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

The next day passed without incident for Cloak. He’d spent many hours out on the porch the night before, flipping through his album, remembering good times and bad. The faces he saw in the faded photographs were ones that he had not seen in decades, some of them not since the end of the war and some for even longer. There were many names and faces that Cloak didn’t know what ended up becoming of them, but there were more than a few that Cloak did know the final fate of, much to his regret. Strangely enough, it was the happy memories that made Cloak cry more than the tragic ones.

Cloak sighed, taking a deep draught of his glass of lemonade. The young ones would be showing up any moment now. He needed to regain his composure, otherwise there would be no way to hide the eventual fates of the Rat Pack and their allies. As he tucked the album away, Cloak could hear the distinctive sound of young hooves on the porch step, signalling the arrival of Cold Snap and his friends.

“Hey kids,” greeted Cloak, not looking up as he tried to summon up enough composure to begin his story again. “You’re all here early. I hope you aren’t cutting class.”

“Don’t worry about that, Gramps,” snarked a voice Cloak had not heard in decades. “Being a school board member and the mother of the teacher in question gives me quite a bit of influence, and how could I back down after I heard you’ve been talking smack about me?”

At this, Cloak froze in shock as he looked up, almost not believing what his ears heard. On his front porch stood a living legend in Equestrian history, a world-renowned author, and friend to the Rat Pack. Daring Do had somehow managed to age with grace and dignity. Despite bearing very distinct lines, her face still conveyed the same strength and confidence that Cloak had seen when he first met her. Her mane, now liberally streaked with silver, was pulled into a neat bun. While Daring was wearing her distinctive vest, now worn down and liberally patched up, her signature pith helmet was nowhere in sight. Dagger walked out onto the porch, grinning at the sight of the old mare.

“Well, look who finally crawled her way out of her tomb,” snarked Dagger. “I’ll bet the ink on your adventurer card is probably dried by now.”

“Dried and faded from use, more like,” quipped Daring. “I’m surprised at you. I expected harsher verbal abuse than that from your sharp tongue. Have the past few decades dulled your edge, Dagger?”

“Not a chance, but we don’t want to upset the little foals, now do we?” retorted Dagger, her grin widening.

The two mares stood still for a moment, grinning at each other, before embracing in a brief, friendly hug. Cloak couldn’t help but laugh in shock at what he was seeing.

“Good to see you, ya old nag,” chortled Dagger. “I see you finally lost the soup bowl you called a hat.”

“You can blame Leaf for that one,” muttered Daring petulantly. “It’s currently behind a glass case in my office with a glass-break alarm on it.”

“My brother and I could probably lift that without leaving a smudge back in the old days, but those days are behind us, I’m afraid,” sighed Dagger.

“Sorry for falling out of touch these past few years,” apologized Daring.

“Don’t be,” sighed Dagger with a smile. “You of all ponies should know that couldn’t have been helped, what with the aftershock of the War, especially Canterlot.”

“Still, what happened to you all wasn’t fair,” murmured Daring. “You gave just as much as the rest of us, and they had the nerve to-”

“Oi!” yelped Cloak in irritation. “Don’t be spoiling my story here, Professor Crypt Keeper!”

“Relax, Old Timer,” laughed Daring. “As an author, I know just how important it is to set the stage properly for your audience.”

“So what happened to Rat and his crew after the Jailbreak Job?” asked Kingfisher.

“Well, after that job, we entered what I like to call the ‘Golden Age’,” replied Cloak, reminiscing. “We were ‘The Rat Pack’: we moved in the shadows without a single civilian casualty with a flawless success rate.”

“Well, almost flawless,” added Dagger.

“What are you-” began Cloak, before realization flashed in his eyes. “Oh! I forgot about that part of the job!”

“What do you mean, sir?” asked one of the other foals. “What part of what job?”

“Well, I’m sure those of you here when I told my story remember when I said that the rest of the Diamond’s history was a tale for another time?” asked Dagger.

The foals all nodded, remembering the story of the cursed gem from Equus.

“Well, it’s another time now,” grinned Dagger.

The Cirrus, Mess Hall, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

“So how’s the new favorite son doing?” asked Cloak, balancing a butter knife on his nose.

Rat glanced over to where Death Drop was sitting with Descent, talking about the latest contract kill he’d made while Devil, Trance, Blade and Sin laughed heartily. “Swimming Skies” had been renamed “Death Drop”, and had quickly established himself as a highly skilled assassin in the past four years.

“He’s doing quite well for himself,” began Rat calmly. “Descent was very pleased with his progress early on, and he really did work hard to finish training in two years.”

“You’re not jealous of the pipsqueak?” asked Hawk.

“Why would I be jealous of him?” replied Rat in confusion.

“Well, he’s just like Descent, isn’t he?” mused Hawk. “He’s a killer, and a damn good one at that. You don’t think that Descent’s gonna pick him as his favorite over you?”

“Hawk, that’s absolutely ridiculous,” scoffed Rat. “He and I may be different, but we’re all Shadowbolts, and we do our job damn well. There’s no shame in that.”

“You might want to rethink that statement, Runt,” sneered an unpleasant voice.

Rat turned to find Pitch swaying drunkenly behind him, flask in hoof.

“Dante wants to see you, and he looks pretty pissed,” slurred Pitch.

“I’ll go see him now,” nodded Rat. “I suggest you sit down. I know the way, and you look as though you have drunk enough to pickle a griffin twice over.”

Pitch glared at Rat even as Cloak struggled to disguise his laughter as a series of coughs. Dagger smirked slightly before going back to sharpening her blade. Pitch made a noise of irritation before stalking off without a word. Rat glanced over at his crew uneasily, concern reflected back in their eyes.

“Get your gear all packed together,” ordered Rat quietly. “We may be going on a rough mission, or we might need to fight our way out.”

The group all nodded subtly. They knew the escape plan well enough if things went south. Silently, Rat made his way to Dante’s office. Rat had to give Pitch credit. Dante did not look even remotely happy. The glare that he fixed Rat with could have scorched the scales off a dragon, but Dante seemed to be fighting very hard to keep his anger under control. While not ideal, this was a very good situation. The fact that Rat was still breathing right now meant that Dante still saw Rat as more of an asset than a liability. That meant Rat would be able to fix this.

“Sit,” barked Dante curtly.

“Is something wrong, sir?” asked Rat.

“You have been contacted from an outside entity,” explained Dante tersely.

“That’s… unusual,” replied Rat. “How?”

“They asked for the Mob to pass this along to ‘the group that you employed four years ago at the docks’, rather than contracting the Mob itself,” answered Dante. “It’s only the fact that they had to use the mob to pass the message that’s keeping you alive.”

“...And the message?” asked Rat, already knowing who it was.

“Other than a location and time?” replied Dante. “Only that ‘The stone of blood is not safe’.”

Rat’s blood went cold. The Stone of Blood. “La Pietra di Sangue”, in the old Griffon Tongue. One of the most dangerous objects in Equestrian history was at risk once again. Dante continued to glare sternly at Rat, waiting for an explanation.

“Sir, I’m going to need a full crew and the best assets that Hoxton can spare,” began Rat. “If this is about what I think it is, everyone is in grave danger. Not just us Shadowbolts, but all ponies, griffons, drakes, and whatever else lives under the sun.”

“Explain first, then we’ll talk about ‘actions’,” glared Dante.

“Have you heard of ‘The Diamond’?” asked Rat.

“That old legend?” scoffed Dante.

“Not a legend,” corrected Rat. “I’ve seen it, and the last ponies interested in stealing it were HTB and JSS.”

“And the leak?” pressed Dante.

“She was the adventurer who found the damn thing in the first place,” explained Rat. “It’s thanks to her Dagger and I made it out alive. She’s a client, not a leak. She can be trusted.”

“...You can take your team out to figure out what’s going on,” relented Dante. “If it is the Diamond causing problems, you may take whatever action the client deems appropriate. Whatever you do, don’t bring that damned thing back here. Tell the client not to worry about payment. It’s better for all of us to get that gem out of play at all costs. Meanwhile, I’ll see about getting one of our agents in the field to keep an eye on her from now on. Perhaps we can convince her to publish her exploits as fiction...”

Seaddle, Cafe, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Rat glided toward the cafe, scanning the crowd for Daring Do. He managed to spot the young mare at a table with a cup of coffee and a journal.

“Alright, I’m here now,” coughed Rat as he took a deep breath. “What the hell is wrong with the Dia-”

“Nothing is wrong with the diapers, dear,” Daring said quickly, and loud enough to be heard by everyone as she subtly indicates he should take a seat. She waited a few moments, then looked Rat in the eyes, “Not so loudly, a lot of open ears around here.”

“Alright, so we’re a newlywed couple now?” whispered Rat with a smirk. “Whatever you say, dear. Now could you explain what the hell is going on and why you went to the mob to go get me?”

“Well, a certain gem we both had our eyes on a few years back?” Daring started, her voice low, and her ears perked to hear anypony coming close. “It’s become… shall we say a lot more desirable to those who have it in their keeping. I am to understand a certain Janus is also involved.”

“Alright, so we need to move it to a new location, then,” replied Rat. “Get the owner to move it to a new museum or something. Take it on a tour.”

Shaking her head, Daring sighed. “At this point, I think it’s better nopony has their hooves on it. We thought it would be safe behind glass with nopony touching it, but we were wrong. It’s still affecting its caretakers.”

“I assume by ‘affecting’, you don’t mean ‘wanting to leave it right where it is’,” guessed Rat. “I don’t suppose you have any relevant details for the layout of the museum with you right now?”

“By ‘affected’ I mean they’re getting into fights over who gets to guard it,” Daring sighed again. She then looked around and reached into a vest pocket and produced a floor plan of the museum in question, handing it to Rat. “I went ahead and borrowed the floorplan from the records in city hall. They won’t miss them, the room was quite dusty.”

Rat slipped the floorplans into his satchel quickly, vowing to look at them back at the hotel. “Any other details I should know about, such as recent changes involving Janus?”

“Only that I visited the museum to see what things looked like in there,” Daring started, frowning slightly. “Figured my training as a Wonderbolt Reserve would come in handy, perhaps I could go with you and help recover this thing… but the ponies in there? They looked like veterans, scars and all.”

“Hey, I’m not without a few scars myself,” smirked Rat. “It’s been a rough few years without the suit I gave you.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Daring chuckled and winked. “I like my stallions with a few battle scars.” She then clears her throat and rubs the back of her head. “But, seriously, be careful. They might not be the heavy hitters, but something tells me they’re not pushovers. It’s why I contacted you guys in the first place… You helped me and Distant out last time, and I couldn’t think of anypony else that I could trust with this.”

“I’ve always been careful,” winked Rat. “Haven’t lost a single member yet or failed a job. Also, don’t worry too much about the payment. I’ve informed my boss about the severity of this job, and he’s willing to do this one pro bono.”

“Well, your track record does speak for itself,” Daring smiles. “And, honestly, I really should repay you in some way.” She chuckled. “But, such is a conversation for later, as you are right; the situation is serious. If we don’t remove the gem from play, there is no telling what it might do. And, honestly, I’d rather not be explaining to Celestia about how I allowed this artifact to cause Seaddle to erupt into riots.”

“That rock can do that?” asked Rat, slightly concerned.

“It’s caused wars to erupt,” Daring stated sadly. “Basically, it works like a want-it-need-it spell. Anypony who touches it falls under its influence, wanting it beyond anything else in the world. It also seems to work that way for ponies who are just around it for long periods of time, thus the problem with the staff.”

“I guess that ensures that the curse will always perpetuate itself while the damn thing is around other ponies,” mused Rat. “Why haven’t you or your mentor been affected?”

“We weren’t around it for long enough,” Daring shrugged. “And we put it in a special box when we realized what it was. Kept it contained.”

“Gotcha,” nodded Rat. “Will you be joining my crew on this endeavour, or will we simply report back to you at a remote location?”

“As much as I’d love to fight by your side,” Daring sighed, shaking her head. “I can’t. I’m barely out the door as a Wonderbolts’ Reservist, and while I bet I can handle my own, I don’t think it’d be a good idea for me to be tossed into the mix of your team with so much on the line.” She reached into her vest pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “This is the location I’ll be at, when you secure the gem, meet me there.”

“Alright, we’ll get right on this,” replied Rat, folding the paper and placing it in his satchel. “I already have my team waiting nearby. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“Just be careful?” Daring sighed. “Can’t stress it enough, I want to see you, and your whole team, in one piece at that meeting place.”

“It’s a date, then,” grinned Rat, winking slightly. “I’ll try not to stand you up.”

“Better keep that promise,” Daring chuckled, sticking her tongue out. “I’d hate to have to mar that pretty face of yours with a black eye.” She then sighed, “But, best to not keep you here any longer. You likely have to plan, and I should go prepare for later.”

“Understood,” nodded Rat. “Until later, then.”

Rat got up from the table, taking flight and making his way back to the hotel. He looked back at Daring and gave a cheeky mock-salute and a wink, grinning as he did so. As he looked back, he then noticed a familiar metallic sphere was hovering nearby. Rat’s mood instantly dropped. The crew would have a field day with this.

Shit.

Seaddle, Hotel, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Rat glided down to the hotel room balcony, a feeling of dread filling his gut. Tank was hunched over the minibar, which had been turned on its side to resemble something like a food dish. Phantasm was cleaning her crossbow, ensuring that each component moved properly. Cloak was jumping on the bed, a foalish grin wide on his face. Hawk rolled his eyes as he sat in the corner, drinking a hard cider he’d retrieved from the minibar before Tank turned it into a bowl. Upon seeing Rat, Cloak’s grin widened.

“Well, look who got back from his date, everyone,” grinned Cloak.

“Not a date,” sighed Rat.

“Oh, really?” teased Cloak. “Meeting a beautiful mare at an open-air cafe setting isn’t a date? I suppose you set the date up for afterwards, then. ‘Business before pleasure’ and all that.”

“Cloak…” warned Rat.

“Don’t deny it, Casanova!” grinned Cloak. “We heard the ‘It’s a date, then’ and ‘I like my stallions with a few battle scars’! Want me to play it back-”

“Cloak, if you don’t stop right now, I’m going to tell Trance you called him Pint-Size and tell Ruin that you need a lullaby to sleep at night,” threatened Rat.

“Alright, alright, say no more, Boss,” whistled Cloak. “All I’m saying is you’ve got some damn good taste in mares. A flank like that is hard to find outside of a magazine-”

“Careful, Cloak, your mare wouldn’t be happy to hear you talk like that,” commented Dagger.

“First, she was never ‘my mare’, no matter how much I wish she was,” retorted Cloak. “Second, it’s been four years since I saw her last, and she’s probably got some rich, greasy, mobster coltfriend that she drinks champagne with in the harbor on his private yacht. She’s moved on, and so should I.”

“If you say so, brother,” smirked Dagger.

“As interesting as this conversation is,” piped up Hoxton, transmitting to a nearby Hummingbird from his workshop, “we should probably get back to the matter at hoof?”

“Agreed,” nodded Rat. “Hoxton, did you look up the security specs for the museum?”

“I did, and you’re really not going to like it,” sighed Hoxton. “JSS has made some really big strides in the security industry in the past few years, and they’ve given the museum a special touch.”

“Details, Hox,” pressed Rat.

“Laserwire alarms on all the doors leading into the back room where the Roan Exhibition is being held, a CCTV camera system all around the museum monitored by a security guard ‘round the clock, iron bars on all the windows, and at least fifteen JSS veterans roaming around with a pager system,” explained Hoxton. “Plus, in the room for the Diamond itself, they’ve got this big “Floor Puzzle” thing that I swear I saw in the last adventure novel I read.”

“Alright,” sighed Rat. “Let’s go over the plan…”

Seaddle, Museum of Natural History, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Rat motioned for the others to move quietly behind him. The plan was fairly simple: Rat, Cloak, Hawk, and Dagger would be sneaking into the museum and retrieving the package, while Tank and Phantasm would wait outside. The first step would be to breach the interior of the museum without being detected by the cameras or the sentries roaming the halls. Rat moved swiftly across the courtyard, hefting his can of thermite paste. It would be a simple matter of cutting through the iron grate and picking the lock on the basement window, as long as none of the guards noticed the smell of burning steel.

Four shadows moved quickly across the grounds, passing beneath the sightline of the guard. Working quickly, Rat and Hawk applied their cans of thermite paste to each bar of the grate and ignited the fuse. A ring of flame appeared around the grate as the thermite melted through the steel bars, which fell to the ground with a muted clatter. The two swiftly picked the locks on the two windows, and the team of four pegasi slipped into the building undetected.

Rat peered down the hallways to check for guards and cameras before signalling for the group to split up. The laserwire alarms operated off of a separate circuit that tapped from a number of circuit boxes around the museum. If enough of those boxes were rewired to divert power from the that circuit, the laserwire alarm would be inoperable, allowing the group to pass into the Equus Empire exhibition hall. Each member was in charge of a different circuit box, and they would regroup by the back hall when finished.

Rat moved to the his circuit box, carefully clipping the wires as shown in the diagram. He closed the panel, moving back down the hall across from the Ancient Wyvern exhibition. There was a brief sound of metal on glass, a small popping sound, and a clink of glass touching the floor. Rat didn’t even have to look to know what had happened.

“Put it back, Cloak,” sighed Rat.

“Come on, Boss!” protested Cloak as he held an ancient Wyvern Imperium rank badge. “We might as well make whatever money we can off of this job! Bane told me about this great black market fence in Marerakech-”

“I told you to put it back,” repeated Rat. “We’re here for the Diamond. Nothing more.”

“Fine,” sighed Cloak petulantly. “Don’t want to piss off your marefriend, I guess.”

“Not my marefriend,” hissed Rat.

“Yet,” quipped Cloak, grinning.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Cloak…” hissed Rat.

“Last box is rewired,” reported Dagger, passing by the two of them. “Lasers should be disabled now.”

Rat turned away from Cloak, now ready to begin the next part of the plan as the four pegasi slipped into the Roan Exhibition. The next phase of the plan involved the large “floor puzzle” that Hox had mentioned. In the Diamond Room, JSS had wired the floor tiles with a pressure sensitive alarm system that would sound a general alarm and deploy all sorts of nasty traps. Even flying wasn’t an option with how sensitive the tiles were, as the pressure waves of wingbeats would still be enough to trigger the sensors. However, it was possible to temporarily rewire the box to create a path to the other side, but only for a brief time window.

Hawk began the rewiring process, working quickly from the diagram shown. The tiles disarmed one by one, but something was wrong. The tiles were not deactivating in a straight path, but instead were shutting down in a wandering line. After a minute, the tiles reactivated as though Hawk had done nothing. Hawk attempted the rewiring again, and a different set of tiles deactivated. Rat frowned and leaned over Hawk’s shoulder.

“What the hell is going on?” hissed Rat.

“I don’t know!” whispered Hawk. “I redid the wiring just like Clover showed me! I don’t understand what’s going wrong!”

“JSS must have some form of countermeasure in place,” mused Dagger.

“Damn!” cursed Cloak. “What now, Boss?”

“We keep to the plan,” replied Rat, preparing the specialized bag they’d brought to carry the Diamond. “Hawk, rewire the box when I tell you to, and signal off which direction I need to move, assuming that I face the back wall the entire time.”

“Are you nuts?!” exclaimed Cloak in a tense whisper. “Even if you cross as soon as you see his motions, you’ll have mere seconds to pick the lock and grab the rock before hauling your ass back here!”

“Then I better be quick about the lock,” replied Rat, before nodding to Hawk.

The next sixty seconds were the longest sixty seconds in the lives of all present. Hawk motioned out the sequence in which Rat was supposed to move, and Rat moved swiftly and flawlessly through the sequence. In total, it took thirty-five seconds to cross, leaving Rat twenty-five seconds to pick the lock and return over the same path. Rat moved swiftly with picking the lock, opening the case and bagging the Diamond in fifteen seconds. Rat rushed over the deactivated tiles as time slowly ran out. Just as the alarms reactivated, Rat dove toward the stone slab, rolling across the floor to his hooves as he did so.

“Bucking Tartarus in tartar sauce, Boss, that was really close!” swore Cloak.

“What counts is that I made it,” replied Rat. “Let’s get this rock out of here and out of Janus’ hooves.”

The four pegasi slipped back into the previous room, but were unprepared for what they saw. A team of four HTB mercenaries stood in the doorway, armed with crossbows and short blades. The HTB soldiers stared in shock at the Shadowbolts, clearly having been sent to retrieve the Diamond and make it look like a robbery. Thankfully, Dagger had kept her wits about her, smashing the nearest glass case. The alarms instantly blared, dropping the security barrier at the entrance to the hall.

In that moment, the two teams of thieves broke into hoof-to-hoof combat. Rat caught one mercenary in a headlock and struck him where his jaw and neck met, knocking him unconscious instantly. The young stallion looked up in time to see Cloak drop-kick another mercenary into an open sarcophagus, trapping the unfortunate soul inside. Hawk had not been nearly as lucky, having been caught off guard in the initial conflict. The Shadowbolt was on the ground as a mercenary bent his left wing more and more out of place. This merc soon found himself tag-teamed by Cloak and Dagger, getting his horn shattered against the marble tile floor from repeated blows.

“I hope you had a plan, Dagger!” grunted Hawk as he tried to pull his wing back in place. “Local authorities will be here in forty five seconds, and I don’t see us getting through that barrier in even forty five hours!”

“Wait for it,” replied Dagger as she pulled Hawk’s wing into place with a sickening snap.

There was a brief crash as a window shattered in the distance, and soon they could hear the heavy hoofsteps of Tank as he charged at the steel barrier. Grinding metal filled the ears of all present as Tank slammed into the barrier repeatedly until it snapped off of its hinges and hit the back wall. Tank grabbed Hawk unceremoniously and slung the injured pegasus over his shoulder. The three other Shadowbolts took wing in an instant, flying through the hallways into the courtyard, where they made their escape into the night sky.

Undisclosed Location, Meeting Point Coordinates, Istallion Peninsula
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Rat glided gently toward the location where Daring and her mentor were waiting. The air was heavier and filled with the sense of death as they approached the overlook, watching the dark clouds over the dead city beyond. Tank took care to land as gently as he could, trying not to jostle his companion. Daring marched up to Rat, an eyebrow raised.

“Look who finally showed up,” Daring’s voice is full of sarcasm, matching her smile. “I’d ask if you got what we asked for, but you’ve yet to fail me yet.” She looks over the group and sighs. “Were there complications?”

“HTB showed up, unfortunately, just as we were walking out with the Diamond,” replied Rat, glancing sheepishly at Hawk.

“Hey, don’t mind me,” smirked Hawk. “Just don’t get too steamy down there, because a wing-boner really hurts with a dislocated wing.”

Rat glared at Hawk while the injured stallion glanced away innocently.

Rolling her eyes, Daring can’t help but smile. “No promises. After all, your boss is a thief; he might just steal something more precious than that diamond.” She then clears her throat and looks to Rat, “So, where is it? Longer we wait to toss that thing beyond anypony’s reach, the more time it has to work its magic.”

Rat glanced at Dagger, who had last held the cursed bag. The Shadowbolt mare stepped forward and presented the Diamond as though presenting a sword.

“Your Royal Adventurer-ness,” snarked Dagger. “Ink dry yet?”

“Just about, I think,” Daring quipped back with a wink as she takes the bag before turning to Distant who is setting up what looks to be a miniature ballista.

“Daring, your ego is showing again,” Distant chuckles without looking up.

“Damn, you didn’t say there’d be two of them, Boss,” quipped Cloak.

“And that’s why you should stay awake during the briefings,” countered Rat with a smirk. “So why exactly are we disposing of the Diamond here, Daring?”

Putting the bag down next to the ballista, Daring pointed towards the treeline. “That, my mercenary friends, is Roan. It is one of the only known Equus Empire era cities in existence.” Sighing, she looks towards the group with a deadly serious gaze. “It’s also cursed, anypony who enters dies a horrible, gruesome death. As such, no one goes inside, so it’s the perfect place to hide this little monstrosity far, far away from the hooves of those who would use it, and thus be used by it.”

“Hence why you told us not to fly over it, despite Cloak’s suggestion to save time?” deduced Dagger, glancing at Rat while Cloak turned pale.

“Exactly,” confirmed Rat. “So basically, anyone trying to get to the Diamond will die a horrible death long before they reach it?”

“Pretty much, kid,” nodded Distant. “So who wants to do the honors?”

“I’d suggest Mister Wing-Boner,” Daring chuckles, looking at Hawk.

“You heard the mare, Hawk,” grinned Rat. “Go on and pull the lever.”

“Shut up and go make out with your marefriend in the bushes,” grumbled Hawk as he moved off of Tank’s back and pulled the lever on the ballista.

The bag flew straight and true, directly toward the main spire of the castle. There was a distant sound of crashing glass as the bag reached its target. At this, the Rat Pack breathed a collective sigh of relief. Rat glanced over at Daring, giving a small grin.

“Well, thank Celestia that’s over,” observed Rat.

“Indeed,” grinned Cloak, before stumbling slightly over a large satchel that Rat had not noticed previously.

Rat was livid. Cloak had disobeyed a direct order to not touch anything. And in spite of that, there sat a large brown leather satchel filled with stolen antiquities. Before Rat could say a word, Distant Horizon beat him to it.

“What do we have here?” Distant asks slowly as she walks over and nudges the satchel open. “Well well, it looks like you saved some artifacts from the corrupt cops who’ll decide to pad their paychecks.” She looks at Cloak with a smile and winks. “I mean, you obviously weren’t stealing them, were you, dear? That’d be bad, and you look like a fine, upstanding stallion. I’m sure you were going to go put them somewhere the proper authorities can find it, weren’t you?”

“Uh… Yes! Yes, of course!” chuckled Cloak nervously. “Actually, I was going to hand them over to you! Yes! Absolutely!”

Rat could feel his pulse quicken as he stepped forward to call Cloak on his bullshit, but a glance from Distant placated him. Cloak handed the satchel over to Distant and shuffled back to the group where Hawk was shaking in silent laughter.

Looking into the satchel, Distant whistles. “You know, with what some of the things in here are worth, you could retire someplace quiet for the rest of your lives.” She chuckles. “Like Saddle Arabia, I’ve always wanted to live there.”

“No way in Tartarus,” grunted Rat. “Lived there most of my life, and I can assure you that it isn’t quiet unless you have money.”

“Son, I’m a noble, and when you’ve lived with Canterlot nobility all your life, Saddle Arabia is just as quiet as I’d like, with or without money.” Distant quipped, shrugging. “Now, if that’s everything, I think we’d best go. Your friend looks like he could use a doctor, and I’m sure if your sticky-hooved friend gets any more red, you’ll be able to mistake him for a tomato.”

“Understood,” Rat nodded. “I suppose we’ll see each other again soon enough.”

Rat signaled the group, and the Shadowbolts took to the sky, flying back the way that they came.

“Cloak, you are an absolute dumbass,” sighed Rat. “You’re lucky that the client was so good-humored.”

“And you’re just sore that Cloak embarrassed you in front of your marefriend!” taunted Hawk.

“...Hawk, do you want a second dislocated wing?” asked Rat.

The Cirrus, Mess Hall, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

“Glad that all turned out OK,” chuckled Razor.

“Yeah, there were a few rough spots there, but we pulled through alright,” sighed Rat.

“So who exactly is this mare you’re seeing?” asked Razor with a grin.

“For the last damn time, she-” began Rat.

“RAT, YOU SON OF A BITCH, GET YOUR MALNOURISHED ASS OVER HERE!!!” howled Hoxton.

Rat flinched, turning to where the older pegasus stood with a file folder in hoof, veins pulsing in his head. This did not bode well for Rat. Even when he’d “lost” his flight suit, he’d never seen Hoxton this angry. The grey stallion was attempting to take deep breaths in order to calm his rising blood pressure. Dante being angry with him meant instant death if he’d not been careful, and somehow this was more terrifying.

“Rat, you told me four years ago that you lost your flight suit to unforeseen circumstances during that escort mission for the Seaddle Mob, right?” asked Hoxton through gritted teeth.

“...Yes, I did, why do you ask?” replied Rat hesitantly.

“Then perhaps you can explain why that flight suit is being worn by some floozy pegasus whose running around on rooftops with a sign that says ‘Come see me sometime, Rat’ ALL OVER THE DAMN TOWN?!?!?!” bellowed Hoxton.

At this, Hoxton threw his file folder down and a series of surveillance photos spilled out. Every single one of them was of Daring wearing the Shadowbolt suit that Rat had given her, posing flirtily on the rooftops of downtown Seaddle. Rat could feel his face begin to burn as he stared at how the suit clung well to Daring’s form, leaving little to the imagination. Razor grinned impishly at Rat, as if he were a cat with a canary in its mouth.

“So what was that about ‘she’s not my mare’?” asked Razor with false innocence.

“...Shit,” swore Rat.

“I will say this, Rat,” chuckled Razor. “You have excellent taste.”

“Oh shut your mouth, ya old windbag,” snapped Rat, face still burning as Razor laughed his ass off.
To Be Continued...

Author's Notes:

And so... After FAR too long, I make my return. XD Thanks to Sylvian for lending his characters Daring Do and Distant Horizon.

This means that active work will resume on Shadowbolts: A Memoir, as of this moment.