"Who are you ponies? I don't think I've ever met you. *GAASSSPP* Oh my gosh! I'm gonna have to have a WELCOM PARTY for you!" Pinkie screeches, a huge smile of anticipation spreading across her face.

"Nonono! That's quite alright, we prefer to keep a lower profile," the colt says quickly, shaking his hands in front of himself quickly in a deterring gesture. Pinkie's face falls, and she mutters something about not having enough fun. "Now then, on to business." He quickly spins in Rarity's direction, pinning her to the wall by her neck, holding his pistol against her forehead and snarling at her.

"Anything you want to say about how great your wonderful Führer is now?" he spits out the word Führer, lacing his words with heavy venom. A single horrified tear runs down Rarity's wide-eyed face as she utters several incoherent whimpers.

"I-I-I hate him," she manages after a moment, "T-true, I swore my s-services to h-h-him, b-but these ponies sh-showed me his wrongs."

"It's true." Nikola says, grunting in pain as he stands up, placing a bit of weight on his injured leg. The two look at him skeptically. "I'm opposed to the Reich just as much as you are, and I vouldn't give a hot damn if you killed an agent." He smiles, "But she isn't an agent. She may have been yesterday, but yesterday is yesterday."

The colt slowly lowers his pistol back to its holster, releasing Rarity, letting her fall to her knees and take in deep, raspy breaths.

"Well then, I suppose I should introduce us properly then," the colt starts, "We're Freedom Fighters. I'm Cloud Burst, and this is…"

"Cherry Busch, a pleasure to meet you," the mare finishes for him.

"Oh, the pleasure's all ours," Rarity says dignantly, giving a small courtesy, lady-like as always.

There are more hoofsteps going through the scarcely populated station, carrying in the silence. Looking out of the observation window, they see more Reich troopers coming into the war-scarred station. Just a single squad at most. Cloud chuckles, a slim smile spreading over his lips. He reaches into his rucksack, pulling out several lines of 1/5 inch metal chord. Walking across the room, he ties them securely to a metal support bar.

"Alright everypony, let's try something here," he says, his smirk deepening, handing each of the ponies a line. "We're gonna grab these and slide down the open window behind them, and see what we can do ."

He opens the large window, lowering his line over the ledge. He grips the chord tightly and vaults over the small wall, starting to slide down as the others lower their lines. He slows himself to a silent stop right behind the troops, who had taken up cover, waiting for the Reds to come back into their trap. The rest of the group lands without a sound, all of them drawing their weapons silently and creeping up behind the squad. With incredible speed, Cloud grabs the squad lead around the jaw, covering his mouth and holding the blade of his knife an inch away from the jugular of his enemy.

"Not a move! Turn around. Slowly." The shocked soldiers turn slowly, as instructed, placing their weapons on the cold ground and raising their arms above their heads.

"Okay, now you're gonna follow me. And you're not gonna try anything stupid, right?" They nod reluctantly as a group. Cloud motions forwards, and starts walking behind them, Cherry taking the lead as the group walks steadily to the Red station. When they are a few yards from the station, a Red soldier rushes out to meet them and take the prisoners to the detention center.

"Спасибо. Это очень- Guh!" The soldier falls to the ground, reaching for his pierced throat as he falls.

"SNIPER! Get DOWN!" A frightened shout calls from the defensive lines, and everypony dives for cover. Turning in the direction of the shot, everypony levels their weapons and looks for any movement, smoke, glare, anything that would indicate the location of the sniper. Another shot rings out, and another pony falls to the ground, slinking over the edge of his watchtower and hitting the ground with a dull thud. Still nothing. Weapons start to fire in the general direction of the sniper, spraying led in blind hope, symbolizing the metro itself, not knowing where, or even specifically what your target is, just firing in fear of the death that you know is coming sooner or later anyway. Just trying to preserve yourself for another few days, blind to the reality that is so visible, so clear, trying to somehow escape the fate your species shares, trying somehow to become immortal when all you're really doing is making yourself a more visible target for the unseen, unknown force of death.

---

Sorry it's so short and so late, but I have a good excuse... Well, okay, an excuse anyway. I've been pretty tired, what with band for twelve straight hours all last week. And writers block. But I felt bad having not updated, so I wanted to put SOMETHING up, no matter how short. Hopefully I'll post again next week, but until then, may the Force be with you.