Welcome to the planet Sacagawea. Here, there are many deserts. Deseret rules much of the land...and much of the seas and skies beyond that. And the Mormons rule with an iron hand.

Ah, the Balochi deserts. It's a dry wild, where only herders dare settle.

It's hard to believe that once, rhinos with giraffe-like necks roamed this wild, rearing up against trees, and using their tapir-like upper lips to eat the leaves off the trees. Now, alas, the trees out here wouldn't feed a cow...let alone a herd of them. And, of course, the Paraceratherium is extinct...and the last rhino that lived here died centuries before my generation was born, for sure.

One great beast that ISN'T extinct, at least, is a certain black stallion. Here and there, mane waving freely with the wind, he roams. Unlike the rest of the Balochi world, he's got an unbridled spirit. And he's NOT afraid to wear that badge on his chest...figuratively speaking.

He can still rear, of course... Alas, I'm pretty sure western sales would stop overnight, if they started portraying all horses as bipeds. But then, it's probably just as well. The western industry has been in decline for quite some time, now...

In his nose, Sunspot wears a golden ring. Hence, he's had a master before. Now, alas, he's a ronin. And he DIDN'T have to get tamed by a Japanese master to gain that title... Hell, he didn't even have to be tamed. But then, that's not really thing, with horses; they're either tamed against their wills, or they remain wild.

There are many who dare think that a horse like Sunspot has better places to be, than in the wild. And sadly, some of them are more local that he'd like.

The Mormon regime of Deseret is VERY interested in Sunspot. Alas, if THEY can't bridle Sunspot, then what hope is there for anyone else...Mormon or subject?

At super-speed, a boy in a black suit races by. No hope now; the Rival's got this Flicka cornered.

In no time, he's built a corral around the great dark beast. With no one around to watch, the Rival smiles, and removes his costume's hood.

From the top of a hill, a man in a hoverchair arrives. In tow, he's got a man in a white robe. Once they're within range, the white-robed man hops off his ride.

Still sitting in his hoverchair, Thinker grins, as he presses some controls on the arm of his chair. Down from the sky, robotic parts hover. They're pieces of armor; or, barding, rather. They're all parts of an exosuit...for a horse.

In the pen, the horse rears, kicks, and whinnies. He tries to break free...but the trio have got him surrounded by a force field.

For this next part, the force field is lowered. And the helmet of the pro-horse exosuit is forced onto the black beast's head, initially blinding him. He whinnies, and thrashes. Alas, the pen fences sprout a few prods, and shock the horse, each time he backs into a forbidden corner...or raises one of his back legs to kick.

Wherever they can, the other pieces of the exosuit seize the opportunity. Under Gambler's advice, the pieces of armor decide what to restrain next...based on what's fatiguing more...or WILL fatigue more, just as often...

Soon, the entire dark horse is armored...and hovering, via thrusters. Inside the suit, the horse trips, as he loses his sense of the ground beneath his hooves. As a result, he spirals in many directions, for as long as it takes for him to realize he's been hopelessly cornered.

Outside the pen, the trio snickers. They've done the impossible; they've captured Sunspot, the wild black stallion of Old Persia.

"Time to take him home," the Gambler says, smiling.

Thinker presses other controls on the armrest of his hoverchair, opening a portal to a pocket universe. Gradually, the exosuit start to levitate towards the portal opening...

Alas, sometimes a horse has gotta do what a horse has gotta do...

The stallion goes berserk. In circles, he spins faster than ever. Before he knows it, he's rifling through the air, at the speed of a cannonball. He flies right around, aims himself at Thinker, and comes raining down...

Alas, just in time, Thinker and Rival abandon ship. And Rival comes back for Gambler...moments before Sunspot lands, shattering the armor, and destroying its power generator.

Nearby, the portal has already closed. And the pen's parts are strewn all over the ground, now useless.

Dizzy as ever, the horse barrel-rolls across the ground, and skids to a stop, while on his side. He dares not get up for a while. Maybe if that insane trio is still around, they'll see him, and think he's dead...

For now, though, he sleeps. He's earned a nap, after all...even if this isn't how he would've wanted this day to end.

Once again, the world has failed to put a yoke on this unbeatable force of Persian nature. But then, it's rather unfair that they'd think he needs one. He already, after all, has a ring in his nose...