"You don't have to act like you're sleeping. You aren't very good at faking, and what with the recent string of events I'm surprised you're not still testing out that new wing of yours."

The pegasus readied himself for a fight. He almost jumped out of his seat as he felt a warm burst of moist air flow across his neck as the assassin looked over his shoulder. "A remarkable weapon you've created. Does it work?"

Not in complete control of his body, Clockwork kicked his chair out from under him, followed by a quick head-butt to the intruder's throat. After said intruder had stumbled back a bit, Clockwork flared out his artificial wing, grabbed his gun, and met the intruder's sword with his prosthetic appendage. The fire ruby glowed a brillient crimson, causing the room to turn a similar shade, but the light wasn't enough to expose the assailant's face.

The pegasus had no training in sword fighting, let alone when the blade was connected to him at the shoulder, and especially when he could barely see who he was fighting. After making sure that his firearm was primed, Clockwork pushed hard enough that his assailant stepped out of striking range.

"I don't know, should we test it out?" the stallion asked as he aimed his revolver at the attacker’s center of mass.

"Your voiced cracked," the pony replied in an eerily distinct tone. “You sound funny when you do that.”

"So what?" the stallion asked, his aim shaking.

"You're scared, Clockwork, but of the dark or of me? Both? Allow me to eliminate one of those factors." the pony flicked the light switch with the tip of her sword before sheathing it. "You already know who I am, or at least, who I was. I wish to keep this as bloodless as possible."

Clockwork felt his throat ache. “You?! You’re the traitor?!”

Saltwater Taffy dipped into a low, practiced bow.

“So it was you after all. The trio that tried to put me under, the forged signature, the rampant questioning and multiple days off, even my missing notes. What’d you do with them, anyway?”

“Reduced them to ash. What else did you expect?”

“Why? Why?! Why turn against your own species?!”

The pegasus rolled her eyes. “Ugh, there’s no need to scream. No one will hear you anyway.

“Answer the question, you piece of shit.”

The mare giggled. “You know, I thought the disabled were supposed to be lovable, but you’ve blown the presumption right out of the water.”

Clockwork growled. “Answer the question!”

“Does the name 'Fluff Valley' mean anything to you?"

Clockwork frowned.

“I thought as much. That was my home, or at least, I thought it was before I was shown the truth. I care not to remember how long ago it was, but it was a beautiful cloud city, situated near the border. It felt like days as the Empire reduced the city to mist, one block at a time. I alone was spared by a soldier called Gazot. He took me in and raised me as his own.” she paused. “I’m not doing this solely for the Empire, you know. It is for the best for everypony involved. Do you really think the Alliance will survive when we bring the hammer down? I’m not doing this for my own sake, but because I have to.”

"Coming from you, that seems awfully hard to believe." with the lights on, the pegasus was finally able to get a good view of his attacker. Taffy seemed almost completely unchanged, but also an entirely different mare. Her voice was now different in tone, her eyes radiated with a calm malice, and her speech was much more refined. She wore a set of griffon armor, designed to fit her equestrian form. He didn’t bother to call for help. He was completely on his own now.

"Your suspicion is understandable, what with me being someone you trusted as recently as a few hours ago and Equestria's propaganda trying to drill itself into your very being. Why wouldn't you be scared of me?"

"What the hell do you want with me? My wing? My mind?"

"Your mind is what the Empire originally desired, but that prosthetic of yours is an unexpected bonus," she answered mildly.

"I’ll keep both on my person, thanks."

"You misunderstand. You are young, and even with your experience, you have yet to reach your full potential. You’ve voiced your disdain of the Federation's propaganda, and your intellect is laudable. You're not too bad of a flyer as well."

The stallion was completely mortified about how causal Taffy seemed, like this was just any other day between the two of them. "So what? There are a thousand other ponies out there like me. What do I have that they don't?"

"You haven't been turned completely towards blind devotion."

"So everything from day one, the talks over lunch, the projects we worked on together, all of it was a lie?!"

"It was annoying to wake up and act like such a stupid creature day after day after day just to keep your trust, but it worked. I even studied Haywire for inspiration, couldn't you tell?" she frowned. “I do respect you. Honestly, I was half-hoping that you would've defected by now of your own free will."

"I'm not coming with you. Why should I?"

"Equestria is the cause of your suffering."

"What?"

"The smog from the industrial revolution made you what you are. Born early, weak, and crippled. You know what’s really funny, though?"

Clockwork narrowed his eyes.

“In the grand old days of Pegasopolis, mares and stallions like you were culled. If you had been born just a few hundred years ago, you would have been flown over to the Everfree Forest and dropped over a hydra nest.”

Clockwork felt a stone settle in his heart. "I know how I was born. No need to rub it in."

She frowned. "Equestria gave mercy on a demon that wished for the end of light. Had she succeeded, which she almost did, the world would be nothing but darkness and ice. Trusting Princess Luna was and is a severe folly. How could you be so foolish?"

“She was reformed." Clockwork gritted his teeth.

"How can you be so sure?"

Clockwork gave no reply.

"Furthermore, after the Draconequus unleashed Tartarus across all our nations, he was spared as well! That beast has the power to terrorize the world once more should he go free. Who says he won't use it?"

"I heard one of the Mane Six was going to try to convince him to use his powers for good, and then you stole him."

"We know that. Yet, how permanent is the influence of a single friend when you're cursed with immortality?"

Clockwork's brow furrowed.

Taffy paused for a moment, sporting a a grin that was horribly recognizable to the engineer opposite her. It was the same ditzy half-smile she usually wore. She wasn’t faking this. "Ah yes, you haven't heard from the mare you've loved for so long now. You know, she's become very friendly with some of your top brass, no doubt trying to get a commission. It’s surprising, the stories we get of her. Logs of her being in the passion with one, or five, stallions. A few mares as well. I think there was even a bull mentioned in one report. I wonder if they did it cowpony st-"

"YOU. FUCKING. LIAR!" the enraged pegasus fired off all seven shots in a matter of seconds. In response, Taffy drew her sword and actually deflected each one. She sheathed her undamaged blade when he saw her adversary lower his weapon, water visibly pooling at the corner of his eyes. It wasn’t much longer before tears were streaming down his cheeks. "You're lying. She's alive, and she's not that kind of mare. She still remembers me."

"But she doesn't love you. She’s a registered sociopath, actually. It's on file. Don’t feel bad, because she physically can’t."

"SHUT UP!" the pegasus screamed. "We're still friends!"

"That word, you keep using it like it means anything! Besides, you have that airhead earth pony and the lazy unicorn that just wants your dick and a desk job."

Realization sparked in the back of Clockwork's mind. Taffy had let her guard down. She didn't know about the shotgun round in his LeMane. "I don't care what lies you spit. I'm not going with you, and you can't take me by force."

"Oh, I think I can." the traitor drew her sword.

"Try it." Clockwork flicked the hammer on his pistol to fire its secondary ammunition.

"An empty gun will do you no good." she smirked.

Clockwork smirked back. "It's not empty."

BOOM!

Saltwater Taffy collapsed to the floor, screaming in pain as she clasped at the bloody stump where her left wing used to be while tears streamed from her hatred-filled eyes. Clockwork couldn’t decide what horrified him more; the fact that he had just willingly shot somepony he had trusted and possibly crippled her for life, or that he wasn’t reacting at all in the way he expected to. He did not vomit, felt no cold spike run up his back, he didn’t even bat an eyelid as he walked over to and knocked the mare unconscious with the butt of his weapon. He didn’t say anything when the “hostile persons” alarm sounded, nor when his two best friends arrived and Haywire dissolved into a panicked mess at the sight of her injured friend. His only words for a long time after that were nothing more than a minimalist description of previous events.

The Griffon Emperor's eyes opened. Behind the platinum mask that adorned his head, his eyes glowed with the fire of a hundred lifetimes. Experience, disappointment, and calm fury present all at once. He looked to his left and placed an armored talon on a button connected to a small radio nearby.

"Warfather," the Emperor spoke. Despite his relatively quiet tone of voice, the single word echoed into the deepest reaches of the castle. “Respond.”

“My Lord,” the warrior on the other end responded.

“Acquisition of the pegasus has failed. The plan is unaffected.”

“Saltwater Taffy was brash, untrained, and far too talkative. She will be mourned by none,” the ruler of all griffons bellowed.

“She was expendable and a good first test. Gazot will not be pleased to learn of her demise.”

There was a pause.

“Orders, my liege?”

“How goes the war so far?"

“We are gaining a foothold but the Alliance's resistance is stronger than previously expected. Valor Point is still ours, and we have taken two minor cities. Several locations are currently contested, and the zebras are faltering.”

"Continue with the current. I want an update on the conflict at Appleloosa in three hours’ time. Head there with your colleagues afterwards.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Both griffons ended the transmission with a single phrase, uttered ever since their species had been gifted with the ability to speak.

Imperii gloria, gloria Carniferous.

At a passing glance, Clockwork could've easily been mistaken for a statue where he sat. Even though his vital signs all read green, the fact that he had barely responded to outside stimuli for the past hour bothered not just the nurse, but the pegasus’ two closest friends in the facility.

“Clocky? Are you okay? Are you even in there?”

“I am lucid, Haywire.”

“Umm. . . if you’re worried about Taffy, she won’t be able to fly anymore, but she’ll live.”

“I missed.”

“What?” Wetwork asked.

“I should’ve aimed for her head; I should’ve put an end to her suffering, her confusion, her hatred. I didn’t, death would’ve been the greatest mercy, instead I caused her great pain and have condemned a creature meant for flight to walk the earth for the rest of her mortal life.”

“I still can’t believe that she was the traitor,” Haywire mused. “I mean, who would’ve suspected the cute, kinda dumb one to be the big baddy?”

Wetwork blinked. “I certainly didn’t."

"Her cover was flawless,” Clockwork added listlessly.

“Clockwork. Are you sure you’re alright? Wetwork placed a gently hoof on Clockwork’s real wing. “You just shot somepony we all trusted. Maybe you should lie down or-”

“I appreciate your concern, Wetwork, but I am fine.” the pegasus brushed the mare’s hoof from his shoulder. “As much as it pains me to say it, I have seen enough death to become used to the sight of certain things. The fact that Taffy herself confirmed she was the traitor also eases my psyche. Please, just leave me alone for some time. I will be-”

“Ooh! How about a walk through the city? We’ll probably be allowed to go since all of the traitors have been dealt with. Canterlot’s pretty at night and the fresh air will definitely do you some good!” Haywire squeaked.

Clockwork silently considered the idea. The corners of his lips upturned slightly. “I would like that, but are you both free and willing to accompany me?”

Wetwork lightly kissed her coltfriend’s forehead and smiled. “Always.”

Clockwork felt a myriad of unpleasant feelings run across his body, forcing him to stop and lean against the wall of a nearby building. It wasn't long before Wetwork and Haywire were at his side, practically barraging him with questions. "I'm fine, really." Clockwork reassured them. "Just give me a minute. . . why is the city so dark?"

At first, Clockwork believed that his vision had left him, but Haywire’s explanation told him otherwise. "It's a mandatory blackout for when a military airship departs. The only major light sources right now are spotlights."

Clockwork looked upwards to the vessel that hovered far overhead. Even in the scant light, it was magnificent to behold. It was also familiar, and it took a spotlight shining over the dirigible’s name for Clockwork to fully recall what the ship was.

Even Odds

"What is Meteor Squad's personal frigate doing in the middle of Canterlot? Shouldn't they be out doing night raids or something similar?"

"I think that's where they're headed, actually," Haywire mused. "It's just rumors, but I hear they're gonna try and retake an outpost we lost a few days ago. I think it's called Valor Point?"

Even as his heart skipped a beat at the mention of the outpost, Clockwork tried his best to keep a straight face. He looked at Wetwork, but said nothing. He just looked at her, letting his mouth dip into a barely noticeable frown. Something didn’t feel. . . good about right now. He fumbled for the right words, but ended up withdrawing a single word from his memory: Charger. The mare’s figure suddenly appeared and flickered over Wetwork’s, even going so far as to completely replace her for a couple of seconds at a time. He shook his head furiously to clear himself of the strange visual phenomenon. Before either mare could voice their concerns, he suggested that they head to the Even Odds’ departure gate for a better view.

Traveled closer the three ponies did, stopping at the chain-link fence that blocked unauthorized access to the dropship landing pad. The trio watched the smaller ships arrive and depart, always returning to their point of origin in the frigate’s hangar bay. While relatively small, the zeppelin was a marvel of equestrian innovation. While a large majority of the paint had been scraped or burned off thanks to countless engagements, the ship glimmered silver with speckles of bronze here and there. Its four propellers, each controlled by a separate motor, spun as one just fast enough to keep the ship in the air. Spotlights illuminated the underside of the behemoth like tiny dots of light on a painting, leaving it up to the viewer’s imagination to determine the full picture. Clockwork smiled, not just because of the machine’s magnificence, but also its purpose. Those on board were the best of the best, fighting to preserve the wellbeing of Equestria and all those who inhabited it. He wasn’t one for ending life, but he believed it would be a great honor if he ever got the chance to serve aboard that ship, or any ship.

"Beautiful, isn’t she?”

All three scientists nodded without a word, then promptly whipped around in shock as they recognized the voice, and more importantly, who it belonged to. “Sir!” Clockwork snapped to attention, followed closely by his companions. “She is indeed an exceptional vessel, sir!”

“Oh for Luna’s sake, I told you to quit it with the whole ‘sir’ shit back in basic. We’re technically the same rank, but I’m not too sure that applies to your friends.” Long Shot continued forward, stopping a short distance from the two mares. He stepped into a graceful bow. “To whom do I have the pleasure of being introduced?”

Even in the dim light, Clockwork noticed a faint blush on both mares’ cheeks. He couldn’t help but laugh as they stumbled over their words to introduce themselves. Haywire practically melted when the Commander kissed her hoof.

“Well, now that’s cleared up, what are you three doing out this late?”

“It’s a long, unpleasant story.” Clockwork replied in near monotone. “I needed to get some fresh air and stretch my wings.”

The nocturni nodded, an impressed look in his faintly glowing eyes. “I had heard about what you pulled off. Congratulations on that, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“Look, I’m no good with small talk so I’ll get straight to the point. A few of my mechanics are out sick and, in addition to them being highly valuable; we can’t risk a ship-wide outbreak of pony-pox. You three want to come aboard and help out for this mission?”

“What?!” all three responded.

“I’ve heard good things about you all, and from what we know, this mission should be relatively safe. I can get you the necessary clearance to come aboard as temporary crew if you’d like, and I believe you all to be more than qualified. We’ll bring you straight back after we retake Valor Point. Sound good?”

Clockwork hardly believed what he was hearing. An offer to help where he could put his skills to the most use? Was he joking?

“We leave in ten minutes. You guys coming or not?”

All three ponies nodded, and before long, they were off.

Long Shot sighed as he trotted down one of the frigate's many hallways. While the war had taken next to no toll on him or any other members of his species, just about everything else had endured some level of stress. When he had first been given command of the frigate he had come to recognize as his home, the ship was intentionally made to look battered and beaten to dissuade suspicion and keep enemy attention off of the vessel. However, the false wear and tear had by now become very real. The Nocturni halted long enough to press his hoof to one wall and grin solemnly as the ship's distant engines purred like a kitten. Neigh Orleans had been the worst, but she had still pulled through, and the same went for every member of his crew.

Relatively speaking, the frigate was staffed by a just a little more than the mandatory skeleton crew. Numbers didn't matter though; three of the right people easily outmatched ten or twelve average personnel. Still, they were all weary at this point, but it wasn't much longer until the team's mandatory rest period.

Long Shot straightened his posture as well as the rifle slung over his shoulder. He started his trot anew, knowing full well that they would make it through this.

It wasn't much longer before the commander was greeted by the ever familiar "TEN-HUT! Commander on deck!"

The commander saluted along with the personnel that occupied the briefing room. Unlike a majority of other High Risk Operation teams, Long Shot's was composed primarily of non-Nocturni, ground based combat specialists. There were zebras, earth ponies, a few unicorns, a pair of bison and a single pegasus. They all shared two very special traits; the will to fight to the death for what they knew was right, and the fire in their eyes that came with that belief. "Strike hard!"

"STRIKE FAST! SHINE BRIGHT!" the warriors finished the squad motto in perfect, bellowing unison.

"Glad to see your spirits are still high. At ease and please be seated."

After the warriors had taken their seats, Long Shot made his way to the side of a large holographic display while his second in command stood opposite him. With a few tapped keys, the display flickered to life as the lights dimmed.

"Alright Meteor, our mission is as follows." the Nocturni pointed at the holographic image of a set of buildings and the surrounding landscape. "Approximately seventy-two hours ago, one of our key border outposts was attacked and eventually overtaken by a joint force of scuzzy bastards and inbred mutts."

"How did they manage to pull that off?" Clockwork asked.

Switcher readjusted his hat, which seemed to have faded somewhat. "The scouting party reported back the following information. Textbook forward siege, a high number of soldiers alongside several warships mounted a large scale assault with the intent to inflict mass casualties while keeping the base relatively intact for their own uses."

The image faded to the current condition of the outpost: a torched skeleton of its former self. "By taking Valor Point, the Supremacy has acquired relatively unhampered access to Equestria proper. Furthermore, the base has been converted to serve as a prison. Estimates put the prisoner count between two and four hundred."

"In other words, there are likely three prisoners for every bird." Long Shot took over as Switcher entered a new command into the interface. The image changed to that of a top-down map. Several shapes and marks denoted the presence of a collapsed structure, enemy emplacements, and other such tactical information. "This mission will be a little different than the standard jailbreak. There's no cover for miles in every direction, so we'll have to be quick. The Even Odds will provide distraction artillery while myself and seven more soldiers will infiltrate the base from the ground via two dropships each containing a single squad of four. The primary objective is to incite a prison riot so the Supremacy forces there will be taken down from the inside. Radio silence will have to be maintained, but you definitely won't need a silencer. Sound good?"

The crew responded with an enthusiastic "Hooah!"

"Those are the basics and I'll provide more information on the way down. Anyone who wants to sit this one out or have any burning questions?"

No one raised their hooves.

"Any volunteers?"

As expected, the exact opposite response to the previous question occurred. Long Shot grinned. "I'll have the official roster prepared by the time we drop. Everyone, prepare your equipment for conflict and strap down the rest. Dismissed!"

"YES SIR!"

Long Shot watched them go, one by one, to prepare for war once again. He realized that it had been a surprisingly long time since he had lost a teammate, and an equally long time since he'd had a team so ready to fight and die for the cause. The Nocturni laughed under his breath as he followed them out of the room. Another day, another fight. “Nimbus, activate blink engine!”

Clockwork continued to fidget about where he stood, almost completely unable to take comfort in the presence of his friends. He was completely lucid when he said he would be perfectly content with observing the operation, but had no idea how uneasy the suspense would make him. The pegasus, his two companions, Switcher (who had been ordered to stay behind to keep the three new additions safe), and a few other crew members occupied the Even Odds’ bridge. Situated at the front of the zeppelin and almost entirely composed of magically enhanced glass (sans certain portions of the floor), it provided a perfect viewpoint of the surrounding, or in this case, the battle far below and ahead of them. Every few seconds, the room would shake lightly as the echo of cannon fire rolled through it like a sudden yet gentle wave.

Clockwork flexed his wings, taking care not to rip the bandages under which his prosthetic was concealed, for his technological achievement had yet to become knowledge to the common soldier. It all seemed so gray and dreary, as though the earth and sky were deathly sick. Why would a place like this be called “Valor Point” anyway?

“Clockwork, you appear ill. Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?” Switcher inquired.

Clockwork looked at the pegasus standing next to him. "I’m fine. It’s just. . . something doesn’t feel right about all of this. Shouldn’t a place of such strategic importance be under heavy guard? I mean, why aren't there more enemy soldiers on the ground or any warships in the sky? I'm not complaing, but where is everyone?"

Clockwork's unease only increased as he watched Switcher's muzzle scrunch up in deep consideration. When the pegasus didn't return with an answer after nearly a full minute, Clockwork gave up waiting and tried to focus on something else. As he rolled his head to loosen the tension in his neck, the stallion thought he glimpsed something out of the corner of his eye. "Does anypony have a spare set of binoculars I can borrow?"

After receiving a pair from an elderly mare, Clockwork hurried to the far forward end of the room and practically pressed his binoculars against it. After some meticulous focusing, he felt a large stone come to rest in the pit of his stomach. Almost without thinking, he darted towards the nearest radio set he could find, nearly tore the transponder from its housing, and screamed into it. "Long Shot! Commander! It's a trap!"

"Hold!" Long Shot raised his forehoof and took cover, soon joined by his teammates. "Clockwork, I told you to keep radio silence unless it's an emergency! What's going on? Is the Even Odds in trouble?"

"No, but we'll all be if you don't free those prisoners or get back to the ship immediately!"

"Mind giving some clarification, kid?"

"I just sighted one- make that two, no. . . three! There are three enemy dreadnoughts heading towards the prison and they're coming in fast."

"Well why the Tartarus are they doing that? We maintained as much stealth as we could! No one could've gotten word of-"

"No one needed to spy on us for this! Common sense was more than enough! The Supremacy knew that we'd eventually come to liberate this place, and we walked nose first into the bait! They'll vaporize this place, everyone in it, and the Even Odds if you don't-!"

The radio transmission abruptly cut off as an explosion only an airship round could achieve tore through the area just in front of Long Shot's team. The resulting pressure wave turned the group's cover to dust, and all it took were a few choice words from the Nocturni to get them moving.

As Long Shot sprinted for the entrance to the facility, he couldn't fathom how such an obvious trap had managed to fool him, those under his command, or the intelligence operatives that gave him the mission in the first place. If he and those three engineers made it through this, he would owe them all an Applejack Daniels.

When the elite soldiers of Meteor Squad made it inside and locked the door behind them, they were greeted by two unnerving sights. The first was that of a line of dead griffons, killed by their own swords in an act of militaristic, quite possibly religious, sacrifice. Long Shot sighed, Clockwork was right; the enemy soldiers within the base knew they weren’t coming home.

“Sir. Where’s Bishop? The other squad isn’t responding to my hails either.”

It was then that Long Shot came upon the second sight, or a lack thereof. Bishop, a soldier specializing in rear guard and supporting fire, was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t the kind of soldier to go wandering off on his own, and the three remaining soldiers came to the silent realization that their comrades, their friends, were gone from the mortal realm. The Nocturni knelt down and whispered a dual prayer to the alicorn of the night, that the soldiers’ deaths had been quick and painless, and that she would give his allies the strength to avenge them. “They’re in a better place now, and this just got really damn personal. I want three scuzzies dead for every member they've killed. Think you can handle that?”

“HOOAH!”

"Clockwork! Such brash action may have cost unnecessary lives!"

The pegasus spun around in both confusion and horror at Switcher's statement. "What?!"

"With the correct instruments, radio communications can easily be tracked. While your intentions were good natured and powers of observation impressive, you did not consult any superior officers before contacting forces on the ground! Furthermore, in responding, the enemy has an almost exact location on Long Shot and his teammates!"

A massive explosion shook the bridge, managing to knock a few ponies from their seats. "Situation report!" Switcher exclaimed.

"Direct hit to starboard side! Unsure of how bad the damage is but that was a serious hit! The Even Odds can't take more than another two hits like that!"

"Where is the enemy vessel?"

"Two ships are still bombarding the prison, but one broke formation to attack us." one stallion technician yelled.

"Standard dreadnought and she's just barely out of optimum range!" a mare with binoculars and a sextant added.

"Accelerate towards Valor Point, adjust for distance and return fire! Meteor Squad will not fall without a struggle!" the tan soldier ordered.

Long Shot came to a grinding halt, desperately trying to refill his lungs with oxygen. He cursed multiple times in between breaths; this whole operation had been a disaster. For all he knew, he was the sole survivor of the infiltration team, but he wasn't going to just give up and wait for death to take him to his rightful place in Tartarus. No, he was going to get this mission done.

The Nocturni bucked in several sets of doors to rooms overlooking empty, barbed wire cells. The fruitless process continued on for some time before he reached a bittersweet sight. After kicking in one of the past unopened doors, he found (judging from the decorations on the armor) a dead, high ranking griffon soldier, killed by ritual suicide similar to the ones he had seen at the entrance. The cell he had likely been assigned to oversee was filled to the brim with prisoners of war. Some were dirty and injured, others still wore tattered remnants of their uniforms. All of them seemed healthy enough to escape, but judging by the fear in their eyes where hope should've been, they didn't have the will to make a run for it.

"Hey! Everypony, up here!" Long shot desperately waved his hooves in an attempt to get the prisoners' attention. "The griffons are closing in and dropping bombs everywhere, but there's an armory not too far from here, fully stocked!" the commander pulled a what appeared to bd a "master lever" which unlocked every cell. “You all need to get going, fight back, hurry!"

It took a few seconds, but the mares and stallions below began to move, but not in the way Long Shot hoped. They were like scared lambs, and they were all going to the slaughter. He felt the urge to slam his head into a nearby wall. Dammit! That little speech wasn't worded well at all! The way he said it made it sound like-

A high-pitched whistle echoed throughout the prison complex. For the briefest moment, all turmoil appeared to cease existence. The voice of a mare replaced the whistle. It was commanding, hopeful, and beautiful. It was that same mare Long Shot had worked with back in Cloudsdale; a yellow mare with an orange mane and tail and brilliant sapphire eyes.

"SOLDIERS! ATTENTION!"

Like sheep, everyone saluted the mare that had somehow managed to gain an elevated position in the crowd. "The situation appears grim, but there is a chance that we shall live through this day. Tomorrow, we shall have returned home or to the frontlines, somewhere far better than this torture facility called a prison! The commander, who has risked the lives of both himself and his men, has given us a method to not only escape but to fight back against those that held us captive! Escape! Take up arms against the enemy! Fight back! WIN!"

Clockwork dry heaved as he felt another powerful blast shake the bridge. A large majority of non-essential staff had evacuated the ship, leaving only the bridge crew to remotely guide the Even Odds to victory or a fiery demise. Were it not for the discipline Clockwork had endured in Basic, he would've been crying his eyes out right then and there. This was all his fault, the blood of good mares and stallions was on his hooves, all because of his damned-

"Clockwork! I regret to say that the ship is lost! We must leave immediately if we are to survive!"

Without much struggle, the engineer’s focus shifted from his self-hatred to his tan, feathered companion. "I know it is not the optimum time, but I realize that what I said to you earlier was far too harsh and sincerely apologize! You have every right to be angry, but now is not the time! I have heard of your accomplishments and beg you to use your genius to salvage the situation before more good people perish!"

“Yeah Clocky! Use that big brain of yours!” Haywire added.

“I can’t fix a problem I caused! I’ll only make it worse!”

“You have to try, please!” Wetwork pleaded.

Clockwork's eyes grew wide. "Wait a second, why didn't we just teleport out of here at the first sign of trouble? The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, right?!"

"Technological limitations!" one pilot cried out as he rapidly altered the positions of different levers, switches, and pulleys. "Our blink engine is just a prototype. It needs at least three hours to safely recharge, otherwise we could potentially end up teleporting ourselves and a good portion of our surroundings into oblivion!"

Synapses lit up in Clockwork's brain in a manner akin to that of fireworks. He had an idea. It was stupid, risky, and would likely result in his own death and the guaranteed destruction of the Even Odds. However, since the ship was doomed already and he didn't care much for his own wellbeing at the moment, he decided to give it a try. "Is it possible to ram the griffon ship? Or to overload the blink engine?"

"What?!" everypony replied in panicked unison.

"Just answer me dammit!"

The elderly chief pilot looked to the only other pony left on the bridge. "Specialist?"

"Umm. . ." the mare slammed her hoof into her desk. "Given the current direction and speed of the enemy ship, plus the time we have left on the blink engine's recharge. . . yes! We can do both!"

"Reroute all power to propulsion turbines and evacuate immediately!" Switcher commanded.

Without the slightest hesitation, the pilot pulled several levers and slammed some kind of pedal to the floor before weighing it down with a nearby piece of debris. After some desperate pleading, four ponies exited the bridge. Now, it was likely that Clockwork and Switcher were the last two soldiers left on the zeppelin.

"Which way to the blink engine?"

"Follow closely!" Switcher took off down the passageway behind him, with Clockwork only inches behind. The engineer was shocked to find the frigate in an even worse condition than when he had boarded. Entire hallways had been blocked off by rubble, some of the walls and floors had given under the duress, exposing large sections of the ship to the gray sky and earth outside. While Clockwork let out more than one pained yelp as he rushed through several geysers of boiling steam, Switcher appeared unaffected. It felt like an eternity before the duo reached their destination. With some effort, the heavy doors gave way to what Clockwork found to be a beautiful sight.

In a way, the machine seemed like a crude amalgamation of a Federation steam technology and Consortium gemtech. The machine itself was colored a mixture of bronze and dark purplish-black. Large gems poked out at odd angles and a intricate web of pipes connected to the top of the engine. Despite its physical and no doubt interior complexity, it seemed untouched by the war going on outside. "Switcher, do you have any idea what we're going to do?"

The pegasus nodded, uncorking several vials as he did. "I believe so. I shall compromise the engine's hull while you sabotage its inner workings. Agreed?"

"Sounds good to me, but how do I pull off my end of the plan?"

"Turn every dial, flip every switch, and press every button!"

Both pegasi were nearly swept off their hooves as the Even Odds lurched forward but kept going. They had rammed the enemy ship and were carrying it with them, but now they were living on borrowed time. With only a few nods, the stallions attacked the blink engine like it was their only purpose in life.

By the time Clockwork and Switcher had completed their tasks, a high-pitched warning siren had overtaken the room. Rather than simply let death take them, Clockwork practically threw Switcher over his shoulder and charged towards the nearest wall. He extended his artificial wing to full breadth (causing the bandages to shred like ribbon) and swung forward. The wing cut through the wall like butter and gave way to open sky. Both pegasi took to the air, coming to a safe rest seconds later near Valor Point's recently liberated courtyard. They quietly watched the Even Odds, griffon dreadnought pinned to its nose, rocket forward into close proximity of the other two enemy ships. Suddenly, the entirety of the sky was bathed in a searing pink glow. Only a sharp PING! reached the obervers' ears as they continued to watch time and space around the Even Odds extend outwards, almost completely engulf every ship, and then suddenly implode. The only wreckage that fell from the sky that day was that of two halves of separate enemy dreadnoughts.

However, the spectacular display of falling, flaming husks of enemy zeppelins was not what caught Clockwork's attention. Nor was it the whooping and hollering of freed prisoners of war who had successfully retaken their base. No, the thing that currently occupied Clockwork's mind was the fact that he was busy pinning a struggling changeling to the gray mud below, the razor sharp primary feathers of his artificial wing hovering just barely above the insectoid-equine's throat.