The pony in front was a tall earth stallion, whose black coat blended in well with the shadows he traversed on his way from the incline to the hovercraft; at times, Kevin could only see the white and deep green of his eyes as he grew nearer, followed by his entourage of four whose faces were even more obscure. Not knowing what to do, Kevin froze.

“Kevin! What are you doing?!” Scootaloo called from behind. “Why are you just standing there?!”

“I-I...” the colt murmured, still looking ahead. “I don't know...”

“We've gotta move,” Flight hissed. “Forget Cotton and Mochi and just run!”

“Don't run, kid.” It was the stallion ahead that said this, quietly yet firmly. He had paused a few metres away, standing between two bushes whose tiny leaves puffed up to the base of his neck. “If you're who I believe ya to be, then we wish ya no harm.”

“Don't listen to him, Kev. He could be with the police—we can't afford to take the chance.” Flight sounded further away and, as Kevin glanced over his shoulder, he could see that she was hovering in the air just above the back railing of the hovercraft.

Kevin bit his lip and turned his head back around. “Who do you think I am?” His voice quavered as he spoke, though he hoped it wasn't that noticeable.

“You're Kevin, friend to Doc Zed, and you're travelling with Scootaloo here,” the stallion said flatly. He paid little attention to the four ponies standing around him, who seemed to be more focused on the hovercraft than the ponies in it. “My name is Turnip Acres, an' it's a pleasure to meet ya,” he continued as he took a few more steps forward and to the side until he was directly next to the ship, his head about level with the top of the railing. Kevin turned to watch as the stallion crouched down and, before he could react, Turnip Acres leapt up over the railing and onto the hovercraft, causing the floor to tremble violently underneath them. As the stallion landed, Kevin was able to make out the distinctive bulbous shape of a turnip on his flank, coloured in a gradient from purplish-red to white.

"Wait a sec," Flight said, lowering herself until her hooves touched down next to Scootaloo. "Turnip Acres? Like, with the rebels?"

"Indeed, that'd be me," Turnip Acres replied with a brusque nod. "I was told by Doc Zed that I could be findin' you kids here, so out here we came."

Scootaloo cocked her head. "I thought we were going to be meeting you in the town, though. I mean, not that we're not happy to see you or anything, but you kinda startled us." The filly glanced over at the pile of Mochi and Cotton Fluff that remained still at the foot of the hovercraft's control panel.

Turnip nodded once more. "Really, I'm sorry about that. It just became pretty darn apparent that it wasn't safe to have you waltz into town just like that, so I reckoned it'd be better if we came out here and led you to our hideout. I'd've called you if I could, but Zed wouldn't give me the number 'cause he was afraid you'd be caught. Not that his worries were unfounded, but... erm... yeah."

"Whatever—what's done is done," Scootaloo said. "Where do you want us to go now?"

"Am I welcome to fly the craft?" Turnip asked. "It'd prob'ly be easy for me to just fly us there, since I know where we're going and all."

"Yeah, sure. I don't even know how to fly it, anyway, and I don't think Kevin or Flight do either." Scootaloo leaned to the side to look around the stallion. "I'm sure either Cotton or Mochi would be willing, but I think they're down for the count."

"Terrific," the stallion replied, turning around. Once he had trotted up to the front, he carelessly pushed Mochi and Cotton Fluff aside so that he had enough room to stand and pilot the craft. Then, he leaned forward. "Comrades!" Turnip barked. "On the ship, now!"

Scootaloo watched as the four other ponies trotted up to the side of the ship and, unlike their leader, actually used the door to enter, swinging it open before they clambered aboard. In the corner of her eye, the filly could see Kevin and Flight watching, curiously, as these strange, unknown ponies entered their midst.

"Hello!" greeted the first pony to climb up, a green-coated unicorn mare with a squeaky voice who stood only about as tall as Scootaloo. "My name is—"

"Later!" Turnip growled. "We've got to get moving before we run into the town guard." He glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the last of the ponies had climbed aboard and then, without waiting for them to shut the door, he slammed down on the forward propulsion pedal with a hoof and Scootaloo braced herself as they zoomed forward.

The green-coated mare flashed her a small smile, friendly and earnest. Although she was a little confused, Scootaloo shot a smile back in turn.

Kevin leaned against the starboard-side railing, clutching his stomach. Flight looked on in concern, paying no mind to the strange ponies standing around them who seemed almost as confused as they did.

"You feeling okay?" the filly asked.

"Urghh... not really," Kevin replied, looking up with a pained expression. "I'm not usually hoversick, but all this speeding around and starting and stopping isn't really helping."

"Aw, don't worry," Flight replied, patting Kevin on his shoulders with a hoof. "Soon enough, we'll be at these ponies' hideout and I'm sure you'll be able to lie down or have a walk or whatever you want."

"Urp... I dunno about that," Kevin said with a frown.

Flight raised an eyebrow. "How come?"

"Eheh... I meant that I don't think it'll be soon enough... urp!" Kevin leaned over the side of the railing and puked.

Flight facehoofed. "Well, that's one way of doing it..."