Act 2, Chapter 44: Crazy Talk
Starlight Over Detrot
Act 2, Chapter 44 : Crazy Talk
Have you heard?
The moon is fake, a magical illusion; It went on the fritz that one night in L.R. 4! Celestia is a changeling puppet; she was replaced during the L.R. 2 Royal Wedding by Chrysalis and is siphoning the love out of everything! Reality is an illusion and we're all just fevered drawings by a group of mad monkeys selling colorful toys to other monkeys!
Did any of that sound sensible to you? If not, good. Would that all readers should be so astute, but not everypony answered this question in the negative. Recent polls by the Canterlot Sun and Manehattan Gazelle show that 5% of Equestrians believe that children's craft glue contains the ground-up tissues of dissenters, 7% believe that vaccinations were meant to cause googly eyes, and a whopping 4% believe the Alicorn princesses are shape-changing praying mantises.
The pervasiveness of these bizarre theories, constructed from circumstantial or fictional evidence in defiance of logic and Hockham's Razor, is a topic of much psychological study, but current evidence suggests that conspiracy theories have some of the same mental origins as religious worship: the desire to believe that some sort of entity or council, benign or malign, is actually in control of the universe, and that everything that happens in a tumultuous and often unfair world is part of some grand scheme, rather than the bumbling of millions of confused ungulates groping in the dark as though for a dropped contact lens.
It may seem counterintuitive, but for many, it is easier and more comforting to believe that a shadowy cabal of evil conspirators runs the show than it is to believe that said show is in the hooves of nopony at all.
Of course, many strange things happen against all reason and probability. An elaborate conspiracy theory is the mark of somepony crazy, but in Equestria, "Crazy" is not necessarily the same as "Wrong."
-The Scholar
“...Assuming we believe this, how did this ‘Twilight’ pony pull her ‘vanishing’ trick?” Taxi asked, tugging her checkered braid. “I mean, yeah, so nopony remembers her after a while, but so what? No one can just wipe out all record of herself, particularly not a Princess… can they?”
Tome’s construct rose from his place by the fire, pacing back and forth “Of course not. Like most forgotten things, it began with her simply ceasing to show herself in public. Soon thereafter, the news stopped carrying stories of her. Interest faded, perhaps a bit more quickly than normal, but certainly not in a way that might raise eyebrows.”
“I… ugh. This is a bit crazy even for me,” I grumbled, trying to work the tightness out of my neck with a few stretches. I felt like I was going to need a full body massage with a tire-iron to ever relax again. “Fine, what sort of evidence do you have?”
“Amongst a collection of memoirs dating back to the time of Luna’s return I discovered a photograph; Princess Twilight and several mares I can only assume were friends or family,” he explained, pointing to his desk. “I became interested after discovering that, across a number of days, my ability to remember details about her was fading. There are, of course, any number of conspiracy theories about lost princesses. This one simply happened to be true.”
“If you kept forgetting, how’d you figure out you were forgetting?” Swift asked, scratching her spiky mane.
Limerence moved over to the desk where the Don had indicated, tugging open a low drawer and extracting a cloth-bound book. It was weighed down by tabs, bits of paper stuck between its pages, and old tassels of ragged bookmarks. On the side were printed the words ‘Volume 31’. “Father kept meticulous notes on his comings and goings, his topics of research, and his findings. Any sudden gap would be noticed immediately.”
“And it began there,” Tome’s construct agreed, indicating Limerence should open the heavy book. “My… creator began journaling the fragments of information, and when that failed to keep his memories secured, he...developed an alternative. Myself.”
“Hmmm… so how does one go about contacting a lost Princess then?” I asked.
“Honestly, I only mentioned it in passing. Little is understood of alicorn aging processes, but if she still lives, I have no knowledge of how we might contact her or even if she might assist us. Sadly, I was unable to discover more than her name and a few tidbits of data about her. She was present in some capacity at the return of Princess Luna and is credited with the acts leading to it. Her ascension was chronicled in part, but her reasons for leaving weren’t. That said, somepony with enormous resources has gone to great lengths to suppress knowledge of her. Public records, newspapers, memory wipes, and even the Equestrian Revenue Service. There are fragments of her all through the early parts of this century and yet... nopony in the last thirty years seems to know if she is even still in Equestria. This magic she used to vanish has assured that… almost… nopony noticed, either.”
I peeked over Limerence’s shoulder at a severely faded picture of six mares tucked into the front of Tome’s journal. It was impossible to tell what color they’d originally been, or what their faces looked like in the worn photograph, but I thought the one in the middle might have been purple or lavender. She had an unmistakable pair of wings and a long, striking horn. It certainly didn’t look fake.
“Huh… so not… terribly helpful, then. Damn.” I examined the tabs on the side of the journal. Most were related to ponies I’d never met or heard of. One said ‘Princess Celestia/Luna’, while another said ‘Weapons research’. A bookmark sticking out of that particular section had ‘Hard Boiled 1,2,3’ scribbled in Tome’s hoofwriting. “Wait a second. What’s this?”
I touched the offending bookmark.
The Don’s construct shifted his weight - if he had any weight to shift - from leg to leg. If I didn’t know better, I’d have almost said he was nervous.
“That… is not precisely what it looks like...”
I flipped it open to find a picture of my grandfather laid alongside reports from father’s time in the police force and even a few news clippings from my own. “What it looks like is that you’ve been keeping tabs on...what, three generations of my family?!”
Tome paused, then slowly nodded. “Ah...well… I suppose it is what it looks like, then, yes.”
Giving Limerence a little bump to one side with my hip, I flipped back in the book to the front of the tab. At the top of the page labeled ‘Weapons Research’ was a list of names. Next to each name there were ranks, dates, and causes of death.
“Sun Walker, Colonel, L.R. 23, date unknown, missing in action, presumed drowned after the attack on the E.S. Maretempkin. Pond Skimmer, Master Chief Petty Officer, L.R. 24, suicide upon hearing of the Los Pegasus attack. Tasty Treat, Private First Class, LR 22, burned to death upon completing Mission:General Corposthax The Bloody...”
I read the names aloud, shaking my head. Almost everypony on the list was dead or missing either during or not long after the end of the war.
“What… on Equis am I looking at?” I asked.
“Let us see what you can put together, shall we?” The Don gave me that irritatingly enigmatic old smile that said ‘You’ll learn more from figuring it out yourself’.
I turned the next page. I tilted it a little to one side, then the other, trying to get a working idea of what the mass of arcane lines and shapes might actually be. The tightly written little notes covering every inch of spare space certainly didn’t help.
“Sir... is that... is that your gun?” Swift asked.
I squinted at the blueprint and it slowly resolved into a very familiar shape. It was a three dimensional cross-section of my father’s revolver, albeit more complicated than any simple hunk of metal had any right to be. The surface was absolutely coated in arcane runes, each annotated with function and possible function. Down in one corner, almost invisible under the heaps of annotations, there were two words: Crusader Class.
“Tome... what... is a Crusader?” I asked. My brain was working faster than my mouth. One tiny detail hooked up with another and, after a few seconds, a picture began to form in my mind. It’d been such a crazy month that it took me second to start to piece it all together. “Wait. Wait a second. A month ago, when we first met Stella, the dragon who runs the Vivarium...the lizard made us drink some kind of ‘truth’ draught. Then he had one of his ponies ask us some questions. One of them was-”
“Are you now or have you ever been in possession of a Crusader Class weapon?” Taxi finished, with a look of wonder. “Hardy, what about the Aroyos?”
“What about them?”
She rolled her eyes like she always did when I’d missed something she found all too obvious. “What do they call you?”
My ears perked straight in the air as realization set in.
“Crusader…”
Pulling up my sleeve, I looked down at my weapon. Reaching down, I pulled loose the straps holding it to my leg, eased it off, and lay it on the table, facing Tome’s construct. He glanced at it, briefly, then up at me. His face was a carefully built wall of neutrality that I couldn’t get any sort of read on.
“Alright. This day has been traumatic enough. I want the beans and I want them spilled right here,” I said, smacking the journal with my leg. “Why the interest in my family? Why the interest in my gun? I know you always wanted me to sell it to you, but why? What good is a relic?”
Tome sighed, reaching for one of his cookies before realizing again that he couldn’t touch them. He stared at his own hoof for a long moment after it passed through his desk, then turned back to the fire.
“You know, your grandfather was a rather special pony,” he said, the light from the flames reflecting in his black eyes. “The Princesses certainly thought so. Ambitious. Brilliant. He was a pony who could have done fantastic things for Equestria, had the war not broken out when it did. Of course, the same thing could be said for many of us.”
“I… didn’t know you fought in the war,” I said.
Tome’s boney shoulders stiffened and he came to a crisp, military ‘at-the-ready’ stance, snapping his back hooves together as he raised his chin. “Tenth Regimental Zebran Artillery, Sah! Reporting for duty, Sah!” He stood like that for a moment, then relaxed, chuckling in the back of his throat. “I was almost too old, but… I served my time against the dragons; barely two years, before the war ended, and we only saw live combat a hoof-full of times, but I do remember the Crusaders. I saw them in battle only once, but those gentlecolts and fillies do leave… an impression.”
“I’m afraid my father didn’t tell me all that much about the war. Grandad served, but that’s really all I know.”
“Not surprising. Your grandsire forbade your father to join up. Hence why your father became a police officer, instead of a soldier. Your grandfather was not a fan of the war. He wished it ended as quickly as possible.”
I shook my head, letting my back legs give out. It was a bit of a shock to discover just how much my old friend hadn’t told me.
“How do you know all of this?”
“Some of it was gleaned from public records. Most required breaking laws which could have seen me spending a lengthy stay in Tartarus,” he answered, indicating a stack of folders tucked into a nook on the wall, indistinguishable from old tax documents. “The records from the war are badly disorganized, but they do provide an image. The Crusaders were an elite squadron, unique amongst Equestria’s armed forces. They were tasked with the protection of Equestria. That was their sole, abiding mission and each of them swore it unto death and the deaths of all those they loved until the last generation.”
He sighed, sadly, and moved back to the mantel, running his eyes across the picture frames sitting on it. Most were images of ponies I assumed to be famous archaeologists. Professor Fizzle was up there, smiling as he held up a golden globe of some kind and another pony in a pith-helmet waved in the background.
“Sadly, nearly all of them failed to have even a next generation,” he finished, after a moment’s thought.
“So… why are you so interested in Hardy’s gun?” Taxi asked, suspiciously.
The construct nodded towards the desk where the blueprint lay. “I suppose the answer to that is tied rather intimately to the history of the Crusaders. That list of names constitutes the only complete record of their membership outside of classified documents openable only by members of the crown. Dead names. Dead ponies. A dead… ideal,” He paused, thought a moment, then added, “Well… almost dead.”
“What is the purpose of these documents, Father?” Limerence asked, then shut his eyes as he realized what he’d said. “Pardon. What is the purpose of these documents?”
“They chronicle… a concept in warfare. You are aware, of course, that the Moon Weapons entrusted to Professor Fizzle were created during the Crusades by Princess Luna, yes? They were prototypes for weapons able to kill dragons.” His lips flashed in a wolven smile as he waved a hoof at my revolver. “Prototypes… for that.”
“I’m sorry, those guns could split a pony in half and ran on moonlight,” I objected, holding up my revolver and tapping the barrel against the desk. “My revolver isn’t exactly in the same league.”
“Oh, really, Detective?” Tome’s smile widened. “Then may I ask… have you had any interference with magical attempts to scan or follow you?”
I squinted at him, then down at my gun. “I…” I hesitated, thinking.
Taxi rubbed the side of her head with a hoof and said, “We almost caused an incident when we visited Tartarus Correctional. They wanted to magically nullify Hardy to figure out how he was evading their tracking systems.”
I clicked a toe against my two front teeth and added, “Cosmo tried to use something called ‘The Scry’ to track me. Those stupid bat ponies had a tracking system in their warehouse as well that wouldn’t work when I was there. Tourniquet mentioned something, too.”
Tome’s construct attempted to poke at my weapon, but his hoof phased right on through, so he settled for gesturing at it. “The Crusaders were an elite task-force. Twelve ponies. Twelve bloodlines. Each one sworn to protect and sworn to serve the good of Equestria.”
I quickly counted the names on the list in Tome’s journal. There were, in fact, twelve.
“What did these ponies do?” I asked.
The Don’s construct trotted towards me and walked right on through in the most unsettling fashion, stopping in front of his bookshelves with a sort of wistful expression as he examined all the ancient books he’d never get to read again. “The dragons favor a very top-heavy organizational system. They don’t delegate well and those that are delegated upon tend to resent it. Dragons are a species that values their independence. During the Crusades, their greatest general was able to wrangle his lords to obey, but dragons have ever relied on size and fire in battle. Organization - herds - tends to be an equine trait.”
“Top-heavy…” Taxi muttered, thinking. “Top-heavy? The Crusaders were assassins?”
“Quite right!” The construct clapped a hoof atop his desk like a teacher congratulating an especially bright student. It slid right on through, momentarily throwing him off balance, but he quickly recovered. “Quite right, Miss Shine! Well done. The Crusaders were tasked with ending the war by any means necessary. It was determined that eliminating the draconic leadership would collapse their internal hierarchy in short order. To do this, they were given training… and tools.”
I raised one eyebrow. “My gun is a peashooter compared to some of the artillery my friends carry around. Heck, it’s a pea-shooter compared to this.” I tugged my coat to one side, revealing the gaudy shotgun I’d taken off the unicorn Cyclone.
“If only you knew how wrong you are, Detective,” he replied, not even sparing a glance for the twelve gauge. “As I said, I have met the Crusaders in battle. There, towards the bottom...”
I ran my hoof down the list again to the last three names:
Sweet Embrace, Rank unknown, Missing L.R. 28. Death unconfirmed.
Blooming Death, Rank unknown. Missing, L.R. 28. Death unconfirmed.
The Demolisher, Rank Unknown. Missing, L.R. 28. Death unconfirmed.
“This guy seriously picked ‘The Demolisher’ as his code name?” Taxi asked, suppressing a smile.
“It was an apt title… and it should be noted that ‘The Demolisher’ was a filly. She was barely out of her teens, when the war began and her aptitude for destruction earned her that title. She looked… well, to be honest, a bit like you, Officer Swift.” His eyes drifted off towards the ceiling, lost in recollection.
“How do you know so much about her?” I asked, tilting my head to one side.
“Research, Detective. Her life before the war is a fog, but her war record - that which I could find, at any rate - was exemplary. I also saw her in combat during the Dodge Junction campaign. My regiment was called out to provide alchemical support. Two hours into the fighting, the dragons had broken through the front lines. The Demolisher came to our aid.”
“My mother had a medal from the Dodge Junction campaign that’s somewhere in a storage locker,” I said, thinking back. “I wonder where that got off to...”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if your grandfather had been there. It was quite the fight. An especially big bitch - a drakaina who called herself ‘The Cutting One’ - had joined the battle and decimated a half dozen squads of heavy armored units. She was coming for us. Me and my squadron. Five librarians with pretentions to soldiery and hoof-fulls of alchemical rocket launchers. We were going to die out there in that desert... alone and sweaty,” Tome reminisced, his front knees tensing and untensing in a tempo that reminded me of a march.
Swift, ever a sucker for a good story, settled on her flank in front of the image of the Don. “What happened?”
Glancing at her out of one eye, Tome lifted his chin a bit higher. “The Cutting One was two minutes out, flying on the trade winds over the desert. You could see her shadow, like a black blanket crawling over the mountains. Smoke billowed out of the town, but it had survived worse than a strafing by dragon fire. The fire teams were already on the streets, expecting to use the reprieve before the fighting started again to put things out and get flame-plating onto the rooftops that weren’t already armored. They were going to die, too...and there my squad sat, a quarter mile from the town, watching that creature coasting in to bring death to all of them. Local radio was down. The antennas were all melted. We couldn’t even warn them.”
I decided to go with the flow and joined Swift on the carpet. Limerence pulled himself into his father’s old chair and settled his chin on his hooves whilst Taxi just leaned against the desk.
“I’m certain you’ve had that feeling of watching your death coming for you,” Tome continued. “You know the chill that creeps up your back, but you don’t shake or quiver. You stand and watch. I remember my four friends. Fine zebras, all. Zerth, the artist. Zantha, the obsessive compulsive. Nerzetha, the writer. Zeek, the logician. We’d watched ponies and dragons die, but our place was usually far from the violence. Strange, how peaceful it can be, watching a hopeless situation unfold. Of course, that was when... she appeared.”
“The Demolisher?” Swift wanted to know.
“Yes. Her war-scooter… You know, I never did get the chance to ask why they were given such a silly name. It is especially atrocious, being as they were one of our most terrifying weapons. After all, a war-scooter is a modified, armored chariot, capable of carrying heavy weaponry at high speed. Typically two pegasi pull and a unicorn or earth-pony fires the guns. Still, The Demolisher pulled hers alone.” He licked his lips, as though they were dry, and and I got the strange feeling he was seeing that long ago battlefield, tasting the sand and the arid desert air.
“It was… magnificent, Detective. The Cutting One flew out of the sun, her great green wings driving dusty tornados before her. She was fast… but the Demolisher was faster. She must have been flying, top speed, for hours to reach us from Los Pegasus but still, she appeared on the horizon, sweeping out of the distance at speeds that leave me dizzy to consider. She unhitched herself from her war-scooter in mid-air and left the crew to bail out on parachutes.”
“But… but why would she do that?” my partner asked, puzzled. “I mean, didn’t they have all the guns?”
He held his hooves wide. “Against a dragon of that size, their weapons might as well have been mosquito bites. The Demolisher did not fly, so much as she dropped onto the Cutting One’s back...and I felt a hopelessness the like of which I have not since. I was certain she was just another mad mare trying to play hero before she died, like a hundred others.”
Swift winced. “Eesh... I’ve broke my front legs doing that…”
I blinked at her. “Jumping onto a dragon’s back?”
She nodded. “Aunt Stella was helping me learn to fly. He tossed me in the air over the bay and made me coast down, but I started showing off and he couldn’t catch me fast enough…”
“I do wish I had met this ‘Stella’ in life. He strikes me as such an interesting creature,” Tome said, his grey face flickering in the firelight.
“He is,” I agreed. “How come I never heard of this particular dragon in any of my history lessons? I remember the Dodge Junction campaign, but I don’t remember anypony mentioning a dragon of that size in that particular battle.”
“Simply enough, The Cutting One never made it to the battlefield.” He nodded towards my weapon on the desk. “Dragons are not universally evil. Misguided, power hungry, or coerced by those amongst their number who were truly evil… but as I watched through my binoculars, I could see that drakaina’s eyes. She had the look of a monster, and not merely a lizard. She was going to enjoy liquefying the flesh from my bones. My friends wanted to turn tail and run all the way back to the zebra homeland, but I couldn’t turn away.”
“How... how did the Demolisher stop her?” Swift asked, intently.
“Well... I’d watched the filly land hard enough to shatter bone. The dragon ignored her or mayhap failed to notice she had a passenger. Few of our weapons were strong enough to penetrate the flesh of the high dragon-lords and it was doubtful she felt the weight of one pony running up her spine. Still, a few seconds later there was a flash of white light from on high...and a roar.” Tome shuddered, putting his hooves around himself. “Perhaps the best word is not ‘roar’. It was… more of a scream.”
“Father, how come you have never told me this story?” Limerence asked.
“Because, my son, some things I prefer not to remember too often. They are too awful. For all I may have wished to end the war and see the dragons defeated, I have enormous respect for their species and on that day… watched through my field binoculars as a dragon lost her mind.”
“Errr…" I said, "please tell me she didn’t…”
“Yes, Detective. When the Demolisher reached The Cutting One’s head, she disappeared. I did not see how she vanished, but seconds later, the Cutting One howled, and clasped at her head. Blood poured from her nostrils, along with great gouts of fire...and she plummeted to the earth so hard it knocked me and every pony in Dodge City from our hooves. She was dead before she hit the ground. ” Tome closed his eyes for a moment. “I... went to investigate the corpse. When I arrived at the body...it was bigger than I’d imagined. End to end, she might have been the size of a high-rise.”
Swift was right up on the edge of her hooves as she asked, “What...what happened to the Demolisher?”
The image of Tome clicked his tongue. “As myself and my four friends arrived, she was just pulling herself out of The Cutting One’s eye-socket from a hole cut clean through the creature’s skull. In one side and out the other.” He pointed to my revolver, laying on the table. “A hole cut by a weapon. The Crusader.”
My eyes narrowed a little. “So...then, how did my grandfather get ahold of something like that?”
“Still not putting it together?” Tome snorted, derisively. “Detective, I expect better from you. What is the eighth name on that list?”
I ran my toe down the list of names until I came to the eighth one down.
Swift, who’d moved around to my side, read the passage out loud. “Egg Head. Sergeant First Class. L.R. 28. Burned to death in a fire at his home. Suspect arson by draconic agent as revenge for death of the Dragon King. Crusader passed to progeny.”
“That’s... my grandfather?” I asked, skeptically.
“Wha... wait... Hardy’s grandad helped kill the king of dragons?!” Taxi blurted.
“There is no ‘helped’ about it. Detective Hard Boiled’s grandfather assassinated the dragon who brought about the war. He was never credited with the kill, for fear publicly awarding him for it would jeopardize diplomatic efforts with the dragon king’s successor, but make no mistake… it was he that pulled the trigger.” Tome pointed at my gun. “That… trigger.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose with the back of my knee.
“Egg Head. His code-name was Egg Head,” I grumbled. Mercy, I still wanted that drink.
“Your grandfather was possessed of a very strange sense of humor, I imagine,” Tome chuckled as a log in the fire split and send sparks scattering against the protective mesh. “Still, your family has a long history of protecting Equestria. Royal guards. Soldiers. Peace Officers. Now… yourself. The last of your family line...and the last one alive who can wield that weapon. The last… heh… the last Crusader.”
“You make it sound like it’s… tied to me, somehow,” I muttered.
“Oh, it is. Our dear monarch, Princess Celestia, is nothing if not prone to planning ahead.”
Limerence was pawing through the blueprints, levitating two at once so he could read them side by side. “Detective… he’s right. If I read this correctly, this weapon’s enchantment makes it impossible to steal or confiscate. Take it from the rightful owner and it becomes an ornate piece of rare metal. It can only be given to a new owner. A new owner bent on the protection of Equestria.”
Tome nodded along with the librarian’s explanation. “Quite correct, my son...eh...” He paused, then coughed into his hoof. “Pardon me, Limerence. I am aware I am not your father.”
“It’s... fine, sir,” Lim replied, shutting his eyes for a moment. “Father is dead, but I would not ask you to pretend you are something besides what you are.”
“That is very kind of you, boy,” the image replied, before returning to a lecturing tone. “Now then, Celestia knew there was a chance the Crusaders would be compromised, killed, or captured. To that end, no being that would wish Equestria ill may ever wield their power. They keep their bearers hidden from magical tracking systems. Their field of influence changes, depending on the mood of the bearer. A safe bearer might appear on any magical scan, whilst a fearful one could disrupt an entire region of spellwork.”
“That… makes a certain amount of sense, really. Maybe the only thing in this mess...” I said, trying to gather my wits. It was an awful lot of wit-scattering information for one little pony.
The most my father ever told me was that grandad died in a fire. To hear he’d fought in the war was one thing. To discover he’d been a professional assassin for the crown who’d managed to bring down the most vicious dragon the world had ever seen was something else.
Something occurred to me just then and I swallowed, ordering my thoughts. My friends were watching me expectantly.
“So, magical weapon, right?”
The Don nodded.
“Pretty durable?”
Another nod.
“Erm... What, precisely, would happen if I somehow managed to...you know...damage, my gun?”
Tome’s lips pulled into a deep frown. “That is highly unlikely.” His gaze narrowed. “Why?”
“Yeah, but...assuming I’d say...um…” I reached out and gently flipped my revolver onto the side with the flaking surface. “-been shot with a Moon Weapon?”
He stared at the shiny circle on the side of my revolver. “I think you should count yourself lucky the underlying architecture is nigh indestructible.”
“This doesn’t look especially indestructible to me,” I grumbled.
“You have certainly given a go to proving the designers incorrect,” Tome said, with a shake of his head. “I do believe your grandfather had somepony convert your weapon to discharge forty five caliber shells, yes?”
“That’s right…”
He traced the circle around the edge of the damage. The circuitry underneath shined with a strange inner light.. “Insofar as I believe whoever did that conversion must have been an artificer of the highest order, whoever did the work also painted the weapon to disguise it as common metal. Molded changeling bile, unless I miss my mark. Extremely resilient, until it is actually damaged. Sadly, I know of no way of repairing this. It will continue to peel.”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. I didn’t have a headache, but somehow felt that I should.
“Alright. Final question, then.” I picked up my gun and slotted it back into my holster. “How do I make it work?”
Taxi, who’d been half-way through chowing down on one of the Don’s cookies, coughed loudly, showering me in crumbs.
“Hardy, that weapon is meant for killing stuff like tanks and mega-fauna!” she sputtered, wiping her mouth with the back of one fetlock. “Do you honestly think nopony is going to notice if you start waving around a gun that can kill dragons?”
I pulled my sleeve down over my holster and glared at her. “Sweets, I need every advantage I can get right now. You, me, and everypony we know could be in danger. We don’t know if we can make it to the car, much less back to the Nest. Do I also need to remind you we’re carrying a ridiculously dangerous artifact that could lead to planetary disaster if the wrong pony gets their hooves on it?”
My driver opened her mouth to respond, then closed it.
Don Tome’s construct cleared his throat. “I am afraid it is a moot point, Detective. I do not know how one activates whatever it is that makes this such a formidable weapon. I have some ammunition in my private vault which the seller claimed came from the corpse of a Crusader, but… to all of my scans, it does appear to be dead crystal. Completely inert. Not even capable of holding a magical charge.”
“Huh… alright, we’ll take it anyway.” I rolled up the blueprints for my gun and moved over to my driver’s side, unbuckling her saddlebag and stuffing it inside. “We need to get back to the car and then to the Nest. I’ve got to hide the damn helmet and then...and then, I don’t know. Are there any weapons here we can use in case we’re caught out in the open, besides this shotgun?”
Limerence poked a panel on the mantel and there was a soft click, followed by the sound of a rattling hinge as three wooden sections of the wall turned a hundred and eight degrees, revealing an arsenal that had Taxi’s tongue hanging out of her muzzle.
“We have some conventional options. Father does believe in being prepared, but I’m afraid much of his private armory isn’t the type of thing you are likely to want,” he replied, nodding towards several sets of swords in different types.
Taxi tugged a riot-gun off the wall that was designed for an earth pony, though it did lack for a gun harness. It was a light, repeating model, made for fighting in tight spaces. The barrel wasn’t quite as big as the P.E.A.C.E. cannon, but it looked a whole lot less friendly.
“Sweets, I don’t think that comes in a ‘non-lethal’ flavor,” I said.
“Yeah, well, I’m not feeling terribly ‘non-lethal’ right now. If we get attacked by somepony who can make all of the Don’s guards vanish off of a bunch of rooftops in their own territory, I think I’m going to want supremely lethal.”
Whilst Taxi loaded up her shiny new gun and jury rigged a strap and mouth-string so she could pull the trigger whilst standing on her rear hooves, the others inspected the ordinance on the wall. Limerence fixed himself up with a couple of those silly katanas, some grenades, and something that looked like a couple of weights with a rope between them whilst Swift nosed through a heap of cloth piled in one corner of the little arsenal.
“What’ve you got there, kid?” I asked.
“I… uh…” She lifted it in one hoof. “It’s… Sir… it’s… a combat saddle! I think it’s even in my size,” she squeaked.
“You do not need a combat saddle,” I said, firmly. Swift looked crestfallen.
“Awww, come on Hardy. Let her have the damn thing. We’ve got exactly one genuinely heavy weapon,” Taxi put in, tossing the riot-gun across her back. “I wouldn’t mind another.”
“What do we do when the recoil from one of those heavy machine guns puts her in the hospital, huh?” I growled.
Swift’s ears flattened against her head. “It’s... it’s okay, Sir. I can use something smaller, I guess. I just… I just always w-wanted a combat saddle...”
Way to lay the guilt on thick.
Fighting two fillies was a losing cause and I was seconds from giving in when Don Tome’s construct trotted up to the wall of guns and ran his toe down a tiny list nailed beside it.
“I do believe I have a...hmmm...well, I can’t say how reliable it will be, but I do have a collector’s item which may fit the young lady. Her larger-than-average wingspan could prove to be a benefit. Recoil will not be a problem, although collateral may be.”
I shut my eyes and let out a long-suffering moan. “It can’t be worse than that lightning cannon one of those idiots left behind. I’m pretty sure I saw some bubble-gum holding one of the charging coils in place.”
Tome hesitated for about three seconds longer than was necessary to make me suspicious.
“It’s… not worse than that, right?”
Moving to one side, Tome pointed to a strange looking… thing sitting on a display rack. It had what I thought might be a pair of wide barrels, although each seemed to be composed of several smaller barrels. A metal clasp held the two tubes together, seemingly weighted down in the middle by a wide box. It resembled a set of heavy saddle-bags with weird guns sticking out of them.
“To my knowledge, this weapon has never been fired. It is too small for a griffin and must be wielded by a creature with weather control magic. The issue, according to what little information I could find on it, was that no pegasus ever had a wing-span adequate to the task of charging the capacitors,” Tome murmured, while Limerence held it up with his horn. My partner grinned, spreading her feathers to their full extension, which was almost wide enough to touch both walls of the Don’s office. “It does require a combat saddle to remain in place. It is charged off the static generated by a pegasus in flight at high speed. Sadly...having never seen it fired, I can’t vouch for actual functionality. It is a museum piece, dating back to the earliest days of the P.A.C.T.”
“So you don’t actually know what it does?” Swift grumbled, wiggling the combat saddle on over her bullet proof vest.
“Theoretically? Yes. It fires some form of high intensity energy. The description at auction was a tad vague, however. I think the name speaks for itself.” Tome poked at the list beside him. “It’s designated the Meteorological Spatial Disruption Matrix Generator Mark I. The gentlepony selling it simply called it the ‘Hailstorm’.”
****
“Oof… I want some pads. This thing pinches,” Swift complained, wiggling her hips as she tried for the fifth or sixth time to get her new weapon into a comfortable position on her combat saddle.
“Kid, you’re the one who wanted the untested blaster with words like ‘Spatial’ and ‘Matrix’ in the name. Put up with the pinch,” I grunted.
Don Tome’s construct moved ahead of us, taking his time as we strolled the empty halls of the Archive. It was so desolate there, amongst all those books and the ghosts of the Archivists. They’d guarded Detrot for decades and been wiped out in one bloody afternoon by the very magics they’d trusted to keep them safe. There might never be a memorial service, nor anypony to mourn their passing if we failed our mission. Odds were good we’d all be joining them long before we got to bury our dead.
Every now and then I’d catch a whiff of burned skin, but it was the musty scent of book glue and parchment that really made the place feel like a mausoleum.
“Sir, do we actually… you know… do we actually have a plan once we leave this place?” Swift asked. “My grandmare won’t want us anywhere near the Vivarium with that helmet in tow...”
A tickle of resentment curled in my guts, but I couldn’t blame Granny Glow. We were carting around a bomb and nopony was likely to want it on their doorstep.
“The Nest is secure enough. Right now, we’ve got to regroup. Maybe we can find a way to get in touch with Princess Celestia or Princess Luna. Maybe we can get some solid information out of the law-firm. Heck, maybe we can get in touch with the Don’s lost princess. I don’t even know. I think… this moment, we need rest more than anything,” I said, nodding towards Limerence. The librarian’s head was low and his tail dragged the carpet. He looked liked he’d been dragged by wild horses.
Tome’s construct stopped in the middle of the aisle in front of us, turned in a circle and shut his eyes. Reaching up, he rested his toe against an innocuous looking title on one of the shelves. It looked like a single volume of an encyclopedia in amongst a dozen others.
“My personal vault,” he said, standing to one side.
Lim’s horn lit up and the book glowed, rising off the shelf and dropping into his hooves. He laid it on the carpet with a quiet reverence and stroked the cover for a moment.
“Father, is this everything?”
Tome nodded. “Everything that matters. I keep little else inside the Archive itself. Most everything remains with my vault keepers.”
Opening the book, Limerence tilted his head, examining the hollowed out space. It was the most primitive of security measures, but it was the last thing anypony who knew anything about the Archivists would expect.
Inside the book, a stack of pictures lay beside a small, red diary. It was a fraction the size of the great volume the Don used to chronicle his daily activities, but it had a more personal feel to it. Lifting one of the pictures with his horn, Limerence smiled. It was a picture of himself and his brother, Zefu, side by side, grinning at the camera. At least, Zefu was grinning. Limerence had the same dour expression he always wore, but with a tiny smile sneaking up on one side of his muzzle. They couldn’t have been much more than ten years old.
In another picture, a slightly younger version of his father had one leg wrapped around a very beautiful mare. She looked an awful lot like Lim.
Swift’s brow furrowed as she nosed the book. “That’s it? That’s the most dangerous stuff the Archivists have?”
“Oh, Officer Swift, surely you must know the dangers of sentiment?” The Don chuckled. “But, I digress. My diary lists the names, associations, and various holdings of all those who possess my vaults. There is also helpful blackmail material and bank accounts containing my earnings. The rest is personal effects and essential elements of some of the more destructive artifacts in the collection which keep them from functioning.”
Limerence tilted the book up and set aside the pictures. Behind it was the weirdest mish-mash of trinkets I’d ever seen. There were stones with runes carved into them, a gem with what looked like an insect of some kind inside it, three nails tied together with wire, part of a slinky, and many other little oddities I couldn’t identify.
“Are you sure you didn’t just empty out the glovebox of your car?” I snarked.
Tome raised one eyebrow and pointed at a piece of wood that seemed to be part of a child’s art project. It’d been bent into a half-moon shape and was held in place with a rubber band. “If you ever need to cause a city-leveling explosion, take that to the mall on Sixty Second Street. Stand outside Mother Mosley’s Sundries and face north. Then take the rubber band off.”
That got us hopping a couple steps back from his box.
“Oookay, then… Not going for ice-cream today,” Taxi stammered.
“My dear Miss Shine, you mustn’t worry so. If you spend every day of your life terrified of death by arcane annihilation, you will miss so much. Besides, that particular artifact has a useful caveat, insofar as you can simply replace the rubber band when you need to reverse the explosion.”
“Do I want to know how you know how that works?” I asked, nervously.
“That is another thing you must trust, Detective; you do not want to know how I know many of the things I know. I’m certain your blood-pressure is already high enough with your unhinged bagel habit. The being occupying your heart will not thank you if you add stress to clogged arteries.”
Limerence levitated what appeared to be a revolver clip on a plastic strap out of the box, letting it twisted in mid-air. “I believe this is for you, Detective.”
I plucked strap out of the air, examining the ammunition. It looked like six black crystals tipping brass bullet-cartridges. Somepony had inexpertly cut letters into each of the bullet casings with what might have been a pen-knife. Twisting it in my hooves, I tried to read them. One seemed to be ‘Kind’ or something close to that, while another was ‘Loyal’. Turning it over, I read the remainder; Generous, Joyful, Honest, and Magical.
“Huh. I think the previous owner might, just maybe, have been a weirdo,” I commented.
“Quite likely. The Crusaders were excellent killers, but what I have gleaned from their records indicates they were poor soldiers,” Tome said. “Their personalities were chosen for flexibility and ‘outside the box’ thinking. This tended to mean they had… quirks. I am unaware of the meaning of those words, sadly. Most likely they meant something to the weapon’s original owner.”
“Hmmm… I guess it can’t hurt to give these a try, if I find myself in a jam.”
“Do make certain it is definitely a ‘jam’ Detective, since I cannot say whether or not it will actually fire, nor what the effect will be when it does.”
“No worse than a ‘Hailstorm’, right?”
“The Crusader can slice through a dragon’s hide like a high speed train through a bowl of warm pudding. Please… do be careful with it,” he said, giving me a meaningful look.
“When am I ever not careful?”
“Oh, stripes of my forefathers, I may have doomed the species…”
****
We stopped at the front entrance of the Archive to say our goodbyes. I’d managed not to cry again, but it was only sheer exhaustion that kept the tears away. My heart ached and I could still feel those familiar old impulses to climb down the neck of a whiskey bottle clawing at my self-control.
Limerence and his father’s construct faced one another, neither seeming to know exactly what to say.
It was the Don who finally broke the silence that was quickly becoming weighed down with sad thoughts.
“I do wish you to know, that I am… and I was… very proud of you, Limerence,” Tome said, with quiet reservation. His ageless face was as kindly as ever. “I may never be as your father was, but his memories will continue as long as my systems operate. You may call me up at any time you need to consult with him.”
The librarian lowered his eyes and pulled his soiled kerchief out of his vest pocket, staring at the tear-stained thing for several minutes before tucking it away again. Taxi offered him one of hers and he took it gratefully, blowing his nose and stuffing it into the same pocket as the other one.
“I know, father. I will find my brother’s killer… and yours. I will bring back the Archivists and make sure your legacy lives on.”
Tome bowed his head to his son, then stepped back and turned to me.
“You promised me you would care for my son, Detective. He is now his own stallion, but I would appreciate it if you would make certain he can fulfill his vows. It will bring comfort to an old stripe to know you are there for him in the times I cannot be.”
“Well, we’ve got to lock this place down and make sure nopony can get inside. Once that’s done… I promise, we’ll be back. Is there some way we can contact you if we’re not here?” I asked.
He nodded. “Of course. I will monitor the communication room. I am a simple ritual away.” He paused, contemplating something. “I… must issue a warning before you leave. A warning regarding the helm of Nightmare Moon.”
I flicked an ear in his direction. “I’ve known you long enough to know that ‘warning’ tends to mean ‘listen or die’.”
He stepped up to the revolving doors of the Archive and staring out into the empty street, seeming to gather his thoughts. “You are aware that the armor of Nightmare Moon is... not to be trifled with, but the helmet, even if it is not attached to the other parts, is dangerous. Whatsoever you do, do not put it on unless you have exhausted all of your remaining options. I cannot say what it will do, but the madness of Astral Skylark began the night she wore that helm.”
“I hadn’t intended on it. I’ve got a call to make to some slightly stupid bat ponies to see if we’ve got some other means of contacting Celestia. Then I think I’m going to get a drink.”
****
Limerence waved his horn over the runes on the outside of the Archive’s door and they flashed in a repeat of the sequence before going dark. Behind the tinted glass, the Don’s construct stood there watching us with an expression of carefully controlled calm. After a moment, he turned and trotted back between the bookshelves, vanishing like just one more spirit in the throng of the dead.
The librarian still had his brother’s staff across his back along with his new swords, one in a sheath on each side of his body and another within easy reach of his muzzle if he leaned back far enough. I couldn’t see where he’d secreted the grenades, but working a beat I’d seen thugs braid guns into their tails or hide shivs in their feathers.
“Detective? I… I wish to thank you for your continued support,” Limerence said, pensively.
“Your father helped me through some hard times and I’ll do what I can for his memory. In any sane world, I’d give you a week to drink tea, sleep, and do whatever it is you do in your spare time… but I need you, right now. We’ve got to figure out something to do with the helmet.”
“We must get back to the vehicle. Our defenses are in operation and I saw no traffic either by air or by ground on any of the monitors, but once we pass the outside edge of my territory, I can no longer guarantee our safety.”
“Your territory, huh?” I said, giving him a sideways glance.
Limerence raised his nose a little. “As I am the last operational Archivist and the sole legal ownership of this building and all surrounding structures has fallen to me...yes, my territory.” He deflated a bit as the weight of that reality sank in. “I do wish Father had informed me I was being considered as an heir…”
I raised one eyebrow. “Come again? Why wouldn’t your father consider you?”
“I am not his blood. My brother was hot-headed, but he had connections and charisma. I am a librarian. My personality is often… uncompromising and I do not display traits most often associated with leadership.” He closed his eyes and there was a hitch in his voice as he continued, “I have nopony to lead now, but I have his cause. If other ponies will follow me, I will resurrect the Archivists one day. Until then, I must simply be content with seeing them avenged.”
“Well, your revenge thing is going to have to wait to see whether or not we can make it back to the car,” I reminded him. “Lets get moving.”
****
Swift coasted in high speed circles overhead, doing loop and dips that would throw off the aim of even the best sniper while the rest of us crept up the sides of the nearby buildings, doing our best to keep out of lines of fire. I don’t know that there is anypony who enjoys walking into potentially hostile terrain without a clue as to what they might be facing, but between the four of us, we were carrying enough hardware to level a small building, not counting the potential unknown features of our weaponry.
There’s no solid game-plan in any manual I’ve ever read for moving through city streets. Even the best planned offensive actions tend to fall prey to guerilla tactics. Something about the shape of a city just adores setting up these vicious scenarios where you can walk headlong into a hail of gunfire with absolutely no warning.
That said, either our caution paid off or they weren’t waiting for us. I find it more likely to be the latter. While even the most skilled flier was likely to have trouble keeping up with Swift in a straight-line burn, I counted a half dozen places between the Archive and the car where we poor ground-pounders could have been cut down by one pony with decent aim.
The Night Trotter was exactly where we’d left it, tucked just off the road, security system enabled.
Gathering around the trunk, we all took a deep breath, then opened it.
The helm was right where we’d left it, wrapped in the sheet, glaring malevolently up at us. I let out a breath I’d been holding for almost an hour.
“Phew… Sweets?”
“Yeah, Hardy?”
“Drive.”
****
We peeled out of there at speeds both illegal and unhealthy, with arcs of electricity streaking after us as Taxi revved the Night Trotter right to the red line. Swift and I curled up on the back seat together, her trying to stuff a rag under her combat saddle so the ridiculous double-barrelled whatever-it-was would stop chafing and me trying to keep from letting myself think too many deep thoughts.
After a few minutes of silence too uncomfortable to bear, Taxi finally turned on the radio.
“Queen on the scene here, Gypsy! We’re riding high on the news of the oncoming Summer Sun celebration here in just a couple of days! Now, ponies best be aware that-”
I mentally tuned Gypsy out, trying to find space in my misery for some actual planning. Planning what, I had no idea. The city-scape tore by at a frantic pace, but if police ponies were watching, none of them decided to test their cruisers against the Night Trotter. Normal ponies don’t ride the lightning and chasing those who do is a good way to get yourself killed.
In the back of my mind, that grossly masochistic part of me that enjoyed the madness was crowing while my heart pounded and my stomach turned at the thought of what I’d just witnessed back at the Archive. It was somehow worse than Supermax. Who am I kidding? Of course it was worse. Supermax was a slaughter, but it was for a reason. There were no innocent bystanders, unaware of what evils they were committing. Everypony in that room paid to watch somepony raped.
The Archivists kept their activities restrained and corpses never piled up around them. They were as close to benign as it was possible for a criminal organization to get. Who had butchered them? A monster, yes, but one who’d worked from the inside.
That was becoming a theme. First Svelte at the Vivarium, then Reginald Bari at Cosmo’s, Geranium with Skylark, and now… the traitor.
“-events going on down at the Moonwalk could turn ugly any minute. Princess Celestia has promised to send diplomats to defuse the situation and they should be arriving tonight. I’ll be bringing you more news, but first, lets talk about Starlight. That’s right! Starlight Industries, our favorite ecological matter-munchers and magical miscreants who are funding this year’s Detrot Summer Sun Celebration-”
“Sweets, could you turn that down for a second?” I asked.
“I don’t want to hear myself think right now, Hardy. If I do, I’m worried I might start screaming.”
“-can’t say I’m surprised by these revelations, but then the company could use a face-lift after how long it’s taken them to finish construction on that ridiculous tower-”
I didn’t even have the energy to yell. I wanted to yell, but I was too worn out.
“Sweets, I’m half-way to screaming as it is and I need some silence. The Don is dead and I’m probably going to spend the next week crying myself to sleep-”
“What?! Who did you say is dead?!”
Everypony in the car glanced back and forth at one another, then four sets of eyes turned on the radio.
They say collective insanity can and does strike large groups of ponies under high stress situations, making them believe unusual, even bizarre things. I was already not likely to win any awards for mental clarity, but everypony else seemed to have heard that, too.
I leaned towards the radio. “Just so I know I’m crazy, could you… the radio… go ahead and say something else?”
There was static from the speakers for several seconds longer than it took for me to convince myself we were all just nuts. So when Gypsy spoke again, even Taxi jumped.
“I guess this particular cat isn’t going back in the bag, is it? Commercial break time, everypony!”
In the background, an advert for some kind of gum started playing.
I glanced up just in time to swat Taxi on the shoulder so she swerved back into the right lane, then turned my attention back to the radio.
“Right, so… I’m going to assume you can hear me, and also you’re not a byproduct of three or four fractured psyches,” I groaned, resting my forehead against my heel.
“Oh… yeah. Sorry, Detective. You’ve been the most interesting thing on the Signal for days. Now, what do you mean Don Tome is dead?”
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Woah, woah, woah...what's this? A cleverly written and thoroughly entertaining noir detective story involving ponies? You mean there are stories on this site that aren't just glorified bits of sapphic horse porn? Wow.
the gun is the reason he cannot be tracked? ...... dunno if that make ssense to me. largely the part that does not make sense is that while i can definitely acknowledge it would block magic scans, hardy ingested a magical tracking spell. seems a little odd that the weapon could repel what sliped into his body.
though i do like the idea that the gun is more than it seemed. something was just off about it i think. as old and beaten up as it was, the thing was always surprisingly reliable. and somehow bucky never lost it no matter how confused and chaotic things got.
wait a moment...... the little factors behind these crusader weapons..... were they based on the elements of harmony perhaps? or were the elements studied and they found out how to isolate the excalibur, chosen one type elements of the elements? ......... wait. if that is true, and the moon cannons were also part of that design........ either the gun repelled the moonblast or the cannons just do not work against 'good' beings........
might be reaching a bit for the latter but this is interesting.
........... okay either their radio was secretly a listening device this whole time or this certain pony has abilities that lets her hear people through the radios. one or the other.........
Thought so...
Although that the radio pony can hear through the radio was a massive surprise.
...It's all going to come down the Summer Celebration isn't it.
Also...wow...I really did not see that coming with Gypsy. Good job.
5626827 seems plausible that something could happen then........ though reasons why it would, would be in question. seems unlikely celestia would be so far away from canterlot.
5626638 Well, yes. I mean, there's also lots of male gay horse porn, too.
5626761 But wait! There's more!
-Chessie
5626761 and i think they are in fact alive. if i am not mistaken, gyspy herself mentioned her mother fighting in the wars, and the war scooters.
5626876 Can't wait!
Well, I've gotta say that, per this chapter, the news of Hardy's Crusader heritage and the gun's abilities were pretty big news.
But the biggest head trip of it all was that thing with the radio that just happened. Holy fuck.
Damn, I gotta go reread all the chapters involving the radio sometime.
5626875
Considering she went to Ponyville that one time...
5626878 Well I suspect they're chilling out with Twi somewhere.
5626896 ponyville, which was pretty close to canterlot and was likely a place of itnerest to her to begin with, with its close proximity to her old castle and the tree and such.
detrot is at the very fringe of equestrian borders, where the grasp of the regal sisters is at its weakest.
5626911
So its a goodwill mission designed to boost support for the crown. I bet she will be there, if only because the author is paying homage to the start of the tv series.
5626892
We have been setting Gypsy up since Chapter-Motherfucking-1. It is SO good to get her on the table, finally.
--CEO Kasen
5626972
gddaym
5626916 by the power of reserach!!!!........ no, they are not. both celestia and luna are going to work with fixing the alignment of the moon and sun during the summer sun celebration. apparently what is gonna happen however is a twelve hour long eclipse.
so likely they are stuck in canterlot. because they seem like they are gonna be slightly vulnerable as they focus on the moon.
5626972 suspected as much. albeit how she is being included is still interesting.
Yeah the original crusaders. Of course I bet they still get covered in tree sap when their missions are accomplished
5626976
I refuse to believe that the multiple mentions of the Summer Celebration are red herrings and not Chekov's guns.
5626876
Ew.
5627099 the eclipse itself seems to hold importance, but the regal sisters are proccupied.
i forget when chapter, but it is one of the earlier ones of this arc of the story. think around the time hardy talks with don.
You bastards, you magnificent bastards. That revel came from so far out of left field that I nearly followed Hardy and the Crew out of my seat when you dropped it.
On another note I am very worried for what you have in store for our beloved detective. He and the crew are now in possession of not one, but two devices the are effectively hand held wave motion guns and the magical equivalent of a tactical nuke and I know that he is going to need them.
I eagerly await the physical and emotional punishment that awaits Hard Boiled in the future.
5626761
Crusaders never die, they go to Hell and regroup.
This story is wayyyyyyyyyyyyy too long for me to start on now, so I'll just say this:
Before Luna's return: peace and harmony and happy frolicking pony utopia for a thousand years!
After Luna's return: murder and mayhem and misery and suffering and insanity and savagery.
THERE'S YOUR PRINCESS OF THE NIGHT FOR YA!!!
All hail the Celestial Empress!
WHAT
WHAT
WHAT
5608863 This comment is something right out of Terry Pratchett
5627124 I have so much of that in my faves folder...
5627247 Awww, come on! Give it a go! I promise, you won't regret it.
If you've read the comics, they do paint a slightly different picture of Equestria than that 'thousand years of peace' bullshit that Celestia has on the propaganda posters.
Namely, Celestia was boinking inter-dimensional prince-gods, Luna spent the whole time being mentally chewed on by shadow-demons, and there have been multiple attacks by dragons, sirens, hydras, silke's, ogres, minotaurs, harts, diamond dogs, and a few dozen other nasty beasts. Equestria is a shitty place. This isn't even to speak of the diplomatic issues with the deer or the universe hopping technology thefts Celestia used to jump-start the Equine industrial revolution.
Before you call 'bullshit', I promise, that's all in the comicbooks.
-Chessie
5627299 And yet, Sig won't write anything! It's very annoying.
-Chessie
5627338 Yeah... all in the comic books...
It's not the show canon. It's now clearly parallel canon. That whole nonsense with the deer settled the issue once and for all.
Seriously, a race living in the Everfree that no one ever mentioned at all up to this point? Not even Zecora? And I am quite certain they'll never appear in the show.
Plus, the show Celestia would not be going gaga over an alt-universe Sombra.
And the comic itself hasn't exactly been 100% consistent with itself. That random 'law' Twilight spouted which plot-conveniently prevented her from using magic against someone against their will? Heh, check back with previous comics and you'll find that hasn't exactly been the case up to that point.
Anyway, Luna sucks.
5627338 you really shouldn't try and validate alondro here. he is a picky sob if there ever was one.
and i honestly think you are exaggerating........ to a point. their world has a lot of threats but the ponies are clearly well adapted to dealing with them considering how peacefully they live othrewise. and considering each species has their own pwoers to make use of against enemies. not to mention it seems legitimate war is a very, very rare occurrence in mlp. if the last war to occur was about fiftey years ago, that means they have gone fifty years without a war. our world cannot go five years without some new conflict rearing its head.
compared to war after war after war in our world, monster attacks are a picnic. especially since ponies thrive in this surprisingly hostile environment.
put simply, ponies are kinda badasses.
i would classify it as peace, but realistic peace. peace is sustained through effort. celestia fought for a thousand years to keep her land safe and allow ponies to develop as they may. there is only happily ever after in equestria if you earn it.
reason why i do fully accept the events of your story whoever is that this is a place at the fringe of equestrian influence after a somewhat recent time of strife for equestria, and something appears to be intentionally amplifying the strife beyond what would naturally occur.
5626972
Gypsy doesn't show up until Chapter 7, though...
And the plot twists! Again! :D
5627338 also the comics are......... flawed. i actually blame the representation we had with that whole celestia going gaga thing on katie cook being out of her element there. she is a good writer if she does slice of life and comedy, but her attempts at adventure stories are always confused. she is too busy making jokes in situations where they weaken impact of the story.
also no, the stuff they found on the other side did not jump start equestria. remember that hwole dimension hoopla. they stopped bringing stuff to studied and locked away the stuff they took.
though that is no better explained than why celestia entered the portal agian. word of god stated that she had actually willingly abstained from using the portal ever again, until alternate sombra popped up and pleaded for aid a millenium later.
like i said, the adventure comics are flawed.
also the problem with the deer is less political and more confused....... and also more Celestia being polite and not smashing that asshole buck's head through a tree till he stops the hwole vine thing from continuing.
5627458 I promise, I'm not exaggerating. The comics are fucking crazy. We got an awful lot of our best stuff from them.
-Chessie
5627513 i read the comics too and find it an exaggeration still. there has always been a bit of a dark undertone in fim. the peace of equestria is the realistic, you gotta crack some skulls to sustain it type of peace.
put simply it is realistic, imperfect peace. there is no way threats will just ignore you, they will come. put simply, yo ugotta earn your happy ending in equestria, and the ponies seem pretty damn good at it. heck they warded off an attack by several giant mutated cockatrice in less than a night. just goes to show how hard core ponies can be.
besides only two incidents in the entire comic series were legitimately threatening. the whole alternate world arc and the ngithmare rarity arc.
will admit that the likes of alicorns seem to be essential for ponies. they can handle a lot of threats but entities like sombra, chrysalis, and so on are a bit too up there for them to handle. they are more powerful than them. probably why celestia has clearly been making an effort to increase the number of power houses that will protect equestria. the mane six grow stronger and stronger, cadance and shining rule the crystal empire, discord is now fully on the side of the ponies rather than kinda on their side, and that is only the things we know about.
Every shot of this story is like sweet medicine to my veins. God I love this story.
5627247 I hope you might reconsider, but understand its daunting. The length, and the plot is something huge. But, its worth it It really is.
5627349 And a lovely chapter, super glad this updated. Though the question of the radio is something I look forward to. Still, as bad as it might be for so many, you gotta really feel the worst for hardy. To be targeted so. And he is anymore on the target list..
Swift, hehehe, keeps on being just plain adorable. It's like this odd adorable 'oh dear heavens i'm on fire!!' for that one. And you d'aww at said foe on fire for her accuracy.
5627247
You don't know what you're missing - this story is AWESOME.
As for that ending: well, at least we know how Gypsy was hearing everything. I wonder if its just Taxi's radio or everpony who tunes into her show... actually, what are others tuned in hearing while she's talking to the Night Trotter? How does that work? Was the whole thing with Twilight a giant red herring? How many chapters until somebody puts on the helm? What ever happened to Rachael?
So many questions!
5627513 and the reason why it seems so crazy largely has to do with far too much dissonance in how the story is told. there is always room for chuckles in mlp, but it normally knows not to have jokes going on when someone is in legitimate trouble.
iun the comics, especially the katie cook ones, the writing is more deranged than what is actually occurring i think. katie is very good at comedy and slice of life but she is not very good with adventure stories. she far too often mixes in comedy in situation that do not need comedy, and it often ruins such moments.
alt sombra becoming corrupted intentionally was soooo fcuking hurt by that hwole celestia broken heart bubble.
O. O
O. O
That is all
O. O
5627513 ......... so i guess my analysis on exagerration is because the ponies themselves are in reality batshit crazy magical monsters by the end of the day. their world is not that shitty for them because they can handle monsters at large. short of demon lord type enemies, dragons, and more abstract creatures, they can handle the majority of threats. be it through earth pony strength, unicorn magic, or pegasus weather and speed.
........ which makes the Tirek incident all the more dark and dangerous. without their magic, they are left immensely vulnerable. they cannot defend themselves nearly as well against timberwolves, and probably not at all against the likes of manitcores and chimeras. put simply the world would become truly a crapsack world for them.
Dang, was not expecting yall to put out a new chapter this quick! I love it!
l.popoffka.ru/ponies/mane6/twilight/a08.jpg
Well, I always knew the gun was special (you did say back in the first chapter it was a war era gun converted to shoot regular bullets), though didn't suspect it was THAT special! Also the fact that it is responsible for him not being tracked puts the final nail in the coffin of my theory that he got the immunity to magical tracking from his mom's bloodline (though someone in the comments long ago did say it was the gun, so kudos to them). Also, given its unique crystal bullets "attributes", should they meet the former Princess of Friendship, she will either: a) get one of her infamous eye twitch/hair-sproing moments of frustration or b) fall over laughing her plot off, thus making Hardy and associates think she is certifiably nuts (which she is lol).
Speaking of guns, why do I have a feeling when we see the "Hailstorm" in action I am going to love it as much as Swift?
Speaking of our favorite omnivorous Pegasus, given Swift's looks and personality (and penchant for collateral damage), it is almost certain that her other grandmother is The Destroyer aka Scootaloo. Which makes sense as her body was never discovered during the Cutie Mark Crusades... though makes me wonder if her grave shown in your Nightmare Night side-story is empty. Also hilarious as Scoots HATED having tiny wings, so makes sense her granddaughter would have huge honking ones. So might be that Egg Head (Hard Boiled 1) wasn't the only Crusader to survive the war, but we shall see.
5626827 I would think something would happen at that celebration, given that Nightmare Moon came back and was restored back to Luna on that day years ago... plus Starlight Industries is sponsoring it, so there's that.
5626726 I think I already know how Gypsy can hear them... it's quite telling in her greeting to her audience.
Anyways, CEOKasen and Chessie, I throughly enjoyed this chapter and cannot wait to see what you two have in store for us next. So until next time, have a good evening and take care!
5626638 Ah, a new reader to this wonderful story! Welcome! Please keep your seat in an upright position, hands and feet tucked in, and that you properly stowed your sanity safely away... cause you are in for a heck of a ride!
Dude... If those are what I think they are... Even if they aren't, just the idea that they could be... That was a suckerpunch right in the bucking feels. Not gonna lie, it's a little dusty around my computer suddenly.
5627788 no i do not think they are, but i think i know for sure now. the crusader weapons are likely designed off of aspects of the elements of harmony. an attempt to replicate them........ a failed attempt i would wager if they are so limited as to be only weapons and nothing more.
though the question is why do they use moonlight instead of expelling harmony magic?
Well, Scootaloo was a badass, and now Swifty is becoming one too. She has now has her very own super-weapon!
God I hope that thing works. Also, I wonder if the Crusaders are still alive, the three original ones I mean.
5627513 ....... guess i am being a little too forceful here.
put simply the ponies, as i see it, make their world less shitty than it would seem. because they have abilities that allow them to level the playing field with a large majority of potential threats. so they can do things like live at the edge of an eldritch forest and thrive in a world full of monsters because they are pretty much monsters in their own way.
of course without those abilities, and species like donkeys more than likely, and the world becomes a truly terrifying place.
5627882 If they're not, it took something spectacular to kill them...and if they are, what are they up to?
-Chessie
Act 2, Chapter 44: "Crazy Talk"- nothing of note
THE PLOT THICKENS.
Blood lines of protectors that Hardy and I guess Taxi fit into. (Actually makes a lot of sense on some levels.)
Magical guns.
Celestia coming to town.
Motherfucking people listening to you over the radio.
And STILL no climax in sight.
Shit, I don't know. Dragons still on a blood feud?
This just keeps getting more complex by the chapter.
This has certainly come a LONG way.
Most captivating story I have ever read.
Shots fired!5628033 actually no. celestia and luna are probably going to be in canterlot and are trying to fix a few problems with the moon alignment. gonna cause a 12 hour solar eclipse.