“Okay, down you go,” grunts Rainbow Dash as she tries to lower Thunderlane on his bed.

She ends up dropping him instead and since only half of his body makes it on the mattress, he ends up bouncing off and landing on his back, barely making a sound with the thud of his body hitting the floor.

Rainbow Dash cringes and extends her hoof to help Thunderlane up. “You okay?”

“I've had worse,” replies the stallion, his head still swimming like a blissful fish in a sea of molasses.

Thunderlane crawls on his bed and turns on his back so his eyes are staring straight up at the ceiling. His back really loving the soft mattress and blanket while his head enjoys the cradling of his pillow. He honestly forgot how comfortable his bed was. Too bad the uneasy stomach from rotten chocolate milk is spoiling the comfort for him.

“Soooo,” drones Rainbow Dash.

Thunderlane looks at her with droopy eyes and sees his living rainbow roommate rubbing the back of her neck and staring at the ceiling.

“Rainbow?”

She looks at Thunderlane with an uneasy smile. “I guess now would be a good time to talk, huh?”

Thunderlane raises a brow. “About what?”

“About... well, today. You've been acting weird all day. Like, I made you breakfast and you freaked out, then you looked like you were going to sock that old guy, and the transfer thing happened, and now you got all mushy about not wanting to be alone.”

Thunderlane frowns and looks back at the ceiling, hooves folded across his chest and the sickness turning into disappointment.

“What's there to talk about?” he says moodily. “You said at the Card Casino you didn't think of me the same way I think of you, and the reason I'm acting 'weird' is because I'm being congratulated for doing my job and I don't get it.”

Thunderlane feels the bed shift and hears the springs squeak as Rainbow Dash climbs on, but he does not look away from his designated spot on the ceiling. He finds the blandness to be welcoming. Such simplicity with an all white ceiling. No crazy colors, no crazy days, no fake praises or convenient love. It is all there, just doing its job and loving it with no trouble or complications.

“Look, Thunderlane, we've known each other for a long time, but... well, to be honest, its not you, its me. I know I will disappoint you in some way and with me being an Element an all something bad could happen to me. By that I mean if somepony had some kind of vendetta against me for some reason and tried going after me you could get hurt. You're a good friend, and I don't want you to get hurt like Rumble because of me.”

Thunderlane's frown disappears and he turns his head, eyes widening and ears drooping when he sees the Element lying next to him, her glazed eyes staring straight at the headboard with tears rolling down her cheeks. Her ears are limp like her wings and her tail is tucked to her chin as she sniffles and tightens her body into an ashamed curl.

“What are you talking about?” says Thunderlane.

“What happened to Rumble was my fault,” says Rainbow Dash, her voice cracking and more tears flowing down her cheeks. “It was all my fault. The guys responsible for the bombing were after me, but they hurt you, Rumble, and everypony else but me.”

Thunderlane sits up, trying to find the right words to say, but all he can do is swallow as the Element shivers and whimpers in her ball.

“They hurt you and everypony else to get to me,” says Rainbow Dash, having to take wet breaths of air to continue speaking. “They-they knew that if I survived, then I would know they were after me and would hurt anypony to get to me, but if I died then I would be some unfortunate casualty. I lose both ways.”

Thunderlane gently puts his hoof on Rainbow Dash's shoulder, making her flinch. “Rainbow, look at me.”

Rainbow Dash sniffles and lifts her head up to look at him. Her beautiful purple eyes are stained with red around the edges, and the endless supply of tears soak her cheeks and eyes. Thunderlane looks at her, swallowing and gently lifting her up so she is eye to eye with him. He puts one of his hooves on her shoulder, and the other he uses to wipe her tears away.

“What happened was not your fault. I should have protected you and Rumble better, but-”

“But it is my fault! They were after me and if I didn't go near you in the first place Rumble wouldn't be in the hospital and nopony would be hurt!”

Thunderlane pulls Rainbow Dash in for a hug and rubs the back of her mane with loving strokes as she buries her face in his shoulder and hugs him tight.

“I'm sorry. I never- I never wanted you or Rumble hurt because of me.”

Thunderlane wrap his wings around her and holds her close while closing his eyes and resting his chin on her shoulder. He can feel every tremble and her ragged breaths and tears sliding down his neck.

“I'm sorry,” repeats Rainbow Dash.

Thunderlane remains silent, but continues stroking her back and keeps her wrapped lovingly in his wings. He lets her cry in his shoulder and neck, muffling her sobbing and shaking his body as she trembles in his embrace. She needs to let it out, and he will gladly be the shoulder she needs to cry on.

“I'll make this right,” says Thunderlane. “I'll make sure nopony will hurt you or Rumble ever again. I promise.”

Rainbow Dash sniffles and pulls away so she can look at him. Her sunken eyes have trouble focusing on him, but Thunderlane keeps his eyes locked on hers. Unlike the Element's vulnerable state, Thunderlane is the exact opposite. On the outside, at least. On the inside, his heart is thumping like a drummer boy struggling to remember the beats and his mouth has gone dry as his brain spews out an assortment of logical arguments against his plan.

“How?” says Rainbow Dash.

That question being one of them.

“Should it matter?” says Thunderlane.

That answer being one that his logical part of the brain is slapping him on the back of the head for.

“You don't know how you're going to do it, do you?” asks Rainbow Dash.

Thunderlane sighs and lowers his eyes. “No. No I don't. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I will.” He looks at Rainbow Dash again, keeping his golden eyes hard with determination. “I already almost lost you twice and Rumble is hospitalized because I couldn't keep you two safe. When we go to Bernese the ones responsible will be brought to justice, I'll make sure of it.”

Rainbow Dash searches Thunderlane's face. He knows she wants to say something by the way the gears turn behind her eyes and how her lips barely move, but she cannot find the words. He can sympathize with that. He does not know how many times he forgot how to talk over the course of his bland existence. That said, if Rainbow Dash has figured out what to say then she does not get a chance to say it because there are three loud, heavy knocks on the door that sound too much like shotgun blasts.

The ruckus makes Thunderlane jump and his heart spike, but when Fire Streak calls out to him and knocks again in the same set of three, his burst of anxiety switches to confusion. He quietly excuses himself, leaving Rainbow Dash to lay curled on the bed with her head plopped on a pillow, and he goes to the door. By the third round of knocks, he is cringing internally, wondering why no one has any patience, nowadays.

Thunderlane opens the door just in time to see Fire Streak -still in his uniform- getting ready to leave. That brings up the question of why the Lieutenant is at his apartment in the first place, and why he is looking like an antsy Charon coming to claim a soul. Fire Streak, being in mid step, stops and looks at Thunderlane in a mix of relief and surprise.

“Thunderlane, is Rainbow with you?” asks Fire Streak.

“Yes, sir,” says Thunderlane.

“Good.”

Fire Streak slides in and calls Rainbow Dash as Thunderlane closes the door and follows close behind. When Rainbow Dash comes out of Thunderlane's room, wiping her eyes, the Lieutenant stops and checks to make sure Thunderlane has not vanished from thin air. Seeing the two pegasi near him, he takes a breath to collect his thoughts.

“We're leaving for Bernese today,” says Fire Streak.

Rainbow Dash and Thunderlane both exchange confused looks, then look at Fire Streak.

“What about that week of preparation thing?” says Rainbow Dash.

Fire Streak shakes his head. “We don't have time for that. A CDA sub-station just got hit hard by the Gold Stars and killed a whole lot of guys trying to kill our informant. Plus, we got reports that Zäh Ausstecher was in Equestria for quite some time and is leaving for Bernese today. The Harmonious Light is going to Bernese is five hours and we're going to intercept him at Der Tal while they are still unpacking.“

Thunderlane scrunches his brow. “Wait, one of our targets was under our nose the whole time?”

Fire Streak nods. “Unfortunately. I'd like to see Fuller talk his way out of this one. Which reminds me, I want to talk to you. Alone.” He looks at Rainbow Dash and points at Thunderlane's bedroom. “Get dressed, Rainbow.”

Rainbow Dash nods and after she locks herself in the room, Fire Streak looks at Thunderlane.

“Is there something you want to tell me before we go to Bernese?” asks the Lieutenant.

“What do you mean, sir?” says Thunderlane uneasily.

“Zäh Ausstecher. What do you know about him?”

Thunderlane's chest tightens. “I don't know what you are talking about, sir.”

Fire Streak sighs heavily. “Thunderlane, you got two choices. You can either talk to me or you can have Spitfire shove her hoof so far up your ass that you become her sock puppet. Spitfire and I both saw that look you got when Ausstecher's face popped up on the screen. So, I'm going to ask you again. What do you know about Zäh Ausstecher?”

Thunderlane swallows and glances over his shoulder to look at his room. The door is still shut, but that does not mean Rainbow Dash is not eaves dropping. He looks at Fire Streak again, trying to keep himself steady, but the shakes still break him and his eyes have trouble focusing on his superior. He has to swallow again in order to speak.

“Nothing. I only saw him briefly in a dream, sir,” says Thunderlane quietly.

Fire Streak raises a brow skeptically. “A dream?”

Thunderlane nods, his eyes lowered and his hoof stuffing at his carpet, almost brushing against Tank in the process, who has made a slow trip up to see what is going on.

“It was just a dream, sir,” says Thunderlane. “I don't know why or how he got in there, but he was there.”

Fire Streak stares at Thunderlane for a few seconds, lips twisted to a frown, before he breathes through his nose and runs his hoof through his mane.

“Thunderlane,” begins Fire Streak, his tone dangerously calm, “that is probably one of the shittiest excuses I have ever heard. If I were in charge of this operation I would send in another team just because I know you are connected to Ausstecher, and you lying through your teeth about that bullshit dream excuse makes me question what respect you have for me or the chain of command.”

Thunderlane's ears droop and his wings go limp from the sting of his superior's words. “But, sir, with all due respect, it is true! I've been-”

Fire Streak's hoof snaps up. “Don't. Not another word. You got ten minutes to pack up and get dressed, and only ten minutes, are we clear?”

Thunderlane nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Get going.”

Thunderlane scampers away and slips in his room right as Rainbow Dash comes out, fully dressed in her lackluster way with her uniform damp and still having remnants of its alcohol stain. This earns her an unimpressed frown and brow raise from the Lieutenant.

“Dash, is there a reason you look like a hobo?” asks Fire Streak, either oblivious or uncaring of her defeated expression.

“Tank used my spare uniform as a bed,” replies Rainbow Dash lowly, adding with a nod and hoof aimed at the said pet, who is looking at her with a worried frown. “And somepony needs to watch him while I'm gone.”

Fire Streak looks at Tank.

Tank looks at Fire Streak.

Tank blinks.

Fire Streak sighs.

“What?” says Silver Lining, his shoulders slack and his eyes wide and his voice almost drowned out by the whirring gears, running motors, turning tires, clanking metal and shouting ponies.

Misty and Thunderlane are holding similar expressions, only their mouths are clamped shut. Between the two, Thunderlane is at a complete loss of words for his luck and the kind of roller coaster his day has been so far. Heck, he's starting to wonder if there has been some kind of time warping spell gone haywire with all the stuff that has been crammed in less than twenty four hours.

“You heard me,” says Fire Streak sternly, having to raise his voice so his subordinate can hear him over the chaos.

“...What?” repeats Silver Lining.

“You heard me,” says Fire Streak again, no change in his tone.

Silver Lining points at Thunderlane. “Why do I gotta watch him, though? Why can't I watch Rainbow? At least she's hot!”

Thunderlane and Misty both frown at Silver Lining, not that Thunderlane wants to be seen as a hot piece of flank by another guy, but still, he never thought of himself as ugly. Average at best, really.

Fire Streak rubs his brow. “I'm telling you to watch him because I have to do a last minute meet-up with Spitfire and Soarin.”

“But why I do I have to watch him?” whines Silver Lining.

Fire Streak stomps his hoof. “Because I'm ordering you to! Now stop complaining and watch Thunderlane until I get back!” He shakes his head, muttering under his breath as he trots away: “Goddess damn, freaking five year old, I swear.”

The three ponies watch their superior leave until he is out of ear shot, then Thunderlane looks at his saddlebag, which is holding his transfer paperwork while Silver Lining continues his pouting. Misty, on the other hand, merely looks at the scene in front of them, bored.

“Quite the ship, huh?” she drones.

Thunderlane looks away from his saddlebag to stare at the ship in front of them. The massive zeppelin is resting on a platform that looks like half a dozen pudgy, metal fingers gripping its sides. The armor plated, oblong shaped balloon with the Equestrian sun painted on it is being inspected by pegasi with clipboards, and on its four fins rests four, round engines, each one snug in a corner of where the fins meet. The engines bulge out and fuse with the long, cylindrical body that also has armor plating and a golden stripe running horizontally through the body, starting at the fins and stopping at the head. The observation deck has made its home as a half circle with thick glass and sturdy metal crisscrossing over it, like the longitude and latitude lines of a globe. Dotting its side is an entire row of canons with perches for pegasi to take off, and beneath the body is a platform that is allowing the traffic of mechanics and soldiers easy entrance and exit as they load and check the ship. Lastly, painted on the side in gold lettering is: The Harmonious Light.

It is a magnificent -and deafening- sight with all the vehicles and ponies swarming around the war-zeppelin, and Thunderlane finds himself lost in the commotion. His eyes follow a crane system sliding along the ceiling of their hangar, carrying massive boxes of ammunition with the guidance of pegasi and unicorns. The boxes are brought to a platform where a group of earth ponies are, and they carefully lower the box on a big furniture dolly and roll it out of view.

“That's supposed to be the fastest ship we got?” says Silver Lining skeptically.

Misty nods. “Yep.”

Silver Lining snorts. “How is something that big supposed to move fast?”

“The power of technology.”

“I don't trust it.”

“Then don't. But we're still going on it, unless you would rather fly across the ocean with all that gear."

“I'd rather not do this mission, period. This whole thing is stupid. We should be here, rounding up all the goats in Equestria to put in some kind of internment camp and forming a big wall of death or something to keep the others out.”

Seeing Silver Lining distracted, Thunderlane finds it as the perfect opportunity to sneak away and drop off his transfer paperwork. He looks around for only a moment before spotting a mailbox bolted into the wall, and he barely takes a pace towards it before a hoof slams on his back, stopping him cold.

“Where do you think you are going?” says Silver Lining.

Thunderlane sighs and points to the mailbox. “I'm dropping off some mail.”

“What kind of mail?”

Thunderlane frowns at his annoying teammate. “Personal. You don't have to follow me. I'm just going to the mailbox.”

“Ah, but I have my orders to watch you, so I will! Unblinking. Unwavering. In fact, I'll be watching you so hard that I will see every breath you take, every move you make, and every step you take. I'll be watching you until-”

“I think he gets it. Just let him drop off his mail,” says Misty, now walking to Thunderlane's side.

“What if its evil mail?” accuses Silver Lining.

“My mail is not evil. Its just some paperwork I have to turn in before we go,” says Thunderlane.

“That's exactly what an evil pony would say about his evil mail.”

Thunderlane's eye twitches and very uncomfortable ball of air rises in his throat that demands he screams his head off at Silver Lining for him being such a colossal idiot. He really cannot remember at any point in his time with his so-called team that he has shown any lack of loyalty, and with such a stupid statement, he really wants to knock some of Silver Lining's teeth out.

“Leave him alone, Silver,” says Misty, now putting her hoof on Thunderlane's shoulder and turning him to the mailbox. “Just ignore him and drop off your mail.”

“Easier said than done,” mutters Thunderlane.

Thunderlane walks towards the mailbox, stopping seconds later to look over his shoulder. Silver Lining has trailed him and stopped when he stopped. With the two looking at each other, the sniper puts his hoof to his eye and then points at Thunderlane, making the labeled rug of the group scrunch his brows.

“I'm watching you,” mouths Silver Lining.

Trying to keep his eyes on Silver Lining for as long as possible, Thunderlane turns around and resumes walking towards a mailbox bolted into the wall. It has the Equestrian Royal Guard seal on it with an envelop in its center and a slot on the top just big enough to fit the envelope the paperwork is in. When in front of the mailbox, he sits down and removes the said envelope from his saddle with his mouth, only to freeze from a hot breath and a disturbingly eager panting brushing up against his neck. His black fur stands, his ears droop and his gold eyes widen as he turns his head to get an up close view of Silver Lining's face.

“I'm still watching you,” whispers Silver Lining huskily.

He is quickly shoved away by Misty and forced to march back to their original spot, lightly protesting the entire way. Thunderlane, however, might as well have turned into a wide-eyed, terrified statue at that point.

In a conference room Fire Streak is standing next to Spitfire, who is looking down on Soarin. The Captain of the Royal Guard has taken a seat at the head of the long, glass table and is appearing to be drained off all his energy. Bags are under his watery eyes, his shoulders are slouching like his wings and his uniform is just barely passing acceptable in terms of appearance. It really is a despicable sight for Fire Streak, and he knows just by glancing at Spitfire that she really wants to rip him a new one for his lack of care. Soarin, however, is too tired to care.

“Remind me again why I should even consider your proposal,” says Soarin, rubbing his brow and his tone low and tired, but holding the hostility of honey badger.

“Sir, during the meeting Thunderlane has given me reason to believe that he has information about Ausstetcher,” says Fire Streak. “I confronted him very recently about this but has denied any connection with our target. I know he's lying.”

“You know because of his funny look?”

“Yes, sir. We can't risk it. We need to swap teams while we still can.”

Soarin shakes his head and adjusts his position, his jaw clenching from the pain that comes with it. “No, not going to happen.”

“Soarin, don't be a dumbass,” says Spitfire sharply, getting a razor sharp look from her superior. “Hurricane's expression said enough when he saw that picture, and just the minimal possibility of those two being connected can compromise everything.”

“Not to mention that Thunderlane's brother was crippled in the bombing at the Stadium,” adds Fire Streak. “That alone should have been enough to veto our role in this. If we act quickly enough we can swap out with another team or leave Thunderlane behind and put him in state custody for investigation until we get back.”

Soarin averts his eyes to the floor and rubs his brows, growling irritably. “That's not going to happen. I understand your concerns, truly, I do, but the plan is not changing and let me tell you why. First, I gave you detailed information that has to be kept with as little people as possible. Second, changing teams for a mission is not like changing shirts, both of you know this and are being dumb asses for thinking something of this magnitude can be changed like one. Thirdly, we do not have the time to cherry pick and every piece I have is in motion and you need every pony on your team for this. Besides, if we go through any alterations because Hurricane looked funny then we will be throwing away a perfect interception opportunity. Hell, maybe if we're lucky, Leinen will be there to greet Ausstecher and your mission will be over without having to hop all over Bernese.”

“How do we even know Ausstecher is going to Der Tal?” asks Fire Streak crossly.

Soarin glares at the Lieutenant. “My ally told me.”

Spitfire is about to say something about Soarin's claim, but the Captain brings his hoof up, keeping her quiet.

“We've wasted enough time with this meeting,” says Soarin sternly. “If you have to, use Hurricane in whatever ways you can against Ausstecher, but you are still going to Bernese and you are going to get me Ausstecher and Leinen, and that is final. Dismissed.”

The two verbally acknowledge him and bring their hooves up for a salute, which is halfheartedly returns, then they leave conference room, pissed. Soarin leaves behind them and hobbles off in the opposite direction, surrounded by unicorn guards that waited for him in the hallway. Fire Streak and Spitfire continue walking, and only when Soarin's group is out of earshot does the Lieutenant start talking.

“That went well,” says Fire Streak sourly, stopping by an observation window to see Silver Lining still guarding Thunderlane with way more enthusiasm than before.

Spitfire snorts and flaps her wings. “About as well as a stallion giving birth.”

“What are we going to do about Thunderlane?”

“You're still going to watch him. I don't trust Lining, and he's tied to Cloud, anyway. We'll need them as our sniper cover. I've never seen him talk to Dancer, and I think he'll be extra cautious around me, but if we put him with Dash she probably won't rat him out if she picks up something. You are the most level headed out of all of us and frankly I trust you more than Soarin or anypony else around here.”

Fire Streak nods, his chest puffing slightly and lips twisting to a proud smirk. “Good to know.” A hesitation later and his pride is gone and curiosity sets in as he looks at the Major. “You don't believe Thunderlane's dream excuse do you?”

Spitfire shakes her head. “I don't think dreaming is real. I've never had one, so, as far as I'm concerned, anything with dreams is bullshit.” She puts on her sunglasses and walks towards the exit. “Meet up with the others. I'm going to find Dash.”

In a small, dimly lit room, Rainbow Dash sits on a cushion in front of the monstrosity that is the military telephone. The fat headset covers her ears and the mouthpiece is equivalent to a rolled up sock in terms of appearance. She long gave up wondering how they manged to fit such a large block of wires, dials, wood and metal inside the room, considering that they are way too big for the doorway, no matter how it is turned. If there is a plus to it, it is that it has amazing reception.

“So, you'll get Tank then?” asks Rainbow Dash, her tone failing at being cool.

“Yes, I will get Tank and look over him while you are gone,” says Rarity on the other end. “Maybe I could make matching sweaters and hats for both of you.”

Rainbow Dash shakes her head, even though the idea is kind of amusing to her, but it will tarnish her image more than it already has been over the past few years. “Please don't do that.”

“Why not? It'll be adorable!”

“Because matching sweaters is not cool. Its nerdy.”

“Honestly, Rainbow Dash, I thought you outgrew your phobia of geek culture.”

“You thought wrong.”

There is silence on the other end, and Rainbow Dash feels somewhat guilty about snapping at her sort-of friend. Rarity is probably more like an acquaintance, now, since Rainbow Dash still has dormant hate for how her fellow Element treated Pinkie Pie after Spike's murder. That aside, Rainbow Dash did not call Rarity just to see if she can watch Tank, and she hopes that what time has passed has given her some answers about the forged note.

“So... Rarity...” begins Rainbow Dash slowly.

“Yes?”

“Did you prove that Fuller forged that note?”

Rainbow Dash can see Rarity cringe perfectly from the silence on the other end, and it sends a sickly feeling plunging in her gut.

“Rarity?”

“Rainbow Dash, darling, I... I barely started, but even then I haven't found anything that remotely points to Fuller. In fact, the note and samples are still in front of me, and from what I have found, the forger and Fuller's style appear to be completely different.”

Rainbow Dash slams her head against the blocky device, her tight throat managing a groan as growing tears burn her eyes. Of course Fuller would not forge the note. How could she be so stupid in thinking he would be that careless? He is the head of the Civilian Defense Agency! He didn't get that spot for being careless!

“Rainbow Dash?”

Rainbow Dash lifts her head, sniffles and wipes her maw with a quivering hoof. She then licks her lips and swallows a gulp of air before continuing in a weak, desperate voice. “Maybe he paid the forger.”

“Rainbow-”

“Maybe you can figure out who the forger is and you can make them squeal!”

“Rainbow, I don't know if I can.”

“Fuller is trying to kill me, Rarity!” cries Rainbow Dash, jabbing her hoof at her chest as if her friend is in front of her as terrified tears flow down her cheeks. “Do you understand? He's trying to kill me! Please, Rarity, I need you to do this for me! I need your help!”

Rarity takes a shaky breath after a moment of silence. “Okay, I'll help you. But I need Twilight's help as well. She has connections in the government that I'm sure we can use to help find the forger.”

Rainbow Dash shakes her head. “No, don't get Twilight involved any more than she already is. Actually, butt her out entirely. As far as we're concerned, she was right, I was wrong and Fuller is a saint and we're dropping it. Just please pick up Tank and whatever you do, do not talk to Fuller or anypony in the CDA. In fact, don't talk to anypony. Just get Tank and pretend that nothing is wrong while you figure out who the forger is. If you can find the forger we can finally nail Fuller.”

“But, with Twilight's help-”

“That egghead's been discorded by Fuller. She can't be trusted. Besides, if anypony in the government is dragged in then Fuller will probably get an idea of what's going on and do something horrible to stop it before it takes off. You have to do this on your own. Can you do that?”

“It is not an easy task that you're asking me to do... but I will try.”

Rainbow Dash breathes a small sigh of relief and manages a weak smile. “Thank you.”

“All I ask in return is that you come home. Can you do that for me? For all of your friends?”

A genuine smile grows and the Airmare chuckles and sniffles. “I can do that. Stay safe, Rarity.”

“I'll be fine. You're the one that needs to stay safe.”

“I'm always safe.”

Rarity hums skeptically on the other end, and Rainbow Dash chuckles again, but frowns when she looks at the clock hanging above the telephone. Seeing the time, she realizes that almost fifteen minutes has passed since she first called Rarity in asking her to take care of Tank. Originally, she called Pinkie Pie, just to say her farewells, but all she got was Joe and he told her that Pinkie Pie had already left to “see her cousin down South”, so she just left him a message instead. She hopes he can get in touch with Pinkie Pie and tell her that she said good bye. As for Twilight? All she got was voice mail, so she left her a message as well. Last on her list had been Rarity, and frankly she is glad that her high maintenance friend accepted pet sitting Tank, and there wasn't even an argument. She jumped on the chance as if it were a shiny diamond.

“Hey, Rarity, I gotta go, okay? If you leave right now you might be able to get to the base before they really start enforcing curfew,” says Rainbow Dash.

“Alright. When you come back, all of us will be waiting for you,” replies Rarity.

“Got it. Goodbye, Rarity.”

“Goodbye, Rainbow.”

Click.

That simple sound feels like a calling card for the universe to fall on Rainbow Dash's shoulders. She sighs and lowers her head as one hoof runs through her colorful mane and the other props the headset on its hook. A moment later, she steps out into the hallway expecting to see someone waiting to use the phone room. What she gets instead is Fuller standing by the wall in his dark blue blazer, looking directly at her. Her heart skips a beat and her hooves move on their own accord to back up as the warning bells deafen all senses and the thoughts buzzing in her head.

“What are you doing here!” demands Rainbow Dash.

“I came to wish you luck and to advise you to be careful on your mission,” replies Fuller nonchalantly.

Rainbow Dash ruffles her feathers. “I don't believe you.”

Fuller pulls away from the wall. “I know you think ill of me, but I think you need to take this moment of peace and quiet to reevaluate why you think of me as a villain. I know Twilight and myself see no justification in it.”

“Twilight doesn't know how you locked me in your office and pointed a gun at me!”

“That was last year. I am certain you would have forgiven me by now. Besides, the gun was empty, and I hate being spied on. It is a gross invasion of privacy.”

“And then there was that time you locked me in the bathroom and cornered me!”

“Again. Last year and privacy. You invaded my personal space and I invaded yours. It was an act of equivalent exchange that I thought would make you think twice about your actions. I was obviously mistaken.”

“Then you tried to kill me with a bomb!”

“No, a goat did.”

“You paid the goat!”

Fuller sighs. “Airmare Dash, have you thought about how these wild accusations have strained your friendships? You are digging in the wrong yard, but that has not stopped your real enemies from nearly killing Thunderlane and Rumble in exchange for your life.”

Rainbow Dash snarls and rams Fuller into the wall. He does not make a sound as his body collides with the brick and remains silent and apparently bored of her antics as her hoof crushes his neck and her tearing, furious eyes stare deep into his.

“You did that! You hurt them! You hurt Thunderlane and Rumble and all those people!” cries Rainbow Dash as the tears stream down her cheeks.

“I did no such thing. You did that with your carelessness,” says Fuller calmly. “The enemy is watching your every move and you go after the only pony who can protect you and your friends.”

Rainbow Dash pulls Fuller away from the wall for a split second just to slam him back into it, creating an echoing thud that is carried down the hall. Fuller remains unfazed, however, even when Rainbow Dash is screaming at his face, her face red and soaked in tears as her vicious snarl crumbles into deadly vulnerability.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You're the one! Its all you! You're doing this to me and my friends!” sobs Rainbow Dash angrily, her hot tears now splattering on her uniform like droplets of blood. “You may have everypony else fooled, but not me! I know what kind of monster you are and I swear to Celestia I will personally drag your ass to Tartarus for what you did to Rumble and Thunderlane!”

Fulle's horn lights up and a green tendril wraps around Rainbow Dash's hoof and traps her wings against her body, and she grunts and winces as the magical appendage twists and crushes her bone. She whimpers and crumbles to the floor, trying to pry her hoof free from the artificial tendril as Fuller towers over her. He then uses his magic to pull on the tie of her uniform, choking her as he drags her up on her hooves and slams her against the wall. Her ears ring and the back of her head throbs as she gulps for air tries to free herself by pushing her hooves against his chest and scrape against the floor, but she is not strong enough to combat his magic. He keeps dragging her up the wall until her hooves are off of the floor their noses are almost touching, forcing her to look down his eyes to see her terrified reflection in his emotionless gaze.

“Threatening a government official is illegal and dangerous, Airmare Dash. Especially when that threat is directed to somepony like me. You best be careful, because,” says Fuller, ignoring the Element's chokes and snaps for air. He gives her tie another hard tug, yanking what little air she has right out of her and forcing her to see her reflection in his eyes, but she cannot make a sound because her muzzle and nose is blocked by a green, misty tendril that wraps tightly around them. “There is no telling what consequences may come to you and your friends should I take your threat to heart. You already have enemies. Best not make more.”

A metallic door bangs open around the corner, and Fuller quickly drops Rainbow Dash to the floor and uses his magic to casually adjust her uniform and hat. Spitfire rounds the corner seconds later and raises a brow at the strange sight of Fuller doing his touch ups. However, despite the brave stare the Element is giving the CDA Director, her trembling legs, gulps of air and red, watery eyes give away plenty.

Spitfire's eyes zero in on the unicorn as she storms forward, wings expanding for a fight and muzzle twisted to a snarl. “What the hell are you doing to my soldier!”

“Major Temper, Airmare Dash threatened and assaulted me and I acted accordingly,” says Fuller coolly. He steps away from Rainbow Dash, just barely giving enough room for Spitfire to take a spot between the two. With the Major now between him and the Element of Loyalty, the Director starts towards the exit. “I best be tending to my other duties. Keep Dash safe in Bernese, Major. It will be a shame if something were to happen to her.”

With hostile eyes, the two pegasi wordlessly watch the Director leave, and after he rounds the corner and exits, as implied by the metallic thud of the door opening and shutting, they remain silent for a few more seconds. The silence is ended when Spitfire looks at Rainbow Dash, whose head is now lowered and her jaw is tight. In spite of her best efforts, tears still flow from her eyes and her lips tremble with her ragged breathing. She barely looks up when the Major places a hoof on her shoulder.

“You okay?” asks Spitfire.

Rainbow Dash nods quietly.

“You sure?”

Rainbow Dash sniffles, nods again and moves forward glaring hellfire straight ahead and silently vowing to kill Fuller when she gets back from Bernese. Even if she has to drag herself to the grave with him she will do it, and not just for her, but for the sake of all of her friends. Her only requests to the Higher Powers is that she lives long enough to end him and that her friends survive Fuller while she is gone.

Thunderlane sits on a the floor, staring at the metal container holding his suit. Specifically, his eyes are locked on HURRICANE stenciled in bold, black letters. The longer he stares at the metal box, the sharper his scowl becomes and the stronger his anxiety beats his heart.

His transfer paperwork has been stuffed in the base mailbox, but he hastily filled out the addresses needed after realizing the envelope had been blank. A little hunt for a pen, a quick scribble later, and a very unprofessional cramming of mail in a mailbox later, and Thunderlane has a feeling he might have done something stupid. Something such as misspelling his name, putting down the wrong address, forgetting his rank, or, Celestia forbid, mailing one of Rumble's porn comics. He really wishes he can rip open the mailbox, pull out the envelope and open it up just to make sure everything is as it should be, then put it all back as if nothing happened.

That said, if everything is right as a little voice in his head is trying to tell him, then he will be off of this team and be guarding a General in a short time. Not only is that an increased pay grade, but that means more traveling and better benefits and pensions. Sure, there is the increased responsibility of protecting a high ranking official, but it is certainly an honorable position that will surely make him a worthy Hurricane when he is done with the mission. Besides, he's done with Spitfire's team.

He is tired of being their rug. He is tired of fighting side by side with ponies who lack respect for him when he has done nothing but follow their orders. He has been a good soldier for them and for his father and mother, and all he gets in return is discontent, disappointment and his loyalty and respect questioned. He is sick of it, and when he is finally on Signal Horn's protection detail he can put it all behind him and move on to greener pastures.

Thunderlane looks away from his case when he spots Rainbow Dash and Spitfire approaching him, Silver Lining and Misty. His sour look melts to shock when he sees how shaken up his roommate is, and even Silver Lining's never ending mocking smile fades.

The Element can barely walk, much less look up. Her vibrant coat has paled, her ears and wings are sagging, and she is trembling so much that her knees are in a constant battle of buckling and keeping her up, and when she does sit down near her box, she falls like a brick and stares at the floor.

Thunderlane immediately gets up and trots to her side while Spitfire remains by her side. Fire Streak and Fleetfoot also walk up from seemingly out of nowhere with Silver Lining and Misty being the last to join. With all the ponies surrounding her, Rainbow Dash shrinks in her spot and dips her head lower.

Thunderlane sits next to her and puts his hoof on her shoulder. Her shakes vibrate his hoof and her lips tremble as droplets of tears fall to the metal floor.

“Rainbow, what happened?” says Thunderlane, having to keep his voice raised so she can hear him.

Rainbow Dash mumbles something that he cannot understand because of how low it is. The only reason he actually knows she had said anything is because he saw her lips move.

“I'm sorry, what was that?” asks Thunderlane, leaning in closer.

“I said nothing happened!” yells Rainbow Dash, practically blowing out the stallion's ear drum as her head snaps up to snarl at him. Thunderlane recoils and folds his ears back, and the Element sniffles and looks down. “Nothing happened. I'm fine.”

Fire Streak looks at Spitfire. “What happened?”

“I didn't see what happened, but an asshole shook her up bad in the hallway,” says Spitfire.

“Tell us what they looked like and we can kick his ass!” says Silver Lining, slamming his hooves together with an eager grin stretching across his muzzle.

“It was Director Fuller.”

Rainbow Dash stiffens, but Silver Lining raises a brow in confusion.

“Who?” asks the sniper.

Thunderlane sighs, unimpressed. “He's the director of the CDA.”

Silver Lining's face contorts to a disgusted frown and he gives his ruffled wings a hard flap. “So, he's got a fancy title, who gives a shit? Thunderlane, he just scared the piss out of your girl! You gotta be a stallion, go up to that Fuller guy and be like 'Bitch, you just scared my ho! Imma kick yo ass to next Thursday!'. Am I right or am I right?”

By this point, Rainbow Dash is too stiff to blink, and not even the gentle shoulder rubs from Fleetfoot and Misty can save her. Fire Streak, on the other hand, shakes his head while the hate in Spitfire's eyes burns through her sunglasses like an accelerated flame on tissue paper.

“We aren't doing that. We have too much at stake,” says Fire Streak.

“What!? Hey, if you're worried about Thunderlane getting his ass kicked you don't have to worry. I'll be there for moral support,” says Silver Lining.

Thunderlane glares at Silver Lining, but remains silent about the insult since Fire Streak is already talking. Spitfire is also leaving the group, but she is quiet and her steps are heavy. When the Major is a few paces away, she completely ignores the no-flying rule and zooms away from her spot. Thunderlane is certain that he is the only one who's seen her leave.

“What I mean is that we are about to go on a mission, and any disturbance can throw everything off and lead to our target slipping away. Even what happened to Rainbow can put us in a bad spot,” says Fire Streak firmly. “We need to... Where's Spitfire?”

Fuller strolls down an empty hallway, enjoying what peace he can get. He can still hear the ruckus of The Harmonious Light being prepared for lift off, but it is considerably muffled, thus allowing his brain to work properly and enjoy what privacy he can get. However, when he opens the door to the stairwell, his hooves are quickly tugged from the ground from a very unexpected blunt object hitting him on his backside.

He flips end over end. His colors blurring and sharp spikes of pain stabbing his body as bones snap and muscles bruise. His muzzle smashes against a concrete step, flattening it and shattering most of his teeth, and spraying his face and flooding his throat with blood. Another few moments of endless bounces and rolls and snapping bones later and Fuller's side crashes into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. Pain erupts from his splintering ribs and snapping femurs and hip. He's pretty sure he feels his lung being stabbed and cut out of place, too.

In his youth he would be screaming and sobbing in pain. He still feels the pain, but he has learned to deal with it, plus he cannot scream because he is drowning in his blood. However, he is not afraid. In all actuality, he feels very inconvenienced and a little upset about it. Laying at the bottom of concrete stairs, soaking in his blood, his body destroyed and tailored suit ruined is definitely not how he envisioned his night to go.

He decides to wait a few seconds before fixing the problem he is in just to see if his assailant would reveal themselves. Barely two seconds later and a blob of colors land in front of him in such a way that only a pegasus dropping down for a kill would. He blinks away just enough haze to see that his attacker is none other than Rainbow Dash's feisty commander.

“What a surprise... Major Temper,” wheezes Fuller, offering a weak smile full of broken and missing teeth.

Spitfire flaps her wings, but steps away from the blood creeping towards her. “I'm surprised it took me this long to toss your sorry ass down the stairs for what you did.”

Fuller gulps down some blood, then wheezes weakly. “Lecturing... a cause for death?... A warning would have been... appreciated.”

Spitfire snorts and moves so she is standing next to his head and lifts up her sunglasses so he can see her glare. “Ponies like you don't get warnings. Enjoy Tartarus, asshole.”

Then Spitfire zips off, straight into the air, leaving Fuller at the bottom of the stairwell to bleed out. The unicorn winces again and shifts weakly on the floor, feeling his shattered ribs scrape and poke at his ribs and parts of his femur snap out of place. Feeling his bones shifting and ripping at the muscles and organs, he grunts and coughs a spray of blood on his hoof, soaking his sleeve in more red. He looks around, glares straight up the stairwell, really regretting his painful encounter with the Major. A simple debate about his methods of lecturing would have suited him just fine, but he is not too fond of pain.

Taking a deep, wet and ragged breath, he closes his eyes and puts a magical bubble around him, and a moment later, a green orb glows underneath his suit. His body is wrapped in thin tendrils that bleeding into his injuries, and immediately he feels everything mend with a comfortably warm feeling. All of bones pop back in place and are fixed good as new, and his muscles and organs are stitched and fully healed in seconds. When he opens his eyes, they flash green for a moment, then he dissolves his bubble, adjusts his tie and uses a quick spell to evaporate the bloody mess that covers him, the floor and the stairs. After that, he stands up, cracks his back and then strolls out through the nearest door, smiling thinly to himself.

A group of unicorns wearing thick jumpsuits of the mechanics use their magic to lift the metal crates holding the armor of the Wonderbolts on to flatbed carts. Thunderlane is not paying attention to them, though. He is keeping his eyes on Rainbow Dash, and she is still petrified, and Fire Streak is not too far away, talking to Flash Sentry and a couple of military police officers. For the life of him, Thunderlane can't understand why Flash Sentry is even working when his shot up limb is still bandaged like a mummy and supported by braces.

Work ethic must be strong with that one.

“It's very important that you find her quickly,” says Fire Streak. “You don't have much time, so use everypony you can to find her before she does something stupid.”

“Not to be rude, Lieutenant, but do you mean stupid as in flying in a no-flying zone?” asks Flash Sentry.

“What?”

Flash Sentry points his bandaged hoof over Fire Streak's head and the Lieutenant and the rest of the team look to see Spitfire swooping down and blowing off her subordinate when he calls her. She walks straight towards Rainbow Dash and stands in front of her, looking down at her, and she continues looking at her until the Airmare barely looks up.

“Fuller won't be bothering you any more,” says Spitfire grimly when the two lock eyes.

Rainbow Dash lifts her head up all the way and silently stares at Spitfire with her wide eyes flooded with disbelief. It is obvious she wants to believe it, but it seems like one one of those claims that is too good to be true. She, Thunderlane and the rest of the team watch Spitfire as she takes a spot on the outer ring of their group, and the group is silent for the most part, but Fire Streak frowns and approaches the Major after dismissing Flash Sentry and his guards.

“What did you do?” says Fire Streak when he is next to Spitfire.

“Pushed Fuller down a flight of stairs. He got busted up pretty bad,” replies Spitfire calmly.

“You did what!?”

“He probably bled to death already.” Spitfire waves a circle in front of her face. “His nose was pushed into his face, had bones popping out, blood going everywhere, and general other injuries that come with taking a nosedive down five stories worth of concrete stairs. Just a really bad way to go out.”

Fire Streak's jaw drops. “Are you saying that you killed Fuller?”

“Not apologizing. I don't like anypony messing with my team. Besides, I think I just did Equestria big favor. Nopony liked that creep.”

“Well, that's just great, ma'am! And what happens if they find his body?”

Spitfire shrugs. “Well, let's hope we're airborne by that point.”

“ATTENTION, EVERYPONY! PRE-FLIGHT MEETING WILL BE IN SESSION IN TEN MINUTES! ALL PERSONNEL OF HARMONIOUS LIGHT ASSEMBLE IN LOBBY, IMMEDIATELY!” announces a stallion over the intercom.

Spitfire sighs and stands up. “Let's go.”

Thunderlane remains by Rainbow Dash's side the whole time, from the moment the team got up to go to the assembly, to them standing in formation in front of a hastily set up podium where Soarin stands. In fact, Thundelane realizes that the whole team has surrounded her, which appears to make her uncomfortable, but she is keeping enough of her bearing to stand straight with the other ponies standing in formation.

It seems like only a few short minutes have passed from scrambling to the assembly room and moving in formation to when Soarin makes his appearance. The Captain of the Royal Guard watches the soldiers from his perch, flanked on all sides by dozens of Royal Guardponies standing at attention with their horns glowing.

Soarin's jaded face twists from pain as he shift in his spot and adjusts the microphone. While other workers continue loading the zeppelin, the noise has dropped considerably, so everyone hears the echoing thumps of his adjustments from the speakers placed strategically around the room.

Soarin clears his throat. “Soldiers... Colts and fillies of the Guard, I want to apologize for doing this to you, for sending you off to foreign lands at such short notice without a grand speech to lift your spirits. I wish I could give you the time to say your farewells, to spend a few more days with your loved ones, but we have lingered long enough and our enemies have shown it. We cannot take comfort in hiding, any more. We must take the fight to the ones who are waging a war against our people, and when we go to Bernese and annihilate the ones who hurt our fellow ponies, they will know too late and without hope of peace that Equestria has had enough. I know you will return home to your loved ones as heroes. When you complete this task you will save millions of lives. You will save Equestria. But most of all, you will save your friends and families from a grim, unjust future. When you leave, leave knowing that I and all of Equestria is proud of you. Good luck and may Celestia bless all of you. Dismissed.”

Thousands of hooves snap up to salute in unison, and Soarin wearily returns the gesture, and when the army starts filing out, the Captain hobbles away with his escorts.

“Nice. Quick. Too bad he wasted it on a waste of time,” says Silver Lining.

Thunderlane rolls his eyes, but remains silent by Rainbow Dash's side while Fire Streak sighs and shakes his head.

“Silver, I got an order for you,” says the Lieutenant.

“Is it approved by our feisty boss?” says Silver Lining, grinning widely at Spitfire.

Spitfire only frowns, but Fire Streak nods.

“I'm sure she will approve, and that is to keep your mouth shut for the entire trip over to Bernese,” says Fire Streak.

Silver Lining's smile drops like a stone in water. “What? That's torture!”

“Listening you talk and complaining about this mission is torture,” quips Spitfire.

“Ooh, burn!” says Fleetfoot.

Silver Lining glowers at Fleetfoot. “That's not a burn.”

“Every word you say leads to five wing-pumps. You're at thirty five, right now. You want to add more?” says Spitfire.

Silver Lining gapes at his superior and holds a hoof up in protest, but a few fast seconds later and he retracts his hoof, frowns and looks down. “No.”

“Forty.”

“What!?”

“Forty five.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Sixty.”

“This is bullshit!”

“Seventy five!”

“But-”

A sudden crack echoes over the chattering crowd and thousands of hoofsteps, and Silver Lining stumbles forward and has to use Thunderlane's back as a grip to keep himself from tasting metal floors. Standing next to Silver Lining is Misty with her hoof raised, face beet red and teeth grinding.

“Silver, shut the fuck up! I mean, holy shit! Goddess-damn, fucking dumbass, keep your damn mouth shut! Shit!” yells Misty.

The team stops and looks at Silver Lining's spotter with various levels of surprise, but she says nothing and only shakes her head and continues trotting forward, swearing up a storm to herself. Silver Lining glares at Misty as she leaves as he rubs the back of his head, and then he inspects his hoof, opens his mouth to say something, but clamps it shut and mopes forward. The rest of the team follows suit, and while they walk, Fire Streak leans in close to Spitfire.

“I think we should have Thunderlane count Silver's wing-pumps,” says Fire Streak loud enough for the subject to hear.

Thunderlane can't help it. He smiles at the idea of watching his nemesis exerting himself to painful degrees. He can just imagine Silver Lining huffing and wheezing and sweating gratuitously with his puffy mane absolutely destroyed by his sweat as his body struggles every second of the way to complete the eighty wing pumps. When Silver Lining looks over his shoulder to glare daggers at Thunderlane, he returns the look with a long, toothless smile and the sweetness of revenge glowing in his eyes. Today might end on a high note, after all.

Then he realizes that he has not been able to contact his parents about his sudden departure.

With that thought, Thunderlane's smile fades and he looks to hide the sadness infecting his eyes. A part of him wants to forget about the letter since they already knew about him leaving for Bernese, and he reasons that with Silver Lining and Fire Streak watching him, he could not do much without raising suspicion. However, another part is telling him that he has nothing to hide. He never has, never will, and any who think otherwise does not know him. Like his team.

Thunderlane swallows and blinks as his muscles clench from the returning resentment. He will be glad when this mission is over and he no longer has to deal with the team he was never a part of.

It has been almost twenty minutes after Soarin's quick speech, and the Wonderbolts are now weaving their way through the narrow corridors of The Harmonious Light, with Spitfire and Fire Streak in the lead. Thunderlane can feel eyes on the team as they pass working ponies barely squeezing their way between the team and dark gray walls with their cargo. He looks out of the corner of his eye and sees Rainbow Dash still has her sunken look, and is eyeing every passing pony with caution.

Thunderlane looks ahead again, watching the bright lights above pass by and marveling at the network of pipes that snake in and around the walls. Speaker boxes blurt messages that he is sure no one can hear due to the commotion of banging hooves, squeaking wheels, slamming door and shouting ponies. Though, as he travels down the hall, there is one thing he notices about the soldiers aboard.

The pegasi are -for the most part- very cautious and seem downright uncomfortable being stuck in a metal can like the zeppelin. They eye every bolt, every bulge and welded piece with caution. Some even look around for a second or two before tapping or banging on the metal interior with either their hooves or whatever tools they have on hand. That said, the pegasi wearing the gray mechanic jumpsuits are not too impressed with their guest's behaviors. Their non-winged comrades share the same sense of anxiety, but they stare in wide eyed wonder at the mechanics of The Harmonious Light. Some even share a few laughs as their pegasus counter parts make a show of their discomfort of being trapped in such a large metal case.

For Thunderlane -and he is sure the rest of his team feels similar feelings- he is not liking being stuck inside the zeppelin. It is an amazing piece of technology, even if its interior is lacking color, but he has to fight his wings to keep them from expanding and finding some open air. Pegasi do like their space, due to their territorial nature, after all, and being crammed together like bargain priced sardines with other pegasi is just asking for trouble. Though, Thunderlane knows that he and other Wonderbolts can handle tight spaces. He still remembers what his Military Training Instructor, Burnside, told his Cloud when they arrived in regards to forgetting about personal space in the Wonderbolts.

“You guys are going to learn how to share. You will share your space. You will share showers, your food, your hoof. You will even share your beds if you have to. If any of you think you can be territorial bitches like teenage mares then I will work you so hard that your pussies will evolve into dicks!”

Unfortunately, some ponies did not comprehend the message and they had one dispute too many. By the time Burnside was done with them they voluntarily discharged the program with mental scarring, sore muscles and a collection of baby care products. Just reminiscing on the punishment inflicted on the unfortunate trainees makes Thunderlane shudder and count his blessings that he was smart enough not to make a big deal about personal space.

After minutes of swerving through narrow passages, bumping past mechanics and soldiers making last minute adjustments to whatever it is they are doing, Spitfire suddenly stops. The group stops behind her and Thunderlane cranes his neck to see Spitfire and an aged unicorn stallion exchanging salutes.

The unicorn has a light brown coat, a cropped, black mane and is wearing a white jacket with blue bands and a pin made up of a pair of silver bars with a blue circle in between them. His cutie mark is a compass rose.

“Pleasure to have you on my ship, Major Temper,” says the unicorn.

“Its a nice... ship, Captain Rose,” says Spitfire, putting a veil of intrigue over her discomfort of the position she is in.

“Fastest ship in Equestria. And from what Captain Pansy has told me of our mission, we will need to be fast and sneaky.”

“Just get us in and out as fast as you can. I don't want to be in Bernese any longer than I have to.”

Captain Rose nods in agreement while another unicorn stallion approaches. This one is around Thunderlane's age with a pair of swords crossing over a map as his cutie mark. His groomed, light blue coat is underneath a similar white outfit like his superior, only he has one silver bar instead of two. He has a cropped, dark blue mane, too.

Captain Rose looks at the newcomer for a brief moment before he looks back at Spitfire. “I fully understand, Major. We've all had a long day and we're about ready to go, so why don't I have Lieutenant Canvas show you and your team their rooms so you can rest?”

“Sounds good,” says Spitfire with a nod.

Captain Rose looks at the newcomer again and points at the Wonderbolts. “Canvas, show Major Temper and her team their rooms, and then meet me on the observation deck.”

Lieutenant Canvas salutes. “Yes, sir.” Then to the team of pegasi: “Follow me, please.”

The group follows the Lieutenant down the corridor, once again having to squeeze their way past ponies and supplies and having to mutter silent prayers that they won't lose their hearing from the noise. The walk is not long. It is only a few minutes long and a couple of levels above where they met, and to the zeppelin's credit, the living quarters are not nearly as loud and surprisingly not as crowded as below. It is still loud, but at least ponies can hear their thoughts.

Lieutenant Canvas leads the group down the slightly less noisy and crowded hall, passing identical room after identical room, all sealed with the same metal doors and all having red lights above them. Where they are led to, however, has a green light above the door and Canvas opens it without a second's thought.

“Ladies, this will be your room,” says Lieutenant Canvas, his hoof waving inside their destination.

The group crowds around the entrance, and Thunderlane once again finds himself craning his neck above the team so he can see what they see. The room is just big enough to fit the four mares, with two bunk beds pushed against opposite sides of the room and a pair of footlockers by each. Seeing the room, Spitfire pushes her sunglasses down slightly and stares at Canvas with a small frown, which he returns with an uncaring shrug.

“Limited space, ma'am,” he says.

Spitfire pushes her glasses back up. “It'll do. We won't be here long, anyway.”

Canvas steps aside to let the mares enter their room, and he points down the hall. “Gentlecolts, follow me just down the hall for your accommodations, please.”

The stallions are about to leave, but Rainbow Dash walks out and taps Canvas on the shoulder before he can go a pace. It does get his attention, though.

“Is there a bathroom nearby?” asks Rainbow Dash.

Canvas points down the opposite side of the hall. “Third door down. Left side.”

Rainbow Dash mutters a quick thanks, excuses herself as she slithers between Thunderlane and Silver Lining, and starts down the hall. Spitfire orders Fleetfoot to go with Rainbow Dash, and once again, Thunderlane finds himself having to side step a mare.

Thunderlane looks over his shoulder to watch Rainbow Dash go down the hall, still sulking and staying very close to the wall and watching everyone with extreme paranoia. Fleetfoot calls after her and gallops down the hall, slowing to a trot when she is next to Dash, and she puts he wing on top of the Element's back and quietly talks to her.

“Gotta keep up, Thunderlane!” says Fire Streak.

Thunderlane snaps his attention away from the mares and trots after his superior. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

Fire Streak sighs and shakes his head. “You are one apologetic pony, aren't you?”

Thunderlane stays silent, but thankfully he does not have a long walk because in a matter of seconds he finds himself in the doorway of the group's appointed room. It is identical to the room the mares got with the layout of the bunk beds and the footlockers, so it really is nothing special.

“This is your room,” says Lieutenant Canvas.

“Thanks,” says Fire Streak, nodding appreciatively and offering a smile.

The unicorn returns the gesture, though with a large dosage of weariness and a hint of annoyance. “No problem. If you need anything, let me or the Captain know.”

“Sure thing.”

Lieutenant Canvas steps aside and lets the stallions enter, with Fire Streak being first, Silver Lining being second because he butts past Thunderlane, and Thunderlane being last. Lieutenant Canvas quietly leaves and Fire Streak wastes no time in unbuttoning his uniform jacket.

“Best relax, boys, we got a long flight ahead,” says Fire Streak, now shaking his jacket off and plopping it on a bed for folding. "Except for you, Silver, you owe us some wing pumps."

Silver growls and Thunderlane figures its safe to remove his uniform, so he starts on that. Naturally, with Fire Streak's head start, he finishes undressing himself before Thunderlane and Silver Lining, leaving just a dark blue shirt with the Wonderbolts seal and his name stitched on the upper left portion of the chest. By the time he has his uniform folded neatly and placed inside one of the footlockers, Thunderlane and Silver Lining are still trying to get their folding done.

“Well, I'll be back. I gotta go talk to Spitfire for a moment,” orders Fire Streak. He stops by Thunderlane, places his hoof on his shoulder and looks him in the eyes. “Don't forget, you gotta count Silver Lining's wing-pumps. And don't cut him any slack, either. I will know. Got it?”

Thunderlane nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He pats Thunderlane's shoulder and looks at Silver Lining. “Hop to those wing-pumps, Silver.”

Silver growls, then drops down, props his wings against the metal floor and starts pumping. Up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, grunting with each pump and staring viciously at the bed his uniform was tossed upon. Fire Streak casts a smirk at Silver Lining as he watches the pegasus go through the motions and when Thunderlane's counting goes past five, he exits the room, leaving Thunderlane monitor Silver Lining's brutal punishment.

In the tiny zeppelin bathroom, Rainbow Dash stares at her reflection with her bloodshot eyes looking back at her from behind the spots of old lime residue and black dots, and her ears hang limp as tiny claks rapidly resonate from her shaking hooves hitting the sink. She looks over her shoulder and sees that the door is still closed, but she also wiggles the knob as quietly as she can to make sure that it is still locked.

With the knob barely moving, she turns back to the sink, pulls off her jacket and tie, and gingerly unbottons her blouse. As each button pops loose, her whimpers become louder and her throat tightens with pressure from a need to scream. When her shirt falls opens, a ring of dark blue is around her neck is revealed.

Rainbow Dash shakes her head, quietly whispering in disbelief to herself with her cheeks becoming drenched and eyes burning from her flowing tears. Her legs give out and she crumbles to the floor, curled up and holding her tail and shielding herself with her wings as she rocks back and forth. As she lays on the ground, curled and alone, fear looms over her and seeps inside, poisoning every part of her to where she does not want to move.

Rainbow Dash wants to believe Spitfire's words. She wants to believe that Fuller will not be a problem, anymore, but her leader does not know Fuller. Spitfire does not know the evil she has seen in his eyes when he choked her, or the coldness she felt when those tendrils trapped her. Rainbow Dash has never seen anyone hold so much malice, and if she cannot protect herself from him, how can she protect her friends?

“Last call for mail!” hollers a mare from down the hall.

Thunderlane's ears perk up, and he steps around Silver Lining to poke his head out of his door, ignoring the unfortunate stallion's colorful mutters. The mare calling is an earth pony with a yellow coat with an orange mane, wearing a gray shirt and carrying a saddle stuffed with envelopes. She is poking her head in the rooms, repeating her call and having business related small talk with the occupants. When the mare approaches his room, he sees that fatigue has sucked the color right out of her eyes, leaving them as dark bags, and has ruined her mane, which is now a disheveled mess of a bun-tie.

“You got mail, hon?” asks the worn out mare.

Thunderlane shakes his head and she looks at Silver Lining.

“How 'bout you? You got any mail?” she asks.

Silver Lining pushes himself up yet again on his wings, thick globs of sweat dripping off of his muzzle and folded ears, and his eyes are narrowed to slits as he grinds his teeth, growling loudly. “No, I don't got any mail.” He goes down, then up again, his wings vibrating with his whole body and his face burning hot while his outfit sticks to his sweaty body. “How many am I at, Thunderlane?”

“Seventy,” replies Thunderlane.

Silver Lining screams and pushes up and down harder. “Seventy!? Now I'm at seventy one! And two! And oh, Goddess, I can't feel my damn wings any more!”

“Eighty. You're done.”

Silver Lining flops to the ground with a thud, whimpering and wings twitching and throbbing. Meanwhile, the mare silently eyes Silver Lining, gladly taking in the stallion's muscles that shimmer in the light from the sweaty beads and the soaked shirt that hugs his muscled frame. While the mare ogles him, Silver Lining looks up at her, panting with locks of his mane sticking to his face. The mare then rolls her eyes with a smile and walks away without saying a word. Once she is out of sight, Thunderlane goes into his gear and pulls out his container of pills and a canteen.

“Are you okay?” asks Thunderlane.

Silver Lining extends a trembling hoof to Thunderlane. “I might need help getting up.”

Thunderlane puts down his medication, pulls Silver Lining to his hooves and helps him to his cot. Once there, he gently eases him down, and the sniper sighs loudly and stares at the ceiling, eyes droopy and tongue hanging out.

“Oh, man, that was brutal,” says Silver Lining. “By the way, did you see that chick eyeballing me?”

Thunderlane nods and takes a few of his pills and a swig of water.

“Did you catch her name?” asks Silver Lining.

“I think her tag said Carry or something,” answers Thunderlane, not really carrying if he is wrong or not.

“Good enough.” Silver Lining yawns and shifts on his cot. “Man, those wing-pumps got me good. I wish somepony would close the door and turn off the light so I can recharge at my fullest capacity.”

Thunderlane sighs, closes the door, which does a little bit to muffle the noise of chatter and hooves and wheels going across the floor, then he shuts off the room's light. The room becomes almost pitch black, save for a tiny streak of light at the bottom of the door that is occasionally blocked by the outside traffic. Thunderlane has to shuffle across the floor with his hoof outstretched to find his cot, and when he does, he clumsily undresses and folds his uniform as best as he can in the dark.

Once that is done, Thunderlane places it on top of the footlocker and climbs on his cot. It squeaks and groans under his weight as he climbs on the stiff mattress. Though, while the mattress is not comfortable, the wool blanket they supplied more than makes up for it, and the pillow is not too bad on his head, either. After getting comfortable on his cot, Thunderlane closes his eyes and prepares to drift off to sleep to end one of the longest days of his life.

But try as he might, he can tell he is in for another rough night, for as soon as he closes his eyes, a terror grows inside that leaves a sick feeling in his gut and stuffs his throat with imaginary marbles. What if he dies over there? What if they fail the mission? What if they cannot catch Rotes Lienen and Zäh Ausstecher, and what if the war reaches Equestria's shores because of their failure?

Thoughts like these swirl around in his mind, taunting him with no end or mercy in sight. His only solace in the threat of failure is that he has a chance to set things right. When they get to Bernese he will have an opportunity to fix his mistakes and take down the ones who hurt Dash and his brother and all those innocent people at the Stadium and Headquarters.

While the terrible feeling of failure lingers in his gut and throat, Thunderlane does feel a creeping, wicked sense of glee from the thought of taking the fight to the Gold Stars. And if all goes well, the ironic outcome of the Gold Star Movement's plan is too much to not smile at, for if all works, the Gold Stars will be destroyed by the very storm they created.

It is a nice thought to rest on before they knock on Charon's door.

After having a quick talk with the mares of his team, Fire Streak steps out of the really tight stairwell, breathing a sigh of relief when he is out of the box inside the box. However, his destination has left him weary because it is almost completely abandoned. Thick pipes bulge from the walls, all hissing and clanging in some fashion, and dark red lights illuminate the hall, giving him only a black and red scheme. The nightmarish visual is strong enough to send imaginary spiders crawling up and down Fire Streak's spine and inject his thoughts with corpses stuffed inside the walls or under the floors. The demented hallway certainly fits the part.

However, he did not get as far as he did just to turn around and walk back out. He still has to talk to Spitfire about her killing Fuller, after all. Luckily for him, Spitfire is not too far from him, slumping against the wall, still in her uniform. Or, at least it looks like her from where he is at, anyway. It is a bit difficult to tell when everything looks like blood.

Fire Streak carefully approaches the mare, trying not to think about the genius that made this part of the ship so creepy, and when he reaches her, his initial plan goes out the window. The mare is, in fact, Spitfire, but her eyes are shimmering in the light from tears, and her face is hardened with an unhealthy dose of anger and resentment. He stops and tilts his head slightly, trying to get a better look at his superior.

“Ma'am?” calls Fire Streak gently.

Spitfire's ears and eyes barely move to his direction. “Shouldn't you be in bed?” she asks harshly.

“Saying that to a grown stallion is a weird thing to say, ma'am,” says Fire Streak. “I actually wanted to check up on you since you did murder somepony in cold blood. It just isn't like you to be... well, violent like that.”

“Violent like that?” Spitfire chuckles grimly. “You don't know me as well as you think. True, Fuller is the first I murdered, but it wasn't in cold blood. It was to protect Dash from him. If he could torment an Element with no problem, there is no telling what he did to others of lesser status.”

“So, it was some kind of crusade, then?”

“No. It was spur of the moment, get shit done kind of thing, because, let's face if I went for a complaint, it would have gotten lost. So, I did what I had to do to protect a pony that I am responsible for, and that's that.”

Fire Streak hesitates. “Are you okay, ma'am? Seriously, are you okay?”

Spitfire sniffles and wipes her nose with her sleeve, grimacing at the ugly stain that is smeared on it. She sighs, drops her hoof and rests her head against the wall, shaking her head with her yes shut tight, squeezing tears out.

“No, I'm not okay. Actually, I'm scared, Fire,” she whispers shamefully. “I know its weak to be afraid, but I still am. All of you are my responsibility and I don't want to lose any of you, no matter how much you guys piss me off from time to time. It is my duty to lead and to protect every one of you, and I allowed us to go on a mission that was poorly planned and for what?”

“To get those who put us in this mess in the first place, right?” says Fire Streak slowly.

Spitfire shakes her head and wipes her eyes. “I think there is more to the mission than Soarin wants to admit. You know, he hasn't been the same ever since he got that promotion and started talking to Fuller, like he tries to be like the backdoor politicians, and that is not the Soarin I knew. I guess that is another reason why I pushed Fuller down the stairs. He took Soarin from me, and I needed a good reason to do what I did. What better reason to kill somepony than to protect those you care about?”

Fire Streak looks around to make sure no one is giving them unwanted attention, and then he sits next to Spitfire and looks ahead at the pipes bulging out of the wall. “Well, ma'am, I think its good that you're afraid. If you're afraid, you make smart moves. Or stay stagnant, but we really can't be stagnant for this one, so you'll play it smart.”

“I already failed once, though. All those ponies died at the Headquarters because I could not protect them. I'm glad I get a chance to get the bastards that did all that shit to us, but I don't want to be at the cost of losing any of you.”

Fire Streak bobs his head a little to the left and right, lips puckered slightly as he thinks of what to say. “Well... What is it that they said about casualties in those leadership courses?”

Spitfire sighs and looks down for the briefest of moments. “One death is ten saved. So, in theory, if say... you died, you will die saving ten ponies, so those ten can save ten more and so on.”

Fire Streak grins. “If I die? Ma'am, I thought you liked me, but no, you go and name me first for death.”

Spitfire cracks a grin as well, and with it, a weak chuckle escapes. “Shut up, Fire. You know what I'm trying to say. Besides, you're supposed to be watching Hurricane, so I don't know why you're here with me.”

Fire Streak shrugs. “Somepony's gotta make sure you're okay. I mean, you just murdered the CDA Director in a stairwell and now you're sitting here in... whatever this place is, worrying and moping.”

“I just wanted some time to myself before I get drowned in estrogen.”

“So, you prefer to get drowned testosterone, then?”

Spitfire looks at Fire Streak and the Lieutenant immediately giggles to himself and lowers his head, pressing his forehoof against his forehead. If blushes can really burn, he would be a skull face pony, by now.

“Oh, man, I'm sorry, ma'am, that came out wrong,” says Fire Streak, trying with painful results not to laugh from sheer embarrassment.

Spitfire smirks and pats him on the shoulder. “Go to bed, Fire. You're tired.”

Fire Streak snickers and lowers his hoof, exposing his bright red face, and he keeps his eyes everywhere but at Spitfire as he stands up. “Yeah, I really should. And so should you. We need you to think clearly and not say stupid stuff like me.”

Spitfire nods and stands up, as well, albeit reluctantly. “Yeah, I guess you're right. I'll be glad when all this Bernese stuff is over. Hell, maybe if I'm lucky they won't figure out that I bucked Fuller down a flight of stairs and will live out the rest of my days with some peace and quiet.”

Fire Streak's smile fades to a worried frown. “And if they do?”

“Then I'll face whatever consequences will come, but I'll hold no regrets. Nopony messes with my team and gets away with it.”

The ship suddenly shudders and ear splitting groans and screeches, and brain shaking hums assault the two from all sides. Both look up and around with various levels of confusion and worry as the lights flicker and crackles echo from down the hall, blurting a stallion's message seconds later.

“ATTENTION! LIFT OFF IN FIVE MINUTES! ATTENTION! LIFT OFF IN FIVE MINUTES!”

After the message ends, frantic shouts are heard from down the hall, and the two look to see mechanics hastily pushing carts by the doorways.

Fire Streak grabs Spitfire's shoulder, stopping her cold, and he cringes and quickly releases and apologizes to her when he feels her muscles tighten under her coat.

“Spitfire, ma'am, I just want to let you know that we'll be fine. You'll lead all of us home,” assures Fire Streak. “We'll get these guys, stop the war before it gets here, and then we'll all have a beach party somewhere to celebrate.”

Spitfire silently stares at Fire Streak. Her misty eyes are having trouble focusing on him and her throat bobs from a swallow, and seconds later, she forces a smile and playfully bumps Fire Streak with her rump before walking to the stairs. “You just want to see me with a wet mane, don't you?”

Fire Streak looks down, shaking his head with a sigh and small smile, and he walks up the stairs after his superior. “Don't be putting ideas into my head, ma'am. Its unprofessional.”

“Says the one who started it.”

“Accidentally.”

“Uh huh, sure. Why don't you go to bed with your boys. Celestia knows this will be the last night we get to enjoy a good rest for a while.”

“Can say the same for you with your mares, ma'am.”

The two reach their floor and they both exchange smiles as they step out of the stairwell. Surprisingly the hall is dead, save for a couple of ponies ducking into their sleeping quarters. With them out on their floor, though, the two part ways, with Fire Streak walking backwards and Spitfire looking over her shoulder.

“Good night, ma'am,” says Fire Streak.

Spitfire's toothless smiles grows. “Good night, Fire.”

Fire Streak takes a few more backwards steps, then turns around and slides into his room. As soon as he enters the room, he spots Silver Lining and Thunderlane in the bright light of the hall, both passed out under their blankets. Silver looks worn out, but relieved, and has his tongue hanging out and his leg outstretched from under his blanket. Thunderlane is curled under his blanket, but his brows are scrunched and his ear is twitching, as well as his hoof. He hears a weak whimper from the reserved stallion and looks away from him when the sleeping pony shifts under his blanket to face the wall.

Fire Streak sighs and closes the door, covering everyone in pitch black darkness. He has to shuffle across the floor with his hoof outstretched to find Silver's bed, and once he does, he climbs on top, crawls under the blanket and closes his eyes for a much needed rest and a desire to dream of something pleasant. Like soaking wet mares playing on the beach, getting covered in sandy sprinkles while a gentle breeze carries a fresh ocean scent to them. And grilling some veggie kabobs, too. Those will be nice. Grilling and talking sports and mares with other stallions while they ogle said mares getting wet and dirty.

That is what he wants to dream of, and he tries to force the pleasant imagery to the front of his mind. What he keeps seeing, however, is a tombstone in the middle of a snow covered field. With his name on it. And surrounded by other tombstones with the names of his other teammates etched on them.

“Here lies Lieutenant Fire Streak of the Wonderbolts,” says a stallion with an oily voice, wanting oh so much to giggle. “Died a hero in a forsaken country.”

From behind Fire Streak's tombstone, a black unicorn wearing a ratty cloak steps out, his unkempt, wiry gray mane covered in flakes of snow and his pure gray eyes looking back at him as a wicked grin spreads across his muzzle.

“Sleep well, little soldier, for I'll be coming for you, soon. I'll be coming for all of you.”