((Story Extract))
 
“Five hundred and forty thousand caps. Five hundred. And forty. Thousand caps. Why in the name of Celestia’s holy snow-white flanks did I let you convice me to charter a train from here to back home?” It was late in the day after Static had finished negotiations and we were able to get things settled. Crash Dive and Scouring elected to both busy themselves around town, while Aerith and Hispano had agreed to a small chat with us over dinner, after she’d gotten back on her… talons. After pretty much putting her through a near-supersonic icy wind tunnel, was the least we could do, really. And yet, despite the incoming promise of lots of warm, tasty food, Static seemed wholly determined to be in a sour mood tonight. “Ugh… anyways, that thing you mentioned earlier, are you sure that the guy on the radio actually is gonna get a message to our dads? And that he’ll actually recognize them if he sees them?”
 
I took a long sip from my bomb-bottle of Sparkle-Cola, swallowing it down and setting it on the table, leaning back into the booth seat. “Mmh, he pretty much said that they were traveling via TOG, I think there’s a pretty damn good chance that there’s only one of those around. Even if not, apparently Rolling Tracks is with ‘em too, and she’s some sort of ghost story where he’s from. If they don’t recognize the TOG, they’ll be sure to recognize her and War Mare.” A small chuckle escaped myself as I moved a hoof around Static, leaning forwards with him. He looked back at me with worried eyes, as I returned a smile. “Come on, Sparky. Mad Jack seemed to know him, and it means we know with absolute certainty that our dads are coming for us. We just need to stay down in Vanhoover until they get here.”
 
The earth pony let off a sigh as he sat up, leaning back into the booth cushions. A small bout of applause filled the Roundhouse as the current set finished up, the lights fading on for a while. “Alright. We kind of need to stay around anyways, help with the whole eventual attack on the base thing…” Static took a sip from his own bottle of Sunrise Sarsaparswilla, looking out across the busy roundhouse. The idle chatter and clinking of silverware against old plates almost drowned out the grumbles of his stomach… almost. He looked down at it for a moment, a small grimace crossing his face. “Nnf, when’s Aerith and her friend supposed to get here? Starting to starve here, and the show’s about to start soon, too.”