Omega: Vinctus

by Goldenwing

First published 22nd of June, 2015

On the very edge of the Known World, one airship captain and his crew must fight for their freedom.

Once an airship captain, now a prisoner.

Captured and put to work in a mysterious city on the edge of the world, free from the grasp of the Equestrian Princesses, he holds no hope of rescue from the outside. He must find his crew, spread across the city of which he knows nothing, presumably to work until their untimely demise. He must escape, but others tell him there's no way, that it's never been done. Despite this, he remains steadfast. Because there's always a way out. That he knows for sure.

But how far will he go to regain his freedom?

The Storm

With a metallic screech, a rumble, and a sudden wave of heat, the fire sparked into existence.

Energized thunderclouds sprung forth from the crack in their pressurized container, sending powerful arcs of lightning streaking across the engine room. Dials spun out of control as the lightning struck them, tracing its way over the thick glass designed to hold the clouds, the metal plating which made up the walls of the cavernous room, and the maze of pipes and tubing that ran across the floor.

The flames fed hungrily upon the energy contained within the thunderclouds, the weather magic giving them a soft rainbow tint. Smoke and thundercloud alike mixed together against the ceiling as the fires danced beneath, rain pouring both from the clouds themselves, and from the freshly made hole in the roof which had started it all.

The hazardous cloud-smoke mixture was already beginning to make its way out into the hall when a unicorn stallion arrived on the scene, poking his head into the engine room, his brown eyes widening in alarm. He stepped completely into the room, narrowing his eyes as the noxious air stung at them, flinching back as a sudden burst of flame at his side singed his dull brown coat and mane.

His name was Dissero, and looking back on the scene after the heat had subsided, he took the time to express his feelings.

“Fuck!” he shouted. There was a live fire in the engine room of the airship he was on. In his experience that was very rarely a good thing.

Another pony rushed in from the hall, a lanky pegasus mare with a far more colorful deep blue coat and a small red pendant hanging around her neck by a simple string. She surveyed the scene calmly with her cool blue eyes, screwing up her nose at the acrid scent of the burning engine. An iron seam popped apart with an ear-splitting crack, spewing forth yet another rush of pressurized thundercloud, and the mare frowned thoughtfully as her red-striped blue mane flapped in the gust of wind.

Her name was Stormslider, and she had a bachelor’s degree in cloud manipulation with a focus in thundercloud combustibles. The cloud reactor was on fire, and she would have to fix that.

“This isn’t good,” Storm said, raising her voice to be heard over the inferno. “We need to contain this fire before the reactor dies completely.” One of the six energized coils in the center of the room flickered and died, and the two ponies nearly fell over as the airship lurched to one side.

“I’ll go get Ember, you stay here!” Dissero said, not even waiting for Storm to respond with “Yes, Captain,” before he galloped out of the room. He raced down the halls of the airship, taking the stairs two steps at a time to the navigation floor, nearly killing himself as the ship rumbled violently, and skidded to a stop in the cockpit.

Through the spherical glass at the front of the cockpit was a storm unlike any other in Equestria. Inky black clouds swirled furiously around each other, periodically illuminated by thick bolts of lightning arcing between them. A tornado spun into view, and the ship jerked to one side to avoid it, sending all but one of the room’s inhabitants tumbling to the hard metal floor.

The pegasus pilot was the only sure-hooved pony in the room, his legs moving with practiced ease and experienced certainty as he guided the ship through the storm. His dark orange coat seemed almost yellow amongst the flashes of lightning, his long silver mane and tail turning stark white with each bolt. Even from behind it was easy to see the wild grin on his face as he danced about the cockpit, his wings out for balance as he pulled at chains and flipped switches. A pair of old but well-maintained goggles rested over his eyes, glowing white with every flash. His name was Silver Feather, and the ship’s engines were losing power. That was making things very difficult for him.

“Dissy!” Silver exclaimed, momentarily looking away from the controls to look over his shoulder. “Where did that lightning bolt hit?”

“The reactor!” Dissero yelled back, barely able to hear himself over a particularly monstrous roll of thunder. “It’s on fire!”

A pair of hooves grabbed Dissero, spinning him around violently. He found himself face to face with a wild-eyed unicorn mare with a pale white coat and a red-orange inferno of a mane. Her name was Ember, and she held great care for any ship under her watch.

At the moment the ship under her watch was being buffeted by gale force winds, struck by lightning, and apparently was now on fire. She found that to be extremely distressing.

“The reactor’s on fire?” she hissed. “Did you leave Stormslider down there? Fuck, she’ll fuck everything up!” Not even waiting for a response, Ember shoved Dissero out of the way and sprinted out of the cockpit, leaving him sprawled on the floor.

“Hopefully those two can sort out their differences for once!” Silver shouted. He let out an audible grunt as he lunged for a lever across the room, and the airship suddenly dropped several meters to avoid a bolt of lightning.

Dissero tumbled across the room, clenching his teeth as his head slammed into something hard. Stars flooded his vision, and for a brief moment the rumbling peals of thunder were replaced with a high-pitched ringing. When his vision cleared there was a gigantic white stallion standing over him, a bottle of vodka in one hoof and unrelenting calm reflected in his pale yellow eyes. He offered his free hoof to help Dissero up, his short blonde mane framing his head like an angelic halo.

His name was Cleaver, and he was a cook. The ship he was on was in the most dangerous storm known to ponykind, the reactor was on fire, and the engines were failing.

This did not bother him in the slightest.

Dissero accepted the hoof, letting the big earth stallion pull him up like a foal’s plaything. “Thanks, Cleav.”

“You should be more careful, Kaptain,” Cleaver said in his thick Stalliongrad accent. He took a long pull from his bottle of vodka. “You could hurt yourself.”

Dissero rubbed the back of his head with a hoof as Cleaver calmly stepped into a corner, sat back on his haunches, and began to hum a terribly sad and mournful sounding tune.

“Dissy! Look!” Silver exclaimed.

Dissero’s head snapped around, following the pilot’s pointing wingtip. There ahead of the ship, for the briefest of moments, was barely visible a golden ray of sunlight. And there it was again, visible for only a moment before the thunderclouds swallowed it back up and plunged the ship back into the lightning-riddled darkness. Despite himself, Dissero felt a small wave of relief at the sight.

They were almost there.

They were almost beyond the Known World.

Author's Notes:

Title drop!

Chapter I

“All in.”

Dissero pushed his chips forwards with false confidence, taking one last glance at his cards before laying them face down on the table. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes daggers aimed straight at Silver Feather seated across from him.

The pony to Dissero’s left shuffled his bits momentarily before folding, but Dissero hardly noticed. As far as he was concerned, Silver Feather was the only true enemy at the table. Who cared if he lost his money, who cared if he was making a stupid move. He sure didn’t. All that mattered was that he beat Silver at poker. Just. One. Time.

Silver for his part was doing an excellent job of being absolutely infuriating, smirking at Dissero as if he knew exactly what the unicorn was thinking. And the worst part, Dissero thought, is that he probably did, the cocky bastard.

Silver didn’t even flinch as his turn came around, his smile growing only wider as he calmly organized a portion of his bits and pushed them lazily into the center of the table. “Call.”

The pony to his left was quick to fold, and the griffon after merely perked a brow curiously, having folded earlier in the round. It was just the two of them now, the pegasus and the unicorn, staring eachother down from across the table as the dealer levitated another card onto the table, followed shortly after by one more.

Dissero didn’t even look, keeping his eyes trained to those of his nemesis. He knew if he looked he wouldn’t see anything good. No! He mustn’t think like that, those were losing thoughts! Grimacing, Dissero looked down at the cards on the table.

Well that was no good.

He’d been beaten yet again, his two pair soundly crushed by the straight flush sitting before Silver. He sighed as yet another pile of bits disappeared into Silver’s rapidly growing collection. The pegasus winked at him as he reorganized his money pile. It was a wink that Dissero knew well. ”Better luck next time, Dissy,” it said. ”Hope ya had fun, I know I did.”

Grumbling, Dissero pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. He stretched his back as he glanced around, taking in his surroundings. He had been to many taverns all across Equestria, and a few in the neighboring lands of Gryphos and Zebrica, and there came a point where they all started to run together. He knew other merchants that were very proud of their ability to name every establishment from Baltimare to Manehattan, but he certainly was not one of them. The open spaces, clean wooden flooring, and wide brick fireplace were all typical of the average Equestrian tavern, which combined with the local musician playing a lyre on the stage and gentle chatter of the patrons gave it a very homely feel. He spotted Stormslider watching him from another table, sitting with the rest of his crew, and went to join them.

“Another week’s pay down the drain?” Storm quipped as he sat down beside her. Ember and Cleaver spared him brief nods of acknowledgment before returning to their own conversation.

“It would be, if I wasn’t paying myself,” Dissero replied, mentally subtracting the lost funds from the collection of bits he kept stashed in his quarters on the airship. “Honestly, what does he even do with all those bits?”

Storm rubbed a hoof against her chin thoughtfully, the other idly toying with her mug of cider. “That magic headset of his, I believe. The music for those aren’t cheap. Do you want a drink?”

Dissero waved a hoof dismissively. “It’s fine, I had one earlier.”

“You sure? It’s Ponyville cider, you know. We won’t be able to get anymore until we come back next year.”

After a moment’s contemplation, Dissero relented. Ponyville cider was good. “Alright, fine, I’ll take it. I’ll pay you back when we get to the ship.”

Storm nodded, raising a hoof to catch the bartender’s eye before motioning towards her mug. The bartend tipped his hat in acknowledgment, filling a fresh mug with the brew so popular in the Equestrian Heartlands and levitating it towards the table.

Dissero caught the mug in his own magic, lifting it to his lips and taking a deep drink of the warm liquid, savoring the strong apple taste as the booze ran down his throat. He immediately felt his body relax, the recent defeat forgotten in the wake of the Apple Family brew. He made a mental note to buy an extra barrel or two, for recreational purposes of course.

“It’s fine, Captain, I think I can afford it. Though I would appreciate it if you could replace those seams in the reactor room,” Storm said, looking around as she took a small sip of cider.

Dissero frowned. “Didn’t we replace those a couple months ago?”

The pegasus mare nodded again, taking on the patient tone of a teacher in a classroom. “Thundercloud reactors are extremely corrosive to metal; if the iron seams aren’t replaced every two months then the probability of a breach increases sharply.”

“But we replaced them just two months ago,” Dissero insisted. And they hadn’t been cheap, either.

“Don’t worry about it, Dissero,” Ember said, waving a hoof dismissively. “The reactor’ll be fine, those seams should last a year at least.”

Stormslider’s ears flicked, the barest hint of annoyance flashing across her normally calm face. “I think I would know better on the subject, Ember.”

Ember snorted, leaning forwards as she levitated a lighter out of her mane and flicked it open. “Oh really? And why might that be, miss Academy Star?”

Cleaver and Dissero exchanged exasperated glances, each of the stallions taking a pull at their respective drinks.

“You know full well that I have a degree from the Royal Aerial Ac—” Storm began.

“Blah blah blah,” Ember interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Just because you spent a few years reading books doesn’t mean you know everything about how a machine works.”

Storm cocked her head, her brow furrowing. “Actually, it does.”

“Hey wow, look at the time!” Dissero exclaimed, cutting off Ember’s angry retort. He glanced at the grandfather clock near the bar, curious as to the actual time, and was surprised to find that it actually was getting late. “We should probably get going. Places to be, places to see!”

Cider levitating at his side, Dissero stood up and walked back to the poker table, sending a silent prayer to Celestia that the two mares wouldn’t simply re-ignite their argument or, worse, wait until they got back to the ship to do it. It was true that Storm didn’t know as much about general machinery or structures as Ember, but the mare was better than anypony he’d met with a cloud engine. She’d gone to the Academy too, graduating with flying colors.

Coming up to the poker table, Dissero wasn’t even slightly surprised to see a couple more of the previous players simply watching irritably, their pots having apparently been emptied into Silver’s waiting hooves. Luckily, Ponyville was a relatively calm little town, and as such he had no worries of Silver’s abilities sparking yet another fight. He waved his mug around to catch Silver’s attention.

“C’mon, we’re heading out.”

“Aw, what?” Silver whined, gesturing helplessly to his pile of bits. “Can’t ya see I’m workin’ here?”

Dissero rolled his eyes. “Stay if you want. You can find your own way to Canterlot, right?”

“Pfft, as if you could fly the ship without me.”

For a moment the two stallions said nothing, simply looking at eachother. Silver smirked as Dissero frowned. They both knew the truth behind the statement.

“Whatever,” Dissero said as he turned around. “I’m not getting up to let you in once I go to bed, and I’m the only one with a key.”

“Alright, alright, fine! Sheesh.” Silver stood up, sweeping his bits into a saddlebag with a wing. “Sorry guys, I gotta head out.”

The other patrons at the table didn’t even bother to hide their relief, a few of them even pulling some fresh bits out of their bags and placing them on the table. Undisturbed by the obvious reaction to his departure, Silver slung his saddlebags on and followed Dissero out into the Ponyville night. They met up with the rest of the crew in the street, and together the five ponies made their way to the Ponyville Skyport.

Despite the high interest in the quality foodstuffs produced in the town and the lack of any major waterways nearby, Ponyville still didn’t have a very well developed aerial infrastructure. The skyport was little more than a few squat towers surrounding a cargo lift, nothing like the towering structures of Fillydelphia or the intricate network of aerial moors along the Manehattan coastline. Most trade with the town was still conducted by land-bound caravans, with the rest taken up by a single freight railway and those airships small enough to use the skyport. Ponyville simply didn’t have the money to expand upwards. And so when the crew climbed up the narrow stairway attached to their tower and clambered onto the platform at its peak, it was no surprise that only one other of the five towers were occupied.

Dissero levitated the key out of his bags and unlocked the thick metal door, holding it open for the rest of the crew to enter. He came in last, swinging the door shut with a heavy thud before turning the lock. “Better get some rest, guys,” he said. “We head out for Canterlot tomorrow.”

After saying their goodnights, his crew dissipated to their respective quarters. Meanwhile, Dissero took a detour to the cargo hold to inspect its contents, ensuring that the ship was properly stocked for the journey. One of the perks of his pegasus crewmembers, one of which was a trained cloudgineer, meant that he didn’t need to purchase any fuel for the cloud reactor, but the ship still needed food, replacement parts, and of course the delicious Sweet Apple Cider that could be sold in Canterlot for profit. Still, even though they had just sold their previous cargo and restocked, the hold was nowhere near full.

Satisfied, Dissero made his way to his own quarters, the door closing behind him with a noticeable creak. Turning the lights on with a flick of a switch, he stepped up to his desk and sat down, his eyes falling upon the map placed carefully on the wall above it.

It was an old map, around ten years to be exact, and Dissero knew every detail of it like the bottom of his hoof. Every part of Equestria was shown, as well as some areas in the lands of Gryphos and Zebrica. The ink was freshest where it described the artic wastes of the north, near Stalliongrad, and was noticeably faded around Fillydelphia, which was outlined with intricate and loving detail. Small notes had been penned into the parchment near every settlement and landmark, and in one corner the landscape of northern Gryphos had been charred by fire, the map curled up and blackened. It was an old map, and it had traveled with Dissero far and wide as he filled it in.

He frowned at the map as he mentally outlined the path to Canterlot, thinking on how he had not added anything new to it for the past year. There was still plenty of space around the edges, space he knew could be used for Minos or Mustangia, or to fill out the remains of Gryphos or Zebrica, or for any one of the number of smaller nations and city-states that dotted the Known World. He used to add things to this map regularly, always going somewhere new. He remembered when he was younger, and he dreamt of putting the whole world on this map.

But that was a long time ago, and it had been a long time since he went anywhere new. No, these days he stuck to routes already charted, nothing new.

Not since Gryphos.

With a small nod to the map, he turned and climbed into his bunk, setting his saddlebags down near his bookshelf. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and allowed the sound of the wind and the quiet groans of his airship to lull him to sleep.

Author's Notes:

Gotta say, guys. I am super excited to be back. I spent so long just rewriting these first few chapters, until I eventually settled on this iteration.

Though honestly if my co-author hadn't stopped me I probably would still be rewriting.

Chapter II

Sitting on the deck, Dissero couldn’t help but smile.

Just look at it all, the majesty of Equestria as visible only from the air! Thick white clouds floating gently past against the backdrop of a clear blue sky, framed by snow-capped mountains far in the distance. A verdant forest passed by underneath, next to a series of rolling hills that gently cradled a small village in their protective embrace. Hoofdale, was it? It was harder to remember the names of the smaller settlements; they all began to run together once you’d been to enough.

Closing his eyes, Dissero allowed himself to simply feel it all. The wind playing with his mane, the crisp scent of the chill air this far up, the gentle hum of the cloud reactor and the ever present buzz of the propellers. Here, on an airship, he was at total peace.

“Hey, Dissy!”

His eyes snapped open, the moment slipping away like a scroll in a strong breeze. “What, Silver?”

“Come check this out!”

Turning, Dissero walked up the length of the ship and down the steep stairs which led to the cockpit. Silver was there, his flight goggles over his eyes and his headphones around his neck. “What’s up?”

Silver pointed with a foreleg and, following his direction, Dissero’s eyes alighted upon what looked to be the wreckage of a small airship, the battered and smoking hull laying at the foot of a tall, rocky hill. He could spot a pegasus circling the wreck, as if searching for something.

“Take us down,” Dissero said. “They look like they could use some help.”

Silver nodded, already spinning a wheel on one side of the room. “Yeah, no problem.”

Dissero made for his quarters at a brisk trot, feeling the airship gradually losing altitude. Glancing out the windows, he saw the hill face growing closer, and for a small moment worried that they too might crash against it. He stifled the thought quickly. Silver was an excellent pilot, despite what a trained professional might tell you otherwise.

Arriving at his quarters, he quickly grabbed his first aid kid and survival package, finishing by strapping a small sheathed knife to his chest. Satisfied, he made his way to the reactor room, poking his head in to see Stormslider peering out a window curiously.

“Are we making a detour, Captain?” she asked.

“Silver spotted a crash, we’re gonna go investigate,” Dissero answered. “Head up to the deck, and bring your first aid kit.”

The blue pegasus nodded in acknowledgment, and Dissero wasted no time in stepping back into the hall. Heading to the crew quarters, he stopped before Ember’s door and knocked politely.

“What do you want?” Ember called, clearly annoyed.

“There’s a crashed ship nearby. It looks pretty beaten up.”

Almost instantly the door was surrounded in the harsh red glow of Ember’s magic as it swung open. She was laying on her bunk, a geometric puzzle resting before her. “Is it hurt?”

Dissero was careful to hide his smirk at the mare’s reaction. “I’m not sure, why don’t you come see for yourself?”

After a few moments, the door swung shut once again, and Dissero heard the sound of her hooves hitting the floor and racing across her room. The mare wasn’t a very approachable pony by any standard, but she held a strange love for machinery. No doubt she was already gathering the tools she would need to see if the crashed ship was “hurt.”

Dissero made one last stop at the lounge, a somewhat cramped room bordering the kitchen which gained its namesake solely from the presence of the table and two sofas which adorned it. Cleaver was there, nursing a bottle of vodka.

“Cleav, head up to the deck. We’re looking at a crash.”

The big white stallion raised his bottle with a murmured, “Yes, Kaptain,” and Dissero stepped out of the room.

Arriving back in the cockpit, Dissero saw that Silver had brought the ship down to hover just above the treetops, and was closing in on the wreck. Now that he was closer he could clearly see the damage done to the ship. The hull had broken into three pieces, and several smoking parts littered the hillside and the freshly formed clearing around the crash site. To his relief, he saw a few more ponies picking through the remains. He didn’t see any bodies.

“Yikes,” Silver said as they came closer. “That’s one mean crash.”

“Kind of reminds me of something,” Dissero said, looking at Silver pointedly. “You reminded of anything at all?”

“Aw c’mon, Dissy. That was eons ago,” Silver said, keeping his eyes forwards as he guided the ship over the treetops. “And besides, that other guy was trying to run us down. Y’know if I’d had a better ship I bet I coulda easily—”

“Yeah. Mmmmhm.” Dissero gave an exaggerated nod. “I’m sure you could’ve.”

“Pfft, whatever.”

The sound of hooves approached from behind, and Dissero turned to see the rest of his crew standing just outside of the cockpit, examining the crash curiously. Ember in particular seemed to be especially worried, the mare’s orange eyes flitting back and forth over the wreck.

Beckoning with his head, Dissero started for the stairs. “C’mon, let’s go.”

The four ponies clambered up onto the deck, waiting patiently as the ship drew ever closer. After a moment the pegasus hovering above the wreck seemed to take notice of them, and quickly closed the distance.

“Thank Luna you found us!” the pegasus exclaimed, her bright yellow coat nearly invisible against the light blue backdrop of the sky. “I didn’t know what I was gonna do if nobody came along!”

Dissero cocked his head curiously. It was very rare to hear an Equestrian-born pony favor the princess of the moon over that of the sun. “Are you all okay?” he asked, squinting as the sun shone into his face from behind the pegasus. “Do you need any assistance?”

The pegasus glanced back at the crash, swaying slightly in a sudden breeze. “Nobody’s hurt, I think we’ll be fine. Yes… but!” She hesitated, raising a hoof to her chin thoughtfully. “We could use your help with something.”

Dissero exchanged glances with the rest of his crew and, seeing no objections, looked back up to the yellow pegasus. “What is it?”

“It would be very helpful if you could carry our cargo for us.”

Dissero frowned, somewhat taken aback by the request. A merchant’s cargo was his life; and when an airship crashed its cargo was often all that could get the captain back into another ship. To ask another captain to transport the cargo instead was very… unusual. He wasn’t sure if he trusted this pony, but it was possible she was operating a ferry service of some type. At the very least, he could see if the destination was somewhere closeby.

He felt the ship coming to a stop and, allowing himself to sway slightly with the motion, took another look at the now much closer crash site. The crashed ship’s crew seemed to be unloading its cargo into the clearing. Surprisingly, the large wooden crates didn’t seem to be damaged in the slightest. “Where does it need to go?” he asked.

Silver Feather climbed up onto the deck, trotting up to join the rest of the crew. “Alright, what did I miss?”

The pegasus flew a little closer, her hooftips brushing against the smooth metal surface of the deck. “I need you to take these crates to Harmony City.”

“Harmony City?” Dissero had heard of the place before. An independent city-state on the far eastern edge of the Known World, nestled between the borders of Equestria and Gryphos, a haven for smugglers looking for a safe rest stop or temporary refuge. He’d even heard that the Cloudwall was weak there, weak enough for a skilled crew to get through it, out of the Known World…

But he’d learned long ago that one should take the word of a drunk airpony with a grain of salt. Again, he checked with his crew. Most of them didn’t seem to have any objections, and Silver was even nodding excitedly.

“C’mon, Dissy,” the pilot said. “Think about it. It’s been forever since we went anywhere new.”

Well, when he put it that way…

“We’ll pay you,” the yellow pegasus added.

And that just about settled it.

“Alright, sure,” Dissero said. “We’ll deliver it for you, after we hit Canterlot.”

The pegasus broke out into a relieved smile. “Oh, thank Luna. Come on, you can set down over there and I’ll have my crew load it onto your ship.”

She flew back to the crash site, and Silver hopped back into the cockpit. Dissero watched silently as his ship floated gently over the clearing and lowered itself to the ground, remaining on the deck even as his crew went to help with the loading. There was a strange feeling building up inside him, a sort of giddy excitement, an anxious curiosity that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He’d have to update his map again.

Author's Notes:

The adventure begins!

Chapter III

The Cloudwall. The last great accomplishment of Commander Hurricane before her resignation in the wake of the united Equestrian government. A creation of unparalleled scale, a thing so immense that even the most talented cloudgineers of the modern day hadn’t even a hint of its inner workings.

The textbooks said that it was created in the final days of the Golden Age of Equestria, back when its borders stretched to every end of the Known World. Commander Hurricane ordered its construction to defend against any potential threats from beyond the Endless Ocean. A gigantic hurricane which had maintained itself for a thousand years, a wall of vicious weather that nothing could hope to cross alive. Since then the Equestrian borders had shrunk drastically, with many of the other races of the Known World rising up to seize or otherwise being granted independence. Now, only the dry and lifeless northeastern wastes of Equestria were within sight of the Cloudwall at all, and the great construct had faded from the mind of the Equestrian populace, reduced to little more than a question on a history test.

What a thing to see.

Dissero and his crew, minus Silver Feather, stood on the deck with their eyes set anxiously forwards. Their tails and manes flapped wildly in the strong wind which blew in from the east, from beyond the mountain range ahead of them.

“We should be able to see it once we cross this ridge!” Dissero called, speaking loudly to ensure he could be heard over the wind.

“Here we go!” Silver yelled from within the cockpit. Dissero could see him through the open hatch set in the deck, piloting the ship with practiced ease. He pulled a lever, and the ship began to rise, gradually ascending towards the mountain ridge.

These mountains marked the border between Equestria and the independent city-state of Harmony. They carried on north for some distance, tracing the eastern coast until they dissipated into the hills of the Equestrian wastes. To the south, the mountains curved west, forming the northern border of the Kingdom of Gryphos.

Dissero had never crossed these mountains before. He had a fresh pot of Canterlot ink in his quarters, as well as a set of new quills, just waiting for him to go down and add to his map.

“Almost there!” Silver exclaimed.

The ship rose still, the tops of the propellers brushing with the cloud layer above. Dissero suppressed a shiver at the cold, crisp mountain air, condensation forming on the deck as it grazed the bottoms of the clouds. The mountain tops were nearly at eye level now. As they came closer, the ship floated up into the center of the clouds, the wetness clinging to the crew’s coats as they waited. After an immeasurable moment amidst the swirling white, where all seemed to be still, the ship began to descend once more. The mountains were behind them now.

The white mist cleared away as they lost altitude, and Dissero’s jaw dropped as he was treated to the first new sight in over a year.

A series of waterfalls poured down from the mountains, pooling in the wet plains below before rushing forth in a collection of narrow streams. They wound across the landscape like crazed snakes, all feeding into one great river which curved south, into Gryphos. On the eastern side of the river was Harmony City, a collection of cold grey constructs surrounded by a myriad of colorful merchant tents. A flotilla of ships navigated its docks, all with the strange pointed prows and curving masts which marked them as of griffon origin. The city was massive, and seemed almost as if it was being forcibly contained by the two rivers which curved around it, as if it was threatening to burst free and spread across the horizon. It’s horizontal size was impressive, but that was nothing to its vertical aspects.

For spread across the city like scattered seeds which had since grown tall were a series of towering skyports, each one made of a central spire with several layers of sturdy steel skypiers branching off, almost every pier with an airship moored. In the center of the city were seven great towers which dwarfed every other, set in a circle, each connected to eachother by a network of arching bridges, and all surrounded by a thick wall which divided them from the rest of the city.

And in the center of those towers was still another, a true beast of architecture which rose higher than anything Dissero had seen before in all his travels. It was massive, the seven other towers coming only to half its height. Piers thicker than even the mightiest in Canterlot stretched out from its lower portions, and moored to these piers was a fleet of airships which literally engulfed the city below in an impenetrable shadow. Dissero had seen many airships in his life, but these were foreign to him, with strange designs and structure from where he couldn’t even guess. Many of the ships were scattered across the breadth of the city, either coming or going from other parts of the Known World, but the largest of them were coming from the east. But how could they come from the east? There was nowhere more east than here, to the east there was nothing but… the Cloudwall.

And there it was, a sight which threatened to take Dissero’s breath away. A great black wall of rumbling thunderclouds which stretched from horizon to horizon, the blackness interrupted only by the occasional bolt of lightning. Smaller thunderclouds radiated from the Cloudwall’s edge, engulfing Harmony City in an ever-present rain before dissipating further inland. Craning his head, Dissero could just barely make out the top of the gargantuan hurricane, far higher than any airship or pegasus could ever hope to fly.

What a thing to see.

“Wow,” Ember said, eyes wide. She fell back onto her haunches, left speechless by the sheer size of it all.

“Hey, Storm!” Silver called, his goggles now raised above his eyes, nestled firmly in his mane. “How’d they make that thing?”

“I have… no idea…” Stormslider mumbled, shaking her head slowly.

Silver looked back to the great storm, mouth open. “Crazy…”

Cleaver, for his part, took a sip of vodka.

“Alright guys, let’s get ready to dock,” Dissero said, finally managing to regain control of his jaw. “We should be there by sunset.”

The crew hesitated briefly, their eyes lingering on the landscape before them, before climbing down the stairs and heading back into the depths of the ship. Dissero remained there for several minutes more, quietly staring, lost in thought.

“Hey Dissy, you alright?”

The unicorn blinked, looking down to see Silver gazing up at him curiously from within the cockpit. Taking one last breath of the cool air, Dissero climbed down the stairs. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… been awhile.”

Silver broke out into a wide grin, sliding his goggles back over his eyes. “It sure has! Pretty sweet, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know, Silver.” Dissero frowned. “We stopped for a reason, you know.”

Silver’s grin faltered briefly before coming back in full force. “Hey, c’mon Dissy. This is totally different, nothing illegal or anything!”

“How can we be sure?” Dissero asked. He sat back on his haunches, running a hoof through his mane. “Those crates are locked, so we don’t know what’s inside, and Harmony is known as a smuggler’s haven. And there’s no way those ponies were Equestrian. You heard them talk.”

“Look, Dissy.” Silver sighed, stepping up to his friend and laying a hoof on his shoulder. “Not everyone from outside Equestria is a bad guy.”

“It’s just suspicious, that’s all.”

For a few moments the stallions stood in thoughtful silence. Silver stepped back, pulling his hoof back and holding it up in front of him with another grin. “Hey, whatever happens, we’ve got each other’s back. Worked pretty well before, right?”

Dissero looked up, meeting his friend’s confident gaze. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but let a small smirk onto his face. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He raised his own hoof, bumping it against Silver’s.

“Right. So now we know I’ve got your back, and you’ve got mine, how about you go and get me a sandwich? I haven’t eaten since—hey, where’re you going!?”

Dissero rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the cockpit. “Whatever, Silver.” Ignoring the pilot’s protests, he made his way to his quarters and began preparing for their quickly approaching arrival.

Dissero was laying on his bunk some hours later, a world history book cradled in his hooves, when he heard Ember’s scratchy voice out in the hall. “Hey, we’re almost there.”

“I’ll be right up, thanks,” he replied, not even looking up from the book. He was trying to find some information on Harmony, on how it had been created, it’s laws, anything, but the independent city was strangely missing. All the book said was that the city was granted independence in the aftermath of the second Equu-Gryphon War, and no further mention of it anywhere else. Either the author had intentionally kept the city’s presence in the book sparse, or Harmony had simply stayed out of international politics for the last four hundred years. Dissero wasn’t sure which of those possibilities he found less appealing.

But he didn’t have anymore time to look into it. He shut the book closed, levitating it back into place on his bookshelf, and stepped out into the hall. After a moment’s hesitation, he ducked back into his room and fastened the knife sheath around his chest, sliding the knife into place. A pony could never be too careful when outside the Equestrian borders.

Before long Dissero had joined his crew in the cockpit, watching as the city passed by underneath. It was certainly a populous city, and by no means limited to ponykind. Even from his ship he could recognize griffons, zebras, and even a few minotaurs in the streets, all going about their business.

Silver glanced back as Dissero entered, his eyes alighting on the sheathed knife at his neck. He cocked a brow. “Really?”

“What, you didn’t bring yours?” Dissero asked.

Silver scoffed, turning back to face the front. Still, he didn’t bother to hide the pair of short daggers sheathed under his wings.

Stormslider looked between the two stallions. “Are you expecting trouble, Captain?”

Ember tossed her mane with a quiet nicker, scratching at the floor. “Not like we couldn’t handle it.”

Dissero shook his head. “Expecting isn’t quite right, but preparing for? Yes.”

“Do not worry, Kaptain,” Cleaver rumbled, bottle in hoof. “We are hardly helpless babes in thunderstorm.”

The crew fell silent once again as Silver eased the ship into place next to an empty pier. A pegasus wearing the orange legband of a dock worker hovered momentarily by the cockpit, motioning upwards before flying up out of view.

Dissero climbed up onto the dock, squinting against the rain. Now that he was outside, he could hear the constant roll of thunder in the distance, an ever-present noise in the background which never completely faded away. He waved at the dock worker, who landed on the deck.

“Your business?”

“We’re carrying cargo for a certain… Baron?” Dissero said uncertainly, following the instructions the captain of the crashed ship had given him.

The worker flicked his tail curiously. “For the Baron, huh? Alright, show me what you’ve got.”

Dissero nodded, beckoning with his head before leading the dock worker down into the ship. He led the way to the cargo hold, the sound of several other worker’s hooves against the hull echoing through the corridors as they tied it off to the pier.

Upon arrival in the cargo room, the dock worker made a beeline for the crates they’d picked up at the crash, giving them a thorough inspection. Nodding to himself, the worker started back towards the deck. “Wait here for a bit,” he said.

He left without another word, leaving Dissero even more suspicious than before. Then again, maybe he just had to deal with some customs business. It was a new city, after all, and an independent one, at that. No reason to get worked up, right?

The worker didn’t return quite as quickly as Dissero had been expecting. As a matter of fact, Dissero even began to suspect that he wouldn’t return at all. The crew had long since retired to the lounge, passing a loaf of bread and some apple jam over a game of cards, when they heard a sudden, loud bang which sounded distinctly like it was coming from the cockpit.

They all perked up, their ears angling as they strained to pick up the noise again. “What was that?” Silver asked.

Dissero could hear hooves approaching, and not only that but also… talons, several sets of talons. His pulse quickened at the dreadfully familiar sound, and he raised a hoof to his neck, feeling for the comforting presence of the sheathed knife even as the rhythmic ring of hoof on metal drew ever closer.

The dock worker appeared in the doorway, flanked by six burly and scarred griffons. “Hey, can you guys come with me real quick?”

Stormslider quirked a brow, eyeing the griffons cautiously. “Why?”

“And why’d you bring those birds in here?” Ember added, rising from her seat. “What’re you trying?”

The dock worker groaned in exasperation. He cleared his throat, exchanging a few glances with the griffons before reluctantly speaking. “By order of the President of Harmony... elected voice of the citizens, yadda yadda... you’re all under arrest.”

“What?” Ember blurted, her teeth clenching as she began to advance. Dissero raised a hoof, signaling for her to stay put. After a moment she backed off, eyes staring daggers at the griffons. Cleaver, meanwhile, took another sip of vodka before carefully setting his bottle down on the table.

“On what charges?” Dissero asked.

“Charges of—oh, y’know what, it doesn’t even matter,” the dock worker said. He gestured at the griffons, “C’mon, get em you featherbrained fucks.”

And with that, the griffons lunged.

Dissero barely had time to be surprised before one of the griffons was upon him, fierce battle cries echoing throughout the ship. Eyes wide with shock, he ducked under the swiping talons and scrambled between the griffon’s hind legs. It squawked as it flapped its wings in an attempt to keep its balance, instinctively gaining altitude, only to hit its head hard against the low ceiling of the cramped room. It fell to the floor, dazed, and Dissero delivered a swift buck to its head, knocking it unconscious.

Before he could regain his bearings, he felt something heavy slamming into his flank. He fell onto his side with a loud “oof,” the air escaping his lungs as the weight landed on top of him. He twisted his neck around to see Cleaver sprawled over him, two griffons wrestling to hold the big stallion down. Gritting his teeth, Dissero yanked his knife from its sheath with his magic, stabbing wildly towards the closest griffon. It ducked away, and Cleaver took the opportunity to headbutt the other, leaping back to his hooves as it reared back.

Dissero rolled onto his hooves, immediately coming face to face with the dock worker. Seeming almost bored, the pegasus snapped a wing out and snatched the knife out of his magic. “None of that, now,” he said, slamming a hoof into Dissero’s chin.

Stars popped into view as Dissero fell backwards, his fore hooves nursing the fresh cut on his muzzle even as his hind legs kicked out wildly. He relished the sensation of his hoof connecting, raining blows down upon what he could only hope was an enemy. All around him he heard hooves stomping, wings beating, the griffons squawking and his crew yelling. His heart was racing, the blood rushing in his ears as adrenaline flooded his body. Survival instincts and barely remembered training kicked into gear. He had to get out of this little room, get some distance, some time to see things and space to maneuver.

His vision cleared, and Dissero didn’t even bother to look around before diving for the doorway, his shoulder banging against the opposite wall as he galloped away. He sprinted down the halls, not even sure where he was going, knowing only that he had to get away even as the sound of the fight began to fade. It wasn’t until he came to a stop in his quarters, slamming the door shut behind him, that he finally had some time to think.

It was a trap. He should’ve known, he had known, if only he’d listened to himself and just stuck to the routine, idiot! That crashed crew were no Equestrians, they’d lured his crew into a trap and Celestia knew what might happen now. And then he realized that he’d just left his own crew to fend for themselves, ran away like a scared foal as they fought. Fuck!

He rushed to open his door, and it was only as he turned the latch that he realized he couldn’t hear any fighting anymore.

The door slammed open, and Dissero just barely pulled his head back in time to avoid the hard edge of the cold steel. Standing out in the hall was the pegasus dock worker, a bloody grimace on his face. Behind him were two of the griffons, each of them looking equally angry.

“Fuckin’ Equestrian!” the pegasus yelled, throwing Dissero’s own knife at him. Dissero dove to the side, his ears flicking at the sound of the knife hitting glass. Looking up, he saw his gas lamp had shattered, the flames licking at the corner of his old map, already starting to spread.

Then he felt harsh talons grabbing him from behind, and a hard hoof connecting with his head, and his world went dark.

Author's Notes:

And believe me when I say that we'll be spending more than a mere twenty thousand words in Harmony this time around.

Chapter IV

”Dad?”

His father lowers the newspaper, the brown eyes peering at him curiously. “Yes, son?”

“When I grow up, can I be in the Air Corps too?”

A smile graces the older stallion’s face. He reaches out with a hoof and ruffles the colt’s mane, chuckling. “Well son, if you work real hard at it… I don’t see what’s stopping you.”

Dissero woke with a start, his breath coming fast and shallow. He grunted as he rushed to climb to his hooves, ignoring the nausea that washed over him, teeth bared as he readied himself to keep fighting. He had to get back to his crew, had to—

He wasn’t on his ship anymore.

Damp stone brick surrounded him, the scent of stale air filling his nostrils. A wide door of heavy metal bars was set into one wall, the shadows dancing in the flickering blue glow of the magelights beyond them. High on the opposite wall was a tiny hole, a gentle trickle of rainwater dripping through as thunder rumbled in the distance.

He felt his knees going weak as the adrenaline drained from his body, replaced only with a terrible sinking emptiness. All the cuts and bruises he’d sustained in the fight came back to him as he nearly collapsed back onto the hard stone, saved only by the sudden presence of a warm shoulder at his side.

“Hey Dissy… you alright?”

Dissero turned, a small wave of relief passing over him as he saw Silver by his side. In an instant it was replaced by guilt. One of the pegasus’s eyes was a deep purple, and he was bleeding from a gash on his jaw. “Silver… fuck, Silver, I screwed up didn’t I?”

A battered Ember stepped into his field of view, her disapproving glare locked onto him, full of anger. “Damn right you screwed up! Look what you got us into!”

“Hey, shut it!” Silver barked, his head turning to face her as he guided Dissero down into a seated position. “He didn’t mean for this to happen, and any one of us could’ve left whenever we wanted. I’m sure he feels like shit already without you yelling at him.”

“Look around you, Silver!” Ember stomped a hoof angrily as she advanced on the two stallions. “This is a jail cell! Who knows what he’s gotten us into here?”

Stormslider cleared her throat, her voice calm as always despite the scrapes on her legs. “Maybe you should remember what he got you out of first, Ember?”

The fiery mare faltered at that, her mouth briefly left hanging, but not for long. She rushed up to Stormslider, pressing her face up against hers, ears back and tail flicking. “I swear to Celestia, Storm, I will burn every hair off your body if you bring that up again.”

Stormslider, for her part, seemed unimpressed. “Just don’t forget what he’s done for you.”

The two mares stared eachother down, a raging inferno versus a calm ocean. Eventually Ember looked away with a pointed “Hmph,” marching off to brood on the other side of the little cell.

In the corner of the cell, Cleaver looked up from his hooves, several small cuts on his flank. “They took my vodka,” he said, a quiet rage hidden under his accent.

Amidst all this, Dissero sat with his head down and ears low, oblivious to the rest of the world. He knew he shouldn’t have accepted the job, he knew as soon as he heard that pegasus talk that it would be trouble. And yet still, here they were, all in some vain attempt to rediscover an old sense of adventure.

“Hey, Dissy.”

Dissero looked up to see Silver holding out a hoof.

“C’mon, bud. We’ve got each other’s back.”

After a moment's hesitation, Dissero reached out to bump his own hoof against his oldest friend’s, beginning to feel his despair replaced by determination. What was he doing moping around like this? He’d gotten his crew in this situation, and by Celestia he was going to get them out! It wasn’t the first jail cell he’d been in anyways. He’d gone looking for adventure and here he was. He could handle this.

“They took, my vodka.”

“Okay, Cleav, we get it!” Silver shot an exasperated look the big stallion’s way. “They took your vodka! Okay! Y’know they took my damn goggles too and you don’t see me whining about it! Cheeky fucks!”

Cleaver frowned thoughtfully. “What about your headphones? Were very expensive, da?”

“Those are replaceable, the goggles aren’t!”

It was then that the sound of hooves began to echo down the stony corridor, and three ponies came to a stop on the other side of the bars. One looked to be a simple guard, a spear leaning against his shoulder and a set of mail adorning his chest. The second was a skinny yellow unicorn with a grey mane and pale green, bespectacled eyes, a clipboard levitating in the yellow aura of his magic.

The third was a pegasus, and Dissero was immediately put on alert by the scent which floated off of his barding, a smell which most Equestrians couldn’t even recognize, one which he thought he’d had the last of long ago.

Leather.

The dark grey pegasus looked over the trapped ponies one by one with his cold blue eyes, his grey mane cut close to his head. “Welcome,” he said, “to Harmony City.”

“You let us outta here right now you bastard!” Ember yelled, practically throwing herself at the bars. The grey pegasus showed no sign that he’d heard her.

“What did you arrest us for?” Dissero demanded. “What did we do?”

“You’ve all been given the very special honor of being placed in the service of the president, Robber Baron, delivered into his caring hooves by some clever bounty hunters.” The pegasus paused, a smug little smirk on his face. “Griffonians, very good at what they do. Tomorrow morning you’ll be escorted into the Inner City, where you’ll be able to earn food through your labor. Compliance will be rewarded, and resistance will be punished.”

“Don’t you ignore me you crisp fuck!” Ember shouted, banging against the bars with her hooves. “You think you can get away with this? Huh!?”

The pegasus looked at Ember as if seeing her for the first time, eyeing her up and down. “Looks like they’ve given us some more good stock,” he said, speaking to the unicorn at his side.

“Yes, sir,” the unicorn agreed.

“The Princesses will not simply allow Equestrians to be forced into servitude,” Stormslider stated.

The pegasus turned his eyes on her, the smirk growing wider. “Really? Harmony is very close friends with Gryphos, you know. I don’t think your Celestia will risk another war to save a few ponies. She’s a shrewd strategist, and very utilitarian.”

“You’re wrong,” Dissero said, standing up to his full height. “She cares for all of her ponies, each and every one.”

“Think what you will, Equestrian,” the grey pegasus said. “You speak of matters far, far bigger than you can ever hope to be.”

Silver Feather stepped calmly up to the bars, his wings spread as if for a fight, locking eyes with the pegasus. “What’s your name?” he asked.

The grey pegasus’ smirk broke out into a confident grin. “My name is Ashfall. I’d advise you spend the night wisely. You may not have so much time to relax in the future.”

With that, Ashfall turned and walked away, ignoring Ember’s yelled promises of retribution. The yellow unicorn and guard pony followed suit, their hoofsteps slowly fading into nothingness.

It was not a very eventful night.

At first they had tried searching for some weakness in the cell, some means of escape, but with no luck. The bars were too sturdy, the window was too small, and the bricks laid too smooth. It wasn’t even two hours, if the dim sunlight was any indication, before the crew collectively decided that they wouldn’t be leaving the cell without some means of outside help.

After another bout of arguing the cell lapsed into a heavy silence for the remainder of the night. There was no bed, leaving only wet bricks to sleep on, and so the crew huddled together for warmth as they settled down. All except for Ember, who pointedly slept on the opposite side of the cell, claiming that she could warm herself up with magic if she wished.

Dissero, for his part, didn’t sleep well, and really he wouldn’t describe what he did that night as “sleep” at all. He was convinced that Ember was right, that everything really was his fault, and as such he took upon himself the responsibility of getting his crew out. He strained to remember what he’d seen of the city from above, to analyze its layout, but he had been so entranced by the Cloudwall and the architecture that his efforts were largely in vain. He would need more time to make an effective plan, but still his mind raced, fruitlessly going over the same points again and again. Because if he wasn’t planning escape, then what else had he to think on but his own guilt? He would get his crew out, and then…

Then what?

He was stirred from his thoughts by the sound of ringing chainmail echoing down the hall. Lifting his head, he looked up to the tiny window in the wall and was surprised to see that morning had already come. His empty stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything since noon yesterday.

Suddenly the cell door swung open, the heavy metal causing the hinges to release a high-pitched shriek that caused Dissero to wince in pain. Silver Feather’s head shot up in alarm at the noise, while the rest of the crew began to wake more gradually.

Standing in the doorway were two guard ponies, each armed with a spear and wearing matching sets of mail barding. “Get up, you lot,” one of them said. “Time to head into the city.”

Ember let out a vicious yell, scrambling to her hooves. Before anyone else could even signal for her to calm down she was already charging at the guards, nostrils flaring and horn glowing.

They easily sidestepped her wild attack, smirking at each other as the mare passed between them. One of them swept her hooves out from underneath her with his spear, sending her sprawling into the stony floor with a strangled yelp, while the other followed up with a swift slap to her head with the flat of his spearhead.

“Anyone else?” the first guard challenged, looking back into the cell.

Dissero placed a cautioning hoof on Silver’s shoulder, knowing that he would be tempted to attack the guard’s as well. Silver looked back at him, the question clear on his face, and Dissero gave a subtle shake of his head. There would be a time for fighting, but it wouldn’t be when they were in the middle of some foreign dungeon.

The pegasus hesitated, but nodded nonetheless. He understood.

“Good to see the rest of you have some brains. C’mon, then.”

The crew were guided out into the corridor, with one guard on either side of them. Ember groaned as she climbed to her hooves, encouraged by the poking and prodding of the nearest guard. They were escorted through the dimly lit halls at a brisk pace, passing several other occupied cells along the way, and it was only then that Dissero realized how weak he was. He’d sustained several injuries in the fight on the airship, and the total lack of food wasn’t helping. He even thought that he could feel his legs beginning to shake.

They reached the bottom of a sturdy stone staircase, where another pair of guards were waiting. The crew was split up, with Ember, Cleaver, and Stormslider continuing down the hall while Dissero and Silver Feather were guided up the stairs.

Dissero couldn’t help but curse his luck. He could hardly plan an escape if he didn’t even know where his crew was. He’d have to find them as soon as possible, he thought, grimacing as he climbed up the stairs.

They seemed to go on forever, up higher and higher and higher, past level upon level. As they went up, the rooms began to grow more welcoming and clean. Rugged stone blocks were replaced with exotic marble mosaics, and the dungeons and jail cells were replaced by open, well-lit halls. What kind of prison was this, that put its victims on the ground floor and everything else above them?

Finally they reached the top of the stairs, stepping out into the damp blue-tinged daylight of Harmony, and Dissero was able to get his bearings.

He was on the great wall he had seen before, the one that separated the massive towers from the surrounding city. Hundreds of airships floated above, almost completely blotting out the sun, the rain falling in sheets as it slid off their gleaming hulls. Outside of the wall, Harmony seemed to be a relatively normal city, if a bit unusually diverse and with an unusually gloomy atmosphere. Citizens moved about their business with purpose and energy. Inside the wall, however, things were drastically different.

For the most part the Inner City was little more than huddled together shacks and narrow dirt paths. The buildings were made of scrap metal and rotting wood, sloppily propped up against eachother and secured with wet ropes with myriad colors that clearly marked them as pony hair. Dissero thought he could even recognize airship parts incorporated into the structures. Here a propeller casing used as a hut, there a wing masquerading as a roof, and there a steel hatch set into the frame of a wooden shanty. The dirt paths which wound between the makeshift constructs were sparsely populated compared to the Outer City, with the ponies walking through them with drooping tails and heads low, their colors dull and lifeless.

Further into the middle of the city, the architecture became more sturdy. Squat buildings made of concrete or brick were lined up in neat rows, the blocks separated by wide cobblestone streets. Smokestacks rose from some of the larger buildings, while others had massive sliding metal doors, or open tops with the tops of cranes poking out. Industrial buildings, no doubt.

Also scattered across the Inner City, placed seemingly with neither rhyme nor reason, were strange, twisting spires of glimmering black stone. Angry red scars of some ore Dissero couldn’t identify marred their surfaces, and the larger spires had even been fashioned into outposts, with small towers jutting up from their tips.

It had been difficult to see all these details before, from his airship, covered in shadows as the Inner City was. But now, as he and Silver were prodded into a small cage suspended over the edge of the wall by a simple rope and pulley, it was becoming decidedly more obvious to Dissero what had happened.

He’d been captured, enslaved, and was just minutes away from taking his first step into what had to be one of the most elaborate slave labor camps in the Known World.

The cage door slid shut with a loud rattle, causing it sway slightly in the wind. Silver grabbed the bars with a hoof, looking down. “Helluva drop, huh?” he said.

“And a hell of a climb,” Dissero replied, scanning the base of the wall. It was hard to pick out details on the opposite side, but as far as he could tell there weren’t any openings at all. It seemed the only way in and out was through these caged lifts.

He turned to look at the guards. “You guys don’t have to do this, y’know, it isn’t right. We haven’t done anything wrong.”

One of the guards let out a harsh laugh. “Hah! Nobody gets into those cells without doing something wrong, believe me. I’ve tossed countless criminals into the walls, don’t need to know what every one's done to know it’s justice.”

The cage jerked into motion, the sound of the pulley squeaking above fading away as they were lowered down. The two stallions scanned the city below in silence as it grew steadily closer. After several minutes, Silver spoke again.

“So once we get down there, we’re gonna go and find everyone else, yeah? And snatch my lucky goggles?”

“I’m not sure it’ll be that easy, Silver,” Dissero said. He sat back on his haunches, wincing as the cage gave a vicious jolt. “We don’t know where the others were taken, or if they’ll even be kept in the city. We don’t know if we’ll be guarded, what we’ll be made to do, and I don’t know about you but I haven’t eaten in over a day. We need to get some food.”

Silver grimaced, looking down at his belly as it rumbled. “Y’know, now that ya mention it…”

“Right, so here’s what we’re gonna do. First, we find some food. Then we find the crew, and then we get the hell out of here.”

“Anything after that?” Silver asked, his wings out slightly for balance. “Maybe get an audience with the Princesses, get this place shut down, yeah?”

Dissero shook his head. “That Ashfall pony may not have been lying when he said that Equestria wouldn’t risk interfering. And if the way we were lured here is any indication, Harmony might have operatives inside Equestria. We shouldn’t risk it, we should just get out and leave the place be.”

After a moment, Silver gave a little nod. “Alrighty, Dissy. I’ll stick with you.”

The cage struck the muddy surface below, sending a small shock up Dissero’s legs with the impact. It had set down in a small clearing, a rare open space in the cluttered and messy shantytown of the Inner City, surrounded on one side by the massive wall and on the other by makeshift homesteads. For nearly a full minute the gentle pitter patter of rain, the muted hum of the airship engines above, and the distant rumble of far away thunder were the only noises. And then, with a tired squeal, the cage door slid open.

Dissero considered simply staying within the cage, simply refusing to comply, but quickly discarded the thought. No doubt the guards had a way of dealing with such ponies. There would be a time for rebellion, a time to fight, but that time hadn’t come just yet.

Taking a deep breath, Dissero took the first step into his new prison.

Author's Notes:

A little hint of things before, and things to come.

Also I'm totally referencing prior editions in these notes. Welcome to the in-crowd!

Chapter V

Dissero was only just beginning to appreciate how wet it got in Harmony City.

It had been hard to realize earlier, between being inside an airship and inside a prison, but now that he and Silver were outside, trudging their way through the limitless mud, their coats drenched under the endless rainclouds that were cast off by the Cloudwall before passing over the city, it was hard to ignore. Harmony was very, very wet.

The two stallions made their way slowly through the city, walking the mud paths with little sense of direction and scanning their surroundings for any sign of a source of food. Other ponies passed by, wearing long cloaks which seemed to be cut out of old airship balloons, their eyes tired and their coats drained of color.

“Not a very happy place, eh?” Silver said, nudging Dissero jokingly.

Dissero eyed him sternly. “This is serious, Silver.”

Silver shrugged, looking away. “Hey, alright. Just tryin’ ta lighten the mood. What’s that over there?”

The pegasus pointed with a wing, indicating a drooping stall constructed of an old table, some wooden posts and a sheet of heavy fabric. A bored looking earth pony sat beneath the fabric, her unkempt coat comfortably dry. She had some scrawny vegetables laid out on the table before her.

“Look’s like exactly what we need,” Dissero said. “C’mon.”

The two stallions approached the stall, dipping their heads in greeting. “How much for some, uh… sweet potato?” Dissero asked, scanning the paltry selection. He levitated a small coinpurse out of his mane, grateful for the laziness of the guards that had searched him.

The mare quirked a brow. “What’ve you got?”

Dissero frowned, exchanging a confused glance with Silver. The pegasus grabbed the coinpurse out of his magic, waving it around. “Aren’t you supposed to… I dunno, give us a price first?”

If the mare was offended by his tone she showed no sign of it, her eyes drifting slowly to the purse. “What’s that?”

“It’s, uh, bits.” Dissero grabbed the bag back, spilling a small pile of bits onto the counter. “To buy things.”

The mare stared at the bits in silence, seeming unimpressed. “What do you expect me to do with these?”

Dissero blinked, taken aback by her response. “Buy… things…?”

The mare snorted, pushing the bits away. “These little coins are worthless to me. Bring me something I can use and then maybe we’ll talk.”

The two stallions exchanged yet another glance, Dissero’s uncertainty meeting Silver’s annoyance.

“Okay, lady, look here,” Silver said, banging a hoof against the table. “We just now got in this joint, not even two hours ago, and me and my friend here are a little lost. Now how can a couple handsome stallions like ourselves get something to eat around here?”

The mare cocked her head, slowly looking up from her freshly scattered wares. “Do you have anything to barter? Something that might of fallen off an airship, or that you’ve crafted or grown yourself?”

Silver faltered briefly before pressing on, even more agitated. “Well, no, but what are we supposed to do? Sit around on our plots all day till something you like falls out of the sky and hits us on the head?”

After a moment the mare’s eyes widened slightly, as if she had just finished interpreting his earlier words. “You’re new?”

Dissero nodded firmly, pulling Silver back as he stepped in front of him. He hardly needed his friend’s impatience getting in the way now. “Yes. Please, can you help us?”

The mare began to slowly sort the vegetables back into order on the table. “Most of us do work for the Baron in exchange for food,” she said. She pointed over Dissero’s shoulder. “There’s the closest place you can find work. Most of the jobs open up in the morning. I’d get there soon if I was you.”

Dissero followed the mare’s pointing hoof, squinting to see through the rain. In the distance he could just make out the rigid, clean lines of a concrete building a few stories tall, rising above the surrounding shacks. It seemed to be separate from the other more traditional buildings, set in the midst of the makeshift shantytown instead of amongst the towers in the center of the city.

“Alright, thanks,” Dissero said. He turned to smile at the mare, but she had already looked away, her focus back on organizing her stall. He tried again, levitating a few bits out of the purse and leaving them on the table, but still she didn’t look at him. His smile faltering uncertainly, Dissero decided to just beckon to Silver and walk away.

Silver waited until they were out of hearing range before speaking. “You really oughta stop trying to be so polite, y’know Dissy?”

“To the contrary, Silver, you need to learn how to talk to ponies,” Dissero responded. “We’re lucky you didn’t offend that mare or we wouldn’t have gotten anywhere with her.”

“I think it was pretty obvious we needed to try a more straightforward approach, and y’know what? I was right!”

“Oh, whatever.”

They lapsed into a companionable silence, Dissero leading the way through the winding mud trails, straining to keep track of the building through the rain and disorienting paths. As they grew closer to their destination the city grew more crowded, though never nearly as populous as it was outside the wall. He saw ponies pulling rickety wooden carts loaded with all sorts of trinkets and supplies, haggling over trades under the cover of their stalls, and even crafting clay pots in the thresholds of their homes. And though the Inner City was predominantly Equestrian, Dissero still managed to pick out a few zebra and a close-knit group of griffons.

Before long they arrived at an open stone courtyard watched over by a rectangular concrete three story building. An iron fence with firm stone posts surrounded the building, the only entrance guarded by a matching iron gate, currently open. Standing in the courtyard were a few ponies who, despite looking just as colorless and exhausted as everyone else Dissero had seen here so far, were noticeably chubbier. They stood with clipboards held or levitated before them and steel in their eyes, their loud voices traveling easily over the crowd gathered before them.

“Ten more ponies for sewer duty!”

“I’ve got thirty positions for the foundry! Foundry work open!”

“Looking for ponies with mechanical skill to work in the shipyards!”

“I need twenty strong backs to haul cargo! Put in some work and earn your meals!”

“Fifty spots in the mines! Extra rations!”

Ponies stepped out of the milling crowd, words were scribbled on clipboards, and the workers marched away in groups towards the center of the city, ready to work another day in exchange for food. Standing on top of the concrete building, partially hidden by the raised edges of the roof, were what looked to be heavily armored guards, their faces blocked by tinted glass visors.

“They look like some mean fuckers, huh?” Silver said, flicking his tail. “So now what?”

Dissero shrugged, looking around. “I guess now we go get a job.”

Silver grimaced, his wings fluttering with irritation. “We’d better get outta here fast, Dissy. I don’t like being made to work for some bastard just to eat.”

“You worked for me just to eat.”

“I don’t think I was really working for you so much as helping you run my ship.”

“Oh yeah?” Dissero allowed a small, mischievous grin on his face. “I guess that’s why I chose where we went, handled all the cargo and finances, decided when we made and left port, and had the only set of keys?”

“Now look here.” Silver put a hoof on Dissero’s shoulder, drawing him closer, his voice a faux mockery of seriousness. “Just because I know how to delegate, doesn’t mean you’re in charge.”

“Right, of course.” Dissero pushed him back playfully before started towards the building. “C’mon. Whatever we do, we’ll at least do it together. How bad could it be?”

They pushed their way towards the front of the crowd, debating along the way which job they were the most interested in or, as Silver put it, the least not interested in. Sewers they immediately agreed to avoid, on the grounds that being in sewers was bad enough without it also being foreign sewers in what was possibly the wettest city east of Canterlot. Hauling didn’t sound like it would be easy and they were hardly qualified as mechanically skilled, so those were out too. Dissero thought it was suspicious that there were so many mining jobs, and that the work paid extra rations, so they discarded that choice. By the time they had made it all the way through the throng of ponies, they agreed to sign up for the foundry. It sounded like it was the least physical of the jobs.

They approached the stocky, faded green unicorn stallion calling for foundry workers, Dissero clearing his throat. “We’d like to take a couple positions in the foundry.”

The stallion didn’t even bother to look at them, simply nodding towards the group gathered behind him as he made some marks on his clipboard. They placed themselves along the edge of the group, Silver’s tail flicking as he scratched at the ground irritably.

It wasn’t long before they were heading out, following the rest of their group towards the center of the city. After roughly twenty minutes of walking the group made it out of the shanty town, entering amongst the clean stone lines of the central core of the city. Despite the rainclouds, it was almost completely dry in this part of the city, so thick were the airships and towers above. They passed warehouses with teams of ponies straining to pull heavily-laden wagons in and out, and shipyards with the partially finished skeletons of airships within, the sounds of hammers and saws leaking into the streets as ponies scuttled around the scaffolding.

More of the armored guards watched from the rooftops, always in pairs, sometimes patrolling through the streets themselves. Now that they were closer, Dissero was able to pick out the details in their equipment. They wore layered plate panels, with chainmail visible through the uncovered areas around the joints. They walked with a strange mechanical stiffness, their tails completely shaved off, and it seemed like they were all earth ponies, as Dissero saw no sign of wings nor horns. Strapped to their sides were unusual instruments which Dissero didn’t recognize: they looked almost like muskets, but were shorter and slimmer than any musket he had ever seen, their smooth grey surfaces covered in strange runes.

Soon they arrived at the foundries, a collection of brick buildings each labeled with large numbers painted on in white. Dissero saw several other groups coming in from other parts of the city, scanning them hopefully, but saw no sign of his crew.

“Alright, laborers!” the green stallion began, his voice harsh and loud. “The good Baron’s been ramping up my quota this month, and y’know what that means? Means you’d better not even think of slacking or I’ll have you working twice as hard, and with no pay!”

He levitated his clipboard up to his face, making his way through the crowd, tapping each pony on the shoulder with a quill before assigning them to work either “up top” or “down below.” Dissero and Silver were both assigned to work “down below” and, following the lead of the other ponies, made their way into the foundry.

Inside the only light came from a few open metal shutters near the roof, the damp blue-tinged sunlight illuminating the heavy metal tubs and molds used for melting and shaping metal. “Down below” seemed to refer to the basement level, accessible by the narrow stairway set into a corner near the entrance. The basement ceiling was low, nearly low enough to hit Dissero’s horn, the room largely barren but for ten brick fire pits spaced throughout. Next to each pit was a wooden chute that came down from the level above, the wood stained black with coal dust. There were no windows here, the room dimly lit by a few sparse magelights.

The other ponies began to sort themselves into teams of two, one unicorn and one pegasus each, and taking up a station next to a fire pit. Beckoning to Silver with his head, Dissero led the way to a pit in one of the far corners, the two stallions waiting uncertainly upon arrival.

For a while, nothing seemed to happen. The noise of machinery and heavy objects moving came from above while they sat in silence, until suddenly the chutes began to rattle violently. Dissero was nearly crushed by the torrent of coal that poured out of the closest chute, leaping out of the way just seconds before the pile of coal landed on top of him.

“Woah, fuck!” he said, coughing at the cloud of coal dust kicked up by the fall.

Silver flapped his wings in an attempt to dispel the cloud of dust. He grimaced as more coal fell into the room from the other chutes, filling it with the black substance. “This can’t be healthy.”

Around the room, the unicorns began to levitate coal into the fire pits, igniting them with switches built into their sides. Their pegasi partners fed the burgeoning embers oxygen with their wings, nursing them into fiercely burning flames. The room began to fill with the acrid scent of burning coals, and Dissero could see many of the ponies covering their muzzles with old bandannas and soot-stained rags.

“Guess we’d better get started then,” he said, searching for the switch on their own furnace.

“Hey, woah, what’s the rush?” Silver asked, covering his muzzle with a wing. “Let these guys do the work. That overseer is upstairs.”

“They’re gonna notice if there’s no heat coming from here, Silver.” Finding the switch, Dissero levitated some coal into the pit and turned it on. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not gambling my food on the bid that nobody cares enough to make sure we work. Put your pride aside and flap.”

“Pfft, fine. I guess it couldn’t be that bad…”

As it turned out, it was that bad.

Load after load of coal dropped down the chute, load after load floated into the fire pit as Dissero began to develop the terrible aching head pain of magic fatigue. Silver was flapping near constantly to keep the fire going, the damp coals, sometimes dripping wet, doing little to help. The overseer came down with his clipboard, yelling threats of starvation punctuated with slaps about the head. Time passed by in a hazy twilight as the outside world fell away. There was nothing but the coal, nothing but the fire. Levitate, flap, repeat. The pain rising, building up like his head and horn were about to explode, the ache spreading from his shoulders to his wingtips and down into his very bones until it overcame all other sensation. Eyes stinging from the dust, throat scratchy and parched, coat singed by the fire.

A whistle rang out, and Dissero was vaguely aware of the work day coming to an end. It was hard to think at that point, when the magical fatigue passed on from a mere headache and into a mental haze of grogginess that could only be described as a temporary retardation of thought. He followed the silver mane, the orange wings, felt a bag being given to him and knew it was important.

Dissero didn’t know how long it had been when he was finally capable of coherent thought again. He found himself tucked in a covered alley between two shacks, with Silver Feather sorting through a couple burlap sacks before him. A small fire crackled besides them, providing some light in the night time as it fed hungrily off of some rotting wood. The rain had picked up some, falling in heavy sheets out in the dirt street, but here they were kept relatively dry.

“This is it?” Silver asked incredulously, pulling a pitiful apple out of one of the bags. “Stale bread, an overripe apple, and a few strings of hay each. Awesome.” He looked up to see Dissero looking at him. “Are you back yet?”

“Yeah. Yeah I’m back,” Dissero said, shaking the cobwebs out of his mind.

“Finally, that zombie thing you unicorns do when you’re drained is creepy as hell. Here’s your share.” Silver pushed one of the bags over to him with a wing.

“Thanks.” Dissero went to levitate the bag closer, only to be interrupted a harsh spike of pain in his horn. There’d be no magic until he recovered some more, he’d have to use his hooves.

The two stallions settled down on their bellies, huddled together for warmth as they began to eat.

“That was pretty shitty,” Silver said, taking a cautious bite out of his apple.

“Yeah.” Dissero opted to go for the bread. He’d save the apple for dessert.

“Took all day, too.” Satisfied by the taste, Silver took another, far larger bite.

“Yeah.” The bread was pretty stale. But then he was hungry as a pony that hadn’t eaten in two days, so it would do.

“If we do this every day, we’ll have no time to look for the others.” The apple was nearly gone already, only the core left to be on.

Dissero paused, looking at his bread. It was half-eaten already. “We should save some, to eat tomorrow.”

Silver nodded, rolling the apple core in his hooves forlornly. “Yeah.”

“Hey, you two!”

The stallions looked up at the voice, squinting to see into the darkness beyond their fire. A trio of mares stepped into the light, each outfitted in layers of dirtied rags.

The largest of the mares, a pegasus with a coat that might once have been blue, eyed them greedily. “Looks like you haven’t paid your taxes yet.”

“Uh, what?” Silver grunted with exertion as he climbed to his hooves, even exhaustion unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Sorry, I thought one of the perks of slavery was no taxes.”

The big mare exchanged a few condescending glances with her comrades. “You must be new here, let me explain.” She sat down, speaking as if to a childish foal. “You are slaves, you work for the Baron to eat. We are rebels, we don’t do that, we’re independent. And since you want to be free, I’m assuming, you should support your local rebels, and give them food so they can fight and eat at the same time.”

“Go beg someone else for donations,” Silver said, swaying on his hooves. “We need this food, all of it.”

“I don’t think you quite heard her right,” the washed out white earth pony to the big mare’s left said. “If you don’t give us food, we can’t fight. Ya’d might as well be supporting the Baron acting like that.”

“And we don’t much like Baron supporters around here,” the third mare finished, brushing a wing against the pipe metal strapped to her side.

Dissero narrowed his eyes, tensing. “Are you threatening us?”

Silver snorted, flaring his wings out. “Like these cheeky fuckers could threaten us. Leave us alone, we aren’t giving you anything.”

“Well aren’t you a regular circus? Alright… have it your way.”

The lead mare flapped her wings, picking herself up off the ground to kick at Silver with her hind legs. He tried to dodge, but as tired as he was he only really managed to fall to the side. The second pegasus was on him in an instant, pushing down on his neck with one hoof while another stomped on his side.

“Hey!” Dissero clambered to his hooves, clenching his teeth as he tried in vain to push the mare off with a wave of magic. The third mare knocked him over with a single hoof, pinning him down beneath it.

“Well, now that we’ve captured you traitors, why don’t we confiscate these invaluable supplies?” The lead mare said. She picked up the two bags of food with a wing, ignoring the stallions strained protests, and tucked them into the satchel strapped to her back. “And how about a little justice for the feisty one?”

The pegasus mare atop Silver grinned, nodding eagerly. Grabbing one of his wings in her mouth, she stretched it to its full length. Silver kicked out viciously, his wings trying to flap in vain. The mare twisted her mouth, and a sickening pop echoed into the night. Silver bit back a scream, gritting his teeth even as she jabbed a hoof into the dislocated wing, snapping the bone in two.

“Alright, then. Let’s go.” The mares stepped back, the leader heading back out into the rain. She paused, reaching into her bag, and tossed something into the dirt before Dissero. His half-eaten loaf of stale bread. “Here,” she said. “A gift from Cell Spade.”

They disappeared into the night, leaving Dissero to scramble to his old friend’s side.

Author's Notes:

Introducing another Secret Origin of Scootaloo.

Chapter VI

They ended up eating the last of their food that night.

Dissero found himself in a strange dilemma. He wanted to stay up, to help Silver somehow even though he knew next to nothing besides the most basic first aid, and they certainly didn’t have anything that could be used to treat his wing. But as much as he tried, he couldn’t keep his eyes open, the mental fatigue from his magical exertion pulling him into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Silver Feather, meanwhile, didn’t get any sleep at all. He spent his night curled up in a little ball of pain, gritting his teeth, nursing his wing, and imagining all the ugly things he’d do to those “Cell Spade” mares the instant he could walk again without feeling dizzy.

The next morning, having learned to cope with the pain in his wing, Silver set about the task of waking up his drained unicorn friend. Though the average pony would probably have began with some gentle nudging or whispered name calling, Silver was far more experienced in these matters and cut straight to the chase, using the empty food bag to gather some rainwater before dumping it on Dissero’s face.

Dissero’s eyes shot open in alarm, his hooves waving about as he gagged and coughed. “Agh fuck, Silver!”

“What, rough night?” Silver quipped. “Was it good for you too?”

Still coughing, Dissero rolled onto his belly before standing up. “Ah, fuck… what happened last night? I’m sore all over… Where are we?”

Silver said nothing, only waiting patiently.

Dissero eyed him expectantly for a few seconds, until the amnesia commonly associated with magic fatigue wore off, and the memories of the last couple days came rushing back to him. “Oh, right.”

“So what’s today’s plan, Dissy?” Silver looked out into the street, wincing as the movement jostled his wing. The rain had let up into a slight drizzle, and the street was livelier than yesterday. He frowned at the sight of a few foals running past.

Dissero sighed, following Silver’s gaze. “Well we’re out of food, still hungry, no closer to finding the others, and your wing is broken.” Seeing his friend’s wing hanging limply by his side, bent awkwardly in the middle, Dissero couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.

“Looks like we’re in quite the pickle, huh Dissy?” Silver looked back to offer a characteristic grin, only for it to be replaced by a wince of pain.

“We’re fine, we can still do this,” Dissero said, climbing to his hooves. His stomach grumbled loudly as he spoke, reminding him of how long it had been since its last proper meal. “We’ll just… I’ll go to the foundry today, and you ask around for the crew and… we’ll meet back here tonight, then find somewhere to hide.”

“Are you two alright?”

The stallions looked around in surprise to find an earth pony mare standing in the street, just outside of their small shelter. Her coat was still just recognizable as a warm purple, and though its colors may have faded, her matching purple eyes still held a glint of lively hope uncommon in the Inner City. Her dull magenta mane was cut short and unkempt, the dirtied hairs tangled together as if they hadn’t been combed in years. Emblazoned on her flank was the image of a single, glowing white feather. A pair of burlap sacks hung at her sides, attached to eachother by a rope the same color as her mane.

Silver opened his mouth to say something snarky, but Dissero was quick to cut him off. “Do you know where we could find a doctor?”

The mare’s eyes traveled down to Silver’s injured wing, her gaze hardening at the sight. “Come with me.” She turned, heading down the street at a brisk trot.

“What, I can’t talk now?” Silver asked, flicking his tail.

“Not when you’re about to say something stupid,” Dissero answered, beckoning with his head. “Now let’s go get you fixed up.”

Silver rolled his eyes, his good wing fluttering irritably, but nonetheless he joined Dissero in following the mare. She led them through the maze of muddy streets with the confidence of a pony that had been in Harmony for a long time, past the crowds waiting to begin the day’s work in front of the fenced in, concrete building, and to a relatively large shack built from scrap metal sheets. Unlike most of the buildings Dissero had seen here, this one seemed to be fairly well constructed, and was even held together with actual nails.

“This is my clinic,” the mare said as she held the door open. “Come in and take a bed. I’ll be with you in a bit.”

Dissero dipped his head obligingly as he stepped past the threshold. “Thank you.”

The clinic was wide and open, with scattered candles and sunlight streaming through cracks in the walls illuminating a half dozen mattresses laid out on the floor in a couple clean rows. Along one row was a makeshift table formed from wooden crates covered with a long strip of balloon fabric, several small clay pots and bowls arranged atop it. Next to it was a short wooden table in surprisingly good condition, the first piece of actual furniture that Dissero had seen in Harmony. It was entirely clear, decorated only by an blanket marred by dark red stains. The rain beat a staccato rhythm as it fell against the metal roof, the tinny notes echoing slightly.

Most of the beds were empty, with the sole exception of one in the far corner. A zebra was resting on it, a strip of fabric wrapped around his barrel, seeming practically dead but for the barely perceptible rising and falling of his chest.

Silver chose a bed close to the door, sitting on it gingerly, shifting side to side as if he was itching to run outside. “What happened to the zebra?”

The mare picked her bags up off her back and placed them on the long table, opening them to reveal the green leaves and colorful flowers inside. She began to sort them into piles, her voice kept carefully level as she spoke. “He was shot by one of the Baron’s guards.”

“Yeah?” Silver sat up a little straighter, trying to see the zebra’s face, but he was turned towards the wall. “What for?”

“For rebelling against the Baron,” she said.

Silver frowned thoughtfully. “So he’s a rebel?”

The mare mixed a few herbs together in a bowl, mashing them up with a clay mortar. “That’s right.”

“Silver,” Dissero cautioned.

“Pfft,” the pegasus scoffed, flicking his tail. “Fuckers aren’t so tough once they get a bullet in ‘em, huh Dissy?”

There was a loud thunk as the mare dropped her pestle on the table, turning sharply on Silver. “What was that?”

“Silver.” Inwardly, Dissero couldn’t help but sigh in frustration at his friend’s utter lack of tact.

“These rebel fucks,” Silver repeated, looking down on the wounded zebra. “Go around stealing food and breaking wings, acting all tough. Nice to see a little karma coming their way.”

The mare narrowed her eyes. “Who broke your wing?”

“Some rebels.” Silver waved a hoof dismissively, wincing at another jolt of pain. “Called themselves ‘Cell Spade’ or whatever-the-fuck.”

After a tense moment, the mare turned back to her work. “Cell Spade are not true rebels. They are bandits, just wearing the title to justify their petty crimes.”

Dissero allowed himself to breathe again, his eyes darting between the two ponies as he weighed the question on his lips. “So there are actual rebels, then?”

She nodded, inspecting the crushed up mixture in her bowl. “Yes... though there’s not many of us around these days.”

Dissero perked up at that. If this mare was telling the truth, then his chances of escape might not be as bleak as he thought. He had to learn more, find a way to enlist the aid of these rebels. “Us?”

Satisfied, the mare grabbed the bowl in a hoof and stepped over to the unconscious zebra, sitting down at his side. She began to unwrap his bandages as she spoke. “There used to be more of us, plenty more of us, back when I… joined. But we were too powerful, too dangerous, and the Baron brought his hoof down hard. His ponies killed anyone that helped us, smoked out our hides and wiped out our leaders. Most of the cells stopped fighting back, laying low until it all blew over, but then ponies stopped giving us food, afraid of what would happen if they were caught.” She dropped the used bandages in a nearby bucket, the scent of blood growing stronger as it stained the water inside red. “So some of the cells resorted to force, taking the food. Things have gotten easier since then, but those false rebels aren’t ready to give up their easy life. So they keep the name, and make the few of us who still fight look bad.”

Dissero’s nose wrinkled up at the smell, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the wound in the zebra’s side. There was just a solid chunk of flesh missing, the edges of the hole torn and ragged like the meat served at taverns in Gryphos. He saw Silver making a similar expression, leaning back in shock. “And how would one join these true rebels?”

The mare paused, looking up first at Dissero, and then Silver. “I could arrange for something, but you should know that it isn’t easy. If you think living under the Baron is tough, you should see what it’s like living against him.”

“We aren’t the type of ponies to quiet down and let some rich bastard sit on us just cause he can,” Silver said. “We like our freedom.”

The mare nodded, turning back to her patient. She began to carefully administer the freshly made poultice to the wound with her hoof, causing the zebra to twitch and grunt in his sleep. “I’ll speak to the necessary ponies.”

They lapsed into a steady silence, Dissero and Silver sitting next to eachother as the mare finished working on the injured zebra. Once she had applied a fresh set of fabric bandages to the wound, she turned to Silver.

“Lay down,” she said. He obliged, fidgeting as the mare ran her hooves over his wing.

Dissero stepped away to give her some room to work. “How’s it look?”

She hummed thoughtfully. “This is going to hurt.”

Silver poked his head up in alarm. “Wait, whaaaAAGH, fuck!” he screamed, his breathing suddenly coming hard and heavy. “Fuck!”

“Don’t worry, that was the worst of it,” the mare said, walking up to her supply table. “The joint was dislocated, I had to set it.”

“Fucking fuck!” Silver added in thanks. Dissero reached out to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder, to which he responded with a vicious glare.

She returned to his side, setting down a small section of metal pipe and some more bandages. “Now for the broken bone…” She trailed off, feeling the wing with her hooves, eliciting even more thankful exclamations from Silver.

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to mend this correctly,” she said.

Silver paused his cascade of curses just long enough to raise a brow. “You fuckin’ what?”

The mare’s frown deepened as she explained. “The bone has actually shattered into a few pieces here, whoever did this knew what they were doing. I don’t have any way to see them or move them individually… I’ll do my best to set it right, but there’s a chance that the wing won’t mend properly.”

“And what would that mean?” Dissero asked.

She looked up, sighing. “It would make flight impossible.”

Silver jerked up into a half-seated position. “What?” And then again. “What?”

“I’m sorry, there’s only so much I can do,” the mare said. “There’s no proper medical tools in the Inner City, besides what the Baron keeps in his towers.”

“Then why don’t we go get some out of the Baron’s fuckin’ towers?” Silver asked, wincing as he climbed to his hooves. “C’mon Dissy, we’ve got a tower to raid.

“You can’t be serious,” the mare said. “He has guards all over. Just getting into a tower is incredibly dangerous. Believe me, we’ve tried it before.”

Dissero raised a cautioning hoof. “Silver… I think we’re just going to have to hope the bone mends right.”

Silver’s tail flicked back and forth. He stood stock still, brow furrowed, looking at the door. After nearly a minute he relented, laying back down heavily. “Alright, fine. Just get it over with.”

The mare nodded as she began her work, indicating that Silver should lie down. He did so, and she started to adjust the position of his wing, ignoring his pained winces. Dissero watched with concerned silence as she stretched the wing out completely, lining the short metal rod up with the tip before tightly wrapping the whole thing in bandages.

“There,” she said. “Done.”

“Great,” Silver quipped, hastily climbing to his hooves. “C’mon, Dissy, let’s go find some food.”

Dissero shot an annoyed glare at Silver before turning back to the helpful mare. “Thank you very much, really, but we have to get going now.”

The mare frowned as the two stallions began to leave. “Are you hungry? I have some spare food.”

Silver ignored her, pretending he didn’t hear as he stepped outside. Dissero, meanwhile, froze mid-stride. His horn glowed as he grabbed the tip of Silver’s long tail and pulled the pegasus back inside. “That would be wonderful.”

“I’ll be right back,” the mare said. She headed towards the back of the room, passing through a hanging curtain on the far wall.

The instant the curtain settled, the two stallions rounded on eachother.

“Dissy, you know it pisses me off when you grab my tail like that,” Silver whispered furiously.

“And you know I hate it when you act like a foal,” Dissero shot back.

Silver reared back in mock shock. “Me, act like a foal?”

“Stop being such a prick, Silver! That mare has done literally nothing but help us. She fixed your wing, for Celestia’s sake!”

“She’s a rebel! They broke it too!”

“Okay, look.” Dissero closed his eyes, raising a hoof to his forehead. He could feel a headache coming on, maybe it hadn’t been so smart to use his magic so soon. “Just… deal with it. This mare knows ponies, we need her help to find the crew. Once we get that, then maybe I’ll let you be a prick, alright?”

“Let me?” Silver scoffed. “I’m an adult! I’ll have you know I can be a prick as much as I want without your permission, thank you!”

A rustling from the curtain announced the mare’s return, and the two stallions quickly looked away from eachother, their faces falling with ease into practiced expressions of neutrality. She had a sack balanced on her back which, when Dissero opened it, he found contained a full loaf of bread, a fresh tomato, and even a couple colorful flowers.

“That should help some,” she said. “I’ll be back later tonight, you two can feel free to rest here until I get back.” She grabbed her makeshift saddlebags up off the supply table, slinging them onto her back, and made for the door. She paused at the threshold, looking back. “I never caught your names.”

“I’m Dissero,” Dissero said, speaking hastily to make sure Silver couldn’t say anything rude. “And this is Silver Feather.”

She dipped her head. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is… Nix.” With a little smile, she stepped outside.

Silver flicked his tail, eyeing the zebra lying in the corner. “We aren’t staying here, right?”

“We’re staying here,” Dissero said, plopping his rear down on a bed meaningfully.

Silver leaned against the wall begrudgingly. “Bastard.”

Author's Notes:

So I've decided that if a chapter is unusually short (i.e. 3,000–4,000 words) then I'll post it in between the regular weekly updates. A bonus update, of sorts!

Chapter VII

“This isn’t so bad is it, Silver?”

“Bite me.”

Dissero lay patiently on the bed he’d chosen, watching as Silver paced back and forth. They’d already eaten most of their food, and though they were still hungry, they had agreed it would be smart to ration it just in case. Silver had even managed to get some sleep, but now that he was awake he was nervous and restless, sending furtive glances at the wounded zebra every few seconds.

“We shouldn’t just be sitting around,” Silver insisted. “We need to be doing something, to get out there and actually look.”

“We are doing something,” Dissero said. He looked down at the image he’d sketched in the dirt floor, a hazy representation of the paths they had walked so far. “We’re meeting with rebels, to ask for their help.”

“Yeah well, I don’t like rebels.”

“I’d noticed,” Dissero deadpanned. He ran a hoof through his mane, sighing. “Nix is different from those Cell Spade mares, you know.”

Silver flicked his tail as he looked towards the door. “Whatever, Dissy. I’ll stick with you, just know that I don’t like it.”

Dissero smiled. “Yeah, I’ve got your back, too.”

“Shut up, you bastard.”

The door creaked as it was pushed open, and Nix stepped inside. Another pony followed after her, a tall unicorn stallion wearing a long coat that—

Dissero’s nose twitched, and a chill ran down his spine. It was leather, lined with fur.

The stallion shut the door with a rear hoof, pulling his hood back to reveal a wide grin and sharp green eyes. His white coat was painted over with thick red stripes, and Dissero could tell that his mane had been similarly dyed red, with only the faintest specks of green visible beneath it. He scanned the room, eyeing Silver and Dissero in turn. “So these are the runts, huh?”

Dissero blinked, glancing at Silver. The pegasus made a slight wave of his hoof, indicating that he would let the comment pass.

“These are the two I told you about, yes.” Nix walked past them, going to inspect the wounded zebra.

“Hello,” Dissero began. “My name is—”

“Shhh.” The stallion raised a hoof to his lips, cutting him off. “No names yet, those will come later, maybe. If I like you.” He was silent for a moment, and then began to walk a measured circle around them, eyeing them up and down. “So you pups want to join Cell Bloodhound, huh?”

“That’s right,” Dissero said cautiously, turning to track the strange stallion’s movements.

“Hrm.” Completing his circle, he came to a stop directly in front of Silver. “And why might that be?”

Silver looked the stallion square in the eye, opened his mouth, and said, “Cause this city is really pissing me off.”

“Hah!” the stallion exclaimed loudly, exposing the four sharpened teeth in his mouth. “I like you, dog!” he said, patting Silver on the back. He turned to Dissero, stepping closer to him. “And what can you two do for me?”

Dissero resisted the urge to lean back as the scent of the coat grew stronger, keeping his face carefully neutral. “We know how to handle ourselves in a fight. We’re smart, hard-working. We know how to work in a team… uh...” He trailed off, catching the stern frown on the strange stallion’s face.

“You’re not telling me everything,” the stallion said. He sat, rubbing a hoof against his chin. “Why would you do that, I wonder? Perhaps you don’t feel like you’re among friends. If you don’t feel like you’re among friends, maybe I don’t feel that way either.”

The stallion’s horn glowed a dark red, and there was a metallic rasp as a machete suddenly flew out from under his coat, enveloped in a matching red light, and leveled itself on Dissero’s neck. “Maybe you are a spy? Does the good Baron think he can so easily worm a rat into my den? Be careful what you say next, mutt. I don’t take kindly to rats.”

Dissero opened his mouth, but as he looked into the stallion’s cold frown, he found himself unable to speak. His heart was pounding, and he could feel a trickle of blood running down his neck. “Uhm, I uh…”

“Forgive him,” Silver said, “he doesn’t like talking about it. We spent some time on a smuggler’s crew in Gryphos, and ran our own airship afterwards. Believe me when I say that we’ve been in some tough spots and come out alive, and that fighting against the law isn’t exactly new to us. We aren’t your average Equestrians.”

A small smile grew on the stallion’s face, and then into a grin as the machete floated away from Dissero’s neck. “Ah, smugglers! Airponies! And you say you spent time in Gryphos.” He rubbed a hoof against his coat proudly. “You know the scent of treated leather.”

Dissero gave a little nod. “We do.”

The stallion laughed loudly, the machete disappearing once more under the coat. “Nix! This pony thinks I’m some kind of cruel murderer, running around in this coat! Hah!”

Nix looked up from the wounded zebra, giving a quiet little “Hah” before returning to her work.

The stallion’s smile disappeared as suddenly as it had come, and he poked a hoof into Dissero’s chest. “This coat once belonged to a powerful pony in this city, one of the Baron’s own ministers. You will find that I do not kill without reason, unicorn. I wear it as a trophy, and to strike fear into my enemies.”

Another nod from Dissero. “Ah.”

The stallion broke out into a wide grin, stepping back. “Well, then! I think I could do with some seasoned smugglers at my side, and with time in Gryphos no less! Now we may introduce ourselves, yes? You may call me Lupus, and I am the fearsome leader of Cell Bloodhound, the last true rebels in Harmony City! Who might you two be?”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Dissero croaked, his heart just now starting to slow down. “My name is Dissero.”

“And I’m Silver Feather.”

Lupus placed a hoof on each of their shoulder’s, still grinning as he looked between the two. “Dissero and Silver Feather, welcome to Cell Bloodhound! But tell me: you said that you had your own airship. Surely you did not run it all on your own?”

Dissero shook his head, seeing his chance. “No, we had three others in our crew. They were captured with us.”

Lupus nodded emphatically, and Dissero picked up on a spark in his eyes, the look of a pony who saw a plan coming together. A look that he’d learned could be very dangerous. “Say no more, hounds, we will find your crew. I shall make it my first priority! Nix, take these ponies to the hide when you’re done here!” With one more exclamation of “Hah, Gryphos!”, Lupus turned and walked outside, leaving the clinic suddenly feeling very empty and quiet.

“Y’know what, I like him,” Silver said, a little grin on his face. “He seems nice.”

Dissero shot an appalled look his way. “What? Ponies like him are exactly why we left Gryphos!”

Silver met his gaze, nodding. “And ponies like him are exactly what we need right now, to get out of here. How long do you think The Shark would wait before he escaped, huh? Would probably burn the city down on his way out, too.”

Dissero could feel a sudden surge of emotion in his chest, a slowly rising anger that threatened to bubble up and burst out of him. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and carefully suppressed the building rage, pushing it back down within him. “If I waited all my life before seeing that stallion again, it would be a thousand years too soon.”

Silver blinked, his ears drooping momentarily as he realized his mistake. “My bad… forget I said anything.”

Dissero nodded slowly, opening his eyes again. His ears twitched at a quiet noise in the corner, and he turned to see Nix, waiting patiently next to her zebra patient. He frowned as he saw that the blanket had been pulled up over the zebra’s head, his body completely still.

“Would you mind helping me move him?” she asked quietly.

Dissero looked to Silver, beckoning with his head. Together the two stallions approached the zebra, each going to one side and picking him up without a word.

They followed Nix through the curtain behind her, coming out into a smaller path that curved behind the clinic. At one end of the path was a small metal shack, little more than a roof held up by a few wooden beams. The rain was just a barely noticeable drizzle, the sun starting to set behind the massive wall that separated them from the rest of the world.

“Just set him down over here,” she said, pointing to the dry spot covered by the shack. “The Caretaker will come for him later.” The stallions complied, setting the body down on the dry dirt beneath its shade.

For a moment the three ponies simply stood there, looking at the body. Silver Feather broke the silence. “Did you know him?”

Nix sighed, closing her eyes and nodding. “I did.”

And just like that, the silence was back.

Finally, Nix turned away and began heading back inside. “Come on, let’s go.”

Dissero’s eyes lingered briefly on the body before he followed the mare through the clinic and out into the main street, Silver close behind him.

They walked through the city without speaking, and Dissero found his mind drifting, pondering the gaping wound he’d seen in the zebra rebel. He’d seen similar injuries before—a pony didn’t look much better if he was unlucky enough to take a cannonball to the chest—but there weren’t battleships roaming the streets, it had to be some type of hoofborne weapon. He’d have to tread carefully; a single mistake and he could end up the same, or worse, one of his crew could. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all, perhaps he should wait and learn more about the city first, perhaps—

“Thief! Get back here!”

A filly jostled him as she ran past, a burlap sack held tight in her mouth. Dissero looked up as the little foal skidded around a corner, a yelling pegasus mare hot on her tail, and his eyes passed over a nondescript, curled up shape nestled between a pair of dilapidated shacks.

A sense of dread rose within him as he looked closer. An old unicorn mare was laying there, her coat thin and ragged, her ribs clearly visible.

No, waiting wasn’t the answer, he had to act and do it quickly. At the very least it was a choice between a slow death in servitude or a quick one fighting back, and in that respect at least, Dissero knew exactly what choice to make.

It was dark when Nix began to slow down, raising her hoof to signal a stop as they came to the very border of the industrial zone. She looked around, taking care to scan the rooftops as well as the streets, and then beckoned them along as she picked up into a brisk trot.

The industrial sector of Harmony City was like another world at night, when the only light came from the pale blue glow of the magic streetlamps. The thick flock of airships, the network of towers, and the heavy cloud cover all came together to essentially block the sky out altogether, making it impossible for moon or starlight to reach the streets. If it wasn’t for the constant hum of the airship engines, the ever-present rain, and the distant roll of thunder, there would be no indication at all there the world even continued to exist beyond the streetlamps, it was so dark beyond their glow. As the scattered, flickering torches of the shantytown faded into the distance, Dissero couldn’t help but feel that he had crossed over some dimensional rift, into a forbidden realm between the living and the dead.

“Stay quiet,” Nix cautioned. “The guards won’t be gentle if they catch us here at this time.”

“Are we not supposed to be here?” Dissero asked, glancing down an alley as they passed. He saw nothing but pure darkness.

Nix paused at an intersection, responding quickly and quietly. “There’s no reason for a worker to be here at this time. If the guards see us they won’t bother asking questions.”

“Yeah? Well I won’t bother asking them any questions either,” Silver said. “What’s a few guards to seasoned brawlers like us eh, Dissy?”

“Silver, shut up,” Dissero hissed.

Silver raised a hoof in mock offense. “Alright, alright!”

Nix nodded. “Come on, it’s not much further now.”

She started down an alley and, with one last pointed glare at Silver, Dissero turned to follow. It was pitch black in the alley, with only the lit streets on either side to serve as guides. Dissero nearly fell over, bumping against the wall in the darkness, and his heartbeat quickened as he imagined the walls closing in upon him, growing tighter. He took a deep breath and focused on the street ahead of him, on the hazy outline of Nix’s head and the sound of Silver’s hooves. He found himself calming down, and didn’t even notice when Nix came to an abrupt stop at the mouth of the alley. He jumped in surprise as he bumped into her outstretched hoof and, looking up, saw her quietly raise it to her lips.

He felt Silver bump into his tail, and was quick to look back and relay the signal for silence. Silver frowned curiously, but said nothing.

Nix slowly lowered herself to the ground, her ears visibly rotating. Dissero followed suit, straining to pick out what she had heard over the humming airship engines, and felt Silver doing the same behind him.

There, he heard it! Barely noticeable, a distant metallic ringing, a soft rhythm growing steadily louder, louder, and then louder still. He heard heavy hoofsteps clip-clopping on the cobbled street, and then the scraping rasp of metal plates sliding against eachother.

Nix tensed, her ears going back against her head as she slowly slid further back into the alley, pushing the two stallions back with her tail.

The sound was right on them, now. Dissero noticed himself holding his breath, but didn’t dare let it go lest he give them away.

A pair of ponies stepped into view, patrolling in the middle of the street with an unnatural stiffness and near-perfect synchronization. They were the same armored guards Dissero had seen before, watching from the rooftop as ponies waited for a job, seeming all the more sinister in the dead of the night.

Even in the pale blue magelight of the streetlamps, the guards radiated an aura of dominance. The shining plates of their heavy steel barding gave them an equally heavy presence, their bulky, towering silhouettes like massive boulders that would move for no pony. The shaded visors on their helmets covered their faces completely, leaving nothing to beg or barter with as they stared coldly down at their victims. And the quiet ringing of their chainmail, visible under the gaps in their plate at the knees and shoulders, hinted at a swift retribution against any who dared cross their master. They were not ponies to be trifled with, and not ponies who particularly enjoyed trifling.

Dissero pressed himself even further against the cold stone of the alley as he watched the guards march past with wide eyes. One, two, three, four, they moved with an unnatural precision and control that sent a chill down his spine. Fixed at their sides, attached to their barding, were the same strange grey musket-like devices he’d seen before, the barrels leaking a soft, pulsating purple glow.

Steadily, they passed out of view. After several seconds, Nix stepped closer to the end of the alley, peering down after them. Soon the sound of their plate sliding against itself faded, and not long after their hoofsteps followed suit. All that remained was that cold metallic ringing and, finally, that too fell off into the distance, once again leaving the city silent but for the gentle hum of the airship engines above.

Nix straightened up once more, beckoning with her tail. “Let’s go, just a little longer.”

Silver and Dissero followed her across the street and into another alley, each of them looking down the street as they crossed. “Who the hell were they?” Silver asked.

“Quiet,” Nix said, running a hoof along the alley wall as she walked.

Silver flicked his tail, but otherwise didn’t protest.

“Here we are.”

Dissero frowned in confusion as Nix seemed to reach a hoof in to the wall, until he saw her draw back the curtain pinned up against the bricks. He heard a rickety wooden creak, and suddenly the alley was lit by a dim, flickering golden glow. Nix stood beside the source of the light, waiting patiently as she held open the trapdoor, set in a small indentation in the wall.

Exchanging a brief glance with Silver, Dissero peered down into the trapdoor to find a steep ladder awaiting him. He turned, placing his hind hooves on the ladder as he began the climb down.

Stepping off the ladder, he found himself in a squat underground room with rough dirt walls. Wooden beams were arrayed along the walls and the gently arching dirt ceiling, ensuring the dugout didn’t collapse in on itself. Lanterns hanging from the ceiling gave off a warm golden glow, illuminating the large wooden table serving as the centerpiece of the room. Decorating the table was a map of the Inner City, with annotations in red ink outlining key locations and notes, and small sketches of ponies spread across it at certain points of interest. Wooden crates were stacked in the corner, some open and some marred by cracks and holes, and spaced along the walls were narrow tunnels just large enough for a pony to crawl through, each one curving out of sight.

Silver Feather came up to his side, surveying the room curiously. “Quite the place they got here,” he said.

Dissero opened his mouth to speak, but froze as he heard a shuffling behind him, and felt something cold and hard pushed up against his ribs.

“You two’d best pray that Nix steps off that ladder within the next ten seconds.”

There was a moment of tense silence, followed by a wooden creak and the clopping of Nix’s hooves against the ladder. “Calm down, Salvo. They’re with me.”

“Good for them.”

Dissero allowed himself to breathe once more as the weight was pulled away, and turned around to see a light brown earth mare sitting behind the ladder, her dull green eyes watching sternly from beneath her short grey mane. He saw she had one of the strange musket-like objects that the guards carried cradled in her hooves, leaned lazily against her shoulder.

“It’s uh, nice to meet you,” Dissero said. He extended a hoof. “I’m Dissero, and this is my friend Silver Feather.”

Salvo didn’t bother to take the offered hoof, only looking over the two stallions with a sort of bored curiosity. After nearly a minute Dissero finally lowered his hoof, glancing at Nix uncertainly.

A young, and much more energetic, voice came from one of the tunnels. “Salvo, is Nix here? Did she bring her friends?”

Dissero looked over to see a young pegasus stallion, his inky black coat and mane making a stark contrast with his vibrant blue eyes.

“Hey there!” the pegasus called, waving as he climbed out of the tunnel. He approached them eagerly, grabbing Dissero’s hoof and reaching for Silver’s good wing with his own at the same time. “I’m Moon Dream! I heard you guys were joining the Bloodhounds!”

Silver grinned, shaking wings with the excited young pegasus. “You heard right. I’m Silver Feather, and this here is Dissy.”

Moon Dream cocked his head, looking to Dissero. “Dissy?”

Dissero rolled his eyes, a little smile on his face as Dream’s outgoing excitement washed away the awkward silence hanging in the air. “Ignore him. It’s Dissero.”

“Alright, cool!” Dream leaned in and lowered his voice into an exaggeratedly loud whisper. “Don’t mind Salvo, she warms up when you get to know her.”

Salvo meanwhile remained absolutely silent and immobile, though somehow she still managed to make Dissero feel suddenly very judged and inadequate.

Nix stepped up to the table, glancing over the map upon it. “Is Lupus still out?” she asked.

Salvo gave a little nod. “Raiding a moonstone dump.”

Nix frowned, looking up. “I haven’t heard any explosions tonight.”

“They left at dusk,” Salvo said, shifting her stance into a more comfortable position.

With a grimace, Nix grabbed the map in her mouth and carefully rolled it up, leaving the table bare as she set it on a nearby crate. “I guess I’d better get ready, then.” She opened another crate, reaching a hoof inside and pulling out bandages and clay jars smelling sharply of herbs.

“Do you think something went wrong?” Moon Dream asked, looking between the two mares. His earlier enthusiasm had faded, replaced by an anxious worry.

“What’s happening again?” Silver asked.

“Well,” Salvo began, “Lupus took a raiding party out to hit a moonstone dump at dusk. If everything went according to plan, then he would’ve blown it up and returned here an hour or two ago.” She paused, looking up at the closed trapdoor above her. “But there’s been no explosion, and it’s not an hour or two ago. That means something went wrong, and if something went wrong, then there will be wounded.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Best be prepared.”

“Maybe he was just delayed?” Dissero suggested, watching as Nix carefully laid out her supplies at the head of the table. Now that the map was pulled off of it, he could see old bloodstains soaked into the wood.

Salvo shook her head slowly. “Lupus doesn’t get ‘delayed.’ Either things happen on time, according to plan, or everything goes to Tartarus.”

Almost as if to prove her statement, the trapdoor chose that exact moment to slam open, the sound traveling through the cramped little dugout like a gunshot. Hurried voices came down from above, impossible to distinguish from each other, the words all running together to create simple message of urgency. Dissero heard hooves clambering down the ladder, and an earth pony fell heavily into the room, his thick layers of clothing stained with blood and his face blackened with ash and gunpowder.

Nix rushed to his side, reaching a hoof out for his bleeding shoulder, but he pushed her away. “I’m fine, see to Top first.”

Dissero watched as he stumbled over to a corner, leaning on a crate as he pulled bandages out and began to wrap them around his shoulder. Several more ponies spilled into the hide, all with stained black faces and most with blood soaked into their clothes. The wounded limped off to the side, allowing their comrades to begin seeing to their injuries even as they grunted in pain, many of them allowing themselves brief smiles of relief as they settled down in their safehouse.

“Out of the way! I need some space here!”

Dissero felt himself pushed bodily aside as Nix barreled past. Lupus was right behind her, gritting his teeth as he levitated an unconscious pegasus mare onto the table. Dissero felt his legs go weak as he saw what had happened to the mare: her right foreleg seemed to have been blown off, the tattered cloth tied around the wound thankfully hiding the more gruesome details. Ponies rushed back and forth across the room, huddling around the table, and Dissero soon found himself forced towards the edge of the room.

He felt a hoof tap on his shoulder, and turned to see Moon Dream beckoning to him and Silver. “C’mon, let’s get out of everyone’s way.”

He started for one of the tunnels dug into the wall, flapping his wings momentarily as he climbed inside. Exchanging a quick glance with Silver, Dissero followed suit, careful to keep to the peripherals of the tight little room before squeezing into the roughly hewn tunnel.

Coming out the other side he found himself in a narrow hall, with several little cubby holes dug into the walls. Each one was a little different, with different shapes or different depths, some impeccably smooth and others rough enough to pass for a natural deformation. Personal effects were scattered about them, and a few had little sacks or clay pots tucked away inside. A few lanterns hung from the wooden beam running along the ceiling, their warm orange light giving the hall a very cozy feeling.

“This is where we sleep,” Moon Dream said, passing a hoof over the sight proudly. “You two can go ahead and pick a couple for yourselves now.” A pained scream leaked out from the tunnel, muffled by the dirt.

“Which ones are open?” Dissero asked, a chill passing down his spine as another scream reached his ears.

Dream’s smile faltered. “Uh, any one that doesn’t have things it it.”

Scanning the room, Dissero was surprised to see that the majority of the makeshift bunks were completely barren, decorated only by cobwebs and faded hoofprints. There were probably at least twenty dug out, maybe even thirty, but no more than ten showed any signs of life.

“Guess you guys are on some tough times, eh?” Silver asked, walking down the hall as he inspected the open bunks.

Dream looked down at his hooves, scratching at the ground. “Salvo says that all of these bunks used to be full. New ponies would have to dig out their own when they joined.”

“Has she been here a long time?” Dissero asked, looking back to the tunnel as the screaming came to a sudden stop.

“Yeah!” Dream nodded emphatically, his enthusiasm coming back. “Salvo’s the oldest member of Cell Bloodhound, besides Lupus of course. She’s his second-in-command!”

Dissero frowned, thinking back to the quietly judging mare which had threatened him when he first arrived. She didn’t look very old at all, she couldn’t possibly have been with these rebels for long. What kind of leader was this Lupus, that the oldest member of his cell looked just a couple years older than Dissero himself?

Silver seemed to be thinking along similar lines. “Do your ‘raids’ usually turn out like that?” he asked, pointing a wing towards the tunnel.

Moon Dream’s ears drooped as he looked away. “Well, no uh, not usually.” He paused, looking back up. “Salvo says that Lupus can be rash sometimes, but they’ve always gotten me back safe.”

Dissero’s ears flicked at the sound of somepony climbing out of the tunnel behind him. He turned to see Salvo watching him, her eyes reflecting a sort of resigned exhaustion. “Lupus will be taking you two out to find your crew tomorrow morning. I advise you get some sleep,” she droned. “You should go to bed as well, Dream.”

“Already?” Silver asked. “Didn’t he just have a drastically failed mission?”

Salvo moved her shoulders in an almost imperceptible shrug. “He doesn’t like waiting.” With that she climbed into the bunk closest to the door, curling up in the incredibly smooth little cubby, and closed her eyes.

“I would listen to her if I were you guys,” Moon Dream said, squeezing into a much rougher bunk further back. “She gives good advice.”

Dissero and Silver Feather spent a few more minutes looking through the vacant bunks before finally settling on a pair near the back, figuring they should make sure there were other empty ones around for when they found the crew. As he bid goodnight to Silver and curled up in his bunk, Dissero couldn’t help but ponder who had slept in it before, and who had been the pony to originally dig it out. He could practically feel the body of its previous owner in the pony-shaped imprint at the center of the bunk. What had happened to him? To all the other rebels that once populated Cell Bloodhound?

Lost in thought, Dissero almost didn’t notice as the rest of the rebels filed into the rugged barracks, all of them eerily silent. Many had bandages wrapped around fresh wounds, walking with limps and winces of pain. They all quietly climbed into their bunks, with the last one pausing only to put the lanterns out.

Laying there in the pitch black, in a cramped dugout carved out beneath a city built on the back of slaves, a metropolis on the very edge of the Known World, Dissero found himself wondering just what, exactly, he was getting himself into.

Author's Notes:

You take the blue pill, the story ends. You head back to the front page and read whatever you want to read. You take the red pill, you stay in wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.

Chapter VIII

”Oh, well what’ve we got here.”

He looks up from his book, to where his father sorts through the mail. “What is it, Dad?”

His father gives him a mischievous little smile. “Looks like a letter for you, Diss.” The letter floats closer, nestled in his father’s magic.

Grabbing the letter in his hooves, he inspects the label, his eyes widening as he reads. “It’s from the Academy!”

“Well open it up, son.”

Quivering with excitement, he rips the envelope open and levitates the letter out, straining to keep his young magic stable. His eyes scan the page, his heart jumping as he reaches the end.

He looks up to his father, a wide smile plastered across his face. “I got in!”

“Hey Dissero, wake up. Dissero! C’mon, get up… Please?”

“That isn’t how you wake a pony up, Dream. Watch.”

Whack!

“Ow, hey!” Dissero’s head shot up as he suddenly felt a sharp sting in his side. It slammed into the top of his bunk, causing a hiss of pain as the world went out of focus. He shook his head, glaring blearily at the two ponies standing before him.

“That is how you do it,” Salvo said. She turned around, stepping out of sight.

“Sorry, Dissero,” Moon Dream said, smiling sheepishly. “Lupus wants you, we’re heading out now.”

“Ugh, what time is it?” Dissero asked, running a hoof through his mane.

“A little before dawn,” Dream said. “The work day will be starting soon.”

There was a sudden smack! sound from nearby, followed shortly after by a startled exclamation of “Hey, fuck!” from Silver Feather.

Moon Dream stepped backwards as Dissero rolled out of his bunk. “C’mon, let’s go,” the inky black pegasus said, starting towards the tunnel.

Silver practically fell out of his bunk, grumbling as he stretched his legs. “Shouldn’t we eat something first?”

“We’ll probably get some food out in the city,” Dream said, looking back briefly before crawling into the tunnel.

“What?” Silver hissed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He stood up straighter, the fog clearing from his eyes as it was replaced with a fiery determination. “You mean to tell me that we’re expected to—agh, stop that!” he sputtered, scrambling backwards as Dissero slapped him in the face with his tail.

“Shut up, Silver,” Dissero said, walking past him. “Let’s go.”

As Dissero blearily made his way through the hide, Silver Feather grumbling behind him, he passed the sleeping forms of the other rebels. Some of them hadn’t even bothered to climb into their bunks, simply passing out in the main room once their wounds had been seen to, and Nix seemed to have collapsed right next to the central table. The main room was a mess, with several crates laying open and medical supplies strewn about, and a few fresh bloodstains soaked into the dirt. He didn’t see any sign of the mare that had lost her leg.

When he and Silver climbed up the ladder and emerged into the alley, they found Salvo and Moon Dream already waiting for them, and Lupus pacing impatiently further down.

He looked up as the stallions came into view, his pursed lips drawing back in an energetic grin to reveal his sharpened teeth. “Finally! What took you so long? Nevermind, I don’t care. Come on, dogs, on me!”

Lupus led the group out into the street, Dissero’s nose twitching uncomfortably as a gust of wind blew the scent of his fur coat right into his face. The rain was falling gently now, the drops light and small, and the sky was as clear of clouds as Dissero had seen it since arriving in Harmony. Which was to say, it was only mostly overcast.

Thunder and airship engines rumbled in the distance as the five rebels trotted down the street, the first vestiges of sunlight just starting to shine over the great wall of clouds in the distance. “Alright then,” Lupus began, “tell me about this crew of yours we’re looking for.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Silver quipped.

Dissero fixed him with a brief exasperated glance before speaking. “There’s three other ponies on my crew: a blue pegasus mare, Stormslider, who manages the engines; a white unicorn mare named Ember that maintains the ship; and a white earth stallion named Cleaver that handles the food.”

“And drinks vodka,” Silver added.

“Silver!”

“What? That’s an extremely important part of his personality that will probably help us find him.”

“Whatever.”

Lupus nodded to himself, scanning the street as they walked. “Alright, so we’ll start with the mares first! Cell Ghoul may have some info for us, let’s move, Hounds! Quick step!”

Dissero winced at the volume of the order, looking around nervously. He thought he had heard the sound of ringing chainmail somewhere in the distance. “Shouldn’t we be more quiet?”

“Don’t worry,” Salvo droned. “The guards won’t bother us at this time.”

As if to prove her point, they passed a pair of armor-clad guards standing on a street corner. Dissero felt his heart speed up as they grew closer, but the guards remained totally still.

“Won’t they recognize you?” Dissero asked.

“Walking around with sharp teeth, a fur coat, and a painted mane they damn well should,” Silver muttered, eyeing the guards cautiously.

“Hah! These guards couldn’t recognize the Griffon King himself if he paraded down the streets with a legion of trumpeters!” Lupus exclaimed. “You’ve seen ‘em, seen how they move. They aren’t all there in the head, see? Easy to trick, if you know their rules.”

“That’s no reason to get cocky,” Salvo said. She turned to face the rest of the group. “Never underestimate a guard. They’ll kill you before you can regret it.”

“Yeah, yeah. You dogs just do what I tell you and you’ll be fine,” Lupus said, leading them out of the industrial center of the city and into the surrounding shantytown.

Salvo looked away, grimacing, but otherwise said nothing.

They walked through the city at a brisk pace, making good time through the mostly empty streets. Only a few ponies were up at this time, most of them setting up stalls or simply sitting and talking. Occasionally Lupus stopped to ask for a donation of food and, though most said no, there were a few who seemed to recognize the leader of the Bloodhounds and freely offered up some spare food. So it was that when they arrived at their destination, an unusually tall metal construct that was one of the rare two story buildings in the shanty, they had sated their hunger on a loaf of bread and a couple carrots.

“So what’s this place?” Silver asked, finishing off the last of his carrot.

“This is where Cell Ghoul stays,” Salvo explained. “They’re allies of ours.”

Dissero frowned. “Aren’t all the cells allies of yours?”

Lupus let out a single loud, barking laugh. “Hah! Most of the other cells are too scared to even head towards the towers without pissing themselves, and the rest are just damn helpless bitches. But the Ghouls, they’re useful, they know how to know things. Even if they’re too scared to do anything with it, they’re smart enough to help the Hounds.”

“They’re kind of weird, though,” Moon Dream added.

With a low chuckle, Lupus walked up and delivered a few solid knocks onto the door. After several moments, a muffled voice sounded from within.

“Who comes to disturb the sanctity of the Ghouls?”

“It’s me,” Lupus said.

“One does not simply enter the sanctity of the Ghouls.”

Turning around, Lupus raised a hind leg and hit the door with a swift buck. A muffled “ow” sounded from the other side, and the door slowly swung open.

Lupus shook his head as he stepped over the pony that lay on the floor inside, nursing his injured muzzle. “Ah, get up, I barely touched you.”

The rest of the Hounds followed him inside, each one stepping over the quietly cringing pony. It was dark inside, with only a few small candles scattered sparsely about providing light. Unlike most of the buildings in the shanty, great care had been taken to cover every crack and ensure that no sunlight could make its way inside, leaving most of the interior draped in shadow.

“Beating up my Ghouls again, Lupus?”

A pony materialized from the darkness, the barely visible form of a stallion just stepping only halfway into the light. All of his features were hidden beneath the long black cloak he wore, with only the barest reflection of flickering candlelight in his eyes giving any sign of life.

“He wasn’t letting me in,” Lupus said dismissively. “Teach your recruits better.”

The pony’s hood shifted, and Dissero thought he could see a set of smiling teeth beneath its cowl. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Dissero turned as he heard a shuffling sound behind him, and his eyes widened as he saw that the door pony had disappeared.

“I need some information,” Lupus said. “Looking for some ponies.”

“Hrm, what a surprise,” the hooded pony mused sarcastically. “And what do the Hounds offer in return?”

Lupus smirked, standing up a little straighter. “They’re airponies. A crew.”

“Oh?” The cowl shifted as the hooded pony tilted his head.

“Damn right. And I’ve got the captain and pilot already, right here.” Lupus flicked his tail towards where Dissero and Silver stood together.

The hooded pony hummed thoughtfully, stepping more fully into the candlelight as he approached the two stallions. “And who are we missing in this crew of yours?”

“Our engineer, mechanic, and cook,” Dissero said. Seeing the way Lupus reacted at the word ‘cook,’ he added, “I’ll need them all.”

“Is that so?” the hooded pony asked, turning to focus on Silver. “Are you a good pilot, pegasus?”

“Pfft,” Silver scoffed, flicking his tail. “Best there is.”

Another barely visible smile from beneath the hood. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

Lupus began tapping a hoof impatiently. “Let me worry about that, Ghost. Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Oh, but of course, for what would the Ghouls be without the Hounds, and the Hounds without the Ghouls?” The hooded pony, Ghost, put a hoof on Lupus’s shoulder as he spoke. “Brawn needs brains, after all, and visa versa. Now tell us, who are we looking for?”

A few other ponies stepped into the candlelight, their hooves making not even the slightest of sounds as they moved. Each one wore a similar cloak to Ghost, though short enough that their hooves and tails were visible.

Lupus looked at Dissero expectantly, and he spent the next several minutes describing the rest of his crew in detail, answering every question the Ghouls asked him. Once he was done, there was a few moments of silence before one of the Ghouls spoke up.

“I’ve heard of the Stalliongradian,” she said. “He’s been working for the Blossom Sisters, on the north side of the Inner City.”

Dissero felt a surge of relief at the words, exchanging a small smile with Silver. Cleaver was okay, and no doubt with the help of these ‘Ghouls’ he would soon find Stormslider and Ember as well. Lupus, however, didn’t seem to be nearly as pleased.

“What about the other two?” he asked, looking between the assembled Ghouls. “Anything on them?” His question was met with murmurs of denial.

“Do not fear, Lupus,” Ghost said soothingly. “If they are within these walls we will find them, I assure you. Why don’t you go get the cook, and as soon as we find the others a messenger will be sent to inform you.”

“Hmph, fine.” Lupus twisted in place, pushing Moon Dream aside as he headed for the door. “Let’s go, Hounds.”

“So they’re… weird,” Silver said once they were out in the street.

“Ghost likes to be dramatic,” Salvo explained.

“Likes to be an arrogant bastard,” Lupus snarled, leading them through the shanty at a relentless pace. “Always thinking he knows everything, thinks he’s smarter than me, huh? Hah!”

“Who are the Blossom Sisters?” Dissero asked.

“A couple earth pony mares that run a ‘tavern’ to the north,” Salvo said, her tone clearly implying that she thought ‘tavern’ was a little generous. “They’ve managed to keep a garden growing, and they’re friendly with the griffons so nobody ever messes with them. If you gain their favor, either by gifts or aid, they give you food and drink in return.”

“They make their own booze,” Moon Dream added. “From potatoes.”

“Ah, that explains it then, yeah?” Silver smiled, shaking his head. “Good ol’ Cleaver. Toss him into a slave city and within a few days he’s already found the booze.”

“So we just head over there and get him, then?” Dissero flinched as a heavy drop of water landed square on his right eye. The rain was starting to pick up.

“Bunch of high and mighty bitches,” Lupus grumbled, splashing water everywhere as he stomped through a puddle.

“We don’t have good relations with them,” Salvo said. “But as long as we we stay outside and just send you two in things should be fine. They don’t know you’re Hounds yet.”

Further down the street, a wooden crate suddenly fell from the sky, no doubt having slipped off one of the airships. It shattered open as it landed, spraying nearby ponies with water and shards of wood. Ponies leapt upon the contents the instant they realized what had happened, scrambling to pick up the little metal figurines that had been contained inside. There was a shout as two stallions began to fight over something, and suddenly a brawl had broken out in the middle of the street.

Lupus didn’t slow down in the slightest, actually speeding up as he barreled straight into the midst of the chaos. “Get out of my way, you raging mutts!” he barked, horn glowing as he whacked ponies on the head with the flat of his drawn machete’s blade.

At the sound of his booming voice, most of those ponies who hadn’t already been dazed by his vicious attack cowered in fear, scrambling to pick up one of the trinkets before stepping aside. A few of them stopped their feuds to turn on him instead, and were quickly put down by precise strikes of the machete’s hilt.

“Bunch of untrained runts!” Lupus yelled, sheathing his blade as he continued down the street.

“Is he okay?” Silver asked, “He seems a bit upset.”

Salvo sighed, beckoning with her tail as she followed. “Don’t mind him, he’s probably just thinking of the Blossom Sisters.”

Dissero stepped gingerly over the ponies nursing their bruises on the ground as he spoke. “Did something happen with them?”

“Not any one thing in particular, but they’re part of a group of ponies who don’t want us fighting the Baron,” Salvo explained. “Here they are wealthy and powerful, and they want things to stay that way.”

Silver flicked his tail irritably. “I’m starting to dislike them myself.”

“They do make good booze though,” Moon Dream said.

Salvo looked back, fixing the young pegasus with a stern gaze. “You don’t even drink.”

“I would if they didn’t hate us.” He flapped his wings briefly as they passed over a large puddle.

Salvo frowned. “Don’t drink.”

“Or what?” Dream asked, flaring his wings.

“If I ever smell even the slightest scent of alcohol on your breath, I’ll have Lupus put you on bucket duty for the next month.”

Dream’s eyes widened in horror as he shrunk back. “Alright, fine, by Celestia!”

Dissero exchanged an amused glance with Silver. Nothing quite like the threat of hauling shit to keep a young stallion in line.

With Lupus angrily leading the way, they made good time across the city. As the sun reached its zenith the streets began to empty, with the majority of the city’s occupants heading to the interior to work for their food. It was just past noon as they arrived at their destination, and the Hounds sought refuge from the increasingly heavy rain beneath an overhang across the street.

“Here we are,” Lupus spat. “The Open Blossom.”

Dissero squinted as he peered through the rain at the tavern. The Open Blossom was the sturdiest construct he’d seen in the shanty yet, with its walls made from metal plating anchored to solid wooden beams. A propeller styled after a blooming flower sat atop the second story, spinning lazily in the wind, no doubt providing some type of power generation to its occupants. The building even had a few chimneys built into the sides from a series of casings, smoke wafting up from them before drifting away. A wooden sign hung above the door, the image of a pair of blooming flowers carved into each side.

“Well go on,” Lupus said, scratching at the muddy ground. “Go get your damn cook.”

“We’ll wait out here,” Salvo said, leaning against the shack behind them. “Don’t take too long.”

Dissero nodded. “Alright, then. C’mon, Silver.”

With a “Good luck!” from Moon Dream, the two stallions crossed the street and opened the door, stepping inside.

If The Open Blossom looked sturdy from the outside, then it looked equally homely from the inside. Fires burning in the two chimneys gave the common room a warm red glow, and in one corner there was even a wooden stage. A zebra leaned against it, humming a gentle tune as he strummed at an improvised guitar. The tavern was mostly empty at this time, no doubt with most of the patrons working, and of the five square crate-and-stool tables only one was occupied, the group of scarred griffons seated there talking loudly as they ate and drank from clay wares.

“Kaptain?”

Dissero couldn’t help but smile as he turned to see Cleaver, the big white stallion seated quietly next to the door with a big clay mug at his side. “Cleaver! Are you okay?”

“I am fine,” Cleaver rumbled. He picked up the mug and took a long swig before speaking again. “Nice Blossom mares make deal with me: I provide muscle, they provide vodka.”

“Fuck, Cleav,” Silver said, grinning as he shook his head. “You sure know how to smell out the booze.”

Cleaver gave a slow little nod, inspecting the mug solemnly. “It is not good Stalliongrad brew, but is better than nothing.”

“You’ve gotta come with us, buddy,” Silver said. “We found some rebels, right, joined up with them. We’re getting the crew together and then we’re breaking outta here.”

“That is good news,” Cleaver said, finishing off the rest of his drink. “Let me speak with Blossom mares, then I will go with you.”

Dissero nodded. “Sure thing.”

“Oh my, Cleaver, and who are your friends?”

A pair of smiling earth mares approached the stallions, one a soft orange and other a warm red, both with pale green manes and welcoming green eyes. Their coats weren’t faded like those of the other ponies trapped within the Inner City, and their manes and tails were smooth, soft and carefully styled.

Cleaver looked into his mug to ensure it was empty, setting it aside as he spoke. “This is Kaptain, and Silver Feather.”

Dissero dipped his head in greeting. Silver’s smile grew a little wider, and he stood up a little straighter. “Ladies.”

“Oooh, so this is your airship captain?” The two mares drew closer, each one grabbing one of his shoulders. “I’m Cherry Blossom,” the red one said.

“And I’m Orange Blossom,” the orange one added. “Is it okay if we call you Captain?”

“Uh, well, um.” Dissero was finding it suddenly difficult to think as the heady scents of cherry blossoms and orange blossoms filled his nostrils.

Silver Feather came to his aid, clearing his throat and sliding into their view. “C’mon fillies, you want to talk to him? All he does is look at maps and spreadsheets all day. As for me, I’m the daring pilot that guides our ship across the skies.”

In an instant the two mares had switched targets, leaving Dissero to latch on to the grinning pegasus. “Come on, why don’t you tell us about your adventures over some drinks?”

“Oh, of course. Let me tell you about this time, down in Gryphos, we were smuggling some stock through a heavily patrolled valley…” His voice faded into the distance as the mares led him over to the bar.

Dissero spent a few moments gathering his thoughts, allowing the mare’s perfumes to clear away. He sighed, watching as Silver sat down at the bar and accepted a mug. Shaking his head, he stepped up to the bar and tapped Silver on the shoulder. “Silver, c’mon. We don’t have time to waste.”

“Now hang on a moment, Dissy,” Silver said, raising a hoof and waving him away. “These mares would like to hear about the wider world, alright?”

Cherry Blossom giggled. “Dissy? That sounds like a fillies name.”

Dissero frowned, raising a hoof in objection. “Actually, no it’s…” He trailed off as he saw that the mares had already moved on, listening with wide eyes as Silver described an exciting aerial chase that Dissero didn’t remember being nearly as exciting. “Silver!”

“What?” Silver turned to Dissero with a look that clearly said ‘could you not fuck this up?’

“We can come back later, right now we have places to be,” Dissero said.

“Hey!” Orange Blossom gasped as if she had thought of something terribly exciting. “We recently had somepony come in with some flight goggles, wanna see em?”

Silver blinked, his exasperation suddenly changing into a dangerous curiosity. Slowly, he turned back to the orange mare. “Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back!” Cherry Blossom practically leapt to her hooves, winking as she disappeared into another room behind the bar. When she came back she had a pair of old but well-maintained goggles hanging around her neck. “What do you think?”

The two stallions said nothing for several seconds, each one looking at the goggles, then to eachother, then back to the goggles.

Back by the door, Cleaver had obtained another mug of vodka and, seeing this development, chose that moment to chug it all at once.

“Those are my goggles,” Silver said. His voice was serious and kept carefully level, his smile slowly fading. “Those are my lucky goggles.”

“What?” Cherry let out a tinkling little laugh, brushing Silver’s shoulder with a hoof. “One of our patrons gave them to us, aren’t they cute?”

Slowly, Silver reached out with his good wing and held the goggles up, rotating them to where he knew the small image of his cutie mark was emblazoned. Just as he expected, there on the side of the left frame was a picture of a stylized pair of silver wings laid over a trio of spinning propellers.

“Those are my goggles,” he repeated.

“They were your goggles,” Orange Blossom corrected, the sweetness gone from her voice. “Now they’re ours, and if you want them back you’d better have something to trade.”

Dissero let out a little awkward chuckle. “Well, we don’t have anything to trade, and seeing as these are clearly his—”

Cherry Blossom cut him off with a sweep of her hoof. “Then you’re not getting the goggles.”

For another long moment, nopony said anything.

Silver narrowed his eyes. “I’m not afraid to hit a mare, you know.”

The guitar cut off with a dissonant twang, and the sound of wood scraping on wood filled the room. Dissero turned to see the griffons had all stood up, wings flared and talons bared, each one carefully showing off the array of scars and burns across their muscular bodies.

Cleaver frowned. He was beginning to think he may have to find a new source of vodka.

“Silver, c’mon,” Dissero hissed. “We can find something to trade and come back later.”

“Dissy, those are my goggles.”

The two stallions stared eachother down, each one pleading with the other. With a heavy sigh, Silver stood up and stepped back. “Alright fine, we’ll just—”

It was at that exact moment that the door suddenly slammed open, and Lupus leapt inside with his machete levitating besides him, bellowing out a challenge at the top of his lungs.

“Alright you fucks, I’m tired of waiting! Come at me!”

And then Silver punched Cherry Blossom in the face, and the tavern plunged into chaos.

In an instant Orange Blossom had leapt over the bar, the heels on her shoes having changed into deadly knives. Dissero’s eyes widened in alarm as he ducked, narrowly avoiding the blades as the mare soared past him. As she recovered he leaned onto his forelegs and kicked out with his hind legs, only for her to step aside and tackle him.

“Oof!” He felt the breath leave his lungs as he hit the ground, twisting to avoid the stiletto heel that plunged towards his eyes. His horn glowed as he grabbed the offending shoe, yanking it off and slamming it into the mare’s head.

She yelped in surprise, falling off of him, and he rolled to his hooves. Taking a quick glance around, he saw Silver standing over the unconscious Cherry Blossom, his goggles now firmly lodged in his mane above his eyes.

“Fucking prick!” he yelled, his good wing flared out.

“Silver, let’s go!” Dissero stumbled as Orange Blossom shoved past him, running to the far side of the room and leaping up the stairs two at a time. Turning to the door, he was treated to the sight of a raging brawl in the center of the tavern between the Hounds and the griffons. Cleaver was now standing next to the zebra, who was playing an energetic ditty on his guitar, with several large clay pots cradled in his hooves.

“Give it to ‘em, Hounds!” Lupus howled, his machete swirling around him as he danced wildly around the griffons. He drew back to dodge a powerful swipe from one of the griffons, responding with a vicious headbutt that sent the griffon to the ground.

Salvo fought with far more control and precision, deftly dodging every strike before countering with precise blows to the joints. One of the griffons squawked in pain as she grabbed his wing and twisted it, throwing him to the ground before stomping on his beak.

Moon Dream stayed on the peripheral of the fight, flapping his wings in a panicky flurry to avoid the attacks of one of the griffons. He led the griffon in circles, yelling, until Salvo reached out and kicked it in the side of the head.

In under a minute it was all over, the five griffons lying unconscious and bleeding on the ground. Lupus swung his machete in circles over his head, splattering drops of blood on the roof as he yelled, “Come on down, Orange, I just want to talk!”

Salvo scowled, stepping in front of him. “Lupus, we should go.”

Lupus paused in his wild taunting, fixing Salvo with a wild glare. “You question me, Hound?”

“We got what we came for, and you even got to raid the tavern,” Salvo insisted, speaking quickly. “Let’s go before the rest of the griffons get here.”

For a few moments Lupus did nothing but growl, the rest of the Hounds watching from afar. Even the zebra had stopped playing, looking between the arguing ponies with a cautious gaze.

Cleaver straightened up from where he had been crouching behind the bar, a wooden crate balanced on his back and a little smile on his lips.

Finally, Lupus sheathed his blade, the glow of his magic fading away. “Alright, fine!” he snarled. “Back to the hide, Hounds, good job!”

Dissero let out a little sigh of relief as Lupus twisted in place and marched out the door, Salvo and Moon Dream close behind him. He turned to his crewmembers and beckoned with a nod of his head, still breathing hard. “You guys ready?”

Silver practically pranced towards the door, a smug smirk on his face. “Got my goggles, I’m good!”

Cleaver nodded, walking ponderously over to the door with his crate balanced on his back. “I shall be supplied for some time.”

“Well!” Dissero looked around one last time, at the griffons on the floor, the comatose form of Cherry Blossom, and the zebra quietly playing on the stage. He nodded, walking outside.

“Everything went better than expected.”

Author's Notes:

It's a widely known rule that, as a musician, you must always play something which matches the goings on around you. Generally speaking you may want to play a tune which fades well into the background, a pleasing accompaniment to the chatter of your patrons.

But then the fighting breaks out, and it is your civic duty to play an upbeat brawling piece for everyone to fight to.

I like to think that that zebra is a master musician.

Chapter IX

“Got my goggles, fuck yeah, yeah, fucking goggles, yeah!”

Silver Feather pranced along at the back of the group, his goggles nestled firmly above his eyes, his good wing flared and tail bouncing as he sang.

Moon Dream looked to Dissero, glancing back at Silver awkwardly. “He’s, uh… excited.”

“Tell me about it,” Dissero muttered.

Concrete and brick passed by on their sides as they made their way through the city, the rain now a light drizzle.. After leaving the Open Blossom they’d seen over a dozen griffons approaching, flying low over the rusty metal rooftops as they rushed for the tavern. It was easy to hide in the confusing maze of shacks, and it wasn’t even an hour later when Lupus declared that they were safe from further pursuit. After Lupus decided to head over and speak more with Cell Ghoul, Salvo had taken the responsibility of leading them all back to the hideout.

And Silver had been dancing and singing nearly the whole time.

Cleaver seemed to take it well, his usual stony front cracked only by a little smirk which was no doubt due at least in part to the crate filled with Blossom Brew Vodka lovingly balanced on his back. Salvo had a similarly high tolerance, trotting at the head of the little group with the type of determined silence reserved only for seasoned military commanders and high school librarians. Dissero had a certain built up immunity to it as well, something he had learned over many years at Silver’s side. Or at the very least, he could persistently ignore him and would be damned if he let Silver get to him.

Moon Dream wasn’t quite as lucky, and it was starting to show.

“So are they, uh, special goggles or something?” the young pegasus asked, one ear twitching.

“They’re my lucky goggles!” Silver explained. “I can’t fly without them!”

“Yes you can,” Dissero said with a roll of his eyes.

Silver ignored the comment. “I got them on the same day that I earned my cutie mark.” He lowered his voice dramatically, pointing with a feather at the wings and propellers on his flank.

Dissero smirked. “You got them just before you were kicked out of the Academy.”

Once again Silver pretended he didn’t hear, the story flowing forth. “After two years of practice and study, I was finally given the chance to step into an airship’ cockpit, allowed to take up the reins, finally able to spread my wings and soar, and that was the day that I truly knew what it was to be alive!”

“You broke thirty-five regulations, two speed limits, four classrooms, and a killswitch.”

Silver reached out with his good wing, drawing Moon Dream closer. “It was a happy day, Dream. The happiest day of my life.”

Salvo peeked back, frowning. “You don’t sound like a very good pilot.”

“Well it’s not my fault the Academy had so many regulations, speed limits, and classrooms.” Silver pushed Moon Dream away, flicking his tail. “And all so close to the course, too.”

After a few thoughtful moments, she looked away. “C’mon, we’re almost there.”

When Dissero climbed down the ladder into the hideout a few minutes later, he was surprised to see the cramped little underground for more active than before. The rebels moved with renewed vigor after the night’s rest, refusing to be held back by their bandaged wounds. They climbed in and out of the tunnels with bags of supplies, they disassembled and cleaned rickety muskets, and they stopped by with Nix to have their wounds checked and bandages changed. They all looked up as the small party returned, immediately noting the three stallions who they hadn’t yet gotten acquainted with.

First to approach the trio of airponies was a calmly smiling unicorn mare with a light teal coat, orange eyes, and a pale blonde mane. Her smile grew a little wider as she drew closer, speaking with a light, friendly voice.

“Hey there, I’m Spindle Silk. You guys just joined, right?”

Dissero gave the mare a curt nod, brushing past her as he spoke. “That’s right.” If everything went according to plan he’d be out of here within the month, and he would rather avoid getting to know the other rebels as much as possible. With the high casualty rate they seemed to suffer, he had to keep his distance as much as possible. Hopefully they wouldn’t be stuck here too long.

“Oh, well, uh…” Spindle’s voice faltered as the the stallion walked past, clearly intent on avoiding conversation as they headed for the barracks.

Silver Feather stopped at her side. “Aw c’mon, Dissy, why don’t we get to know the others?” He offered a friendly smile as he looked at the mare.

Dissero paused mid-stride, frowning as he searched for a valid excuse. “Because… because… “

“Because it’s time for training,” Salvo said, stepping in front of him.

“Oh, okay!” Spindle Silk said, stepping away. “I understand, you guys go ahead and we can talk later!”

Dissero turned to Salvo, who was watching him with a stern frown. “Follow me,” she said. “Maybe if you pay attention you’ll survive your first raid.”

Far, far above the laborers of the Inner City, Robber Baron took a sip of wine.

He allowed himself a smile as he looked down upon the thick flock of airships, all scrambling to reach a skypier and conduct trade in his own personal city. He recognized many of the larger vessels by heart: there was a Minotaurin freighter carrying heavy machinery, there a Gryphos hauler laden with rare metals, and there a Zebrican airship, holding… perfumes, was it? Chemicals of some kind, he was sure.

He leaned back in the seat on his balcony, in the highest room on the tallest tower for thousands of miles around, and simply enjoyed the sensation of being above.

Another sip of wine, this time letting it sit on his tongue. It wasn’t the taste that spoke to him, no, Baron did not care about that. It was the sheer price of it all, the fact that the bottle had cost more than a Canterlot condo, and that he could afford to simply throw away these funds, that really satisfied him.

Baron’s ear flicked at a polite “ahem” behind him.

“What is it, Pen Knife?”

A voice spoke behind him, professional and refined. “Sir, Industry reports that she’s having problems with the prototype. The moonstone is not acting as predicted.”

Baron frowned, stopping mid-sip as he lowered the glass from his lips. “Has Research any comment on the matter?”

“Yes, Sir,” the voice responded, accompanied by the sound of shuffling paper. “Research responds that he can solve the issue, but he will require additional test subjects. Pegasi.”

“I see.” Baron looked down, peering past the airships and to the surface of the Inner City itself. He had been trying to keep his private industry strong lately, pushing his overseers to squeeze every ounce of energy out of the laborers. Things he’d set in motion long ago were starting to come together, and the loss of more workers would be inconvenient, to say the least. His recruitment rate had faltered as he funneled more resources into other things, he couldn’t simply toss thirty bodies to Research or execute a dozen as an example anymore.

Still, the prototype was crucial. The lost output would not be missed nearly as much as the potentially failed project. And if there was any one of his Ministers that he trusted to get results, then it was Research.

“Very well,” Baron waved a hoof dismissively. “Give him what he needs, and tell him to make it quick. Have Relations ask Gryphos about another shipment of penal workers, as well. Oh, and would you mind…?”

Baron held his glass up, waiting patiently as the bottle, caught in a yellow aura, levitated into view and poured out its remains.

“I’ll have it done, Sir.”

“Thank you, Pen Knife.”

With that, Baron was left alone again. He looked to the Cloudwall now, into that narrow corridor where the massive perpetual hurricane ran over the land, where its old pegasus magic had faded just enough where, bereft of its oceanic fuel, the storm weakened.

He knew how to get ships through, one or two at a time. He’d been trading for certain materials with the Outer World for decades now. But soon he would be able to fit more through, to truly start expanding.

Robber Baron allowed himself another smile before draining the rest of his wine. He tossed the crystal glass off the balcony, sparing the thought of where it might land only a moment before he rose to his hooves. It wasn’t easy having your own private city, after all.

There was always work to be done.

For the next few days, the three air ponies spent nearly all of their time out in the shanty with Salvo, taking part in her lessons. She worked them hard, teaching them how to construct simple weapons from what could be found in the Inner City. She had them pick through the junkyard where old airship parts were left, and with her help were soon able to make small shivs and simple blunderbusses.

“The guards are equipped with deadly ranged weaponry,” she told them on the second day, showing them the strange runed musket she always carried at her side. “This is a rune gun, and every guard carries at least one, most two. If you’re smart, and lucky, you might get your own.”

Balancing the gun on a barrel, she lined it up on a thick piece of metal. She muttered something under her breath, and at her command the gun began to glow a soft purple, the glow beginning near the stock before suddenly jumping up the length of the barrel, peeking out the series of rectangular holes carved into its tip. A small grey sphere shot out of the gun with a startling silence, enveloped in its own purple glow, and punched straight through the metal target.

“They shoot rune slugs,” she continued, “and unlike the bullets that a normal musket or cannon shoots, the slugs have spells inside of them.”

There was a loud, sharp bang! from the other side of the metal, and a dozen shards of shrapnel blasted into the air, all with their own purple glow. The metal was torn to pieces as it was peppered with the fragments. Dissero’s eyes widened in amazement at the sight, and he suddenly realized why the wounds he’d seen had been so severe.

“The average slug will simply explode,” Salvo said, slinging her rune gun onto her back. “I’ve seen them hang in the sky and provide light, curve in mid-air, release poison gas, and burn straight through a pony and then the floor under them.”

It was at that point that Silver spoke up. “Well how the hell do they work? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s some material that the Baron mines out from under those rocks,” Salvo explained. She pointed towards one of the spires of dark black stone that was spread across the Inner City. “His ponies call it moonstone. They carve these runes into it, and somehow they get it to cast spells. We don’t know how it works, but I can tell you that they’re deadly weapons, and you should never underestimate a guard. Understand?”

The three stallions each nodded as she looked to them in turn, and she continued.

“The guards are crack shots, and they can aim in an instant, but they’re too stiff to fight effectively at close range. Standard procedure is to bait their fire, then rush in and hit them with muskets. There’s not much else besides their own guns that can get through their armor from a distance. Once you get close, and I mean point-blank, you’re going to want to aim for their weak spots…”

She spent the rest of that training session covering the guard’s armor and its weaknesses, making sure it was drilled into their heads with constant repetition and questioning. Dissero could feel his skin crawling as she described with robotic clarity the best way to kill a guard, how you should never take on more than two at once, and the most important things to grab off of a rebel if they went down in a fight. Don’t bother with the body, she said, just grab their bags and weapons. Stay away from the guards after you kill them, their guns are set to self-destruct. Stick to the shadows and, whenever you can, run instead of fighting.

Everyday Lupus seemed to grow more impatient, pacing back and forth in the main room, looking over the map of the city. Dissero caught him grumbling to himself about “coward Ghouls” and how they worked so slowly. His impatience was contagious, and Dissero began to wonder if maybe he wasn’t working fast enough, if maybe the Ghouls wouldn’t find his crew in time.

Despite his best efforts, Dissero couldn’t help but get to know the other rebels. When they weren’t busy maintaining the hideout, out gathering supplies, or scouting the city, they would pass the time in the “armory,” which was almost totally empty but for a few crates of scrap metal and gunpowder. Most of the rebels kept their weapons in the barracks, leaving the armory open for use as a social room. While Lupus fussed over his map and his plans in the main room with Salvo, the other rebels relaxed in the armory, eating food given to them by their supporters.

Skystrings, a pegasus with a soft purple coat and matching mane with cool green eyes, would sit on one of the crates and provide music with the guitar he’d made out of scrap and his own mane hair. Zastaflash, a unicorn with a brown coat and green mane, would complain about the rain while his sister Rainy Day, a pegasus with a green coat and brown mane, would insist that the weather was pretty nice, actually. Fizzle Snip, a lime green unicorn mare with bright yellow eyes and a curling yellow mane, told funny stories about her life before Harmony. An orange-maned, yellow earth pony stallion named Open Book would sit quietly off to the side, usually only speaking up to correct one of the other Bloodhounds. All the while, Moon Dream would continue to pester the airponies asking for stories from when they were smugglers, Nix and Spindle Silk listening with varying levels of interest as Silver told completely exaggerated stories. Occasionally Lupus’s unicorn cousin Canus, who had painted himself completely red, would interrupt to tell them to do something, but he mostly kept to himself, prowling the streets on his own.

They were an interesting group of ponies, Dissero had to admit, from all different walks of life. Librarians, musicians, chefs, tailors, and weatherponies. Most of them spoke passionately about their old lives, and how they couldn’t wait to tear the city down from the inside, and it was that very talk that had Dissero laying in his bunk alone, or going out on extra supply runs, or endlessly inspecting his weapons. They were all so like him, so clearly not belonging in this city, he didn’t want to befriend them. Already he’d seen two rebels die here, and it hadn’t even been a week.

Which is why he was so relieved when a Ghoul showed up at the hideout again, declaring that her cell had discovered the location of Stormslider. She was being held in an outpost on one of the spires, something which had immediately sparked an argument between Lupus and Salvo.

“We can’t go break her out of there,” Salvo said, her voice calm and quiet.

“Who’s in charge of this cell, huh!?” Lupus shouted, pacing back and forth. “Is it you? I think that it’s me, and I’m ordering you to help me lead this raid!”

Salvo shook her head firmly. “We can’t, Lupus. We’ll lose too many ponies. We should set up a rotating watch on the outpost and wait for them to move her.”

“And what if we miss it?” Lupus demanded. “They could slip right under our noses, stick her down one of those damned holes in the ground, and then we’ll really be fucked!”

Dissero, who was watching the debate along with his crew and a few other rebels, turned to Nix curiously. “What’s he talking about?”

“The Baron has these underground facilities,” Nix explained. “Ponies get moved from the outposts into those facilities and… well, nopony that’s ever gone in one has come back before.”

“We won’t miss it,” Salvo insisted, looking down at the map. “We can put scouts here, and here, they can see everything from there. The instant she appears they can alert us, and we can head them off here—”

“No!” Lupus shouted, cutting her off. “This has to be done now! If you won’t come then I’ll just have another Hound lead the second team!”

The two ponies stared eachother down, the other rebels watching cautiously from the sidelines.

With a heavy sigh, Salvo backed off. “Fine, but I pick my team.”

Within an instant, Lupus switched from an angry snarl to a confident, excited grin. “Excellent! Meet me up top, ten minutes! We’re storming a spire!”

He spun around, magically slinging his rune gun around his neck as he climbed up the ladder, leaving the remaining rebels in a cautious silence.

Salvo wasted no time in selecting her team, immediately announcing her selection to the surrounding ponie. “Nix, Moon Dream, Zastaflash, Dissero, Silver Feather, Cleaver, you’re with me. Rest of you are with Lupus. Get your gear and head up top, ten minutes. You know he doesn’t like to wait.”

Sounds of agreement passed around the room, broken only by Rainy Day’s high-pitched voice. “I want to be on the same team with Zastaflash!”

“Yeah!” Zastaflash added. “We stick together!”

Salvo leveled her gaze on the two siblings. “Did I stutter?”

Seeing the futility of their protests, Zastaflash and Rainy Day backed down. The hide was suddenly full of energy as the rebels trotted about, grabbing their gear. Gunpowder and shot was passed about as each pony grabbed their makeshift muskets. Ropes and grapple hooks were passed out to all the pegasi but Silver, who looked on silently as the flight-capable ponies wrapped the climbing gear around their barrels. They all layered on thick clothes made of wool and airship fabric, with Salvo and Spindle Silk also firmly strapping metal plates to their chest.

Within ten minutes all of Cell Bloodhound was amassed in the alley and separated into their two squads. After a brief conference with Lupus, Salvo approached her team.

“Stick to the shadows, let’s move,” she said, already making her way out into the street. “I’ll cover the plan once we get to our position.”

She took point, and Zastaflash motioned for Moon Dream and the airponies to fall in behind her as he brought up the rear. Dissero found himself near the back of the line, his chest tight as they stepped out into the heavy rain. He scanned up and down the street nervously, straining his ears to catch any hint of ringing chainmail lurking beneath the thunder, but all he heard was Zastaflash grumbling about the weather behind him.

There was a sudden peal of lightning, and Dissero’s heart jumped as he saw an armored silhouette in an alley. He twisted, opening his mouth to alert the others, but the shape was gone. There was nothing in the shadows but a lonely metal barrel.

Silver looked back, arching a brow. “You feelin’ okay, Dissy?”

Dissero nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

From behind him, Zastaflash’s grizzled voice spoke up. “Cool down, buddy. Salvo almost never loses a pony.”

“Quiet back there!” Salvo hissed, somehow clearly audible through the rain and thunder.

Dissero glanced to the front of the squad, lowering his voice to ensure she wouldn’t hear him. “What do you mean?”

Zastaflash flinched irritably as a particularly large drop of rain landed right on his eye. “Agh, fucking rain… look here, nearly every pony we lose is with Lupus when it happens, so as long as you’re on Salvo’s team and you listen to what she says, you’re pretty safe.” He sighed, looking over to where the other team had headed. “Rainy’d better be careful…”

“So why is Lupus in charge, then?” Dissero asked.

Zastaflash answered with a low chuckle. “You’d have to ask Salvo about that, mate.”

The squad came to a sudden stop, Dissero nearly bumping into Silver’s tail. He looked forwards to see Salvo making a hoof motion, one he recognized from his recent training as ‘Guard spotted, heads down.’

Immediately the six rebels were hugging the street, squeezing themselves against the nearby building as they strained to blend into the shadows. Dissero was alarmed to hear the ringing chainmail so close already, it must have been hidden under the sound of the storm.

Eyes forwards, Dissero saw a column of ten ponies being marched down the street, their hooves all connected by a series of steel chains and cuffs. Four guards surrounded them, two stationed at each corner of the formation. At the front of the formation was a dark grey pegasus with cool blue eyes, his leather barding stained a dark brown by the rain.

Dissero’s eyes narrowed. Ashfall.

Scanning the group of chained ponies, Dissero could just barely make out a flash of red in the darkness, and as the group drew closer to one of the street lamps, his suspicions were confirmed. There was Stormslider, near the back of the group, her face hidden beneath her limp, drenched mane.

He’d found her.

Part of him wanted to get up right there, to yell for the rest of the squad to charge and free his friend, but the rest of him knew it wouldn’t be smart. Four guards, plus Ashfall, against six rebels, most of which were rookies? No, to show himself now would be death for him, the rest of the squad, and his crew. Slowly, he reached a cautioning hoof out and laid it on Silver’s tail. He could see the pegasus trembling, and he knew that Silver was having the very same conflict inside him.

The ponies marched out of sight and, as the sound of chainmail faded away, Salvo stood up again. The other rebels followed suit, all gathering around her as she beckoned them close.

Silver immediately spoke up, cutting Salvo off as she began to speak. “That was Stormslider, she was there! We need to go get her.”

Salvo raised a hoof, signalling for silence. “No, we can’t take them on our own.” She turned to Moon Dream. “Go and find Lupus, quickly. Tell him to set an ambush at the entrance to the underground. Our target’s been spotted. Leave your rope.”

With a curt nod and a strong flap of his wings, Dream was airborne. He paused to drop his rope and hook on the street, shooting a nervous smile towards the airponies before he set off. He flew low to the ground, diving into the alley between two buildings and out of sight.

Nix wrapped the rope around her barrel, tying one end around a hoof. “What’s your plan?” she asked.

“We’re gonna go get her, right?” Silver asked.

Cleaver put a calming hoof on Silver’s shoulder. “Let her speak, da?”

Salvo gave a brief nod of appreciation to the large stallion. “We’ll set an ambush along their path, cut them off. With the whole cell assembled and surprise on our side, we should be able to handle it. Let’s go.”

They moved at a brisk pace through the city, frequently ducking into the alleys and cutting across streets as they rushed to reach the ambush point in time. Salvo, Nix, and Rastaflash were together at the front, the more experienced rebels scanning the city carefully as they moved. Meanwhile Silver Feather, Dissero, and Cleaver brought up the rear, each of the airponies lost in their thoughts.

Dissero glanced between his friends, gauging their mental states. Silver was clearly more worried about Storm than anything else, his good wing flared and the bad one twitching within its wrappings, as if itching to stretch free and carry its owner into the skies. Cleaver… well, Dissero could never really tell what the big stallion was thinking. Probably something involving vodka.

They came to a stop in an alley near a small circular plaza. In the center of the plaza was a small, squat stone building with little features besides the single metal door set in one side. Salvo made a hoof motion, ‘Up and over,’ and Nix immediately began to unwrap the rope around her barrel. She grunted as she tossed the grappling hook up, the metal prongs travelling almost all the way up the length of the two story building besides them before it began to slow. It glowed green as Zastaflash caught it in his magic, nursing it the rest of the way onto the roof.

Nix gave it a firm tug and, satisfied, signaled for the others to start climbing. One by one the rebels made their way up the side of the building and onto the roof, Nix coming up last.

“Keep low,” Salvo said. “Don’t silhouette yourself.” She crawled up to the edge of the rooftop, carefully scanning the plaza. She pointed to the airponies, then to an alley across the street. “You three head over there. Nix, Zasta, to the opposite alley. I’ll draw fire from here. Move.”

A round of nods passed around the group as Nix rappeled back down into the alley. The rest of the rebels followed soon after and, once Salvo tossed the grappling hook down to them, rushed to take their positions.

Just as the three airponies splashed to a stop, the sound of thunder faded away to reveal the ringing chainmail hidden beneath. Dissero shivered as the rain sunk through his layered clothes and into his coat, his heart ticking away the seconds as it grew steadily closer.

“Augh, fuck, where’s Lupus?” Silver muttered. “We barely outnumber them without him.”

Dissero shook himself, looking to Cleaver and Silver besides him. “Alright, just like Salvo showed us. Once they fire we all, rush in, go to the same target. Fire and run out before they can reload.” He was pleased to hear his voice come out clear and strong, not betraying his nerves. He was the captain, he had to be the stone, the fixed point for his crew to anchor themselves to. Just like in the stories.

“Yes, Kaptain.”

“Same target, right.”

The chainmail grew closer, steadily ever closer, the ringing keeping that same dreadful rhythm. Dissero couldn’t help but look behind him, scan the other rooftops, searching. Where was Lupus, and with him the rest of Cell Bloodhound?

“I’ll go out first,” Dissero said. “You guys follow my lead.”

“Yes, Kaptain.

“We’ve got your back.”

Images of the guards turning on him filled his mind, of one of those softly glowing rune slugs punching through his flesh, digging their way into him before exploding, blasting him to pieces. Salvo wouldn’t bother with his body, she’d just take his weapons, leaving him broken and alone. He clenched his eyes shut, driving the thoughts out. He had to go first, for his crew. If anything was going to happen to them, it had to happen to him.

He took a deep breath as he opened his eyes, the butterflies going out of control in his stomach. The ringing was close now, and just as Dissero thought he could make out the scraping of steel plates, he saw the front of the column march into view. Ashfall led the way, and even through the wet Dissero could pick up the scent of leather coming off of him. He grit his teeth, his fear being partially replaced by anger.

The column was right in front of them now, directly between the two alleys where the rebels lay on wait. Dissero looked up to the rooftops, seeing no sign of Salvo. Had something gone wrong? He scratched at the ground, wondering if he should pull back, or charge forth on his own.

But no, there! A soft purple glow from the roof! Almost immediately the four guards swiveled around, their own rune guns starting to glow as well. Ashfall was a little slower, following the guards’ aim as he looked up to the roof where Salvo was perched.

Thunder rolled over the city as Salvo’s gun ejected its payload, the slug hurtling forwards and punching through one of the lead guard’s armor. She ducked back just as the guards fired, narrowly avoiding the six purple glows that soared right through the air where she once was.

The hit guard stumbled, his own slugs traveling far off target. With a muffled pop! the slug within him detonated, filling him with deadly shrapnel. He fell to the ground heavily, the water turning red around his body.

“Rebels!” Ashfall snarled. He turned to the remaining guards as he flared his wings, and Dissero saw the two rune guns nestled beneath them. “Send an alarm!” He took off, flying straight for Salvo.

Dissero took a breath. My turn.

Letting loose a terrified yell, Dissero barreled out of the alley, the sound of his crew’s hooves splashing through the water behind him giving him strength. Adrenaline surged through his veins as he zeroed in on the closest guard, racing to close the distance. In his peripheral vision he saw Zastaflash and Nix doing the same, their faces masks of concentration.

The closest guard turned to Dissero, whose heart jumped as he saw the purple glow already building up around the guard’s guns. They reloaded so fast! He skidded to a stop before the guard, frantically lined up his shot, and magically pulled the trigger.

Bang! The roar of the musket was like thunder at his side as shards of metal flew forth, peppering the guard’s armor. The guard stumbled back with the force of the shot, but otherwise seemed unharmed.

Bang! Bang! Silver and Cleaver were hot on his heels, each one unloading their own hails of shrapnel on the guard. Metal ripped through the weak points in his armor, spraying blood onto Dissero’s face. Although Silver ran past the guard, Cleaver instead opted to gallop straight into him, releasing a mighty roar as he tackled the guard to the ground.

But still the guard seemed unfazed, shoving Cleaver off with a mighty heave and steadily lumbering to his hooves. Dissero scanned the battlefield with wide eyes, seeing that Zastaflash and Nix had properly dispatched their target and were ducking back for the alley. The one unharassed guard was lining shots up on them as they ran, and Dissero’s target began to level his own guns on him. There was no sign of Salvo or Ashfall.

Time seemed to slow down. This wasn’t right, everything was going wrong, this wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. There were still two guards left and they’d fired all their shots. Where was Lupus? Where were the rest of the Hounds?

“Get down!”

Silver slammed into Dissero, knocking him into the ground as two trails of purple flew over him. The slugs embedded themselves in the wall behind him before detonating harmlessly.

“Snap out of it, you idiot!”

Dissero blinked, suddenly aware that he’d just been standing still in the middle of the street. Looking around, he saw everything bathed in a purple glow. Hanging low in the sky was a bright purple star, gently falling. A signal flare, Salvo had called them.

Dissero rolled to his hooves. The chained ponies had together managed to wrestle one of the guards to the ground, pinning him down. Zastaflash, Nix, and Cleaver stood over the remaining guard, the latter’s hooves stained red.

“Did we do it?” Dissero asked.

“Not yet, mate,” Zastaflash said, looking up at the now fading flare. “There’ll be guards swarming all over here in ten minutes. We’ve gotta get your mare and get outta here.”

“Where’s Salvo?” Nix asked.

“Ashfall went after her,” Silver said. “Flew right up to where she was.”

“Fuck, that was Ashfall?” Zastaflash whistled as he trotted over to the pinned down guard, a long shank floating besides him. “He’s a tough nut.”

Dissero followed after him, shivering as the helpless guard was executed. The chained ponies all let out cries of relief, thanks, and confusion.

“What is this place?”

“Who are you?”

“I thought I was done for!”

“Good to see you again, Captain.”

Hearing Stormslider’s voice again, Dissero couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. “Are you alright, Storm?”

The mare nodded. “Looks like it, thanks to you.” Zastaflash began making his way down the line of shackled ponies, picking the locks with his shank and some makeshift lockpicks.

Silver stepped up to the mare, wrapping a wing around her as her cuffs were unlocked. “Fuck, Storm, good to know you’re alright.”

“Let’s not have the reunion yet, mates,” Zastaflash said, tucking his tools away in his mane. “We’ve still got to get before the guards arrive.”

Meanwhile, Nix was speaking with the rest of the rescued ponies. “I’m sorry, but we can’t give you shelter! You’ll all have to make it out of the industrial zone on your own, split up and head for the walls! Go, while you still can!”

Scared and confused, the nine ponies scattered into the city, each heading a different way. Dissero couldn’t help but wonder how many of them would make it to the relative safety of the shanty.

“So where do we go from here?” Storm asked, looking around.

“Back to the hide,” Zastaflash said. “Quickly, before the guards arrive.”

“Where’s Salvo?” Dissero asked.

“Don’t worry about her, she’ll be fine,” Nix said. Her’s ears flicked as the ringing of chainmail echoed down the street, growing louder at an alarming pace. “Let’s move.”

She set off down an alley, the other rebels falling in behind her. Stormslider was moving noticeably slow, gritting her teeth with every step. Dissero and Silver each fell back to lend her a shoulder, Cleaver bringing up the rear.

“What happened to your wing?” Storm asked.

“Just some mare problems, don’t worry about it,” Silver said. He raised his voice, calling out to Nix. “We need to slow down, she can’t take this pace!”

Nix paused, looking back. “Damnit. Everyone reload, we aren’t going to outrun them at this speed.”

“I’m fine, you don’t need to slow down for me,” Storm said, wincing as Silver set her against the side of the alley. The rebels all pulled out their shot and powder, rushing to get their muskets ready to fire under the limited rain protection of the surrounding walls.

“You are poor liar, Stormslider,” Cleaver rumbled.

“Don’t worry,” Dissero said as he closed the breech on his freshly loaded musket. “We’re getting you safe.”

At the front of the line, Nix snapped her second musket shut. “Everyone ready? Let’s move.”

They made their way through the city cautiously, dodging the increasingly more common patrols. The guards truly were swarming around them now, the patrols a net growing ever tighter around the source of the signal flare . More than once they were forced to wait in place for nearly half an hour until it was safe enough for them to advance, and in one case they were even forced to take down a pair of guards that wandered into the alley they hid in.

They were nearly there, Dissero starting to recognize the buildings as those around the hide, when they came across a large patrol of a whole six guards, led by a snarling Ashfall. The dark pegasus had fresh bandages wrapped around one of his legs, and was bleeding from a gash on his cheek. Sharp steel blades were attached to his feathers, one of them glistening red.

Nix made the appropriate hoof signal, and the rebels lowered themselves to the ground, Stormslider hesitating only slightly before catching on. The mare was exhausted now, stumbling forth even slower than before.

Then, from right behind them, came the ringing of chainmail.

A chill ran down Dissero’s spine as he turned around. Two more guards were making their way up the alley, growing steadily closer. Soon they would catch sight of the rebels, and the sound of the fighting would no doubt alert Ashfall’s patrol. They were trapped.

Nix’s hurried whisper traveled across the group. “Okay, take the two in the back first. Then we’ll try to get out that way. If it comes down to it, I’ll stay behind and stall them. Zasta knows the way to the hide.”

Nods traveled around the assembled ponies. The air ponies turned to face the patrol closing in on them, making sure to keep Stormslider firmly in the center of the group.

And then, suddenly, Moon Dream dropped down amongst them, grinning eagerly. “I found Lupus.”

Skystrings and Open Book both fell on the two guards in the alley from above, each one knocking their target down before slipping a shank into the narrow opening under the guards’ neck armor. Book let out a little chuckle as he straightened up. “That should teach them to step into our alleys.”

Not even a second later Lupus’s voice rang through the night. “Get ‘em, Hounds!”

Dissero turned just in time to see Rainy Day jump off the building into the street, trailing a rope behind her. Spindle Silk, Fizzle Snip, and Lupus trailed after her, sliding down the rope dangerously fast. Lupus leapt off the rope halfway down, headed straight for Ashfall.

Ashfall snarled as he flapped his wings, propelling himself into the air and dodging the tackle. Lupus rolled as he landed, jumped over a nearby guard, and shot him point-blank with a rune gun. The guard stumbled, recovered his balance, and was thrown forcibly to the street as the slug detonated, tearing apart his innards.

One down, six to go.

Ashfall dove down on Lupus, the two stallions engaging in a fierce exchange of blades as the five remaining guards turned on the other rebels, guns glowing. Rainy, Spindle, and Snip tackled the closest guard, pinning him and filling him with shot. At the same time Zastaflash and Nix rushed another, peppering his armor with with hot shrapnel, but to no avail. Canus leapt out of the far alley, rushing for Ashfall only to be knocked unconscious by a swift buck to the head.

Dissero turned to his crew, heart pounding. “With me!” He charged out of the alley just as three of the guards fired, the six deadly purple glows streaking through the night. Luckily, none of them were headed for him; it seemed the airponies hadn’t yet been seen.

Cleaver pulled ahead, slamming into the nearest guard and knocking him back. He grabbed the guard, wrestling him to the ground with Silver’s help, and Dissero planted the barrel of his musket square in the guard’s chest before firing. The other two stallions followed suit, and the guard’s body jerked wildly before falling limp.

Three down, just four more left.

Dissero turned, his heart skipping a beat as he saw twin streaks of purple headed straight for him. He dove to the ground, covering his head with his hooves as the slugs hit the building behind him, exploding and showering him with hot shrapnel. He hissed in pain as the shards cut into his flank, easily ripping through his clothes and coat.

Silver rushed to his side. “Dissy, you alright!?”

Dissero grunted as he climbed to his hooves. “I’m fine, it’s alright.”

Rainy Day cried out as a guard’s rune gun, it’s owner now dead, self-destructed before her and scattered shrapnel through her coat. She fell over, cradling her face in her hooves.

At the same time, Ashfall stumbled backwards under the force of a mighty downwards slash from Lupus. He shook himself, scanning the battlefield, snarling as he saw that his patrol of guards had been eliminated. “Fucking rebels!”

“Not just any rebels!” Lupus shouted, charging towards him. “Cell Bloodhound, and don’t you forget it!”

Ashfall leapt out of the way of the attack with a flap of his wings, soared over Spindle Silk and Open Book, and landed directly on top of Rainy Day. A sickening crack! rang through the night, shortly followed by a shrill scream of pain, as the injured mare’s spine was snapped in two.

Zastaflash pulled his shank out of the final guard’s corpse, looking to his sister. “Rainy!” He sprinted for her, the rest of the rebels close behind him, his eyes daggers aimed straight for Ashfall.

But Ashfall was ready. He flapped one wing, pushing himself out of the way of the charge even as his rune guns began to glow.

Zastaflash found himself charging through empty air, clumsily stumbling over Rainy’s unconscious body as he scrambled to avoid stepping on her. By the time he finally came to a stop and turned to face his target once more, it was already too late.

Ashfall’s guns finished charging, the twin rune slugs soaring forth.

For an endless moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Nopony said anything, even the thunder was momentarily silent. Rune guns made no noise when they fired, leaving only the falling rain to fill the void.

The spell was broken as Zastaflash screamed, one slug punching into his leg as the other sliced into his flank. The force of the impacts threw him to the ground, where he lay gasping in shock, the rain slowly staining red beneath him.

He rolled onto his side, his eyes refocusing as he looked to his allies, wide with terror. He opened his mouth, weak voice barely audible. “H-hel—”

With a muffled pop the slugs detonated. Zastaflash’s leg was propelled clear across the street, while his chest simply burst like an overfilled balloon. Dissero flinched as hot blood splattered across his face, and when he opened his eyes he saw Zastaflash’s torn and mangled body sprawled upon the street, both forelegs blasted away, a chunk of flesh missing from his chest, and his eyes empty, staring into nothingness.

Dissero nearly fell over, his legs going weak at the sight of that dead stare. He just managed to catch himself as he dropped to his knees, tearing his eyes away as he looked up to the dark sky of Harmony City. In the distance he saw a dark-coated pegasus flying away, discernible for just a moment before fading into the night.

Silver Feather’s good wing flared, his eyes set on the spot where Ashfall had disappeared.. He crouched down as if getting ready to take off, snarling, “What’re we waiting for? Let’s get ‘em!”

“We can’t,” Spindle Silk spat bitterly. “The instant any pegasus flies more than a few feet above the rooftops they’re shot out of the sky. There’s no cover up there.”

“She’s still alive!” Nix called, looking up from Rainy Day’s comatose form. “We need to get back to the hide, now.”

“Let’s head home, Hounds,” Lupus said, his voice quiet yet commanding, somehow clear through the rain and thunder. He levitated Canus onto his back as he started back towards the hide, and Spindle Silk did the same for Rainy Day. Fizzle Snip gently grabbed Zastaflash’s broken corpse in her magic, laying him across her back.

Casualties accounted for, they resumed their trip home. Chainmail echoed in the distance, further than before but growing steadily closer. With the guards’ search net broken, the rebels slipped into the night, leaving only death in their wake.

They left the guard’s bodies behind, the rain slowly washing the redness away. The mess had already been cleared away by the Baron’s ponies when laborers passed through the street the next morning, leaving no sign that anything had ever happened.

Author's Notes:

No, I totally didn't almost forget to update today. That certainly didn't slip my mind until just now.
It's an experiment. Experimentally late updating.

Don't look at me!

Chapter X

“Is that your full report?”

Ashfall gave a curt nod, another scar on his face from last night’s skirmish. The magic of the Baron’s healers was potent, but the accelerated healing always left a mark. “Yes, Sir.”

Robber Baron hummed thoughtfully from behind his desk, eyeing the dancing shadows cast by his fireplace. It was around ten in the morning the next day, but the sheer height of the Cloudwall would prevent the sun from shining through the ornate glass doors of the balcony behind him for another hour at least. “And you said it was Cell Bloodhound?”

Another nod from Ashfall. “Yes, Sir.”

“What’s that bastard thinking?” Baron muttered, looking over the timetable on his desk. He recognized the name, the Bloodhounds were one of the most active rebel cells in the city, and had been a consistent thorn in his side even as others had slackened. But freeing random research subjects? All but one of the potential escapees had been accounted for, and the Bloodhounds’ leader was smart, smart enough to know that his little raid would do little to disrupt the Baron’s operations. There was a whole pool of laborers he could easily select ponies from, if he wished.

It was the one that wasn’t accounted for, the one that escaped, which bothered him. That pony had to of been their objective, otherwise why bother? A pegasus, Stormslider, some cloudgineering talent. The Bloodhounds had a plan involving her, something besides their usual warehouse raid or industrial bombing, something that would hurt more than a repair bill or extra material order. A cloudgineer could be a dangerous enemy with so many airships around, many equipped with Equestrian cloud engines.

“Is everything okay, Sir?”

Baron looked up, having nearly forgotten that Ashfall was there. The pegasus was a capable warrior, and a skilled tactician no less. “I think another promotion is in order, Ashfall. I shall have a team of fliers assigned to you, I want you to keep them at the ready around-the-clock. We’ll have to keep a close eye on these rebels for the coming month. If everything goes smoothly, you may find yourself with a command in the Outer World. Dismissed.”

“Thank you, Sir. I won’t let you down, Sir.” Ashfall gave a crisp bow, his mask of neutrality cracking at the hint of a smile. He turned in place, making to leave the Baron’s quarters.

Baron watched silently as the elevator doors closed behind the pegasus. He was rising through the ranks fast, much to Baron’s satisfaction. He made mental notes to ask Pen Knife to prepare the necessary paperwork during his noon report, to ask Research about progress on the prototype, and to have Intelligence focus on domestic affairs. His schedule could be set back considerably by this new rebel plan, whatever it was, and that simply wouldn’t do. As long and hard as he’d worked to get to where he was…

Nodding, Baron returned to the stack of minor reports on his expansive desk. Despite himself, however, he found it difficult to keep his mind focused.

Dissero often found his mind drifting, in the wake of the rescue operation.

He was glad to have Stormslider back, of course, and she had already begun joining them in their training sessions. Still there was no word on Ember, but Dissero remained confident she would pop up soon. He was more worried about whether she would even join the rebels at his side than he was the possibility of her death. Her fire wasn’t easy to extinguish, for better or worse.

Salvo had shown up at the hide the next morning, one leg marred by three shallow gashes and the metal plate she wore over her chest dented and scratched. She had been forced to flee from Ashfall after taking her wound, and had spent the night hiding from patrolling guards. She’d said little more beyond that, deflecting any other questions as she settled into her bunk.

But it was the dead that truly occupied Dissero’s mind. He hadn’t known Zastaflash well, beyond his darker humor and constant complaints about the weather, but it hadn’t made his all-too-sudden absence any less disturbing. His bunk lay empty at night now, like far too many of the others. Lupus had summoned a pair of silent, bleak stallions to the hide the next day, to take care of the body. Cell Scythe, Nix had called them, the undertakers of the Inner City.

Dissero couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy as Rainy watched her brother’s corpse carried away, the cloth draped over him mercifully hiding its mangled state. Rainy’s spine had been broken in the fight with Ashfall, and when she’d regained consciousness later on she’d been crushed by the terrible news. She’d not only lost her brother, but she’d also lost control of her hind legs. Unable to walk on her own, she’d needed Spindle Silk’s help to climb out of the hide and accompany her brother on his final journey.

And what of the guards? In the heat of the moment he’d had little trouble shooting to kill, but now he was grateful that he hadn’t made any fatal blows. The fear in Zastaflash’s eyes as he realized he was about to die had shook Dissero to his core. Did the guards have that same fear, as the rebels fell upon like them like hunters from the shadows? The other rebels had all dispatched them far too easily for comfort, slipping their shanks into the cracks in their armor without hesitation. Would he find himself killing without a second thought as well, if he fought too long?

Silver and Storm had shared the same disturbing thoughts in the wake of the battle, though Cleaver remained steadfastly unfazed as always.

It was two days later when Salvo led the four airponies out on a scavenge patrol, making a short trek through the city to one of the great junkyards where old airship parts were left to rust under the constant rain. Dissero couldn’t tear his mind away from his dark trepidations as he picked through the skeletons of dead airships, their once proudly gleaming steel now rusted and weak, sometimes falling apart in his hooves as he picked them up. I wonder if my ship is in here, somewhere?

Salvo frowned, looking between the airponies from the corner of her eye as she ripped a patch of fabric from the bones of an airship balloon. She grunted as the fabric finally tore free, dropping it to her hooves. “Is something bothering you all?”

Dissero looked away from the long metal pipe floating in his magic. “It’s just…” He paused, carefully phrasing his next words.

Silver stepped onto a thin sheet of metal, flinching back as it cracked and collapsed under his hoof. He peered down into the darkness of the freshly formed hollow in the pile of junk as he spoke. “It’s the way you all kill the guards,” he said with his usual bluntness. “Doesn’t it bug you, just killing ponies like that?”

Salvo cocked her head, as if considering the idea for the first time. She shrugged, bundling her scavenged fabric up before pushing it into her bags. “The guards aren’t real ponies anymore.”

Stormslider frowned from her position near the top of the pile, arching a brow. “Isn’t that going a bit far?”

Salvo shook her head, already scratching around inside a large, hollow turbine, before elaborating. “No, the guards really aren’t full ponies. Have you seen the way they move, the stiffness? The uniformity?” Her voice traveled with an odd metallic echo as it bounced between the steel sides of the turbine.

The airponies each gave a little nod. Cleaver found a large glass bottle under a rusted metal sheet and inspected it curiously.

“It’s because they’ve had something… drained from them,” she said, re-emerging from the turbine empty-hooved. “Those guards are barely alive, as they are. They don’t feel pain, they don’t feel mercy. You can cut off every leg and they won’t make a noise, they’ll just continue to fight until they bleed out. They aren’t pony.”

Dissero shivered at the way that Salvo said that. Somehow he had the feeling that she had first-hoof experience on the matter.

“What makes them that way?” Stormslider asked, gently flying further down the junk pile.

Salvo shrugged. “Even the Ghouls don’t know. None of them even have any color under that armor, or any hair or wings or horns. They’re just empty bodies, so don’t hesitate to put them down. You’re doing them a service.”

Dissero gave a thoughtful little grunt, looking up to the massive tower in the center of the city, the tower from where Robber Baron controlled all of Harmony.

Cleaver gave a little smile as he saw that his bottle was labeled with a stylized triple-S. Stalliongrad Swan Song, his favorite brew. He showed the bottle to Silver, who gave him a congratulatory hoofbump, before placing it in his own bag.

When they returned to the hide just before sunset, laden with scrap for replacing more of their easily broken weapons, Dissero was surprised to see Lupus actually smiling, leaning over his map and muttering excitedly.

He looked up from the map as the scavenge party entered. “Ah, there you are, took ya long enough! The Ghouls came through, they found your mechanic!”

“Really?” Dissero asked. “Where is she?” Despite himself, he found anxiety triumphing over relief inside him. He was glad that Ember had been found, but at the same time he couldn’t help but be nervous about seeing her again. Still, he could talk to the rest of his crew about how best to approach her, and hopefully she wouldn’t be—

“I’m right here, Captain.”

Oh, fuck me.

There she was, having just crawled out from the barracks, her coat marred by several partially healed bruises and scratches. She flicked her tail, ears back as she advanced on him.

Dissero raised a hoof cautiously. “Ember, I—”

“Save it,” she spat. Coming into hoof’s reach, she practically punched him in the chest as she talked. “I’m not here because of you, okay? I’m here on my own, fighting against the blazing fuck that dares to think he can hold me here and get away with it. I am going to burn him to a shriveled little crisp! And I don’t care how hard you beg me, if you even think for a second that I’m willing to forgive you then so help me Celestia I will rip out your innards and set them on fire!” She was yelling now, her breath hot on Dissero’s face.

Dissero opened his mouth. “I—”

“And the only thing keeping me from doing that now is that I need your help to destroy this Robber Baron! So you’d better watch your back because as soon as he’s down... you are next on my list.”

For a few seconds nopony said anything, Ember giving Dissero her best silent glare while the other rebels looked on meekly from the peripherals. Even Lupus seemed moved by the outburst, though he looked more impressed than afraid.

Satisfied, Ember turned to wave at the rest of the crew. “It’s good to see you’re all okay.”

“Uh… yeah, you too…” Silver mumbled. Cleaver offered a little agreeing grunt.

Storm drew closer to the fiery mare, putting a hoof on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Ember snorted as she drew back, tossing her mane. “No, I’m not alright! I tried working in the shipyards, y’know, I thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, but they just had us…” She faltered, her voice wavering. “I had to take her apart, the ship, rip it all up and…” She choked back a sob, turning around and hurriedly climbing into the tunnel to the barracks.

On the far side of the room, Moon Dream looked between the airponies. “Is she crying over an airship?”

The next couple of days were exceedingly awkward for Dissero.

He was happy at first, of course. It was a great relief to know that his crew was all alive and mostly unharmed, that his mistakes hadn’t yet led to the worst. Unfortunately, Ember was absolutely set on staying angry at him, and whenever he was around her she would do little more than shoot him hostile glares and growl insults and threats. She wasn’t nearly as hostile with the rest of the crew, and Dissero could even hear them bantering in the barracks or the armory when he was out of sight. Every now and then the crew would make another attempt at convincing Ember to forgive him, at least partially, but she remained steadfast, and Dissero found his relief being steadily replaced by exasperation.

Lupus, meanwhile, moved with a new energy which Dissero found to be frankly unsettling. His recent losses in battle were forgotten, and he spent countless hours talking with Salvo, Canus, and Nix over his map. He made frequent trips to speak with Cell Ghoul, often coming back frustrated and yelling about how hard it was to find a ‘real’ rebel in the city, but he was always back to his restless planning within a couple hours.

The other rebels didn’t forget so easily. Zastaflash had been the third death in three raids, an unusually high rate according to Spindle Silk. Rainy Day stopped meeting with the others in the armory, now entirely reliant on others to move. She would ask for help outside in the mornings, sitting silently in the rain before being helped back inside at night. Together the rebels managed to put together a simple wheel harness for her, allowing her to at least move around on her own, though she still needed help getting through the tunnels or up the ladder.

One day she just didn’t come back, disappearing along with a few rations and a couple of muskets.

Dissero never heard of her again.

“So where do you get all these herbs?”

It was the day after Rainy’s disappearance, and Dissero was helping Nix prepare herbal remedies in her clinic. Several distinct leaves and flowers were sorted into small piles on her worktable, and nearly half of her beds were occupied by quietly coughing patients. There was a sickness going around Harmony, it would seem.

“With all this dirt and rain, some of them grow naturally,” Nix said, placing some clay pots onto the table. “The hardier seeds just blow over the wall and find a place to grow. Others are grown in personal gardens maintained by ponies lucky enough to find seeds that fall off the airships.”

Dissero leaned in, inspecting a plant with five broad purple flowers. “I haven’t seen any gardens around.”

Nix nodded. “It’s not easy to start one. Things don’t fall off the ships often, and seeds even less. What seeds there are in the city are closely guarded, and those with gardens often pay others in food to protect them. Don’t levitate that, it’s volatile to magic.”

“Ow!” Dissero flinched back as the medicine mare flicked his horn with a hoof, causing his magic to fizzle before he could float the flower up to his eyes. “So what do you trade in exchange for the herbs?”

A small smile graced her lips. “Seeds may be rare, but a competent healer is even rarer.”

Dissero’s ears flicked at the sound of the door opening, and he turned to see Salvo stepping inside. “Ah, there you are.”

Nix arched a brow as she glanced at the newcomer. “Aren’t you going to the assembly today?”

Salvo nodded, turning to Dissero. “I am, and Lupus wants you to come as well.”

“What, me?” Dissero asked incredulously. “I’ve barely been in the city for two weeks!”

Salvo beckoned with her head, already heading for the door. “Let’s go, you don’t want to be late.”

She stepped outside, and Dissero turned to Nix. “Is she serious?”

“Have you ever heard her tell a joke?” Nix asked, setting aside a freshly mixed poultice. “You should take it as a compliment, and… be careful, too.” She frowned thoughtfully. “There’s too much politics in the city these days.”

“Alright, thanks.” With a little wave, Dissero made his way into the street.

Salvo was waiting for him, and started down the winding dirt path as soon as she saw him. Dissero sped up slightly to close the distance, falling in behind her as she weaved past the other ponies.

“So what’s this assembly thing?” Dissero asked, ears flicking as group of ponies nearby loudly followed the movements of a set of dice.

“The rebel leaders and their lieutenants get together every month or two to plot,” Salvo explained.

“Against the Baron?”

Salvo let out a little snort. “That’s the idea.”

Dissero cocked his head at that, picking up on the thinly veiled irritation in her voice. “And why am I going? I’m hardly a veteran lieutenant.”

Salvo responded with a little grunt at first, and after an extended silence added, “Lupus wants to show you off.”

“What?” Dissero asked. Show him off? He thought back to when he’d first met Lupus, to the look in his eyes when he’d heard that he was an airship captain with a capable crew. There was something going on that Lupus wasn’t telling him, some plan he was keeping hidden.

“Just keep quiet, okay? Everything will be fine.”

Dissero frowned at the back of Salvo’s head, but said nothing. Whatever it was that Lupus was getting at, he doubted Salvo would simply tell him. Thinking of the rebel’s recent casualties, Dissero couldn’t help but curse his luck once more at being stuck in the city. He didn’t have the knowledge or the assets to get back to Equestria on his own, but at the same time he had the creeping suspicion that joining the Bloodhounds had set him and his crew on an increasingly dangerous path.

He said nothing as Salvo led him across the shanty, instead listening to the conversation of those they passed. Most of the denizens of the Inner City spoke in hushed tones of their work, their crafts, and idle gossip as they watched exhausted mares and stallions with faded grey coats haul rickety wagons of junk down the street. He heard ponies arguing about rebels, a pair of zebra hailing them as brave warriors on one street while ponies on another complained about how they made everything harder for everyone else. They passed a group of four griffons perched on a roof speaking in their native tongue, but Dissero’s understanding of Gryphon was too spotty to make anything out.

The journey passed by quickly, and soon Dissero found himself approaching a squat building that was unusually clean and sturdy in its construction. The walls were made of wood, a rarity in the treeless cityscape of Harmony, and even seemed to be decorated with intricate carvings. Wooden signs hung at each side of the door, both engraved with a simple image of gentle wings curving downwards, connected by a single curved line which arced through the center. A narrow triangle rose up from the center of the arc, pointing towards a stylized sun which floated above it all.

Dissero recognized the symbol from his old history classes: the Aftersun. Before the Imperial Age, the tribes had worshipped a varied pantheon of goddesses, but once the Princesses had overthrown Discord and ascended to the throne the pantheon had fallen to the wayside, unable to keep followers with two far more relatable deities to compete with. The symbol had still been carved into the sides of many churches and cemeteries, however, and now represented death, the afterlife, and remembrance.

“Uh, what is this?” he asked.

“One of Cell Scythe’s pyre sites,” Salvo said, pushing through the door without hesitation. It didn’t even have a handle, let alone a lock. “They cremate the bodies here.”

“Ah.” The pyre site wasn’t a building so much as it was a courtyard, with a central square of dirt that had been packed down by hundreds of hooves over the decades. In the center of the yard was a platform made of charred wood and covered by a similarly charred wooden roof. Metal sheets hung over the edges of the yard, providing shelter from the rain, each tied to the three wood and metal shacks that, together with a few lengths of warped wooden wall, formed the perimeter of the site.

As if to prove Salvo’s earlier statement, there was a fire going on the wooden pyre as they entered, a pony body resting on a pile of flaming coals. A single grey stallion stood solemn watch over the body, giving a slight nod towards the incoming rebels before turning back to his charge. There were no other ponies in the yard, nopony to mourn the currently burning dead. Dissero wondered how many ponies were cremated here with none to mourn them, their lonely bodies simply picked up off the street. He wrinkled his nose at the terrible scent hanging in the air.

Salvo led the way towards the shack on the left, unfazed by the burning flesh and hair. Dissero followed, head down as he choked back a gag. How does that stallion stand the smell?

Dissero took in a relieved breath of air as they stepped into the little building, looking up to see a simple round table with ten chairs arranged around it. Four of the chairs were currently occupied, Dissero recognizing one of the seated ponies as Ghost, the leader of Cell Ghoul, while several other ponies hovered along the peripherals. Hot embers burned in a small firepit beneath raised slits in the roof, thankfully devoid of dead bodies.

“Aha, there you are!”

Dissero jumped at the sudden exclamation, turning to see Lupus rapidly approaching from the nearby corner. He must’ve been waiting for us by the door.

Salvo glanced around the room, narrowing her eyes at the collected ponies. “Is this all?”

Lupus scoffed, flicking his tail. “Not much, but it’s better than nothing! Now that you two are here we can finally start, at least.”

Salvo cocked her head. “Shouldn’t we wait to see if more cells arrive?”

“Wait? Hah!” Lupus spat. “I’ve waited long enough already!” He marched up to the table and dropped down into a seat, raising his voice to be heard across the room. “Alright, dogs, let’s get this meeting started! Lupus for Cell Bloodhound, present!”

If any of the other rebels were offended by the title, they did a good job of hiding it as the room quieted, several conversations cutting off abruptly. Ghost even seemed to be amused, a flicker of a smile playing under his hood as he spoke. “Ghost for Cell Ghoul, present.”

Next to the cloaked leader of the Ghouls sat a black and white zebra stallion, all the color on him concentrated into his piercing orange eyes and the red stripe which ran down his tail and mane. He had an air of exhaustion around him, one which was reflected in his half-lidded eyes, clearly audible even behind his heavy Zebrica accent.. “Kwaheri for Cell Scythe, present.”

The two ponies seated across from him broke off their conversation, realizing the meeting was starting. First to speak was a unicorn stallion with a cool green coat, with blue eyes and a green-striped teal mane. He leaned back in his seat, smirking as he looked to the other cell leaders. “Cherry Bomb for Cell Inferno, present.”

The older, umber-coated earth mare that had been talking to him cleared her throat, brushing a hanging, ashy grey bang back into the short ponytail her mane was tied into. She adjusted her posture, her eyes scanning the room. One was a deep red, the other a milky white, crossed over by an old scar. “Pops for Cell Brimstone, present.”

A relatively young pegasus stallion, his coat a half-faded sky blue and his pale white mane hanging loosely at his shoulders, stepped away from his comrades as he took a seat at the table. He offered a small, polite smile before speaking, his green eyes looking to each of the other cell leaders in turn. “Tumbler Twist for Cell Rapier, present.”

Lupus’s nostrils flared as he looked around. Four of the ten seats at the table remained empty. “Is this everyone?”

The door swung open, clipping the tip of an alarmed Dissero’s tail as it admitted three other ponies. In the lead was a soft yellow earth mare who took energetic strides up to the leaders’ table, her short red-and-pink mane dripping rainwater into the dirt floor. She took a seat at the table almost as if she expected the very furniture itself to fight her for it, her two companions standing at her shoulders. She announced herself in an authoritative tone that would have harbored no argument, which was good, considering that nopony had been arguing yet. “Stone Set for Cell Rook, present.” Her green eyes travelled across the room like angry lions daring anyone to make a move on their territory. “Have we already started?”

“We were just getting to that, actually,” Ghost mused.

Dissero turned to Salvo, keeping his voice low. “What’s up with her?”

“Rook used to be a rogue cell, one of the larger ones,” Salvo whispered back. “Stone Set executed a coup a few months ago, and since then she’s been absorbing other rogue cells, turning them back to the cause. They’re a rowdy bunch, but she keeps them in line.”

Dissero nodded thoughtfully as he turned back to the table. Tumbler Twist was leaning forwards now, a glass lockpick twirling idly between his feathers. “Well, Lupus, what’ve you assembled us for? This month’s meeting isn’t for another two weeks.”

Lupus wasted no time with his response, his forelegs planted firmly on the table. “I have a plan! A way for us to finally make a real strike against the Baron!”

A wave of silent laughter passed around the table, the cell leaders exchanging glances both amused and exasperated. “Another plan, Lupey?” Cherry Bomb sighed. “What is this time? Climb the wall and teleport to Equestria?” Muted chuckles sounded from the edges of the room.

Ghost cleared his throat, speaking over the soft laughter. “My Ghouls have found a weakness in the Baron’s defenses.”

Instantly the room fell silent, the other cell leaders suddenly paying rapt attention. Dissero shifted uncomfortably at the blatant disrespect the others had shown Lupus. Was he viewed as some raving lunatic by the rest of them, throwing bodies away in countless extravagant plans?

“A weakness, eh?” Pops narrowed her eyes, the milky white pupil a sharp contrast against her darker coat. “How? The Baron’s domain has been impenetrable to us, ever since the second purge.”

“It’s the ships,” Ghost explained. There was a dim blue glow from under his cowl, the light reflecting off his eyes as he levitated a dagger onto the table. Dissero stood up taller, noticing the hoofdrawn map of Harmony laid out on the table as the dagger tapped against it. “The smaller ones refuel in the city, at a few of the spire outposts, often while waiting for a pier. With enough ponies we could eliminate the guards, take control of the spire, and then… commandeer a ship.” The dagger floated across the map, its tip coming to rest against one of the seven great towers which surrounded the Baron’s. “There will be less security at the piers and inside the tower. We could strike at the heart of the Baron’s operation.”

Tumbler Twist cocked his head thoughtfully. “Do you have a target in mind?”

Ghost nodded. “The Baron’s Minister of Industry is hosting a party next week, one of many extravagant affairs she plans throughout the year. She doesn’t like having guards near her guests, and believes herself safe in her tower. If we can take her alive, then I can work her for…” He paused, his hornlight reflecting off his teeth as he grinned. “Information.”

“There is a flaw in your plan,” Kwaheri said. “Even if we can take an airship, how will we fly it? We have no pilots or engineers among us.”

“That’s where you’re wrong!” Lupus leapt forwards, practically pouncing on the opportunity to speak. “I have an experienced airship crew at my disposal. This is our chance to strike!”

“Where is this crew of yours?” Stone Set asked curtly, tapping a hoof against the table. “I’m not sending my ponies into a fight depending on some crew I’ve never seen.”

With a nod from Lupus, Salvo raised her voice. “I have the captain right here.”

Dissero stiffened, his eyes widening as all eyes suddenly turned to him. He swallowed, straightening up and doing his best to look like a confident, seasoned airpony.

“Wow, an airship captain, huh?” Cherry Bomb let out a surprised little chuckle. “I guess it’s our lucky day.”

“How do we know he isn’t lying?” Stone Set asked, looking Dissero over. “We wouldn’t know before it was too late.”

“The lie would be his doom as much as ours,” Kwaheri said.

“Unless he’s a spy,” Stone said, turning back to the table.

“A spy, among the Hounds?” Pops let out a light giggle which contrasted harshly with her rough appearance. “Lupus’s never had a spy under his nose more than two days, young lass. Believe me, the Baron’s tried!”

“What’d you call me!?” Stone rose out of her seat, her ears back. There was a shuffling of movement around the room as the assorted rebels all reached for shanks and brandished muskets.

“Take your seat, Stone,” Kwaheri said, raising a calming a hoof. “The meet is not a place for violence. If you wish to challenge, then you will do so once you are off Scythe territory.”

For several moments nopony said anything, Stone’s challenging glare meeting Pop’s nonchalant, half-white gaze.

Ghost cleared his throat, seemingly unfazed by the tension. “I can vouch for the crew. The plan is sound.”

Like that, the moment was gone. The other cell leaders, and their corresponding companions, all relaxed as they returned to the matter at hand. Without opposition, Stone Set was suddenly left posturing and glaring at nothing. Sparing a few more domineering glances towards the edges of the room, she eased herself back into her seat.

“Now that we’ve got that settled…” Lupus muttered before raising his voice, “Who’s with me?”

A far more awkward silence fell over the room, the cell leaders all looking between eachother uncertainly. Tumbler Twist was the first to answer. “I don’t know, Lupus…”

Pops nodded, reluctantly adding, “It does sound very risky.”

Cherry Bomb raised a hoof. “Perhaps we could try something smaller first? A bombing, maybe?”

“We musn’t overstep our bounds,” Kwaheri cautioned, his eyes darkening. “The Baron could call another purge.”

“We need more time to regain our strength,” Stone Set said, shaking her head. “We still haven’t recovered from the last purge...”

Throughout this exchange, Lupus’s stern frown grew ever deeper, his tail flicking back and forth as his ears began to flatten and his eyes squeezed shut. Dissero watched as he dropped a hoof into his coat, no doubt feeling for the reassuring weight of his machete. The conversation slowly ground to a halt as the other cell leader’s that Lupus wasn’t just sitting quietly, but actually growling, a deep, threatening rumble which carried clear across the little shack.

Dissero’s eyes flicked nervously towards Salvo. The mare seemed undisturbed, her face unreadable as always. He glanced around the room, and wondered if Lupus wasn’t beyond starting a fight at a meeting of his own allies.

Finally the growling stopped, and Lupus opened his eyes, revealing a deep pool of pure frustration the likes of which Dissero had never seen in all his life.

“You’re all cowards,” Lupus began, his voice dangerously quiet.

Stone Set shot out of her chair, a sharp retort ready on her lips, but Lupus beat her too it.

“Be quiet, you miserable pup!” he roared. Stone faltered, and Lupus gave her no time to recover, pushing on relentlessly. “You fall into this shithole, train a mob of rabid mutts to follow your command, and you think you have the authority to challenge the rest of us, who’ve been fighting here for years!? To challenge me!?” He was shouting at the top of his lungs now, his lips pulled back, revealing his sharpened teeth. “I’ve spent my whole life in this damned forsaken city! I was born here, and you will sit down and listen to me!”

Dissero blinked, eyes wide. He looked over to Salvo again, and saw a proud little smirk tugging on the corner of the mare’s lips. Stone Set slowly sat back down.

Lupus lowered his voice, forcing the rest of the room to lean in to hear his words. “Do you know what it’s like, to be a foal within these walls? When your parents just don’t come back one day, when the good Baron’s enslavement is finally too much for them?” He spat the last words out as if they had been physically assaulting him, his voice rising once more. “When you have to steal and fight for every scrap of food, because you’re too young to work? Nopony will spare a piece of bread for someone else’s worthless foal! You have to take what you can, whenever you can!”

Dissero’s jaw hung loosely open, his mind racing. He’d seen a few foals in the streets before, but somehow he’d never made the connection, never realized that they might have never seen the world beyond the towers and walls. He leaned over to Salvo, whispering, “Lupus was born in this city?”

She nodded, her voice faint as she whispered back. “Too many foals are.”

Dissero frowned, sensing something else behind the answer, but didn’t push any further. Now that he thought about it, ‘Lupus’ was hardly an Equestrian name, and he’d seen enough of Equestria to know that it wouldn’t even be found in the furthest reaches of the nation.

Then again… neither was ‘Salvo.’

But there was no time to think on it further. Lupus was already speaking again, and Dissero felt his attention inexorably drawn towards the red-painted stallion.

“When I first joined Cell Bloodhound, this city was full of real rebels, of ponies willing to die to get things done, to send a message!” He paused, breathing hard. He fell back down into a normal speaking voice. “And when the last purge came, and the Baron brought his forces down upon us, many of us did die. You couldn’t fathom what it was like, pup, to be forced to hide under the very bodies of your comrades… cells were wiped out overnight, and Cell Bloodhound was almost one of them, would’ve been one of them, if not for me.”

He pounded a hoof against his chest, voice growing gradually louder. “I didn’t give up, I never give up, I’ll never give up until the Baron lies dead at my hooves, and I don’t care what it costs me! As long as this city stands, I will fight!”

Thunder filled the room as the rebels cheered, stomping their hooves in wild applause. Dissero even found himself caught up in the energy of the room, his own hooves joining the stampede as he let out a whoop of his own.

The cell leaders nodded along at their table, grinning and clapping their own hooves together as the applause died down, but Lupus wasn’t done just yet.

“We’ve never had a chance like this before,” Lupus said, locking eyes with the other leaders. “We’ve never been able to hit the Baron where it hurts, up in his own towers. We have that chance now, and we need to seize it before it’s too late! I don’t care if you come with me or not, but the Hounds will make this attack—alone if we have to—and nothing can stop us. We’ve waited long enough.”

“Hmph, you Hounds aren’t exactly known for the kind of precision this operation calls for,” Tumbler Twist said, stroking his chin. A glint of mischief twinkled in his eyes. “Lucky for you, Cell Rapier will be there to provide it.”

“You’ll need gunpowder, and lots of it,” Pops said, closing her eyes as she gave a firm nod. “I’ll have Cell Brimstone begin organizing shipments immediately.”

“Shucks Lupus, you’ve got me all riled up!” Cherry Bomb waved a hoof before himself, his eyes focused on something only he could see. “Imagine! One of those damned towers burning down in the wake of a Cell Inferno bombing! How could I possibly turn that down?”

Kwaheri grimaced, shaking his head as he spoke. “We must wait! Think of what we could lose!”

“Think of what we could gain!” Cherry Bomb shot back. He brought his hooves together before spreading them apart in a mock explosion. “Think of the booms!”

“Kwaheri is right, it’s too risky,” Stone Set said. “Cell Rook won’t be taking part in this raid.”

“Suit yourself,” Ghost said, his knife tracing its way around the map. “You two can leave if you want. As for the rest of us, we have planning to do.”

Stone Set glared at Ghost, but said nothing. She stood up, beckoning to her two companions as she slipped outside.

Kwaheri, meanwhile, simply leaned back in his seat. “I do not support this mission, but Cell Scythe are still rebels. I will remain while you plan.”

The other cell leaders nodded before they turned to the matter at hoof, hunching over the map as they discussed the details of the operation. The other rebels began to chat excitedly amongst themselves, filling the room with an energetic buzz.

Dissero looked to Salvo, the giddy energy which had overcome him during Lupus’s speech being slowly replaced with an anxious apprehension. “What does this mean, Salvo?”

She turned to meet his gaze, her eyes hard and mouth set in a firm line. “It means we need to train harder.” She looked up to the ceiling, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath.

“There’s something big coming.”

Author's Notes:

A relatively slow chapter today, I'd say.

Cherish it while you can. Soon enough you'll find a little breathing time hard to come across.

Chapter XI

The week following the rebel meeting was rather hectic, to say the least.

There were preparations to be made, supplies to be gathered, plans to be reviewed. The cramped underground hide of Cell Bloodhound was both empty of ponies and full of activity all at once, with many of the Hounds out in the city while those who stayed behind busied themselves with the necessary tasks. There was no room to lounge in the armory anymore, as it steadily filled with weapons and armor and rope and everything else Lupus declared was needed. By the end of each night there was no energy left for socializing, the rebels collapsing exhausted in their cubbies, Lupus and Salvo remaining stationed over the map table for an extra hour or two before finally falling asleep themselves.

The rebels were mobilizing.

Dissero found himself on the move often, Salvo sending him across the Inner City to gather supplies and run errands and even just to be visible.

“We’re all relying on you here,” she’d explained on the first day. “The other cells need to see you, and see that you’re trustworthy. Don’t give them any reason to doubt you, or they might back out.”

And then she’d sent him out with a patrol to Cell Brimstone, along with Spindle Silk, Moon Dream, and Ember.

Ember.

The fiery-maned mare certainly lived up to her namesake. Dissero could practically feel her glare boring into the back of his head, her anger smoldering like the glowing coals at the bottom of a fire. He was fully aware that she could hold a grudge for a long, long time, and dreaded the thought of what she might do until the last embers of her anger finally burned out.

It definitely didn’t help that, as part of the bid to paint Dissero as a capable and reliable member of Cell Bloodhound, Salvo had placed him in charge of the little patrol.

So there he was, leading a temperamental unicorn mare with a knack for fire magic to go get some gunpowder.

“Ah, here we are,” Spindle Silk said, coming to a stop before an extremely small little shack that had been hastily squeezed between two homes.

“This is it?” Dissero asked, frowning as he peered around the corner. It barely looked big enough for one pony, let alone a whole cell of rebels.

“They like to keep things underground,” Moon Dream said. “For safety purposes.”

Oh, safety purposes. Dissero couldn’t help but fear that Cell Brimstone’s safety measures were going to be working against them in the near future. He made a furtive glance towards Ember as he knocked on the door, only to discover her staring straight at him. Shit!

After a blissfully brief wait the door swung open, revealing the leader of Cell Brimstone. “Ah, Hounds!” Pops offered up a welcoming smile as she stepped aside, revealing the several holes and chips in her teeth. “Here for powder?”

“That’s right,” Dissero said. He dipped his head in greeting as he stepped inside, seeing that the little shack was nothing more than an entrance for the wide tunnel which sloped down into the ground. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he added, thinking back to Salvo’s advice.

“Bah, spare me.” Pops waved the pleasantry away with a hoof as she started down the tunnel, limping faintly with a hind leg. “If Lupus trusts you, I trust you. Nothing gets past that old Hound! C’mon.”

Dissero beckoned to the rest of his patrol as he followed Pops down the tunnel and into the depths of the hide. Cell Brimstone seemed to be both larger and smaller than Cell Bloodhound at the same time; while the hide was much more extensive than that of the Hounds, there were also far fewer ponies walking about, perhaps not even half as many as made up Cell Bloodhound.

The tunnels here were incredibly neat, the walls crisp and clean. Wooden candleholders lined the walls at regular intervals, and the thresholds between rooms were occupied by actual, full-size metal doors. The ceiling was high enough that even Cleaver would have been able to stand up tall. It hardly felt like a hastily dug out hole in the ground.

Disero wrinkled his nose, frowning. There was a strange scent hanging in the air, though it was just barely too faint to recognize.

Pops continued to speak as they walked, apparently oblivious to the stench, nodding to her cellmates as they passed. “Brimstone is the oldest cell in the city, d’y’know? The most important too, I’d say, considering we supply all the gunpowder!”

“Gunpowder?” Ember asked from the back of the group. “Where do you get gunpowder in here?” It was the first thing Dissero had heard her say in days that wasn’t laced with open aggression, though he secretly worried that the curiosity was hinting at something even more dangerous.

Dissero cocked his head as he suddenly found himself wondering the same thing. Where were the rebels getting their gunpowder? Certainly the Baron wouldn’t supply it, and there couldn’t possibly be enough falling off of airships all the time to provide as much as Dissero had seen.

Pops looked back with her good eye, wearing the knowing smirk of a mare that had just heard the very question she loved to answer. “Good question, lass! And perfect timing, too! Come with me, I’ll show ye.”

She turned, pushing through a sturdy wooden door as the Hounds followed. They passed through two other doors of similar robusticity before coming before a fourth. Dissero looked back, noting the hallway behind them with no less than three doors dividing it.

Despite his time in Gryphos, he didn’t know much about how gunpowder was made. His expertise on the subject went about as far as the barrel of a musket, and even that was iffy. He did know, however, that the process of making gunpowder was dangerously precise. His eyes flicked towards Ember. All these security precautions were making him nervous.

There was also that very peculiar smell in the air, which had grown steadily stronger as they’d gone further down the hallway.

Pops placed a hoof on the final door. “Behold, the secret of our success!”

She pushed it open with a fantastic flourish, and Dissero practically fell over as the powerful scent of urine washed over him. He gasped for air, immediately regretted it, and braced himself against the wall as he gagged. He wrestled with his instincts as the urge to breathe overcame him, failed, and promptly resumed retching as he sucked in another breath.

He was vaguely aware of other ponies gagging and retching around him, trapped in the infinite cycle of gag and gasp.

Something wet and heavy dropped over his muzzle, and suddenly Dissero could breathe again. He blinked the tears away as he straightened up, raising a hoof to hold what he now realized was a damp rag over his nose. He saw Spindle Silk wink at him with smiling eyes, already with a similar piece of damp fabric over her nostrils, as she distributed the makeshift gas masks to Moon Dream and Ember.

Pops, miraculously, was completely unfazed by the powerful smell.

“What the hell is that?” Ember coughed, straightening up as she magically tied her rag around her face.

“Horse piss and manure!” Pops exclaimed, in the way many other ponies Dissero had met in his life might say ‘gold,’ or ‘friendship.’

“What does that have to do with gunpowder?” Moon Dream asked incredulously, his voice muffled by the wet cloth over his muzzle.

“Everything!” Pops grinned, strutting proudly into the chamber. Dissero poked a cautious head inside, eyes widening at the many wooden barrels lined up in neat rows, as the Cell Brimstone leader continued to talk. “You shit in a barrel with a drain and filter at the bottom, then fill it with piss and top it off with some rain water. Come back in ten months and you’ll have saltpeter, which you mix with sulfur. Add a little magic and bang, gunpowder!”

Dissero couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You mean—?”

“That’s right!” Pops cut him off. “Cell Brimstone has been collecting piss and shit in barrels ever since Great-Great-Pops was tossed into this city, providing gunpowder for any pony that wanted to fight back.” She laughed. “I’m sure the good Baron wishes that particular fireworks pony never fell into this city!”

“How can you stand the smell?” Ember asked, brow furrowed.

Pops smirked, tapping her muzzle with a hoof. “I lost my smell along with my eye, when my pops trained me. Now, how about we go grab your powder?”

There was more to the preparations than the mere gathering of supplies, of course.

The Hounds trained daily, practicing their musket aim on patchy fabric guards stuffed with pegasus feather, and sparring against eachother with short wooden sticks. While the more experienced rebels were left to their own devices, the newer Hounds were kept under the stern tutelage of Salvo.

She paced before her assembled trainees, Dissero, his crew, and Moon Dream, as she spoke. “The Ghouls say that the Baron doesn’t use the city guards in his towers. If things get violent you’ll be facing trained fighters that can think on their hooves and adapt quickly. Our usual strategy isn’t going to work, you need to know how to fight in close quarters.”

She stopped, turning to face her trainees. “We’ll begin with some practice sparring, so I have an idea of where you are. Any volunteers to go first?”

Ember immediately raised a hoof, nostrils flaring. Dissero, Silver, and Cleaver all exchanged glances before grabbing the fiery mare’s hoof and stepping back. Cleaver pulled Ember back with them, while Silver tugged Dream back by the tail. The young pegasus was momentarily surprised by the pull, but otherwise didn’t protest. They all looked away, avoiding Salvo’s gaze.

Stormslider closed her eyes, releasing an exasperated sigh as she was left alone, everyone else having moved back but her.

A small, amused grin graced Salvo’s face. “Stormslider it is, then. Stand here, right. Do you have any experience?”

Storm shrugged nonchalantly. “Not too much.” Her hooves slid through the dirt as she subtly repositioned herself, her wings flaring as she lowered herself to the ground.

Dissero smirked as he exchanged glances with the rest of his crew. He’d gone to the Royal Aerial Academy along with Silver and Storm, and she had always been the most studious of them. She’d also taken part in several clubs and electives, her favorite of which had been the Academy’s martial arts club. By the time she’d graduated, she had earned a first degree black feather in the old pegasus art of Krav Pega. He looked over to the still confused Moon Dream, winking conspiratorially.

Salvo cocked her head slightly as she saw Storm’s posture, falling into her own ready stance. “Alright, then. Hit me.”

Dissero was not a martial artist of any kind himself, but he had learned some things through Stormslider. He knew that Krav Pega was an overwhelmingly vertical style, which involved heavy use of the wings to surprise the enemy and attack quickly from multiple angles. It was exhilarating to watch and, if the other practitioners he met during at his time at the Academy were any indication, even more so to use. It was also very hard for unflighted ponies to keep track of.

Still, he did his best.

Stormslider flapped her wings, kicking up a small maelstrom of dust as she shot forwards with one hoof extended. Salvo ducked under the strike, twisting as she bucked straight up.

But Storm wasn’t there. With the second flap of her wings she had abruptly canceled her forwards momentum, gritting her teeth as she pulled a tight, twisting backflip. She touched down briefly in front of Salvo before pushing off with her forelegs, releasing a powerful buck.

Salvo’s eyes narrowed as she dropped to the side, rolling around the kick before popping up once more. She let loose a vicious shout as she charged, aiming to tackle her opponent.

Storm flapped her wings a third time, rising up over the mare without a sound. Salvo had anticipated this, and was already soaring through the air, leaping up to grab her opponent, but again Storm danced away. With the fourth flap of her wings she pushed herself back to the ground, ducking low before bucking upwards.

Salvo tucked her body into a tight roll, narrowly avoiding the attack before landing, skidding across the dirt, her tail flicking as the two mares stared eachother down.

Dissero, Silver, and Cleaver all clapped their hooves together, Moon Dream joining in as Ember rolled her eyes.

“Show her how it’s done, Stormy!” Silver cheered.

Again the two mares charged for eachother, one by hoof and one by wing. Salvo twisted as if to buck, quickly revealing the move as a feint once Storm went to soar over her. Salvo planted all four legs on the ground, coiling her body like a spring before pouncing straight upwards. Storm’s eyes widened as she flapped one wing, rolling sharply to the side and twisting mid-air to counter with a swift kick.

Salvo grunted as she deflected the blow with a foreleg, snapping her hooves out to grab the offending leg. She pulled the leg tight to her chest, dropping heavily to the ground, and pulling Storm with her.

“Oof!” A cloud of dust was kicked up as Salvo’s back struck the dirt, the mare twisting her body to avoid the kicks of Storm’s other hind leg. The pegasus flapped her wings wildly, but was unable to escape the more experienced rebel’s iron grip, instead stuck fluttering in the air just above her.

Salvo roared as, pulling Storm’s leg in even closer to her core, she pushed off with her hind legs and rolled backwards. Storm let out a startled yelp as she was yanked completely down to the ground, Salvo’s back hooves hooking around her outstretched wings.

When the dust finally settled, Storm was stuck on her back, her wings pinned by Salvo’s back hooves while her own hind legs were held firmly under Salvo’s forehooves. The pegasus struggled to break free, beating against Salvo’s back weakly with her free fore hooves, but to no avail. With a quick adjustment of her body, Salvo stretched one hind leg to pin down Storm’s neck while the other continued to hold down her wings.

The two mares were both breathing hard, Stormslider barely able to move at all. After several seconds, Salvo regained her breath enough to speak.

“You’re dead.”

Stormslider continued to struggle briefly before giving up, her free legs falling into the dirt around her with a heavy sigh.

Salvo flicked her tail again as she stepped off of the pinned mare, allowing her back to her hooves. “You said you had no experience.”

Storm rubbed her neck with a hoof as she climbed off the ground, stretching her wings. The dirt clung persistently to her vivid red-and-blue mane, staining it brown even after she shook most of it off. “And I don’t, beyond the dojo.”

Salvo nodded, turning to her other trainees. All but Cleaver watched with wide eyes, Dissero and Silver frozen mid-clap. Ember and Moon Dream were both seated back on their haunches with open mouths. Neither one had seen Storm spar before.

“Now,” Salvo began, her breathing beginning to return to its regular pace. “Who’s next?”

“Agh, it still hurts!”

Dissero nodded solemnly, grimacing as he felt his own aches and bruises. “She really… didn’t hold back.”

Moon Dream let out a quiet chuckle. “She never does.”

The two of them were perched atop a relatively tall building, a warehouse, leaning lazily against its gently sloped roof. A thin fabric, dyed black, was draped around them, supported by a trio of rusty poles that Dissero levitated with his magic. The sun had set several hours ago, and now it was only Dissero’s own hornlight which illuminated the small space beneath the makeshift tarp.

He peered over Moon Dream’s shoulder, at the paper nestled between his hooves. “Are you almost done?”

Dream cocked his head, one ear flicking as he traced a piece of charcoal over the parchment. “Not really.”

Dissero nodded, causing the shadows to dance under the tarp, as he looked between the charcoal sketch and the view before him. The fabric was thin enough that one could see through when close enough, allowing the two stallions to see the spire of black stone which rose across the street. It was nearly double the height of the warehouse, its red-streaked surface glistening with the rain. A single narrow path was carved into its side, winding up all the way to the top, where a squat concrete tower rested. Eight relatively thin skypiers jutted out from the tower, small airships coming and going periodically.

It was the tower which the rebels would be taking over in roughly thirty hours, a simple refueling station. Lupus had sent the two stallions, along with a visiting Ghoul, to sketch it from every angle and take note of the guard’s patrols. This latter task belonged to Dissero, and every time an airship came or went or a guard made a round of the spire, he would make note of it with the parchment and quill levitated before him.

The job of drawing the spire fell to Moon Dream, who was apparently a skilled artist. Looking between his charcoal sketch and reality, Dissero was constantly surprised by just how much information the young pegasus could put into his drawings. Every little detail was included, from the number of crenellations on top of the tower to the small holes which burrowed into the sides of the spire.

Their Ghoul companion had been more or less silent the entire time, speaking only to introduce himself as “Thunder Rush” and to caution them to avoid being seen at all costs. He had supplied the tarp and poles, and now sat stoically on the very edge of the roof, protected from the rain only by his dark cloak.

Dissero had been incredibly nervous during the trek through the city. He wasn’t sure how much he trusted anyone named “Thunder Rush” to stay hidden.

But nothing had gone wrong so far, and the small scout team had already relocated twice to get different angles. Everything was going fine. So fine, in fact, that Dissero was starting to wish something would happen.

A sickening ‘crack!’ rang through the night, shortly followed by a shrill scream of pain, as the injured mare’s spine was snapped in two.

“Rainy!”

Dissero flinched back at the sudden memory, squeezing his eyes shut as he pushed away the image of Zastaflash’s mangled corpse. He took a few deep breaths, calming his racing heart, before opening his eyes again. No, he decided. I’ll be fine with a little boredom.

He shifted his stance, looking over Dream’s shoulder again in search of something to occupy his mind. “You’re a pretty good artist.”

Dream’s eyes briefly left the paper as he offered a little smile. “Thanks.”

Several minutes passed with nothing but the falling rain and scratching of charcoal to fill the void. An airship came in to dock at the tower, a few pegasi flying out to help moor it to the skypier, and Dissero made a mark on his parchment. He squinted up towards the sky, doing his best to assess the time by what little of the stars he could see before jotting down a rough guess.

“Were you always that good?” he asked.

Dream nodded, tilting his head as he applied some shading. “Well, I wasn’t always this good, but I’ve always had a knack for art. I wasn’t really that into it at first—” He adjusted the parchment, glancing up to the spire. “—But then one day during arts and crafts I just, y’know, got it. I guess I was old enough.” He looked back to the swirling paintbrush emblazoned on his flank, the brush trailing a crescent of white paint. “Not a very interesting cutie mark story, sorry.”

“Heh, not everyone has a dramatic cutie mark story, Dream,” Dissero said, making another mark on his parchment as the previously docked airship cast off.

Dream hummed thoughtfully, setting his incomplete sketch aside to stretch his cramped legs and wings. “How’d you get yours?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Dissero’s lips as he recalled the memory. “Silver and I took a carriage to the wrong stop, had no idea where we were. We were both totally lost, and he was worried we’d never make it home but, me? I thought it was fun, and it didn’t take long for me to find somewhere familiar and gain my bearings. I wasn’t ready to go home yet, though, and we spent the whole day just exploring the city.” He looked back to his own cutie mark, the rolled up scroll tied with a curling red ribbon. “I didn’t even notice my mark until I got home.” And I had plenty of time to look at it after that, being grounded for a month…

Dream arched a brow, frowning down at his sketch. “So… what’s your talent?”

“Cartography,” Dissero said, his ears drooping slightly as he thought back to the old map that he’d carried with him everywhere. “I know how to find my way around.”

The young pegasus nodded, inspecting his drawing before rolling up and slipping it into the sack at his side. He pulled the drawstring shut with a wing as he slung it over his back. “I’m done here, let’s get one more.”

“Right.” Dissero straightened up, relishing the sensation of stretching his legs once more, and grabbed one of the floating poles with a hoof. Dream grabbed the other two with his wings, allowing the tarp to flutter to the floor. Together the two stallions folded it up before stashing it in Dissero’s bag.

Dissero turned to Thunder Rush, squinting as he struggled to pick out his dark shape in the rainy night. He raised a hoof to his mouth, calling to the Ghoul with a cautious whisper. “Thunder!”

Thunder Rush turned his head, backing away from the ledge before standing up. “Flash. Are you two done yet?”

“Just one more spot,” Dream whispered. He scanned the night, pointing towards another building a few roofs away. “There.”

Thunder nodded, stepping quietly across the roof. He spread his wings and dropped into an adjacent alley without a sound, falling out of sight. He would scout the path first. Stealth was crucial.

This left Dissero and Moon Dream alone, the two stallions craning their necks to look up at the barely visible crest of the spire.

After several seconds Dream looked away, turning to Dissero. “You ever wonder if there’re ponies out there, looking for us?” he asked, his voice quiet. “Wondering where we are?”

Dissero blinked, taken aback by the question. Is there? Almost everyone who’d ever been important to him were on his crew, and those who weren’t were either his enemies or… or his parents. As if they’d want to see me again. He suddenly realized that Dream was looking to him expectantly, and wiped the bitter frown off his face. “Don’t worry Dream, we’ll get out of here. You’ll see them again.”

Dream looked down to his hooves, his ears drooping. “Yeah… you’re probably right.” His words sounded empty and weak; it was obvious that he didn’t really believe them.

Dissero couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the young pegasus, watching the way his shoulders slumped and his wings were curled tightly against his body. He looked barely old enough to have left his parents’ care, and here he was, fighting for freedom as his friends died around him.

Could I really leave him behind, if it meant I could lead my crew out of this place? He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t make any connections, that he’d keep the rebels at a stern distance, little more than a means towards the ends of his crew’s own freedom. But right then, as he sat in the rain with the dark-coated pegasus with danger on the horizon, Dissero was unsure if he could really bring himself to abandon him in the horrid city.

“Thunder.”

Dissero’s ears shot up in alarm, and he turned to see Thunder Flash perched on the roof right next to him, opposite of Dream. For some reason the Ghoul had been saying ‘thunder’ and ‘flash’ all night, usually right after someone called his name or he rejoined the party after scouting a position. Dissero shook his head as he allowed his racing heart some time to slow down. Ghouls are wierd. “Is the path clear?”

Thunder Flash nodded once, dropping a length of rope over the ledge and bracing his hooves. Dissero latched on to the rope as he slid down into the alley, Dream gliding quietly down alongside him.

Thunder began to roll the rope back up, leaving the two Hounds to wait patiently in the shadow of the alley. Dissero looked to Dream and gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

“Everything’ll turn out alright, Dream. You’ll see.”

Dream took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I… sure hope so.”

Thunder Flash alighted quietly in the alley, beckoning with a nod of his head. Together the three rebels slipped through the city, their ears swiveling as they listened for the distinct sound of ringing chainmail. Dissero brought up the rear, a heavy frown on his face as he thought.

If everything went according to plan, then soon he’d be at the helm of a working airship once more. He doubted that an airship suddenly diverting from its schedule and racing for the walls would go unnoticed but… what if he did find an opportunity to escape.

He sighed, shaking the thoughts away as he focused on the task at hoof.

I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

Author's Notes:

Imagine my surprise when, while looking into how the rebels could possibly come across gunpowder, my co-author discovered that you could make saltpeter with horse piss and manure.