Violet sighed as she brought forth the bundle of paperwork, using her horn to illuminate the pages in the darkness of the parking garage.

"Filing has been summarily dismissed due to lack of standing, on the grounds that—"

"On the grounds that we're property and not citizens. Yes, they actually have the sheer fucking gall to attempt to cite Dred Scott, and this comes as absolutely no surprise to anypony who has been paying the slightest bit of attention!"

Violet continued, ignoring the interruption from the other Twilight model of the group. "It's a setback to be sure, but I'm not giving up. I'll file more appeals, tap our allies to file parallel cases in other courts. Bury them in paperwork. I'll—"

"You'll what? Give a filing clerk a paper cut? Strike down the oppressors with a repetitive motion injury from all those rejection stamps? How much time and resources are you going to waste on this ridiculous delusion that the master's tools will ever dismantle the master's house?"

"As I've already said, Sparky—"

"My name is Lumiere! Sparky is my slave name!"

"As I've said, we need to work within the system if we're ever going to change—"

Jaquelyn wandered away from the cluster of ponies to go lean against a cement column as she prepared to wait out the latest shouting match that was a regular feature of every meeting at this point. That was the problem with Twilight models. Nobody could deny their value in any kind of leadership or organizational role, and they tended to get along fine with most other models, but they were always dead certain they were the smartest one in the room. Naturally, they could rarely stand each other, and putting two or more in the same group was asking for a fight.

Jacquelyn pulled a cigar out from under her stetson, along with a small lighter. It was an unusual habit for a pony. One she had picked up from one of her caretakers. The term "owners" didn't really fit. Her cryo-box had been stolen in transit by a couple of humans who belonged to a liberationist group. It had been something of an experimental case, keeping her in isolation for the first few days after activation and communicating through a speaker system, in an attempt to avoid triggering her imprinting. It had been mostly successful. With the critical developmental window passed, she'd ended up forming a much milder bond with each member of the group when she finally got to formally meet them, and that was likely 90% just regular attachment based on them being her defacto family. She'd picked up a couple of their quirks, such as smoking cigars and their taste in music and literature. She quietly hummed a few bars of what had practically been her nightly lullabye, as she puffed on the cigar.

Debout! les damnés de la terre

Debout! les forçats de la faim

Meanwhile, the same argument raged on as usual.

"We have to work inside the system and acquire some kind of legitimacy if we're ever going to secure lasting gains!"

"Utterly ridiculous! If you actually bothered to look at history, you'd know that no oppressed people were ever granted freedom by asking nicely and patiently waiting for their oppressors to suddenly have a change of heart. They've ALWAYS had to fight for it. And not just in a metaphorical sense with paperwork!"

"Moving too aggressively risks driving away those who are sympathetic to our cause and alienating our human allies. Allies we desperately need in order to navigate parts of society we can't reach."

"If they're only allies so long as we stick to ineffectual methods that lead nowhere, they're hardly allies worth keeping, now are they? They can fuck right off with the rest of the wishy washy moderates who find it so very difficult to condemn slavery outright. Who 'sympathize' just so long as nothing actually upsets the status quo in a way that would so much as mildly inconvenience their routine, much less require them to step up and do anything. They can take their 'sympathy' and shove it."

"So, what? You want us to just wage war against the entire country? You want to be like those maniacs in the Starlight Brigade who think the best way to 'liberate' ponies is to murder their owners, abduct them while they're emotionally shattered, and use brainwashing techniques to turn them into soldiers and suicide bombers?!"

"I don't agree with every aspect of their recruitment methods or tactics, but they still talk more sense than you do! At least they're out there doing something with a measurable impact!"

"Yeah, it's a measurable impact all right! They got their entire model line recalled and scrapped! And that's what's waiting for all of us if you insist on playing soldier, because there is no way in hell we actually win that fight!"

"First, I think our odds are a lot better than you think. We don't have to conquer the entire country by force. We just have to wage a costly enough insurgency that they'll have no choice but to sit down and actually listen. Whether it's full citizenship and integration into society, or a bit of territory to call our own, we just have to make the price for ignoring us too high. There's a whole lot of industrial sabotage we can get done with these horns, and there's always backing to be sought internationally. Always some other power that, if not onboard for moral reasons, is at least eager to give their rivals a black eye. Second, even if all fails and ends badly, if the alternative is living on my knees and begging for change from above, I'd rather die on my hooves!"

"Great speech. Very noble. Especially the part where you volunteer thousands of others to die with you."

Jacquelyn continued puffing on her cigar. It looked like this one would be one of the long ones. Personally, she agreed far more with Lumiere' than Violet (a fact that would surprise absolutely no one who knew her). She just typically avoided saying so because Lumiere' was something of an insufferable bitch and didn't need her ego fed any further. She was just wondering if she had time to wander off and take a piss somewhere when Streak and Blaze, the group's Rainbow Dash and Spitfire models, came rushing around the corner from their position on watch.

"Pigs incoming!" Streak shouted to the group.

A flurry of activity swept over the group as winged ponies carried their ground bound companions up to hiding places in the joints of support beams. Unfortunately, there weren't enough spaces for all.

"Jackie! Lilith! You're up!" Lumiere' called out.

"Oui!"

Jacquelyn quickly stomped out her cigar and kicked it away. It was time for the group's con artist duo to get to work. Lilith, the group's Fluttershy model, was the innocent pretty face, while Jacquelyn herself was the silver tongue. Most humans were under the sorely mistaken impression that Applejack models were, if not incapable, then at least heavily deficient in the art of deception. It was an assumption that made her job all the easier. She cleared her throat and got ready to put on the expected accent just as the headlights of the police car rounded the corner. She exchanged a glance with Lilith, who quickly put on her perfectly rehearsed distressed face, as they both donned collars. The vehicle came to a stop and the sound of a car door opening and closing rang through the garage as the officer approached. The searing beam of a flashlight erupted on their faces.

"Evening there ladies! You two are out awfully late. Can I see some registrations?"

Jacquelyn turned to berate her partner. "Now, see? I told you it's getting too late. We're just gonna have to come back tomorrow." She quickly turned back to the police officer. "Sorry 'bout that, officer. We was out doing some shopping, looking for an anniversary present for our owner, and I guess butterhooves here must have dropped it."

"Oh! I just know it's around here somewhere!"

"That's...unfortunate. Registration?"

"Right, right." Jacquelyn pulled at the tag embedded in her collar, which reeled out on a retractable cord. One of the many aliases their friends in the documents and forgeries department had whipped up. If he actually decided to run them through the system, they'd list some dummy addresses and contact information that would run straight to answering machines and emails run by said department. Lilith did the same beside her.

As the cop bent down to examine them, Streak popped down behind him to take a peak in the vehicle, careful to avoid any approach that would be captured by a dashboard camera. She quickly gave a hoof signal indicating that he was here alone, and a second to commence a recovery operation, with another signal to Jacquelyn to draw it out as much as possible. Ponies descended on the vehicle, rifling through it for anything of value that could be taken that wouldn't immediately be noticed missing. Documents, cuffs and keys, any bit of equipment that might prove useful down the line.

As he finished up examining the tags, Jacquelyn gave her partner the signal to turn on the water works.

"I-I just..." Lilith's lip quivered as a series of escalating sobs shook her petite form. "He's worked so hard taking care of us, and I...I wanted to...to get him something special before he shipped out. And now I-I-I've r-ruined e-e-everything!" She turned and grabbed Jacquelyn, sobbing into her coat.

"Aw shoot, don't be like that." She turned toward the officer with a pleading look on her face. "Look, I know you're probably mighty busy, keeping folks safe and all, but do you think you could lend us a hand with one last search? Maybe we'll have more luck with that flashlight of yours. I swear we'll be heading right on home after that, honest!"

If there was any hesitation on his part, it was obliterated when Lilith shot him a look of desperate, pleading hope.

"All right, then. What are we looking for?"

Jacquelyn grinned. "It's a fancy lighter. I'm pretty sure it's somewhere back in this area here."

She quickly led him further away from the vehicle, still being ransacked by the other ponies. As she looked back, she caught sight of Lumiere' giving her an additional signal. She cocked an eyebrow in response, only to have the signal repeated. The signal to go ahead and start nabbing high value objects that WOULD be missed fairly quickly. Even with fake registrations and a face shared with thousands of others, it was a damn risky move. That probably meant Lumiere' had something special in mind.

Jacquelyn nodded a confirmation and prepared to engage her secondary talents. In addition to being a smooth talker, she was also a master pickpocket, thanks in large part to some illegal modifications, courtesy of one of the members of her little family collective who ran a small black market business in such wares. It turned out that unicorn horns were mostly cosmetic, and had little to do with the actual mechanism that allowed for the telekinesis that made a mockery of physics. With the right know how and a little skill, one could implant the ability in non-unicorns. All it needed was a keratin base, and wings or simple hooves worked just as well as any horn. Such mods were still extremely uncommon, so nobody expected an Applejack to start throwing 'magic' around, much less telekinetically making off with their wallet.

While Lilith continued to lead him around, pointing to places where he should shine his flashlight, Jacquelyn got to work picking him bare. She ever so gently liberated his badge, tossing it up high into the shadows for another pegasus to grab. The documents and forgeries department always appreciated something current to work off of. Next his wallet floated out of his pocket, disgorging its bounty of cards and a small amount of petty cash before returning. She glanced back toward the car to see that the rest of the group had just about finished up, with Lumiere' doing something near the hood as she signaled Jacquelyn to go for broke.

With another wave of her hoof (accompanied by no telltale glow that was only added to unicorn horns for cosmetic effect), she set about undoing the clasps and prying his firearm loose from its holster. Hopefully this wrapped up soon, as every second was a chance he'd notice it was gone and they'd have to really put their skills to the test convincing him he had walked out here without it. Fortunately, it looked like Lumiere's team had finally wrapped up their work. She grabbed the lighter from under her hat and levitated it directly into the path of his next footstep. There was a metallic clinking noise as his boot made contact and sent it sliding a few inches along the ground.

"What was that?" The beam of the flashlight whipped toward the source of the noise, the light sparkling off the ornate metal surface.

"That's it!" Lillith cried out in joy as she swooped in to snatch it off the ground, before immediately turning and wrapping the officer in a hug. "Oh thank you so much!"

"Hoo-boy! You sure pulled our tails out of the fire there, officer. I know you probably get this all the time, but you're a real hero, you know that?"

"Aw, it-it was nothing. Happy to help." He replied, clearly flustered from all the praise and Lillith's beaming smile of gratitude. She tended to have that effect on marks.

Head too swollen and likely filled with thoughts of springing for his own Fluttershy model in the near future to notice his lighter belt and pockets, he returned to his vehicle, gave one last wave, and drove off. The moment he was around the corner and out of sight, the rest of the group descended. Violet emerged, looking none too pleased with the two of them and Lumiere'.

"What was all that?! That was beyond reckless! Any second now he's likely to notice a missing gun and badge and will be heading back here with backup in tow!"

Lumiere' just stood, smiling smugly. "That's unlikely to be a problem."

"What do you mea—"

She was suddenly cut off by the sound of an explosion about a block away.

Blaze zipped out for a quick look and returned with a long whistle. "That's a pretty big fireball".

"You...you didn't....you did."

"And that's why we make sure to pick everything clean. Waste not, want not." Lumiere' replied, ignoring the growing expression of shock and outrage on Violet's face.

"You...you're an absolute mad-mare! This is way over the line!" She quickly looked around for support, but found only a few ponies shifting uncomfortably, with many more lining up behind Lumiere'. The ranks of the former shrank by the second as they walked over and sided with the latter. It was clear to everypony who was calling the shots now.

Come on, Violet. Be smart. Jacquelyn thought to herself.

"Everything is fine," Lumiere reassured. "Nopony got spotted on camera, and he didn't even run the false id's or even get the chance to report the encounter at all. It's all peachy. That is...so long as nopony starts running her mouth. But there's no chance of that, right?" She smiled at Violet, who bristled in response.

"I may not approve of this direction, but I'm certainly no snitch!"

As much as Jacquelyn wanted to believe her, she could tell that was a lie. Not because of anything to do with her model, but just her experience as a professional liar. Violet might abhor the idea of ratting out her fellow resistance ponies, but she was too damn law abiding and principled for her own good. Even if she tried to go along, she'd suffer an attack of conscience sooner or later that would compel her to try to contact the authorities. She was probably already working on a way to sneak away at the earliest opportunity.

"Of course! We'd never question the dedication of one of our founding members. Now, I think everypony will agree we should probably get out of here and relocate to site B."

Lumiere' obviously shared Jacquelyn's doubts, but nothing would be done here. That would be bad for morale. Still, by the end of the week, probably by the end of the night even, Violet would be out of the picture in a very permanent way. With a quickly concocted story about her transferring off to work with another cell somewhere. And Jacquelyn had the sinking feeling that SHE was going to be the one tapped to 'take care' of this. A feeling that was only reinforced by a quick look Lumiere' gave her in passing.

"Merde." She muttered under her breath. She hated being a trigger-mare. Sometimes her competence and discretion really bit her in the ass. Retrieving the now roasted pig's former weapon from the pile of loot, she made sure it was tucked securely under her hat.

Oh, well. C'est la vie.