere.

Leaving the room, he considered asking Poppy, but dismissed that idea almost instantly. There was no way the nurse would help them leave. She’d probably strap Spitfire to the bed. No, he’d have to do this alone.

Fortunately, he had an idea of where to look. There was a door labeled “Supplies” that he’d never bothered to open. While it was most likely simply medical supplies, there was still a chance.

Heading down the hallway, he opened the supply room door. Inside, there were several shelves stocked with bandages, pill bottle, surgical supplies, everything needed to keep a clinic running. As he looked around, he didn’t see a wheelchair.
He entered the room, taking a closer look. Heading past the shelves, he struck gold. Tucked away in a far corner, was indeed a wheelchair. It was one of those foldable ones, sitting between a shelf and the wall.

Grabbing the wheelchair, he picked it up and unwedged it. Carefully, he unfolded it and gave it an experimental push. The wheels turned, and didn’t squeak. It was well maintained.

Awkwardly walking on his hind legs, he pushed the chair over to the door. Looking out into the hallway first, he saw that the coast was clear. As quickly as he could, he darted back down the hall, ending up in Spitfire’s room.

“Here, I found this.”

The pegasus was already sitting up on the bed, ready for a transfer. She made short work of hopping up and planting herself in the chair before Cloudbuilder could move.

Spitfire swung a hoof towards the door. “Let’s go! To the train station! Move it gramps, granny’s got places to be!”

Turning the chair around, Cloudbuilder exited the room. Rather than head to the front door, where Poppy would most certainly stop them, he headed the other direction. When looking for the bathroom last night, he’d stumbled across a back door to the clinic.

“What are you doing?” Spitfire asked sharply. She gestured again. “The door is that way.”

“You wanna try going out the front door, past Poppy?” He pointed ahead of them. “I found a back door last night.”

“Fine, whatever,” Spitfire groused. “It really doesn’t matter at this point, although it would probably be best that she knows we’re leaving. After all, it’s not like she could stop us, or has much reason to.”

“We can always come back after. At the very least, we do owe them bits.”

“Move, Cloudbuilder,” Spitfire said, overriding his last sentence.

Cloudbuilder didn’t say anything, only moving as fast as he could down the hallway. When they got to the back door, he used a wing to open it. It led into a narrow alleyway between buildings.

Pushing Spitfire out into the alley, he turned onto the nearest street. Given what was going on, the sight of a pegasus pushing another in a wheelchair, wasn’t attracting any attention.

“Are the trains gonna be running during this?” he asked the mare.

“They damn well better be,” Spitfire mumbled. Then louder she said, “They’ll probably be working to haul rescue ponies on and civilians off. At least, that’s what I’d be having them do.”

“But you’re not in charge,” he reminded her. “Who knows what Silverhoof is doing.”

“Thank you Captain Obvious for your astute observation,” Spitfire sniped. She then sighed and continued in a neutral tone. “Just get me to the station, Cloudbuilder.”

He didn’t respond, instead focusing on pushing the chair. Walking like this was odd, but he could do it so long as Spitfire’s chair was there for him to balance on. The going wasn’t as fast as running, or flying, but it was steady.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at the train station. A quick word with the ticket window pony, and it turned out that the trains were still running. They hadn’t received any official word on what to do, so at the moment all trains were focused on helping out with the current crisis.

With a little convincing, Cloudbuilder was able to get them on a train into the Agri Hex. He was able to do so without mentioning Spitfire’s name, instead saying that they were with Soarin’ and his crew. The mare behind the window raised an eyebrow, especially since Spitfire was currently sitting in a wheelchair, but she let them through.

“Take us to the front,” Spitfire said, pointing at the car nearest the locomotive.

Cloudbuilder did as she asked, taking them into the very front car. Nopony was really travelling, so they had the entire car to themselves. He set Spitfire in the aisle, locking the wheels on her chair so she didn’t move around. He then sat right next to her.

It was barely a minute later before the train began moving. Immediately, Spitfire turned to Cloudbuilder. “I need you to head into the control car there and tell that pony to come out here as soon as he get’s the train up to speed. Go ahead and tell him who I am.”

He got up from his seat. The door into the conductor’s area was unlocked. He slid it open. The conductor looked back at him, a Unicorn stallion. “Hey! You can’t be in here.”

Cloudbuilder held up a forehoof. “One of your passengers, Spitfire, requests for you to come into the first car as soon as this is up to speed.”

The unicorn’s jaw dropped. “Spitfire? I thought she was dead.”

So rumors really had spread around after she disappeared. “She’s not dead. You can come out there and see for yourself.”

The conductor gave him a hard look. “If you’re messing with me...”

Cloudbuilder shook his head. “No. I’m not.”

Pressing a few buttons, the unicorn stood up. “Fine. After you.”

Cloudbuilder backed out of the conductor’s area. The unicorn stuck his head out. Upon seeing Spitfire sitting in the wheelchair, he did a double take.

“Whoa. You really are not dead.” He stepped into the car. “What do you want, uh, ma’am?”

“I’m sure the dispatcher has informed you of the situation in the agricultural hex?” Spitfire asked. Barely waiting for his nod, she continued, “I need you to get us there as fast as possible. Although I do want you to stop at the next stop, we need to see if we can’t pick up any ponies who can help. But, I need you to keep all the doors closed except for the ones on this car. Can you do that?”

“Certainly.”

Spitfire nodded decisively. “Then step to it.”

The conductor nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” He headed back into his area, closing the door behind him.

Cloudbuilder stared at Spitfire. “Now what?”

“Now, we wait,” Spitfire said. “When those two doors open again I need you to inform everypony outside that the train is closed to regular traffic. But, you need to let on anypony that looks like a firefighter or rescue worker.” She tapped a hoof to her chin. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to accept volunteers either, so you better throw that out there.”

He took his seat next to her. “I can do that.”

Several minutes passed where the only sound was the train as it rolled along the tracks. Cloudbuilder squirmed in his seat, unable to stay still. His forehoof wouldn’t cease doing something, from scratching his arm, to tapping on the empty seat next to him.

Suddenly Spitfire turned to the antsy stallion. “Will you stop fidgeting? You’re acting worse than a colt with ants under his tail.”

“What?” He only then seemed to notice what he was doing. “Oh, sorry.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be, nervousness isn’t productive.”

Cloudbuilder gave her a flat look. “Thanks, Spitfire.”

“Listen, Cloudbuilder,” Spitfire began, her tone serious. “It’s pretty obvious you’ve been struggling with some moral issues these past couple of days. Unfortunately we, and I mean you, haven’t had any time to think through very many choices.”
Spitfire paused for a moment, seeming to struggle with her next words. “I’m glad you chose to get me away from the PRF; and I suppose it was probably for the better that you waylaid me to that doctor.

“As frustrating and galling as it is for me to say it, I need you right now. There isn’t much I can do on my own, and for rather obvious reasons I’ve gotta trust you, completely. But, you’ve also got to trust me. You helped me escape because you believe in me and what I can do for this city.

“I can’t do this alone, and I mean physically. I need somepony I know is on my side to be with me all the way. If there is something that needs doing, it has to be done. That somepony needs to be you, I can’t be everywhere at once, and fate seems to have laughed in both our faces. But, you’ve got to put aside any doubts or fears, you gotta trust me to make smart choices and you need to follow through without any hesitation.”

Spitfire took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t be nervous. You let me worry about being nervous, whether it’s over fires or police or whatever. If we’re going to save this city, we’ve got to move and think without our feelings clouding our judgement.”

Cloudbuilder stared at Spitfire. He’d never expected words like that to be said by her. If she wasn’t insulting him, she was ordering him around. Yet now she was not only admitting that she was glad for his actions, but that she needed him as well.

He still wasn’t sure just what he could do for her, he was just a pony who loved working with clouds, not some fighter like her. But at least with her admission, he could lay to rest his fears that she’d abandon him as soon as she got her power back.

“Thanks, Spitfire,” he said again, this time with a far more sincere tone. “But, why me? What about Soarin’?”

Spitfire frowned. “What about Soarin’?”

“Why not have Soarin’ be your right hoof pony? You have a long history with him, and he’s not the one who got you, got us, into this situation. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be the police captain.”

The mare shook her head dismissively. “Soarin’ isn’t here right now. He has his own obligations. But you are here, and got me, us, into this situation; so you can help get us out.” Spitfire narrowed her eyes at Cloudbuilder. “And, unless I’m missing a few clouds, you owe your dedication. I don’t think you’d appreciate being locked away anyhow, would you?”

Cloudbuilder sighed. “I owe you a lot, Spitfire. More than just my dedication.” He put his head in his hooves. “I’ll do what you want me to. But your health and safety still has to come first.”

“Anything?” Spitfire queried with a smirk.

“So long as it doesn’t compromise you, then anything,” Cloudbuilder agreed.


10:39 am

The train began to slow. It wasn’t the normal ease that one would usually expect with a passenger train, instead being much more abrupt and nearly throwing Cloudbuilder out of his seat. He thanked Celestia for having put the brakes on Spitfire’s chair.

There was no informational monotone blaring over the speakers. Instead, the voice of the conductor crackled into existence. “Alright we’re at the Residential hex. I’m only opening the doors to your car, just tap my window when you’re ready to go.”

Cloudbuilder stood up. “I’ll... Think of something to say.”

He stood in front of the doors. A moment later, they opened, revealing a several groups of ponies standing on the platform. The ones in front of him waited patiently for him to get off, looking confused when after a moment, he didn’t. The ones standing in front of the doors that didn’t open were muttering to themselves.

Taking a deep breath, he took a single step out of the car, his wings flared to prevent ponies from pushing past him. “Your attention please,” he said weakly. When he realized the ponies were still looking confused, and getting anxious at the disruption to their schedule, he cleared his throat and tried again.

“Your attention, please!” he called loudly. Heads turned in his direction, a silence falling over the platform. Perhaps sensing that something else was going on, the ponies at the other doors came down to hear.

“This train is not running on its regular schedule.” Several ponies grumbled something, but he continued on. ‘Channel Spitfire,’ he thought to himself. Easier said than done. “You all know about the fire by now.” He pointed a wing towards the rising smoke in the next hex. “We’re going there.”

He gestured with his head behind him. “Any firefighters who wish to help out, please step aboard the first car. Also, anypony who wants to volunteer their assistance, we could use your help. Only ponies and beings above the age of majority.”

With his piece said, he stepped aside, folding his wings. No one moved for several long moments. Finally, a pony, a large Earth Pony, stepped forward. “I’ll help out.” He moved past Cloudbuilder and into the train car.

Several more ponies, and one gryphon, also spoke up, entering the car. After those five were in, nopony else moved.
“I apologize for disrupting your schedules,” Cloudbuilder said. “I’m sure the trains will begin running regularly soon.” He stepped back inside the car. The five volunteers, the earth pony, two unicorns, a pegasus, and the gryphon, were standing around, most of them eyeing the wheelchair bound Spitfire.

As the ponies stepped onto the car the wheelbound mare waved them towards her chair. When it seemed that no more ponies would be coming she caught Cloudbuilder’s eye and jabbed a hoof at the small window behind her.

Bypassing all of them, he went up the the conductor’s door. He rapped hard on the little window. A moment later, the train car doors closed and the train left the station.

Immediately Spitfire began talking, her voice strong and loud, easily carrying over the sound of the train. “Alright everypony, I want to thank you for your time and willingness to serve. Now, I don’t have any idea what to expect when we arrive, but if you all will bear with me for a moment I can put you to work quickly.

“Firstly, I would like you all to introduce yourselves, to me and each other.” Spitfire gave a little wave. “Hi, I’m Spitfire.” She then gestured to the gryphon, who was standing closest to her, holding out her hoof for a quick shake.

Each of the ponies and the gryphon walked forward and introduced themselves to Spitfire then their fellow volunteers. Any questions about herself Spitfire quickly waved away, intent on getting through the introductions.

A minute later and she had the names of the five volunteers and each of them were looking a lot more amicable, if confused. After a moment, Spitfire continued with her short speech. “I apologize for my unorthodox appearance, I’m guessing it’s a bit of a shock to most of you. Well, that story is going to have to wait, right now we’ve got a job to do.

“We have a few minutes before we arrive and I need harp on safety. I will not be placing you on the front line as it’s too dangerous and I don’t have time to quiz you on your fire smarts. But, there will be plenty of work to do and it could be anything. However, we cannot have you running around mindlessly.” Spitfire’s eyes narrowed and her voice grew hard. “You will do as your told and nopony, I repeat, nopony will be trying to act the hero. You follow orders and things will get done while everybody stays safe, understood?”

She nodded in satisfaction as a murmur of assent rose from all present. “Good, now why don’t you all get to know each other a little better for the last couple of minutes. Gaining a little trust for those you’re going to work with is infinitely more vital than anything I could possibly tell you at this point.”

The entire rest of the ride was spent making small talk. Everypony wanted to know why Spitfire was in the wheelchair, but she just deflected the questions. Now was not the time to be getting what had happened to her.

Cloudbuilder himself received numerous questions, especially as he apparently looked like Spitfire’s right-hoof pony. Which he supposed he was, in a way. He, too, deflected them, though with less grace than Spitfire.

Eventually, they arrived at the Agri Hex stop. The conductor came over the speakers, informing them that he’d only open the doors to their car, and they could get off. Once they were gone, he’d open all the doors, ferrying any ponies who wanted off the Hex, away.

With a shuddering jerk, the train came to a not so smooth halt. The gryphon, being the largest of the group, was in the front, to dissuade others from rushing on. Cloudbuilder unlocked Spitfire’s chair, the two of them in the middle of the group.

The doors opened and the gryphon marched forward without hesitation, the others following. After they were gone, the others doors to the train opened, releasing the floodgate of panicked ponies. Hardly anypony noticed the group getting off; those ponies on the platform were more concerned with getting on the train than watching a group of ponies, and one gryphon, leaving.

Taking the ramp off the platform, Cloudbuilder leaned down and whispered in Spitfire’s ear. “So where are we going?”

“Forward,” Spitfire commanded, throwing a hoof towards the fire. “We need to figure out who’s in charge and see what we can do to help. Everybody stick close.”

A glance was all that was needed to confirm Spitfire’s fears. Almost a quarter, although it was hard to judge, of the hex was on fire and it was quickly spreading. She saw no organized line of defense, most of the workers seemed clustered around deflecting the fire away from the buildings before it got close. It didn’t seem like there was hardly any effort going into saving the rest of the fields.

They bustled off the train platform and followed the main road up to the nearest, and only, cluster of buildings. While there were silos dotted about the rest of the hex, the bulk of the packing and shipping stations were in the cluster along with a few offices and housing.

The closer they got to the community building, the more ponies were milling about and shouting. It wasn’t much to look at, on the outside or the inside. Spitfire had been in here on occasion, it was simply a metal building designed to be a place ponies could take a quick load off or eat lunch. Along the wall opposite the doors was a large, open kitchen; before it were at least a dozen large tables each capable of sitting twenty or so ponies. Then, along various other walls was an assortment of couches, and then an area walled off near the door which made up the bathrooms.

To the unpracticed eye, all the activity could have been utter chaos, or highly refined organization. But, to Spitfire, things definitely seemed amiss the moment she rolled through the double doors of the large, square structure. Firstly, there was no section sequestered off that was filled with ponies discussing things rationally, as if making plans. Then there was the quick triage center haphazardly splayed out over a few tables, which to Spitfire reeked of disorganization. The list went on, all of which the fiery mare was able to observe within a few seconds of being inside.

Quickly grabbing one of the ponies rushing back outside, Spitfire pulled them close and shouted, “Who’s in charge?”

The pony, a unicorn, barely spared her a glance. “Nopony that I know, the firefighters are doing what they can and that’s where I’m headed. If you need medical attention they can help you over at the tables.” The unicorn pointed back at the impromptu medical center and dragged his arm out of Spitfire’s grip before galloping out the door.

Cloudbuilder gestured into the room. “Wanna go in?”

Spitfire gestured towards a number of unused tables. “Let’s go over there. Things don’t look good.”

As they moved Spitfire began calling her small entourage in. “Alright, I need a square of tables set up over where we’re headed, something that’ll keep an area clear for me to work. Then, I need you to immediately start using the remaining tables to create a pathway from the medical station to the door. Keep ponies out of it.”

The earth pony and gryphon nodded, moving ahead and working on the tables. The others split off, taking over the rest of the tables and making the pathway that she wanted. Cloudbuilder stayed behind her, pushing her chair.

“Take me over to that little medical area,” Spitfire said, maneuvering herself impatiently in her chair.

Cloudbuilder obeyed, pushing Spitfire over to the triage area. It was getting difficult, and tiresome, for him to walk like this. Hopefully Spitfire would be somewhere she was going to stay soon. He needed to at least set his front hooves down on the ground.

When they got there, Spitfire waved over one of the nurses. The harried mare came over quickly. “What’s the problem here,” she asked, stethoscope already reaching out for Spitfire. “Smoke inhalation? Did she get too close to the fire and overheat? Any burns?” She was looking at Spitfire, but her questions were directed at Cloudbuilder.

Spitfire pushed the mare away. “I’m fine, but you’ve got a problem here. There are injured ponies who are having a hard time pushing in this far and you’ve still got half your stuff in boxes. Now, I’ve brought help. So go get a couple other of your nurses and I can start getting ponies to getting you set up proper.”

The mare looked relieved at the mention of help. Within short order, she’d gathered up the other nurses, standing in front of Spitfire. “We haven’t had the time or ponypower to get things setup. Most of what we’ve got here is cases of smoke inhalation. But we could certainly use a few more hooves.”

Immediately Spitfire assigned Cloudbuilder and the few volunteers done moving tables to the nurses. It wasn’t long before the rest of her troop trickled back from clearing a path to the door; it was a good thing too as more ponies seeking attention began traversing up the now cleared path.  In short order they started to get some semblance of a proper medical station set up.

All the action: the moving tables, the mare in the wheelchair, the medical station, it was breaking through the panic in the building. Heads were turning towards them. The frenzied clamour began to die down and many ponies were beginning to cluster near the triage center. Spitfire ignored them for the moment, making sure her volunteers kept a path clear to the door and curious ponies out of the way.

It was precious few minutes later that Spitfire reluctantly turned from the nurses. As much as she wanted to keep things progressing, there was a more pressing matter to attend to: the fire. She directed Cloudbuilder, who had somehow still remained close, to wheel her back to the cleared circle of tables from earlier, calling the crowd of ponies toward her.

As she cleared the group, she caught a glimpse of the door. There was still a lot of hurried activity around it. Now, without the mass of ponies around, she realized that many of the fireponies had taken up most of the wall along the door, seemingly trading off with their brothers to give each other reprieve for a few minutes.

She put it out of her mind for the moment, instead focusing on the crowd now swarming the circle of tables around her. Spitfire eyed one of the tables surrounding her, sitting here wasn’t doing much for her image. With a determined harrumph she locked the wheels on her chair and began to lever herself out of it.
Cloudbuilder placed a hoof on her shoulder. “You shouldn’t do that,” he said quietly.

With a glower Spitfire leaned into Cloudbuilder’s ear, all too aware of their audience. “I can stand on three legs just fine, Cloudbuilder. Don’t make a scene.”

He looked at her eyes for a moment, before nodding and moving his hoof from on her shoulder, to under it. His other hoof matched the first. With care, he lifted her out of the chair, gingerly setting her down on her hooves. It was almost like how a foal would be lifted out of their stroller.

Spitfire rolled her eyes, but shook him off and ruffled her wings. She turned to the crowd and cleared her throat.

“Everypony!” she called loudly. With a pained flutter of her wings and a half jump, she hopped onto one of the tables before continuing, ignoring Cloudbuilder’s glare. “Everypony, we’ve got a serious problem outside and we need to take care of it.

“To do that I need you all to do as I say. We need to get organized and a plan has to be put together. I want you all to start by arranging yourselves by race please, I need to see what I’ve got to work with. Unicorns to the south and pegasi to the north, Earth ponies stay in the center please, and quickly!”

“Woah, hold on!” a voice called out, stopping everypony. “Who are you and what makes you think you’ve got the qualifications to start ordering ponies around? You’re a pegasus, how do we know you aren’t just trying to make this worse?”

Spitfire’s eyes snapped to the dissenter in the crowd. An earth pony, he had stepped forward and the ponies around him had backed away slightly. She noticed that he was wearing the uniform of the Ravaalon Police Department. The air soured and ponies held their breath and looked towards the mare on the table expectantly.

Cloudbuilder frowned and hopped onto the table next to his charge. This pony needed to be quiet and let Spitfire speak. His muzzle opened to ask the pony to cooperate, but Spitfire cut him off with a firm hoof to his chest and a slight shake of her head.

She then turned back to the pony with hard eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Why?” the stallion scoffed. “Tell me yours first.”

“The name,” Spitfire said, narrowing her eyes. “Is, Spitfire, and that’s captain to you, officer.”

A murmur ran through the crowd, but the fiery mare silenced it with her commanding tone. “Regardless, I don’t see you doing shit. Where's your commanding officer? It makes for a pretty poor police pony who can't be bothered to manage his own city.” She paused for a moment, waiting for a response. When she received nothing but a cold stare from the stallion she continued. “We haven’t got time for squabbling. If you aren’t here to help save these ponies, and this facility, I suggest you get out of the way.”

After a moment of silence, the stallion turned and left. As soon as the doors slammed shut behind him she turned her eyes, and voice, on the rest of the ponies. “Divide up! Those fireponies need our help!”

As the clamor in the hall erupted once again, she turned to her small group of volunteers who were still sticking close. “Alright I need half of you to head out to the fire, get me a status report fr— No, nevermind that, just bring me somepony who knows the situation out there.”

The gryphon nodded, taking flight and soaring over the heads of the ponies. Pausing only long enough to squeeze through the door, he flew off towards the fire. The two pegasi were right behind him, also flying.

The former Wonderbolt turned to her shadow. “Cloudbuilder, I need you to go find Soarin’, tell him to gather all the pegasi he can and bring water, all of it.” She eyed the ponies forming up. “I should have sent you sooner, we don’t have hardly any pegasi here and we need them.”

Cloudbuilder nodded. “I can bypass the trains, fly straight there. It’ll cut down on travel time.”

“Good. Now get moving and don’t dawdle, every second counts,” Spitfire said, urging him towards the exit.

He spread his wings, looking back at Spitfire. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. Don’t do anything stupid, Spitfire.” Hopping off the table, he flew out of the building.

Mirror took a deep breath, 'I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.' She ignored the rational part of her brain, it was being difficult again.

"Um, ma'am?" one of the other ponies asked, wondering why she'd stopped.

The pale pegasus pony grinned, "Do pardon the delay, we are continuing now, chop chop." She picked up a bucket, adjusting the one on her back with her wings. "Tally-ho and such-like". 'Ohmigosh, even I think that sounds ridiculous.'

They walked. It couldn't really be called marching, since there was no cadence to their steps, and they kept having to stop for someone to pick up a dropped bucket. Mirror was starting to question having brought so many buckets… but what if they ran out because she didn't bring enough. No, she couldn't take the risk.

In a way it was almost relaxing, running around trying to find something to do. There were still clumps of confused ponies, either caught by the blaze, or having stumbled up to see what was happening. Mirror wasn't sure whether it was heartening or depressing how easy it was to get ponies to help if it looked like you had a clue what you were doing – she didn't, but was good at faking it.

She concentrated on putting one hoof in front of another… hopefully in the right order. At first she'd been thinking about bucket brigades to supply water. But somepony had the idea of digging ditches as natural barriers for the blaze, and that meant hauling away the excess dirt. Which meant buckets.

If they had more pegasi, it might be possible to round up a few dense clouds and squeeze out some water, but in the meantime she tried to think of useful things and keep putting one hoof in front of the other. 'How fortuitous that farms tend to have things like buckets and shovels.' She thought to herself wryly.

Glancing back, the pale mare noticed several of the others were flagging as much as she felt like doing. Plastering the grin back on, she turned to face the others, careful to keep moving. "Let's all keep a stiff upper lip, eh? We're doing our part." Mirror wracked her brain for something uplifting to talk about. Then it hit her, "I say, what about a rousing song to speed the work, wouldn't that be jolly?"

Rounds of '99 oats' began to echo through the line.

Toward the back a unicorn groaned, "Majoram, I'm gonna kill that mare…"

The mare next to him rolled her eyes, "You'd have to walk all the way to the front'a the line to do that, Herb."

Herb sighed, "Can't a stallion dream?"


10:47 am

Cloudbuilder flew over the Agri Hex. With all the heat generated by the fire, he had no problems finding thermals to lift him up. With enough height, he could glide across the wide expanse of empty air between the Agri, and Admin Hexes.
Taking a moment to circle through a thermal, gaining enough height to get most of the way there, he surged his wings, powering over the remaining slice of Hex and into the open sky.

Despite what was going on, it felt good to get out and fly like this. It had been so long since he’d been able to stretch his wings, to really fly. He missed it.

Great beats of his wings sent him forwards. It would take him some time to reach the Admin Hex, but he knew he could make it. With all the chaos going on with the fire, the odds were that nopony would notice, or care about, his arrival.

He frowned, thinking about what had just happened. Spitfire had been hoping to remain anonymous, but now she’d revealed her identity to all, including an officer of Silverhoof. That same officer was most likely even now running back to his boss. All hell was about to break loose, and it had nothing to do with the fire raging through the Agri Hex.

He really hoped that mare knew what she was doing. There was no going back now. She, and by association, he, were out in the open now. No more hiding. Now it was going to be a race, one that he wasn’t entirely sure they could win.

Shaking his head, he tried to reign in his thoughts. Spitfire was placing a lot of trust in him. She’d admitted some things that he thought he’d never hear on the train ride. Yet he’d been honest as well. He needed her.

The Admin Hex was rapidly approaching. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be soaring over its wall. Banking his wings, he corrected his course slightly, aiming straight for the headquarters of the PUR.

When he landed on the sidewalk outside the main doors, he was suddenly glad he’d glided most of the way. It only now occurred to him that he’d have to fly back, and that would pretty much be entirely under his own power.

Opening the front doors, he was surprised but what he saw. Soarin’ was already down there, along with a large group of pegasi. When the doors opened, the ex-Wonderbolt’s head turned towards them. When he saw Cloudbuilder, he excused himself, coming over.

“Where’s Spitfire?”

“Where do you think? She’s over in the Agri Hex, taking control. She sent me here to get you, and as many volunteers as you can round up.”

Soarin’ sighed. “That sounds like her. She never could sit still in situations like this. Anyway, I’ve already gathered as many ponies as I can.” He paused to gesture to the large collection of ponies behind him. “We’ll be there as soon as can.”

“The trains aren’t really running. I suggest taking as many as possible and flying straight over. Those who can’t make the flight, can wait on the trains.”

“Noted.” Soarin’ turned to the group behind him. “Alright, did you all hear that?” There were various methods of confirmation. “Then let’s not waste anymore time! Let’s go!”

Cloudbuilder left the building, making sure Soarin’ was following behind. “I’ll lead you to where she is.” Taking off, he headed into the skies.

"Look, all I'm saying is, what are we supposed do with all these buckets?" The Earth Pony rubbed his muzzle.

Mirror waved the complaint away, "Look, you can't have too many buckets–"

"Yes I can, you just dumped them here." The stallion insisted.

"Look it's like a thing, supply and demand?" The pegasus chuckled, "Now you have a supply that demands use, you'll thank me later."

The earth pony resisted the urge to bury his face under his hooves. "Whatever, look, please just check in with the coordinator before you go do anything else hare-brained."

Mirror looked up, "There's somepony in charge of this chaos?"

The stallion waved a hoof toward a knot of equinity, "Some trumped up pegasister, Spits-fire or something. She yells at folk and they move, that's good enough for me."

The albino chuckled, "Heh, that almost sounds like *–"

"Sounds like what?" Despite himself Earth Mover looked back, only to find the crazy mare racing off where he'd pointed before. He scratched his muzzle and got back to work.


10:50 am

The scene below him wasn’t looking good. Spitfire had ordered a trench to be dug a ways back to stem the fiery tide. While it seemed to be a brilliant plan, it was easy to tell from above that the fire was moving far too quickly for the trench to be widened enough in time.

It seemed the winds were against the resourceful mare. He could already tell the number of fireponies had lessened considerably since he had left. Without water and the wingpower of pegasi, there wasn’t a whole lot an earth pony or unicorn could do.

Still, he was here now, maybe they could slow the flames long enough for the trench to be completed. Soarin’ was no fool, he’d participated in his fair share of firefights and rescue operations. The amount of water he’d been able to put together wasn’t going to do much, they needed that trench.

What few pegasi were down there already looked beat. There were plenty of unicorns and Earth ponies to shift dirt, but they had precious little backup buying them extra time. It wouldn’t be long before they would be forced to abandon their frenzied digging.

He needed to get the pegasi down there, get them changing those winds and squeezing those clouds. Then, he needed to go find Spitfire, she’d have a handle on what was going on. If there was anything else that he needed to know or do, she’d have it for him.

Turning to his flying entourage, he prepared to relay his current plan. “Alright, listen up!” He called out to them. “I’m going to go find Spitfire and see what the plan is. While I’m doing that, I want the faster fliers to go gather more clouds and bring them here, as fast you can. Those of you with the biggest and strongest wings, go help the pegasi that are already here with what they’re doing. Try to slow down the flames as best you can. The rest of you, help dig out the trench. Let’s get to work!”

With those words, the group of pegasi split into several directions, heading to do exactly as Soarin’ had instructed. In the meantime, Soarin’ headed off to where Spitfire was. It wasn’t very difficult to find her, considering that she was bellowing out orders to the volunteers, and he could recognize that voice anywhere.

Landing near Spitfire, Soarin’ wasted no time with introductions. “Brought some back-up for ya, Spits. Already got some to help with the digging and the rest working on slowing the fire. What else do you need done?”

“We need that water on standby, if we don’t get that trench finished in enough time then we’ll pour all the water we got into buying us a little more time.” Spitfire limped to one of the windows dotting the walls of her base and craned her neck to see the fire in the distance. “I need you out there Soarin’, keeping their spirits up and being ready to call the shots on that water. I wish I could do more, but more than one pony has been getting on my case already.”

“Something about you being a pegasus, I’m guessing? Alright, I’ll go play cheerleader.”

Spitfire snagged one of Soarin’s legs as he turned away. “Wait, I have a couple more questions: How much water and pegasi did you bring?”

“Somewhere between twenty, twenty-five pegasi of various wing strengths. Not much water, had the earth ponies and unicorns that were coming with us bring some through the train, but some of my fliers should’ve found some pretty full clouds by now.”

“Damn. That’s not enough.” Spitfire blew an angry sigh. “The trench is too long for what we got. I need all your flyers in the air, we’ve got to get these winds turned.” She banged a hoof against the window sill. “I need to be out there,” she said, turning towards the door.

Soarin’ placed a hoof on Spitfire’s shoulder. “I know how you feel. But these ponies need you down here, directing them. Just focus on that for now.”

Cloudbuilder motioned Soarin’ over to the side. “Listen, can you be her eyes and ears out there? I have no idea what she wants me to do, or where I’ll be.”

Soarin’ nodded. “I can do that.”

“I know you don’t like me, but this goes beyond us right now.”

“What do you think I’m doing? Now hurry it up, we’ve got work to do.”

Cloudbuilder nodded. “We do.” He went back over to Spitfire, staying nearby until she had a need of him.

Soarin’ turned and headed back outside. “Alright, listen up! Those of you that flew over here with me, we need to focus on changing the wind direction! The rest of you, keep at that trench!”


Since this entire post is too long for one post, silly FimFic and it's rules on post character length, this is part 1

And here is part 2

10:56 am

It was like a sea of ponies, or like a school of– Mirror smacked herself. 'Focus!' She wanted to get through the press of pony population, to find out what was going on.

A flock of pegasi – 'is that the right term? I can never remember' – headed off away from the fire. She was tempted to just tag along, but this 'Spits-Fire'… there was really only one pony that could possibly be. Unless there was a circus in town, but that would just be stupid.

There weren't any lines as such, but after about five minutes of pushing and shoving, she stumbled into a clear space. Looking back, she realized this was probably a clear channel kept open so messengers could keep the fire-breathing pony apprised of events. Rubbing her head, Mirror trod up to the middle of the gathering.

The albino pegasus looked around, confused. She saw Cloudbuilder, who seemed to have become Sptifire's right foreleg, but other than the chair he stood next to there wasn't–

“Hey, uh... The actress, right?” Cloudbuilder said, catching sight of Mirror. She’d been at that meeting. In fact, if he remembered, it had been at her house. It took him a moment to come up with her name: Mirror.

Mirror jumped at the sound. "What? Wh…" She eyed the ex-PRF pegasus, who certainly did look like he was addressing her. "Um, I guess?" She put a hoof over her face. "I mean yes, umm, Cloudbuilder, right?" She knew exactly what his name was, but the fact of the matter was he probably hadn't spent several weeks obsessing over every paltry detail he could dig up about her… she hadn't foalnapped one of his– 'Stoppit, this isn't the time or place to get petty.'

"My name is Mirror Shine." She said, finding it remarkably easy to keep her voice neutral. Funny how a major disaster can put personal problems into perspective. "I heard Spitfire was… um, here?"

Cloudbuilder looked over to the medical station, where Spitfire was currently talking to a pony who had just come inside. “She’s over there,” he said pointing. “If you stay here, she’ll be right back.”

"OK," The mare shrugged, unsure what to say. It really hadn't been more than a couple of days since the last time she'd encountered Cloudbuilder, but the stallion seemed like a different pony. "I uh, how have you been?"

Was she actually trying to make small talk? He thought for a moment, then mentally shrugged. Might as well. Standing around waiting for Spitfire to have need of him was getting boring. He wanted something to do.

“Things are... looking up,” he said. “Spitfire went to see a doctor, finally.”

Mirror's eyes widened, "She actually went to get a checkup?"

He smiled. “Not quite by choice, but she did. Had to have surgery on her leg, but it should be fine.” The smile changed direction. “Speaking of which, you may have more luck than me. When you speak, try and get her to sit back in this chair.”
He indicated the wheelchair next to him. “She shouldn’t be on her leg for this long.”

Not the same stallion at all… She realized she was staring. "I… seriously?" Mirror bit back on a laugh, "You do know there's only one pony whose advice she'd… wait, no, that's not fair." She shook her head. "Um…" 'Daring Do and the Sapphire Stone...' she took a deep breath.

"OK, putting aside everything else… let's see, she's … let's call it 'self-reliant'. And wounded, at a time she feels like she's carrying a huge burden– ok, no, I guess it's further back than that…" Sometimes these threads were hard to untangle, Mirror considered.

"Spitfire is… accustomed to being needed, to being the pony who never sweats and who others depend on. It's like… her identity, right?" She waved a hoof, like she was setting one peice of a puzzle on the table. She picked it up again, turning it sideways, "No, thats not right, it's …"

Cloudbuilder held up a hoof, trying to cut off Mirror before she thought herself into an aneurysm. “I get it. Forget I asked.”

"She resents feeling weak and takes it out on the pony mentioning it, rather than address the problem. I made the same mistake the last time I saw her. You need to find a way to put the issue out there and not be seen as the source of the facts, or the solution." Mirror blurted. Her head hurt.

“I— Um... Ok,” Cloudbuilder responded. He looked over, seeing Spitfire still talking.

'There's a whole culture of the lone pony who gets stuff done that we all swallow, this idea that asking for help somehow makes you weaker.' Mirror frowned, unable to halt the train of thought. 'It's such a huge waste of energy, but we all just accept it because 'that's how it works in stories', and we all know stories are all real, right?' She grit her teeth.
'Honestly, who could possibly want to spend their entire lives pretending to be somepony else just to– "Just shut up! For the love of Celestia, stop talking!" She didn't hit herself in the head mostly because she realized she was being stared at now.

“Are you okay?” Cloudbuilder asked, taking a step towards Mirror.

"I'm fine, it's uhhh, congestion." Mirror flipped a hoof back and forth laughing weakly.

Cloudbuilder gave her a weird look, but didn’t say anything. Based on his first encounter with her, and all subsequent encounters, really, he knew she had a few quirks. It was probably best to leave her be. And hope that Spitfire returned quickly. Maybe he should go get her...

Taking another look at Mirror, he decided to do just that. He leapt off the table, gliding over to where Spitfire was. “Hey, Spitfire,” he said. “Someone here to see you.” He placed a hoof on her shoulder, trying to lead her back over to the command tables.

Spitfire shook him off. “Just a second, Cloudbuilder. I’m a little busy if you hadn’t noticed.” The gold mare turned back to the pony sitting on a table getting his foreleg bandaged.

Mirror shrugged at Cloudbuilder, "I'm probably just in the way here. I-I should go." She turned, noticing the crowd had gotten a little fuller while she'd been babbling to Cloud. 'Stupid, why did I think anything would be different today? This was a waste of time, I should probably just grab a shovel and figure out where the hole is supposed to be.'

“Spitfire,” Cloudbuilder said again. “You need to rest. Now come over here, and talk to Mirror.” He gestured to the albino pegasus.

“What now?” Spitfire said, turning distractedly towards Cloudbuilder. She looked him up and down before turning to Mirror and narrowing her eyes. “You two need to be out helping the rest of the pegasi, we need all the wingpower we can get keeping the fire back.”

Cloudbuilder pointed to a group a pegasi milling about. “Mirror, take them and see where the line is the weakest. Blow back as much smoke as you can. Buy the trench diggers time.”

"Right," Mirror gave a sharp nod.

'… Brunhilde, Ride of the Valkyries, I think, for this...' In her mind the first strains of violin music started as she turned to address the other pegasi. "Alright, let's go deliver a breath of fresh air, what do you say?"

“Cloudbuilder, you need to be out there too,” Spitfire insisted. “We need all the wings we can get.”

Cloudbuilder wheeled Spitfire’s chair over. “Take a seat, and I’ll leave.”

Spitfire’s face soured, but she stumped over to the chair and flung herself into it. “Get your ass moving, Cloudbuilder, before I kick it myself.”

“Stay in that chair, Spitfire. Don’t overexert yourself.”

“Cloudbuilder,” Spitfire warned, giving the stallion a scathing glare. “I swear to Celestia—” She stopped and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Just move.”

Mirror paused, "Excuse me, I'll be right back, " She apologized to the other pegasi. The albino trotted back to where the two other pegasi were quarrelling.

"Spitfire? Ma'am, sir, um… Captain…" Mirror coughed, "You're making this worse."

Spitfire turned her glare on Mirror. “I don’t want to hear anything out of you on this, Mirror. Cloudbuilder has been nothing but a pain ever since the morning we got out of the PRF.”

"See, that's the problem, you don't want to hear anything." This part was going to suck. 'In for a bit, in for a bite.' "Um, you're just one pony."

“The only thing I don’t want to hear is Cloudbuilder treating me like some damn invalid who can’t think straight,” Spitfire grated. “I’m not so much a fool to go injure my leg again so he can just lay off.”

"Um, when were you going to go see a doctor, left to your own devices?" Driving nails into her hooves would have been preferable to this conversation.

“That has nothing to do with the current situation, Mirror. I’m fixed now and that is what’s important.”

"So… your operation doesn't require any … what do they call that, something like congealing? Um, bed-rest." She was on shaky ground here, medicine being pretty far from anything she liked to think about, given a choice.

“If I was required to be in a bed after leg surgery I’d be there,” Spitfire responded.

"Really? You'd let the city burn?" She grinned, accepting that there simply wasn't any easy way out of this. "That doesn't sound anything like you."

“She is required to be in bed,” Cloudbuilder said.

Spitfire paused a moment, giving both the pegasi an appraising look. “If my injury had been serious enough to require putting me under, I most certainly would have required more time to recuperate. But as it is, it didn’t.” Her voice hardened. “As it is, I am here now and discussing what I’d be forced to do or not, I would much prefer you two stop making this an issue and please keep this operation moving forward.”

"Why can't you talk to ponies from a chair?" Mirror asked, tilting her head to the side to indicate curiosity.

The fiery mare gestured flamboyantly at herself. “I am sitting, talking to you.”

Mirror looked back to the table Spitfire had just walked away from, her eyebrows raised comically high on her forehead, then looked at the chair, dropping her right brow, but leaving the left one up. And she didnt'. Say. Anything. She also tried not to grin.

The wheelbound pegasus sat silently as well, returning the stare with furrowed brows.

The white pony bowed, "You are truly a great orator, and know how to handle ponies well. But this isn't a case of being able to argue any of us to a stand-still. I've said all I'm going to, you'll have to alter the entire world to make yourself 'right' in this case."

“Noted.” Spitfire deadpanned. The fiery mare grabbed the wheels on her chair and spun around, facing their silent audience. “Enough gawking, there’s a fire to fight! You all sitting around watching us flap our jaws isn’t going to keep it from ruining tomorrow night’s dinner!” she yelled.

Mirror saluted the former … and likely future … Captain of the Guard, returning to the pegasi assigned to the smoke-watch patrol. She felt like throwing up, but mercifully hadn't had a chance to eat anything since dashing out of her home… was it really only this morning? 'Well, Brunhilde got put to sleep for a hundred years for questioning Wotan, so I guess I got off easy.'

Cloudbuilder looked at Spitfire. “Take it easy for the moment. I’ll be back with regular reports.” He took off out the door. First he needed to figure out where help was needed the most.


11:01 am

Spitfire gritted her teeth as Cloudbuilder left. That stallion was becoming infuriatingly overprotective and it felt like somepony using a cheese grater on her nerves over and over. What was his big deal anyway? She wasn’t so bad as to ruin what little healing she’d received. She had committed to going to the doctor, there was no point in making that a waste. He didn’t have to act like she was a foal and hovering over her so much.

As she rolled back towards the triage tables she tried not to grit her teeth. She could feel the eyes of the spectators following and judging her after what just transpired. It would have been best if she had ended that argument before it had even started, but Mirror had stepped in and wouldn’t let it go. Now she had lost quite a bit of face, and with it, trust and compliance of the ponies around her: Not what they needed right now.

She didn’t notice she had been simply sitting, in front of one of the tables, stewing over the situation until a mare came and sat next to her.

“Hey, how are you doing?” the mare asked.

Spitfire blinked and looked up quickly. The mare was a light pink, her mane a violet with a cutie mark looking like some kind of bandage.

“Yea,” Spitfire responded. “I’m fine. What’s up?”

“Your friends have a point, you know,” the mare blurted out. “You’ve been up, working and helping, without even a thought to yourself.

“D-don’t get me wrong,” she continued hurriedly, speaking over Spitfire. “You’ve gotten things rolling really well. But, they just care, is all.”

Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Riiight, next time I’ll just let that shit brown stallion wrap me in a diaper and cart me off to bed.”

The mare winced and frowned at Spitfire’s colorful language, but she pressed on. “You know they’re just afraid that you’re going to push yourself too hard. I know I don’t know you that well, but ever since you rolled in that door you’ve been working nonstop.”

"Who's going to do anything if I'm not here? I can't afford to stop." Spitfire groaned.

“I’m not saying you should,” the mare responded quickly. “But they just need to know that you are on their side as well.”

"You know what I need? To know that somepony is on my side." Suddenly the orange mare felt very tired. The chair was pretty convenient for the moment.

“Well, I’m on your side. There’s still too much to be done for us to quit now. But later they just need to know, from you, that you aren’t pushing them away. You were very quick to sit in that chair, I know you want to keep things running smoothly. But, you blocked your friends really hard just now, in front of everypony.”

The pegasus rubbed her temples, remembering the times she'd sat up with Fleetfoot through a bad breakup, her first few years managing Ravaalon's Police Force, when she'd had to show them what civil service meant. "Look, I appreciate the thought, and yeah, when this is all over, I'm due for several long talks with ponies. But right now, I can't appear weak. If they could just understand that…" Despite the annoyance of it, Spitfire felt a little lighter.

The mare smiled. “I understand, and they will too. But, we’ve got work to do now. I’m sure you’ll want to talk with the ponies that just walked in. Let’s go.”

Standing up quickly, the mare grabbed Spitfire’s chair and spun her around and pushed her back towards the action.


11:12 am

Windy flew low to the ground. If it weren’t faster, she’d be running, instead of flying. But this low to the ground was the only way to stay below the smoke. She’d seen several groups of pegasi already trying to change the direction of the wind. They were having luck in some areas. Others? Not so much.

Beating her wings, she felt the wet cloth fluttering against her neck. It was annoying, the cloth, but it also filtered out a lot of the smoke, letting her breathe.

There,  ahead of her, she saw what she was aiming for. The current end of the trench. The whole thing was twenty feet wide, and stretched across several fields by now. They still had several miles to go before it was done, and not a lot of time before the fire got there.

She landed, taking a few trotting steps before coming to a halt. There were teams of both earth ponies and unicorns working on the trench. The unicorns were using their magic to do the heavy lifting, their telekinesis far more effective than hooves and shovels at moving large volumes of dirt while the earth ponies put their backs into breaking the dirt out of the ground. The earth ponies were working the sides, making sure the trench wasn’t about to collapse on itself.

With a foreleg, Windy lifted up her cloth. “Who’s Spellbound?” she yelled. There was so much activity, it was hard to hear anything.

One of the unicorns in the trench perked up. “I am,” he said. Using a ladder that was placed on the side, he climbed out of the trench. “Who’s asking?”

“Windy,” she introduced herself. “Spitfire wants to know your progress. How long until you’re done?”

Spellbound looked behind him at the trench. “Progress is steady. We’ve got a ways to go, but we’re all strong for now.” He went quiet for a moment. “Maybe an hour, hour and a half until we’re done.”

Windy bit her lip. They had maybe an hour, at the most, until the fire was at the trenchline. Spitfire was not going to be happy about this. “Anything you can do to speed things up, do it. We don’t have an hour.”

“How much time do we have?” Spellbound asked with a frown, turning to glance worriedly at the rapidly approaching flames.

“The pegasi are doing their best, but I’d say an hour at the most.”

Spellbound looked over her shoulder, not saying anything. Narrowing her eyes, she turned around, seeing another pegasus landing not far away. She recognized him as Soarin’.

Soarin’ approached the edge of the trench, looking into it. She could see his muzzle moving, but couldn’t hear the words.
“Spellbound?” Windy said. “An hour at most. You’ve gotta work faster.”

The unicorn shook his head. “Right. We can work faster, though you should get some more unicorns down here. We’ll exhaust ourselves before we make it to the end.”

“I’ll let Spitfire know right away.”

“Let Spitfire know what?” Soarin’ asked, having hopped over the trench when he noticed the two of them talking.
Windy turned to face him. “That we need more unicorns down here, sir.”

“I’ll pass on the message for you. I need you to get more pegasi back in the air, we need to focus on changing the direction of the wind as best we can, try and buy the diggers more time.”

“Y-yes, sir!” she said, giving a little salute.

Soarin’ nodded decisively. “Hop to it then. Keep up the good work, just a little more and we can beat this thing. And don’t call me sir, I’m not that old.”

“Yes, si- Soarin’.” Windy put her cloth back in place over her muzzle. With a nod, she took off into the air again. Soarin’ had given her a job, and she was going to do it.

Soarin’ turned to Spellbound. “While we push back the fire, is there anything you and the others can do to dig faster?”

“As I just told Windy, I’m sure we can pump a bit more effort out.” Spellbound said with a determined shake of his head. “But we’re going to need ponies to keep trading off. With the smoke cleared we can get a lot more waiting right close to do that now. We’re going to need more ponies anyhow, looks like the pegasi here on the ground are moving off. Somepony needs to get back to the recreation building and get ponies moving.”

“I’ve got some ponies coming in from another hex, I’ll be sure to send them along as soon as they get here. They’re also bringing a few more digging tools with them.”

“That sounds good. With luck we can get this thing completed in time.”

Soarin’ sighed, nodding. “We’ll just have to hope that luck is on our side today... alright, I’m going to go kick some pony butts into high gear. You’re doing a good job, keep it up.”

“Thank you.”

Soarin’ nodded to Spellbound, before turning around and taking off towards the recreation building.

Spellbound watched him leave. It was a mere moment before he lost sight of the pegasus in the smoke. Turning around, he climbed back into the trench. “Alright, listen up. Everypony here, we’re gonna go double time.” A chorus of groans met his announcement.

“Hey! What are we? The pride of the earth, or wimpy mice? What would it look like if we simply abandoned our hard work to a little fire?” Spellbound picked up a clod of dirt in his magic. “Come on ponies! Let’s show that fire it can’t beat the pony spirit!”

Putting actions to words, he grabbed a bit of dirt with his magic. Setting it down, he repeated the process. The ponies beside him followed his lead. This trench was going to get done.


11:19 am

Greenhoof was not a fan of his current situation. It was one thing to be stuck in a field all day, tending to crops on behalf of a family too lazy to do it themselves. It was another thing entirely to be in a different field, or more accurately, ten feet below ground level in the field, and actively working to ruin things.

Sure, he was building a trench which would save far more than it was destroying, but it was still a travesty. In the last hour, the smoke had grown thicker and thicker. If he wasn’t in the trench, there’d be no way he’d be breathing, even at street level.

As it was, only the damp cloth over his muzzle allowed him to breathe. The fire was oppressively close. Sweat ran down his body in great streams, the heat from the thing so intense. He had no idea how far they were from the end, but they were almost out of time.

Already ponies had been forced to evacuate the trench. Some were dropped due to smoke inhalation, others from heat exhaustion, or even just plain exhaustion. New ponies were taking their place, but progress had slowed.

Greenhoof sat down, trying to catch his breath. Years of tending a farm had given him strength and stamina beyond most ponies, but even he had his limits. His head tilted up, looking at the sky. Most of it was covered in black smoke, but patches of blue shone through.

As he breathed, he caught sight of something flitting through the sky. Before he could tell what it was, it vanished in the smoke. Most likely it was a pegasus. If so, whoever it was, was brave to try and fly through that.

Taking another deep breath, he exhaled. There it was again, the movement. A portion of the smoke blew backwards, clearing the sky. Greenhoof could see not just one, but half a dozen pegasi in the air. The lead one was a rather blinding white in color. She was leading the other five and together, they were blowing back the smoke.

He couldn’t feel it, stuck in the trench, but he knew they had to be turning the direction of the wind. It wouldn’t be much, but it would buy them some time. All they needed to do was finish the trench, then make sure the fire stayed on its side of the way.

Through the newly cleared skies, he could see more teams of pegasi fighting the wind, changing it. What few clouds had been gathered were in position over the fire side of the trench. When the fire got there, they’d unload everything, stall it.
Maybe, just maybe, they’d beat this thing. Taking one final deep breath, this one cleaner than the last, he stood up. It was time to get back to work.


11:25 am

Chrysanthemum was not a fan of her situation. Even though the smoke had been cleared and there was a cooler breeze blowing back the heat of the fire, those very flames were getting uncomfortably close.

Still, she retained her position above the trench, offloading dirt the earth ponies dug up with her magic. It was tough work, much harder than what she was used to being a gardener. While she didn’t mind the dirt, the sweat pouring off her body was anything but pleasant. Yet, she continued to toil away, she had only been out here for a few minutes anyway. It wouldn’t do to back out so soon, not with all these other ponies working until the collapsed.

Shouts broke out further down the trench. Turning her attention, she saw that a gap in the pegasi wall had allowed some of the fire to burst forward thirty or so meters towards the working ponies. There was a sudden rush of air above her as the fliers moved to compensate, and almost immediately she felt the hot air of the fire increase.

Doing her best to move dirt and still watch the pegasi try to stem the creep of the fire, she noticed with increasing worry that the flames were now moving even faster towards her.

She took a step back as the ponies below began digging out another chunk of dirt. Glancing behind her, she saw this section of the trench still needed a few meters to be at optimal width. Turning back to the approaching flames she considered her options.

If they finished in time, the fire would practically be burning their tails, not to mention they would already be thoroughly roasted by that point. Staying meant she would soon have the nickname of ‘fried chicken’. But that could be avoided if she let somepony else take over. Chrysanthemum took another step backwards as she considered her retreat, fumbling her clod of dirt.

Suddenly another rush of wind from behind her pushed her mane across her face. When she looked up again a white pegasus, his coat streaked with smoke, barrelled forward with three other flyers and began bolstering their defense. She watched in awe at their reckless abandon, doing their best to buy the ponies on the ground more time.

The white pegasus turned to the ponies below and bellowed triumphantly. “Alright ponies! We’ve got you covered for a few more minutes, make it count! We’ve got wounded in the complex depending on us!”

Wounded, of course! Many of the ponies trying to keep the fire from spreading at the start had underestimated the danger and gotten burned. Chrysanthemum scrunched up her face with a determined frown. If those ponies were willing to get hurt to save the fields, the least she could do was give her best shot at protecting them.

Watching the pegasi dare the elements to keep her safe, she felt a rush of exhilaration as she decided to stay and work until this trench was done, or the last pony was gone. Lifting a large section of dirt she hurled it against the wall of dirt they were building, she still had a little strength left and she was going to use it.


Written with the awesome Sasha Nein, The not so awesome Muse Scroll, and the indiscernible notMurphy

Timestamp: July 29th, The Long Morning
10:36 am

---

The air felt hot and stale, stagnant as though there hadn't been a breeze in weeks. The sky was a blue so bright that it looked washed out. A hemisphere of stone, metal, and wood sat sullenly in the sky, remaining stock still despite the obvious lack of support. The crew of the airship shivered when they looked at it, hurrying past the deck.

Captain Rum Runner slapped the telescope back into its holster. "Just like I told yah, young maser, ain't no sign of activity at th' docks, an' the docking frequencies are all blaring 'do no approach' signals."

A blue earth pony, with a brown mane and red highlights stood across the captain. The blue stallion held a look of annoyance. “I said to you before, this delivery has the permission of a member of the high council. I even have the right files and passes. You only need to take us there and I guarantee you will be well paid.” This captains body odor certainly reflected his name, though it was a mystery how the captain even found the rum way up here.

"Cap'n!" One of the deck crew rushed in, panting, "Crow says there's something going on in the city!"

Golden bronze light enveloped the spyglass as it flew to the captain's eye, panning over the skyline. "Fire, the bleeding city's on fire!"

The blue earth pony stared in shock. “Fire? Lemme see that.” The pony pried the spy glass from the captain and looked through. This wasn’t a lie, a section of the city, a green area, was burning. A third of that area was clearly on fire, leaving behind black dead ash. This couldn’t be allowed to continue, he had to help. “Head over there, we need to help them”.

"Are you insane? That there is a burning city, with precious little water to speak of, and bands of mad pegasi setting everything on fire. I'm turning this lug around and headin' back. You can keep yer fee, I can't spend none of it dead."

“NO! You can’t just let them burn, how much water does the ship have? If this ship can gather water from clouds to help stop the fire, then do it.”

"Water!?" The captain chucked. "Did ye forget what my name is? Those barrels belowdecks are full of 'proof' that we're carrying very little 'water'."

Well that answered the question, regarding the source of the smell. “Fine, how much does all that rum cost?”

"Two hunnert bits a barrel, wh…" The airstallion's eyes widened. "Ye can't be serious?"

The blue earth pony smiled charmingly and pulled out a bag and gave them to the unicorn. “Platinum bits, 20 of them. You dump the rum and help fight the flames. You will not only have the greatest pay day ever, the city will owe a debt to you and you will earn a respectable reputation. Both with my family and with the court of Princess Twilight Sparkle.” The stallion then proceeded to snatch the heavy bag back. “Refuse to help and I’ll make sure to notify all the businesses who the most cowardly captain is.”

Rum Runner shivered and ground his teeth before thrusting a forehoof out. "Oh aye, you'll get yer delivery." The captain frowned, turning a baleful eye on the crewpony who remained in the doorway, mouth agape. "I don't pay ye to stand there catching flies, lad!" He snapped, "Go tell the rest of the crew… we're goin' in, and tell em we're going to need all them barrels empty 'fore we make contact."

The pony saluted and turned about, only for the older pony to shout again, "An I expect all of th' rum ta go over the side. We'll need a sober crew 'fore this day's done with us!"

The earth pony smiled, and dropped the money bag into the waiting hoof of the unicorn. “I say it’s a pleasure making business with you captain, remember to have a little fun.” The stallion turned around, looking to the burning city.

“It’s no wonder you needed me...brother”

---

July 29, 10:51 am, Industrial Hex

---

"Kid, I don't like you, but I still feel bad just taking your money like this." The stallion snickered, pushing a piece of paper across the desk.

The blue unicorn nodded as crackling copper-colored energy levitated the note before his eyes. '10 bushels Parsnips. Carrots, 500lbs.' The unicorn nodded. "This is what I wanted. Your money's right there." He nodded at the large bag on the seat next to the older pony.

"We're square now, you hear me?" The pony counted the bits inside the bag.

"Sure, sure," The unicorn nodded, staring lazily out the window.

"I mean, if you want to call in all your markers to open up a grocery store, that's your lookout. But I'm not having nothing more to do with your stupid schemes…" The pony paused, "Um, what are you going to do with all this junk, Monty?"

Monty Carlo chuckled, "Maybe I'll open a grocery store." He eyed the standing pony, "Yeah, you don't owe me nothing anymore, we're done." His gaze turned away again.

Speeding Truck frowned, "Sure, sure… only," he stepped closer to the desk, trying to get a good look out the window. "What the hay are you looking at?" Speedy noticed there seemed to be a dark cloud flying low over the Ag Hex. His eyes widened as he realized the cloud wasn't holding rain, but smoke.

"I'm looking at the winning hand, Truck. Call it my 'open for business' sign, written in smoke."

---

11:48 am, Ag Hex

---

Cloudbuilder flew through the sky. So far, the trench digging was going well. Even if a rather loud Earth Pony had informed him that it was called a ‘firebreak’ and not a trench. It was still a trench.

At this point, he was on his way to the northern end of the trench. The pegasi there had taken a hit to their numbers, too many dropping from smoke inhalation. Behind him flew four more pegasi to replace the fallen ones while he needed to get a status update from the team leader there.

A column of smoke barred their path. Banking left, he flew around the smoke, the particulates being disrupted at their passing. As he cleared the smoke, something caught his eye.

At first, he thought he was seeing things. A few quick blinks and he came to the conclusion that there was indeed an airship approaching. With a hoof, he signaled for the others to stop.

“You four keep going, link up with Wind Whisper at the trench site. She’ll put you to work. I’m gonna go see what’s going on with this airship.” The four nodded and took off again, breaking through a cloud of smoke and disappearing into the blackness.

“This guy’s gonna get himself killed,” Cloudbuilder said. With a surge of his wings, he set off towards the airship.
               

---

The airship was flying into the plumes of smoke, leaving a filthy black mark under the ship and on some of the crew members. A certain blue earth pony was arguing with the ships stubborn captain, the latter of which cared more for his prized ship.

“We had an agreement, you help cool the fire, you earn your money and honor. We never agreed to simply drop off the cargo and leave. Think of all the lives you will destroy.”

"Lad, when I agreed to yer hair-brained idea, I had no idea how big this here blaze was. Do ye see them ponies down there? They're digging a trench, 'cause they know there's no stopping the blaze. Best we can do for 'em is to slow down the leadin' edge a bit." Rum Runner shook his head, "Tis a tragedy, but 'taint me condemning nopony to a crispy grave."

The earth pony felt he had finally had it with the pathetic excuse for an airship stallion. One more argument, and he'd throw the unicorn overboard. “The fire needs to be stopped, we can let it burn itself out. But you can’t leave immediately, not when there is so much at stake. Listen or I’ll make sure you’ll be known as the cowardly captain of the farm flames. Would you really like me to ruin your reputation?”

The air captain laughed bitterly, "You overestimate my concern for your pretty words, boy. I agreed to take a load of water and dump it where it'd do some good and drop yer flank off on this blighted burg. So that's what I'm going to do, but when ye've realized the mistake yer making coming to this place, you'll have to find other passage off." He screwed his hat on more tightly and turned to bark at his crew.

"Alright, ye ballast-rats! The faster we dump this cargo, the faster we can refill those barrels – move them hooves!" Rum called out. He was enjoying himself, in spite of his reservations about flying directly towards an enormous fire.

"Captain," Crows Nest, the lookout, called down, "Horsefeathers off the starboard bow!"

The earth pony frowned, “horsefeathers?”

"Short-hoof for a pegasus flyer. They's got feathers, but they's horses, see?" a nearby crewmember replied.

The blue stallion shrugged, “well if you say so.”

The airpony pulled out his spyglass once again, pausing to polish the lens before peering through. It was certainly a pegasus. "Well I'll be keel-hauled, is everypony I meet today bound to be blue-hided?" He sighed as the earth pony grabbed the glass from him, again.

The blue stallion looked through the spyglass, finally seeing an unfamiliar face. He frowned at the sight, “who’s he?”

"Never seen 'im before. But he could easily be a corsair. I say we juke him an' keep on going." Captain Runner realized he'd begun to lower his voice.

The pony with the spyglass shoved it into the captain's mouth, bruising the airstallions pride and teeth. “You really are an idiot! We are in a city that is on fire, ponies wanting water and a chance to survive. WHO THE HELL WOULD THINK OF ROBBING AT A TIME LIKE THIS!” The stallion stopped his shouting and breathed heavily. 'I had to go with a moron of a captain.'

The unicorn removed the spyglass from his jaw and sighed expansively. "Very well, 'tis your coin plyin' this course." He turned to address the crew, "Prepare to have company, colts. Engines to slow!"

“What the hell are you doing?” Cloudbuilder shouted as he approached the ship. “Don’t you see the fire? Turn around and head back to the docks!” He alighted on the deck of the ship.

The Captain grinned, "I like this one already." He muttered to the earth stallion. "He's yer guest, you explain what in the eclipse is going on."

The stallion next to the captain rolled his eyes in annoyance. “My name is Breeze, this idiot is Rum Moron.”

"That be Captain Moron to ye." The unicorn scowled at his passenger.

Breeze shrugged him off. “We’ve brought about 60 barrels full of water, we want to help stop this tragedy. Instruct us where the water is needed.”

“Barrels of what?” Cloudbuilder asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “For starters, stay away from the fire. The last thing we need is one of our pegasi teams running into you in the smoke.”

"It used 'ta be rum, till somepony got a hair up his nethers." [s]Moron[/s] Runner grumbled.

Breeze smiled, this pegasus was certainly proving helpful. “Well Captain Rum Moron, you heard the gentleman. What is your name sir pegasus?”

“Cloudbuilder. If you’ve got water, you willing to let us use it? We’ve got next to none.”

Breeze replied promptly. ”Grab what you need, actually no, grab more, you’re going to need it.”

“We’ll take it all,” Cloudbuilder walked over to the rail, pointing with a hoof. “We’re digging this firebreak in sections. Can you drop ten barrels at each section? We’ve got ponies on the ground who can distribute it further and that way your ship won’t burn.”

Breeze turned to the grumpy unicorn beside him. “Well we have a job to do, Captain, up for being a hero?” The earth pony never waited for a response, he headed for the nearest barrel.

"Sure an' we do. I don't reneg on agreements I've freely entered into." The unicorn nodded, scowling. "I said I'd put the stuff where it would be of use, and I'll see it done." He paused, " And then I want you off my ship."

“Captain,” Cloudbuilder said. “If you could move your airship over to the side, we may have need of you again before this is over.”

The unicorn pursed his lips, "I 'spose it's not much more trouble. We're already off schedule for the day."

Breeze yelled from the barrel, “thats the spirit, captain!”

"Son, ye're the reason there is a distinct lack of spirits on this vessel."

Breeze lifted the heavy barrel on his back before replying. “Don’t let it get ya down, Cap, otherwise it’ll be the end of us.” He headed into the ships cabin, whistling happily, irritating the unicorn in the process.

Cloudbuilder pointed out where the barrels were to go to the captain. As the unicorn nodded his understanding, the pegasus spread his wings, hovering just over the deck. “I need to check back in with Spits. You got it from here?”

Rum nodded at the pegasus, then joined his crew in hauling the barrels into position, chuckling when they stared. "Keep moving while yer gawping. I have the feeling this long morning is only the start of a day that will take it's own sweet time coming to an end."

Cloudbuilder launched himself over the side of the ship, wings folded and plummeted. Just before he hit the rooftop of a shed, he snapped his wings open and set off back towards the command center. Spitfire would want to know about a useable airship.

---

12:03 pm, Industrial Hex

---

Ponies were coming and going from the small office. Ledgers were filled up and filed neatly into a growing collection of file cabinets. The stack of registry papers to be filed with the commerce department grew and grew.

There was one folder that remained distinctly un-full, however. In the course of things, it was a very small portion of a very large operation. But in a tight-knit organization like the Casino Family, one had to command the absolute loyalty of one's subordinates. Even if one had had a screw-off foisted on them, said screw-off still reflected badly on you.

Which was why Monty had found it necessary to order one of his agents dragged into the small office, despite the interruption of a much larger operation to do so.

The file folder lay open on the desk, no contents to cover its nakedness. The hulking stallion managed to give the impression that he was shrunken down, despite the obvious evidence that he still took up a remarkable amount of room. The unicorn, even seated, was clearly in control of the space.

"So," Monty's eyes slid toward the folder and back to his subordinate, "You wanna tell me what's going on here, Warrant?"

"S-sir?" stammered the earth pony.

"I've got this empty folder here, Warrant. Can you see this folder, see that there is nothing inside of it?"

"Um, it's empty alright, Mr. Carlo, sir."

"Casino." Monty replied, voice even, face relaxed.

Warrant flinched, "I'm sorry?"

"My. Name. Is Montague Carlos de la Casino. My friends get to call me 'Monty Carlo'. To you, I am Mr. Casino." This wasn't strictly true, only the main branch had the right to that name, but it kept the muscle-bound stallion off-balance.

"I-uh…" the earth pony felt sweat running down his neck.

The unicorn made a brushing gesture, "Forget it. That's nothing." His hoof, casually outstretched, slammed onto the desktop, causing the folder to leap into the air, where Monty caught it with his magic. "Now this, this is something… even though it is a 'nothing' that makes it something. If there were something, this would be nothing."

Warrant's vision swam, "Sir?"

Montague sighed, resting a hoof against his temple. "Warrant, what have you been doing lately – instead of your job?"

"I… ah, that is…"

The unicorn's left eyebrow twitched.

"I've been trying to track down this mook who's working for the Pegasinisters." Blurted the mook.

"The who?" Monty's eyebrows raised.

"Uhhh, the PRF." Warrant corrected himself. "Sir."

"And who is this mysterious mare?"

"Stallion."

"Stallion." Monty's voice had become dangerously calm again.

"Crescent Sunrise."

"You sure that's not a bird? It's a real pretty name, for a pegasister."

"He's a unicorn. Sir."

"Oh? Ain't the PRF trying to off the unicorns too?"

"Sir, with all due respect, if I knew what the PFR… um, the PRF was doing, would we be having this conversation?"

Monty chuckled. "Ok, you've got thirty seconds to tell me why this is a, not complete nonsense, and b, why I should care, regardless." His face slipped into a neutral mask. "With all due respect."

---

Made in collaboration with notMurphy and DarkPhoenix, because it's what all the cool kids are doing.

Timestamp:
10:25 am July 29, A bar in the Industrial Hex

The bar was a seedy place. Somewhere a pony could go to disappear into the shadows and nurse a mug of something strong and foul-tasting. Everypony in there knew everypony else, but nopony bothered anypony.

There was one particular booth, tucked away in the darkest corner. Despite the large crowd, the booth was empty, the patrons of the bar knowing better than to sit there. Occasional glances were given to the booth, wondering if it was going to be filled today.

The door to the bar opened, letting in the light from outside. Ponies in the path of the illumination shied away from it. With sure steps, a pony walked inside. She was wearing a large brimmed hat, her mane tucked underneath it, as well as a modest skirt covering her cutie mark.

Behind her was a second mare, this one wearing nothing. Her dark orange coat and blue mane complemented each other well. She carried herself with confidence, as if she knew precisely where she was and what she was doing.

As the two mares crossed the room, more than one set of eyes was drawn to them. The one in the skirt, a Pegasus, gave off an aura of power, like she wasn’t a pony to be messed with. In contrast to that, her partner, an Unicorn, was mysterious, which only served to enhance her beauty.

The two mares reached the booth, sliding into opposite sides of it. Within moments, the bartender had placed two mugs on the table, leaving without saying a word.

The Pegasus ignored the mug for the moment. “So Mirage, what do you have for me?”

The Unicorn, Mirage, took a sip of her drink. “It took me awhile, but I got what you wanted, Sunny.” Her horn lit up, bathing the table in a green glow. The contrast highlighted the scar running down her left cheek, a single flaw on her face.

From within her mane floated out a single, folded, piece of paper. She set it on the table, sliding it over to Sunny. “Patrol routes, shift change times, even the names of the officers on each route.”

Sunny smiled, tucking the piece of paper away under her hat. “Very good. Was it a lot of trouble getting this?”

Swallowing from her mug, Mirage replied. “He was a little more resistant to my charms, but eventually he took me back to his place. The schedule was just sitting there on his desk. While he was waiting on me, I made a quick copy.”

Her eyes went from wide open to half-lidded, a sultry smile appearing on her muzzle. “Darling,” she said, her voice becoming smooth, with just a hint of huskiness to it. “I need to freshen up a bit.” Her hoof traced the air, as if running down the side of a stallion’s face. “Why don’t you go wait for me in the bedroom.” She leaned forward. “I’ll be right there.” She punctuated the sentence with a brief kiss.

“And he fell for that?” Sunny asked.

“Hook, line, and sinker.” Mirage dropped the demeanor as she rolled her eyes. “I got the feeling he’s read one too many trashy cop novels with dames in them.”

“I really hope you didn’t have to sleep with him.”

Mirage shuddered. “You know that I’d be willing to do anything for the cause. Except that. Officer Pencil Neck may be a fine policepony, but he has no idea how to treat a mare. Pretty sure he’s never been laid. No, I just had to kiss him a bit before promising to see him again.”

Sunny reached across the table, setting a hoof on Mirage’s own. “You have my sympathies.”

“At least it was quick.” Both mares shared a laugh as they toasted to the completion of Mirage’s task. Both mugs, now empty, clanged onto the table.

“Oh, before I forget,” Mirage said. “I left a little present in one of the dead drops.”

“Oh? What did you steal this time?”

Mirage looked offended. “Me? Steal? I would never.”

Sunny’s face never lost its smile. “Really? So that wasn’t you trying to steal my coin purse back when we first met?”

“I wasn’t stealing. I was liberating it for a good cause. Me.”

“So what did you ‘liberate’ this time?”

Mirage shrugged. “Nothing of value, the guy’s broke and living on a cop’s wage. But he did have a few loose bits laying around, as well as a spare uniform in the laundry. I’d advise washing it, but it could come in handy, having an official police uniform as a disguise.”

“Have I ever said that I love the way you think?” Sunny asked.

“No, but you can certainly do so.”

“I love the way you think.”

The bartender brought over two more mugs, taking away the empty ones. Both mares sipped casually on their drinks. Nothing needed to be said between them.

Finally, it was Sunny who broke the silence at the table. “You ready for another assignment?”

“Does it involve Pencil Neck?”

Sunny shook her head. “No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t involve the police at all.”

Mirage set her mug down on the table. “Then I’m ready.”

The smile on Sunny’s face briefly turned into a frown. “I know that you’re dedicated to the cause, but if you want to rest for a couple of days, go back to busking in the streets and get some bits, then that’s fine.”

“You’ve been out there, Sunny. With the atmosphere in the city these days, nopony would give bits to a street illusionist. And most ponies are hurrying everywhere, not stopping, if they’re even going out at all. So I wouldn’t be able to steal any coin purses or wallets, either.” She waved a hoof in the air. “I’d never make anything. No, at least this way I can be of some use to you, Sunny.”

Sunny nodded. “Okay. Though I’ll warn you, this one will be more of a long term assignment.” Her face broke into a lecherous grin. “Not the one night stands you’re used to.”

“Hey! I can get a lot of valuable information out of a stallion during pillow talk.” She shrugged. “Besides, some of them are actually quite fun.”

“And others of them are not.”

“Let’s just say that some ponies put a whole new meaning on the phrase, ‘over before it begins.’”

“Well, hopefully you’ll like this assignment better.” Sunny plucked a piece of paper out of the waistband of her skirt. Mirage still didn’t know why Sunny always wore something. It was rare to see that mare without a skirt covering her cutie mark.

“As you are aware, the Ravaalon Police Department recently lost all of its pegasi, meaning we had to pull out all of our informants.”

Mirage nodded. “Yeah, that’s why you sent me to Pencil Neck.”

“It is. However, many of the now ex-officers have joined together to form a safe haven for ponies. They bought a building near what was Town Hall and are using it as a shelter of sorts, housing and feeding ponies who have nowhere else to go. They’re calling themselves the Pegasus Underground Railroad.”

Mirage snorted into her drink, almost spewing it on Sunny. “The Pegasus Underground Railroad?” she asked incredulously. “PUR? They actually called it PUR, like the sound a cat makes when you pet it?” She laughed again. “What a stupid name. Whoever came up with that should get fired.”

“Actually, that’s going to be your assignment. The leader of that group is Soarin’, the former Wonderbolt.”

“And you want me to seduce him?”

“No.” Sunny thought for a moment. “Well, if you have to in order to get what we need, then yes. But you have a slightly different task.”

She paused to take a long drink from her mug. “You know that Spitfire is missing after she escaped along with... Cloudbuilder.” Sunny’s face gained a look of distaste as she said that name.

“Hey,” Mirage said. “It’s not your fault. You knew he was a spineless coward, but for him to actually betray us. Betray you?” Her face turned angry. How could anypony betray Sunny like that? Sunny was the best. She’d rescued her from a life of petty thievery, given her a sense of purpose and a family to belong to. Mirage could never fathom betraying her family, or Sunny. “Nopony expected that.”

“Be that as it may,” Sunny continued. “Spitfire is missing. We know she made it out of the tunnels, but we can’t find her. She just vanished.”

Unfolding the piece of paper she got from her skirt, Sunny set it on the table. Mirage could tell that it was a map of the Administration Hex, with several buildings circled.

“Soarin’ and Spitfire were Wonderbolts together and they’re still friends. It’s guaranteed that she will reach out to him at some point.” Sunny placed a hoof on the map, indicating one of the circled buildings. “This is where the PUR is located.

“Your assignment is to get close to Soarin’. Find out what he knows, where Spitfire is hiding. Find out what she’s planning, because she is planning something. Find out whatever you can.”

She pointed out the other circled buildings. “These are all places that Soarin’ frequents. I leave it up to you how to best approach him. If you need anything, you let me know. Once you’re inside, then contact between us will be infrequent. Leave a note in a dead drop if you need to get ahold of me.”

Mirage nodded, taking another sip. “I can do that.” She set the mug down. “What about Cloudbuilder?”

“Well, we know that he left the tunnels with her. And since he’s not in jail and we can’t find him, then he has to be with Spitfire. Either that, or she saved us a lot of trouble and killed him, tossing the body over the side.”

“Should I give him a message from you?” Mirage asked. She thought about the small knife that she always kept tucked into her mane. She’d never had to attack anypony before. Sure she’d used it in self defense a few times, but never aggressively. But Cloudbuilder had betrayed Sunny, so there was always a first time for everything.

Sunny shook her head. “No. Leave him alone.”

“But he—”

“No!” Sunny cut her off. “Cloudbuilder is not your concern. I will deal with him when the time is right.”

Mirage smiled. So Sunny just wanted to exact her revenge herself. She could respect that. “Okay.” She folded up the map, giving it back to Sunny.

“So my objectives are to get close to Soarin’, find out what he knows regarding Spitfire and her plans. Am I allowed to meet Spitfire if given a chance? Or should I avoid a face to face?”

“You can meet her. But be warned, she is not to be underestimated. She is smart, so you cannot drop your guard or your cover, even for an instant.

Giving a nod, Mirage finished her mug, Sunny doing the same. Together, they stood up. Mirage dropped a few bits onto the table. “Well, I do believe Officer Pencil Neck has bought these rounds.”

Sharing a laugh, they headed back through the bar, eyes once more following them. A few risked a look at their flanks, which both mares ignored. Mirage even gave one enterprising stallion a little wiggle, flicking her tail to the side ever so briefly.

“Don’t encourage them, Mirri,” Sunny whispered, trying to hide a smile.

“Oh but it’s fun. Give them a little taste of what they could never have,” Mirage whispered back.

The two mares exited the bar, giggling. Outside, they stood for a moment. “Well,” Sunny said. “Good luck on your...” Her voice trailed off.

“What? What is it?” Mirage asked. She could see Sunny staring not at her, but over her shoulder and behind her. Turning around, she saw what had stopped Sunny.

Huge amounts of smoke were pouring into the sky. Mirage wasn’t entirely certain, but it looked like it was coming from the Agri Hex. Whatever was on fire there, was really on fire.

They watched the smoke for a moment before Sunny whispered. “So it’s come to this...” Mirage had to strain to hear the mare.

“What’s going on, Sunny? You know something about this?” Mirage asked.

Sunny shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Focus on your task.”

A gentle hoof on Mirage’s shoulder turned her back around to face Sunny. “Listen,” Sunny began. “Be careful. This is easily the most dangerous assignment you’ve ever been given. Once you’re in, it’ll be hard to get out. And if you get caught, then there’s a chance that not even I will be able to rescue you.”

Sunny reached out and pulled Mirage into a hug. The unicorn gasped at the unexpected show of kindness, but quickly gave into the hug, wrapping her forelegs around Sunny.

“I’ll stay safe,” Mirage said. The hug ended as quickly as it had begun.

Without saying another word, Sunny spread her wings and took off. Within moments she had vanished over a rooftop.

Mirage watched her leave. With a lingering smile, she set off down the road. She needed to visit her tiny apartment and start planning. Knowing Sunny, there was a dossier on Soarin’ in the dead drop next door. The mare had to have known that she wasn’t going to rest.

It was time to study up on her target and devise a plan to get close to him. She pulled up a mental picture of Soarin’. For an old stallion, he was certainly better looking than her usual marks. Maybe she’d get lucky and be able to bed him before she had to leave.

Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

Timestamp: July 29th, Day of the Agricultural Hex Fire
12:23 pm, Fire Command

---

Cloudbuilder swooped low over the community building being used as their command center. With a quick spiral he landed outside the doors and quickly cantered through the busy doors.

Inside, he was rushed through the line of volunteers; before he realized where he was, a nurse pony had set him down on a chair and proceeded to check his heartbeat with one hoof, simultaneously squinting into his eyes.

The mare caught his attention, asking, “How are you feeling, does it hurt to breathe?” As she pressed her stethoscope to his barrel.

Cloudbuilder jumped at the unexpectedly cold instrument. “N-no, I’m fine. I’m just here to see Spitfire.” He tried to stand but the nurse set a hoof on his shoulder, keeping him seated. “Where is she?”

The nurse sighed and pointed further down the line. “Over there.”

Cloudbuilder sighted Spitfire, still in her wheelchair, talking to a group of ponies. He couldn’t make out what she was saying over the din of the room, and reading lips was impossible at this distance.

“Thanks,” he said, pushing past the nurse. He trotted over to Spitfire; as he got closer he was able to discern what she was saying.

“... you’ve done today. I want to thank each of you for putting your life on the line.” Spitfire said gravely, touching hooves with each of the stallions and mares.

“Spitfire,” Cloudbuilder began, coming to a stop next to her.

The chair swivelled around, the fiery mare was getting rather adept at maneuvering it, the stallion noted. “Cloudbuilder!” She all but yelled. “What is going on? I’ve not had a solid report for the past fifteen minutes.” One hoof rapped out double-time on the tile flooring.

Cloudbuilder drew in a breath, “The relief team is at the northern section. So far, everything seems to be going well, but the wind is picking up and the pegasi are having trouble countering it. However, there’s something else you should know.”

Spitfire listened silently, nodding as he continued, “We caught a lucky break. An airship showed up with sixty barrels of water." He held up a hoof as the orange pony's mouth shot open, "I’ve already got the water being distributed; and the captain of the ship has agreed to back off, but remain in the area in case we need him.”

“Wow, that’s...” Spitfire bit her lip and frowned. “Nevermind... this is good, just what we need. And you actually did something somewhat smart, good job.”

Wheeling herself to a window facing the flames, Spitfire stared at the scene for a moment. It was difficult to see what was going on, smoke obscured much of it at this distance. The flames she could see eclipsed any chance of seeing the ponies working on the firebreaks. There wasn’t an airship in sight, which was to be expected.

Spitfire slammed a hoof on the window sill. “Damn– I need to be out there!" her other forehoof waved violently through the air, "This operation is getting cut too close. If only I could do something!” she exhaled like a deflated balloon.

“You are doing something, Spits.” Cloudbuilder gestured all around him with a hoof. “You’ve organized everything. I have no doubt that this whole Hex would burn without you here, leading.” He set the hoof gently on her shoulder. “You’re doing exactly what you need to be doing.”

Spitfire turned away from the window, shaking her head. “It isn’t enough. Ponies are out there risking their lives and I’m not out there alongside them.” She grimaced and shook the stallion’s hoof free. “Whatever. That’s not important. I need you back outside, Cloudbuilder; as long as you’re fit, I need somepony bringing me back updates." She frowned as a new thought struck her, "Where’s Soarin’? I’ve not seen him since he went out the first time.”

Cloudbuilder thought for a moment, “Last I saw him, he was leading a team of pegasi. Some sort of...” he tried to remember the term Soarin’ had used. “Fast-response team, um, I think. They’re some of the strongest fliers, going wherever is weakest. If you want, I can send him to talk to you.”

The orange pegasus shook her head sharply. “No, let him do his thing. I want you to tell the captain of that airship to touch down on the field just outside as soon as he’s done with those barrels. If this plan fails, we’re going to need as much transportation for the wounded as soon as possible.”

He nodded. “I can do that. Anything else you need?”

“No, get your butt back out there.” Spitfire sent him off with a wry grin, but it quickly turned into a look of envy as she realized she couldn’t follow.

---

Timestamp: 29th July, 12:26 pm

---

Trinket had been right, Crescent acknowledged, his head clearing. Going straight after the PRF would have been both foolish and reckless, seeing how there were ponies needing help at the moment.

There had been a Hexline started for evacuating ponies to safety, taking volunteers to fight the fires on the way back. He stood with assorted ponies equipped with either tools, buckets, or Magitech devices of some sort. Not being a big fan of that sort of stuff, he stood at a bit of distance from them; containing magic for others to use might seem like a good idea to some, but for Crescent it seemed like trapping a part of someone's soul.

They reached the Hex, a breath of smoky hot air met them as they debarked. An impatient looking pony with a clipboard waited for them, probably wanting to tell them where to go and what to do about the fire. Crescent itched to get moving – but obliged, as it seemed there was no way to pass without enduring the briefing.

"Okay, listen up," the earth pony barked, loud enough to be heard over everypony else. "The situation is desperate, and we badly need your help to help as many ponies as possible..."

The stallion paused, seeing he had everypony's attention now, and sighed. "I realize many of you probably have family or loved ones out there – but do not try to hunt down specific individuals, all you will do is screw up our efforts to help everypony, and make us waste somepony helping you– IF we don't just let you fry."

He glared at the crowd, not at all convinced his message had been received. "You will go as a group, so don't try to strike off solo, or be a hero – it won't end well! Now go, and be safe!"

The functionary paused, flipping the sheet on his clipboard, eyeing another note beneath it, before turning back to the assembled volunteers. "One last thing, anypony whose special talent has to do with fire, heat, or extreme environments, please step over this way," He waved a hoof in the direction of a grizzled looking unicorn with a rather inauspicious eye-patch. Four ponies huddled around him, looking confused and nervous by turns, but determined.

A different earth pony lead the majority of the offloaded ponies to fill their buckets and attached faucets to the Magitech containers to use them to probably refill buckets with water spells. They didn't really seem to question the one without either bucket nor specific water abilities but then again they had a heated task on front of them.

The unicorn watched Crescent and two other ponies, an earth mare and another unicorn, approach, glancing at their flanks in an entirely business-like manner and nodding at what he saw. "Very well," he grunted, "You three have jusht been shelected to join the reshcue team. We're going to search the area that'sh already been burnt, trying to find any shurvivors. If you have any reservations about this, shpeak now and no judgement will be cast on you." Crescent couldn’t quite place the accent of the stallion, it sounded like he only had half a tounge but didn’t let that stop him from talking. The unicorn inclined his head, brows furrowing, "But if you come with me, quitting after we shtart is not an option."

He watched them for several moments before nodding again in satisfaction, "My name ish Nickolash Coal, I'd shuggest you introduce yourselves, but make it quick, we've little enough time as it ish."

Despite his words, the old unicorn continued his speech. "Okay poniesh," the grizzled stallion bellowed. "We'll take Apple Lane and work our way towards Hoofing Hill, aund we won't shtop until we can’t go ennuh further! An keep yuir eyesh peeled for anything the fire hasn't deshtroyed. It'sh possible there might still be some food storages that haven't yet been burnt to the ground!"

There was a collected agreement amongst the ponies as they finished their preparations. Crescent had to say it made sense, there would be difficult to keep the saved ones going if there was no food left.

---

12:28 pm, Airship

---

A wooden door swung open, revealing a plain room occupied with a bed and a saddlebag. A blue earth pony entered the room picked up the bag and slung it onto his back. Breeze knew that he needed to meet the leader of the fire brigade, so that meant getting to the ground. The ship began to lurch to the left and vibrate, the travel away from the smoke had begun. It’s time to leave , the stallion thought.

Breeze ran down the hallway, before stopping at a second room and opening the door. Inside the room had dozens of backpacks, designed to be worn even with a pair of saddlebags. Breeze smiled, parachutes were going to be perfect. Grabbing one and swinging it on, the stallion left the room just as fast as the previous one.

The stallion ran until he appeared on the deck of the airship, he then proceeded to scan the crew, searching for a certain unicorn. Finally he came into sight, yelling at a few pegasi who grabbed two barrels and flew down. “Hey, captain!” Breeze galloped over to the captain, summoning his attention.

"What?" The seasoned airpony wiped a wet kerchief over his horn.

“I need you to finish this delivery of water, after that you can drop my supplies off at the command centre. Then our deal is over, and I’ll leave.”

The captain grumbled, not relishing being told his business, but nodded, "What'ere gets ye off my ship."

Breeze nodded with a grin, excited to carry out his plan. “Well then, don’t wanna keep you waiting, Captain.”

The unicorn frowned, catching sight of the pack strapped over the younger stallion's back, but couldn't get a word out before the blue earth pony had turned around, racing for the edge of the ship at full gallop. Stopping in front of a barrel and lifting it, for a green pegasus to get a hold of and deliver.

Breeze turned to get another barrel of water, before seeing a familiar blue pegasus in the distance. “Why did he return?”

Cloudbuilder flew towards the airship. As he got close, he spotted the captain standing on the deck. Rather than shout, he waited to speak until he was standing on the deck.

“Captain,” he said. “When you’re done offloading the water, if you could land in that field right there,” he pointed to a field just beyond the building where the command center had been setup. “If things go south, we’re going to need a quick escape for all the injured ponies in there.”

The unicorn shrugged and then nodded without saying a word.

Breeze trotted behind the blue pegasus, “Hey Cloud Bolter, think you can help me out with something?”

The pegasus swiveled his head without moving. “It’s Cloudbuilder. And what do you need? I'm kinda' busy.”

“I need to see your leader, I want to help out some more. What’s their name?”

“Her name is Spitfire. She’s over in the command center, right next to where this ship’ll be landing.”

Breezes eyes widened in shock, “Spitfire? I must talk with her, mind if you can guide me there?”

Cloudbuilder looked over the side of the airship at the over thirty meter drop to the ground. “I can come back when the ship’s landed.”

Breeze’s cocky smile lit up, “no need.” He chuckled before vaulting over the side rail, whooping in excitement.

Cloudbuilder watched the pony, mouth agape, wondering what he could possibly be thinking. Folding his wings, the pegasus dove over the railing, intent on saving the idiot before he became a smear on the ground below.

Breeze counted five strides before pulling the parachute cord. He lurched back into into an upright position as the large bubble of cloth slowed his descent. 'That was fun, I should do this more often.'

Cloudbuilder twisted his body, banking to the side, yelping as he narrowly avoiding taking a faceful of parachute. “Dammit!” he swore.

Breeze heard the cry, looking to his right he saw Cloud Builder. “Sorry, but I don’t like waiting.”

---

12:32 pm, Overhead

---

Mirror could no longer visually distinguish the ponies on her crew from the smoke they were fighting - so soot-stained was everypony's coat. She listened for the telltale coughing and sniffles instead. Bad as the pegasi might have it, the ground crew would be worse off without the relief the air crew was trying to provide.

Listening to Cinnamon Twister's hacking coughs, Mirror was afraid the pony was spitting up bits of lung now. 'This is insane… they've got to have a relief crew for the relief crew...'

"Okay, everypony, you've been at this for …" she wiped the greasy smoke residue off her watch, "Whoa, twenty-five minutes? Yeah, you guys need a break."

An older stallion sniffed loudly, 'that'd be… Nimbus… um… Bolt?' "Miss Shine, however tired you are, can you understand that the crew working under us has twice as many problems? This hardly seems like the time for a break."

Mirror smiled widely. 'Don't get mad, don't get mad, don't get mad...' and took a deep breath. "Mr. … uh, Bolt, not all of us have your stamina. And while I totally get what you're saying… if our younger fliers start falling on the digging ponies, how does that benefit anypony?"

The stallion shrugged expansively, washing his hooves of irresponsible youngsters.

Mirror screwed on a neutral expression, "OK, great, you guys hang out up here for just one second, I'll let the Ground Crew Leader know that we're heading out, and that they should move until we can get a new relief crew out here."

Two minutes later, Fallow Fields, the Ground Crew lead pony nodded as Mirror finished her explanation. "Well, we've almost finished over here. I figure we'll meet up with the next group over."

Mirror nodded, resisting an impulse to salute, and flew off to take her crew back to the Command Center.

---

Wiping sweat from his brow, Soarin' considered the last time he’d pushed himself this hard. Probably his last workout day in the Wonderbolts. He had been flying from one end of the fire to the other, non-stop, assisting pegasi teams wherever he could. Mostly by shouting encouragements and advice on how to use their wings and energy more efficiently so they wouldn’t tire out as quickly.

This had the unfortunate effect of tiring him out quite effectively. At the moment, he was catching his breath at the fire team’s temporary headquarters. Soarin’ wasn’t planning on staying long - the ponies outside still needed his help. Sighing explosively, Soarin’ forced himself up off the bench, heading over to where Spitfire was directing everypony.

“Going crazy yet, Spits?” Soarin’ greeted his old friend with a weary smile.

Spitfire returned his greeting with a grim smile of her own. “It is hard to just sit here. How is it out there?”

“Well, we’re pushing it back, thankfully. Hard work.” He flexed his wings through their arc of motion, noticing his old friend's jealous gaze, and tucked his wings away feeling abashed.

Spitfire reached up and gave him a quick pat on the withers which released a cloud of ash from his coat. “Stay safe, Soarin’. As important as the fields are, they aren’t worth dying for.”

“No, but they are worth fighting for... I’ll see you around, I need to get back out there.” Soarin’ kissed Spitfire on the cheek before waving as he headed back outside.

As he pulled back, Soarin’ thought he'd caught a glimpse of confusion in her expression before he turned away quickly. 'Gotta stay focused now,' he chided himself, pumping his wings to take off. There were ponies counting on him.

Spitfire blinked as the stallion hurried away. What... was that? Soarin’ had never kissed her before, ever. Why would he do it now of all times? It was odd, to be honest what she remembered about Soarin’ was that he would often go out of his way to avoid her while in the Wonderbolts. After a moment, she shook it off and returned to her work, there were more important things for her to be doing right now.

Outside, Soarin’ quickly took to the air, thoughts filling his head.

He’d always had a bit of a crush on Spitfire, and it’d only grown during their time as Wonderbolts. There had always been something holding him back, some rule, some regulation... some fear of her rejection. Then she’d become Captain, and it became a matter of knowing that only bad things would happen if he were to admit his feelings.

So he’d worked hard at keeping his feelings hidden. Bottling them up, hiding them from everypony, and doing everything possible to make sure that Spitfire never found out. When they’d retired and split up, he thought that the many years spent split apart would have calmed that flame.

But seeing her again as the police captain, after all that time, only made it burn brighter and stronger. Then she’d gotten kidnapped... and he knew that he couldn’t hide his feelings any longer. After all, if today was his last day, he wanted to live it with no regrets.

As he flew through the air and felt the cool wind flowing through his mane, he could feel his thoughts calm, as they always did when he flew. He knew that he was grinning more than he should be in this kind of situation, but at the moment, he didn’t really care.

---

12:43 pm, Fire Command

---

Mirror groaned, "Look, I'm fine, I just need to ask Spitfire–"

The nurse clucked her tongue, "Oh no, I'm not falling for that one again, every other pony who's come up here has 'just needed to talk to Spitfire'. Just look at what's happened to your gray coat, it's practically falling off."

The pegasus groaned. "Lady, my coat is white, that's residue from flying into smoke for the last half hour."

Mirror watched the nurse's expression shift to an 'o' of horror, and groaned inwardly. 'Ok, that was the wrong thing to say to a medical pony...'

"No, wait, listen I'm a volunteer–" Her eyes widened as she saw the needle the other mare was preparing. The pegasus pushed her back legs into the floor as hard as she could while jackknifing backwards, which resulted in the wheelchair dumping her onto the floor behind where she had been sitting. Not bothering to flip upright, she beat her wings arhythmically, sliding into the wall where she used her forehooves to push herself into a roughly orthogonal position.

"Sorry, I really gotta go, bye!" Mirror cried, flying down the narrow hallway.

Splint Brace looked down at the aspirin and glass of water she'd been preparing and shook her head.

---

12:44 pm, burning fields

---

Crescent pushed aside another burning post. He couldn't afford to use his magic, as it was all that prevented him from catching on fire himself. The others had long since had to turn back, being more fire-resistant than fireproof. Only the two unicorns had been able to press on into the worst hit parts.

Coal shook his head, "Lad, I admire your shpirit, but I jusht don't think there are any more shurvivors in thish area."

The swordspony spared his elder a glance, "I have a feeling about this place. Look at the walls," The stout stone silo looked as though it might have been able to insulate anypony who had fled there from the worst of the heat.

Of the four previous buildings, all had been busts, but Crescent was determined to try one more time. He pushed the images of the ponies who hadn't survived from his mind.

He shook his head, trying to focus on the positive. "Hello, is anypony in there?" he called, shouting to be heard over the crackling. "Please, call out if you can hear me!"

The silence stretched for an agonisingly eternal moment before there was a knock in reply. A muffled voice filtered through, "We can't open the door, everything is on fire, I-I'm sorry!"

The younger unicorn wiped an eye as Nicholas slapped him on the back, laughing aloud.

"Just stay calm, Ma'am," Crescent called, "We’re gonna get you out." He had an inappropriate urge to crow.

"Oh thank Celestia," came the reply.

He was about to use his sword on the door when Coal stopped him. “Are you mad? Break that door and the whole doorway will fall and trap them for good and all.”

The swordpony shrugged, “Well we don’t have time to find another way around, do we?”

Coal frowned, "What about yuir shpell, lad? Can you exshtend it – cover an area with it?"

Crescent thought about. It should be possible, but he hadn’t tried on such a wide area. “I can try, though I’m not certain it will work.”

"That'll have to do, Creshent." Nicholas nodded, putting his head up to the door, "Mish, I'm going to need you to trusht us, it's going to be safe for you to open the door; we cawn't get you out, otherwise."

Crescent redoubled his channeling as he heard the door's bolt being unlocked. The sword hummed and whined, but the spell expanded to cover a radius around the stallion, including the doorway. He knew he would feel the cost for this, later, but at the moment all that mattered was getting these ponies to safety. He felt the older unicorn channel some of his power and accepted it, as little as it was – he was going to need every bit he could scrape together.

The door swung open and a crowd of disbelieving ponies glanced out, marveling as much at the shimmering unicorn as at the fire that raged only a few strides away. It was obvious that all the ponies nearby had run for the structure when they realized they couldn't escape the inferno. It was a motley assortment, and a depressing number were obviously wounded or favoring a hoof.

“Quickly, we can’t hold this for too long!” Crescent could already feel the heat increasing.

The rescue mare and Cole started getting the ones inside out without causing too much disturbance for the swordspony. They seemed to have gotten everypony out when one of the rescued mares cried out.

“Sally – my filly – where is she?" The mare's head whipped side to side wildly, "Where is my filly?" Sally!” she bounced from one hoof to another, her breaths becoming ragged.

“Mom!” A quavering voice called from the burning building's second floor.

The mother mare gasped, jumping. “Hang on sweetie!” she cried; before anyone could stop her, the mare rushed back into the burning building.

“Ma’am, wai-" Crescent's jaw dropped. "By Luna’s horseshoe! Cole, get the other ponies to safety, I’ll go in after her.”

Cole just looked at him. “You aur a madpony Creshent, the door will collapsh as shoon as you let go of it. You’ll trap yourshelf in there with them.” The older pony's words pleaded caution, but something else twinkled in the back of his eyes. Perhaps it was a trick of the flickering flames.

The younger unicorn snorted. “Yeah, like I would leave a mother and her child in a burning building.” He galloped inside without a second thought.

The door crumbled as he barreled through, his tail nearly catching alight. Inside of the house was a chaos of thick, roiling black smoke and flame. He caught sight of a stairway behind a counter across from the doorway. A wooden support pillar had smashed a wide hole through the floor; the only way across seemed to be jumping. Crescent took a step back, marshaling every hoof-span of run-up before leaping across the burning pit.

Air rushed past, all sense of gravity suspended for a crystalline instant; his hooves scraped flooring, the groan of collapsing timbers shotgunned behind him as the floor near the entrance crumbled into the inferno. He grinned, completely committed now that the way back was a dead end – as if he had needed another excuse.

He hurried hopped the many missing stair steps, coming to a corridor of open doors, flames licking out from the openings. Intense heat and the constant crackling sound of failing wooden walls and creaking crunch of splintering support beams didn’t do much to help as he started searching for the mare and foal.

“Ma’am, where are you?" Crescent called out, adrenaline making every second an eternity. "This is really not the time to play hide and seek!”

“We’re here!” the mare yelled. “The beams collapsed – we’re trapped!” Crescent found the mare tightly hugging a small filly. Burning beams had tipped, trapping the two of them against a wall.

“Stay right there, I’ll- I’ll find a way to get you both!” The room was ablaze, he couldn’t get through; the only way was through the fires.

“Okay, Miss," The unicorn took as deep a breath as he could in the choking miasma, "I have an idea – but it will be dangerous.”

“Worse than burning to death right here?!" The roof sank, raining embers; the filly screamed. "Just- just do it already!”

“Okay… sit, sit still.” He drew his sword, pointing it at the fallen beams.

Adrenal panic, weeks of frustrated depression, choking smoke, and the growing psychic backlash of overextending his magic pressed on Crescent's mind, all but obliterating his concentration, but he refused to give up. He let the image of a flaming snake grow until he let it sliver through and out of his sword. He directed it onto a specific log and let it twirl itself around it, making the wood creak as it tightened its flaming body around it. The mother and the filly shuffled further away as the fire snake heated things even more. Suddenly the beam with the snake snapped, making it all crumble before wrecking the floor so it all fell to the lower floor, leaving a small pathway for the mare and filly.

“Alright, ma’am, we have to get out – now!” He held out his bandaged hoof to her but she seemed to halt. “Hey, are you okay?”

The child collapsed like a marionette lacking tension. Now slack, she lay limbless. Crescent could hear the mother mare drawing in breath to scream, and he scooped the filly up with a last bit of magic he shouldn't have had, depositing the – thankfully still breathing, he noted – fallen filly on his back before gently nudging the other pony.

Crescent praised the Pony Sisters when the mare simply stumbled along next to him, occasionally leaning on him for support as her own burst of energy waned.

One hoof went in front of another, and that had to be enough, for the moment.

---

12:46 pm

---

Breeze stepped into the building, taking in the atmosphere and sight of bustling ponies. He turned to the blue pegasus beside him and smiled. “Thanks, Cloud Builder, for taking me to Spitfire. I owe you for this.”

“Yeah well, next time warn me before you just jump off an airship. And especially before you pull a parachute in my face,” Cloudbuilder grumbled.

Breeze laughed and apologized a fourth time. “Sorry. But, like I said, I don’t like waiting. Now where is Spitfire?”

The pegasus jumped up, hovering over the heads of the crowd. In a moment he had spotted Spitfire. She had moved to a hastily arranged set of tables further in the main area. Wheelchair wedged under a table, she examined a piece of paper with a mixture of determination and boredom.

“She’s over there,” Cloudbuilder said, settling to his hooves. “Come on.” He set off, winding through the ponies in the room.

“Ok, I’m following.” Breeze tailed his guide, through the maze of ponies. After an interminable two minutes of pushing past ponies, his guide halted.

Cloudbuilder came up behind Spitfire, who was looking at a map of the Hex. Hastily penned lines had to be firebreaks. She scribbled indecipherable notes along one edge.

“Spits." The blue pegasus said, careful to be out of hoof's reach. "Somepony wants to see you.”

The mare lifted her head up, looking up at Cloudbuilder with a creased brow. “Who? More importantly, why aren’t you out there? I need to know the progress of the firebreak.”

Cloudbuilder nodded, “Far as I can tell, he’s the one who hired the airship. Breeze... Something.” He shrugged.

Spitfire’s glare lessened as she looked the stallion over. “Fine, but get back out there and get me updates.”

With a nod, the pegasus stallion left. Spitfire gave Breeze her attention. “Why are you looking for me?”

Breeze took a deep breath, calming his nerves. “I’m-”

"Gangway!" A gray blur cried, spilling across three tables and rolling to a stop on the other side of the room.

Breeze looked on, mouth agape in surprise, at the source of the interruption. “Well… that was unexpected.”

Mirror rolled to her hooves, eyes darting back to the door she had burst through. "Is she gone?" Taking a moment to breathe, the pegasus examined her surroundings.

Spitfire took deep breath before turning back to the earth pony. "You were saying?"

Breeze blinked a few times before snapping back into focus. “Yes, I’m Breeze Green, it’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Spitfire.”

“Skip with the introductions, Breezie.” Spitfire snapped sharply. “I assume you are the airship’s captain?”

Breeze frowned, this 'Spitfire' was certainly straight to the point. “It’s Breeze. And no, I’m not the captain. I’m the one who hired him to help you. I was going to ask to speak with you another time, in private. I also want to help fight the fire.”

Spitfire raised an eyebrow, but she gestured towards the fire. “By all means, Breeze, we can use all the ponies we can get. There are plenty of shovels, and buckets, for some reason.”

Breeze smiled and saluted Spitfire, “I hope to see you again, Madam Spitfire.” The earth pony then turned and grabbed a bucket, running out the door.

The former Wonderbolts Captain watched the stallion depart, rather annoyed that the earth pony couldn’t have simply headed out and helped in the first place, she didn't have time to meet each volunteer. 'Wonderful, more trouble.' She sighed and tried not to roll her eyes.

Spitfire had a nagging feeling she'd forgotten something. Her head turned, catching sight of a coal grey pegasus. "Mirror, do you need something?"

"Um, have you seen Soarin'? We need a relief team for the relief team." The pale pegasus brushed her coat, failing to make either her fur or hoof any cleaner.

"Cloudbuilder said he's in the Northern Sector." She gestured broadly with a forehoof. “But we’re running out of ponies, Mirror. I’m not sure if we’re going to get many more relief shifts.”

Mirror sighed, "Well, I don't know what we're going to do, then.”

Spitfire took a deep breath. “We’re going to keep working until the job is done. I’ll round up all the ponies I can in here and send them back out.” She rolled her chair in front of Mirror. “Just make sure everypony gets out if we can’t finish in time.”

Mirror nodded, deciding to snap a salute. "Got it."

---

12:51 pm

---

An indistinct shape staggered out of the smoke, resolving into a unicorn supporting an earth pony with a haunch and a foal laying on his back. A half-dome of sheerest shimmering green energy was barely visible; smoke, ash, and flames slid over the ephemeral barrier. The stallion coughed, the motion shaking his frame but not seeming to disturb the foal in the least.

"Hey, you there!" he shouted at the disbelieving ponies who had stopped digging to watch the spectacle, "Care to give me a hoof here?" His hoofsteps faltered, adding a staccato counterpoint to his request.

Snapping himself out of his trance, Breeze could scarcely believe his eyes. Dropping his bucket, he ran toward the orange unicorn. Breeze knew a hero when he saw one. “I’m Coming!”

---

Chock-full of Dr. Techno, Lightning Eyes, Muse Scroll, Dark Phoenix, and Sasha Nein
Contains 300% the recommended daily amount of electric Riboflavin

Timestamp: July 29th, the Long Day continues
12:59 pm, The Trenches

---

The trenches were finished. 'Well, all except this last portion,' Cloudbuilder noted. He didn’t know how they had managed, but the pegasi had kept the fire back just long enough for them to finish... All except this part, where the fire had broken through, forcing the ponies to abandon the trench early. The only ponies left on the ground were a few frantically digging earth ponies, two other pegasi, and Cloudbuilder himself.

He couldn’t quite recall how he had gotten himself into the mess; but he was present, and letting Spitfire down wasn’t an option. He labored in silence alongside his fellow ponies; though he couldn’t help feeling his hair rise as the crackling of the flames grew louder.

Standing up on his hind legs, he was barely able to peek over the trench wall. A whoosh of blistering air swirled up to greet him. The burning heat, even tempered with the cooler air from behind as the pegasi above continued to provide support was blistering. The fire was well within fifty strides now.

A quick glance showed said they still had about twelve hoof lengths left to go before they broke through the dirt wall. Basically, still far too wide of a gap for them to leave. He dropped back down and shuffled along the trench.

The nearest earth pony stepped back, spitting the shovel out of his mouth. “Arg, this hardpan is tough stuff to dig through, someone else gerrup here and give me a breather!” he half-panted, half-shouted.

“I’ve got it,” Cloudbuilder shouted back. It was getting very difficult to hear anything over the roaring of the fire. “Get out of here!” Spitfire would want as few ponies as possible to be here at this point. Fewer lives on the line this way.

The earth pony gave a nod. Keeping as low to the ground as possible, he crouched his way out of the trench.

Four more ponies remained in the trench, three earth ponies and a unicorn who was rather large and burly for a member of his tribe. One of the earth ponies came up behind Cloudbuilder as he bit down on the shovel handle. “You should be the one getting out of here! Those feathers'll crisp a whole lot quicker than flesh!” he shouted.

Cloudbuilder shook his head, swinging the shovel at the wall. There was no way he was backing down now, with only four ponies; it was too close to say if they’d finish the job in time. His presence at least gave them a greater chance… and chased away images of fires he'd started only a month ago. He shook his head more vigorously, driving the memories away. The earth pony shrugged as if to say 'okay, okay, you can stay if you want to'.

Every breath of hot dry air burned Cloudbuilder's lungs. The sweat on his body evaporated as quickly as he produced it. He felt like his strength was evaporating along with it. Every shovelful of dirt he moved felt a mile marched.

Ten hoof lengths to go. They made progress, but so had the fire. Only one pegasus remained above, desperately slowing the blaze. Cloud knew he should be up, but felt he would do more good down here, in the dirt.

He gripped the shovel tighter, driving it into the soil, picking it up, and tossing the dirt away. Earth ponies flanked him on either side, doing the same. Together they worked in a desperate, grunting silence; there was nothing to say, they knew the stakes if they didn’t finish in time.

Eight hoof lengths. Cloudbuilder reared back on his hind legs again. The fire was much closer, he could almost make out individual flames now. If there were any pegasi were still up there, he couldn’t see them at all through the smoke. Not that it mattered much, anymore.

He tried to figure out how fast the fire was going, and compare it to how quickly they were digging the trench. After a few seconds, he frowned. It wasn’t good. They needed to move faster. He wasn’t sure how they’d do it, but they had to.

They’d moved four hooves, eight were left. The fire had moved about three hundred and was nearly on top of them. And the heat intensified with every bit of ground lost.

“We need to move faster!” he shouted. The four other ponies in the trench looked at him. “We’re the last ponies left, and we need to finish this. If we don’t, we stand to lose the entire Hex! Lose this Hex, and we all starve. I for one, plan on not starving. There’s too many other ponies counting on us. So we dig harder and faster, and we don’t let anypony starve!”

Putting action to his words, he drove his shovel deep into the soil, pulling up a large amount and flinging it away.

He barely noticed when the pegasus swooped down. “You ponies need to get out of here!” she was shouting. The trench ponies only shook their heads. Cloudbuilder ignored all of them, taking another swing.

“We’re not leaving until the job is done! Give us just a little more time!” the earth pony who tried to get him to leave earlier shouted back.

“The flames are less than a dozen strides away, we can’t slow them any more!”

“Then back up. But I’m staying,” the earth pony said with finality, picking his shovel back up.

Cloudbuilder nodded to the earth pony. Ten strides... They were only a couple hoof lengths from the other side. He could feel the wall flex a little with each swing, just a little more!

One of the earth ponies dropped his shovel and turned away from the wall. With a thud that was audible over the roar of the flames his hooves powered through, crumbling a hole as the rest of his body followed.

Everypony began widening the opening, reaching up as high as they dared to remove the flammable grass that still clung to the top. Cloudbuilder tried not to grin as he watched the last pegasus quietly pick up a shovel and join the mad rush. They were nearly there! Just a couple of strides of dirt, not grass, wide and they could call it good.

They quickly tamped down the grassy dirt, not bothering to fling it aside. A couple shovel strikes had it mostly buried. It would be fine... so long as the flames had nothing to jump to on the other side.

Another earth pony poked her head over the top but quickly withdrawing with a cry. “Dang, that’s hot! That’s way too hot!”

The unicorn spoke, already in motion. “Quick, back down the trench! The fires were nearest here, maybe we can catch a break a few strides down!” The others nodded, it was better than nothing.

A mad scramble ensued, yet herd instinct held. When one tripped, the others helped them up, by silent consensus, they had worked together, and now they would live or die as a group. No sense in going back on their word now, no point in Cloudbuilder taking wing anyway. Just a peek above the trench wall was enough to confirm that he’d be fried before he made it anywhere. He might get the wickedest tan known to ponydom though.

They sprinted through the trench. It already hurt to breathe, so running made no difference; either they made it out, or they didn’t. There was no half-measure.

The unicorn stumbled to a halt, drawing ragged breaths of what little air there was. Each of them peeked over the trench, and pulled back just as quickly. It was hardly any better here. They were just going to have to break for it.

Cloudbuilder glanced between his compatriots. “Well, I guess this is the end of the line.”

“We may as well give running a try,” an earth pony agreed.

“The name’s Rockhard,” said the one who had tried to get Cloudbuilder to leave, bumping hooves with the others. “It's been an honor, I’m proud to have worked with such brave ponies.”

The large unicorn grunted and turned to face the loose dirt beneath their hooves. “I think I can make us a wall. Won’t be much, but maybe keep our tails from being french fried.”

There was quiet agreement, but the unicorn shook his head. “I’m already trying, I c-can’t seem to form the magic.” His horn fizzled small sparks that were barely visible over the blaze.

They stood in anxious silence for a moment before the unicorn grit his teeth. “I-it’s too hot!” he panted, collapsing onto his knees. Still half-hearted points of light shimmered and spat from his horn.

Cloudbuilder fanned him with his wings, unsure what else to do, at least blowing the hot air around. The unicorn nodded his thanks nonetheless and redoubled his efforts. A moment later the sparse array of sparks fused into a solid – if flickering – field flowing from his horn to chunks of dirt that began to rise and coalesce.

In a moment he had gathered enough for a small wall, which hovered between pony and fire. Barely a hoof thick, the dirt was dry and hot, already crumbling. But it was a wall, and everypony grinned. The unicorn tried to stand and his magic shimmered and faded dangerously, a corner of his wall falling away.

He groaned and laid back down. Before he could speak, Rockhard unceremoniously stuck his head underneath the unicorn, scooping the magical pony up and placing him on his back. “You worry about the shield, I’ll worry about the running.” Rock chuckled.

Instead of nodding, the unicorn levitated the shield above their heads, placing it firmly between them and the fire.

“Well, here goes nothing.” Rockhard grinned maniacally, scrambling out of the hole with everypony close behind.

They took off at a dead sprint, or at least as fast as they could manage, the wall keeping pace behind them. Cloudbuilder looked behind, instantly wishing he hadn’t. Behind them was nothing but flames and a roiling wall of smoke. He could feel the heat on his hooves from underneath the wall as he moved, could feel his feathers curling; there was nothing he could do about it but run, and be grateful he wasn’t on the outside position.

“Hurry!” the unicorn croaked. “I can feel my magic slipping.”

Rockhard didn’t respond, his breath already wheezing worse than a pony on their deathbed with emphysema. But, he put more power into his strides, astounding Cloudbuilder who verged on collapse himself. The pegasus shook his head, by Luna he wasn't going to let an earth pony outrun him, not one carrying a full load of unicorn, at least.

Ten... Twenty... Forty strides now from the fire. Their wall had disintegrated, little more than a shimmer and a few flecks of dust. The heat of the fire was still uncomfortable, but no longer unbearable. Cloudbuilder stumbled, but it wasn’t his earth pony fellows that caught him this time, hooves extended from overhead. Looking up, he noticed a number of ponies had suddenly surrounded them, giving them pats on the back, and drinks of what water they had left.

Cloudbuilder, for his part, greedily gulped down what was offered, grinning with relief as he glanced back towards the flames. All too soon everypony went silent, waiting to see what the fire would do when it finally reached their trench.

They watched it approach, rolling and snapping, the flames rushed forward, greedy for more, more, more. At first they were afraid the literal last-ditch effort wouldn't be sufficient. The fire seemed to balk, rolling back on itself before climbing higher than before, making those who had stayed to watch quail in terror.

The wave of flames crashed forward, like the cracking of some hades-born whip, only to fizzle and steam on the near lip of the trench, retreating with a reluctant hiss, like some sullen snake denied prey it considered its due.

Gouts of steam fogged up, mixing with the smoke. Some few brazen pegasi decided to push the steamclouds back, as though to stem the flaming tide further. Their efforts were short-lived and relatively fruitless, but at least a few felt mollified.

The flames held, ten seconds. twenty… a minute… two…

Roiling, hissing, crackling, the fire whipped back and forth, in a few places vortexes started and the onlookers quailed. The largest even jumped the channel, setting dry grass alight – and twenty ponies immediately set on it, pegasi hurling jealously preserved water, most of which immediately flashed into steam; earth ponies stomped out burning grass, ignoring the sound of their own hooves cracking; while unicorns brushed the flame tongues away with the dregs of their mana. Within minutes they all lay, panting, on crisped but no longer burning ground.

After ten minutes, the fire died down, the onrushing cooler air resonated deep, sounding like the groan of some enormous beast, discontent but quiescent. It was a testament to the heat of the blaze that the ponies who had stood closest to watch now felt almost chilly, even though the summer sun still blazed down upon them.

The first cheers were tentative, as though ponies were afraid of angering the dying fire – of incurring the wrath of Agni, Loki, or Vulcan by proxy. When the flames continued their descent, more voices joined the chorus, until they became their own tide, washing across the entire field.

Ponies forgot their own troubles for a moment, forgot who they feared and hated, just sharing a sense of exhausted triumph with whomever was nearby. It wouldn't last, but in that moment, in that place, they were all brothers and sisters, bonded by survival. And, for that moment, it was enough.

---

01:10 pm

---

The train screeched to a halt, the doors slid open, and uniformed ponies poured out, wordlessly forming ranks. Smoke lingered sullenly, shading the sunlight a sickly orange-brown as Silverhoof departed the train, nodding his approval at the guard ranks. The fire department stalked out, not bothering with regimental display.

"Alicorns above, what a mess." The Guard Captain looked out over the blackened fields, shaking his head. "Come, gentleponies, I think it's high time someone took charge here."

---

1:15

---

Cloudbuilder watched the weary gathering of ponies. Despite the exhaustion and general physical state of those assembled, spirits were high. They had done it. Against all odds, they had managed to complete the firebreak just in time. Perhaps it was simple giddiness, but he felt lighter than he had in a long time. Also sore, but he was just going to live with that.

It had been close, very close at the end. The firebreak had fallen, and ponies of all stripes had pitched in. It was done. A few ponies were keeping an eye on the fire as it burned itself out. The rest were back at the command center, celebrating their success.

Breeze stepped up next to his blue acquaintance, a smile plastered to his muzzle. “So Cloud Builder, what do you say to a celebratory drink? Know any good bars around town?”

Cloudbuilder looked over at the earth pony. “I can point you towards a few. None here in this Hex, since it’s all about farming here. But there’s a couple in the next Hex.”

Breeze nodded, chuckling. “Then after we are finished here, we should head over there.” An eyebrow raised.

The pegasus laughed a little himself, before shaking his head. “You’re more than welcome to go and get a drink, you earned it. I can’t accompany you, though.” He gestured towards Spitfire, who was wheeling her way around the room, congratulating everypony. “I get the feeling she’s going to need my help.” He didn't even try to disguise his smile.

Breeze turned to Cloud with a look of concern. “Last I heard, she went missing – leaving the police force in disarray. Now she returns in a wheelchair helping fight the blaze. Cloudbuilder ... what exactly happened?”

The pegasus sighed. “It’s a long story. Not exactly one for a celebration.” 'Or that I'm entitled to tell you,' he added silently.

Breeze’s look of concern intensified. “Well I have time to spare, but I’ll likely be hearing the story from Spitfire either way. Also, I’m sure she would have no issue with a celebratory drink or two.”

It would've been rude to laugh in the stallion's face, so Cloud simply smiled. “I’ll have to ask her. Give me a moment.” He stood, groaning in sympathy with his abused muscles, and left the earth pony behind, using his wings to his advantage. Spitfire, however, was not where he had seen her just a minute ago. 'She's in a feathering wheelchair, how does she keep disappearing?'

He hovered over the heads of the ponies. Spitfire was shorter than those around her, thanks to sitting in the chair, but she was usually surrounded by ponies, so she should be easy to find. The island in the sea of ponies.

He turned a slow circle. How had she managed to vanish? He finally spotted a familiar shock of fiery yellow mane. She was wheeling herself towards the back door of the building, making a fast pace of it.

She was too far away to call out to, she’d never hear him. Instead, he dropped to the floor and started squeezing past ponies. There were too many ponies in the room to risk flying over them.

He had made it halfway to the back door when he found himself being blocked. Since he’d been out and about during the fire and been beside Spitfire, ponies had somehow come to think he was some sort of hero. Before he could stop it, a group of ponies had surrounded him, offering their thanks for his help.

No matter how hard he tried, or insisted that he hadn’t done anything, they wouldn’t go away. Two months ago this kind of recognition had been all he ever wanted, now he wanted anything but. Somehow the irony did not inspire him to laugh.

Without warning, an emerald green unicorn ran into the building, prancing and shouted, attracting the entire room's attention. “Outside…. The police have arrived and are on their way here!” The unicorn then turned and headed back out, much of the crowd following close behind. No sooner than they had begun to follow did they hear a deep rumbling.

The noise was like a roll of thunder that kept going. As it became louder, it resembled a very casual stampede, louder still, it resolved into the tromping of a great many ponies. Row after row of ponies marched into view, most wearing the blue wainscotting of RPD uniforms, the remainder wore protective yellow cloaks and leather boots with 'gaiters' buckled all the way up their legs.

Straggling ponies stumbled out of the building, staring curiously at the new gathering. Mumbles of conversation rippled through as individuals recognized the crests for the City Guard and Fire Department.

Breeze followed the crowd, looking on, surprised by the rows of ponies. He noted a grey pegasus mare standing nearby. The stallion leaned over and murmured to her. “Who are these ponies?”

She turned to regard the blue pony, expression contemplative, "That's the Ravaalon City Police Department… which probably means that the … um, Captain of the Guard will be with them." Her brow descended into a frown. The mare's view alternated from the assembling crowd to the door of the public building, back and forth.

Breeze couldn’t believe what he was hearing, why the in the name of Luna had the police force and fire department appeared now. They should have come to aid in the fire fighting long ago. He turned back to the same mare. “Why would they appear now? They’re way too late.”

The pegasus shrugged, "Long story." She glanced at the stallion, who seemed vaguely familiar. "You're… not from around here, are you? That's the 'replacement' Chief. He should be worried that Spitfire wants her job back."

Breeze shrugged, seeing no reason not to tell the truth. “I’m the one who brought in the barrels of water we needed via airship." He paused, letting that sink in for full effect before continuing. "I already knew that Spitfire had been replaced, but I thought it was by Soarin, the Wonderbolt.” He opened his eyes wide, knowing that interest was often the best way to keep ponies talking.

"Soarin' had the position for a short time, because Spitfire left a letter suggesting he should be put in charge if anything happened to her. She's good with details like that. However, he didn't actually have any official recognition, so some politicos decided to install one of their on guys, calling it a 'State of Emergency' or some nonsense." She looked at the earth pony again, who seemed to be expecting something. "Um, thanks for the water, I guess?" She turned back to the growing formation of uniformed equines.

Breeze looked at the pegasus again, she looked somewhat familiar. “Yes, well, I couldn’t let the food supply burn to ash. I’m Breeze by the way.” Breeze then had a sudden flashback. “Oh you’re that mare who crashed into the wall.”

"It was a table and the floor; and you really know how to flatter a mare." 'Shut up, go away, and don't make me say it.'

Breeze shrugged innocently. “What? Everyone has their own bad day, today is definitely one of those days.”

The mare smiled in a manner that did not reach her eyes. "Wow, you're just piling it on. First I'm a klutz and now this is my 'off day'..." Something shifted behind the mare's eyes, and she shook her head back and forth rapidly before drawing in a deep breath and sighing. "Look… sorry to be short with you. This has been… a really long day."

'… now buck off.' she didn't say. He showed no sign of leaving. Mirror sighed, resigning herself to having a full conversation, no matter how little she felt like being imposed on by social interaction at the moment.

She looked at… 'he just said 'Breeze', right?' and shrugged, offering a genuine, if half-hearted, smile. "My name is Mirror Shine. I have no idea why you actually went to the trouble of sneaking into this crazy city, but if you did anything remotely helpful about the fire, I should be grateful."

Breeze smiled back, she might have had a short temper but he couldn’t blame her. “Well, Mirror, everypony has been having a long day and I understand that. Maybe we can talk some more after this whole fiasco, I’ll even get us some lunch.”

Mirror's eyes widened, and she slapped a hoof over her face. "No. Nononono… this isn't happening." The mare groaned, just catching a glimpse of silvery mane in the sea of guardsponies. She glared at Breeze, "You're here to drag me back into this nonsense…" She backed up, pointing a hoof at the bewildered stallion. "Some smooth-talking earth-pony who shows up just when it would be amazingly convenient for the white hats." Mirror shivered, "And now… what, I'm supposed to bring you back into contact with Soarin' and Spitifire? Horseapples." She shivered, imagining she could feel the tug of lazy scripting trying to smooth events. She wasn't having it.

Breeze didn’t expect the sudden change in the pegasus, and took a wary step back. “Mirror, I don’t know what you’re going on about, I’ve already contacted Spitfire and quite frankly you’re kinda worrying me.”

The pegasus chuckled, "You know, the normal solution to being bothered by what a stranger says is to leave them alone." She was entirely unsurprised to see the stallion utterly fail to take the hint. No matter, she could drive ponies off even when she didn't mean to.

She shook her head, stabbing a hoof out to point at Breeze. "The Idealist: expects the world to conform to a set of standards alien to the culture and place he finds himself in. Expects a positive attitude and hard work to always persevere. He considers himself a good pony, and therefore anything he does is good… rather than the other way around."

Pausing for a short breath, the mare continued… "Can begin as either protagonist or sidekick… personal evolution generally involves someone dying in a way that simultaneously forces him to 'grow up' and yet reinforces his optimism about equine nature." He didn't even blink, this was going entirely over his head. Mirror shrugged internally, nopony could say she hadn't warned him.

Mirror shook her head, "Now I have seen every - bucking - thing. The Old General, the Heirophant, the anti-Hero, the Redeemed, the pure hearted rogue, the Coltscout, Nemesis, the Bully, the Bureaucrat, the lost Princess, the Sellout, the Last Honest Guard, hay there's probably even a Shadow Master hiding somewhere in the background… and now you show up." She waved a hoof, ending up flapping it about as she realized she wasn't sure what to do with it.

The gray pony snorted, "That's it. I'm done. This is officially over my head now." She pat the earth pony on the shoulder, trying not to grin when he flinched. "Good luck. Oh, and if I can tell you one thing: Cloudbuilder isn't actually as much of an idiot as he first seems to be. Sure, he takes forever to decide, but he makes the right choices… eventually." Mirror vanished into the crowd.

The streaked earth pony stared blankly as the pegasus disappeared into the crowd, her words echoing in his mind as he tried to comprehend her terminology. Finally he shook his head and placed a hoof to his forehead, giving up on attempting to understand the oddity of a mare. 'What in the name of sisters above was that, how did she get so strange, so fast?'.

Shaking memory of Mirror the mare into the back of his mind Breeze resumed watching the officials, he considered watching this play out and remaining sane to be of more importance.

---

01:20 pm

---

Spitfire sat in her chair just outside the command center. It had been a harrowing, hectic day. While she was accustomed to having ponies come to her for everything, it was mentally taxing, and a little irritating when ponies didn’t think for themselves.

While everypony else had been outside, fighting the fire, she’d been stuck inside. Glimpses through a window weren’t enough for her to see what was going on, she’d had to rely on Soarin’ and Cloudbuilder to relay what was happening.

It was galling. She should have been out here, flying around with the other pegasi and helping. Even grabbing a shovel and helping to dig the trench. And now, so many ponies were thanking her for her help, when she hadn’t done anything. It hit her right in her sense of purpose, which had already been a little sore.

She just needed a moment to herself, to breathe. As she sat there, the noise reached her ears. Hooves, marching in unison. A large group of ponies was approaching the building from the front. Only a few ponies were still out, watching the remains of the fire. This was something else.

Giving a resigned sigh, she turned her chair to face the doors. It looked like she wasn’t going to get that moment of peace. 'Typical.'

"Company, HALT!" came a crisp shout. A tall gray earth stallion strode to the front, his mouth turned in a small frown, like his coffee had been too bitter.

Spitfire wheeled herself in and found a crack in the crowd to peer through at the events unfolding. 'Silverhoof.' Her eyes narrowed as she considered her options. 'Everypony's exhausted; now isn’t the time to confront him, not when he's got half the force in tow.' The wheels creaked slightly as she clenched her forehooves, her body not having gotten the same memo as her brain.

'Acting Captain' Silverhoof stood in front of the crowd, uniform neatly pressed, not a wrinkle to be seen. Immaculately clean, not a smidge of soot nor smoke, not a spot of dirt on. His mane was perfect, not a hair out of place. The stallion paused and looked out over the assembled volunteers, his face slipping into neutral, and – a disgruntled orange pegasus noted – his eyes opening just a fraction wider, as though in surprise, before he spoke… having taken just long enough to be sure all eyes were on him.

He coughed, clearing his throat and tapping a hoof against his barrel. "Ahem, Good Citizens of Ravaalon, I must commend you on the excellent and brave work you have done here…" He gestured with his forehoof, encompassing the visible portion of the trenchwork.

The stallion shook his head, a small smile creeping over his muzzle, "Truly, I am humbled by the heroic effort you have all expended here today. It is through your actions that this crisis, grave as it is, has not spiraled completely out of control."

"My officers are currently surveying the extent of the fire, but it appears to be contained for the moment." His expression faltered, lingering on several of the more bedraggled ponies before addressing the mass again. "We will oversee the final dispersal of the fire, to make sure that no stray wind undoes what you have started."

Silverhoof swallowed, as though dealing with a lump in his throat, "Truly, you have worked yourselves to the bone. Please, take this opportunity to rest, and know you have the gratitude of the greatest city in Equestria."

Several moments passed in quiet, only punctuated by the occasional cough from the crowd. The Guard Captain shook his head as if startled from some inner reverie. "Yes, as much as I would dearly love to thank each and every one of you personally, I don't want to delay you from getting your well deserved rest. But perhaps I could speak with the brave ponies who organized this effort?"

He smiled widely and chuckled, scratching the back of his mane. "As a matter of fact, we were rather startled by the commandeering of the city's railways –" He quickly waved his forehoof before himself, "–ah, not that anypony is in trouble… desperate times and all." Silverhoof projected a winning grin out over the crowd, his expectation almost palpable.

Spitfire clenched her jaw and sat stoically. She wasn’t about to participate in whatever little game he was playing. Him being here with this many officers, and fireponies, so late was fishy. He had plans based on this fire... Ponyfeathers! She was almost certain now that it was Silver who caused the fire in the first place! Well, whatever he was up to, she wasn’t going to buy it.

It would be best for her to just sit this one out and watch him from the crowd for a little. There wouldn’t be any more sneaking around after this, everypony would know she was still alive and kicking. No, her original plan was trash now, she needed to figure out how he worked before formulating a new one.

The only reason Spitfire could see him being here with so many troops was that he was hoping to catch some PRF members trying to save their food source. No doubt he had most everypony held back around the storehouses and silos until just a few minutes ago. With control of those, they could starve out the PRF in a matter of weeks if not days with imports to the city shut down.

Still, it was a brutal tactic, and very dangerous. It was quite possible many of the innocents would starve as well, considering there was no way to get off this rock. Silverhoof might very soon have more than just the PRF on his doorstep if he wasn’t careful, and they wouldn’t be happy. Unless he was very dumb, he must realize that if he lost the support of the general populace he would be grossly outnumbered.

Spitfire’s musings came to a close as Silverhoolf continued. She narrowed her eyes as she listened to him lay out his cards.

“What do we do, Spitfire?” Cloudbuilder asked from his position beside her chair. “Should we try and get away?”

“Maybe in a minute, I want to hear what he says,” Spitfire whispered back.

Breeze kept watching the light grey captain, glad that more help had finally arrived. However one question still plagued Breeze , a question that refused to leave the deep crevasses of his mind. He called out to the captain, trying not to sound rude. “Captain, may I ask a question?”

The earth pony's ears snapped forward, "Of course, Mr. … ?" he tilted his head.

Breeze quickly replied. “Mr. Sanders, Olive Sanders. This fire started a couple of hours ago, why wasn’t the fire ponies and police here earlier and helping the civilians?”

The Captain's ears fell and his head hung low. "Ah yes," he sighed, absently adjusting his collar as he spoke… "All I can do is apologize as deeply as I can – it is an unfortunate fact that bureaucracy often slows down the gears of progress – this was the soonest we could have authorization to acquire the equipment and horsepower necessary."

His ears swung back upward, and his spine straightened. "But, I have good news. First of all, you have my pledge that the guard will be relentless in our pursuit of the arsonists, and we will see them brought to justice. As well, I have assurances from my allies on the City Council that this fire will be enough to have a Full State of Emergency declared, meaning that the guard will not be hampered by such red tape the next time such a disaster strikes."

Breeze raised an eyebrow, this didn’t sound right. The Town Centre was previously attacked, that should be reason enough for these ponies to be better prepared for something like a fire. This information doesn’t make much sense, it only seemed more confusing. Clearly, he was going to have to learn more about this city rather than relying on hearsay.

A few faint murmurs came from the crowd, their tones suggesting a rough balance of positive and negative reactions. Mostly they suggested nopony wanted to stand out by speaking. The Guard Captain chuckled, nodding his head deeply. "Very well, I see your leaders are modest as well." One more chuckled escaped his muzzle, almost sounding like a bark. "But if you would do them the kindness of conveying my congratulations, I would be in your debt once again."

Turning the silver-maned stallion gestured to the by now bored looking ranks of ponies. They departed quickly, peeling off to both sides of the building. The more discerning of the volunteers noticed how much quieter their exit was than their entrance had been.

Silverhoof remained behind until the very last of his troops were departing before bowing to the crowd. "Farewell, good citizens of Ravaalon," The smile slipping from his face, "We will meet again." Then he was gone.

---

wached over by the DarkPhoenix,,
Bound together with the Lightning Eyes side of the force,
who prevents havock? notMurphy

Timestamp: July 29th, After the fire
01:45pm, Ag Hex Community Center (temporary volunteer Fire Command HQ)

---

Cloudbuilder watched the police ponies leave. “So, we’re leaving now, right?” he asked Spitfire.

“He kinda let that go rather easily,” Spitfire muttered, frowning as her mind raced. “What is he up to?”

Tapping a hoof to her chin, Spitfire tried to put herself in Silverhoof’s over-polished horseshoes. He would probably be covering the train station looking for suspicious characters, which would basically be any and all pegasi. A dirty move, although she expected no less from an earth pony. Well, he was going to have to land his horseshoes closer to the post than that if he thought he was going to get away picking up anypony there. That probably meant he had the hex's magical force fields raised the moment he got on.

Spitfire tapped a wheel to get Cloudbuilder’s attention. “Let’s go, out the back.” She hoped Silver wasn’t as smart as she was.

Before Cloudbuilder could move, the orange pegasus's chair rattled as a departing pony stumbled into it. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I …" The gray mare's face blanched before she slapped a hoof over her face. "Wow, Spitfire, sorry." Mirror Shine groaned, slowly pulling the hoof down and off her muzzle.

Cloudbuilder stared at the gray pegasus for a moment before he figured out who it was. “Mirror,” he greeted her.

"Cloudbuilder." The mare nodded, too happy to see a face she recognized to wonder if she was still annoyed with the stallion or not.

“Ah, Mirror!” Spitfire smiled. “Just the pony I wanted to see.”

Mirror's expression brightened, despite her efforts to remain neutral. "Uh, thanks." She quirked an eyebrow, "So… does this mean we're under Martial Law now?"

Spitfire’s features darkened. “I suppose it could technically be defined as such. Although I don’t see Silverhoof keeping this up indefinitely.

“But, nevermind that for now.” Spitfire waved a hoof dismissively. “Are you up for some flying, Mirror?”

"Ugh…" The smoke-stained pegasus groaned. "Of course I am." She grinned, eyes betraying her bravado as hollow.

“Relax,” Spitfire said with an air of confidence. She pulled Mirror and Cloudbuilder in conspiratorially. “It’s just a short test we’re gonna do out at the edge of the hex, your mirror making skills should come in handy.”

The impact on the albino was immediate, her eyes coming completely open, and standing straighter, "R-really?", she began absently shuffling through her saddlebags, making sure none of her cloudstuff had decayed too much with the rough work of the day. She nodded to herself, satisfied.

“What did you have in mind, Spits?” Cloudbuilder asked.

“Each hex has a force field, powered by the engines, which prevents any air traffic of any kind from passing through,” Spitfire said as they rolled out. “If this Silverhoof is smart, he'll have engaged it as soon as he was able; I think he’s trying to capture PRF members, and since most of them are pegasi they wouldn’t use the train station unless forced.”

"What is with that guy, anyway? He sounded like he was trying to get elected or something." Mirror grumbled, still distracted by her tools and a half-hearted effort to scrub some of her grimy coating off.

“Spitfire? Are you available at the moment?” Breeze, the blue earth pony was standing 5 feet behind Spitfire.

The fiery mare grabbed the wheels on her chair, forcing Cloudbuilder to stop. “Maaaybe... Do you need something, Breezie?” A tight smile crept across her face because it was more productive than scowling.

Breeze rolled his eyes in annoyance, 'Breezie' wasn’t a nickname he liked. “It’s Breeze, and I did say earlier that I wanted to speak with you. Preferably in private, away from...well from that suspicious Silver guy.”

Spitfire pursed her lips. She glanced at the two pegasi flanking her, Mirror was dead tired and Cloudbuilder wasn’t much better. The sooner they could rest, the better. “Can it wait a few minutes? I’d like to talk with my friends outside for moment, if I may.”

Breeze nodded. “You go on ahead, until then I’ll be speaking with the airship captain.” The streaked earth pony turned and headed towards the opposite side of the building.

Cloudbuilder pushed Spitfire’s wheelchair through the building. There was still a mass of activity going on, the numerous nurse ponies still checking up on the wounded while other ponies gathered up what they could, buckets and shovels, and taking them outside.

Had Spitfire really just called him a friend? Earlier, on the train ride over, she’d admitted that she needed him. But there was a sky of difference between needing a pony, and actually being their friend. Was it possible she was forgiving him for what he’d done?

It seemed too good to be true, but considering all they’d been through together, it was possible. He’d done a lot of things to harm her, but he’d also been doing a lot of good to make up for it. Maybe, just maybe, she was seeing him in a different light.

He wheeled the mare into a smaller room. Nopony else was in here, making ideal for a private conversation. “What’s going through your head, Spits?”

“Over there.” The wheelbound mare pointed at the back door, largely ignored by the ponies at large. “I want us outside to test whether Silver actually put up the barrier; and fast, before he gets any patrols organized... If he organizes any.” She frowned, considering Silverhoof's unknown level of competency, it seemed safest to assume he was either competent, or getting help from the senior guard officers.

Cloudbuilder grabbed the handles of her wheelchair and turned her around. It was getting more difficult to walk upright like this, considering how tired he was. But he could manage it for as long as she needed him. He would do it, for her.

Soon enough, they were out the back door. “Anywhere in particular you want to test this?” he asked. “It’s a ways over to the edge of the hex.”

Spitfire shook her head. “Just out of sight of the police." Her eyes darted over the landscape, "Probably behind the silos would be good, you can’t see the train station from there.” Her chair jolted as they moved.

Mirror nodded absently as she considered the task. 'So she's looking for a coherent beam of light… but with a concentrated field…' She reached into the zippered pouch on the opposite side of her bags, frowning. 'Okay… parabolic… let's say sph +10?' She glanced up, "Um, are we doing this with sunlight, or do you have another light-source in mind?" She idly ran a patch of #9 cloud over the teacup-shaped cone. A mirror could never be too shiny.

“Uh.” Spitfire stumbled over her words for a moment. “All I want to know is if the shield is up, preferably without someone getting zapped or seen or anything. You do what you think is best, Mirror.”

The gray pony nodded, losing herself in thought again. 'Going to need a collector/concentrator, but we don't have room for a full array… gonna have to improvise.'

She cleared her throat, addressing Cloudbuilder "*hem* Uh, could you do me a favor and see if the infirmary has … oh, say about eight basins or bedpans – that have not been used – that we could borrow, please?" She bat her eyelashes, for all that most of them were stuck together.

“I guess I could. Not sure what you need them for, but sure.” He turned and trotted off into the building. She might be slightly crazy, but that mare did know her mirrors, if what Spitfire had told him was anything to go by. If she needed bedpans, then why not, he’d go get bedpans.

"We need to make an Archimeadow-ian beam collect…" Cloudbuilder was gone, and Spitfire was in her own world. "Ah, talking to myself again," She said, refusing to recognize irony. "Time to work on the hard part, I guess." She reached into her saddle for the darkest, densest cloudstuff she had packed.

Cloudbuilder returned, carrying eight bedpans stacked on his back and outstretched wings. “Here. And no, these ones haven’t been used.”

"Perfect, that's a huge relief." Mirror commented, putting together what looked like some sort of non-euclidean sphere woven by an ink-black spider.

She paused, looking up, "Thank you, Cloudbuilder." she managed to say before turning her attention to the metal pans.

Mirror scrunched her muzzle. The pans were of course nowhere near as shiny as she needed. "Well, time to get to work…" She mumbled, glancing up again, "This is probably going to take a while." Her hooves seemed to be acting of their own accord as she spoke, pulling bits of cloud and grit from various pouches and kneading them together.

Cloudbuilder went and stood by Spitfire, watching Mirror work. He’d never seen something like this before. It would have been fascinating, if it weren’t so dull and repetitive.

---

Breeze pushed his way through the crowd, apologizing as he did so. The earth pony stopped and reconsidered his plan, he needed to find Rum Runner. The stallion hopped in place, trying to look over the ocean of ponies. Breeze glimpsed a familiar unicorn who was standing at the door with a cigar clenched in his mouth. Ignoring the attention his hopping had gathered, Breeze resumed pushing his way through the crowd while apologizing.

Several minutes of pushing and shoving later, the blue streaked earth pony finally exited the suffocating crowd. After gathering his bearings, Breeze turned and headed for the buildings right entrance, where the captain was smoking a cigar. Coming closer, Breeze realized that the unicorn was clearly stressed. The earth pony eased up to the captain, staying a good two ponylengths away from him. Breeze didn’t like anything about smoking, least of all the acrid smell. “Captain?”

The unicorn's eyes widened, ash fell from his lips, and Rum Runner made gagging motions as he gasped and choked. Moments later he spat out a sodden wad of paper and burnt leaves. He spat on the ground and ran his forehooves over his tongue.

Breeze recoiled from the unexpected reaction from the unicorn.

"Ugh, *gulp* them things're going ta' be the death of me – but not like that." Rum shuddered, finally turning eyes on the earth pony. His expression fell further.

Breeze grinned at the unicorn.

"So what fresh hell ha' ye come to drag me into this time, lad?" The unicorn's expression failed to remain sour.

“Whoever said I was trying to drag you into anything? I was simply going to ask a question." The blue stallion looked as though butter wouldn't have melted in his mouth. "Before I could begin, you started hacking and spitting like a sick old grandma.” Breeze’s grin never left his face, it was always fun messing with this captain.

"All you have done is criticize me an’ try to get my crew killed." The Captain sulked. "Now I'm trapped in this mad city where they use force-fields to keep a body from even leavin’."

Breeze’s expression turned from a grin to a frown. “I’ve only criticized you within reason, and you must admit that I have paid you well. Now what’s this about force fields and being trapped?”

Rum Runner considered arguing the 'reason' part, but decided it would do no good. "I mean precisely what I said: there's a blasted shield spell what's been cast over this entire accursed farming region, so't seems." He gestured listlessly, eyeing the earth pony's expression he sighed, "In my line'a work it pays ta know if yer about ta crash in'ta sommat ye can't see, so we've a device for spottin' force fields."

“Oh, yes that does make sense, it’s a very smart investment.” The blue stallion complimented the forward thinking of the captain.

Breeze’s eyes then widened, he spun his head around and began digging his muzzle into his saddle bags. After a few seconds of searching and prodding Breeze snapped his head back into it’s regular angle, a thick book in his jaw. He placed the book down, opened it and examined it for a minute.

Looking up Breeze grinned a second time at the unicorn standing in front of him, a glimmer in his eye. “Captain, may I offer a solution to this...predicament?”

The unicorn glanced at the conglomeration of paste and paper dubiously, "... aye? Any shelter in a storm, as the peggies say."

“Help me deliver my cargo, in return I will help get you and your lovely ship past the authorities and out of the city. You may even be additionally rewarded for aiding in the heroic battle against the blaze.” Breeze’s grin showed a look of virulent confidence.

Rum Runner sighed, laughing at his own predicament, "Suppose I've no real choice in th' matter. In for a penny, shame on me, in for a pound, shame on you… as t'were."

Breeze revealed a wide grin, now there was no need to hire anypony. “Fantastic, I’m glad we’ve come to an agreement, Captain. Now before you smuggle me out of here I -”

"Transport, I believe ye mean, Mr. Green." The unicorn grinned.

Breeze shrugged. “Yes, yes, before that I need to remain here for a few more minutes. I’ll let you know when I wish to leave.” Breeze said, turning around to see a hexagonal section of the sky shining bright white. “What in Equestria is that?”

"Whatever yer on to do, ye'd best be quick, I reckon." Rum muttered, shaking his head, not sure whether to be impressed or annoyed. He settled for simply shaking his head slowly.

---

01:58 pm, behind Civic Building

---

Mirror stood back and admired her construction, careful not to breathe too hard, in case the webwork blew out of alignment.

“What... is that?” Cloudbuilder asked. He’d gotten bored while Mirror worked, so had lost track of what she’d been doing. Now she was standing next to some... thing constructed out of the bedpans, which were now very shiny.

The eight metal pans were arranged with their newly shined inner faces pointing inward and toward the parabolic mirror at the bottom, supported by woven strands of dense cloudstuff, which is to say that it was held together with something less solid than hopes and dreams.

The important part was that it probably would do what Mirror Shine had intended it for: creating enough concentrated light in one focused beam to reflect off a magic barrier… maybe. That was the part the pegasus wasn't clear on, but Spitfire likely knew what she was dealing with, seeing as how she was the one who used to be in charge of the things.

Mirror restrained herself from trying to tweak the design again. 'Stoppit, either it works or it doesn't, there's nothing you can do now but hope it's enough.' She paused, Cloudbuilder had been looking at her… probably asked what the hay the thing was.

"Oh! Um, the outer mirrors should gather sunlight, and bounce it off this back part," She gestured at the inverted round cone-like shiny bit at the bottom, "...in order to send out a coherent beam from here, "She placed her hoof over the open side, quickly pulling it back as the greasy smoke residue on her hoof began to pop and hiss.

'Oookay, I guess it's working...' She nursed the singed hoof.

“So what is it supposed to do? I mean, how does sending out a beam of sunlight help us?” Cloudbuilder asked her. It had been quite some time since he’d been to school, and even then, he didn’t think something like this had been in the curriculum.

“Let’s do it, Mirror,” Spitfire said, ignoring Cloudbuilder. “We should do this quick and get back, they still might notice us tampering with the shield.”

"Hmm, alright. Uh, since we're all pegasi, be careful with the apparatus, it's kinda… flimsy," she reached both hooves out, tilting the contraption very cautiously.

“Wait, what are we doing with this thing? Are we... Are we flying it somewhere?” Cloudbuilder tried once again to figure out just what they were about to do.

The mare wiped sweat out of her eyes, entirely unused to standing on her back legs, "N-no… just have to get the angle right…" For just a moment a yellow-white light flashed from the contraption, followed by the projection of a pencil-thin beam of white light from the base of the structure up into the sky in an unbending line.

Cloudbuilder moved over to help her. At least pushing Spitfire around had one benefit, he could certainly stand on his hind legs more. He offered a hoof to Mirror, helping to steady her. The mare nodded distractedly in appreciation.

The beam tracked downward, when suddenly another bright flash blossomed in the sky, a hexagon of translucent whiteness, with lines zagging out from it at complementary angles, as though briefly illuminating a hexagonal gridwork.

“Damn,” Spitfire muttered. “Okay grab that stuff and let’s go.” She rolled forward and held out a hoof. “Here, give me some.”

Since they no longer had to worry about keeping the contraption in one piece, it was quicker to just knock it down and pick up the pieces. Cloudbuilder kicked the thing, watching it tumble down.

Mirror lingered for a moment, a goofy grin spreading across her muzzle, "That. Was. AWESOME!"

“I’ll give you credit,” he said. “You know your stuff, Mirror.” Turning to Spitfire, he addressed her. “Take the bedpans, or leave them?”

The other mare eyed the shiny shiny pans… feeling indecisive.

“Take them,” Spifire commanded. “Leaving evidence might give the police fodder for questions. Questions we don’t really want to be answering.”

With a nod, Cloudbuilder gathered up the pans, distributing some of them to the two mares. Spitfire set hers in her lap, steadying them with a hoof. “So since the shield’s up, and Silverhoof is watching the train station, what now?” he asked.

Spitfire sighed. “I don’t know.”

---

Breeze paced in front of the ship, listening to the ship's sizable engines whine back to life, as they churned out torrents of hot air, filling the ships massive fabric lungs. The blue earth pony stopped, looking down the path to the building. Where three pegasi, one in a wheelchair – with fur of a unique shade of flaming orange – could only be Spitfire.

Breeze trotted towards the wheelbound mare, intent on finishing their delayed conversation. “Spitfire?”

“Well, I’m here,” she responded. “What is it?”

“I did say it’s a private conversation, didn’t I?” Breeze glanced at Mirror, who seemed to be off in her own little world. The earth pony resumed talking, turning back to the fiery pegasus. “I would rather we discuss this on the airship, in a more comfortable room.”

With a sigh Spitfire indicated for Cloudbuilder to push her up the gangplank onto the airship. “Let’s go then.” Dutifully, the pegasus did as asked. It took a bit more strength than normal, but he got the mare up the inclined ramp.

Breeze followed them onto the ship. “This way, please.” He turned towards a wooden door in the ship's cabin and opened it, revealing a large, well cushioned, lounge room. He held the door open for Spitfire and her entourage, shutting the door as he followed them in. “Spitfire, do you trust these ponies to hold a secret of yours? One of great importance and filled with potential danger.” His expression was grim.

Cloudbuilder gave Breeze a flat look. His eyes glanced between the earth pony and Spitfire, sitting in her wheelchair, upon which he was still resting his forehooves.

“Cut the act, Breezie.” Spitfire deadpanned. “They wouldn’t be here unless they were with me. Now, you’ve got your privacy, what kind of mortal peril is Equestria in?”

Breeze sighed, looking at the three pegasi, his face hardened with worry. “I have heard of what the high council of this city has done, treating its own citizens worse than dirt. It’s gotten so bad that it’s about to become a civil war. Spitfire this entire city is balancing on a cliff, you do not want it to fall and neither do I. Who knows what lies on the cliff bottom, most likely the end of this city.”

“We already knew that, Breeze. Do you have information we don’t?”

Mirror looked over, running the last few lines of conversation through her head again. She felt a headache coming on. "Urgh, I don't think we're gonna get a choice here, Cloudbuilder. The narrative flow needs us to go on this stupid airship-thingamabob."

“Quiet, both of you.” Spitfire growled irritably. “Let the stallion talk; honestly, you are all turning this into some sort of drama encounter right out of a Daring Do book.”

"Not really, Daring Do would be much more of a pain in the flank. You've got that going for you, Spitfire." Mirror chirped, grinning sheepishly as Spitfire turned to glare at her.

Breeze raised an eyebrow at the group, this wasn’t what he expected. “Anyways if I may continue, I believe that one solution for this potential catastrophe is equality. I can help with that.”

Mirror stared without saying a word, one eyebrow low, the other raised as high as it would go, head tilted to the side slightly and a sour expression on her muzzle. Spitfire wasn’t faring much better, but she did her best to retain a passive expression. Cloudbuilder wasn’t even trying to hide his expression.

Breeze continued, the expression of concern back on his face. “My full name is Breeze Tongue, I’m the younger brother of Clayton Green and I just came here from the fields of Neighvada. My brother is one of the members of the Ravaalon High Council. I came to ask you one essential question, Spitfire.”

“The suspense is killing me,” Spitfire deadpanned.

Breeze flashed a grin before resuming his speech. “If given the chance, would you like to be a member of the council. I believe the council has a need for pegasi and unicorns who are respected in society, for what they have done to help in times of trouble.”

"K, first thing, you're not even part of the city power-structure, so I don't see you being able to broker power like that; second, it's the Big Money earth pony power block that's giving us trouble. Thirdly, if Spitfire had her old job back, she'd be ON the stupid council." Mirror snapped. 'Ugh, seriously, I need to get a glass of water or something.'

“Mirror!” Spitfire reprimanded harshly. “Enough! I’ll deal with this.”

Breeze narrowed his eyes at the mare, she wasn’t going to make this any easier. “Let me ask you this then, in your previous job, Spitfire, did you do any long term good? Other than trying to reduce the amount of discrimination that was aimed at pegasi. Did you even have a chance to fix things? Well?”

Spitfire turned her ire on the blue stallion before her. “We’re not discussing my past here, Breeze. And if given the opportunity to join the council, I would turn it down. Being in that circle is not where I wish to, or should be. I made a different kind of commitment, to the Princess.”

Breeze took a deep breath and sighed, his face now held a look of sorrow. “I’m sorry about bursting out and questioning you like that. It was rude of me to say the least. I can’t say I agree with your decision, but it’s a choice I respect none the less. Would you still be willing to support me in trying to save this city? Because I need your help and guidance, this whole city needs it. ”

“It depends,” Spitfire mused. “Are your goals trustworthy and honorable? Are you?”

Breeze smiled at Spitfire, he couldn’t help but respect her honesty. “I believe my intentions are honorable.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Spitfire barked. She went silent for a moment, brooding. “So,” she said, finally. “You want to fix this city, huh?”

Mirror raised a hoof, meekly. "Can, can I ask something?"

“You may,” Spitfire said, not taking her eyes off Breeze.

"Breeze, why do you care what happens here?" The pale pegasus pony asked, wings ruffling. "If you don't live here, it's hard to understand what you would have invested in the matter – and it makes us feel more suspicious that you're only in this for some sort of opportunity to take advantage of the situation."

Breeze stood still, considering his response and breathed steadily. “I care about this city because I see it as the gem of Equestria. Princess Twilight originally had this city built so it would represent equality. That and the fact that I personally don’t like watching society tear itself apart. I want to help because that is what I’m best at, just look at my records.”

Spitfire rolled forward. “Well, Breezie, let me lay this out clear and simple. I don’t trust you, and obviously neither does Mirror Shine here. It’s going to take a lot of convincing before I let you anywhere near my plans. But, if you’re truly interested in doing what you say you are, I’d be honored to work alongside you.

“Therefore,” she said after a pause. “I suggest we get started building some of that trust, hm?”

Breeze smiled at Spitfire. “Thank you for this chance, but I never said anything about wanting to know your plans. However I would appreciate hard earned trust between the two of us.”

“Wait, you’re serious about this?” Cloudbuilder said. “He may have brought us the water, but that’s doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy. His brother’s on the council.”

“And that’s exactly why we start with a trial and grace period, Cloudbuilder,” Spitfire growled. “Haven’t you been listening to what I’m saying?”

Cloudbuilder sighed. “I don’t like this.” He took in a deep breath. “But I’ll go along with what you want.”

Mirror put a hoof over her eyes while shaking her head. "OK, I'm done here. You two do whatever, but if he can't be straight to save his own neck, I can't do this. I know bad acting when I see it."

Breeze looked at Cloud Builder, an eyebrow cocked upwards. “Cloud we’ve known each other for at least four hours now, do you really think I would help if I followed my brother's silly morality of greed.”

“You very well could,” Spitfire cut in. “This whole incident could have easily been all Silverhoof’s idea without consent from the council for all we know. You could be here in a panicked move to save your own skin from his insanity.”

“And how do we know you’re not just trying to get close to us now only to turn on us later?” Cloudbuilder accused.

Breeze smiled at the pair, they had every reason to be paranoid. “I won’t lie, you two make good points, but keep in mind that I had no idea Silverass was the new police chief. Last I heard Soarin from the wonderbolts was the captain, I was updated by Mirror when I first saw Silverhoof. I only just arrived by airship, so the first theory doesn’t apply. As for the second theory by Cloud Builder-”

Spitfire cut in once more. “Enough, Breeze. Trying to justify your position isn’t going to change my mind on any of this. In fact, it’s just going to make me be harder on you. In the future I expect to see more action and less talk. That’s the only way you’re going to convince me to trust you.”

Breeze stepped up, turning stern. “Then give me a test or something, don’t make talk if you are going to interrupt. Let me prove my worth.” Even to his own ears his complaints sounded petulant, but the rejections were beginning to wear on him.

Spitfire smirked. “Okay then. Considering how close you are with one of the Council members already, your first test will be to get the three of us off this hex while avoiding drawing any undue attention from Silver. I could get out myself, of course; but, with that shield up, it would be a rather spectacular exodus.”

Breeze smiled and laughed, 'This is perfect.' “Then I recommend you three remain comfortable and don’t exit this room, I’ll order the airship to take off. Enjoy the ride.” Breeze opened the and exited the room, heading to the captain’s quarters, smile refusing to leave his muzzle.

Spitfire retained her smirk as Breeze exited the cabin. She turned it on Cloudbuilder, daring him to say something.

“I hope this works,” he said.

“If he does anything fishy, the three of us have wings and none of the sailors or Breeze do. If he’s true to his word we should have an easy ride right back to the PUR headquarters,” Spitfire concluded smugly.

Breeze stepped up to the Captain, smirk never leaving his face. “Captain, we shall leave when you are ready, let me know when I must speak with the authorities.”

The unicorn canted his head, mouth slightly open, and eyes wide, "Speak wi' the authorities? Ye're out of yer bloomin' mind. The absolute last thing I'd want te do's catch attention off that lot." The captain shook his head back a forth vigorously.

Breeze frowned at the captain. “Now how are we supposed to leave this hex if we can’t get past the shield? We need permission from the authorities to make a temporary hole in the shield so we may leave.”

The Captain lowered his voice and spoke slowly, for all that his right eye twitched occasionally, "If we go through normal channels, they are going to search the ship. If they find we're carrying the former Guard Captain, I doubt that all the pretty speech you can muster will keep us out of hot water."

The unicorn paced, frowning. Off-hoofedly he commented, "That is, unless you can convince the mare an' her cohorts to lie in a narrow confined space for half an hour, possibly more, completely entrusting their fate an' wellbeing to ye."

Breeze held a hoof to his face, rubbing his chin. “Hmm...then come with me and explain the predicament to our guests.”

The unicorn shrugged and stretched his legs, "Might as well, s'pose."

The door to the room swung open, revealing the unicorn captain and Breeze, both of whom entered the room.

Breeze returned to the guests lounge; the captain, trailing close behind, paused at the doorway to lick a hoof and try to slick back his hair. Breeze shook his head and rolled his eyes, but decided not to point out it had looked less sloppy before he mussed it.

Spitfire looked up, moving back guiltily from the complementary fruit basket, from which she had been eating a grapefruit without even bothering to peel it first. Acrid clear juice dripped off her chin as she defiantly wiped it, daring anypony to say a word. "What?" She snapped, "I waff hunfry."

Cloudbuilder said nothing, mournfully eyeing the kiwi-fruit, now drenched in bitter juice and having lost it’s sweet appeal. Mirror shrugged, unwrapping a package of peanut butter crackers. A small effigy of the Great and Powerful TRIXIE stood proudly on the packaging, declaring the snack a great and powerful source of Vitamin B12. Cloudbuilder had commented that they tasted like cardboard, which he suspected was more nutritious, at least containing fiber.

Rum Runner frowned, eyebrows furrowed, "Funny, ai don't remember orderin' no fruit baskets."

Breeze smiled as he shut the door and walked past the unicorn. “You didn’t, I believe I did. Now you may want to explain the problem we are currently having.” Breeze kept smirking, while seating himself on the couch.

The captain reached up to take his hat in hoof – before remembering he hadn't worn one – and tried to turn the motion into another attempt to smooth his hair. "Well, the fact of the matter is, Ma'am – er – Captain… *heh*" Sweat was visibly beading on the unicorn's forehead. "That is to say… we can't eggzactly be taking you 'cross the Hex-line out in the open, the Guard'r obviously going ta be lookin fer you 'long with any o'r ponies a'interest…"

He coughed, beginning to pace, "Which is why… sir – er, Ma'am, that I'm proposing we hide you an yer friends – just fer as long as it takes 'ta cross that checkpoint." He finished with a smile, revealing teeth better than a pirate's, but not by much.

Breeze smirked at the captain, his attempt at lying and failing was a comedic sight, one that brought a small chuckle out of Breeze.

Spitfire stared at the ship's captain, obviously chewing over whether to dismiss the proposal out of hoof or even bother to ask how in Equestria he thought he could fool anypony. She sighed, glancing mournfully at her unfinished repast before addressing the captain. “Where did you have in mind?”

Rum drew in a breath between his teeth, "Weeel, in the second dummy hold under the cargo netting. See, we keep a load of mallow-nettle leaf in the primary smuggling hold, most inspection teams see that an' figure they've got us made, hardly e'en bother checking past the false bulkhead stuffed wi' sawdust, in which we usually keep bottle's o' ketchup in, so if we get one'a he nasty sort, he can stick a blade in, draw back somethin' red, and then realize he's been an arse." The unicorn chuckled, uncomfortably aware of Spitfire’s once-and-future profession.

Spitfire laughed. “Fine, but I want Mirror Shine to stay on deck. She shouldn’t draw too much attention and will make sure nothing fishy happens.”

"Wha–" Mirror coughed on the crackers she refused to admit were terrible, "Um, *kaff* sure."

Breeze struggled to hold back a burst of laughter, watching Mirror choke on crackers was way too funny.

“This doesn’t seem like a good idea, Spitfire. Do we trust them to not turn us over?” Cloudbuilder asked the fiery mare.

"Cloudbuilder, just shut up and do what I tell you." Spitfire sighed.

“Cloud if you don’t like this idea I can offer you a different path, but either way you’re going to have to trust me.” Breeze said with a calm yet stern tone.

"That's not… really a good idea," Mirror said, wincing at the looks her fellow pegasi gave her.

“I have a bad feeling about this...” Cloudbuilder muttered. He didn’t trust Breeze, and trusted Rum Runner even less. But if Spitfire was willing to take a chance with them, there really wasn’t anything he could do but go along with her. If they were caught, he’d make sure that she at least got away. Failing all else, he could just toss her overboard, since whoever the police brought along wouldn’t be pegasi.

Rum Runner nodded, frowning at the pale pegasus pony, "That can be arranged, we've another uniform or two, but you'd have to be up to acting like a shipmate, lass."

For some reason both of the pegasi found this comment, aimed at Mirror, hilarious.

Breeze smiled again, glad that Mirror agreed to pose as one of the crew members. The earth pony then realized something he had forgotten, he spoke again, voice stern and calm again. “Mirror do you have any major criminal record of any kind?”

"Nope." The mare shook her head, "Nothing but a boringly wholesome history as a productive member of society for me." She paused for a moment, considering, "Unless going to poetry slams counts as subversive?" She shrugged, finding it unlikely.

“Alright, Breeze. Let’s see what you’re made of.” Spitfire said. What she didn’t say, however, was much more important. While she didn’t trust this seemingly earnest earth pony, she wasn’t worried that she was putting herself in danger. Even injured, Spitfire was quite confident she would be able to make a break into the air with relative ease.

Hiding down in the ship where she couldn’t take off easily did seem to be silly, but once again she didn’t expect any inspections to have enough ponypower to keep her contained. If they found her, she’d simply walk out with them and fly off at an opportune moment. She had to constantly remind her own troops that the only thing that kept pegasi grounded after being caught was a healthy dose of foolishness, or wing restraints. Even if this Breeze was planning to betray her and garner favor with, whoever it was, he had another thing coming.

“Now where am I to drop you off, or must I take you to where I am staying.” The blue earth stallion smirked.

"We'll tell you on the way," Cloudbuilder said, mollifying himself for Spifire's earlier scolding.

The former Guard Captain frowned, but nodded, "It will be easier that way, since you must be heading to the Admin Hex already." 'Because you have to have connections to somepony in this town, or you wouldn't be acting so confident.' She added to herself.

After a solid nod, Breeze turned to the captain with a smile, a look of determination in his eyes. “Captain Rum Runner, lets head off.”

"As ye say," The unicorn nodded, disturbed to realize he'd been about to salute the earth pony. Shaking his head, he turned to nod at the orange and blue pegasi, "If you gentleponies'd like ta sally this'a way?"

"Seriously, 'Sally'? Who even says that?" Mirror snorted.

"Well I do, fer one, miss." The unicorn snapped, making a note to pick up a hat so the next time somepony insulted him he could screw it onto his head tighter.

---

02:45 pm, Agricultural Hex border crossing gateway: Admin Hex Access

---

The airship's engines hummed in low idle as the vessel was tethered to the inspection tower. Three guards boarded the vessel, led by one Sergeant Bow Break, a whipcord thin earth pony with twitchy ears and three years on the job experience. He flipped through the cargo manifest again… the Captain had been adamant that they screen entrants closely after the fire.

"Ohkay, the paperwork seems to be in order, Captain… Runner," the Sergeant's brow twitched.

"Aye, clear an propper, that's the way to do it." The unicorn nodded cheerfully.

"But, as I am certain you understand… we have our... standard procedures." The guard smiled thinly.

Rum Runner twitched, but smiled. "Aye, of course, of course… right this way, gentleponies."

---

02:58 pm, Cargo Hold

---

Officer Break nodded, having triple-checked his checklist – SOP in the city of Princess Twilight Sparkle – and regarded the Captain again. "Well, you certainly run a tight ship, Captain."

"Well thank'ye, I do try–"

"Which is why I find these loose floorboards to be so very odd." The earth pony concluded, lunging in for the kill. He nodded to his corporal, "Pull the boards up, and be ready."

"Now wait just a cumulous, what in blazes do ya think ye're…" Rum's words died away as the boards groaned, the hastily applied nails easily squeaking out. Two indistinct cloth covered shapes lay between the floor and the hull. The captain slumped against the bulkhead. "Okay, ye got me, fair 'an square."

The sergeant's ears twitched, visions of a promotion floating through his mind as he reached out to prod one sack… and watched a pineapple roll out. "W-what is the meaning of this!?"

"I didn't want ta' pay th' import tax. Me overhead is so low, it's like playin' limbo with a boa constrictor."

"I… what?"

The Captain nodded solemnly, holding his forehooves out, "Ah'm ready to pay fer me crimes."

Breeze stepped out from behind the captain, a smirk on his face, aimed mostly at the unicorn captain. “Officer is this really going to be a problem? If need be I’ll pay the import fee right here, so long as I can deliver my goods on time. I doubt my brother, a member of the high council, would be happy if his delivery came late.”

The Sergeant felt a headache coming on, "I. Am. Not. Arresting you for importing pineapples." He spoke through grit teeth, "That would be a matter for the trade board, who will receive a copy of your updated manifest."

“Oh good, then lets continue on our merry way, shall we?” Breeze said with a cheerful tone.

"Yes, Mr. Breeze, you and your ship may feel free to depart at your earliest convenience." Bow sighed, rubbing his left temple absently. In his mind's eye tiny winged promotions fluttered away in the [s]breeze[/s] wind.

---

Made with the aid of Sasha Nein - always on right on rhyme,
Dark Phoenix - who keeps the beat neat,
and notMurphy… who sells concessions.

July 29, 03:42 p.m. The long day
Airship Cargo Hold (Secret Hold)

---

It was cramped in the small compartment Spitfire and Cloudbuilder were squirrelled away in. There were copious amounts of hay on the floor, but thankfully it was all dry and relatively fresh. For some reason, it smelled like mangos. They might have had room to fit in a third pony, but then there wouldn’t have been room to move at all.

Spitfire wondered if this airship captain was a regular smuggler. She had never really paid much attention to the trafficking of airships to and from the city, there had never been any problems before and the whole idea of smuggling caught her off guard.

Sure, she had heard about it happening with overseas imports or zebra trades. But Raavalon, being in the heart of Equestria, she hadn’t even considered that captains might be sneaking in rare goods to get by on the tax, or for various other reasons. It was certainly something she would have to look into if things ever went back to normal. The way things were going, she might have to start her own little operation.

The pony next to her shifted, his scraggly, dirt smeared coat grating against hers. She glanced at Cloudbuilder and in doing so caught a strong whiff of smoke and singed feathers. He had ash smears along his body where he had sweated and the grime had caked on in rivulets. His whole body sagged, most likely from the extensive exercise he had been through today.

She smiled slowly as she looked him over. As possessive and overbearing he acted, he did at least put his heart into doing things; probably a little too much. Her smile turned to a frown as she contemplated how hard he had worked without complaint. If she wasn’t careful she might run him into the ground.

It hadn’t even occurred to her that he would do so much and still stick around. She’d hoped to run him off today, but here he was, still. Spitfire turned away from Cloudbuilder, feeling a little guilty. She’d always pushed her wonderbolt team to the limit, back in the day; but she never ignored their bodily health, or personal needs, in the process. Cloudbuilder was a pony in her care just like any other, and he deserved to be treated as one.

The stallion shifted again, but she didn’t turn. He was radiating enough heat to be uncomfortable, although it didn’t surprise her. He had just been in front of a fire for the past few hours and they were now sitting still in a confined space. The hay probably wasn’t helping either, but there wasn’t much for it.

Spitfire sighed and shot a glance at Cloudbuilder. The stallion was trying to covertly stare at her, but quickly focused his eyes forward when she looked. Turning back to the hay between her hooves, she mashed it quietly as she continued to ponder her situation.

Why was she even fighting – or, more appropriately – what was she fighting for? If the ponies here were so quick to turn to such violence, could this still even be called the city of light and progress? Was it still the same place she swore to the princess herself to uphold the law in? All that aside, what could she possibly do now to restore that law and order?

'So many questions and no answers’, it frustrated Spitfire. What if she did the wrong thing? What if she made a bad call and ponies got hurt? They were lucky today, in the fire; she had almost over-extended her resources and lost the entire hex. Things might not work out that perfectly the next time.

She could feel herself slowly losing her will and desire to stand by her own morals. What the ponies had done to her down in the depths of the industrial hex, how Silverhoof acted today towards all the ponies who had put their lives on the line, they weren’t good influences on her demeanor. Why should she still hold herself to the laws of the land when revenge was becoming more and more justifiable?

After all she had done, after all that those ponies had done to her, why should she care about giving them a fair chance anymore? They made their choice, thus they should pay the consequences for those choices.

Spitfire sighed again. No, it wouldn’t be winning to stoop to their level and standards. Her desires were not the same as just punishment. If she had her way, they would all suffer the same fate she had. While it seemed fair to her, she knew deep down she would want to do more than that to them.

She forced her mind back to Cloudbuilder. Those thoughts were toxic and if she kept thinking about them there was no telling where she might end up. The stallion wasn’t much of a jump, however. Just the thought of him reminded her of his actions that got her into this mess. But, that hardly mattered, he had pulled through in the end just like she thought he would.

Spitfire knew he had been conflicted from the start. It would have been unfair to call his actions a betrayal, but she couldn’t help but feel cheated and hurt that he had gone so far as to have her kidnapped. Still, he had pulled through and tried to redeem himself; it was now all up to her whether or not to give him a second chance.

He was trying so hard to prove himself, to make up for what he had done. It wasn’t right that she was continually putting him down just because she couldn’t get past the slights done to her, no matter how severe they were. He deserved her attention and gratitude, as well as her trust.

It was hard to see that was the right thing to do, but she could feel herself feeling lighter just thinking about granting Cloudbuilder all those things. It didn’t matter if it didn’t seem fair or not, it made her feel good to be a big enough mare to put all that he had done in the past.

Honestly, if she thought about it, Cloudbuilder wasn’t that bad of a stallion. He was dedicated, even if he took an age to decide what he was going to do. He did seem disturbingly interested in her well being, sort of like something from one of those slice-of-life comedies that ponies like Mirror would put on, but he was probably just obsessed in making things up to her.

Not to mention, if she was really honest with herself, he had a decent physique and was in pretty good shape. He had kept up with her for the past couple days without complaint, and after a thorough washing he could be quite the looker.

Spitfire shook her head. Where in Equestria did that come from? This was Cloudbuilder here! He was that dunce of an obsessive... She sighed, stopping her train of thought when he suddenly shook his head violently. She glanced over at the stallion, but he said nothing.

What was on his mind? Probably going over how little recognition he was getting from her. Probably trying to decide if it really was worth staying with her still. She looked at him again, he was tense and almost imperceptibly fiddling. Spitfire was good at reading agitation, something was clearly bothering him.

A friend would ask what was wrong, wouldn’t they? Of course they would! Spitfire almost knocked herself upside the head. Clearly she was being as slow and thick as a snail in molasses. She took a breath...

---

Cloudbuilder desperately wanted to scratch his flank. Some of the hay was poking him, making him itch. However, he wasn’t sure if he could actually reach down there without disturbing something. Instead he opted to ignore it, shifting around quietly to try and dislodge the annoying pieces.

Spitfire was pressed up against him. Her coat rubbed against his as she breathed, shifting his own hairs. She was soft. For a pony who was a stunt flyer, she took care of herself when she could. Recent events had roughed up her coat a bit, but he could tell that it was still fine.

After the softness, he noticed the warmth emanating from her. Their combined body heat, insulated by the hay, was making the compartment almost uncomfortable. Little droplets of sweat were forming on his forehead, threatening to roll down his muzzle.

He shifted again, succeeding in dislodging at least some of the nuisance hay pieces. He felt dirty, dirtier even than when he’d been stuck in those underground tunnels for weeks. He knew that it hadn’t taken them all that long to fight the fire, but it had felt like an eternity. Flying through smoke, being hooflengths away from scorching flames. Digging with his hooves in the dirt. He desperately needed a shower.

Spitfire took in a deep breath, her coat shifting against his again. As stealthily as he could, he looked over at her. Her coat lacked the same amount of dirt and ash as his, but she had still worked herself hard during the crises, organizing everypony and being a leader. Her ability to inspire others was truly daunting to witness firsthoof.

She seemed deep in thought about something. Her eyebrows were creased and her eyes themselves were narrowed. He wondered what had captured her attention so much. It could be any number of things, from Breeze’s mysterious help, to the fire, to Captain Silverhoof, to the PUR... There were so many things going on.

As stupid as it sounded, even to himself, he wanted to protect Spitfire. She was needed by so many ponies, to solve problems and tackle issues. It was imperative that she stay safe, and as her right-hoof pony, it was his job to see to her safety. Even if she, herself, protested. Like when she refused to go to the doctor.

Spitfire was a precious pony. So many looked up to her. She was precious to the city, the only one who could save it from falling apart.

She was precious to him.

His mind stalled, thinking over that last thought. Where had it come from? What had he meant by that? What did Spitfire mean to him?

Most of his life he’d worshipped Spitfire. She was the Captain of the Wonderbolts. He’d had posters of her plastered all over his room. Then he’d actually met her on that rooftop one night.

His entire image of her had been shattered. He had expected a pegasus who valued and cherished her heritage. Instead, he found a weak mare who had spoken of unity, something that he had been too blind to see was what was really needed.

He had resented her after that, maybe even hated her. Especially after her treatment of him when he’d been arrested. Yet he’d never wanted to see her hurt. Her kidnapping in the park, and the PRF’s treatment of her was brutal. It had opened his eyes to just what kind of ponies he was associating with, what kind of pony Sunny was.

He wasn’t sure he could pinpoint an exact moment when he’d stopped believing in the PRF. But he knew that he had Spitfire to thank for it. He’d seen a side of her that he didn’t know existed, that very few ponies probably knew existed, in taking care of her down in those tunnels. She’d been fully in his care, reliant upon him for everything. And all he’d wanted to do was ease her pain.

Those two weeks down in the tunnels had shifted his perspective on a lot of things. He had been a fool for too long. Spitfire had opened his eyes, and in return he had helped her. Together they had escaped and gone into hiding.

In the overall span of things, his time with Spitfire had been brief, but it felt so much longer. They had seen each other at their worst, and bonded. Their fates were intertwined now. He needed her to survive, just as she needed him to be there for her.

But what did she mean to him? Worship had turned to hatred, to concern. He needed her, he knew that. At first he’d been trying to prove his worth so she would keep him around. But then, it had changed.

He looked over at her again, catching her looking at him. Both of their eyes snapped forwards, neither acknowledging anything. She was a curious mare, always keeping her cards close to her chest. Beyond Soarin’, he might know the most about her.

He still felt concern for her, but as he searched himself, there was something beyond that. He cared for her, as a friend. They’d been through so much that a friendship had risen out of the ashes of their encounters.

But did he care for her as more than a friend? That was the question he was asking himself. What were his feelings for Spitfire?

It was confusing. For so long he’d looked up to her, even had a crush on her. He’d laid awake some nights in bed, fantasizing about her. Maybe this was only the remnant of his crush, surfacing now that he was spending so much time with her. Or maybe he was once again trying to delude himself.

She was special. Even now, she had this beauty about her. He wanted nothing more than to protect her and keep her safe. Did he... Did he love her? It seemed crazy, but nothing about the past month had been sane, so it was possible.

He cared for Spitfire. He wanted to keep her safe. He felt protective over her. He felt this strange attraction to her, beyond her physical looks. At first he had needed her to stay safe, but now he was confident she wasn’t going to send him away. So why was he working himself to the bone for her? So many times fighting the fire, he’d put his life on the line, nearly died, for her.

The more he thought about it, the more the pieces lined up. He cared for Spitfire. It may not be love, but it was certainly more than a friend. He breathed in deep, releasing a long breath.

He had romantic feelings for Spitfire.

It felt so weird to say that to himself. Yet it was true. Sometime over their tumultuous relationship, he’d come to see her as more than a friend, more than a companion, someone he relied on for basic needs.

Of course, now he needed to decide what to do about these feelings. Now that he knew he had them, how did he approach them?

Bottling them up seemed like the best idea. There was no way he could burden Spitfire with the truth. She already had so much on her plate, he refused to add to it. And even then, he had no way of knowing if she felt the same way about him. For all he knew, she still hated him.

He frowned. There was a problem in bottling up his feelings, though. They were already starting to affect his words and actions around Spitfire. During the fire, the few times he’d seen her, he remembered doing little things. He’d started calling her “Spits.” He’d taken opportunities to physically comfort her with a hoof on her shoulder.

He knew that he’d continue to do those little things. And with a mare as smart as Spitfire, she’d notice, and she’d say something. He would be unable to hide it from her then.

Maybe being up front was the best thing. Just get it out into the open and leave everything in her hooves.

That mere thought terrified him.

He had no idea how she’d react. Images of her kissing him, or killing him, flitted through his mind. Neither seemed like they would happen, but both seemed equally likely extremes.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Spitfire glanced at him, the sudden, violent movement drawing her attention. His eyes met hers and he nearly spilled his guts right there.

When he didn’t say anything, she turned away, going back to her own thoughts. If one little questioning look like that was all it took, he was doomed. He wanted to groan and put his head in his hooves, but doing so would only cause Spitfire to ask him what was wrong.

He was doomed, screwed, about to be annihilated. There was no way he was going to keep this a secret, it was impossible. One little look and he’d spill everything.

No, it was best to tempt fate and be straightforward. He’d bring it up tonight, when they were safe somewhere. Now was not the best time, trapped in a dark, stuffy smuggling compartment with police officers searching the airship.

Tonight, he would either live, or die, by Spitfire’s hooves. Either way, everything about their relationship would change.

“What’s wrong, Cloudbuilder?” Spitfire’s quiet voice broke the silence, making the stallion jump.

He looked over at her. She was looking at him with... concern? Was she concerned for him? He didn’t think he’d ever seen that particular emotion directed at him from her.

“I’m... fine,” he said quickly. He didn’t think having Spitfire asking about him was a good idea right then. He couldn’t trust his own mouth not to say something stupid.

“How about you? You doing okay?” he asked her. There, deflect the question and divert her attention to something else, something not him.

“Oh hell no, you aren’t pulling that move on me Clodface,” Spitfire snorted. “You’ve been twitching ever since we got in here and most of it is when you’re staring at me. Something’s up and you’re, at the very least, not going to lie to my face and deflect the question.”

Crud. That didn’t work. She was supposed to drop it. Instead, she’d done the opposite. He needed to think of something else, quickly.

“I’m just tired from today. That fire was so hot, it sapped all of my energy. And I’m just...” He trailed off for a moment. “Tired, I guess.” He tried to sound convincing.

Spitfire was giving him a deadpan stare, but then she turned away and spoke in a hesitant voice. “Well, whatever, if you don’t want to talk that’s fine,” she paused for a long moment before continuing. “I’d, like to thank you. For working through the fire, I mean. I shouldn’t have kept you out there so much, it was dangerous and foolish.”

“It’s nothing, Spitfire. I’m just happy to be helping you.”

The fiery mare turned back to look Cloudbuilder in the eyes. “Are you?”

He nodded. “I’ll be honest, I thought I was going to die today. But it doesn’t matter, because of all the good that I did. You helped with that, Spits.”

Spitfire turned away. “Well, it’s my fault you were pushed so close to the edge, if I hadn’t kept you outside all the time you wouldn’t have been in such a tight spot.”

Cloudbuilder lifted up a foreleg, placing his hoof on Spitfire’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. You may have pushed me, but I made the choice to stay out there.”

The mare shrugged off the hoof with a frown. “Why though? What’s so important to that you would do that?”

How was he going to answer this? She was practically leaving the door open for him to admit the truth. Yet he still didn’t want to bring it up just yet, not until they were safe. “It’s for the citizens of this city,” he said. “I’ve done a lot to disrupt the Harmony in Ravaalon. I need to make up for my part in things. But...” He chewed on his lower lip, thinking over what else to say. “But it’s also partly for you, Spits.

“I hurt you. I hurt you badly. It’s because of me that you are in a wheelchair. It’s my fault that you’re no longer the captain and in a position to be able to help ponies with all that power. I didn’t believe in you when I should have. So I owe you, much more than I can ever hope to repay. But I’m trying, and I’ll keep trying.”

Sweet Luna... He almost let everything spill right there. She was getting dangerously close to figuring it out anyway. He may not make it to tonight at this rate.

“You put your life on the line today, Cloudbuilder. I’m grateful that you did all you could,” Spitfire said, casting her eyes down at her hooves. “Even from the start I knew you were a better pony than you let on. You’ve done enough to repay what you’ve done, you don’t have to stick around anymore... If you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he said. “There’s still more I have to do.”

Spitfire gave the stallion a withering glance. “As much as your help has been appreciated, I can get around fine by myself now, Cloudbuilder. It’s not exactly the best feeling being pushed around in a wheelchair.”

“I can only imagine. But even if you don’t need me to push you around, I’ll still stay. I owe it to you.”

“Augh,” Spitfire groaned, feeling as though her argument was coming full circle, again. “Then tell me what’s bothering you! If you’re going to keep being my shadow at least give me the benefit of knowing what it’s thinking!”

He wanted to. He desperately wanted to. But he couldn’t, not here. “I can’t say, not right now, Spits. Tonight, when we’re safe, I’ll tell you.”

“What does that even—” Spitfire snapped her mouth shut, she wasn’t going to argue this, not so soon after her revelation. “Whatever, I’m going to get some fresh air.”

Spitfire shuffled forward and stood up as high as she could while reaching for the small latch on the door. She never did like small spaces anyway, and Cloudbuilder was making things exceptionally claustrophobic.

“What are you doing?” Cloudbuilder whispered fiercely. “You can’t go out there! We don’t know if it’s safe yet.” He reached out, grabbing onto her and trying to hold her back.

“Leggo!” Spitfire growled. She yanked forward, and only succeeded in pulling Cloudbuilder into her against and the door which cracked dangerously. Both of them lost their footing and collapsed in a tangle of limbs as the little door caved slightly.

They both struggled for a moment, but were unsuccessful in freeing themselves in the small space. Spitfire knocked her casted limb against the floor hard, causing her to wince.

“Ouch!”

“Stoppit!”

“I can’t!”

“No no no! Let me just— Mmmf!”

Spitfire threw a hoof against Cloudbuilder’s muzzle. “Shh!” she hissed. “Somepony’s coming!”

---

03:46 pm, Airship Cargo Hold

---

Inside the ship, a door swung open, flooding light into the ships cargo hold. A pair of stallions stepped in and proceeded to walk over to the centre of the hold.  

The old unicorn sighed, shoulders sagging, "That's been far an' above enough excitement fer one day." He scratched himself idly, "Do believe I may be gettin too old fer this nonsense."

Breeze, looked around the room. “Agreed, but now to the matter at hoof. Where is this secret storage of yours? We need to free spitfire and Cloud Builder.”

"Hold yer horses," The captain chuckled at some personal joke, "We're on our way there as we speak."

Breeze turned to the stallion, one eyebrow raised. “I’ve been meaning to ask, why did you set up that fake fruit distraction. Was it really necessary?”

"First rule'a misdirection: when folk think yer up ta somethin, give em something to find. A satisfied pony is a complacent pony." Rum plucked an orange from a crate and tossed it to the earth stallion.

The blue earth pony caught the orange and smiled at the captain. His smile slipped a little as he heard a distinct crack and a wall segment on the side of the hold swung open, depositing two ponies and a quantity of hay on the floor.

“By Celestia’s pink underpants!” Spitfire growled. “Get your hooves off of me!” The fiery mare gave Cloudbuilder a hefty shove, sending him tumbling across the floor in a spray of hay.

“Hey! It’s not my fault things were so cramped in there,” Cloudbuilder retorted.

Breeze burst out laughing at Spitfires cursing, still chuckling when choosing to step forward and offer Cloud Builder a hoof up. The captain casually flipped the lever back, concealing the wall panel, before closing the side of the false cargo box.

“Celestia’s pink underpants? Thats likely my favorite curse so far,” commented the earth stallion, still giggling.

"Miss, an' Mister, care ta enlighten us as to where we can be dropping you off now?" The unicorn asked, casually brushing dust from another box with his tail.

Spitfire blew off a bit of grass clinging to her nose and shot Breeze a glare before turning to the captain. “In the Administrative hex. On the quiet side of town, thank you.”

"Gladly," the airpony replied quickly, before biting his lip and glancing at the earth pony, "... I assume yer done coming up wi' hairbrained schemes at this point, yeah?" His left eye twitched.

Breeze grinned at the captain. “At the moment, yes. But if you want I can continue, I’m on a roll today.” He turned to orange pegasus and smiled, this time looking much less sly and more honest. “Spitfire, your comments may be funny, making me laugh, but know that I meant no harm.”

“We’ll take him from here, Captain.” Spitfire cut in, flashing the rugged stallion a smile. “Thank you for all your services today, you’ve most certainly saved many lives, and a lot of food.”

The unicorn seemed at a loss for words, bobbing his head quickly before making for the upper deck as quickly as was seemly.

Breeze nodded respectfully to Spitfire before turning to follow the unicorn out the room.

“Ah, where do you think you’re going, Breezie?” Spitfire called, halting the blue earth pony in his tracks. “We’ve still got business, unless you’ve changed your mind?”

The earth stallion turned back to the pegasus mare, a smile plastered on his face. “Yes, sorry about that, I didn’t mean to be so absentminded. Do you have anything else in mind, I can do to earn some more of your trust?”

Spitfire narrowed her eyes. “What’s my trust to you, anyway?”

Breeze stood still, smile never leaving his face. “I have already stated I want us to be allies, we have already established this, and you said you don’t trust me. Let me earn that trust. Your trust is honor and that is something worth earning.”

“But you have yet to tell me why you want to be my ally.” Spitfire said skeptically. “Aren’t you like, the brother of one of the Earth Pony council members? Why be my ally when the whole goal of the earth ponies is to get one of their own in charge? And don’t give me any of that ‘morally right’ bullcrap. What do you really want?”

Breeze lost his smile, turning concerned. “Let me make one thing clear about my connection with the council. I don’t agree with their methods or goals and thus I don’t agree with my brother. And why I really want you as an ally is because I think the council is tearing this city apart and I want to stop that from happening. But doing that will be hard, likely impossible, without you.” The earth pony looked at the orange pegasus with tense eyes. “I want to save as many lives as I can, because it’s what I want to do, so if you don’t consider my 'Morally Right' argument as legit, then let me prove it.”

Cloudbuilder narrowed his eyes at Breeze. He still didn’t trust this pony. He talked a lot, and had at least helped them get out of the Hex, but it could all just be a ploy. Nopony knew anything about Breeze, he could just be leading them into a trap. The Earth Pony Council would love to get rid of Spitfire.

Spitfire contemplated the stallion’s words. They were the same he’d said a few hours ago in the middle of all the fire. Whatever story this fellow was spouting, he clearly had some other agenda he was keeping hidden.

She snorted indecisively. Either he was telling the truth, and really wanted to help; or he was planning to bring her down once he got integrated. The question was, were the risks worth it?

“Fine,” Spitfire finally concluded. “Meet me at the PUR, ten a.m. sharp, tomorrow. We’ll discuss this further then.”

The earth pony simply nodded with a wide smile. “Very well, I’ll try not to be late.”

---

04:15 p.m. Administration Hex, Abandoned Field

---

Engines were cut to idle a hundred strides from their destination, the vessel gliding in the remainder a quiet as an owl… albeit an owl with grunting ponies running around on its back and hissing orders to adjust pitch and tilt. As the ship came even with the empty lot, ropes lowered and half a dozen ponies slid down, driving pitons into the ground with quick strokes. The ropes groaned as they stretched taut, but held strong.

Crewmates moved on socked hooves, winching the vessel down until it was only a couple of ponylengths above the ground. Others pulled out lengths of lumber and large sheets of canvas. Within fifteen minutes there was a large tent where before an airship had hovered. At least… that's what it looked like from the outside.

The captain brushed an invisible speck of dust off a clearly dirty uniform. "Well, here ye be, Mares and Colts, safe an' sound on solid ground." The unicorn seemed to have forgotten the city stood several hundred strides above 'ground'.

Cloudbuilder faced the captain. “Thanks for the ride, Captain Runner. We’d have had a lot of trouble getting out of there without you.”

Mirror plucked a stray straw from the blue pegasus's mane. "Yeah, what he said, although if you're going to keep practicing equine trafficking you might want to find a more ergonomic way to do it."

“Not the most comfortable,” Spitfire agreed, shooting a look at Cloudbuilder.

The pale pegasus pony paused, putting together the gander-er and her subject object of focus. A slow smile slid across her face, and remained in place as she paced out into the surrounding open space; She couldn't wait to be out of this place. Turning, she waved to everypony before flying off.

The blue earth stallion of the group casually smiled at Spitfire. “I hope to see you tomorrow, until then watch yourselves. Cloud Builder, my friend, that goes for you too.” The pony turned to the captain with a very different smile. “Captain Moron, your next destination is my drop off point.”

The unicorn rolled his eyes skyward, "Lady o' the Sun, is this charred ash of a day ever apt to end?" Turning his attention back to more down to earth matters, he nodded at the earth stallion, "Aye, let's get ye bundled off then, young master."

Cloudbuilder reared up, placing his forehooves on the handles to Spitfire’s wheelchair. “Come on, Spits. We both need some food, and sleep.”

"You need sleep, I need a quiet space to think." the chairbound mare snapped, painfully aware she hadn't done anything physically taxing, though she did feel exhausted.

“Either way, we’re not going back to the hospital tonight. I don’t feel like getting chewed out by Poppy. Soarin’ offered us a place at the PUR. We should take him up on that.”

“Hold on a moment,” Spitfire said, waving a hoof. “Mirror, where did you go? Blast it! I’m going to burn this chair the first chance I get!”

“She left already, Spits,” Cloudbuilder told her.

“Ugh, fine. Let’s go then,” Spitfire grumbled.

Giving a final thanks to Rum Runner and Breeze Tongue, Cloudbuilder steered the wheelchair down the gangplank and off the ship. It felt good, knowing that very soon he’d either be sleeping peacefully, or Spitfire will have killed him after his confession.

---

Brought to you by the aid, industry, and magic of Sasha Nein, Lightning Eyes, and notMurphy

Timestamp:
PUR Headquarters basement. 10:00 pm, July 29

---

Cloudbuilder relaxed in his cot. Soarin’ had been more than nice to both him and Spitfire. When they had shown up at the headquarters of the PUR, he had expected to be shoved into some dorm room. Instead, they had a quiet room down in the basement to themselves.

He thought it was going to be a hassle getting Spitfire down the steps, but before he could say a word she all but jumped out of her chair and glided down the stairs. Cloudbuilder didn’t say anything about it though, deciding that carrying the chair down was enough of a problem.

The electricity had been reinstated already, even this close to the decimated town hall. He was thankful, the hallways were a maze, having been turned into temporary storage for all the goods the PUR had begun collecting. Still, at least it was dry, and safe; more than they’d had in a good while.

He barely noticed any of this, he was too busy being worried over what he had promised Spitfire. Cloudbuilder was debating whether or not to let the issue slide unless she said something, casting covert glances at the reclining mare all the while.

Spitfire didn’t seem interested in asking him anything. Her eyes were closed and she was splayed out over her own cot. She seemed rather peaceful right now, her breathing was even and there wasn’t a frown on her face. It was nice to see her without one now and again.

Yet Cloudbuilder was immensely worried. What in Tartarus is Spitfire going to do to me if — No, when! — I tell her? He fully expected her to kill him.

There she was, in all her beautiful, exhausted glory. He knew that she knew that he had something to say, but she was stubbornly quiet. Unless she brought up the topic, he’d be forced to do it himself, which was just what he was trying to avoid.

Minutes passed, yet Spitfire remained silent. He bit his bottom lip. Bringing up this subject was the last thing he wanted to do, but it had to be done. He had promised her.

“Spitfire,” he said. “I promised to tell you what was bothering me...”

The mare turned her head to look at Cloudbuilder, but instead of speaking she waited for the stallion to speak.

Cloudbuilder sighed. This was exactly what he didn’t want to do. He didn’t want to arouse Spitfire’s curiosity. Yet he had,

“Dammit,” he swore quietly. "Listen, Spitfire, this is very... difficult for me to say.” He took in a deep breath, holding it for several long moments before letting it all out in a whoosh of air.

He pawed the ground, pushing a little piece of dirt along. “I’ve done some thinking lately. About you and me, and what’s been going on. And I’ve come to a conclusion.”

He took in a deep breath, letting it out in a whoosh of air. He was only trying to buy some time for himself. “I... I have feelings for you, Spitfire. Romantic feelings."

Spitfire opened her mouth, but Cloudbuilder rushed on quickly, “Please, wait until I finish, this is hard enough already. I... I’ve always looked up to you, ever since you were the Captain of the Wonderbolts. Those feelings often manifested as a crush. But this is more than that. I don’t want to call it love, because I’m not sure it is that. But it’s more than friendship, I’m sure of that much.

“I don’t want to tell you this, because the last thing you need is something else on your plate. But I can’t keep it a secret, either. I’d rather tell you now, rather than blurt it out at some inopportune moment.”

He looked up, his eyes catching Spitfire’s. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. All he could do was wait for her reaction to his confession. “If you... If you want me to go away, I will. I’ll find somewhere to go, something to do.”

She said nothing for a long time, seemingly content to stare at the ceiling instead of responding to his confession. He glanced up where she was staring. It wasn’t much. Aged beams held up a planked floor to the room above. There were a few cobwebs, but things were surprisingly clean. He glanced back down at Spitfire, she was still staring up at, apparently, nothing.

Cloudbuilder tapped out a beat on his bunk as he glanced around the room. Unlike the hallway outside, it was fairly empty. There was a large basin of water, two buckets, their cots and a small table squirreled away in the corner of the room. The lighting wasn’t the best, but the magitech for them was little more than glowing orbs which took a rather copious amounts of magic to maintain.

Finally, he could take the silence no more. “You got anything to say to that?” he queried.

Spitfire turned to the confused stallion with a snort. “What? You thought this would be a shock to me?” She rolled her eyes as she continued, “That I would pummel you into the ground? Or maybe confess my own burning feelings for you?”

The mare slowly angled herself upright on her cot, giving Cloudbuilder a deadpan stare. “You give yourself too much credit Cloudbuilder. While I do appreciate all you did during the fire, and I apologize for treating you poorly, I just don’t have the same feelings for you.

“So,” she continued. “I can’t stop you or your feelings. If you intend to stick around me that’s fine; I won’t tell anypony else about what you’ve said, either. I’m not going to force you to do anything.” Spitfire shrugged, shaking off some of the tension. “Honestly, I don’t think you’ve got anywhere to go, or anything to do that won’t get you in trouble. But, if you’re going to stay, you need to stay focused. I’m not a safe mare to be around.” Spitfire laughed quietly. “I never was, either.”

“Spitfire,” Cloudbuilder sputtered. He coughed a few times before taking a moment to compose himself. “You’re right in that I have nowhere else to go. I’m wanted by too many ponies in this city. But right now, I care about you. You told me this morning, on the train, that you need me. I want to be there for you, in whatever capacity you need.” He paused for a moment. “And I don’t care if you’re not safe to be around. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly have the best luck, either.”

The fiery mare closed her eyes and let out a long breath. “Listen, I’m sorry if this sounds blunt, but I’ve spent time around a lot of stallions, and many of them have tried sought my hoof. However, the attraction has never been mutual.”

Spitfire watched Cloudbuilder carefully as she continued. “I’m not angry that you feel this attraction towards me. Actually, I’m rather used to being an object.”

Cloudbuilder’s face went through a myriad of expressions as she spoke. Hope, sadness, shock, even anger all flashed across. He never settled on one expression for too long.

“I don’t expe—” Cloudbuilder started to say, before a raised hoof from Spitfire cut him off.

“Just,” Spitfire cut in, “don’t expect me to reciprocate any of your feelings.”

Spitfire paused, using the hoof she had just used to cut off the stallion to rub her shoulder while she looked away from Cloudbuilder. “I... I’ve had to deal with a lot of advances, being an ex wonderbolt and all. I’m sorry. Everypony has got to realize, at some point, there is a mare under this skin. One who has her own feelings and agendas, no matter how inconvenient it may be to them. Many times it turns out being something they don’t want when there’s more than just that iconic figure they all know.”

Cloudbuilder opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to think of just how to say what he wanted to get out. “The last thing I see you as is an object, Spits,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. “That mare that I dreamed about all those years? The one that I looked up to? Your so-called ‘iconic figure’? She died for me that night we first met, on the rooftop. You destroyed everything I thought I knew about you. When I look at you, I don’t see that pony. I see a beautiful, strong-willed mare. I see a pony that I owe more than I can ever repay. But I don’t have feelings for you over some debt. I like you because of who you are, the Spitfire I’ve come to know now.” The longer he spoke, the more confident his voice became.

The brightly colored mare turned back to face her pegasus companion. “I am not going to fall into your hooves, Cloudbuilder. When I said 'need', it was for reasons very different from what you might be hoping for, so put any of those notions aside. It has been many, many years since I’ve had any interest in pursuing another stallion; and in all honesty you are a little young, Cloudbuilder.”

“I didn't expect you to return my feelings," Cloudbuilder said. "Hell, I sort of expected you to kick me out. But, I went ahead and told you anyway because you deserve to know it. I can't, and won't, keep secrets, not from from you, Spitfire. I..." He hesitated, feeling a sense of doom settling in the room. "I don't want this to change what we currently have between us, but I know it will, and I can accept that."

He sighed, unwilling to let silence descend between them. “By Luna’s shiny flanks... Nothing’s ever easy, is it?” He let out a weak chuckle, laying back on the cot but still looking over at Spitfire. “I can’t even do something like this right.”

Shaking his head, he continued. “I can’t change how I feel about you. Now that I’m aware of it, I can’t stop thinking about it... But I know one thing that won’t change. For as long as you’ll have me, I’ll be by your side, helping you in whatever way you need.”

“Cloudbuilder,” Spitfire cut in, laying back down on her cot. “You better quit while you’re ahead.”

“Sorry,” he apologized. She was obviously done talking. He lay on his cot, staring up at the ceiling. This conversation had gone simultaneously better, and worse, than he’d imagined. She hadn’t killed him or sent him away, which was good. At the same time, there was a small part of him that had wanted her to confess her own love to him. To toss her forelegs around his neck and kiss him.

He breathed in deep, letting it out slowly. To be honest, it actually stung a bit, how easily she had just brushed him, and his affections away. Little platitudes about other stallions confessing to her? About how she was used to being treated as an item? It seemed to him like her view was warped. She wasn’t even going to give him a chance!

Yet, she was still willing to keep him around. This gave him a chance to prove himself to her. Maybe if he worked harder, she’d see him for who he really was, she’d accept him. She’d probably never love him, but maybe she’d at least accept him.

---

Spitfire lay silent, eyes held shut, hoping Cloudbuilder couldn’t sense the thoughts and feelings roiling through her. The stallion’s confession of his love for her had come as a shock, and now memories of their last few weeks together were boiling to the top.

It all made sense now, why he was so adamant about staying around; she called complete bull on him offering to leave. There was nothing else for the stallion at this point, and with his affection towards her there was no reason for him to find something on his own. Even if he hadn’t developed feelings, she didn’t figure he would leave anytime soon anyway.

Yet, hearing him say those words... She wasn’t sure how to respond. She felt even more guilty for being so hard on him, for sure. But she was also confused, uncertain and probably even a little affronted. After all he had put her through he had the audacity to say he cared for her? If he thought his confession would make things all okay, he was wrong. When she said she needed him, it was only because she’d be grounded and wasn’t ready to fight her own physical battles yet.

But no, he had just said that his persona of her had been shattered when they met. Only in the last few weeks had he rebuilt his perception of her, and it was seemingly something he really liked. That was what confused her. He had seen her at her worst, and yet even through all of that he still found something to like... or even...

’Augh! This is too confusing!’ Spitfire rolled over on her bed and opened her eyes to stare at the wall.

Romantic feelings? He hadn’t said love, which was good. It was a strong word, possibly too strong. She couldn’t deny she felt something in return, after all he’d seen her go through, she’d done something to make him take interest. It made a little something bloom inside her. But, if she even tried to focus on that tiny wisp, it was ripped away in a torrent of horrible memories.

There wasn’t much in particular she remembered with much clarity. It had only been two days, at most, since she’d gotten out of that hellish hole. She was still pulling her sanity back together, it was still too soon for Cloudbuilder to be opening up like this. It was too much, especially with the pain of the last few weeks being so fresh.

Spitfire continued to wrestle with her unruly emotions. Cloudbuilder had long since stopped his fidgeting before she drifted off into a restless sleep.

---

Location: Unknown
Time: Unknown

---

Spitfire was being hauled through the damp, torch lit hallways of Celestia knew where. She knew what for though, they were taking her to that pegasus again. The stench of unwashed pony, sick and various other excrements filled her nostrils, but she hardly registered them. She hardly registered anything.

All she could feel was the terror. There was pain coming, pain always came when she was brought down this hallway. That rhinosaurus of a pegasus was always waiting. Sometimes that authoritative pony was there, to watch; but usually he wasn’t. She hoped he was though, he always kept that rhino from hurting her too much.

She struggled limply, but no matter how much she tried, it never felt like enough. The ponies carrying her felt like vices which sapped her strength. Her terror mounted as they turned the corner and the door to the bad room came into view. She continued to struggle, but she felt like she was trying to move through molasses. Somehow, her captors moved with a frightening ease that scared her even more.

The door opened, but she couldn’t see in. Her vision was hazy and she was frantically trying to find a way to break free. Somehow she managed to snag the doorframe as they walked in, but they pulled her off as easily as one would lift a baby kitten out of its box. She didn’t understand, she knew she wasn’t that strong, but it felt as though her very limbs were betraying her.

Before she knew what was even happening, she was strapped to a table. The ponies carrying her had disappeared, but her cloudy vision returned with sharp clarity as the monstrous pony stepped into her view. He was carrying some sort of contraption, she couldn’t make out what it was, but she didn’t need to guess what he was going to use it for, or on.

Spitfire tried to scream, or at least she thought she did, but nothing came out. She strained against the buckles holding her to the table. Miraculously, her strength had returned, but it wasn’t enough. There was nothing the mare could do but watch as the large pony descended upon her with a ferocious grin and a cackle. She squirmed and screamed as he lowered his tool to her belly, but there was nothing she could do as it pushed slowly and then—

Spitfire awoke with a violent jerk, upsetting her flimsy cot which promptly spilled her on the floor as it collapsed. It was dark, and she could still feel the memory of something being pressed to her middle. Shaking uncontrollably, she reached down with a trembling hoof and felt her coat. It was unmarred, it had only been a dream.

Tears sprang to her eyes, the terror still fresh in her mind. Through blurry vision she tried to pick out shapes in the dark, but there was nothing. Her fear mounted as she finally spotted a faint light from underneath a door. A dry sob escaped her as she backpedaled.

She was back! Her escape had just been a dream! Spitfire scrambled backwards further and fell over something, she couldn’t tell what, before she hit the wall. Her world closed in as she remembered with stark clarity that the bright lights, the smell of fresh air and the grateful looks of ponies after the fire had all been a lie.

Pulling her limbs close she began to breath heavily. Unable to stop the tears as she began fantasizing about what other terrible things were in store for her. What if she hallucinated again... Was she going mad? Would she be able to tell anything apart?

Cloudbuilder jolted awake at the sound of something crashing to the ground. It took a moment for his surroundings to reassert themselves: He was in the basement of the PUR, sleeping on a cot.

In the dim light that slipped under the door, he tried to figure out what had woken him up. A quick sob drew his attention to his companion. The dark outline of a pony clambered across the floor, before hitting the wall and leaning against it.

He narrowed his eyes in concern. “Spitfire?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

No discernable response greeted his query, but seconds later another sob reached his ears. Then another. He quickly rose in alarm, almost collapsing his own cot in the process. He shuffled quickly to the door, tripping over what felt like saddlebags as he did... I just needed to get some light in here!

Opening the door, he let the light from the hallway spill into the room. His cot was still standing, the blankets they had been provided tossed around. Spitfire’s cot, however, was knocked over, its pillow and blankets strewn about. The crash must have been what woke him up.

He glanced around, Spitfire herself was missing. He’d seen a pony shape scramble across the floor, but he would have noticed if the door had been opened. ’She’s still got to be in here somewhere.’ A small flutter of panic rose up in his chest. ’Where did she go?’

The soft sounds of sobbing silenced the moment after he had flung the door open. His eyes swept the room frantically for the missing mare. At first glance, he saw nothing. Maybe she had exited earlier and that was some other pony in the room? No, wait, there she was, hidden in the shadows of the far wall!

Her body was mostly hidden from view, though from what little he could see, it looked like she curled up into a ball. Her injured leg with it’s white cast stood out more so than the rest of her body, but it seemed fine. What worried him most was the look in her eyes, he could see them from here, reflecting the faint light of the hallway. She looked terrified, the whites very visible from her dark background.

Cautiously he approached the mare. “Spitfire? What’s wrong?” He didn’t know what she was going through right then, and the last thing he wanted to do was startle her. Who knew what she’d do.

The pony cringed and said nothing, but she didn’t take her eyes off of him. It was then he noticed that her eyes and muzzle were wet. She was still heaving quiet sobs and trembling, unable to hold them in. With every movement he made, she shrank into herself a little more.

“Hey,” he said, trying to put on his best, most soothing voice. “It’s okay...” The way her eyes latched on to him as she shrank back, flinching at his every move; she was remembering something. He knew it must be from back in the tunnels to get a reaction like this out of the strong mare.

“Spitfire,” he said. “It’s okay. Nopony’s going to hurt you. You’re safe, Spitfire.” He had absolutely no idea what to do or say. All he could hope was that she’d snap out of whatever trance she was in without hurting him, or herself. Especially herself.

The mare’s eyes darted to the door, then back at him. It would have taken a very dumb pony indeed to not see the emotions playing across her face. Fear, uncertainty, disbelief, anger... But as he continued to stand there stiffly, something else began to take over. Relief.

Cloudbuilder moved to the side, providing Spitfire clear access to the door. He made no move towards either it or her. He prayed that she didn’t make a break for the door, as he’d have to stop her, and that would only make things worse. But in her current state, she couldn’t be running around. If the door provided her relief, then he’d wait and see what happened.

He watched as her eyes began roaming around the room, taking what the dim light allowed. After a moment her breathing began to slow and even out. She finally buried her face in her hooves. He almost missed her whisper. “Are we really out?”

It took him a moment to decipher what she was referring to. “Yes, Spitfire. We’re gone from those Celestia-forsaken tunnels. We’re safe now.”

The mare didn’t raise her head. After a moment her trembling started again and she began sobbing uncontrollably. Still not entirely sure on what to do, Cloudbuilder restarted his slow approach towards her. “It’s over,” he said. “We’re gone from there and safe.”

As soon as he stopped in front of her, the mare reached up and threw her hooves around him in a vice-like hug, pulling him down onto his knees as she buried her face in his shoulder.

He faltered for a moment, freezing up, before sitting down as comfortably as he could without disturbing her, and putting his forelegs around her. He could feel his neck becoming damp, but he didn’t care.

“It’s okay,” he said.

“T-that p-pegas-sus was h-h-horrible! And... a-and terrifying!” Spitfire half whispered, half choked, into his coat. “I-I don’t... Understand.”

He frowned. Obviously, he’d seen the damage caused to her during her stay in the tunnels. But he’d never actually quite figured out what had happened to her, or more accurately, how she’d gotten in that state. Torture was obvious, but the specifics eluded him. It seemed that there was a specific pegasus who had done most of the damage.

He held her tighter, closer. If she drew some measure of comfort from his presence, then he would give her anything she needed. He would be the anchor that held her in place, securing her. “That pegasus can’t hurt you anymore, Spitfire.”

Eventually Spitfire quieted and relaxed in his grip. Cloudbuilder didn’t know how long they sat there, but he stoically refused to move even as his limbs threatened to cramp up. It wasn’t until the first sounds of life crept their way through the ceiling and in through the door that Spitfire pulled herself away with a loud inhale and sniffle.

“Thanks,” Spitfire whispered shakily. She tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “I’m going to go find a bathroom.” She got up and moved carefully exited the room, favoring her injured leg.

Cloudbuilder watched her leave, unsure of what he should do. She seemed like she was getting back to her old self, but after witnessing her breakdown, he wasn’t too sure. Somepony as strong as her wasn’t meant to break down like that.

For there to be residual trauma after an ordeal like what she went through was to be expected. But for it to come to this? Breaking down in the middle of the night? That he hadn’t expected.

Too many ponies looked up to Spitfire for them to know that she was fragile. She needed to be strong. Now he had another mission in taking care of her: protecting her image. He needed to make sure that, at least around others, she maintained her strong facade. When they were alone at night, he’d comfort her in whatever way she needed, what they could never do around anypony else.

Protecting Spitfire, in whatever way she needed, was paramount. He would do whatever it took to keep her safe. As her fiery tail vanished around the doorframe, he made a solemn promise to not fail her again.

---

Spitfire flinched as she splashed cold water onto her face and rubbed it in. She stared at her haggard reflection in the mirror, her mind blank and body numb. She tried not to think about her nightmare; it probably wasn’t a good idea to bottle her fears up, but she couldn’t bring herself to delve into what had been done to her. There would be a time, and a place, later.

Later... She knew she couldn’t put it off forever, or that she should. It would end up being just like one of those stories Mirror liked to quote all the feathering time. Spitfire chuckled to herself as she imagined what Mirror would mutter to herself if she saw this situation. ’typical protagonist shortcoming, it’ll come back to haunt them in the final battle for sure.’ Or something like that.

Spitfire shut the faucet off with a sigh and turned to dry herself with a nearby towel. There might not be anything she could do about dreams or nightmares, but she could certainly keep control of herself in the waking world. Right now, she needed to pony up for the day. This was real, she wasn’t in some dungeon, waiting in terror for another session of beating or worse.

She could deal with this, with ponies. Today she would see what she could do to help Soarin’ while she planned her next move. Yes, helping other ponies would do wonders for her, it was her job. After all, she’d made a promise.

July 29, 07:01 p.m. Sunset

---

Inside the warehouse a slight smokey stench lingered, matching the grey and black inside of the building.

“Is the cart loaded and latched?” A light red unicorn with charcoal black hair and emerald green eyes stood in front of another unicorn.

The green unicorn stallion opposite her levitated a pencil, making notes as he replied. “Yes, our client has all that he requested, I can list it out if you want. That's a whole lot of beets.”

The red unicorn raised her hoof, warding off the suggestion. “No, that isn’t necessary; I trust you enough to get this order right." She paused, catching the stallion's attention, "But if my favorite client isn’t happy with the quality of this order...” The mare put down her hoof and glared at the unicorn, a smile creeping across her face. “I will do terrible things and enjoy it delightfully so.”

The green unicorn turned pale. “Well I– I expect no less from you, Miss Carna-” The unicorn stopped and instantly rephrased his words, narrowly avoiding a second intense glare. “... Miss Trader. Good luck with your delivery and business”

“Watch your back Smoke Stack, or I might be removing it.” The female unicorn commented, before turning around and stepping inside of a small carriage. Sticking her head outside the window, the red mare called to the drivers at the front of the carriage.

“Lets get going!” Her hoof rapped against the windowsill.

Once Carnage yelled, the large warehouse doors groaned open. As the doors swung wide, a whorl of air swept the building, the new air still redolent of burnt farm.

Pulling her head back into the carriage, Carnage shut the window and proceeded to bend down, retrieving a white notepad hidden under her seat. At first glance, the pages appeared blank; but, to a trained eye there was much more to see. She shut the curtains covering up the only window into the carriage, leaving the room in darkness. She turned her focus onto her horn, a light blue light illuminated the inside of the carriage. In the blue light, the notebook had changed, revealing white words and numbers. Trader Carnage’s secret delivery schedule and list.

After a few minutes of writing and recording, Carnage placed the notebook back under her seat and turned off the light from her horn. She lay back on her seat, a smile on her face. She was happy with her latest payment from this client, 4000 bits was always welcomed into her pockets. Her smile then proceeded to shrink and entirely stop, before becoming a concerned look. Considering how the city’s food supply was almost entirely burned down, food is going to be in higher demand than ever. She needed a place to get food from, so she could import it and sell it off for a major profit. She proceeded to shake her head, first thing is first, her delivery had to be completed. She would think of the food another time.

---

07:30 pm, Casino Family Compound

---

The stench of smoke and ash hung heavy in the air, making every breath difficult and distasteful. The sky above was a flaming orange and violet shade, Celestia’s sun setting in the distance.

Four stocky earth ponies, harnesses tied around their chests and backs. The group was walking up a brown driveway, towards a large brown brick building. When they finally reached their destination the stopped and breathed heavily. The cargo they were carrying was a small Carriage with a larger cart attached behind it.

The carriage door swung open, allowing for a mare to step out into the dying sunlight. The mares light red coat matched the light red of the sky above, her green eyes looking up at the building. She turned to the drivers and nodded her head in thanks and complimented them on their work.

“Sit and rest, I expect to be back soon. If I don’t send word in forty minutes, you know what you must do.”

After receiving nods from her drivers, Carnage walked up to the building and entered through a glass door. She entered an office environment with a mare seated behind a desk. Must be the secretary, thought the red unicorn. She walked up to the pony, who looked overly cheerful and chimed an immediate greeting. The newly entered red unicorn chose to be blunt.

“I’m Black Traders Carnage, I have a meeting with Montague Carlos.”

The Mare looked up at the unicorn, then back down at her desk, pulling a scroll out from a cubby and running a hoof down it. Carnage could see the earth pony's lips moving '… Carnage, red fur, black mane… business purposes...'

The secretary nodded at Carnage, "Right you are, ms. Trader." She paused, gears turning, "Um, have you been to Monty's office b'fore?"

The red mare shook her head. “No, this is a first for me. Can you get me a map or something?”

The earth pony nodded quickly, "Sure, we got a mook just sitting around not doing nothing. Gimme half a shake," She grinned, before turning her head to face down a nearby hallway.

"Yo, Warrant! Get your worthless flank out here, got a job not even you can screw up!" She bellowed, obviously enjoying herself.

Carnage grinned, this wasn’t what she had expected from the secretary, but it was certainly entertaining.

The stallion who responded to the call looked like nothing so much as a mobile brick of muscle, though it was hard to tell if he was frowning, or if his face normally looked like that. "What? Stella, you're gonna have to learn to be a bit more respectful one'a these da…" 'Warrant' noticed they had company and promptly shut up.

The mare rolled her eyes conspiratorially at Carnage. "Yeah, you're going to have to wait on that. This is Ms. Trader, and she is here to see Monty." She paused meaningfully, "About 'trade goods'."

Anything Warrant was about to say died on his tongue. Instead he bobbed his head and most of his barrel repeatedly as he nodded at the unicorn. "Sure, uh, Ma'am." That said, he began trotting for the stairs, obviously torn between not wanting to leave the guest behind and not wanting to be close enough to be spoken to.

Carnage followed the stallion, smirking at the desk mare, Stella and commenting. “Stallions. Am I right?”
"Pssht, eggxactly."

Carnage trotted past Stella, the smirk remaining on her muzzle. She started following the wide stallion, she also couldn’t help but notice the hallway. It looked very high class, paintings hung on the wall, every now and again flowers hung from the wall and chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

---

Warrant rested his hoof on the door for a moment, catching his breath. "And here we *huff* are, Mi– uh, Ma'am. The office of Montague Carlos de la Cassino."

“Thank you...uh Warrant I believe it was.” Carnage stood beside the stallion, she proceeded to give him a gold bit as a thanks for his help. “You have a nice day, Warrant.”

Warrant stared at the round yellow object for a moment before secreting it on his person and nod/bowing. "Uh, yeah, you too." Not quite sure what the protocol was, the stallion backed the first few strides before turning and walking as quickly as he probably imagined was dignified.

The doorknob glowed a faint blue as it turned and the door swung inward. "Please come in." A mild voice called.

Carnage entered the doorway and felt the door shut behind her. She saw the room was a reasonably sized office, at the end of which was a large mahogany desk. Carnage saw a stallion standing and looking outside the large window of the room. Carnage stepped closer and bowed respectfully, this was necessary since he was among her most favorable of customers.

The blue unicorn's eyes flicked over the red mare quickly, and he nodded. "Carnage. You've got my receipts, I trust?"

Carnage stood back up. “Hi Monty, I have your order fully delivered. I have your receipt right here.” She stepped up to the desk and placed a white piece of paper, which was filled with writing and numbers. “Now was there any other orders you wanted from my business?” She subtly noticed that the office here also had a high class theme to it, but not like in the corridor. It looked more expensive and fancier, likely a badge of the stallions well earned position.

Monty smiled thinly. "No, I'm afraid I am going to be a little 'tapped out' for a short while." He chuckled at some private joke, "Though I expect business to be booming quite soon." Verdigris eyes sparkled with an inner light.

He frowned, considering something, before he spoke again. "Do you mind if I cast a non-invasive spell?" One eyebrow raised slightly, acknowledging the breach of formal protocol. It was simply not done to use anything other than telekinesis in a business meeting. Too often such things could lead to very unfortunate misunderstandings.

The red mare raised an uncertain eyebrow in return.“May I ask why?”

The blue stallion smiled a bit more genuinely, though it still didn't reach his eyes. "Have I ever told you about my talent? I … am a very good judge of odds." The grin deepened.

Carnage grinned, and giggled. “Remind me never to challenge you to a game of poker.”

"Hey, the House always wins." An expression which, in Roamin, graced the doorway of every gambling establishment owned by the Cassino family. Shame most citizens of Equestrian didn't know the language.

Carnage nodded at the stallion. She knew that he had full knowledge that abusing her would be terrible idea. “You may cast what you wish.” She remained skeptical and intently watched the unicorn.

The stallion rolled his eyes, smiling. There was a brief flash of pale blue light, and his eyes almost seemed to glow the same copper hue as his mane for the shortest of moments. Monty broke out into another grin, chuckling. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He nodded to himself, turning toward his desk.

His magic enveloped several file folders, spilling them open where Carnage could easily see their contents. Shipping manifests, dry goods orders, several holding companies whose names Carnage couldn't place, and a few she knew for a fact were fronts. The little tally in the back of her mind kept adding numbers, and the numbers were coming in pretty high. Foodstuffs, all kinds of… a memory of smoke drifted to the forefront.

Carnage grinned at Monty. “You keep proving yourself a genius my friend.”

"I never claimed to be clever, I just know how to play the odds." He smiled, though there seemed to be a shadow behind it this time. "Thing is, I may have managed to land a jackpot earlier than is convenient for me." His eyes drifted to the window, which had an excellent view of the Agricultural Hex.

"I haven't even added up the totals yet, but I believe I may be sitting on a month's food supply for the entire city. Now I have to keep track of all of that, keep it separate, hidden, and yet find ways of getting it where it needs to go… after I've gotten my cut as a 'concerned citizen'."

He placed a hoof on the windowpane. "My old man, I told him something like this was gonna happen." He shook his head, eyes locked on the distant horizon. "Damn codger laughed at me." The blue pony's head turned around so quickly Carnage briefly wondered if he had broken it. "The gray manes, they're too slow. The city is changing, everything is changing, and the dinosaurs don't wanna get out of the way."

"I know you've had problems lately, what with the shortages and rationing even before this 'ag fire'." They both knew what came next, but a business proposal was a ritual with certain traditions. "Trader. I got boxes an bales, bushels, bags, and beets more than I know what to do with. You move stuff, you find people who need stuff. I could use a mare with your talents." He raised a hoof as he drew in another breath.

"Now I'm not asking you to 'bend the knee' or any of that garbage, and I certainly ain't asking you to give up your own operation – your experience working on your own is what makes you valuable to me – what I'm saying is, I need to set up a shop moving bootleg vegs, and I can't think of a better consultant than you. Think about it, but I think you'll see that this would be a mutually beneficial business arrangement."

Carnages grin had disappeared and was replaced with a look of uncertain concern. “I appreciate the offer, Monty, but I need time to think this through, I can give you my reply in two days. Though I must ask, do you have a solution when the supplies run out.”

"Two things," Monty replied, clearly relishing the question, "first off, I said I want to set up shop, that don't mean I want to spend my life as a grocer, this is an opening to move into deeper markets." He tilted his head one way and then back the other, "That said, yeah, I've got an idea or two… if the current conflict manages to keep getting worse without nobody doing nothing to keep stuff running." He frowned the frown of world weary despair for politics, the expression that voiced 'what can you do?', though the sparkle was back in his eye even as he sighed.

"See, the thing is… money is, obviously, a good thing. But money by itself, it don't do a damn thing, except lay there. Some guys, they think just having a lot of cash'll make you a player. I love those guys, don't get me wrong, they keep my family fed…" he grined, "And I have a. Very. Big. Family. But you take a mook, give him money, and then wait until he's spent it, and you have a mook again."

"That is because he doesn't know what to buy, and because it would never occur to him to do ponies favors." The smirk turned wry. "Some folk laugh when I say I'm a big fan of the people, but it's true. Genuine trust, good opinions, those are things money can't buy you," The grin became nearly a leer, "...is what they'll tell you, that just means you're talking to a mook. Money can most definitely buy you credibility and goodwill, just look at Rockyfeller, Carn-eggy, and old Howard Huge, all'a them were crooks… 'Honest Businessmen' who did more harm to ponies than I'll ever do. But folk don't remember that. They remember concert halls, museums, foundations, they remember STUFF that has those old crooks's names writ large on 'em."

He shook his head, chuckling. "You ask me what I'm going to do when the hay wagon is empty. I'll tell you what I'm going to do, I'm going to run this town, from the bottom up." He smiled again. "You go ahead and take your thirty-seven hours, think it over, weigh your odds, and then join me on the ground floor of the revolution that's actually gonna succeed on this flying rock."

Carnage held a thoughtful look on her face, after a few minutes she smiled. “You know what, there’s no need to give me more time.” She raised her hoof for a formal shake, “I’ll accept your business offer.”

He heartily returned the shake, "I am very pleased to hear that."

“Then lets discuss the finer details of our agreement, I have a number of warehouses for storage purposes.”

Monty nodded, "Weeell, I may have a better stock on my stock than I said, earlier, so here's the stuff that will last for months… and here's the stuff that won't last two weeks outside of a freezer." The pair of business ponies had begun long winded negotiations and discussions, Carnage’s horn lit up with an aura, closing the window curtain, blocking any prying eyes.

---

Made in collaboration with notMurphy

Timestamp:
Mid-morning, July 30th, Fire Day +1

Mirage looked down the alley she was standing in. There were few ponies walking the streets. After the big fire yesterday, she couldn’t blame everypony for staying home. Sure, the fire had been taken care of by a few poor saps, but the already high tension in the city was now at atmospheric levels.

Of course, this was both good and bad. Mirage had no idea who set the fire, because it was surely intentional, but it would hopefully draw attention away from the PRF. She didn’t know specifics, but Sunny had hinted that they had plans in motion, plans that would take a little time to come to fruition. The less eyes on them, the better. This way, they could move in the shadows and not be disturbed.

Of course, this made her personal goal quite difficult. How was she supposed to attract Soarin’s attention in a climate like this? She certainly couldn’t just bump into him on the street, that wouldn’t work anymore.

She smiled. That dunce of a new police chief was working wonderfully for them. Without even meaning to, or maybe he had, everypony in the city was now looking at him and not at the PRF. He claimed to be against them, yet his actions were helping them. If it weren’t for the fact that Silverhoof had viciously attacked them in the past, she would almost think he was actually on their side.

Then again, he really could be. Everything could just be one huge act. Sunny was a mare of secrets. Not even Mirage knew just how high up in the PRF Sunny was. She knew that it was high, as the pegasus had an unprecedented level of access to information and resources. Mirage could say that she knew who pretty much every mid-level member of the PRF was, as she was one of them. But the high-level members all remained veiled in shadows.

There was one, this good-looking, poster boy of a pegasus. He’d been in charge of the tunnels where Spitfire had been kept. When Cloudbuilder absconded with Spitfire, the blame had fallen on that pegasus. Yes, Sunny had recruited Cloudbuilder, even seduced him just to use him, but she wasn’t blamed, even if she at least partially blamed herself.

The stallion, though. He’d been called into a meeting with the higher ups. When he emerged, his face was ashen and he didn’t say a word. Mirage had heard about what happened to him. He had been sent to the PRF headquarters and was the new toilet scrubber.

She barely suppressed a chuckle. It served that arrogant asshole right. His head was so far up his own ass that the air in the bathrooms had to smell familiar.

“Uh, Mirage?” a stallion’s voice broke into her thoughts. “You sure about this plan?”

“Of course I am,” she replied. She’d done her homework on Soarin’. He was an all-around dogooder. Though, while she had planned out things, she would still have to rely on luck, which she hated doing.

Soarin’s file gave her a good read on the stallion, but there was nothing better than meeting a mark, seeing their facial responses and body language. However, it wasn’t like she could just go up and talk to him. Not with her current assignment. It was risky, but she’d have to accelerate things. Fortunately, she’d come up with a plan that, she hoped, would accomplish just that.

Her gaze drew itself away from the empty street. She’d picked this place carefully. Soarin’ frequented a pie shop around here. This alley was right on his route from the PUR headquarters to the shop, so, hopefully, he’d be passing by here.

The stallion who had spoken was right behind her. He was another member of the PRF that she’d recruited to help her out. “You know what you have to do?”

He nodded. “And I’m not gonna get in trouble for this? Sunny’s not gonna do anything, is she?”

Mirage rolled her eyes at the fear in the stallion’s voice. She loved Sunny, but sometimes her, well earned, reputation got in the way. “You’ll be fine.”

Another pegasus poked his head from over the rooftop. “He’s heading this way.”

Mirage waved a hoof. “Good. Leave, before he sees you.”

There was a flutter of wings and the pegasus was gone. Mirage turned back to the other one. “Remember, make it good, but leave my face alone.”

The stallion took a deep breath. “Oh forgive me for this...” With that, he pulled back his hoof and drove it hard into her gut.

Mirage, even though she knew it was coming, doubled over, coughing. The strike was hard, and uncompromising. That was just what she was looking for. “Again.”

Several more strikes impacted her chest and sides. Each one of them was hard and harsh, it would bruise. Mirage bit down on her tongue, feeling blood start pooling in her mouth. She leaned over, spitting the viscous fluid out and onto her coat, where it matted the hairs. A trickle of the liquid ran down her muzzle, dripping onto the pavement.

“More?” the stallion asked?

Mirage looked herself over. She looked like she’d just taken a beating, but it needed something a little more. Her horn ignited, reaching into her mane and pulling out the knife she always kept there, secreted in the bun.

With a magical flick, the blade sprung out. Taking the knife, she ran it over her left side, making several cuts which began to bleed. Satisfied, she put the knife back.

“Now, keep at it.” She tensed her muscles, getting ready for the incoming strikes. For a fleeting moment, she thought she had chosen too well. This stallion hit like a train. Every strike felt drew the breath out of her, and each hit felt like it was the end. If she blacked out, then everything she planned for would be useless. She had to stay awake.

The stallion struck her again as she started screaming. It was now, or never, for Soarin’.

---

There are very few things that well and truly get Soarin’s blood boiling.

Watching a mare get pointlessly beat up and attacked is most certainly one of them.

Soarin’ found himself moving before he’d even thought of what he should do first. His wings opened and he launched himself towards the stallion, driving both hooves straight into the face of the bastard. There was a solid, satisfyingly sickening crunch as the pegasus’ nose broke, hopefully in several places. Soarin’ snorted angrily as the bastard stumbled back, dropping the knife and clutching his nose.

“You have three seconds to leave before I break your legs. One... two... thr--”

The stallion fled the alleyway as fast as he could hobble, “I didn’t sign up for this!”

Soarin’ watched as the guy hobbled off, before taking a deep breath and turning to the mare. “Can you stand?”

Mirage lay on the ground. The idiot pegasus has managed to knock the wind out of her. “I... I think so,” she managed to get out.

She tried to get to her hooves, but only succeeded in making it to her knees. Her legs wobbled.

“And that’s a solid no,” Soarin’ commented, gently helping the mare up. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

“No!” Mirage nearly shouted. “No hospitals, please. I’m okay,” she said, gritting her teeth. Damn, her lungs really did hurt. Maybe she had taken it a little too far. Every breath burned like fire, and she could feel the blood still running down her side from the cuts she’d made to herself.

“Well I can’t take care of all these wounds myself. Your cut needs stitches, and the only place I know of that can do that are hospitals.”

The unicorn looked ashamed. “I can’t afford a hospital,” she said quietly. “If you could spare a few bandages, I’ll be fine, sir.”

Soarin’ raised an eyebrow. “A few bandages? More like an entire box. And an entire block of ice. I’ll have to get a chisel.” He started moving towards his previous destination, anyway.

Mirage trotted alongside him, suppressing a hiss of pain. “Wait!” she called, leaning against him. For some reason, she still felt it difficult to stand up properly. “Don’t you want to know my name first?.”

“No need. I’m just doing what any decent pony would do.”

“I don’t have much,” she said. “But, please, I’d like to repay you, somehow.”

Soarin’ didn’t even think about his response. “No.”

Mirage was taken aback. “No? Are you sure?” She looked into his eyes. “There’s nothing I can offer you?”

Soarin’ thought for a moment, before smirking. “You can agree to go to the hospital if I pay for it.”

“I can’t do that,” Mirage said, startled. “The point is to repay you, not get further into your debt.”

“It’s... what? A hundred bits for emergency care?” Soarin’ guessed. Then he shrugged. Mirage was jostled, letting out a hiss of pain that Soarin’ didn’t appear to hear. “It’s my pleasure to help somepony who needs help. You don’t owe me anything.”

The unicorn gave a pointed look over her shoulder, at a large cardboard box that had a blanket sticking out of it. “I’m afraid that I can’t... I can’t let you pay for me.” she whispered, her head hanging low.

Soarin’ nodded. “I noticed. Like I said, it’s no problem. I have plenty of bits to spare.” Being a retired Wonderbolt does that.

“I can’t let you do that. I don’t even know your name, sir.”

Soarin’ smiled calmly to the mare. “And I don’t know yours.”

Mirage held out her hoof. “My name is Mirage,” she said. “And thank you, again, for saving me.”

“Soarin’.” He shook her hoof gently, making sure to not stress her wounds further. “You’re welcome.”

“I don’t have bits to repay you with, but I’m willing to work. I can...” she thought for a moment. “Clean your house or something.” Oh Celestia... He’s thicker than I thought. Come on and just say it already.

“I’d have to get a house for that to work.”

“Apartment, then,” she offered. “Or office.” She realized that she was grasping at straws. “Is there anything I can do?”

Soarin’s smile widened into another smirk. “Take my offer to pay for your hospital bill and stop trying to pay me back.”

Mirage sighed. This wasn’t quite going as well as she’d hoped. But perhaps there was a chance at salvation. She flattened her ears against her skull. “Could you come with me? I don’t... I don’t want to be alone right now.” She tried to make herself sound pitiful.

Soarin’ gently wrapped a wing around Mirage. “I can certainly do that.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, mixing briefly with the blood before dropping to the ground. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just... It was so scary. He just came into the alley and he... he... he started calling me all these names and then he hit me and he wouldn’t stop hitting me!” Her front legs trembled as more tears made their way down her cheeks. “I thought he was going to kill me... Or worse.”

“Well he’s gone now,” Soarin’ said, gently bringing Mirage in for a close hug.

She threw her forehooves around his neck. “Thank you, Soarin’.” She let the tears fall for a little bit longer, thankful for the fact that she can cry on command. Add in some trembling hooves, some body language, and she looked like a mare who had just been through a traumatic experience.

His strong hooves were wrapped around her. Hmm, for an older stallion, he’s quite fit..

Soarin’ let the poor mare cry for a bit, before gently separating. “Alright, come on. I don’t want those wounds to get any worse than they already are.”

Mirage nodded. “Okay. And thank you, again. I really do owe you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for when I think of any favors I could ask of you,” Soarin’ commented.

“Anything,” she replied. “I’ll do anything.”

“After you’re taken care of at the hospital.”

The two of them headed out of the alley. Soarin’ led the way down the street. He knew that there was a hospital a few blocks away. Fortunately, he’d brought his bits pouch with him when he left his office.

Mirage followed just beside Soarin’. Things weren’t going quite to plan, but then again, she was playing this mostly by ear. So there wasn’t much of a plan to begin with. Since he’d be with her at the hospital, that would give her some additional time to convince the pegasus to stick with her. If she could get him to invite her to stay at the PUR, she’d have all the access she would need to Soarin’.

---

“So since you’ve got no where else to go, I was going to invite you to stay at the PUR for the time being. Just one thing,” Soarin’ paused only long enough to turn and look Mirage in the eye. “Being injured doesn’t exempt you from chores. You’ve gotta pull your weight.”

Mirage suppressed both a sigh and a squeal of glee. Finally! Took him long enough. “Really?” she asked, her eyes going wide.

“Sure,” Soarin’ nodded, starting to lead the way. “Just be nice with the foals.”

She threw her forelegs around Soarin’s neck again. The sudden movement caused her to hiss in pain. That damned pegasus had really done more damage than she’d wanted. While the doctor hadn’t said as much, she thought that her ribs were broken. Bruised at the very least. “Oh thank you!” she cried. “I’ll be very careful around the foals. And I’ll help out in any way that I can. I don’t think my special talent is very well suited to office work, but...” she trailed off.

“Wait! Foals? I used to be a street mage. I can entertain foals quite easily.”

Soarin’ smiled. “Good, then they’ll be happy to see you. All of these foals have lost their homes to the PRF, so some fun is something they really need.”

“I can help with that. But, can we stop by my alley first? The only thing I own is my blanket. It’s the only thing I’ve still got. If I can wash it, I’d love to donate it to somepony who can use it more than I can.”

“We can certainly do that. Just take it easy, doctor’s orders and all that,” Soarin’ reminded her.

“Of course. And thank you, so much, Soarin’.” Not quite what she had wanted, but it was most certainly better than nothing.

It didn’t take long for Mirage to pick up her blanket and clean it as best she could, and shortly after, Soarin’ led the way to the PUR headquarters. He was rather sorry for the poor mare to have come across a stallion like that; it was even more unfortunate that they even existed at all. Soarin’ had to take a deep breath, to keep his anger from resurfacing. At least now she would have a place to stay, a warm bed and warm food, and those thoughts made him proud that he’d founded the PUR. It helped that she would be great for the foals as well; he couldn’t wait to see the smiles on their faces.

---

Made in collaboration with DarkPheonix, and the letter 666.

Timestamp:
Early Afternoon, July 30. Fire Day +1


Mirage looked around her. Despite it’s ridiculous name, the PUR was actually well organized. Within half an hour of arriving, she had been given a bunk, some food, and offered a shower. She had taken them up on the shower, though she had to be careful to not get her new bandages wet.

It was entirely possible that she had cut herself a little too deeply. While she didn’t need stitches, the doctor had tutted and frowned. He had bandaged her while muttering something about the state of the city.

To be honest, she had tuned him out. She was more focused on acting like the scared little unicorn mare she was supposed to be, and watching Soarin’. He had treated her with the utmost respect, but had also comforted her when she needed it.

He really was a do-gooder.

Only a do-gooder would waste the prodigious amount of resources it took to get this place up and running. Only a do-gooder would go to the lengths he had to help others. It really was too bad he was on the other side. A pony as smart as him could be useful to the PRF. Though she wasn’t going to try and convert him. That had not worked well with Spitfire, and it wouldn’t work well with him. If he wanted to join them, he would.

She had now been at the PUR for an hour and a half, and had poked her nose into as many rooms as she could, getting a layout for the place, as well as learning where all the important things were. It was too soon for her to try and steal something. This was her first long term job, which required a method of thinking that she wasn’t used to.

Since she really had no way to make herself useful, she opted to just sit in a corner. So far, she hadn’t seen either Spitfire or Cloudbuilder, but she knew that they had been here this morning. She’d spoken to a few ponies who had seen the fiery mare.

So caught up was she in her thoughts, she jumped a bit when something poked her foreleg. Looking down, she saw a little filly. The pegasus filly had an aqua blue coat, with a blue mane. “Excuse me, are you Miss Mirage?”

Mirage blinked. Of course she had introduced herself to the ponies she’d met while wandering around, though she didn’t remember ever talking to any foals. “Er, yes. I’m Mirage.”

The filly looked up at her. “Soarink said that you can do magic. Could you do some for me?”

Ah, so that’s what this was about. Soarin’ must have spilled the beans on her being a street illusionist. Of course, most of the time she was performing illusions so that nopony would notice their wallets disappearing. But perhaps this time, she could refrain from doing that.

“I suppose I can manage something,” she replied with a smile. It was time she started proving why she should stick around this place. If that meant entertaining a few foals, then so be it.

She waved a hoof, getting the filly to back up a bit. “Let me tell you a story,” Mirage said. Her horn lit up. The air in front of her wavered, six distinct images taking shape. “Once upon a time, there lived a pony and her five friends.”

The lavender pony trotted over to the other five, greeting them with a wave of her hoof. “This pony was special. She and her friends were known far and wide as the great heroes, The Elements of Harmony.” A tiara appeared on the head of the lavender unicorn, necklaces on the five others.

Several more foals came up, taking seats next to the first filly as Mirage continued her story. “One day, the Elements came across a fearsome creature.” A tall thing appeared in the air, seeming a mishmash of various body parts. “The Lord of Chaos, known as Discord!” Discord grew in size, flexing.

The foals let out cries of surprise or fright. The cries drew the attention of even more ponies.

“Discord had stolen the Elements themselves.” The necklaces and tiara vanished as Discord snapped his claw. “Now they had to face down whatever Discord threw at them, to get the Elements back and save Equestria!”

Mirage continued with her story, narrating the time that not-yet-Princess Twilight and her friends fought Discord. Her illusory puppets matched what she said, though she added flourishes and dramatic movements. At times, she added in some basic backgrounds, recreating the iconic scenes of Discord’s chaotic world and the hedge maze..

Finally, she got to the end of the story. “And so, Discord had been turned to stone once more, and Equestria was saved.” The images of the Elements of Harmony bowed to the rather substantial crowd, before they vanished. Mirage powered down her horn, taking in a deep breath to steady herself. A show like that certainly took a lot out of her.

There was silence in the room for a mere second, before the gathered crowd of ponies started cheering and stomping their hooves. It seemed like they had enjoyed her show, the foals especially, as they started clamoring for more.

Mirage held up a hoof. “Thank you for enjoying the show. I would love to do another, but unfortunately, I must rest for a moment.” The foals groaned. “However, I have many more stories to tell, so I promise you that there will be more to come.”

Several of the adults, who had also been engrossed in the show, herded the foals away, giving Mirage thankful looks. When they were gone, leaving her alone again, she breathed a sigh of relief.

If she was being entirely honest with herself, it felt good to do an honest show. It was rare that she got to use her special talent without there being some secondary purpose behind it. Stealing wallets, distracting somepony, whatever she was trying to do.

She shook her head. Now was not the time to get lost, she had a job to do. During her performance, she had seen Spitfire. The mare had walked passed, with both Soarin’ and the traitor Cloudbuilder. They had stopped briefly, watched her show for a minute, before walking off.

Mirage wished she could have gone after them, but she had needed to finish the story, first. She didn’t want to seem too eager. The goal was to get close to them, not drive them away from her.

As much as it galled her, she would have to get close to Spitfire, through Soarin’, or Cloudbuilder. Soarin’ she knew would be close to Spitfire, those two had a very long history. There were rumors that they had even been lovers back in their Wonderbolt days. As for Cloudbuilder... She needed to learn more about him before doing anything. Spitfire hadn’t killed him yet, and seemed to be keeping him close, if their lack of information on him meant anything. So if he was useful to Spitfire, he would be useful to her.

She wanted nothing more than to take her knife and drive it into Cloudbuilder over and over again. He had betrayed Sunny, so he deserved nothing less. For now, though, she’d have to stay her hoof, even get close to him. Of course, if she could really get close to him, that would make the inevitable outcome all the more satisfying.

Getting up from her corner, she went off in search of Spitfire. It was time to introduce herself to the mare.

Timestamp: July 29th, 05:59 pm, The Long Day winds down

---

Mirror stared at the smooth white expanse, and almost felt a tear come to her eye. She laid her head on the cold hard surface and just let the world rush past her for a moment. It had felt for a while today like she would never see her own front door again.

...on the other hoof, she was tired, filthy, hungry, and probably making the few neighbors who didn't already consider her eccentric question her sanity. Plus she was leaving smoke stains on the door. Which reminded her that she was filthy with smoke residue, ground in dirt, and the sweat both from fighting the fire, and the rather long walk home once she had discovered that the train routes had not been immediately restored after the disaster.

She shook her head. None of it mattered now, she was home, and with enough effort she would be clean again. The thought of a sympathetic ear didn't hurt too much, either. Mirror tilted her head in thought, 'huh, I wonder what happened to Crescent today? I mean, I didn't see him out at the fire, but then I didn't see Soarin', either, and I KNOW he was there… I guess we'll be able to swap stories.' she grinned to herself, imagining that it was a comparison she'd finally win.

The smooth white expanse still dominated her view, and the pegasus stared at it, mutely, for a moment before she realized she still hadn't opened  the front door of her apartment. She squinted at the handle, which refused to turn, trying to unlock the puzzle in her– 'UNLOCK, right… keys...' she shifted through her saddlebag, momentarily mourning the fact that it would probably never wash clean, unlike her fur, which refused to hold onto any color at all for longer than six hours, so it seemed.

There was a moment of panic when she couldn't hear the usual jangle of her keys in the bottom of the bag, and then she remembered she had tied them into one of the secure pockets, so she wouldn't lose them. Not feeling confident with a wing-grip at the moment, she reached her muzzle into the bag, nipping the key-ring in her teeth and pulling it free.

Three keys jangled from her mouth, and for a moment it was beyond her capacity for rational thought to remember which one went in the key-hole. That was when she noticed the voices.

"...n't know, she has just been standing there for ten minutes now."
"...ting to get uncomfortable, whose stupid idea was it to surprise her anyway?"
"...you sure that's Mirror? Kinda looks like an animated pile of ashes."

Mirror Shine's eyes widened, the keys dropped to the ground as her mouth fell open. She staggered back a step, but it was too late, the door burst open, a shower of hooves seemed to grab her from all sides and pulled her into the air and inside the building.

"Surpri–"
"Dear Celestia, it's all over my hooves!"
"What is this stuff?"
" *Sniiif* does anypony else smell smoke?"
"Ye look like ya fought a box'a matches and lost, Mirrah, wot happ'ned?"

"Off, off, off!" The ash-coated mare shouted, "Let go of me!" She tried, with perhaps more clarity.

The assembled ponies obliged with alacrity, each for their own reasons. The pale pegasus squinted, trying to run through the list of ponies she knew and match the mares and stallions up… some paranoid back bit of her brain wouldn't let go of the idea she was being foal-napped.

The hap-hazard herd regarded one another. After a moment a fuschia-furred mare stepped forward, a hoof outstretched, though she was careful not to actually touch Mirror's greasy coat. "Dearie, what have you been up to to leave you in … in such a state?"

'That can only be Powder Puff.' Mirror thought to herself, half tempted to leap up and wrap her forehooves and wings around the other mare's carefully coiffed thick fur, just to hear her scream bloody murder. But she decided not to, it seemed like her friends were actually here to help, for once.

The assembled ponies continued to stare at Mirror, as though they expected– 'ohhh, right, I'm supposed to respond.' "Uh, funny story, really. See, I was helping to stop the fire that broke out in the Ag Hex today." She chuckled awkwardly.

The gathered group began to laugh to various degrees, and Mirror realized they didn't believe her. "Hey, I'm serious! I was scared out of my wits, but I mean, if I didn't help out, who the hay was going to?"

Tundra Frost, a tall gray and brown stallion, the one who hadn't been laughing to begin with, nodded his head. "I belief her." Three words from the taciturn moving pony were like a paragraph from a regular stallion, let alone one of the actors. The laughter died away.

"Seems like there's a story there, Mirra." Commented a bottle green pegasus.

'… Steady, uh … Pace – I think?' Mirror mused, noting how close she stood to the towering stallion who had spoken previously. She remembered to reply this time. "Y-yeah, not sure whether to start with joining the Guard, or when I got arrested during the city hall bominbing," everypony leaned in, curious to see if her story would match such tantalizing claims. "But first, I am absolutely filthy. Thanks, everypony, for coming out to see, me, but I am going to take a shower now, no matter what I have to do to get it."

A goldenrod and rust unicorn leered and snickered "Lemme know if you need somepony to wash your back for you." Most of those assembled agreed that the waggling eyebrows were over the top and positively vaudevillian – in the bad sense of the word.

The bedraggled mare didn't hesitate a moment, actually managing to lift the startled stallion off the ground as she hugged him, being sure to rub her greasy mane up and down his barrel and neck. "Oh that's sooo nice of you to offer, Fresnel. I'd never take you up in a thousand years, but it's the thought that counts, right?"

The lighting technician looked comatose. For all that Fresnel Lens liked to brag about being a 'working pony', he also had a neurotic hatred for grease.

Mirror cast her gaze over the other ponies as she let the shocked stallion fall to the floor. The pegasus mare allowed a grin to curl across her muzzle – she was enjoying this perhaps a tad too much, but there was too much momentum built up to back down now. "OK, I am going to go take a shower now. If you haven't already, you're welcome to anything edible in the icebox… no, it's clean now, I swear. You can thank Crescent for that…" a light went off in her head. "Uh, speaking of, was there a unicorn here when you lot crashed my apartment?"

Several heads shook back and forth. Finally a tan earth stallion looked up from the costume he'd been inspecting while sucking at his teeth in disappointment. "No, Mirri, your boy-toy wasn't here today."

This managed to make the mare pause, one hoof on the washroom door handle. "He is NOT my…" she shook her head, "No more talky, me washy, you… uh, no breaky stuff. I'll explain everything I can, but not until after I'm clean." Her proclamation proclaimed, she grabbed the door… remembering to pull on it after trying to shove it open and dove in, closing and locking it after her.

Fresnel staggered to his hooves, daring anypony to laugh at him, before brushing off some imaginary lint… pointedly ignoring the very real soot-stains all down his front. "Ten bits says she made up the whole story while standing  on her doorstep."

Terry Cloth grinned, having already heard much of the story, "You're on, aaand if I win, you've got to wear a tie whenever you go out in public, for…. a week."

The lighting technician rolled his eyes but nodded.

Steady Pace peeked in the refrigeration unit, and took a second look. Behind her the fabulously fluffy Powder Puff whistled, "Oh my, not only does she have a live in 'guest', but it would appear he can cook."

---

08:15 pm, Mirror Shine's Apartment, 042 Circle Street

---

"I do not bucking believe this." Fresnel Lens snapped. "Impossible."

"Hey, I am NOT making any of this up!" Mirror cried, stamping a hoof on the floor.

The unicorn brushed the complaint aside, "You I believe, you may be almost as good as me when it comes to lighting, but you're horsecrap for making up stories. What I don't believe is him," Fresnel stabbed a hoof at the pony smugly sitting on the couch wearing his namesake terrycloth robe. "You," the unicorn spat, "Already knew about most of this stuff. You can't make bets on stuff you already know… that's… it's … cheating!"

"Aww, Fressie, calm down, those veins on the sides of your head don't do your bulging forehead any favors." The earth pony made a show of carefully bringing out a tape, measure and getting examining Fresnel's neck. "If you go and make a bet in ignorance, that's your business, but you can't count on the rest of us being just as blind. Of course, if you want to back out on your word…" Mr. Cloth simpered in mock innocence.

"Not on your life, you damn poof, I never back out of a bargain… but I'm going to get you back for this…" Fresnel grumbled, using another roll of disposable towels in a vain attempt to clean the soot stains without asking Mirror for the use of her washroom.

The others decided the two stallions weren't going to say anything else entertaining and returned to their own conversation. "So, yeah, that's what I've been doing to keep 'busy'." Mirror chuckled, "What brought you guys all around at the same time?"

Powder Puff took the lead. "We want to resurrect the Minerva Theater, dear. It's as simple as that."

"Whoa, seriously? I mean, it was kinda burned to the ground." The once-again pale pegasus pointed out.

"Not building, acting company." Tundra was positively ebullient.

"We figure with a little work, we could rigga stage up nearly anywea, and it was always the ponies who made the plays, weren't it?"

Mirror nodded. "You're right, I mean I guess…" the pegasus felt oddly reluctant to acknowledge how much she loved the idea.

"Well obviously we had no idea you were doing such important work when we came to ask for your help…" Powder added, chuckling.

"There's no need to be sarcastic," Mirror grumbled, hiding her muzzle under her hooves. It took her a few moments to realize the others were staring at her in confusion. "What?"

"Mirror Shine," The fuschia mare all but barked, "How dare you try to be modest at a time like this!"

"Is obvious Keptin Spitsfire needs outsiders who ken be trusted."
"An somepony needs ta keep that overgrown dandy of an office clerk from messin' up the guard any furtha."
"Hey, c'mon, us freaks gotta stick together, you know?"

"You guys…" Mirror couldn't identify the feeling in the pit of her stomach, it seemed to defy metaphor.

"Ohh-kay, ponies, I think we've got a new mission." Terry Cloth stood, casually tossing the measuring tape over his shoulder.

The albino mare looked back and forth, vaguely disturbed by the looks of determination her friends had adopted. "Hold, whoa whoa whoa… this is an incredibly bad idea. I mean, thank you; seriously, thank you all for–" Mirror found herself lifted off the ground in a group hug, and she didn't even have to kick Fresnel for trying to cop a feel. "Akk – Not done! I wasn't done talking. 'Thank you all for the vote of confidence but I can't possibly–"

"Refuse such a generous offer? We know, dearie. You'll just have to find some way to make it up to us."

When they finally set her back down, Mirror swiftly grabbed one of the towels still floating along after Fresnel and wiped her face with it. The paper came away wet. 'This is what I've been missing, having actual backup. Yes, they're a bunch of deranged lunatics, but they're MY kind of lunatics. You know what? Buck. Logic. This is going to be a hay of a lot more fun.'

Timestamp, July 30th, 10:30 AM, location Unknown

---

The taste in the back of Crescent's throat was like a week old dirty towel that had been dragged down the middle of an alleyway. A pounding headache, however, kept him from worrying about the taste too much. With a heavy grunt he tried to sit up, the headache pulsing through his head as jack-hammer.

The unicorn blearily looked around the room. Even in his dazed state he could tell this wasn't Mirror's apartment. How the hay did I get here?, he wondered… but nothing seemed to jog his memory. The room was sparsely decorated, only the couch he had been sleeping on, a small table, chair, wastebasket, and carpet. The flat green walls held no windows, and a single door. The dim light flickered from a single lamp on the table.

Crescent realized his stuff was gone. Cursing to himself, he threw another, more desperate, look around the room, finally catching sight of his saddle bags by the end of the sofa. Inside lay all of his belongings, minus the sword, of course. Great, so someone has taken my sword and locked me in this room. I bet there will be some interrogator coming soon, too; now that I’m awake.

Ignoring the dully fading headache, he got on his hooves and examined the room's only exit. Placing his ear to the door told him somepony stood directly outside the exit, likely guards so I don't try to make a daring escape. Which is not very likely without my tool. He wouldn’t get anywhere with just biding his time in this room so he could at least make sure they knew he was awake. He tried the door and, to his surprise, it opened.

The guard outside was a big earth pony, not as large as a certain other earth pony, but still big enough to encourage caution within the swordspony.

Noting the unicorn's scrutiny, the guard nodded to another pony. The second stallion, of a much leaner build, trotted promptly down the hall. The first earth pony turned back to address Crescent. "Sir, my superior would like to have a word with you. Please remain here until he arrives."

Crescent frowned. “You mean I could chose to leave? Gotta say, you don’t meet many foalnappers who let their victims go after taking them.”

The earth pony shrugged, "I wasn't present when you were brought in, and I don't really care how you got here." After a moment's consideration, the stallion added, "Are you hungry?"

Crescent couldn’t really remember eating anything before the fire; he remembered getting a mare and her foal out from a building but after that… “Yeah, though I guess with the recent fire, food supply will be short and rationed.”

"I'm sure that sort of thing's above my pay-grade." The earth pony seemed unusually smug as he replied.

“May I acquire why I’m here? It’s not some friendly invitation to a quick dinner, that’s for certain.”

"I suppose I wasn't clear before, I'm not paid to know anything about…" The guard paused, placing a hoof against his right ear and staring off into space for a moment. The moment passed almost as quickly as it came, and the earth stallion nodded. "My employer will be here momentarily, and I am certain he will be able to answer most of your questions."

Crescent nodded. “Right then, I’ll retire to my royal quarters. Call upon me if anything requires my judgment.”

"Sir." The guard replied, face carefully neutral, though Crescent thought he had heard the hint of a snort.

---

10:46 AM

---

A knock resounded upon the door. Three precise raps. A moment later the door's handle glowed with a blue green aura that reminded Crescent of the patina on old copper. With a twist the handle swung the door inward. A blue unicorn with a re-orange mane and tail stepped in, trailed by a large oblong shape that the swordspony immediately recognized.

The stallion, dressed in a severely tailored jacket and tie, spared a little more mana to levitate a file folder up to his eye-level. "July thirteenth, three fourteen pm, one 'Crescent Sunrise' is arrested by the city guard of Ravaalon. Earlier this day, Donatello Casino, my nephew and direct line of the Casino Family, was affronted and publicly humiliated by a unicorn of matching description. Two days later, the Mended Pig tavern reported an incident involving a white pegasus and a orange unicorn with crimson red and ash grey mane, as well as an unidentified assailant of unknown species…" The blue unicorn paused to read the next line, "Possibly a gryphon. Nice." One eyebrow raised and fell again.

The pony levitated out another sheet of paper, but paused to stare and Crescent over the edge of the folder for a moment before tossing the entire folder toward a trash bin. "Y'know, some real egghead said something like 'What's past is prologue', which kinda translates to 'you don't have to be controlled by your past.' I don't buckin care who you were, or what your problems are. Already talked to Warrant, and believe me, he's gonna stay away from you, from now on." The blue unicorn steepled his forehooves. "What I care about, Mr. Sunrise, is the future, and how the present gets us there."

"My name is Montague Carlos Casino. I know who you are, obviously." The sword, still sheathed, floated within easy range for Crescent to take it in his own magic. "Please, feel free to call me 'Monty'."

With an undertone of suspicion, Crescent took his blade. “I’ll stick with Mr. Carlos if it’s all the same to you. Now I don’t like beating around the crystal-berry bush and I’m pretty sure you don’t either so let’s get down the the reason I’m here.”

Montague Carlos nodded solemnly. "Seems fair. I believe you have a connection with former City Guard Captain Spitfire–" Monty caught the sudden tension in the swordpony's posture and wave a hoof, "Naw, I don't even want to meet her right now; all I want's for you to pass on one little message for me, when you see her again." He leaned forward, grinning from ear to ear.

The wide grin was a bit unsettling but Crescent stayed put. “What would I have to tell her?”

"You tell her I've got a stockpile of food that'll feed this city for a month, and all she's got to do is talk to me and it'll start finding it's way to hungry ponies. I don't care where, and the only reason 'when' matters is if if you guys want any of the fresh greens before they turn brown, you understand?"

He held his hooves far out from his body, making a very relaxed 'Y' "That's it. If you want, you're free to leave right now, Mr. Crescent Sunrise, lately of 042 Circle Lane. But if you'd like to stick around and exchange some extraneous information… well I would not find myself averse to such a trade, if you know what I mean."

Crescent pondered for a second. “Well, you do offer a good deal right here, but this whole ordeal seems to be a clear trap of some kind, just saying. Now I’m not saying you don’t look like a trustworthy pony, I just don’t trust the meathead of a body guard you have. As for the Casino foal, he is a pony with way too much ego if you don’t mind me saying. It just seems like the wrong ponies are connected here.”

"Reeeealy now?" Monty chuckled. "Because I have to tell you, it sounds like you're trying to stall for some reason." The blue unicorn shrugged. "Family is family, but if I weren't a member of the Casino House, I'd probably agree with you that Donnie is a snot-nosed brat who needs to be taken down a peg or two."

"As for the whole trust issue, so far as you know, there is no reason at all why you should trust me." Carlo raised an eyebrow, "That said, I believe you may be operating under a mistaken assumption. You were not foalnapped, you were rescued. And that is why we are still talking right now, you and me."

Crescent looked puzzled. “Rescued you say? I can’t recall having brought any fights after the big fire.”

"There's three punks who'd not agree with you, Mr. Sunrise. They all clearly remember getting their tails kicked by you. Heh, one even stole your sword and you still knocked him down. With a pipe." Monty shook his coppery mane, chuckling at the image.

Crescent tried to remember it. It was hazy but he did remember some alley and a couple of ponies. “Where did you find me again?”

"Angela said she found you, unconscious, in a warehouse specializing in the storage of Magitabs and Magitech batteries." The blue pony frowned, clearly unsatisfied. "She said some... other stuff, but… I'd rather hear what You remember."

Crescent was lost in his own trail of thoughts. What was I doing down there? It should’ve been the last place I would’ve gone to after the big fire… Why would I go there?

"Mmhmm," The Casino pony eyed the swordspony, "That's the look of somepony lost in thought. I understand you may have a mad-on for the PRF. Would it help if I mentioned those three mooks were all flunkies for the featherbrains?"

“Well, recently I’ve pissed off more ponies than I can count. I’m not sure what I was doing in that part of the city but the pegasi could have been a warning.” Crescent shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe I was looking for a fight myself to just blow off some steam.”

"Hah, you're a real funny pony, Crescent." Monty chucked, "...steam… whooo. Yeah, you'd know yourself, wouldn't you? So basically you follow these goons down an alley, the first one goes over like a box of pins, and the other two hoof it. You catch the second guy around the corner, but the third one breaks for this warehouse. That ring any bells?" The unicorn appeared to be leaning forward.

The headache crept back into Crescent's awareness. There is something amiss, Crescent though, What is it? Why does it feel like I’m missing something? Horse apples, this headache is really not help- He froze. That was it, his head, it was his head. He tried not to let it show as he looked back at Mr. Carlos. “Sorry, I’ve seem to have gotten a heavy blow to the head.”

Montague opened and closed his mouth a few times, the charm and humor and 'affability' slipped away and only a look of intense concentration was left. The facade returned almost as quickly as it had vanished, though the pony's tone was certainly more brusque. "Of, of course. I said you could leave when you wanted to, so… yeah."

A moment later the door opened again and a peach and blonde pegasus stuck her head in. "Yes, Mr. Carlos?"

"Penny, please escort Mr. Sunrise here to the street access. That'll be all." The blue unicorn turned back to Crescent. "Now don't forget to remember me to our mutual favorite former Wonderbolt, will you?"

“I’ll deliver the message. Good day Mr. Carlos.” He followed the mare out.

---

July 30th, 01:59 pm, 042 Circle Lane

---

Mirror stared at the spare bed, frowning. Not like it's any business of mine what he does… she told herself. And yet she had made the bed earlier that morning before heading out to work, and now she was checking to see if there had been any change while she'd been away. The bed still as roughly made as she had left it. This is stupid, he said he's a mercenary soldier. I'm sure sober he wouldn't lose a fight like last time… Oh moon, Mirror, shut up!

The pale pegasus pony stomped out of the room and stalked over to the front door. There was still an hour before she had to leave to report for the guard, but she didn't feel like simply sitting around. She pulled the door open with perhaps an excess of force and–

“Oh, hi Mirror. On your way out?”

The perplexed pony paused, peering out at the unexpected unicorn. "Uh… yes, I mean no, I mean I was, but…" She looked him over, "Wow, you really look like Tartarus warmed over; why don't we finish this conversation inside?"

“Yeah, there’s a few things we need to talk about.”

Mirror stopped and turned back to look at Crescent, "The fire?"

“The fire, after the fire, an offer I’m suppose to deliver a message to Spitfire and general confusion.” He set the bag and sword away beside the door as he came in.

"You're WHAT!?" the pegasus mare blurted. She shook her head. "Sorry, um, probably better to start at the earlier part, I guess?"  Mirror frowned, "Except… are you hurt?" She peered at the unicorn.

“Nah, mostly just headache and some stiffness but I’ll be fine.”

Mirror nodded, turning on the heat under the kettle and retrieving a chamomile tea packet. "If you're sure," She said, still dubious, but equally curious to hear what had happened. "...ok, sorry, but the Spitfire part bothers me. Who has a message for the Captain?" She frowned, "Um, I mean if that's not, like sensitive information, or anything."

Crescent sat down on the sofa with a heavy sigh. “It’s more of an offer really. You ever heard of some stallion called Carlos Casino?”

"I know who the Casino Family are. I don't really know the individual… um whatever the ponies in charge are called. But they're like one of the larged criminal families in Ravaalon, and they run most of the gambling houses, don't they?" Mirror mulled the idea over. "Wait, isn't that guy who doesn't like you connected to the Casinos?"

“I think most of the casino family doesn’t like me. Either way, I’m alive and acting mail pony between them and Spitfire. He wanted to offer a big supply of food to the city, as a generous I suppose, but the whole thing stinks of foul play.”

"Darn right it does. How did this jerk know there was going to be a food shortage – unless…" Mirror's jaw dropped. She had little time to devolve into spastic action, however, as the kettle began to whistle. After she had poured out two mugs full of hot water, she turned back to Crescent, more composed than she might have been, otherwise. "So, you think this 'Carlos' pony might have orchestrated the fire?"

“Well this all puts him at a good spot if he has this stash of stored food, but if it’s just a way to lure Spitfire, he’s wrong. No, I think he actually wants to get a good look in the public’s eyes; question is, Why do this now?”

"Um, maybe the head of the Casino family is old or about to die and there's some sort of fight for the succession?" Mirror mused, "Or he thinks the way the city is falling apart will give him a chance to make some kind of power grab?" She frowned, "You said it, 'why now' ? The timing is just too convenient." He brown furrowed further. "And he's got you, because you can't afford to not tell Spitfire, I mean, even if all you do is warn her, he's still made her aware he exists, and so the possibility exists she'll…" A web of reflections trailed off into infinity in the pale pegasus's mind's eye.

“Either go through with it or go straight to him and confront him, at least that’s what I would’ve done.”

"Well, in any case, here's some tea. It's probably kinda strong, sorry about that." Mirror set the tray down on the coffee table. The mugs smelled much like warm hay. "S-so they roughed you up?" Well, that explains the bruises and where he was last night… not that I care, other than being upset a friend of mine was hurt.

Crescent took a careful sip of the cup she offered him. “Actually, I think they rescued me, as weird as it might be.”

Mirror frowned, picking her next question carefully. "Rescued you from … what, exactly?"

He out the cup down. “That’s where things turn a bit bad. My memory of it all is still hazy but I’m pretty sure I know what happened. After the big fire, I made my way to the Industrial Hex, I had been by Trinket earlier for some… remedy and he came in talk,well, I came in talk about potential PRF members. So, I went down there and found a band of three pegasi who were awfully suspicious. I got them pinned into a corner and things got heated when I saw through them, hence the slight bruising I have.”

Mirror nodded, not sure where this was going. Crescent had beaten up the bad ponies, that was good, right? He said himself that he wasn't hurt badly… I mean that could easily be bravado, but it still doesn't seem like what he meant.

“Anyway, I guess I managed to take two of them down but the third somehow got my sword and tried to take off. I ended up cornering him in a warehouse where they had Magitech and Magitabs and the likes.” Crescent swallowed as the next part was the hard one. “The guy knocks over a shelf with tabs to distract me and I… I… oh Celestia.”

"Hey… it's ok, shhh, shhh." Mirror put a hoof on the unicorn's shoulder, "If you can't talk about it, then don't. You're ok now, and that's what's important." Dear Celestia indeed… he's shivering. What did they do to you, Crescent?

“No, Mirror, this is bad. Seriously bad. The city has enough problems as it is and we certainly don’t need this on top of it all!”

"Ok, Cress, you're scaring me now." She put her other forehoof on the opposite shoulder.

“I should’ve known,” he said as he frantically rubbed his bandaged hoof. “I was an idiot who thought anything good would come out of it and now… By nightmare moon, the signs were all there but I was way too blind to see it.”

She wanted to shout at him, to shake him, even just to tell him to stop stalling, but it would only have made things worse, so she did the hard thing, nothing. "See what, Crescent? What was it you didn't see?"

He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “The voice in my head. I thought it was just me going insane and I actually didn’t mind. I’ve had trouble letting my past go and I let myself get fooled by that, that-”

Mirror set her forehead against the rambling unicorn's. "Ok, seriously, Crescent. Shut up for a minute. You're stuck in a loop. Your stress making it difficult for you to talk about the thing that is causing you stress, which is causing you stress, making it difficult for you to talk about… well, you get it."

She pulled her head back a few inches. "But it's ok. I'm here, and I don't care what you've done, or didn't do, or whatever. You obviously really want to say this, and I'll try to help you get it out, so just breathe for a moment, because if it's not gonna blow up the house in the next five minutes, then we have time." She smiled, reaching out to tap his nose. "K?" She wanted to hug him, but was afraid he'd break down entirely.

Crescent took another sip of the warm tea and it seemed to calm him. he took a couple of seconds to take some deep breaths before continuing. “I have brought a Myst Mare to the city.”

"Aaand that's bad, right? What is a mist mare?" She hadn't the foggiest clue.

“Trust me, the PRF is nothing compared to this… and I brought it here, straight to the worst place ever.”

"Hey – HEY! Self recriminations later, make with the datamiginationism thingy." She tapped his nose again. For some reason it seemed like a good idea at the time. "You brought a fog-cloud to a city in the sky… why's that an issue. Does this thing eat bad thoughts or somthing? Is it going to spontaneously generate clones of Sunset Shimmer all over the place? Can it cause ponies to spontaneously generate new cutie marks with uncontrollable special talents that can't be turned off?" Mirror was aware she was verging into the ridiculous, but it was clear Crescent needed something to focus on, and she was good at generating annoyance.

“It’s a… a creature, either created by concentrated magic or another method but I’m sure this was a magic-based Myst. It’s mostly seen as a misty figure of a pony, mostly the figure they once were or mimicking the looks of the magic they spawned from, or close to that pony. It’s a succubus for magic, meaning it feeds on unicorns mostly but every class of pony has some sort of magic so they can go for any kind. If they take a liking to certain ponies, they’ll drain them of magic and start sucking life itself out of somepony.”

"... so basically you had a less gross version of Tirek riding around inside your skull, is that what you're saying?" Mirror spoke the words, but for some reason they simply wouldn't come together fully. Things eating magic == bad. Things riding around in pony brains, also bad. The mean chompy thing wasn't in Crescent's head, so… bad? No… BAD is that scary chompy thing is now free to run around, and the first place it stopped was a warehouse full of magitabs and battery fluid. THINK MIRROR… I don't want to. TOO BAD.

"I-I don't even…" She didn't have time to smack herself or perform any other self-indulgent I'm upset behavior. "We have to tell Princess Twilight about this. Like, NOW."

It is completely unsurprising that a undersize pegasus was unable to bodily lift a mercenary unicorn, but the pegasus tried anyway. "Unff! Come on!"

“Mirror, stop! We don’t even know where Twilight is.”

"So we grab a functionary and start squeezing until they talk!" She shouted, stopping for a moment when her own voice startled her. "Look, you were right, this is like mind-destroyingly terrifying, which is exactly why the 'plucky underdogs' need to suck up their pride and go ask they 'mysterious hierophant' to fix things BEFORE half the city is lying comatose, gray, and unresponsive."

“It’s a magic-sucking cloud of power inside a warehouse filled to the brim with just that, if it wanted to it would have done so already. I don’t know why I even lived as long as I did with that thing inside me but whatever it’s biding its time for, the better.”

"Don't try to confuse the situation with logic." Mirror ran her hooves through her hair, "Oh sure, this is the one changeling who really does regret feeding on love, who just wants to be accepted as a sentient being and live in peace and harmony… no, you drag the threat to the pony who can actually take care of things. Don't talk to the guard, they're always scripted to dismiss you. The functionary will not only think you're crazy, but will actively work against you because they're obsessively protective of the princess's personal time. No, you go straight for the jugular vein and maybe, just maybe stuff gets solved. It makes for a crappy story, but who really wants to live in a compelling and dramatic story?"

Crescent started trotting around the living room. “By Luna’s horseshoe, it’s a Myst Mare sitting smack down on the biggest supply of power ever. It can suck up enough to… well I don’t know what but it’s definitely not good.”

"Nothing you are saying is making me any less determined to take care of this as soon as possible, Cress." The pegasus crossed her forehooves over her barrel.

“Dammit Mirror, attack it straight on you’ll be as good as dead. Just.. give me some time to remember things, okay?”

"Pfft, bwahahahaha! You seriously think I'm going to march down to the Warehouse district and challenge this fog foal to fisti-hooves? I'm unnerved, not stupid. I'm telling you, anything you come up with, well we call tell Princess Twilight that as well. You want an oblique approach? The Princess of Books is the Queen of Oblique, or do you really think you're smarter than she is?"

“Believe me, we kept what happened back in my town shut down. Any writing about it is gone and the whole ordeal has been reduced to just a local fairy tale.”

Mirror opened her mouth to reply, and then shut it again. It didn't really matter what she said, Crescent had already made up his mind. "So that's it then. You can't bring yourself to trust me." Somehow it hurt more than when she had thought the same thing about Spitfire.

Crescent froze and stared straight at her.“I never said that but please, come back after you’ve witnessed almost your whole town having their magic and life essence sucked out of them and tell me you won’t give things a second thought before rushing off.”

"WELL I GUESS I'M ABOUT TO HAVE MY CHANCE NOW, AREN'T I?!" She stalked up to the door, paused, and stalked back to her room. Stupid, stupid, stupid stupid… She wasn't even sure which one of them she was ranting at. She stated grabbing up the bits of her uniform, but she couldn't concentrate to put them on in the correct order.

“Mirror, stop. If you rush out now, nothing good will come out of it.”

"I'm going to WORK." She hissed. "Without you backing me up, there's no point in me even trying to talk to anypony about this, because it's just second-hoof hearsay from a flighty pegasus. So don't worry, you can keep all your precious damn secrets and be the secret, tragic hero of your own damn story, because I can't do anything to change your mind. But in the meantime I'm going to keep doing the only remotely constructive thing I still can. You all want me to be simple pony, but then you keep throwing this complicated stuff at me, and then being surprised when I come up with complicated answers. So fine, you win. I'll be simple, and we can all go down in flames together. Hooray." Now the uniform was not only on in the wrong order, but damp in places. Must have been a leak in the ceiling. And the salt? Oh SHUT UP!

“Do you think I like What has happened to me? You think I like being the loner who can’t talk about his past and can’t scrape together a future for himself because of his festering secrets? NO! I hate it, I hate how my past is what it is and I wish so strongly that I never would have been involved with it! I wish I could be the victim, another who could watch from the sideline but however hard I try, I can’t. You know how the ‘tragic’ hero deals with things after the story is over? He wants to die, he is tired of the lise, the secrets and the misery but guess what? He can’t stand the thought of other suffering like he does, so he continues going with that crushing pain, carrying it it with him so don’t tell me I’m not doing anything because dammit, it stings me so hard to relive this.” Crescent was shaking, he could barely hold back tears. He didn’t know if he was angry or sad but he was clearly falling apart.

"Stop it, just stop it! Sun and Moon, I wish you could hear yourself. You're sick of the lies and the misery? Who the buck do you think is the one keeping secrets, I'll give you a hint, it's not the Tooth Breezie. Tragic Heroes are 'tragic' because they're responsible for their own downfall. But none of this matters, does it? All I'm doing is feeding your already glutted sense of self-pity. So yeah, this… what we're doing now? This is way unhealthy. So it stops right here. I'm sorry we can't agree on this matter, and that it bothers me so much, but it does."

Mirror took a deep breath. "So in two minutes I'm going to walk out the front door. I'm going to go report in to the guard. You don't have to worry that I will say anything – any-thing about mist mares or warehouses or crime families. I'm just going to go… I don't know what, whatever Sgt. Boiled has for me to do today. Because I can't do this. The best I can offer is to not say anything… so … yeah."

Undervest, coat, utility vest. Simple, straight-forward, functional. Put the badge on the front and it even looks official. Then put one hoof in front of the other. Walking. Easy. Door. Handle, turn… pull. Simple.

Crescent slammed his hoof at the door, shutting it and holding it shut. “Mirror… please…” His voice was cracking as he spoke.”You- you’re right…”

She looked up at him blankly. "Did she say please? Moontwirl, before the end." Mirror wanted to stop, but it was just too convenient; all of a sudden, at the very end, he got it? No. Impossible. Which only left cynicism, manipulation, a need for an audience, which was even worse than just being disregarded. "Did she? Please, Crescent, please end it. Did she say that?"

He simply shook his head. “No. She would never let anyone break her.” He looked up, his eyes glassy and tear-filled. “Please Mirror, don’t leave me.”

"You are asking me to stay on a burning bridge. If you don't want to be left alone, come with me." You're being stupid, weak, sentimental. He doesn't mean it, he just doesn't want to be alone, that doesn't mean he wants you, you stupid foal. All he wants is an audience. Mirror laughed at herself, isn't that all anypony really wants, though? "I know it hurts, but you have to move. Will you?"

Crescent though quickly about it.Let her go and tell the others, they’re as good as gone. Go with her, I might see another one I care for perish. Might. Uncertainty is some time better than security. He removed his hoof from the door,dried his eyes and straightened up. “Okay then. You win, I’m coming with you.”

I tooold you. It has nothing to do with you. He's just giving in to your whimsical impulses, performing an indulgence. Mirror frowned, that's not … necessarily what he meant. He could have meant that he saw the point of my argument. She shook her head, now that's just downright sad. You are grasping at straws. "W-when you told me about this, it didn't even occur to me to doubt what you were saying. I-I trusted implicitly that you were telling me the truth as you understood it…" Breathe in, hold, and exhale. Then do it over, repeat as necessary.

"I don't want to 'win'. I don't want to be holding a contest. I thought this was a cooperative partnership." She couldn't look him in the eye. "I'm not looking to berate you, or to emotionally manipulate you, or to 'win' by any sort of secondary path." The floor, it was made of wood. "You… oh, but this is going to sound petty. You hurt my feelings when you couldn't even listen to what I was saying. I lashed out, and that was bad of me, I know that. But… I don't know how to get out of this hole now. I can't… I don't know how to trust in you now, to trust your reasons." There were still streaks of soot from when she'd stumbled in, was it only last night? She should try to scrub them out now, before they were completely ground in. That was a thing ponies did, wasn't it?

"Newspapers and vinegar. No, wait, I think that's for windows. What does one use on wood? Oranges? Or some kind of oil. Ugh, probably linseed oil. I hate that stuff. Smells terrible, and I'm pretty sure it's poisonous. Paper towels, maybe? I mean, soap is supposed to get stuff clean, so how could it be bad for the floor? Soap breaks up dirt. Wood isn't dirt, so it shouldn't break up wood… I think." She hadn't realized she was talking aloud. She really wanted to see if a paper towel would make a difference, but it would be rude to just walk away. So she continued to stare at the floor.

Crescent looked at the floor as well. He hadn’t noticed the soot before but now it was pretty obvious. “I- I think just water is enough.” He used his magic to fetch a rag, soak it and bring it over to try to wash the spot away. At first, it seemed to just make thing worse but then it faded before going away completely. “There, better.”

Mirror glanced at the unicorn, as he admired the newly clean patch of floor. "I… uh, I bet there's some kind of stupid metaphor in that, about …. about cleaning up messes." She felt sick, almost feverish. Too hot, too cold, like the room was spinning.

“One could apply a metaphor to anything, nowadays. Most things are a mess, but we still have to try to keep what we can in order.” He put the rag back.

"Yeah, but… there's a priority to some messes, over others." She traced a hoof over the clean floor. "Suppose I'd been running around cleaning the floor while I was still coated in ash and grease. Every time I took a step to get a towel, there'd be a new stain to deal with, and even if I went at it long enough to clean my hooves off residually… I'd still be a mess everywhere else."

She looked up, "Dirty marks on the floor are unpleasant, and not something that should be left around forever, but some stuff is even more of a mess, and needs to be cleaned up first. Sources… you get rid of the sources before moving on to the individual messes." Mirror tilted her head to one side and then the other. "Nah, I still don't see a useful lesson in there."

Crescent sighed, looking where the spot had been. “I dunno, the lesson stands pretty clear to me on that one, a very important lesson I’d say. One I should try using myself.”

"So, uh, you mentioned the fire. What were you doing during that time?" Talking. Talking was good, better than silence.

“I, ehm… I was with the volunteer group for fire rescue. Seemed like a good place for me to be useful. Managed to save a mare and a filly together with another group of ponies trapped in a burning shop. The mother ran in when she found out her foal was trapped upstairs so I went in after them alone. Luckily, I managed to get them both out in time.” He paused. “It felt good, helping someone like that. I guess that’s what I wanted to say.”

Mirror nodded, balances shifting. "So you got them out… and what happened then?"

“Well I carried them back out to safety. I had to use a semi-secure shield spell, a very thin spell which gave us a green dome to take off the worst of the heat. The mother had passed out from it all. Luckily we came out as the shield gave in and we got help from someone carrying a bucket.”

"Wait, came out where?"

Crescent had to think. “I’m not sure, we came out by a trench somewhere.”

Mirror's mind ran through the very sketchy map of her memories involving the agricultural region's farmhouses and the firebreak. "You… walked all the way… through the fire… carrying a mother and child…"

“Well the filly managed to stay on-”

"Shh… we're done with words." Mirror pressed the unicorn back into his seat with a gentle hoof on his muzzle, soon replaced with her own. After a moment's awkward negotiation, four forehooves wrapped two torsos in a deep hug, and who white wings cocooned the pair, blocking out the rest of the world.

…

Timestamp: Early Afternoon
Location: PUR

---

The sun shone brightly through the jagged breaches of the room, warming Spitfire's aching wings. She’d taken one look at the chair down in their rooms and left it behind, yet a week of not using her wings at all reminded her that they needed a little bit more stretching before they would be ready for any races.

The PUR was located in one of the buildings next to the town hall; at least, what was left of it. There were a token number of ponies trying to clean up the debris; but, in light of recent events, there was very little work being performed in the city. Soarin’ had done well enough cleaning up what he could in this building, but giant holes in a number of the rooms nearest the blast rendered them unsuitable for living.

Still, the scene reminded Spitfire of stories depicting an Equestria after a nuclear fallout. The decimated building sprawled before her; a dusty floor beneath her hooves and dangling plaster all contributed to the decrepit environment.

Spitfire closed her eyes and hung her head, trying to banish the image from her mind. She hoped to Celestia that the entire city wouldn’t crumble around her; or that she would be powerless to do anything about it again.

A crackling to her right, the sound of plaster breaking underhoof, reminded Spitfire she wasn’t alone. She sighed heavily as a wing descended on her withers. “This is just the start, Soarin’. How much uglier is this going to get before the end, I wonder? Is there anything anypony can do to stop it, let alone me, or you?”

Soarin’ shrugged. “Probably not. It’s probably going to get a hell of a lot worse, too. But I think we’ll make it through.”

Cloudbuilder spoke up from where he was clearing some rubble. “I don’t think any one pony can stop this... This whole thing started when some ponies gathered together to start something. It will take a concentrated effort to end it, as well.” He grunted, using his aching hooves to smash a block into smaller pieces that would be easier to remove and carry.

His hooves were cracked and sore from the fire yesterday. Not that he would ever let Spitfire know. He needed to prove that he was worth keeping around, especially after his confession last night. Now that she knew about his feelings, she wouldn’t trust him. He needed to earn his keep.

He frowned, remembering her little freak out session this morning. She had held him tightly, not letting go for hours. He didn’t know just what had happened, but certainly wasn’t going to complain. If Spitfire needed him –if she needed anything– he was going to deliver.

Cloudbuilder eyed Soarin’. The nosey stallion had been hanging around all morning. While Soarin’ seemed to be occupying his time with describing the PUR to them, Cloudbuilder had heard from some other ponies that Soarin’ kissed Spitfire on the cheek during the fire. The mere thought of that made him rankle, Spitfire was his! He deserved her. He had been by her side for weeks now, had taken care of her, and nursed her back to health. He hadn’t abandoned her after years of Wonderbolt activity.

He glared at Soarin’. So far, the older stallion hadn’t made any moves on his Spitfire, but Cloudbuilder planned to keep a careful eye on him.

“What do we do next, Spitfire?” he asked the mare.

Spitfire glanced back at the decimated building before her. “I don’t know.” She turned away and made for the door. “But we keep working until I figure out just what to do.”

Cloudbuilder grunted, finally managing to break up the block, dumping the pieces into a nearby cart. “Well, we’ve got two... uh, factions, I guess, to worry about. Though, the PRF have been quiet for awhile. They’re planning something.”

“They’re always planning something,” Soarin’ commented. “We just need to be ready for when they actually do something. Personally, I’d suggest that we take it easy for a bit. We’ve worked pretty hard lately. That’s not to say that we should do nothing. I think we should still be on guard, but we can at least rest for a while.”

Spitfire turned away from the stallions. Her eyes searching the rubble below for the consolation she so desperately wanted. An easy way out, a clear path forward... anything. She was conflicted. One mistake had broken her body and landed her in a cell for two weeks, what would happen the next time? But she couldn’t just walk away, she’d taken a vow to a princess no less. To just, walk away... It violated all the morals and ideals that she stood for, that she believed in.

“We should go after them,” Cloudbuilder argued. “We know they make their home in the tunnels. We also know they favor the Industrial Hex. We can find them and bring them down.” His hoof crashed against a bit of rubble.

“Don't be an idiot.” Soarin’ scolded Cloudbuilder placatingly. “There’s only three of us, and who knows how many of them. Not to mention the fact that we’re all still tired from the firefight. We need to recover. Nopony will be doing much good as we are now. It’s better for us to get a little more rest.”

“Three of us? We’ve got the entire PUR behind us. And after that fire, there will be even more ponies willing to follow us. Just say the word, Spits, and we can search the tunnels. At least find their new base.”

Spitfire’s ear flicked, her attention drawn back to the arguing stallions. She didn’t know what to say. Before she could formulate a response, Soarin’ continued.

“I’m afraid I can’t join you on that just yet.” The stallion shrugged. “I’m old and tired, and I need a couple more days of rest to recover before I can do something like that. Not to mention the ponies that fire left homeless. I have to go take care of them, and help them settle into the PUR.”

“All of the PUR?” Cloudbuilder countered. “Can’t at least some of them come along? If we can figure out where the PRF is operating out of, we’ll have a huge advantage.”

“You’ll have to convince them yourself. I’m not gonna force them to do anything.”

Deciding the stallion’s weren’t doing her any favors for her nerves, Spitfire launched herself out of the broken room. The craggy remains of the town hall quickly receded as she glided across the square. Much of the debris that had been blasted clear of the building had been gathered up, allowing Spitfire to imagine that nothing had happened; for a moment she could pretend the town hall behind her was still in one piece.

Her meandering glide took her to the stage where it had all started. Apparently nopony found it worth their time to disassemble the wooden construction. How long ago had the Mayor made his speech?

She touched down, her hooves thudding dully on the rough pine planks. If she breathed deep, she could just catch their unique scent. Pine never really lost all its smell, no matter how long it sat there. Her eyes trailed the complex rings and knots in the wood, revealing nothing more than aged dirt.

Spitfire sighed. There was nothing for it, she just needed to keep going. A pony didn’t quit their job just because they hit a bump in the road. Eventually things would pick back up again, she had to believe that. Until then she’d just have to slog through the monotony and her own qualms.

Cloudbuilder landed on the stage, standing next to Spitfire. “Hey, Spits? You okay?” His hoof found its way to her shoulder, resting lightly there.

“Cloudbuilder,” Spitfire groused, shrugging the hoof off. She said nothing further, content to continue her analysis of the stage floor.

“Hey, I’m here for you, Spits.” Cloudbuilder scuffed a hoof on the wooden boards. His mind wandered to last night, when she had held him close for hours. Maybe it was under specific circumstances, but he couldn’t help but think that they had made a perfect fit together.

“Feeling a little claustrophobic in there?” Soarin’ asked, having taken the time to walk out after his friend. “Or was it our argument? Sorry if it was.”

“Hmm? No, not claustrophobic,” Cloudbuilder replied. “Just nervous about what’s to come. There’s too many unknowns.”

Spitfire gave Cloudbuilder a scathing glance. “I made a promise. I took an oath, to Princess Twilight, years ago. I said I’d do my best to keep the peace in her city.” Turning, Spitfire looked back across the wreckage of the square. “Well, I tried, and I failed. In just a few days I lost control, got kidnapped, and beaten. Because of that, the city has become a battleground.”

“Then keep your oath. Take the city back. It won’t be today, but we can do it.” Cloudbuilder rebutted.

“What the buck do you think I’ve been trying to do, Cloudbuilder?” Spitfire snapped, shaking her head. “I just don’t know anymore. Anything I do to take back the city will only land it more and more in the hooves of others!”

Cloudbuilder shrugged. “Then we keep trying. I’d say that we just let the PRF and the Consortion take each other out, but...” His ear flattened. “Well, they hurt too many innocent ponies.”

“Far too many innocent ponies have been hurt,” Soarin’ agreed quietly. “But I agree with Cloudbuilder. We should keep trying.”

“Come on, Spits.” Cloudbuilder clapped her shoulder with a hoof. “There’s you and me and Soarin’, and probably Mirror – plus all these ponies here at the PUR. Together, we can do something.”

Spitfire rolled her eyes and jabbed Cloudbuilder in the chest. “Listen, scrub, I didn’t say I was stopping. I just don’t want to make another decision that blows up in my face.”

“We all do that sometimes, Spits. I made one when I decided to join the PRF.” He smiled at her, before dropping it quickly. “But at the same time, if I hadn’t done that, then I wouldn’t be here, with you. There’s gotta be a—”

Raising a hoof, Spitfire interrupted, “Just stop, right now, Cloudbuilder. If I hadn’t let you loose then I might not have been dumb enough to let myself get nabbed. Now I’ve lost any influence I might have had because I tried to take risks.”

Spitfire sighed and turned away. “My question is: How can I go forward with my agenda when I know others will suffer for it? What if my agenda no longer appeals to the best interest of the ponies around me? What if they’re right?

“The problem with this whole situation is probably the only thing that’s going to help me win it.” Spitfire shook her head as she continued. “I’m not so naive as to think ponies follow me for any reason other than that I was a Wonderbolt. A mare who was part of a group that stands for ‘all things honorable and chivalrous’ is all they know. What if I can’t keep doing that?”

“We keep moving forward, Spits, because it’s all we can do.” Cloudbuilder sat down, looking out at the wreckage. “Otherwise, we’re just sitting here, doing nothing. And, in my opinion, that makes us just as bad as them. Maybe even worse, since we’re in a position to actually do something.”

“That’s just it!” Spitfire cried. “We’re not in a position to do anything! I don’t know what to do! When I was a captain of the Wonderbolts, I knew how to get past problems because I knew what had to be done.

“But now?” Spitfire grimaced. “I’ve never had a problem that didn’t have a clear path forward. Sure, some may have been tough, but at least I’ve always  known what the right thing to do was.”

“You still know what to do. You’ve always known what to do. This emotional funk of yours is just making you see things that aren’t there.” Cloudbuilder tried to encourage Spitfire, though he wasn’t sure it was working too well.

“This isn’t an emotional funk!” Spitfire shouted into Cloudbuilder’s face. “I screwed up and ponies got hurt for it!” She turned away and sat on the edge of the stage. “What is it that makes you so damn sure I’m qualified to keep calling the shots?”

“Because if you don’t, then who the buck will? You’re the most qualified pony out there!” Cloudbuilder fired back.

Spitfire glanced at Soarin’, then turned back to the blue pegasus. “I don’t care who,” she said bluntly. “Soarin’ seems to have been doing a good enough job by staying here on the peripherals and letting the fanatics duke it out.”

“Yet Soarin’ and I agreed that we can’t just let them duke it out. Too many others get caught. We have to stop them. Maybe it’s Soarin’, maybe it’s you, but somepony has to be in charge. I think you’re the best pony for the job.

“You keep talking about your Wonderbolt days, so use that. You’ve been a Captain almost all your damn life, between the ‘Bolts and the police. What’s keeping you from being Captain of the PUR? Maybe that’s what’s wrong with you right now, you need something familiar in your life. Well then, step up, Spitfire. Be the pony that other ponies know you to be. Be the pony that I know you to be.

“This. This emotional thing you’re going through? It’s fine, we all breakdown sometime. And you can breakdown all you want. You just have to get back on your hooves and keep moving. And Spits? If you can’t pull yourself up, then it’s up to the pony next to you to do it.”

Cloudbuilder stopped ranting, his breathing coming in deep heaves. He stared at Spitfire, awaiting her reaction, and really hoping he hadn’t just messed things up.

“We have to stop them, huh?” Spitfire deadpanned. She hadn’t moved from her spot on the edge of the stage, not bothering to look back at Cloudbuilder. “What a brilliantly motivational reason.”

“Dammit, Spitfire. Is that the only thing I said that you heard?”

“No.” Spitfire got up, advancing on Cloudbuilder, scowling as she repeated herself. “No, it wasn’t. I heard a whole lot of horseshit about being something you’d rather not from a pony who can’t even—”

“Can’t even what?” Cloudbuilder interrupted. “Can’t even motivate somepony? Can’t even tie his own bootlaces? Can’t even do anything right? Well you’re damn right. I’ve lived in this city since it opened, fifteen years ago.”

Cloudbuilder turned, pointing to his cutie mark. “You wanna know what this means? I’ll tell you, it’s not slaving away for twelve hours a day for practically no pay, in front of some machine. I’m an artist. I make things with clouds. Ever since I left home, struck out on my own, it has been nothing but failure after failure.

“So say what you have to say, Spits. Get it all out of your system. And when you’re done, you can go back to doing what it is you do best: being a leader. Fixing things. Ponies like me break it, ponies like you fix it.”

“That’s all you ponies are good for, isn’t it? Breaking shit?” Spitfire snarled. “If you expect me to follow behind you with a bucket and a mop, then you’ve got another thing coming.” Turning, Spitfire unfurled her wings and prepared to take off. “Maybe I’ll just leave you all to clean up after yourselves for once; maybe then you’ll stop grappling for each other’s throats.”

With a hop on her three uninjured legs, Spitfire took to the air and winged her way off between the buildings, leaving the two stallions behind.

Cloudbuilder watched her wing away for a moment before spreading his own wings and taking a few steps forward.

A voice cut into the pegasus’ tumultuous thoughts. “Let her go, Cloudbuilder.”

“Somepony needs to knock some sense into her,” he responded, his voice almost growling in frustration. Soarin’ could swear he heard the other stallion’s teeth grinding together.

Soarin’ shook his head. “She’s a mare. Yes, I know it’s hard to believe, but she’s got feelings and emotions just like all the rest of them. Trust me, she doesn’t want, or need, you around right now.”

“She needs to get her head on straight.”

“She’s been through a lot, CB.” Soarin’ put a hoof on Cloudbuilder’s shoulder. “You’re not going to get her to straighten anything up until she’s had a chance to cool off.”

At the touch of the hoof on his shoulder, all the vitality seemed to drain out of Cloudbuilder. His hind legs collapsed beneath him as his forelegs shook. He put his head in his hooves. “Oh Celestia... What did I just do?”

---

Spitfire pumped her wings furiously, barely aware of the burn in her joints as she sped up the main street leading away from the stage. Her unruly thoughts roiled through her mind, preventing her from thinking of anything in particular.

Narrowly avoiding collision with a building as the street ended, Spitfire turned sharply and began flying up a narrower road. There was no direction to her flight, but even in her current state she realized it wouldn’t be wise to stray too far from the PUR headquarters.

She was mad, but at what? At whom? Cloudbuilder seemed the obvious choice, he was such a bootlick. It was sickening, watching him follow her around like a leach and hang on her every word. Then, out of nowhere, he lectures her, of all ponies, that she can’t just ‘give up’.

Spitfire scowled. No, that wasn’t why she was mad. She’d dealt with ponies like Cloudbuilder before. Normally the kind of devotion he was displaying would be flattering, not to mention useful for her goals. But now, it was just irritating that that he continued to gallop blindly forward even when she slowed. Who was he to know what she was fighting for, or believed in, was right?

Ponies fighting for a cause knew what they were fighting for, but the real conviction came from knowing [/i]why[/i] they fought. A pony could fight for almost any cause until they were questioned on why they fought for it. Then, once the various arguments had been worked through, said pony would become convicted of their belief and fight with redoubled efforts, or would fall into any number of varying negative or opposite actions.

No, Spitfire was mad at herself. When her convictions had been tested and she’d been forced to ask why, she found her own arguments lacking. When the time came for her oath to be tested, her reasons to keep it cracked.

Why should she fight to keep peace between ponies who didn’t want it in the first place? It was quickly not becoming worth risking herself to stand between ponies who weren’t willing to act civilized. These thoughts felt toxic to Spitfire, but she couldn’t shake them which infuriated her even more.

Were promises to princesses really not that important to her? What kind of mare was she if she couldn’t even be sure of the things she fought for? What if— What if the things she thought were the right things, really weren’t? Those things being: Princess Twilight’s request, Spitfire’s own moral sense of right and wrong, and the city’s own law.

What if she was wrong to keep fighting against the PRF? Would she be wrong to let Silverhoof continue his own crusade? Was she wrong to have her own crusade? There were so many questions that Spitfire simply couldn’t answer anymore. Things had been so clear when she was on top of her own little world. But, she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Once again, lost in her thoughts and barreling through the air, Spitfire didn’t see the wall until too late. Twisting her body and scrunching her eyes, she let her hooves take the impact on the hard plaster,leaving three dents. She hissed in pain as her injured limb was jarred, but as she fell away and drifted to the ground the throb faded.

She blew a relieved sigh as she tested her weight on her broken leg and it didn’t twinge any more than normal. Looking around, she was surprised to find herself standing behind the PUR. To her right was the back wall of the town hall, seemingly untouched from this viewpoint. To her left were more buildings and narrow alleys. This deep in the heart of the Admin hex, buildings were packed in as close as they could be.

With a heavy sigh, Spitfire took wing again and carefully made her way around to the front of the building. She still hadn’t come to any conclusion for her predicament, but the flying was proving to be a little hazardous. It would be best to simply go to her cot and work out her problems there, a nap sounded quite nice.

As she entered through the main doors, she was met with a rush of activity. The main lobby had always been bustling with some activity, but there were ponies standing crowded around everywhere. As Spitfire pushed through the crowd she recognized a few PUR members near the front desk organizing ponies into any free rooms they had and passing out essential items such as blankets and water.

Spitfire stood in the middle of it all, soaking in the mood of the ponies around her. There was anger certainly, anger about being evicted. Other emotions, frustration, indignation, uncertainty, all rippled through the crowd as ponies whispered and chatted amongst themselves. But, there was also relief and gratitude, ponies happy that they still had a place to go.

Eventually tearing her eyes away from a pony passing out blankets, Spitfire’s eyes landed on a young stallion sitting off against the wall. He shifted slightly, revealing a ruffled wing. Spitfire sighed, there were too many innocent pegasi being turned out of their homes.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary about the pony, but his stance struck a chord somewhere inside the fiery mare. He was slouching, the kind that bespoke fatigue or despair. But even that didn’t compare to the dead look in his eyes as he stared listlessly at those around him. Everything in his demeanor expressed how Spitfire herself was feeling.

He was alone, which called attention to the bruising on one side of his muzzle. One of his eyes nearly swollen shut and sporting a healthy coloring of purple. As she continued to look, she noticed that his fur, while naturally brown, was caked in dirt and grime. Spitfire felt her frustration ooze away at the pitiful sight. Surely this wasn’t how she looked, was it?

Casting her eyes around, they eventually lighted on a pony in a kitchenette offset from the lobby. He was doling out buckets of water filled from a large spigot and lining them up on the counters for ponies to take. Moving through the mass of ponies, she approached the counter and snagged herself a bucket and a washcloth from a pile left thoughtfully next to it.

Slowly, the bucket gripped in her teeth, Spitfire approached the listless stallion. He didn’t register her when she placed the bucket near his hooves.

Spitfire nudged his hoof. “Hey.”

The stallion started before squinting apprehensively up, then at the bucket resting between them. “H-hey,” he mumbled.

The fiery mare dropped the cloth into the water and swished it around, then offered it to the pegasus. “You look like trash.”

The stallion frowned and snatched the cloth from Spitfire. “Gee, thanks. At least nopony likes to beat garbage,” he snarked bitterly.

“Hey, relax, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Spitfire sat down next to the stallion. “I’m just trying to help.”

“How noble of you.” the stallion mumbled, burying his bruised face in the damp cloth. “There’s not any point to it, though.”

Spitfire furrowed her brow. “How do you mean?”

The young pegasus slowly turned to meet her gaze. “I mean I’ve got no home, and probably no livelihood to return to. I’d be better off just making a break for the ground now.”

Spitfire winced, the words echoing across her own conscience. But, hearing it from this young pegasus felt so... so wrong!

“Y-you.” Spitfire paused and gulped. “That’s such a cowardly thought, kid. You’ve got an entire life ahead of you and at the first sign of trouble you’d abandon everything you’ve worked for?”

“I’m abandoning nothing!” The pegasus snapped. “That implies I actually still have something— which I don’t! I have nothing left to abandon.”

Spitfire opened her mouth to tell this pegasus that he still had something, anything, worth fighting for. After a moment she closed her mouth dumbly. What was she even thinking? This pony felt like he had lost everything. How was she any different?

She felt compelled to disagree with the pegasus. Spitfire had worked so hard to keep Ravaalon a place worth living in and had dedicated years of service so that ponies like this one could have a life to do with as they pleased.

“So you’d just give up.” Spitfire deadpanned. “None of what you build for yourself is worth salvaging?”

“So what, I’m just supposed to start all over? That seven years of hard work never even happened? ‘Oh you lost everything, but it’s okay, because you can just start over again.’” The stallion’s voice was vehement, but soft enough that only Spitfire heard him.

“Well it’s sure as Celestia better than just up and dying!” Spitfire retaliated. “Losing your livelihood doesn’t mean you lost your life too!”

“And why not? I have no way to make bits again. I am homeless and broke! If you have some magical solution, I’d love to hear about it!” The venom was being replaced with sarcasm by the stallion.

“Look around you.” Spitfire gestured to the bustling ponies around them. “If you need a new job, the PUR is capable and willing to sustain you until that happens.”

The stallion snorted. “So the PUR is going to be around after this crisis? It can support me even after things have settled down? Or is this some sort of stalling tactic?”

“Nopony knows anything at this point,” Spitfire responded, frowning. “But that shouldn’t be any reason for you to give up now.”

“Give up now? What is there to give up? How can I give up on nothing? What, who, am I giving up on? There’s nopony counting on me to do anything. If I were to fly down to the surface now, nopony would miss me.”

What was there to give up? In her mind, Spitfire saw herself taking the oath of service in front of the princess. She saw Soarin’, still trying to manage a PUR, yet he looked soulless. She thought about what Cloudbuilder would do if she decided to disappear.

It wasn’t about the life she had been living before. If she was honest with herself, there could have been plenty of more enjoyable things she could have done than be an officer. It wasn’t about being able to return to a life of parking tickets and endless reports.

No, what she would be giving up was trust and respect. If she left now, she would never be able to look any of the ponies she knew in the face again. Without her physical and moral support, Soarin’ and Cloudbuilder would crumble. This pony sitting before her wouldn’t have anypony to keep them from giving up.

Gazing at the pegasus, Spitfire realized that her life was dedicated to the ponies around her. It always had been, it was what completed her, even when she was a Wonderbolt. The only thing that was going to make her happy was to see this pony back up on his hooves, living his life in the city and fulfilling his dreams.

“We all still have something,” Spitfire said firmly, she wasn’t sure if she meant it for the pegasus or not. “Something worth fighting for.”

“Oh please,” the young stallion groaned. “This isn’t a fairytale, no princess is going to show up and slay the dragon for us. If even the Princesses won’t do anything, why should we?”

Spitfire threw up a hoof. “So, because the princess isn’t going to take you by your hoof, you’re just going to throw in the towel?”

The stallion threw up his forehooves. “And why not? They save the day every other time.”

“This isn’t about a national equestrian crisis!” Spitfire cried. “This is about you continuing with your life! Your life without the princess holding your hoof!”

“What life!? Haven’t you been listening? I’ve got nothing left!” The stallion nearly knocked over the bucket of water in his anger. “Tell me. Tell me what I have left,” he ranted. “Tell me what there is to live for now.”

“Why don’t you explain to me why you would rather die?” Spitfire responded heatedly, her voice continuing to rise as she verbally lashed the pegasus. “Because don’t think for a second things will be easier on the ground, there’s a reason this city is apart from Equestria proper, you know.

“If you go to the ground now, there will be nopony who knows you, or will be willing to give some random pegasus help. You think the racism is bad here?” Spitfire paused, letting her question hang. She continued in a forcibly calmed tone, “The PUR is willing to give you a chance at reclaiming what you lost, but only if you’re willing to take it.”

“So what, I get a cot and a blanket in some random barracks? Plus a pat on the back and a job well done? Clear out some rubble? What about bits? I need bits to survive, to buy food and have a place to live.”

"Can you eat a bit? Will a bit hug you and tell you tomorrow is going to be better? Will a bit care if you're lying dead in an alleyway somewhere? Will a bit even buy you food when everypony is starving and food is being hoarded? Bits are a tool of civilization, and that's made of ponies."

“What’s your point?” the stallion grumbled. He seemed suddenly aware of the ponies gathering around them, drawn by their shouting.

"You asked what you have left in this city?" Spitfire grinned, her wings sweeping– she flinched. "Nnngh, you have these ponies. And that's more than you did before, if you were as all alone as you're telling me." She held a hoof out, "And they need you, just as much as you need them."

“How? How do they need me? I’m useless right now.”

“You’re not useless!” Spitfire yelled. “You see that unicorn over there?”

Spitfire grabbed the pegasus and turned him to face across the room to where the unfortunate soul was nursing a shattered horn.

“Or him?” She pointed again at a pegasus who was having a foreleg set in a cast. “Those ponies are useless. At least until a time that they can function again. But you? You could be over there helping, comforting. You could be clearing floorspace for those ponies to rest, or delivering food, or repairing the rooms damaged by the bomb blast! Not wallowing in your own self pity!”

Spitfire pointed her hoof at the stallion. “What’s your special talent?” she asked. “Make use of it! Or, better yet, empty this water bucket and fill it with something halfway decent and take it to the ponies still stuck outside.”

The stallion looked into the bucket, seeing his reflection in the dirty water. “I am... was, a businesspony. I did accounting for a shop in the Residential Hex. At least, until the unicorn owner threw me out, and the cops “requisitioned” my apartment.”
"Good, you should be familiar with resource management then. Get those thirsty ponies a drink and then find somepony who looks like they know what they're doing and tell them what you told me."

He stood up, gripping the bucket in his mouth. “Alright, I can do that.” He headed outside, through the mostly dispersed crowd.

---

Mirage was busy. Word of her first performance had spread, and now both ponies and foals were crowding around, trying to get her to tell another story.

“I’m sorry, but I really must rest,” she kept saying. “It’s been a long day so far.” As she scanned the crowd around her, she spotted something interesting. Cloudbuilder was wandering around. Alone. For once, Spitfire wasn’t clinging to him like some lovesick filly.
.
‘Ugh, the way she latches onto him. It’s sickening. No wonder he joined her faction if she’s just banging him senseless.‘ If it hadn’t been forbidden by Sunny, she’d just stab him now and watch him bleed out.

‘Well, she never said I couldn’t talk to him. Besides, if I can seduce him, he could be a great source of information, if he’s as deep into Spitfire as I think he is.’

Giving excuses that sounded pathetic even to her ears, she made her way through the crowd of ponies. “Excuse me!” she called out. Cloudbuilder stopped, his shoulders hunched.

“Yes? Can I help you?” he asked her. The ponies around them seemed to melt away, dispersing.

Mirage scuffled a hoof against the floor. “Um, are you Cloudbuilder?”

He took a small step back, seeing hesitant. “Well... Yes, I am. Who are you?”

She offered him a hoof. “My name’s Mirage. Soarin’ brought me here today. He said I should look for you, to find work. Some way to make myself useful. Something about...” She put a hoof to her chin, pretending to think for a moment. “Something about moving rubble and me being a unicorn.” She re-extended her hoof, waiting for him.

Slowly, he extended his hoof, grasping hers. “Cloudbuilder, though you seem to already know that.”

She blushed. “Yes, sorry about calling you out like that. I didn’t know what else to do.”

He dropped her hoof. “It’s okay. There’s not much else you could’ve done. And if Soarin’ told you to speak with me, then he must’ve had a good reason to do so.”

Mirage brightened up. “Oh yes! He told me to speak with you, about helping you and Spitfire!” A small lie, Soarin’ had said nothing of the sort. Though it was unlikely Cloudbuilder would go ask the other stallion. “Though he failed to mention how handsome you are.” She smirked inwardly, testing him a little. Sure she may be bandaged and slightly disheveled, but she knew she was still very good looking.

Cloudbuilder blushed. “Erm... thanks...” Silence descended upon them. “By the way, I’m looking for Spitfire. Have you seen her in the last half hour?”

Mirage raised an eyebrow. Did he not know where she was? “I, uh... I thought you’d know where she was.”

The pegasus looked down at the floor. “Yeah, we had an argument and she flew off. I want to find her in order to apologize.”

‘Trouble in paradise? Oh this is too good. I can use this,’ she thought. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I haven’t seen her in well over an hour.”

At that moment, a familiar voice came drifting across the room. “If you go to the ground now, there will be nopony who knows you, or will be willing to give some random pegasus help.” Spitfire’s voice echoed around the lobby.

Mirage’s ears turned towards the sound. “If I’m not mistaken, that sounds like her.”

Cloudbuilder looked ashamed. “Yeah, that’s her. I better go see what’s going on.” He set off through the crowd, Mirage following. This was her chance to get close to them both.

They found Spitfire standing in front of a pegasus stallion. The mare was gesturing with her wings, berating him. “Oh,” Cloudbuilder said, pushing his way to the front of the crowd, Mirage standing next to him. “She seems to have gotten into another argument.”

“This happen a lot?” Mirage asked.

“From time to time,” he answered. “Mostly directed at me,” he said with a wince as Spitfire really unloaded on the poor stallion.

‘Hmm, certainly looks like trouble in Paradise. I can exploit this,’ Mirage thought. Her mind raced with ways to split up Spitfire and Cloudbuilder. If they were separate, she could isolate one of them. Or better yet, seduce Cloudbuilder herself and deliver him to Sunny, to play with as she saw fit.

As the stallion and Spitfire argued, Cloudbuilder tried his best to disperse the crowd. Surprisingly, they seemed to listen to him. Whatever had happened, Cloudbuilder had earned the respect of these ponies, Mirage noted.

By the time the stallion had walked off, carrying a bucket, the crowd was pretty much gone, only a couple stubborn ponies hanging around. Cloudbuilder hesitantly walking up to Spitfire, his entire body saying that he’d rather be doing anything else. “Spits? You ok?” he asked.

Spitfire jerked and spun around to face Cloudbuilder. She frowned, but it took her a moment to find her voice. “No, I’m not,” she finally said. “I— I need some time to think, Cloudbuilder. Alone.”

With that the fiery pegasus marched towards the stairs and towards the room Soarin’ afforded them in the basement.

Cloudbuilder watched her leave, breathing a sigh of relief. “Well, she’s doing better.”

“What do you mean,” Mirage asked, still standing next to him.

“Well, she’s not trying to rip my head off anymore. That’s a plus.”

‘Definitely trouble in paradise,’ Mirage thought. “That is a good thing,” she agreed with him. “Come on, let’s give her some room for now. I bet she’ll be fine by dinnertime.”

Cloudbuilder stared at the other mare. “I dunno. She can really hold a grudge.”

“And if she were holding a grudge, she wouldn’t even have spoken to you. Take it from another mare, she’s gonna be fine.” Mirage wrapped a foreleg around Cloudbuilder’s neck, trying desperately to not shudder at the vile contact. “Come on, let’s go make ourselves useful.”

The stallion let himself be led off by the mare. “Ok. I know where we can go. There’s still some rubble that needs moving, and having a unicorn like yourself around will be good.”

Mirage just nodded. As much as she hated Cloudbuilder, she needed him for the moment. Once he had outlived his usefulness, she’d slip her knife into his lungs and toss him over the side of the city. Until then, she would suffer his presence.

Written with the assistance of: Sasha Nein and The Lazy Ginger Changeling, because those two are the shit!

Timestamp: July 30th, 3:34 pm, Day After the Agricultural Hex Fire
Location: PUR Headquarters, Administrative Hex

---

The huge edifice had clearly seen better days. Along with having suffered residual damage from the bombing and having to be abandoned, the continuous state of emergency since then had meant nopony had the time or the energy to clear the area and either repair or demolish the huge stone block of a building.

At least, not until Soarin' had claimed the building and moved the PUR in. There was an impressively large pile of debris and garbage, and ponies continued to add more to the pile all the time as they cleared out rooms, took down walls in danger of collapse or in need of replacement, and gathered up pieces of the shattered edifice. Looking at the evidence of their hard effort only made realizing how much work remained all the more depressing.

None of this registered in Mirror's mind as she and Crescent Sunrise approached the PUR complex. "I … think this used to be a bank, or something?" Mirror offered, waving her hoof in a vague fashion.

“Well it could’ve fooled me. If I had to guess my first would be an abandoned cinema or something like that.” Crescent scanned the outer structure of the place.

"Really?" Mirror chuckled, "You guys must have had some epically big movie theaters." It was nice to smile again. "So, you ready to do this?" It was a stupid question to ask, but she couldn't help it.

He took a deep breath and looked at her. “I’m still a bit unsure about this but yeah, I’m ready.”

"Ok." The pegasus puffed her cheeks and blew out the air. She looked up at the orange stallion. "Thank you for agreeing to do this, it really means a lot to me." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before he could reply.

Crescent fought not to let the embarrassment show too much. “W-well you were right, I just had a hard time seeing straight…” He kicked a piece of rubble off to the side.

"Yeahhh, well I got a little carried away, too. I'm just glad…" She really didn't know what to say. "I'm really glad I got to know you."

There were some ten or twelve ponies out front, clearing debris away or just resting on the steps. The pair received curious glances, but not so much as a question as they headed inside. The main hall was huge, and stripped of insulation, echoed like a cave. Its main virtue was that inside such a large building it remained relatively cool, even on these unforgivingly scorching summer days.

Groups of ponies huddled together, some for companionship, and some seemed to be discussing various matters. There wasn't exactly a reception desk, and every pony who looked like they might know their way around also looked very, very busy.

It took three tries to get a pony to stop long enough to question them.
"Hi, excuse me, we're trying…"
"Hello, can you tell us …."
"Wait, please, I really need to get a message to either Soarin' or Spitfire."

The graying pegasus mare rolled her eyes, "You'n half the city I'm sure, dear. If you absolutely must talk to Soarin', you should try his office, on the second floor."

Mirror's ears perked up, "Really? Thank you so much." She smiled, hugging Crescent. She turned back to the old mare, "So how do we…" but the pony had already made it halfway down the hall.

The white pegasus shrugged, "I guess we look for stairs?"

“Well let’s first try to find a staircase which isn’t completely broken or in a thousand pieces. Seems like it’s a pegasus only area so far…” Crescent went around and searched for functioning steps.

"Sorry," Mirror rubbed the back of her head, "vertical access isn't really the first thing we think about." She trotted after, keeping an eye out, in case any of the stairways were hiding.

Their big break came when it turned out that half of the main stairway in the back half of the building was still intact, and had been mostly cleared so that heavy tools and supplies could be carried to the second floor. Finding the office of the PUR's leader turned out to be fairly straightforward, because there were only three restored rooms on the second floor – and only one of them had a cardboard sign tacked over the doorway reading "Soarin' ".

“I’m guessing it’s here,” he said and pushed the door open.

The room could technically be called "empty," though that would be doing the collected paperwork and impedimenta sprawled over every horizontal surface a great disservice. Suffice to say there were no ponies in residence.

Mirror sniffed, detecting the distinct scent of aged carry-out. "Yeah, only Soarin' would be able to amass this much junk so quickly."

Crescent sighed. “Well, guess we will have to try finding the elusive Spitfire then, though who knows where she might-”

"What're you kids doing in there?" A pegasus grumbled from the doorway, making Mirror jump, her forehooves grasping around Crescent's neck.

“Ehm… looking for Soarin’,” Crescent coughed as Mirror’s grip was a bit too tight. “You seen him?”

"Well, he doesn't spend much time around here, but you only missed him by about ten minutes. Think he said something about taking a flight to clear his head." The pony shrugged, picking his broom back up.

“I know that feeling.” He sent a clear signal for Mirror to loosen her grasp on his neck.

Mirror loosened her grip, but stuck to the unicorn. "Have you seen Spitfire, then?"

The pony nodded, looking like he'd swallowed something sour. "Sure, not five minutes ago she walked up out'a nowhere and starts telling me I can't…" He trailed off, frowning. "Yeah, I think she went out into the courtyard… east side."



They followed the disgruntled pegasus' directions down the hall and out a pair of double doors. A large lobby greeted them. Whatever it had been before, it was now repurposed to be the central hub of the PUR. Ponies ran to and fro like agitated ants on some task or another.

It definitely looked as though it could have been a bank or something like that at some point in time. The floors had remnants of gloss on them, but with all the traffic recently they were muddied and scuffed to an extreme. The walls were in slightly better shape, but the dust from the recent explosion had gotten to them as well. Crescent and Mirror ignored this and headed toward the center where a blue pegasus and an orange pony–

"C'mon, that's got to be them!" Mirror cried, grabbing the unicorn by the shoulder and trying to physically haul him. The laws of physics took a dim view of this effort

“Yeah, it might be, Mirror, but you don’t have to push.” He said, having to take a step over as to not trip as she pounced him out of excitement. “Let’s talk to them.” Mirror was already way ahead of him as she headed after what she thought was Spitfire.

"Spitfire!" Mirror shouted, her hooves leaving the ground as she flew the last several paces. Her grin faltered as she got a better look at the orange… unicorn? The pale pegasus pony pulled back, trying not to crash into the strange mare she had just accosted.

Cloudbuilder heard the familiar voice. “Mirror?” he asked aloud, turning to look in the direction the voice had come from.

Mirage glanced over at him. “Somepony you know?”

Mirror's eyebrows knotted themselves, "Cloudbuilder? Where's Spitfire?" The unicorn's words caught up, "Um, hello?" she spoke unsure what to make of the new pony, 'who totally is not an orange pegasus and how the hay did I make that mistake?'

Crescent managed to make his way through the crowd to Mirror. “Hey, Mirror, mind waiting a bit on me too? Wasn’t it Spitfire after all?”

Mirror's looked back, ducking her head sheepishly. "Sorry, babe. I just feel like we're close to actually getting something done, you know?"

“Yeah, I understand.” He gave her a warm smile. “Just try not to let it spin you around too much, you tend to go off on a tangent when you get excited.”

"Yeah, I do that a lot." She trotted back and lay a wing over his shoulder, "I promise I won't try to leave you behind." Mirror turned an eye back to the other unicorn, "Now I just wish I knew who that was."

Mirage offered her hoof to the very white pegasus. It was only when she looked the other mare in the eye did she see that she was an albino. “Hi. I’m Mirage,” she greeted.

"Mirror Shine." The pegasus shook the proffered hoof. "Am I… uh, interrupting something?"

Cloudbuilder pawed the ground with a hoof. “Well, we might have had an argument, Spits and I. She headed down to the basement. I think.”

“This place has a basement?” Crescent looked around at the damaged walls and ruined floor. “Well seeing how this is an old bank of sorts I’m guessing that’s the vault.”

Mirror arched an eyebrow, "And whose vault would that be?"

“Well, it does have one,” Cloudbuilder answered, ignoring the mare. “I’d know,” he muttered to himself. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop himself thinking about last night, the night he and Spitfire had together.

"So I take it she's still…" the white mare struggled for words, "Um, upset?"

“Yes,” he responded. “I’d avoid her, for a bit. She needs to cool down before seeing anypony.” He looked at Mirror. “Why? What’s so important?”

“Well… it’s a long story but I’ll try to make it short. After the big fire I headed off to try to track down some potential lower goons for the PRF and see if they knew something. They seemed to know something but one of them ran off and I followed…”

The next part would probably be more difficult to explain. “He ran into a warehouse filled with magitech. He tipped over a shelf with it to stop me but it had a worse effect than he thought.” He threw a quick look around. Mirror, recognizing what came next, rubbed his shoulders.

“Lately I had what I thought was my deceased marefriend’s voice in my head, a sort of guilty conscience if you will. It turned out it was a creature called Myst Mare, a being that lives on magic and sucks it out of everything with the slightest spark of magic, hiding in my head. After it revealed itself, I must have blacked out since I woke up in a room where I met somepony called Monty, I believe. Monty Casino. He was clearly up to no good but he wanted me to give a message to Spitfire.”

Cloudbuilder blinked, sharing a look with Mirage. “Okay, this would be worth disturbing her for. Mirage, do you mind putting off our rubble clearing in favor of meeting Spitfire?”

Mirage could barely contain her grin. “Of course not.

The albino pegasus was torn, she was curious who this new unicorn was, but didn't want to pry, especially on the off chance that Cloudbuilder was actually starting to do something other than follow Spitfire around like a combination lost puppy and world weary caretaker. She spent several moments distracted by the image of a diamond dog in a butler's uniform...

Mirage spoke up. “Cloud, are we gonna go tell this to Spitfire?”

Mirror eyed the other mare, curious. She certainly seemed to be familiar with Cloudbuilder… but there was no physical contact… She tried to casually back up and brush up against Crescent, her analysis of another pony making her self-conscious. "Um, if you two are busy…" She tried to remember what Cloudbuilder had said the pair had been up to. "Clearing… rubble." Mirror was unsure how to tell the rubble from the cobblestones, both were loose and spread around.

“Yeah, we can probably find the way if you just point it out,” Crescent said, not sure if it would be better to disturb Spitfire in whatever she was doing alone, or with a group. “Wouldn’t want to take you away from the… rubble moving.”

“Oh we’re not that busy,” Mirage said, she rubbed against Cloudbuilder, causing the pegasus to shudder at the touch. “We’ll take you to Spitfire.” Inside, she was nearly vomiting at having to touch Cloudbuilder. But if this pegasus harlot wanted to get in the way, then she’d insert herself into the equation.

Cloudbuilder stared at Mirage for a moment. She was acting odd, but her coat was so soft against his. It felt almost as good as Spitfire’s against his. But they still needed a unicorn around, so he couldn’t drive her off, no matter how disturbing she was being. “Yes, but we should be careful. Let me go first.”

Leading the group into the basement, Cloudbuilder stopped in front of the room in which he and Spitfire had slept the previous night. Unbidden, the sensation of Spitfire holding him sprung forth into his mind. “Here.”

Taking a deep breath, Cloudbuilder knocked on the door. “Spitfire, you in here?” Hearing no answer, he opened the door. “Spitfire?” he called into the room.

Crescent peaked in but saw no pony, even though he could hardly see anything in there. “Hmm… nope, empty. Though I wouldn’t imagine wanting to be in such a dark and confined area after what she has been- I mean…” He suddenly remembered Cloudbuilder had been with the PRF when they had held her captive. “She might have gone out for some air.”

Mirror shot Cloudbuilder an apologetic look, even as she internally acknowledged Crescent's point. "So… she's not here then." The pale pony sighed. "Great. Just great. She's not anywhere!" She stomped back up the stairs, muttering under her breath.

She was so far drawn into her own worries she didn't' notice the stallion until she ran into him. "Oohf, sorry, Oats, didn't see you there," She offered the former guard a hoof up, a wry smile of apology becoming a familiar expression for her.

Holland Oats rolled his eyes and started getting up, when his memory caught up. The klutzy new recruit who'd shown up a week before the pegasi walked off the force. His expression clouded as he tried to remember if he'd seen her around the PUR since Soarin' had led them here… and he couldn't. Then he remembered what had bothered him, the other day, a photo about increased City Guard patrols in the industrial sector. There'd been a uniformed pony in the picture with wings… a turncoat.

"What they hay are you doing here, scab?" He snarled, jerking his hoof away and nearly falling over as he adjusted his balance.

"Huh?" was Mirror's brilliant reply.

Oats stopped, eyes widening, "I bet you're here to spy on us for that bootlicker of a dandy they got running the Guard now, aren't you?"

Crescent came forward and placed a firm hoof on the guy’s chest. “Watch it there, she has worked harder on finding the truth here than anyone else here.”

The tan pegasus snorted, glaring at the hoof on his barrel and its owner.

"W-wh… Hey! Hold on you two," Mirror squeaked in indignance. "We can't just give up the Guard forever because of Silverhoof, there are still good ponies in the ranks."

Their loud voices began drawing ponies over to see what the commotion was about. It might not be anything important, but when all you had to do was clear rubble and haul debris, anything could be entertaining.

By the time the others had made it back upstairs, there were already a number of raised voices. Mirror kept trying to explain her plans, the angrier members of the crowd threw out accusations, and the more level ponies kept shouting for everypony to shut up until they knew what was going on… which did not help as much as they might have imagined.

The mob started crowding them in but Crescent held them at a distance and tried getting them to back off by angry shouts and pushing. He wouldn’t want to resort to drawing his sword as it would not be a sign of good will to show weapons in the camp, but if he had to….

Cloudbuilder stamped his hoof loudly. “Hey!” he shouted. “There will be none of that!” He levelled his gaze at each pony around him. “Mirror has proven herself a valuable asset to the PUR. She is a dedicated pony, and a friend. You will treat her with respect.”

“Oh yea? Who has she proved herself to, you?” Holland Oats interjected hotly, stepping forward. “Last I checked, being Spitfire’s shadow doesn’t mean your word has any weight here.”

"Hey man, he was there helping in the fire, where were you?" somepony else shouted. In the distance someone make a comment about 'toasted oats' but nopony laughed.

"What're you talking about, I was there when Spitfire hauled the punk in on the day of the bombing!" Came another voice.

Cloudbuilder growled. “Dammit! Yes, I was a part of the bombing. I was also a part of the PRF.”

Loud jeers met this remark, Oats smirked triumphantly, but Cloudbuilder wasn’t finished.

“But!” Cloudbuilder emphasized. “Spitfire saved me from doing something stupid. She saved me, just as she saved many of you. While Spitfire was coordinating the fire rescue, Mirror, Soarin’, and myself were out there, in the thick of it. I was the last pony out of the fire, and nearly died for that.”

Mirage looked around at the surrounding ponies. Now was a good time to get a feel for just how respected Spitfire and Cloudbuilder were within this group. She slipped into the group of ponies, walking amongst them and feeling them out.

"Look, I realize you guys are all feeling kinda bad, and you've got lots of reasons to be upset, but this isn't helping anypony." Mirror tried to step back into the argument, but found she couldn't be heard over the shouts of the growing crowd. 'This is bad.'

“Shut! Up!” Cloudbuilder shouted, being as loud as he could. He glared at the crowd. “You may not like me. You may hate me. But Celestia dammit, you will respect Spitfire and everything she has done to save you all.”

Oats stepped up to Cloudbuilder and gave him a hard shove. “You aren’t allowed to throw Spitfire’s name around like a shield!” The large stallion moved forward and opened his mouth again, but whatever else he said was lost as the crowd roared and milled forward.

This was bad, really bad. It looked like Cloudbuilder had the crowd somewhat on his side but this Oats-guy wasn’t so easy. Crescent stepped between Cloud and Oats and stuck the hilt of his weapon in his chest, a third of the blade exposed. “I warn you, back the fuck off!”

Mirage stalked through the crowd. Perhaps she was wrong, and they didn’t respect Cloudbuilder as much as she suspected. If he was losing control this quickly, then she needed to revise her opinion of him. Perhaps screwing Spitfire didn’t provide him as much benefit as even he thought.

From what she was able to catch, more of the crowd was with Cloudbuilder, rather than against him. Without anypony else stepping in, he would eventually win this confrontation. So he didn’t have the control over the PUR that she originally thought, but for whatever reason, possibly having to do with his actions during the fire yesterday, she’d have to ask around about that, they did respect him.

Suddenly, Spitfire was there. The bright orange pegasus divebombed from the high ceiling above and landed spectacularly in front of Cloudbuilder and Holland Oats. In the sudden, shocked silence she roared, “Enough!!”

The crowd stilled immediately, staring at Spitfire, her wings spread, in stunned silence.

“Spits,” Cloudbuilder greeted.

The fiery mare cast a scathing glance back at the blue pegasus before turning back and addressing the crowd. “You all should be ashamed! Acting like a bunch of hooligans! We’re all on the same team here, the ‘stay alive and safe’ team.

“Anypony that wants to make a mess of things can leave now. Go join the PRF for all I care; but while you’re here, nopony bitches about what somepony else did yesterday or a month ago.” Spitfire turned to leave, but paused. “If anypony has a problem with that, they can take it up with Soarin’, or my hooves,” she finished, taking wing and flapping back up to the vaulted ceiling.

Ponies very quickly found other places to be. Holland wandered away, seeming as dazed as if he had head-checked an airship, but not making eye contact with anypony.

It was several seconds before Mirror could do anything except blink. She almost jumped when Crescent rubbed her shoulder, but simply smiled and tried to get her heart to stop beating like a frightened jackrabbit. She nuzzled the unicorn by way of thanks, but something was still bothering her. There was something they were supposed to be doing… wasn't there?

Mirage watched Spitfire with a critical eye. She could see why Sunny feared the mare. Her ability to control a crowd was amazing. She simply swept in and took control. There were few ponies in the city who could do what Spitfire just had.

The mare rejoined Cloudbuilder. “Wow, she’s awesome, Cloudbuilder.”

The pegasus nodded. “Yeah. She knows what she’s doing.”

"Spitfire…" Mirror echoed, frowning. Her eyes widened, and she grabbed the sides of Crescent's face, "Spitfire!" she shouted, more loudly than the situation called for.

"Sh-shouldn' we–"

"We've got to catch up to her before she leaves again!" Mirror exclaimed.

“Well let’s go then,“ Crescent gestured to the two pegasi. “Quick, before we lose her.”

Cloudbuilder opened his wings, surging forwards. “Spits! We need to talk to you.”

"Ohmigosh, it's terrible, horrible, it might just be the end of the world – and I'm really not using hyperbole here, it's really really really bad." Mirror naturally trailed behind, nowhere near the wingpower of the two athletic pegasi.

Spitfire dropped down onto one of the large rafters and began pacing away from the two incoming pegasi, muttering to herself and shaking her head. Cloudbuilder landed behind her with Mirror arrive moments later. He stepped forward hesitantly, hearing his own name along with a few choice swears.

“Spits? You’re gonna wanna listen to what Mirror has to say.” He walked up to her, setting a hoof on her shoulder to let her know he was behind her.

Heaving a sigh, Spitfire pinched the bridge of her nose with a hoof. She then swiveled expertly on the narrow beam and faced the two pegasi. “What?”

"Th-there's a magitech battery factory that came out of Crescent's head when he was in a Myst Mare fighting some delivery ponies who were disguised as PRF thugs when he woke up and the guy gave him his sword back except it was pretending to be his dead marefriend and he fell unconscious named Carl-something but he'll give some of it to hungry ponies if you go talk to …" Mirror's brain belatedly caught up with the rest of her. "Um… Crescent found out about some serious stuff, and you should talk to him about it. I… might be a little confused right now?"

“Would you like to start over?” Spitfire deadpanned.

"Y-yeah, more than anything… but I mean, what could I do differently if I still didn't know any better?"

Spitfire raised an eyebrow and cocked her head. “It’s not like it could be any worse.”

The albine mare took several deep breaths, pressing a hoof to her barrel and sweeping it away from her. "There is a creature, it feeds on magical energy… mostly from ponies, but it seems the thing can also eat the magic that powers our machines, too. It was living in Crescent's head, and now it's in a magic battery warehouse in the Industrial District. It's… I, look, you really will have to ask him for details, but I believe him, and I think this is too big for just a few ponies to deal with…"

She looked up at the orange pegasus with wide pleading eyes, "I just don't know what to do… I mean, if we can't get in to speak with Princess Twilight when the city is burning down around our ears, how can we hope to warn her about this Myst thing? I- I think we're on our own now."

Spitfire sighed, rolled her eyes and frowned all at the same time. “I guess I— We should go talk to Crescent then.”

---

Crescent's eyes wandered to the orange unicorn. "So, your name was … er, Mirage, right?" He frowned, feeling a little unsure of a name like that, and ashamed of himself for even thinking like that at the same time. Instead he pushed that from his mind and tried to smile, "How did you end up roped into all of this?"

"I'm sorry, are you talking to me?" Mirage sniffed. "Because I thought your job here was to be a walking sound record for your marefriend's freakout sessions."

Crescent's cheeks reddened, "W-we're not… I mean…,"

The mare blinked, 'bingo.' "Sun and Moon, you are stablemates." She put a hoof in front of her muzzle as she laughed.

The unicorn stallion scowled, trying to stand up straighter, "Look, if you don't want to talk to me, that's fine, but you don't need to be rude about–"

"Oh relax," Mirage chuckled. "I'm giving you a hard time, and I'm sorry if I upset you… But everypony is being so serious, I'm starting to wonder if somepony has snuck a constipation aid into the water supply." She thought something over, "So tell me–" and that was when the orange pegasus swooped down in a manner Mirage was resigned to becoming accustomed to.

Spitfire landed, sighing at the residual ache in her wingtips. Recovery had always been her least favorite part of injuries. "Alright, Crescent, what exactly is going on?"

The sword pony crooked an eyebrow, "Well, from what I heard, Mirror pretty much covered it. What else do you need?"

"Details! This sounds like a buncha gibberish to me," Spitfire growled. "What the buck is this Myst-thing, and why should I care?"

Crescent visibly shivered. "Ah, yes, the Myst Mare. It is a creature almost forgotten and comes from a time as far back as the Windigos. They are incorporeal spirits that feed on the essence of magic, using the energy to fuel its own existence. First it empties a being of magic, then it will start to drain their life essence." He frowned, thinking for a moment, "I … don't really know much about these … 'magitabs', but if they hold much in the way of magical energy, the Myst Mare in Ravaalon will soon become very dangerous indeed."

Spitfire stared at Crescent. “So then, if it’s such a big deal, why don’t I know about this Myst Mare thing?”

"Mostly because they were contained to one town when they first appeared after being gone for two thousand years… aside from being able to catch a ride by inhabiting the mind of an unsuspecting unicorn." His eyes lowered and unpleasant memories clamored for attention, but he shook them off. "A Myst Mare is much like a ghost; intangible, seethrough white and looks like a pony, though it doesn’t pass through walls unless there’s a crack for it to slip through."

“Well, what does this thing want then?”

"To stay alive. Myst Mares are either spirits fused with magic or pure magic compressed into a semi-living creature, but we’re dealing with a pure magic based one luckily."

Mirage broke into the conversation. “Well, if it wanted to grow stronger, then it wouldn’t have to look any further than the magic-channeling systems across Ravaalon. They always have a ton of magic flowing through them. To a creature that eats magic, that would be like an all you can eat buffet, delivered right to you.”

“Nnnngh,” Spitfire groaned. “What was it you wanted me to do now?”

Crescent scratched the back of his head, "Er… I haven’t had time to recollect what I remember from my last encounter with one of these, laying this on your doorstep was Mirror's idea."

Spitfire narrowed her eyes. “Did you have a plan to take care of this?”

The unicorn shook his head slowly, "There really isn't much of a way for mortals to fight a creature like the Myst Mare at the moment. Eventually it would become so bad that Princess Twilight or one of the Sisters would be bound to notice."

“Well.” Spitfire’s features cleared. “That settles it. We keep our noses down and avoid the creature as best we can. We already have enough to deal with.”

“Not a good idea, if we let it grow out of control, it will go for the magitech which still keeps this place floating and I highly doubt even the sisters would be able to save the whole city then.”

Spitfire pinched the bridge of her snout. "So… intangible monster that we can't fight, but also can't afford to ignore…" She groaned, "What the hay am I supposed to do about this, ask it nicely to go away?"

“I never said we couldn’t fight it, it would just be difficult seeing the big supply of power it has tapped into. They are easier to deal with on a smaller basis but I still believe it’s something we can do before it’s too late.”

“I thought you just said you didn’t have a plan,” the fiery mare growled. “I’m pretty sure you also just said that we can’t fight it, but if it gets out of control the princesses will come. That sounds like a pretty darn good help beacon to me because we’re gonna need some divine intervention for more than just a Myst Mare here really soon.”

"I can brief you in on it later. Now, I do have one more bit of news, and this is something that deals with you, specifically."

Crescent winced as the pegasus's expression darkened again. “Why am I not surprised.”

"You see, after my encounter with the Myst Mare, I fell unconscious. A thug who had been following me from the local crime syndicate decided to drag my unconscious body back to their headquarters."

Crescent furrowed his eyebrows. "The boss I met was… unusually reasonable, nearly unctuous; he claims to have hoarded a great deal of food, and has this proposal to release much of it to the public. But only on the condition that you, Captain Spitfire, go and speak to him, personally. The stallion is clearly out of his mind, and frankly more disturbing than if he had worn his villany openly. There is no guarantee that he even has these food stores, nor that he would suddenly 'give' any of it away."

Spitfire contemplated the information for a moment. “Did he leave a way to contact him?”

The unicorn reached into his bag and pulled out a business card, "Yes, yes he did." There was something else, but it escaped the unicorn at the moment. He floated the card over

“Very well.” Spitfire nodded, taking the card and tucking it under a wing. “I’ll think on it.”

Crescent shrugged, and then the memory came back. "One thing, I do not think you should agree to let him use his magic near you, he claimed his special talent was something about determining the chances of an event."

Spitfire glanced at Mirror and Cloudbuilder. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, turning away.

Cloudbuilder was of two minds about this whole thing. If what the gangster stallion said was true, then they could desperately use that food. However, they also shouldn’t trust a gangster. At all. They brought nothing but trouble with them.

“I don’t think you should go to that meeting alone, Spitfire,” he cautioned. “A pony like that is nothing by trouble, no matter what they’re offering.”

Mirage nodded. “Yeah, he’s right. At the very least, you’d need another unicorn with you, to make sure there’s no magical funny business.”

“We’re not hurting that badly for food yet,” Spitfire responded. “If he wants to meet me that much then he’ll meet on my terms.”

“That still doesn’t sound all that safe.” Cloudbuilder put a hoof to his chin. “Take Mirage and I with you. She’s a unicorn and can keep an eye out for magic. The only other unicorn is Crescent, and this pony already knows him.”

Mirage could hardly believe what she was hearing. Cloudbuilder was already vouching for her in front of Spitfire? This was going to be easier than she anticipated.

“Did I say I was for sure meeting him?” Spitfire demanded. “We’ll decide if anypony goes later!” She glared at Cloudbuilder before turning her frown on Mirage. “Magic or no, we can squabble over visitation rights once we actually decide if there will be a meeting.

“This conversation is over. Go find something useful to do.” Spitfire waved a hoof dismissively.

Cloudbuilder turned towards the others. “Go on back to the lobby, I’ll meet you there.”

Mirage didn’t like the idea of leaving the two of them alone where she couldn’t listen in on the conversation. Then again, she also didn’t want to listen to the two of them having angry sex, either. So she nodded to Cloudbuilder and left the room.

Mirror flew down and left the room with Crescent, mostly because the alternative was smashing her head into a wall until this course of events made sense. Nopony was going to do anything. 'Well, at least we tried,' she consoled herself. Maybe things wouldn't turn out horribly, maybe the monster wouldn't eventually decide to try and eat the batteries powering the city's lift engines – and maybe the PRF would show up with a bunch of streamers and party hats and reveal the entire siege on the city had been one elaborate prank.

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