Spike was alone in the Hub when midnight rolled around. It hardly bothered the young man to stay up late, though he’d need to catch up in a day or so. He rubbed at his eyes; lack of sleep wasn’t bothering him, but the constant glare of computer screens was taking its toll on his eyes.

“Really need to get out more,” he said, remembering his last look at a scale had said he’d been gaining weight lately. He’d asked Twila about it, but she’d been too nice and said he didn’t look much different.

She’d also told him to get to sleep early tonight. Yet here he was, alone, watching and listening to a half dozen computer screens. Some showed footage--security cameras and news programs forefront--and some simply displayed audiograms tuned into police and military radio. One displayed his only channel to his overseas contacts, including the mercenaries they wanted to hire for use against the Tyrant. The flat line showed silence. Which wasn’t a surprise.

The sound of a door closing made him jump, nearly causing him to fall out of his chair. Slamming his hand on a remote on the desk, the room’s lights turned on, illuminating the intruder.

“Hey, Spike,” said Twila. She lifted a steaming, purple mug--his favorite--and asked, “Tea?”

“Oh! Twila, it’s you.” He sighed. “Yeah, tea sounds good. Thanks!”

She rolled a chair next to his, handing him the mug as she took a small sip of her own. Spike licked his lips and gulped down half the mug with a sound of satisfaction.

“Ah! Blueberry green, that’s good stuff!”

Twila giggled. “I still don’t know how you can do that, Spike. It’s like hot things don’t even bother you.”

The young man shrugged, taking a more reserved sip of his tea. He went back to staring at the monitors, not saying a word.

“So.”

He looked at her.

“You’re still awake?”

He nodded. “I’m just too used to this now, I guess.”

She put a hand to his arm. “Well next time, tell me, Spike. You’ve pulled enough all-nighters for my sake over the years. The least I can do is keep you company, even if I can’t actually help.”

Another nod, followed by a sip of tea. The two friends sat together in silence for a long while.

“Hey, Spike?”

Tilting his head, Spike replied, “Mmhmm?”

“That one at the bottom left--isn’t that from your contacts in the islands?”

His eyes widening, Spike spat out the sip of tea he had been taking, letting the mug drop. Twila just barely managed to catch it before it hit the concrete floor “That’s a lot of activity! Where’d it all come from?” He began typing commands on the screen, then he flipped a pair of switches. A low buzz filled the room. “The signal from the Ghost Rim is so picky--I always have to readjust to find it again.” He pulled an expensive headset to one of his ears, using his other hand to turn a dial carefully.

The buzzing intensified, becoming higher pitched before breaking into nearly understandable babble. Flipping a few more switches, Spike went to a smaller knob, turning it even more slowly. The mass of voices slowed down, the background static clearing.

“What on earth is going on down there, Spike?” asked Twila, her curiosity peaked.

“I don’t know. I’ve almost got this signal cleared up. Just a little...ah! Got it!”

Though it was mostly clear, Twila still had to listen very carefully to understand anything. A dozen or more voices were yelling and screaming over top of one another.

“What is all that, Spike?”

The young man continued to carefully adjust dials, flip switches, and constantly monitor the audiogram registering the broadcasts. “It’s a pirate channel. They’ve all got their own, of course, but sometimes they need to talk to each other. I’d say...about eight or nine ships are in on this. Sounds like they’re taking a beating from someone. Here, I’ll isolate one.”

After a few more adjustments, Spike moved the headset’s jack to another console, then handed them to Twila. “Here you go. Listen to that.”

Placing the bulky set over her own ears, Twila listened. It was a woman’s voice, to her surprise.

“--don’t give a searat’s ass who they be, just get in there an’ kill ‘em all! What?! Royal guard? With the black crest? Oi, Grinket, I think ye’ve gone soft in the skull!”

“And this one,” said Spike with another button push.

A male’s voice, rough but scared sounding, said, “I’m telin’ ye! It’s ‘er! The bloody Nightmare Knight ‘erself, I swears it! Ye heard the rumors, same as me--she bein’ exiled with ‘er personal guard and naught much else but a leaky old warship.”

Twila took off the headset, her eyes just as wide as Spike’s. She breathed, “It’s Luna--it’s Princess Luna, Spike! She’s in the Ghost Rim! She’s still alive.”

“Wait, Twila, put the headset back on! You’ll want to hear this.”

She did and then, to her amazement, Luna’s voice came over the radio. Even now, it sent shivers down Twila’s spine--it was so sure, so firm, with an intensity that struck harder and louder than if she had simply yelled. And so cold. It didn’t so much communicate the princess’ will as make a promise of it. What she said would come to pass, no matter what the world had to say about it.

“Thieves, murderers, and scoundrels, hear me! I am Luna Aldis Orlaith, exiled but still sovereign Princess of Torani. For your crimes and treason I prescribe only two choices: lay down your arms and be bound by true justice, or your lives, forfeited to the Creator above. This night is mine, as all are. I encourage your wisdom, though you have shown little enough in your existence so far. I will have your answers. What say you?!”

Though there was a pause, when the replies came they made Twila blanch. She had thought Dash had a rough tongue on her, but obviously the athlete had a lot to learn.

“So be it,” the princess said, her voice tinged with obvious regret--and just a hint of eagerness. “Captain Shields, give the order.”

“Aye, milady,” said a strong, male voice. Twila knew that voice, knew it as sure as she knew her own.

“B-big Brother?” she whispered.

“Isn’t it great, Twila?” Spike cheered. “He’s alive! Exiled to the Ghost Rim fighting pirates, but Lew’s alive!” Jumping up from his chair, the youth began dancing around the room. “I told you, Twila! Nothing can stop your brother. No siree, nothing and no one can touch Lewellyn Shields, Captain of the Royal Guard!”

Spike was so ecstatic, and Twila so surprised, that neither of them managed to notice Alice listening in from the top of the stairs, crouched down, eyes wide at the revelation.

Spike danced on for a moment longer before noticing Twila hadn’t moved a muscle. She sat there, her brother’s voice being relayed to her through the headset. He was giving orders as he always did--quickly, confidently. Then there was a loud screech of feedback, followed by static. Throwing the headset down, Twila turned to Spike. “Fix it! Fix the signal, Spike! Hurry hurry hurry!”

“OK, OK! Hold on.” Sitting down, he went through the process of finding the signal again as fast as he could. But try as he might, the only sound that could be heard was static. Thumping his monitor in frustration, Spike said, “It’s no good. I can’t get anything. It’s the damn Rim acting up again.”

Falling to her knees, Twila sniffed as the tears started falling. “So close but so damn far! It’s not fair, Spike! Get him back... Get my brother back!”

“I’m sorry, Twila but... I can’t,” he said quietly, causing another wave of tears to flow from the distraught woman.

“It was him, Spike! It was my brother, alive!”

He got up again, taking a knee beside her. Gently, he placed a hand on her back. Smiling, he said, as cheerfully as he could, “It was him, alright. Doing what he always does.” He waited for her to look up at him, then he winked. “Being a hero? Saving the day? Protecting Que--uh, Princess and Country?”

Though still crying, Twila managed a small smile and nodded.

“Yeah!” Spike exclaimed. “And he’s with Princess Luna. Those pirates are history. She’s just letting him take care of it so as not to hurt his pride. You remember how upset he gets when he thinks he’s not doing his job.” At that Twila couldn’t help but laugh. She remembered all too well some of the incidents in the past. Her brother was often too serious for his own good.

“Spike--this changes everything!” she finally managed to say. “We never knew what happened to Luna, all those months ago. She’d be invaluable in helping us remove the Tyrant! If we could find her, bring her back ...”

“I know what you mean,” Spike said. “But it’s not that easy. It’d probably take weeks to figure out exactly where she is. Not to mention getting the right sort of boat, equipment, and crew to sail to the Ghost Rim. And that costs money we just don’t have!”

“I don’t care, Spike!” Twila cried. “Lew’s down there, and I’m bringing him home.” She lightly pushed Spike away, getting to her feet and heading for the door. Alice flinched, preparing to flee.

“And the plan? The girls? You’re just going to leave, right now, completely ignoring the fact that they’re all depending on you?” Spike called after her, stopping her in her tracks.

Her shoulders hunched, and she grabbed her arms and pulled herself in tight. She clenched her jaw, begging the tears to stay back. “I-it’s my brother, Spike! My brother! What do you want from m-me?”

“You know I miss him, too, Twi. We all do, and, yeah, you most of all. But think about what he’d tell you right now. Really think like Lew.”

She tried to think, but her brain felt like mush. No, it felt like stone. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of anything but her brother’s voice. Had he sounded tired? Exhausted. Had he sounded scared? Just a bit, he was so good at not letting it show.

But he’d also sounded completely sure of himself. He’d accepted his liege’s orders without question or regret. Lew always knew his duty, seeing it through to the end no matter what it took. But he was so strong...

And I’m so weak! Twila cried to herself. If you were here, Lew, you’d know what to do!

But that was the point, wasn’t it? Lew did know what to do--he was doing it right now. Fighting for his Princess, fulfilling his duty for her, for himself, and for his country.

Could she ever face him if she didn’t do the same?

“I...” she began. Spike looked at her with hopeful eyes. She turned, her face a mess but her smile fierce, “I’m going to save my brother, Spike. I’m going to bring him back.” Spike’s face fell. “But.” His eyebrows raised. “But first we’re going to rob Blueblood and his puppetmaster blind. We’ve got a job to do, Number One Assistant. But for now, let’s get some sleep. We’ll tell the others in the morning.”

Pumping a fist in triumph, Spike yelled, “Yeah!” Dashing forward to catch up, the two exited the Hub, excitedly talking about the stories they’d have for Lew when next they saw him.

Shortly afterwards, Alice quickly crept out of the Hub, heading back to bed. This eavesdrop session was very...interesting for her.

“Hey, guys--we’ve got some incredible news!” Spike exclaimed, flipping a pancake. It was nearly noon, but they’d all slept the morning in. Everyone was in evidence for brunch--though Macintosh and Alice hadn’t shown up quite yet--and they all turned to Twila excitedly. She simply smiled and nodded.

“You finally got some chocolate sauce for the pancakes?!” Pinkie asked, bouncing up and down in her chair excitedly.

“Ew, gross. And no,” Spike said, grimacing. His face lit up again when he said, “Lew’s alive!”

Diane’s jaw almost hit the table. “That isn’t incredible news! That’s...super duper awesome amazing fantastic news!!”

The farmer furrowed her brow, looking hard at Spike. “Honest-ta-God?” She grinned, her mouth threatening to take over her entire jaw. “That’s great, sugar!”

“I’ll say!” Rarity said. “I know if I had lost my little Sweetie... Well, it must be a huge relief for you, Twila.”

Chylene put a hand on her chest, sighing in relief. “Oh that’s wonderful, I’m so glad he’s safe.” She looked at Twila, giving her a very sweet smile. “You must be so happy!”

She returned the smile, though her eyes showed it was a little forced. “Mostly. I’ll admit, it’s a little hard to hear at this point. I had a lot of thinking to do last night on tomorrow’s mission.”

“What do you mean?” Chylene questioned softly.

“Spike intercepted some radio broadcasts.” Twila paused. “From the Ghost Rim.”

“The Ghost Rim? Shiiiit,” Dash trailed off, shaking her head. “Can’t say I envy the bastard.”

“Yeah, it’s one of the roughest places on the planet, that’s for sure,” said Spike, this time cracking a few eggs into a different skillet. “But still, it’s not just him. He’s apparently leading the personal guard of Princess Luna--seems they were all exiled down there.”

Twila continued. “It’s the most logical place. Luna is the Tyrant’s number one threat. Sending her anywhere else gives her allies, soldiers, supplies. The Ghost Rim might well kill her--and my brother, too.” She shook her head. “I want to call tomorrow off, at least for me, and stage a rescue right away.”

The group shared a glance with one another. Seeing this, Twila waved her hands rapidly. “But I’m not! I know Lew can handle himself, Luna even more so. And this is a once in a lifetime opportunity--it’s our duty to stay the course and complete our mission. Then we can work on getting the Princess and her guard back.”

“Are you sure, Twila?” Rarity asked, her tone gentle. “We’d understand if you--”

The sound of heavy footsteps briskly running down the flight of stairs nearby interrupted any further conversation. Mac, Jack’s large beast of a brother, came stumbling into the kitchen, his eyes looking with a quiet desperation towards the women seated at the table.

“I can’t find Alice,” he bluntly said.

Jack snorted, taking a bite out of her pancake. “Well, she is that age, Mac.”

“Yeah,” Dash agreed. “Hell, when I was her age, I’d be out all night climbing roofs and shit. Girl’s probably just out with some friends.” Her smirk widened. “Or maybe with a boy.”

“Or a girl,” Pinkie added. Dash gave a casual shrug, suggesting it was a possibility.

Macintosh blanched. He didn’t want to think of the family’s baby out doing things like that. “Ya really think...?”

Chylene coughed quietly. “I’m sure she’s just with Stephanie and Sarah, in their clubhouse.”

The big man shook his head. “Nope, checked there. Called their homes, too.”

“What about Sweet Tooth Lane? Maybe she went to get a milkshake?” Jack offered.

“I can go check there! I have to look after the twins anyways!” Pinkie announced, nodding her head.

“Or hell, the library even.” The farmer glanced over at Twila. “You got an assistant workin’ it today, right? Maybe she’s there gettin’ a book on somethin’--she’s a bigger reader than the rest of the family.”

“I’ll go give him a call, be right back,” Twila said, leaving to the other room.

The giant man was fidgeting with his hands, obviously nervous. Though he was a tough son of a gun, anything involving the youngest member of the family made him nothing but frayed nerves. It was a nightmare when she wanted to learn how to ride a bike.

“Go ta the livin’ room. Sit,” Jack instructed, rising from the table and putting a hand at his arm.

“But--”

“Jus’ do it,” the blonde countered, giving his back a motivating slap. He glanced at her and nodded, stumbling into the living room. Jack shook her head, smiling slightly. “Big lummox is such a worrywart.”

“Coming from you I find that cute,” Isabelle stated, crossing her hands behind her head, leaning the chair she sat in on its two back legs and looking with one eye towards the farmer.

It wasn’t but a moment later that they heard him cry out.

“Jack!” Macintosh bellowed from the living room, the action shocking Dash enough that she jerked back, toppling the chair over and landing on the floor with a thud. “Get yer fuckin’ ass in here!” he roared. Isabelle and Jack shared another glance. The giant hardly ever swore, or even raised his voice unless things were really wrong.

The two women were first on their feet, but after their own shared looks, the rest soon followed, Spike moving his omelette off the heat. They found Twila already on the couch, Mac standing near the coffee table, an uncrumpled piece of paper in his hand. He was doing his best to straighten it out.

“What ya got there?” Jack asked, giving a small nod of her head at the paper the man held. Mac didn’t turn to face her. He took a heavy breath and held it out to the blonde.

Jack looked down and read the note.

Guys;

I’m sorry. I can’t just sit around anymore. I’ve gotta help. I promise I’ll be back with Luna before you know it.

Love you all.
-Alice

“...Son of a bitch,” Jack quietly snarled.

“What?” Dash asked.

“Alice. Goin’ by this note, she’s headin’...headin’ fer Luna.” Jack swallowed. “Shit.”

Pinkie gasped quietly, staying silent. Until she saw the notepad on the coffee table. “Ooo! My drawings!” She picked up the notepad, looking at the front page. “Haha, I look funny as a pony!” She giggled delightfully, enamoured by her ‘art’.

The giant of a man crossed his arms, wordlessly glaring daggers down at the pink-haired woman. He scowled--another gesture Jack wasn’t used to seeing on the normally easy going man. Combined with his height, it radiated displeasure--and promised more.

Rarity moved next to Pinkie, using her eyes to explain how inappropriate Pinkie was being. The energetic woman looked between the two and her face quickly became crestfallen. “I was just--I was--no...I’m sorry.” She dropped the notepad, backing off to Chylene. “But she might still be in town and she’s really really tough so she’s probably fine!” Pinkie finished and went silent, fidgeting uncomfortably with her hands. Chylene put an arm around her in order to give her some comfort.

Macintosh sighed and looked at the women. “I’ll head ta town. Search around.”

“Oh, please hurry, Mac,” Chylene said, looking at the big man with pleading eyes.

Twila stood and gestured to the entire group. “We’ll all go. Mansfield isn’t huge, but it’s bigger than one person. With all of us, we’ll cover more of the town in one sweep.”

“Then let’s get crackin’,” Dash announced, gesturing back out to the kitchen and subsequently, the front door. “Time’s ticking.”

“Spike, I want you to stay here. Someone has to be here and man the phones,” Twila ordered.

“Right!” he replied. “Good luck, girls!”

Rarity gave him a pat on the head. “Thank you, darling. I bet we’ll be back before dinner.”