Green Pastures, Cloak’s Front Porch, Equestria
50 Years After the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

The group of young foals was silent for a long time. Cloak sat calmly in his chair, rocking back and forth steadily, waiting for one of them to voice their thoughts. Finally, Kingfisher spoke up.

“Why was Rat so upset?” asked Kingfisher. “Didn’t he train for this?”

“It was his first kill,” replied Cloak simply.

“But he spent years preparing for it!” exclaimed Flare Glider.

“Learning the mechanics of killing and actually killing are two very different things,” explained Cloak sternly. “Normal ponies never find it easy to kill. When you choose to take a life, you are removing a unique soul from this world, one that had hopes, dreams, fears, friends, and family. The first kill I ever made was out of desperation in the burnt out ruins of my home, and I had nightmares for weeks after.”

“So what happened next?” asked Cold Snap.

“Well, you can imagine how broken Rat would be after discovering a perceived fault that would put his adopted family at risk,” replied Cloak. “He did the one thing he felt he needed to do: fix it.”

The Cirrus, Training Room 58, Equestria
11 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War (2 Hours After Previous Mission)

Rat moved through the course again, frustration building in his veins. He’d gone here shortly after he’d finished throwing up in the locker room and cleaned himself up. He found that his work was getting sloppy; his “kills” were incomplete, and he was getting hit by the bags. He’d lost count of how many times he’d run this course, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to get it right.

In his mind’s eye, all Rat could see was the face of the guard he killed. The look of fear as Rat’s hoof snapped the neck was etched onto the face of each dummy, making Rat sick to his stomach. Shattering wood turned to snapping bone, and screams of orphaned foals echoed in his ears. His heartbeat raced faster with each strike. He could feel it pulsing behind his eyes, pounding and pounding as his pulse raced faster and faster. Rat fell to the ground as a bag struck him in the wing. He struggled to stand up to run the course again, when through the haze of his mind-

“You alright, kid?” asked a familiar voice.

Rat looked up and saw the grizzled face of Razor, his expression tinged with concern. Out of all the older Shadowbolts besides Descent, Razor was probably Rat’s favorite to talk to. However, Rat was hardly in the mood to talk, even if the noise in his mind has ceased. The young stallion moved over to one of the hanging punching bags, striking it repeatedly. Razor said nothing, standing and watching Rat calmly. Eventually, the blows of Rat’s hooves slowed as exhaustion took its toll, eventually leading to Rat collapsing in frustration, fighting to keep his tears from showing.

“So, do you wanna tell me what’s bothering you?” asked Razor.

“...I’m a failure,” mumbled Rat, looking away from Razor.

“What was that?” asked Razor.

“I’m a damn failure, alright!” shouted Rat, tears in his eyes. “I’m not strong enough to kill! I’m putting you all at risk by going out there, so you should snap my neck and end it!”

Razor was silent only a moment before he spoke up again.

“What happened?” asked the older stallion.

And so Rat explained how his very first mission had gone, trying to keep his voice level. Razor listened in silence, his expression remaining calm throughout the entire story. Eventually, Rat’s tears of frustration managed to break through. As he concluded, Rat tried to regain his composure. The only sounds in the training room were those of choked sobs and the gentle groan of the Cirrus. Finally, Razor spoke up, breaking the agonizing silence.

“I’m not sure I understand,” began Razor. “Where exactly did you fail?”

Rat stared at the older stallion in shock. It made no sense whatsoever. Everything he’d been taught told him that the answer should have been obvious.

“The kill!” exclaimed Rat. “I got upset by one kill! I couldn’t shake it off! I’m still messed up over it!”

“So?” asked Razor. “Who the hell said killing was easy?”

Rat found that he could not respond to this. The one stallion who had told a ten year old colt that he intended to kill him if he failed a test was now telling him that it was okay to fail the group? Rat’s jaw moved noiselessly as he sat in shock.

“Look, Rat,” began Razor, “I’ve been a Shadowbolt for a real long time now, and I’ve seen recruits come and go all throughout that time. You know one thing I found that held fairly constant for all of them?”

Rat merely looked on in shock and confusion. Razor continued.

“Almost all of them were deeply troubled by their first kill on the job,” answered Razor. “The only ones who weren't had either killed before or were completely insane. The insane ones usually never lasted long. So you should be glad that you are feeling this way right now.”

“But how do I move on?” asked Rat in frustration. “How do I keep my brothers and sisters safe if I can’t bring myself to take an innocent pony’s’ life?”

“I can’t speak for every case, since every life taken is different,” replied Razor, “but I can say this: While that guard might have been an honest stallion, he was certainly not an innocent bystander. He chose his job freely, knowing the risks that were involved. Had he needed to, he’d have used lethal force to take you down without a second thought. Was it unfortunate that he died? Yes, absolutely. Was it necessary? Yes.”

Rat sighed. Everything Razor was saying made sense. On a certain level, he felt as though he already knew all of it. It still didn’t help the guilt he felt.

“I just wish I knew what happened to that guard’s family,” commented Rat.

Razor glanced down at Rat with a curious expression.

“Descent never taught you about our Cleaner, did he?” asked Razor.

“Our what?” replied Rat, utterly confused.

Razor smiled enigmatically.

“Follow me,” replied the old stallion with a smile.

The Cirrus, Lower Decks, Equestria
11 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Rat glanced around in confusion. This was a much lower part of the ship than he’d seen previously. The walls had several small openings in the side leading to the outside hull, to which Rat could not discern a purpose to. It appeared as though these holes were hastily added as a retrofit for some purpose, and their shape was even more puzzling, forming three overlapping circles. The largest of these circles was no bigger than a grapefruit, placed between two smaller ones.

Suddenly, a flash of silver blurred across Rat’s vision from one of the openings. He yelped, falling backward. Razor chuckled, but said nothing. Floating in front of them was a small metal sphere with two disk-like appendages. Inside the disk-like wings, fan blades whirred almost in complete silence. A single camera lens was centered in the lower hemisphere of the strange device, which floated down the hall to an open hatch. Rat turned to Razor in shock.

“What in the name of Tartarus was that?!” asked Rat.

“One of the behind the scenes ‘helpers’ I told you about,” chuckled Razor. “You’ll see in a minute.”

The two Shadowbolts moved into the larger room at the center of the ship, following where that… thing, whatever it was, had gone. Rat’s jaw dropped as he looked up and saw hundreds of the strange metal devices flying about, taking off and landing in small leather slings that looked like high-chairs for foals. A large partitioned area, presumably a workshop of some type, sat at the center of the room, where the sounds of machines and the occasional curse from a stallion could be heard. On the other end of the room, a large cork board and several filing cabinets were arranged haphazardly around a desk to create some semblance of a working space. As the two Shadowbolts walked toward the workshop, a voice rang out from inside.

“NOBODY MOVE!” bellowed the voice inside the workshop. “DON’T. EVEN. EFFING. SNEEZE.”

Rat and Razor did as they were told. Rat noted that Razor was smiling even while rolling his eyes. The only warning that Rat got of what followed was the sound of someone sneezing inside the workshop. Suddenly, a large burst of flame and dust billowed from the workshop door. Several of the small clockwork devices flew into the workshop, carrying mounted fire extinguishers to douse the flames.

Out of the chaos and smoke, a light grey pegasus stallion emerged covered in soot and slightly smoking. Beneath the ash, the stallion’s jet black mane stuck out in all directions beneath the strange hat he wore, which appeared to be made of foil. The stallion coughed and wheezed as he stumbled forward to the desk outside the workshop, taking a seat and beginning to type at the typewriter.

“Note to self,” muttered the stallion as he typed. “Use greater care in checking gas lines when testing hybrid drone designs.”

“Blow up another generator, Hoxton?” asked Razor.

“No, it was just a methane tank on one of my newest Hummingbird designs,” replied Hoxton, without looking up. “Working on adapting methane booster engines to give them a bit of added range, and I missed a frayed wire. Who’s the whelp?”

“Hoxton, this is Rat, Descent’s charge,” introduced Razor. “Rat, this is Hoxton.”

“So, you’re the little orphan that the old Stone Wall took a shine to,” said Hoxton, looking up at Rat with a grin. “Heard a bit about you from little Clover, bless her dear sweet heart. You’re not exactly the scrawny little street urchin she described, but I suppose a few years under that hard-ass’s hoof will do that to ya.”

Rat blinked several times, stunned at how calmly everyone was taking the previous explosion.

“What do you do here?” asked Rat.

“Straight to the point, eh?” noted Hoxton. “Glad to see that. Well, I’d say that I’m the Cleaner of the Shadowbolts.”

“I’m guessing that’s a euphemism for something,” observed Rat.

“That it is,” confirmed Hoxton. “Basically, my job is tying up ‘loose ends’ after a mission goes sideways and you need to kill.”

“I thought killing all the witnesses handled that aspect of the job,” replied Rat.

“YES!” yelled Hoxton suddenly before continuing normally, causing Rat to jump. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? And that’s precisely what my predecessor thought, but the truth is far more complex! Sure, it works for common criminals and private security firms that want to play things close to the vest, but what about the honest ponies of Equestria?”

Rat’s gut flipped slightly at the mention of innocent lives. Hoxton, however, didn’t seem to notice the change in the younger stallion.

“Ponies have friends, families, and coworkers that they come into contact with, which forms a veritable web of connections to society,” continued Hoxton. “Every pony that is suddenly removed from public life breaks these connections. If these broken connections are not dealt with properly, the web is disrupted, leading to all kinds of problematic questions.”

“Questions that could expose us permanently?” guessed Rat, managing to keep his shock and revulsion concealed. .

Hoxton nodded. “Killing everyone that asks too many questions will lead to far too many bodies and more questions. Eventually, the Princess herself is bound to take notice of things,” replied the stallion. “This is a scenario that we wish to avoid at all costs, for obvious reasons.”

“So how do you tie up loose ends?” asked Rat.

“There’s the tricky bit,” grinned Hoxton. “In order to do so convincingly, I need to plant evidence that can be used to reasonably explain away a sudden disappearance. This is supposed to be an emergency measure, when you meatheads out in the field really screw something up, since there’s only one of me and countless missions. Usually, I’ll send a camouflaged Hummingbird along to give me a bit of early warning, but the proper procedure is that a mission leader reports to me if a complication arises.”

“Are those the metal spheres flying around?” asked Rat.

“My pride and joy,” replied Hoxton with smile of unadulterated pride. “Each one capable of flying a hundred miles on a single charge, and smart enough to notify me of any developments in the field. And the best part is they are undetectable by magic.”

“How is that possible?” asked Rat. “Shouldn’t the control enchantments give off residual magical energy?”

“There’s the catch!” replied Hoxton with gusto. “They have absolutely no enchantments or spellwork laced into them whatsoever!”

“Then how do you control them?” asked Rat, somewhat skeptical.

“Well, it uses radio waves to-” began Hoxton, before Razor smacked him in the back of the head. “Sorry, went off on a bit of a tangent there. Point is there’s no magic in these. They gather the facts, with which I can work with our auxiliary associates to provide a convincing cover-up!”

“While I’m sure that every explanation you could give for the next hour would not be wasted on Rat, we had a more specific purpose,” interjected Razor.

“Right, no worries,” responded Hoxton. “What did you come down to the Pit for?”

“Rat wanted to know what cover story you provided for the kill on his last mission,” explained Razor. “Also, he wanted to know more about the stallion he killed: Family, friends, and all that.”

“Not a problem,” replied Hoxton. “Must say that was a right easy piece of work to cover up, what with how smooth the rest of the plan went and the cover story you already put in place. Had to say that I wasn’t looking forward to the damage control on this when I first saw the mission roster, what with all the bodies I thought you'd be making."

“And the guard?” asked Rat, hesitant to hear the answer.

“Easiest cleanup I’ve had all month,” answered Hoxton. “Guy was a loner, so no friends or spouses, and all of his immediate family have passed on already. Also turns out he had an aneurism in his head that was going to burst in at most a day, so he wouldn’t have been able tell anyone even if he got away.”

Rat didn’t know how to feel about that. He slumped over into a nearby chair, utterly drained. Hoxton finally seemed to pick up on the fact that this was not a visit out of idle curiosity. The light grey stallion moved to sit next to the troubled Shadowbolt.

“Look, I know this life isn’t easy, and I gotta say that I’d never have chosen it if I’d had another option,” began Hoxton. “Hell, I had to leave my best friend behind wondering where I’d gone. He’s the reason that I wear this hat.”

“I thought it was to keep the Princess from reading your mind,” snickered Rat humorlessly.

“Unsolved certainly thought so, but I mostly wore it to humor him,” admitted Hoxton with a sheepish grin. “There are days where I miss that crazy bastard, but then I remember why my work here is important, and why I stay on in this damned job.”

“Why is that?” asked Rat.

“So that no pony knows the pain of unanswered questions when friends and family disappear,” replied Hoxton earnestly. “They may all be lies, but they provide closure that the truth never could. And I try my hardest to make them kinder as well.”

“Did you leave anyone else behind?” asked Rat.

Hoxton’s face darkened at this. “None that would care if I disappeared,” spat the older stallion bitterly.

Rat considered asking further, but then thought better of it. “Thank you for your time,” replied Rat, getting to his hooves.

Hoxton grinned again. “I get the feeling that you and I are going to work well with each other,” replied the older stallion. “Let me know if you ever need any custom gear, and I’ll see what I have lying around.”

Rat nodded with a small smile before turning away with Razor, leaving the one that so many of his peers viewed as insane to return to his work. The two Shadowbolts made their way back to the upper decks. After a time, Razor finally spoke up, turning to the younger stallion.

“Feeling better?” asked Razor.

“Much,” replied Rat. “I just don’t understand one thing.”

“What would that be?” inquired the older stallion.

“Why didn’t Descent talk to me about any of this?” asked Rat.

Razor sighed heavily before answering. “No clue, son,” admitted Razor. “Unfortunately, Descent was one of those unique cases that didn’t fit into any of the categories that I mentioned earlier. He killed and fought with the same cold rage back then as he does now. If it were any of the others, I’d say that they didn’t even consider that you’d feel that way after your first kill, but I know that bastard pretty well. He must have had something else in mind.”

Rat nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Razor,” began Rat. “I’m not sure I’d have sorted through that well on my own.”

Razor patted the younger stallion on the back. “Take care of yourself, kid,” sighed Razor as he walked away.

The Cirrus, Top Deck, Equestria
11 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War (6 Hours After Previous Mission)

Rat stared out across the horizon, watching the setting sun turn the sky to flame. Today had given him quite a bit to consider about his new life. He briefly wondered how the Princess would react if she knew what dark deeds happened beneath her sun and moon. Thinking about it further, he realized that would not end well for either side. A slight creaking signaled the approach of a comrade, but Rat did not look back. A familiar voice reached his ears.

“You’ve had a rough day,” stated Descent simply.

“I had a feeling you’d notice,” replied Rat calmly.

“I didn’t,” replied Descent. “Razor told me.”

“I’m guessing you’re disappointed in me,” stated Rat, after a long pause.

“On the contrary,” answered Descent. “I think you did quite well.”

Rat finally turned to face Descent, shock and confusion evident on his face. “How?” asked Rat. “I don’t have the same killing drive that you all have! How is that a good thing?!”

“You didn’t allow your inner turmoil to keep you from finishing the mission,” explained Descent. “You recognized your problem, and worked to correct it.”

Rat found that he couldn’t respond to that, so he remained silent. Mentor and student stared out at the field of orange spread across the clouds, watching as they slowly turned to red. Finally, Rat spoke the question that was on his mind ever since he’d parted ways with Razor.

“What was your first kill like?” asked Rat, continuing to stare out at the clouds.

“Nothing like yours, if that’s what you’re asking,” replied Descent wryly. “Make no mistake, I have had doubts about my actions in the past, but I grew up in a much more violent world than you did.”

“What doubts have you had?” asked Rat.

“Nothing that concerns you or the Shadowbolts,” replied Descent firmly.

Silence resumed. The wind was surprisingly calm for this altitude. Rat watched as the now crimson orb slowly sank below the horizon.

“I’m not a killer, you know,” stated Rat. “I’ll kill to protect my brothers and sisters, but I will not take any more lives than I have to.”

“Perhaps that is a good thing,” replied Descent calmly.

“How is my weakness a good thing?” asked Rat.

“Why do you use a dagger?” asked Descent. “Why not use a sword or an axe?”

Rat stared at Descent as though the stallion had suggested that Griffons were cute and cuddly creatures. He tried to respond, but found the question to be so absurd that he found himself unable to speak. Taking advantage of the young stallion’s silence, Descent continued.

“A sword has greater reach and strength than a dagger while remaining just as sharp, if not sharper,” elaborated Descent. “So why use a dagger at all?”

“A sword would be absolutely useless to me,” explained Rat. “A sword is far too large to use when picking locks, and it would just get in the way when trying to sneak through a hostile location. Not only that, but how the hell are you going to hide a sword in a crowded marketplace? The brief answer is that you won’t. And extra reach for me means greater room for them to maneuver, meaning there’s a greater risk that I will fail to make a clean kill.”

“So then there are situations when one tool does not solve all problems?” countered Descent.

Understanding suddenly filled Rat’s eyes as Descent continued.

“You are one of our most precise assets, if not the most precise,” explained Descent. “You enable us to accomplish tasks that brute force never could, and even leave without a trace. Frankly, if today is any indication of your potential, I’d say it doesn’t matter if that ability is derived from compassion or efficiency. As long as you put your wingmates first and keep to the Code, you are more than worthy of wearing that uniform.”

Rat said nothing, but had visibly improved from when Descent first approached. Nothing more really needed to be said. Together, mentor and student watched as the moon rose, knowing that the next day would bring another contract to survive and get their brothers and sisters out alive. For now, however, the Cirrus hummed softly beneath the gaze of the Mare in the Moon.

To be continued...

Author's Notes:

And after far too long, another chapter emerges.

To those of you who have read Sylvian's work, you might notice a certain conspiracy theorist mentioned briefly this chapter. For those that haven't, I'd recommend reading this.
Thanks again, Syl, for letting me borrow Unsolved.

Anyhow, next chapter might be delayed until mid-December due to finals and things getting in the way.