There was a soft knock on the university president's door, and Masra didn't even look up from her paperwork as she shouted “Come in.”

The door swung open just enough for an indigo unicorn to slip inside, one hoof adjusting her glasses nervously. “Miss President?”

“Miss Rasa,” Masra replied as she set aside her quill and looked up at her new guest. “What can I do for you this evening?”

“Well,” Tabula Rasa started, rubbing the back of her foreleg with the other, “It's just that it's been a while since Daring Do and Zapapple Tock left on their trip and...”

“And based on their time frame they should have been on site for a little over a day.” Masra replied calmly as she tucked an errant strand of her silver mane back behind her ear. “Why do you bring it up?”

“I was talking to the weather department earlier,” Tabula explained as she slowly made her way toward the president's desk as she pulled a paper out of the saddlebags slung across her back. “and they seemed to have noticed something very...peculiar to the north.”

She unfurled the map across the table once she was close enough, and Masra found herself leaning over the table to take a better look at it. “A weather map?”

Tabula nodded. “Based on observations from the last twelve hours of the northern Unicorn Range.”

“Correct me if I am mistaken,” Masra said as she tilted her head. “But am I reading this properly in that there is a blizzard in those mountains?”

“There is,” Tabula confirmed. “One that wasn't on any of the published weather schedules.”

“A wild storm?” Masra asked as she looked up at the library unicorn.

“The strange part is where is seemed to come from.” Tabula said as she pulled out a few more scrolls which turned out to be yet more maps.

“It's as if it just...popped up half a day ago over a valley and has been growing ever sense.”

“Isn't this the valley miss Tock and miss Do were heading toward?” Masra asked.

Tabula nodded. “I..I helped them with their research. I helped them pick that spot. If I sent them into a wild territory like that...”

“There is no way you could have known.” Masra said, quickly cutting of Tabula's train of thought. “This region is unmarked and unknown – it's why they were going there.” Masra turned back to the map. “Still...this is a troubling development. I assume you've looked through the climate records?”

Tabula gave another nod. “There's no history of errant weather patterns in that area – at least nothing of this scale. Most that's usually reported is heavy mist, maybe some secondary precipitation triggered by nearby weather activities. Its like this storm just came out of nowhere.”

“Nothing come from nowhere.” Masra replied as she studied the map. “Everything has a cause – you said this was centered on the valley?”

Tabula nodded. “We can't get a good angle with our telescopes and observation balloons just end up looking down onto the storm – we can't see the valley interior at all.”

Masra expression quickly grew troubled as she continued to study the map. “This is...highly troubling. You are certain this isn't being generated by natural effects?”

“Not absolutely,” Tabula replied nervously, “But if it is then something has significantly altered the local atmospheric behavior.”

“Indeed,” Masra agreed, “But why now?”

“I..I don't know.” Tabula replied. “Not yet – I thought you should know about this before I started further research and...”

“You are worried about your friends,” Masra finished for her as she pushed the map back towards her. “Please keep me appraised of your progress. In fact...”

Tabula gave Masra a confused look as the president suddenly moved out from behind her desk and started toward the door. “Miss president?”

“Please follow me, Miss Rasa.” Masra said as she opened the door. “There is somebody else I think I need to talk to about this...”

Tabula Rasa quickly followed behind the University president as she quickly started her way through the halls of the school. It was still the early afternoon, which meant a great many students were still in the halls heading between classes. Rumors of the new president had been circulating for days, but for most of those in the halls, it was their first chance to get a look at their new president. A few looked disappointed – stories of the former Royal Guard that had grown with each telling until, when presented with the genuine article, made the somewhat svelte grey-coated earth pony seem quite underwelming.

Others, however, found themselves cowering away from her as she passed for reasons that had little to do with her position of authority. The purple-maned earth mare marched don the hall with the steady and deliberate pace of a Canterlot locomotive, and her steely gaze suggested she was as likely to be just as unforgiving on anypony that ended underhoof.

One pony did not seem bothered by her, however, as the brown-coated earth stallion half trotted and half stumbled through the crowd of students and coming to a fumbling stop a few steps in front of the president. “Ah, miss president!”

Masra gave the stallion a nod of recognition, the smallest quirk of her eyebrow the only change in her expression. “Professor Ed, you look...troubled.”

Tabula leaned around Masra to look at the professor and had to agree. His black mane was a mess, and his cutie mark looked like it hadn't been properly brushed any time recently, its Phi symbol looking uncharacteristically dull.

“I came in this morning and my entire department had been moved!” the professor exclaimed. “Like it had just upped and left. I found everything in a trio of offices in in the east wing.”

“That is because I had the philosophy department moved, professor.” Masra replied calmly, “The vast majority of the ancillary courses and fields that interact with your department are located across campus. By relocating you and co-locating you with related offices, student transit times will be reduced Twenty-three percent. Reduction of your office space to that which is more in-line with your needs reduces department costs by seventeen percent. The knock-on effects are less numerically quantified, but are likely non-trivial.”

Professor Ed nodded slowly, seeming to only understand maybe half of what the president had just said. “I...see. Well, thank you for clearing that up, president. I suppose I should go make sure everything is in order then.”

Tabula watched professor Ed start down the hall before looking at Masra. “Did you really move his offices because of all of that?”

“Of course,” Masra replied as she started down the hall again. “Ponies may lie, but numbers do not – quantified observations are the closest one can get to absolute truth. Numbers, unlike ponies, are absolute.”

Tabula nodded as she followed behind her. “Not everything can be absolute though, right? Some things don't fit into numbers.”

“As expected from the university's librarian,” Masra said, a small smile unseen by Tabula as they walked along. “and I imagine you are quite right – not everything is rational, and many have expressed a similar sentiment as yourself. Sadly, that doesn't make grasping such things easier – so, I make do.”

“R-Right...” Tabula nodded, not quite following but deciding that she wasn't going to get very far asking more questions. Every so often a pony from the physics or mathmatics department would come into the library, claiming to have cracked the key to everything – that they had figured out how to break down everything into ever so many numbers.

The president was not like those ponies. She knew that even numbers had their limits – and that, Tabula imagined, is why she had made it as far as she had.

Nopony else interrupted them as they made their way across campus to the International Studies department, stopping in from of a wood and frosted glass door, the lettering on the front reading 'Storm Talon', with a small piece of paper taped below it that said, in a sharp scrawl, 'if you knock, it had better be good.'

Masra ignored the piece of paper and rapped on the door with one hoof before taking a step back and waiting for a moment while Tabula remained behind her. The librarian was more than happy to let the president take lead on this.

The door was yanked open and an angry looking head of black feathers stuck itself out. “I already told you that you aren't getting any bucking-” Storm Talon let the sentence trail off as he saw who was at the door. “Oh, you – hear to chase me out of my office as well?”

“Not at all,” Masra replied calmly. “Your department is perfectly placed in relation to both the political science and history departments. An issue is at hoof concerning two of your more notable protégées. May I come in?”

Talon considered her for a moment before sighing and stepping back, pulling the door open to let them in. “What did those two morons do now?”

“That is what I was hoping you could help me figure out,” Masra replied as she stepped into the office, Tabula following closely behind. Professor Storm Talon's office was softly lit, leaving the room in a slight gloom that Masra likely assumed was intentional. The desk that Talon had was a simple affair, as were the bookcases on either side that were crammed full of books and papers with little regard for order. Other than the two chairs in front of the desk, the only décor was the collection of pictures and nick-nacks adorning the open wall space. Where most professors hung their diplomas, Storm Talon hung swords and pictures of his earlier days. Several showed him, younger and still processing all of his original limbs, standing at attention with other griffons in full military uniform, the deck and accouterments of a griffon airship obvious in the background. Other showed him with a couple of ponies, and almost always the same ones. Only a couple were in color, and in those the tan pony he was with had a very familiar looking gray-scale mane. “Fond memories?” She asked as she examined one of the blades hanging next to the bookcase.

“Reminders of the past,” Talon replied as he took the seat behind his desk, eyeing Masra as she took one of the remaining chairs. “But I'd imagine you know how that goes.”

Masra gave him a small smile. “You've read my file.”

“Would have been stupid not to,” Talon replied with a shrug. “same reason you read mine.”

“I read yours so I knew what I had at my disposal.” Masra replied calmly. “I find it best to be prepared.”

“So what does the Tyrant Queen of Numbers want with me?” Talon asked. “And what do my two *squawking* dumb-ass's have to do with it?”
Masra's smile transitioned into a small grin. “I'm surprised that name is still following me around – do you know why I have it?”

“Because you work in just one way,” Talon replied. “By cold hard math. I've heard about some of the crap you managed to pull of during the war – some seriously impressive shit if even half of it is true. Not sure if I could have done some of that.”
Masra shrugged. “The needs of the many.”

Talon snorted. “If that lets you sleep at night – ever regret any of it?”

“Never,” Masra replied without hesitation. “Now – about your students...”

The next twenty minutes was spent explaining the matter at hoof to the griffon. His avian features were damnably hard to read, but the steady increase to the tilt of his head said more then enough.

“So,” Talon said after Masra finished her explanation, “Either those two have even worse luck than I thought, or something is trying to kill them.”

“So it seems,” Masra replied with a nod, “Though in the case of the latter we cannot be sure if their deaths are the primary aim or simply a byproduct of a larger action.”

“Still leaves the question of what the buck they found.” Talon replied as he pulled one of the maps closer.

“You assume that they are the ones that triggered this,” Masra replied sceptically as she waved a hoof at a map. “Nothing we have observed indicates anything as such.”

“You want my opinion?” Talon snapped back, “The bucking odds of this sort of shit-show coming down at the exact same moment those two are up there are about as good as the odds of a snowball seeing tomorrow if I shoved it up Celestia's ass.” Talon leaned back in his chair. “You like math – I'll give you a moment to work it out.”

Masra's smirk widened a little. “I think your analogy is sufficient, professor. And I did come here for your opinion.”

“And my opinion is that those two are bucked seven ways to sunday.” Talon replied. “So unless you've got an airship shoved up your rump, this entire exercise is moot.”

“I may not have an airship anywhere on – or, rather, in – my person, but I do know of one close at hoof.” Masra replied. “You are aware that this University has an airship, yes?”

“Yeah,” Talon replied with a shrug, “Getting tested by the aeronautical department before they start building more.” Talon paused as he realized what she was getting at. “Okay, I take back what I said about you sense you arrived. You aren't evil – you're just *squawking* insane.”
“Is it doable?” Masra asked.

“Is what doable?” Tabula finally spoke up from the seat next to the president. She had lost track of the conversation some time around the first string of explicatives.

“Madam president here wants to steal an airship.” Talon replied. “Not just any airship, mind you – a Royal Guard prototype. A vessel created as part of a project under the direct auspices and observation of the Solar Throne. You want to steal Miss Sunshines personal toy? Be my guest, but I'm not feeling up to suicide at the fucking moment – and if you ant to save those girls, neither should you.”
“Suppose you had to do it,” Masra replied, “Hypothetically speaking – how would you do it?”

“I'd need six months to plan it and a operational fund that could cover the theoretical arcana department until the sun goes out.”
“And if you had to do it on a shoestring budget?” Masra asked.

“Then a motherbucking miracle.” Storm answered. “You need inside access.”

“Which I have.” Masra replied. “Obviously. Anything else?”

“People to pilot the damned thing.” He continued. “Only problem is that you need a lot of loud idiots to pilot a ship, which makes getting them in real bucking difficult.”

“Assume you only need to get one pony in,” Masra replied. “What about then?”

“How the fuck-” He cut himself off as he glanced at Masra. Then at Tabula. Then he groaned as he brought a claw to his face with a groan, “Oh. Oh no. I know hat you're thinking – you might have been hot shit way back when, but I don't care what you think of the girl – she cannot pilot an entire airship single-hoofed.”

“Oh, I don't know about that.” Masra replied with a small shrug. “But either way you are avoiding the question – if she was the only one you need to ensure reached the ship, how would you do it?”

“You want an infiltration,” Storm said flatly as he leveled a glare at the president. “You'd have to sneak on and then do...something to get the actual crew off the thing. This is still ignoring that this is all completely bucking insane.”

“Could I not simply order the crew from the ship on some sort of pretense?” Masra asked. “I am afraid naval protocols are somewhat beyond me in regards to such things.”

Talon waved a claw dismissively. “The working crews, maybe, but that ship is a high-end piece of military equipment and you have foreign nationals running around your campus. As nice as Celestia likes to play with our neighbors, doesn't mean we trust them around that sort of shit. You need something to get them off the ship.”

"So,” Tabula mused out loud, head tilting as she stared at the ceiling, lost in her thoughts. “What would make a bunch of ponies evacuate a magically powered ship?” Tabula looked down as she noticed the professor and the president stared at her. “What?”

“How do you-” Talon pointed at her with one claw, “Know what the buck that thing runs on?”

“They needed a text on magic storage in crystalline minerals,” She replied nervously, “Only reason I could think of for why a the work crew on a ship could need that was if they were powering something magically.”

Masra grinned. “An astute observation, Miss Rasa. I do believe you've given us our means of clearing the ship.”

“You want to blow up some sort of magical battery?” Storm Talon asked, quickly catching on.

“Just simulate a possible failure,” Masra replied with a shrug. “We came across a few artifacts of the arcane persuasion during the war – none of them were particularly stable. Most ponies, naturally, have a great fear of uncontrolled magics.”

“Its not fear if its justified,” Storm Talon replied with a small shudder. “So, do I even want to know why you're risking your tail on this bullshit?”
Masra raised an eyebrow. “Why are you?”

“I'm a moron and I owe somepony.” He replied with a shrug. “What's your excuse?”

“I don't leave my ponies in harms way,” Masra replied simply. “Not when I don't have to.”

“Didn't figure you were one to value people so much,” Talon replied gruffly.

“On the contrary,” Masra replied, taking what most ponies would consider an insult without so much as a twitch, “I weigh lives greatly – and the only thing that is worth more then the live of one innocent soul is the life of two. Compared to that, the cost of this...operation,” She gestured with a hoof at the notes strewn across the table, “Is trivial.”

“Uh-huh.” Talon replied as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, on the up side the ship should be well-provisioned – they've been taking it out on shake-down cruises nearly every weekend and they've got a damn sight more ponies then we will.”

“A stroke of good luck.” Masra replied.

“A pearl in the shit.” Talon corrected. “Still means your up past your fetlocks in shit. Not where you usually want to be.” He turned to Masra.

“So, you've got flying the ship and getting the ship worked out – what about you? As much as I'd love to see you head off to your most likely hideously gruesome death, I unfortunately need you to live through this – and if the university board finds out about this, we're all bucked – starting with the girls.”

“That...” Masra replied, “...is an excellent question. It is rather early for me to be taking a trip, even if I claimed it was for university matters.”
“Because the board would wonder where the trip suddenly came from.” Talon replied. “Office politics is a bitch, ain't it?”

“Not as much as actual politics,” Masra replied. “But I lack the insulation of distance that I once had – I hate politics.”

“Then why take this job?” Talon asked.

Masra quirked an eyebrow. “If not me, then who?”

Talon looked at her for a moment before sighing. “I should have guessed. So, any ideas?”

“What about Professor Dachshund?” Masra and Storm Talon turned to Tabula Rasa as she suddenly spoke up, and the unicorn suddenly felt the urge to make herself very small. “I-I mean, uh, maybe we could ask him to, uh, cover for us?”

“While mister Dachshund is no doubt discrete,” Masra replied with a sigh, “I doubt that he has the ability to manage this University for any period of time.”
“If by that you mean he's stoned out of his gourd most of the time,” Talon replied, “then yeah.”

“His file clearly states that his consumption of psychoactive substances is for medical reasons.” Masra replied.

“And I'm queen of Shiva and wear a shiny hat.” Storm grumbled back.

“Well,” Tabula interjected nervously, “He doesn't have to actually run things while you're gone, right? The University deals with the president being absent all the time – the only difference with this is that its not, uh...official.”

“You still have not addressed why Mister Dachshund would be better suited then say, Professor Ed.” Masra replied.

“Well, professor Dachshund is a writer, isn't he?” Tabula said slowly.

Masra and Storm Talon looked at Tabula Rasa for a moment before looking at each other. “That's...” Storm Talon started, “Actually bucking brilliant. Assuming he's not so bucking high he tells them the moon is invading, that could actually work.”

Tabula looked at him in surprise. “Would he actually say that?”

“I once found him running around the city ranting about how a dragon was eating all of the streetlights.” Storm Talon replied. “Guess he mixed up his 'medication' that day.”

“Is such a 'mix-up' likely to happen during this operation?” Masra asked.

Storm shrugged. “Probably not. I hate to say it, by the kid probably has the only workable idea.”

“So,” Masra asked, “Which of us would be better suited to try and convince him to join this endeavor?”

“Convincing him won't be a problem,” Talon replied. “They can't fire him without a real good reason or this risk a equal-opportunity clusterbuck and he's always willing to screw with the board.”

“Then what is the problem?” Masra asked.

“That he should stay,” Talon said with a shrug. “He'd love to go along on this – probably figures it would make a good book or something. We'll need a bucking good reason to convince him to stay.”

“Covering our activities is insufficient?” Masra asked.

“Oh, he'll agree that somebody should stay,” Talon replied. “Just not that it should be him – he'll probably say you should stay.”

“I am the only one capable of ensuring the ship will even reach our destination,” Masra replied. “And you have the necessary aeronautical experience. The reasoning should be clear.”

“Ghoul ain't always big on 'reasoning', Masra.” Talon said with a snort. “Tends to find it boring and inconvenient – in this case, mostly the latter.”

“Well, that settles it then.” Masra rose from her seat. “You shall have to talk to him.”

“What?!” Storm Talon squawked. “Why me?”

“If reason will not persuade him, then I have little leverage.” Masra explained. “You, at least, have your personal relationship to leverage.”

“You want to say that in Equestrian?” Storm Talon asked.

“Um,” Tabula said, “I think she means that the professor trusts you.”

“I bucking knew that,” Storm Talon snapped as he rose from his own chair. “I just wanted to see if I could get her to talk like she didn't have a stick shoved up her ass.”

“You do realize I can hear you, do you not?” Masra asked in a level tone.

“Quite,” Talon replied as he met the president near the door. “So, after you then president?”

Masra gave him a steady gaze before turning and starting out the door. Talon followed after her, Tabula a step behind, as she turned down the hall and started toward Literature department. “I will have to organize my schedule with something to explain my absence, I imagine.”

“Now you're over thinking it,” Talon replied with a huff as he followed behind her. The halls around them were relatively quiet, most of the students currently in class for the moment. “The Board doesn't even pay attention to daily administration most of the time – I mean, you meet with them, what? Once a month?”

“When scheduling permits,” Masra confirmed with a nod. “The board prefer to set long-term goals and leave implementation to myself.”

“So if they aren't going to be looking at you,” Talon continued, “Don't give them a bucking reason too! I thought you were from some sort of special operations bullshit. Surprised you don't get that.”

Masra shrugged. “Very rarely was I the one who had to do the lying.”

The trio came to a stop outside a small office door, the placard that had once identified its owner having vanished, either lost or purposely removed. Masra moved to knock, but Talon beat her to it by simply shoving the door open with a kick.

Ghoul S. Dachshund – professor, writer, eccentric and only Diamond Dog on the teaching staff of any institute of higher education – was sleeping behind his desk. His fisherpony hat was sitting slightly askew, as were his sunglasses due to what looked like a comic book that he was using as an impromptu sleeping mask. Tabula had enough time to notice a pair of large, hairy primate-like beings in fedoras on the cover before Talon yanked it off and tossed it way and began roughly shaking his friend awake. “Up and at em, Ghoul – time to get shit done.”
“Gah-wha-wazzat?” Ghoul flailed for a moment before adjust his sunglasses and staring at the griffon. “Stormington?” He leaned to one side, taking a better look at Masra. “I miss something?”

“A shit-ton, but most of its not important,” Talon replied. “We need you to cover us for a few days and make sure the board doesn't lose their shit.”

“And, uh,” Ghoul asked as he pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit it. “Who is 'we' in this case?”

“That would be me,” Masra supplied as she took a step forward.

Ghoul looked at Masra before turning to his friend. “I take it this is one of the important bits?”

“The girls have gotten themselves into some serious shit,” Storm Talon said succinctly. “The sort of shit that gets good ponies killed when you like red tape handle it.”

“So why are you takin' her!?” Ghoul asked as he waved a paw at Masra. “Let her keep the board busy or whatever.”

“One, this whole thing is her idea,” Talon replied. Masra didn't see how that mattered, but it seemed to give the Diamond Dog pause as his friend continued. “And two, she has something planned.”

Masra grinned, “what makes you think that?”

“I've read your file,” Storm Talon replied, “you know bucking well we're going to need crap not on the ship, QED you have a plan,”

“So, you trust the broad?” Ghoul asked.

“Assuming she's as good as her file claims?” Talon replied with a shrug, “sure.”

“I assure you,” Masra replied with calm confidence, “I am quite capable of backing my claims. I just hope your friend is as capable as you have claimed.”

Ghoul raised an eyebrow high enough to be seen over his sunglasses at that. “Pardon?”

Masra gave a shrug as she dusted off one of the chairs in the cramped office and seated herself on it. “Professor Storm Talon has made a great deal of your...creative talents,” Masra took a look around the small office. Most of the walls were occupied by bookcases and filling cabinets, all haphazardly stuffed and overflowing. A beaten old typewriter sat next to a mess of quills and ink wells, both covered in a mess of papers. “Though I find myself doubting if you are the Dog for the job, as it were.”

Ghoul stared at the president for a long minute before turning to Storm Talon. “You got a plan?”

“She does,” Talon replied as he pointed at Masra with one claw. “More like half of one. Still, all we've got.”
“And the girls are in trouble?” Ghoul asked.

“Big time.” Talon nodded. “You remember Istanbull?” Ghoul nodded. “This is worse.”

“Well, Istanbull wasn't that bad.” Ghoul said with a shrug.

Storm Talon stared at his friend as his head slowly tilted. “You and I remember Istanbull very differently.”

“Uh,” Tabula spoke up hesitantly. “What happened in Istanbull?”

“Are you talking about Istanbull during the war?” Masra asked in surprise. “That was you two?”

“And Daren.” Talon added with a shrug. “If you want a history lesson, go down the bucking hall.” He turned back to Ghoul. “Can you help us or not?”

Ghoul leaned back in his chair with a sigh as he rubbed at his face. “You just need me to make sure the board doesn't catch on, right?” Ghoul shrugged. “I guess I can do that. How hard can covering for two people be?”

“Uh, three actually.” the three of them all turned to look at Tabula Rasa. She just looked back at them in mild confusion. “What? I thought it was obvious I would be coming along.”

Storm Talon's beak clicked softly before he tilted his head back in a room-shaking laugh. “The egghead wants to come along!? This isn't a camping trip, sweetie!”

Tabula gave Storm Talon a sharp glare as she adjusted her glasses. “I will have you know that I am one of the highest evaluated practitioners in the University.”

“You ever been in a fight, sweetheart?” Talon asked levelly. “This isn't some school field trip. If something isn't trying to kill us at some point during this fiassco, I will be very disappointed.”

“I... might not have as much time in the field as Miss Tock or Miss Do,” Tabula replied, “and I will be the first to admit that I prefer to work in...controlled conditions, but if I cannot step out of my comfort zone to help my friends than what sort of friend am I?”

Storm Talon studied her for a moment before his beak clicked together softly. “Your funeral, girl – at least I'll die with somepony other than the Tyrannt over there.”

Masra sighed. “Why must you assume we are going to die?”

Talon shrugged. “Safer that way. So – what's the plan?”