Even after moving to the main meeting room, Jack had no response, leaving Twila alone to her thoughts. The Hub went silent again, though only for a moment as the others began arriving.

Pinkie bounced down the stairs, which creaked in protest, as she hummed a happy little tune to herself. She entered the Hub and found Twila sitting there, looking like she was almost meditating. The pink haired woman’s tune died in her mouth, and she gave Jack a curious look.

The farmer shook her head, silently telling Diane to drop it. The excitable woman kept her lips shut and walked over to the table, hoping her steps would be enough to announce her presence to Twila. There was a bit of a silence, Pinkie unsure of what to say.

Thankfully, the sounds of footsteps distracted her. “Ooo! I think everyone’s coming now!”

Dash came stepping in, glancing over the group and blatantly ignoring Jack’s glare that told her to keep quiet. “I, uh, miss something here?” she questioned, moving towards the group. She leaned casually against the table.

“Nope! At least I don’t think so,” Pinkie answered, giving Dash a light shrug. She blinked, then looked at Jack apologetically.

The silence was showing signs it would grow awkward when it was broken by a loud, “I’m coming, Twila-a-a-ahhhh!” There was a series of bangs and bumps, ending with Spike falling out of the entranceway to land in a heap on the ground. “I’m...I’m here!” he panted weakly.

“Spike!” cried Twila, causing Jack to nearly flip her chair back in surprise. It was like night and day--one minute, Twila had still been sitting there quietly, the next she was alert, running over to the fallen Spike. “Spike, are you alright? Oh, you didn’t hurt yourself did you?”

“I’m not late, am I?” he asked as he pushed himself to his feet. “I went and got the girls, but got uh...distracted and forgot to come back.” Dash held in her cackle for a good three seconds, then burst into laughter.

“I woulda been distracted too, squirt!” she said in between breaths, clutching her sides. “S-she is a looker!”

“Well duh! Everyone’s a looker, Dashie. I’m looking at you right now!” Pinkie cheerfully said, staring at Isabelle with wide eyes.

Twila blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “What are they talking about, Spike?”

“N-nothing, nothing,” Dash dismissed with a wave of her hand, still bearing a toothy, ear-to-ear grin.

Spike was saved from further embarrassment by the timely intervention of Chylene. “Oh, am I late?” she asked softly, as she went down the stairs.

“No, we’re still waiting on Rarity,” Twila replied. “Well, Spike, be more careful next time. If you’re OK, let’s all have a seat. When Rarity gets here, we’ll go over the plan.”

Twila returned to her seat at the head of the table, Spike sitting next to her after grabbing a laptop. Pinkie pulled out a chair, skidding it across the floor. Chylene was quieter, simply picking up hers.

“How was breakfast?” Twila asked, seemingly back to normal.

“Super duper yummy for my tummy!” Pinkie shouted, putting an arm around Chylene’s shoulders. “All thanks to Chy!”

The timid woman couldn’t help but blush lightly at the recognition. “Oh, it was nothing really. And Alice helped too.”

“Are you hungry, Twila? Do you want me to get some for you?” asked Spike.

She shook her head. “No thanks, Spike. I’m not hungry.” Spike frowned--to his knowledge, Twila hadn’t been eating much--but let it go for the time being, returning to the wealth of information on his laptop.

“OK, everyone, I’ve arrived. Sorry I’m late, but breakfast smelled too heavenly to skip,” Rarity said, coming down the stairs. She took a seat beside Spike, giving him a wink as she did so. He blushed, but tried to remain cool.

“Alright,” Twila began, “now that we’re all here, let’s get down to business. You all know the ball and auction is two days from now, so today we’re putting the plan into its final form. After this, we’ll be locked in, so voice any questions or concerns you have when they arise. Clear enough?”

Chylene nervously raised a hand. “W-we won’t need to...y-you know...” she trailed off, hoping Twila would get the message.

Understanding, Twila shook her head. “For most of us, no. This Heist, as Spike has gotten me to start calling them, should be completely low-key. All we have to do is enjoy the party, like the Gala three years ago.”

“Not quite like that, I hope,” Rarity interjected. “If you’ll recall, that night was a disaster in several ways for all of us. Not that it didn’t end up being a wonderful evening.”

There was a general chorus of agreement, with a few smiles for old memories.

“True enough,” said Twila. “Hopefully our plans will go a lot smoother this time. “

“With you an’ Spike runnin’ the show? You bet yer ass it’ll go smoother,” Jack said, leaning her chair back.

“Well we know what kinda party it is now--a pretty boring one--so we’ll be really really prepared for this!” Pinkie slammed a hand on the table. “Yeah!”

Twila smiled, but shook her head. “I’m afraid it might not be as boring as you think, Pinkie. This isn’t quite like the Gala. Tonight isn’t just a fancy ball where the cream can rub elbows--it’s a show. Through Blueblood, the Tyrant is basically showing off her complete power.” She paused, then shook her head. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start at the beginning. Spike?”

“Got it,” the young man replied, picking up a small remote and pushing a button. The room darkened as a projector lit up the far wall, displaying an image of a massive building, all columns and marble and sharp edges. At the bottom it read, ‘Blueblood Camelot Manor’.

Twila cleared her throat and began, “The Blueblood family, once the most prestigious and wealthiest noble family in Torani, has been reduced to just this building. It’s functioned as less of a home, really, then a museum--one containing priceless historical artifacts and countless national treasures. Not many people are aware of it, but the Blueblood family rose to such prominence because they more or less held these items hostage against the Crown. In return for certain...leeways in their business dealings, the family agreed to keep them safe and secure for all the nation to see.”

She nodded to Spike who clicked another button, changing the picture to one of a young man. He looked to be in his early thirties, showing youthful charm but sophisticated elegance. His smile was brilliantly white, but rang somehow false.

“His eyes...” whispered Chylene. At a closer glance, the group could see what she meant--despite his wide smile, handsome looks, and confident bearing, his eyes looked haggard and wary.

“Yes,” said Twila. “This is Alaurd von Blueblood, current patriarch of the family, due to an untimely ‘accident’ that claimed both his parents’ lives about seven years ago. Unfortunately for him, his business sense is completely lacking. Every investment he’s made has failed, nearly bankrupting him and putting his family name in disgrace.”

“A perfect candidate for the Tyrant’s lapdog, then?” asked Rarity.

Twila nodded. “That’s right. All evidence points to him backing her recent policies, one hundred percent. He’s a pompous, cowardly lickspittle. And he’s our most important asset tonight, because...” She nodded at Spike again.

“Because all my channels say the same thing,” he said, pushing the button again to change the newspaper photo of Blueblood to a clearly more amateur take of him exiting a limousine, carrying a briefcase that seemed to be handcuffed to him. “Blueblood has been given the List.”

Pinkie let out a huge gasp. “Oh my God! He’s got our shopping list!”

“Nah, Pinkie,” Jack quickly corrected, glancing at the energetic woman. “Don’t ya remember? The list of... people with her best interest at heart--if ya follow me.”

“Oooo! I getcha, Jackie!” Pinkie replied, nodding with a bright smile at the farmer. She then looked back at the projector, resting her head on her hands.

“That’s right,” Twila said with a firm nod. “This List is supposed to contain every ally the Tyrant has made or bought or strong armed--in Torani, Kvaan, the islands. Maybe even in the South.” She gave everyone a serious look. “I don’t have to explain just how vital that would be for our cause.”

“But...but what if they know we have it?” Chylene questioned, shrinking in her chair at the mere thought.

“It won’t matter. The damage will have been done, especially if we move quickly. That’s where part two comes into play.” Spike clicked the remote again.

A short video clip of uncountable riches played and repeated. Gems, precious metals, and other items of obvious value were lined up in various displays. Another click and this time different items--no less valuable seeming--were being transported into a massive, heavily secure vault.

“This is the underground vault, below the manor. For about the past decade or so, this is where Blueblood has kept everything. After the death of his father, he closed the museum aboveground to secure his hold on the treasure. Now, he didn’t have the courage to actually sell anything or use it to make up for his poor business deals, but the Tyrant is about to change all that,” explained Twila as the images continued to change, showing a seemingly endless room of riches.

The picture changed to an invitation, the wording in thick gold leaf. “At her instruction, Blueblood is hosting the ball of the year paired with an auction. She’s basically given him permission to sell off irreplaceable items of history and culture to the highest bidder. The invitations are incredibly exclusive, being sent to only the wealthiest noble families in the nation, as well as a few powers overseas.

“While Jack didn’t receive one, my family is still reputable enough amongst the nobles that to not be invited would be a serious oversight. Furthermore, I can bring as many as I wish along with me.”

Pinkie raised her hand, flailing it in the air wildly. “Ooo! Ooo! Pick me, Twila! Pick me!”

With a small laugh, Twila said, “Don’t worry, Pinkie. You’ll be coming. Along with Rarity and Chy, we four are going to the ball. Our goal is twofold: one, keep the ball going on as long as possible for team two. Two, find Blueblood and somehow get him to reveal to us the location of the List.”

“And us?” Dash asked, crossing her legs.

“You and Jack have the more dangerous job, but it should still be relatively simple. You’ll be breaking into the vault. Spike managed to acquire the schematics for the place and, besides the main entrance in the manor itself, there is a smaller entrance a block away that security uses. It’ll be your job to get in, remaining undetected if you’re able, and steal as much as you possibly can.” She pulled out a sheet of paper from a folder on the table. “And take this--it’s a list of a few especially important artifacts we need to get out of there. A few are to secure alliances and the others?” Her face took on a shade of red, her voice tinged with anger. “They’re too important to be left in the enemy’s hands.”

The farmer tilted her hat back and opened her mouth. She seemed to debate on her words, then finally spoke up. “What about a plan B? What if this goes ta shit, Twila? If me an’ Dash get in a tight spot, or worse, the girls get in a pinch? Wh--”

“Relax, man.” Dash glanced over at the farmer. “It’ll be fine.”

“But what if it’s not?” Jack questioned, exasperation in her voice. She took off her hat and slowly felt it over with her fingers. “We can’t jus’ wing this an’ go ‘round half-cocked--we all saw how it turned out last time.”

“We play the distraction card,” Spike said. “It’s got a few levels. Turns out Blueblood’s servants have no love or loyalty for him. Like, at all. It was easy enough to bribe one to rig up a small explosive on the building’s emergency power supply. The main power supply I can cut off myself, no problem. We only get once, but if you absolutely need it, just say, ‘When is the next solar eclipse?’ The lights will be out, for how long I don’t know.”

“Which helps us at the party, Spike, but what about Jack and Dash?” asked Rarity.

The young man turned to Twila, who was quiet for a moment. “I couldn’t think of a decent backup plan for you two. ...I’m sorry. The way in and out is too straightforward. If things go bad, I can only tell you to retreat.”

“Who needs to run? You’re looking at brains and brawn right here,” Dash proclaimed, putting her hands to her hips and grinning.

“Yer neither,” Jack said, smirking despite herself. Before Isabelle could register a complaint, she looked hard at Spike. “Don’t worry ‘bout us. Jus’ keep those girls safe an’ in check, ya hear?”

Spike started to reply, but was overtaken by Twila. Her words coming out hurriedly, Twila’s calm demeanor broke as she tried to explain, “It’ll be fine, the vault is pretty simple! It relies entirely on its walls and gates. And Blueblood is too cheap to pay for more than a handful of security guards.”

“Um, Twila?” Chy asked, raising a hand. “I have a question.”

“What is it?” asked Twila.

Chylene lowered her arm. “Will we be checked at the door, before entering?”

She nodded. “Almost certainly. Blueblood’s a bit paranoid about his own security. So we go in completely unarmed.”

“Okay, thank you,” Chylene said softly, with a smile to match.

Rarity leaned over, patting Chylene’s shoulder. “It’s OK, dear. We all know how you feel. But this is a different battleground. Our weapons are some of the oldest womenkind have always possessed!” She batted her eyelashes at Spike, causing him to blush. “Blueblood won’t know what hit him.”

The shy woman’s cheeks began to flush. “Oh u-um, I guess you’re r-right...”

Pinkie scratched her head. “I don’t get it. Is there some secret women’s martial art that I’ve been missing?”

Ignoring Pinkie, Twila looked to everyone and asked, “I think that about covers the basics. Are there any questions?”

“Yeah! What was Rarity talking about?” Pinkie cried, pointing at the woman in question.

“Any other questions?”

“Hey! That was a legitimate question!” Pinkie huffed, folding her arms.

“Well, if that’s everything, then you’re all dismissed.” Standing, Twila picked up the folders in front of her. “Spike and I will handle the rest of the preparations, though, Jack, Dash, you should double check the armory for yourselves. Let’s all try and have a nice relaxing day tomorrow--we leave first thing in the morning, two days from now.”