“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.