//------------------------------// // A bumpy ride // Story: The 9:15 to Foalsome // by Zap Apple Smash //------------------------------// Tin Whistle approached a couple of attendants that were on break. “Sorry to bother,” he said in pleasant tone. “Just wanted to check that everything was going alright with the passengers.” “Right as rain,” the first attendant replied. “Most of the passengers are itching to get to work in Trottingham but the whole trip’s been without incident.” “Wonderful to hear,” Tin Whistle checked his watch. “I’ve spoken to the engineer and we are on schedule. When you finish your break you can let the passengers know we’ll be arriving at Canterlot within the next 3 hours.” “Will do.” The second attendant replied. At that Tin Whistle walked off, whistling a happy tune. “Is it me or has Tin Whistle been in an incredibly good mood since we left Neigh Orleans?” The first attendant asked. “Word is that he finally got the nerve to talk to that food cart mare he’s been sweet on,” the second attendant explained. “Really? Good for him.” Bantu groaned as he gained consciousness. It was a slow process trying to shake loose all of the cobwebs in his mind. One of the downsides of the hibernation potion was that waking back up took much longer than usual. The constipation also was unwanted but would work itself out eventually. Finally he was able to get his bearings. He was still inside his crate which was a good start. Light was shining through the small openings of the crate so he could assume it was daytime. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his watch. It was a keepsake from one of his more successful card playing nights. His opponent might have had a terrible poker face but he had excellent taste in watches. Not only was it finely made, it also had a small display on the face that kept track of the date in addition to keeping track of the time. According to his watch, he had woken up a couple of hours before the train was scheduled to arrive in Canterlot. By way the way the train was inclining, Bantu assumed that the train was still on schedule. This was both a good and bad thing. It was good because it meant that he had not missed his opportunity and by the time he had to act the hibernation potion would be completely out of his system. It was bad because it meant he was now trapped inside the crate for a couple of hours since he couldn’t risk getting out of it until after the train left Canterlot station. So, with no better option, he put on his lucky bowler hat, making sure none of the feathers had been bent in the trip, and pulled out a deck of cards. He then proceeded to play solitaire in order to pass the time. In hindsight, a book might have been a better idea. The Canterlot station mistress put down the book she had been reading when she heard a train noisily announce its arrival. Stepping out of her office she saw that it was the train from Neigh Orleans. She checked her watch. “They completely disrupted my schedule but at least they’re on time.” She grumbled. The station mistress hated relief trains. While she could sympathise with the plight of Trottingham and was on some level grateful to live in a nation that was so quick in sending aid to those in need, she definitely could do without the headache that organising a relief train took. Being station mistress in the nation’s capital was hard enough work, she didn’t also need all the logistical trouble of clearing the lines whenever a relief train needed to be sent out. Still she was master of this station and she was going to show these goons in the royal guard how the railway got things done. She then noticed a pegasus in armour approaching her. “Speak of Discord and he will appear,” she muttered before greeting the newcomer. “Hello again Lieutenant Hope, I trust everything is on schedule.” Lieutenant Forlorn Hope was always the one put in charge of making sure relief supplies made it safely from storage to the station. “Actually I’m Lieutenant Nimbostratus,” The pegasus replied. “Lieutenant Hope got transferred to Cloudsdale.” The station mistress gave a shrug. “You military types all look alike to me.” “Indeed,” The pegasus replied, his face neutral. “Well to answer your question, yes, everything is on schedule. However there are changes to the train layout that you need to sign off on.” He held out an inventory sheet. The station mistress looked it over. “You’re adding another storage car and another passenger car. Who approved this?!!” “The princess did,” Nimbostratus explained. “The night court ruled last night to add financial aid to the shipment. We need the extra passenger car to house the extra security.” “Fine,” the station mistress said with a huff as she signed off the new inventory. “Let’s just get this sorted.” Once all passengers had disembarked from the train and told to be ready to board in an hour, the railroad, military and relief personnel got to work. The brake van was removed so that two more storage cars and a passenger car for the guards could be added onto the train. Once connected, the caboose was reattached and they got to work loading the supplies. First the basic relief supplies were loaded on, followed by the more specialised ingredients from the alchemist vaults. Lastly the relief funds from the treasury was loaded on along with the added security to protect it. Once all this was done the passengers, both the ones from Neigh Orleans and the ones the joining on from Canterlot, climbed back aboard. After one final whistle the train departed. The station mistress watched as the train left before returning to her office, hoping that the rest of her day would be without incident. The whistle and the movement of the train was enough to jerk Bantu awake. When he got tired of solitaire he decided on a nap to work out the remainder of the hibernation potion. Finally he climbed out of his crate. It was time to get to work. First thing he needed to do was find the car that was holding the good stuff. He assumed that it would one of the end cars but he had no way of knowing for sure beforehand. Luckily he knew for certain that one of the key ingredients for the cure is a rare type of fungus most commonly known as purgatory. Now purgatory has a very distinctive smell but it is illegal for anypony aside from crown endorsed alchemists to be in possession of it. This means that any purgatory on the train would have to have come from the alchemical vaults. And seeing as the alchemists would keep all their high ticket items in one place, once Bantu found the purgatory, he’d find the motherload. Unfortunately because this was a moving train with the cars separate, he probably won’t be able to get a whiff of purgatory until he was at the right car so it means he still would need to check each car until he found the right one. Alright so maybe not every part of this plan was as well thought out. He had honestly planned on Galeb having an idea of tracking the car carrying the good stuff. Still he was here now and as the saying goes, in for a jangle, in for a bit. Deciding to go with his gut, he headed to the exit that led to the end of the train. As he opened the door he was assaulted with the rushing wind. He crossed to platforms connecting the car. He paused for a minute to look to the side, seeing a spectacular view of the land rushing past him … at the bottom of a tremendous cliff. He gulped and moved to the other car, looking through the door window he saw two guards sitting at a small table. He briefly considered going around them somehow before he noticed the rows and rows of crates behind them. He had to check this car. Now was when things got tricky. Bantu was no match for even one of the royal guard, much less two. His spell paper was also not going to be much help since for it to have an effect there has to be at least a shred of credibility to whatever story he’s telling in the eyes of target. Luckily he had brought some backup plans. He checked his pockets for some of the vials that he had “borrowed” from his brother. The black-topped one was his last resort if things went sideways, the green and blue tops were what he needed right now. He opened the green-topped vial and drank its contents. It tasted like rotten bananas and it made his lips numb but it protected him from what was in the other vials, at least for a few hours. Bantu pushed open the door, threw in the vial and closed the door again. He heard the faint sound of glass breaking. He pressed in the his ear against the door. He heard a guards jump to their hooves at the brief sound of whistling wind and the breaking of glass. Then there were two thumps as the guards fell to the floor. After a ten count to make sure they were out, Bantu opened the door and saw the two guards lying unconscious. He paused and took a sniff before rolling his eyes. Only Galeb would go through the effort of making his sleep mist lavender scented. After checking to make sure the guards were out, he took a good look around. The entire car was one long room and it was filled with crates of various sizes, all on pallets secured to the floor, many of them marked 'fragile'. Now that he took a moment his nose was filled with the scent of purgatory fungus, this was it! Lucky for him none of the boxes were stacked so all he had to do was lift the lids to check their contents. Each pallet had a couple of crates of a single alchemical ingredient, and he picked and chose only the best as he moved down the length of the car, stuffing his sack full. Monk's Hood, might as well be grass. Penance bark, very nice. Purgatory fungus, smelly but useful. Hydra scales, rare and very valuable. Quarry eel saliva, ew, why was that even in here? He was picky as a miser's wife at market day, only taking that which was most valuable or used in the most powerful of potions. As he neared the end of the train car with his sack was bulging with a merchant prince's ransom in alchemical goodies, he came to a section enclosed by steel bars, like a small jail cell. There was only one crate inside and his interest was definitely peaked. Now Bantu was pretty decent with a set of lockpicks but if the alchemists had gone through the effort of putting what was in the chest behind bars then there was a chance the lock might be enchanted to prevent picking. Luckily he had a backup plan. He pulled out a small pouch. He held it in one hoof and started chanting as he waved his other hoof over the top of the bag “Hiyo ni maisha, hiyo ni maisha, kwamba ni nini watu wanasema.” When bag start to vibrate in his hoof, Bantu took a deep breath and poured some dull orange powder into his mouth while humming an off-key tune. The enspelled powder fizzed as it reacted to the saliva let off a gas. Once enough formed in his mouth, he blew on the lock of the cage. He watched with satisfaction as the lock corroded right before his eyes. Rust breath might make your breath smell like you had chugged a gallon of bayou moonshine that had been filtered through used kitty litter but it certainly lived up to it’s name. Finally the lock was so badly rusted that it shattered when he opened the cage and focused his attention on the chest inside. When he finally got the lid open his face was lit up with glee, literally! The inside of the chest was packed with cotton to safeguard its cargo, a half dozen beautiful crafted crystal jars, each filled with a ball of brightly colored flame. Bottled Dragons' Fire! He couldn't believe it, he had hit the jackpot! The dragons only traded a clawful of bottles each year and each was worth a rock farmer's entire yearly gem harvest. You could weave spells into it, brew potions over it for greatly increased potency, burn through almost anything, the stuff had dozens of uses. So long as you kept it safely contained anyway. Bantu couldn’t believe his eyes. He had heard rumours the crown had a stockpile of bottled dragon fire but he didn’t dare hope that any would be packed on the trip. The zebrony weighed his options. A single bottle of dragon’s fire was extremely volatile but worth as much by itself as his entire sack's contents. If he made off with one he would either end up insanely rich or dead in a flame dug crater. The zebrony took one last look before closing the crate. He already enough loot to be set for life, better to quit while he was ahead. He managed to take five steps away from the crate before doing turning back and scrambling to the crate. Yes he had enough loot to be set for life but with a bottle of dragon’s fire, his whole family would have enough to be set for life. Galeb would be able to open his shop and grandmere Zelime would be able have a decent retirement plan for when she was done being the voodoo queen. Sure Galeb had said he wanted to nothing do with this and a voodoo queen’s idea of a retirement plan is cremation but once Bantu had the money then they could sort out the little details. After a slow and tedious process he was able to pry loose one of the bottles. He took one last look at it before wrapping in it in cloth and carefully placing it in his bag. Finally, having realised he had as much as he would be able to carry, Galeb made his way to the exit he had come in through. His exit was thwarted when armored pony tackled him. While Bantu had been focused on opening the chest with the dragon’s fire, one of the guards he’d drugged had come to. He was still groggy and slightly delirious but years of training kicked in and so he lept into action. The two tussled on the ground. Bantu flailed wildly trying break away as the guard tried his best to restrain him. Bantu managed to get a lucky shot in, hitting the guard in the jaw. It was enough to briefly stun the still groggy guard and give the zebrony a chance to get away. Bantu picked up the bag that he had dropped and raced for the door. Once through he slammed it shut. He let out a sigh of relief. Alright, so maybe that wasn’t the cleanest of exits but he had to do was get off the train. The guard he fought was most likely still out of it so by the time he was cognitive enough to alert the other guards Bantu would be long gone. Filled with relieved confidence he casually crossed the junction between cars and entered the next car. As he closed the door he made a startling realisation. That scuffle had cause him to be turned completely around. Rather than going through the door that would lead him back to the mail car, he had gone through opposite door. Now instead he was in a car filled with twenty guards. All of whom were looking right at him. “This is a restricted area,” the nearest guard said. “I am so sorry.” Bantu said, “I was looking for a bathroom and got lost.” The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow. Rather than respond he turned to two nearby guards. “Go find out why Cumulous and Nexus let this vagabond pass them.” “Vagabond?” Bantu asked in dismay. The Lieutenant then took a sniff before turning to two other guards. “Search him, I want to know why he smells like Purgatory.” Realising that there was no way to talk himself out of this one, Bantu was forced to use his last resort. He pulled out his vial and threw it to the ground. It smashed, filling the car with sickly green mist. The guards tried to shield themselves from the mist but it was too late. Their eyes widened as the terror mist took hold. For a minute they all stared wide eyed as their comrades morphed into the demons and monsters of their worst nightmares. Though rather than cower fear. The guards started attacking each other. Any relief Bantu felt slowly faded away as he watched this spectacular brawl unfold. This was clearly not a place he wanted to be as a flying helmet almost brained him. He hastily pushed back through the car door and pulled it closed behind him. Standing on the platforms between the two train cars he took a moment to catch his breath. Which died in he chest as he looked through the door window of the alchemy car and saw the first two guards beginning to get up. He was trapped between two train cars, each containing very dangerous soldiers likely angry with him. He looked around wildly, seeing the drop over mile high cliffs on one side, and an old service road separating the tracks from the mountainside rushing past on the other. Taking only a second more to think he leaped clear of the side of the train, rolling as he hit the rough ground, hard. Bantu got back up and started to dust himself off. He looked around and when he found his bag of loot he hugged it in joy. Sure that might not have been the cleanest of exits but at least he got what he came for. Joy soon turned to confusion when he heard a strange hissing coming out of the bag. “What the…?” His eyes widened in realisation. “The dragon’s fire!” On instinct he hurled the bag as hard as he could over the cliff. Well before the bag hit the ground it exploded. Raining down a fortune's worth of ash and debris. “Well.” Bantu finally said as he watch his plan literally go up in smoke. “This day can’t get any worse.” He then noticed the train grinding to a halt down the track, a distress siren pierced through the relative quiet of the mountain side, followed by a signal flair shooting high into the air. “I stand corrected.” He muttered. He started to make a run for it. He had no doubt that pretty soon a whole army of pegasi would be descending from the top of Mount Canterhorn. He knew there was no way he could out run the royal guards but they would expect him to run away from Canterlot. His best bet would be to run in the direction they didn’t expect and then lie low for a while. Luckily he knew of one pony in Canterlot that would willing to help him. There was loud banging at the door. "I'm coming! I'm coming." A teenage Trixie yelled. . She opened to find an older Bantu standing. He was fully grown, more developed and currently out of breath but he was definitely the same Bantu she remembered. "Trixie! You've got to help me." Trixie took one look at her friend and then stepped to the side to let him in. "Quick, get inside."