//------------------------------// // Prologue - The Last Resort // Story: Pony Genius: Twilight Sparkle and the Intertwined Gate // by Kotatsu Neko //------------------------------// When touring the Europan countryside, one would scarce be amiss in paying a visit to the thriving city of Pferdenburg, capital of the Barony of the same name. Once the holding of a minor and despotic noble, Pferdenburg has long since broken free from ignominy and has joined enlightened society with what is almost certainly not a literal vengeance. It can be found a half-day's travel north of Beetleburg (coach travel is recommended, as events of an uncertain but dangerous nature have been known to happen to air vessels), which places it within Wulfenbach lands yet just within reach of the Lady Heterodyne's influence. Though it boasts many splendors of antiquity, Pferdenburg's most significant edifice is perhaps - and the title is precise, so pay attention - the 'Her Lady of Ephemeral Grace Grand Baroness Suzy-Mae's Academy for Scientifically Gifted and Spirited Young Ladies who Nevertheless Know Their Place'. (Residents will call it the Academy, but they will expect visitors to at least attempt to speak the whole name before giving directions.) There, a new generation of Sparks are even now advancing their skills in all the mad sciences, without having to worry about the unfortunate predations of the world that once plagued female students of the Craft. At least, no more than one would expect from a university town with approximately 57 pubs and watering holes per square kilometer. A small note, however: until they become more familiar with how the social structure works, it behooves visitors to keep an eye on the streetlights and move to safety if they change abruptly. One does not want to be out in the open when the Cityscape comes into conflict with itself. - from Lady Von Fekenhaur’s ‘A Charming Guide to Europa’s Cities’ With a grunt, Sturk heaved the load he was carrying onto a workbench, causing a clattering that all but shook the walls around him. He surveyed the assorted parts with a critical eye, eventually making a dissatisfied tch noise. Some he could salvage, but many of them – far too many – would have to be melted down and reforged. He need to have a talk with them again, he really did. He told them; he told them, didn’t he? How often had he told them? He was a mechanic, not a Spark. He could patch things up, but the best he was able to manage on this ship was only ever going to be ‘good enough, for now’, and 'for now' had been a very long time at this point. That was the problem with repairing a vessel designed by Sparks, people who specialize in making the rules of physics bend to their whims. He didn’t know what they could see when they went into the Madness Place, and quite frankly he didn’t want to know. But it meant his ability to repair or replace damaged parts was always going to be sharply limited; it took a Spark to make a triangular rod with more than 180 degrees to its vertices. Really, it was a testament to his skills that this place hadn’t fallen apart completely by now. And that was just the airship. When it came to anything more complicated… As if on cue, the room shuddered with the familiar sound and feel of the main hatch cycling open. The bridge of the ship was just above Sturk’s workshop, and his ceiling rang with a crescendo of little footsteps. Oh, good. They were back. With the foresight that came from repetition, he kicked an empty wheeled bin, which rolled across the room until it came to reset beneath the ladder leading upwards. Then, pausing only to adjust his mechanic’s cap, he turned his attention to the parts, sorting them into ‘scrap’ and ‘not-scrap’ piles. Soon, feminine voices could be heard floating down the maintenance shaft. “Wow, that was fun!” one said, following it with a peal of laughter. “Heck yeah, it was fun!” another agreed. “Didja see the part where I ripped that big one’s arm off and hit him with it?” “Well, he did have five others, darling,” noted a third. “Ehn. It was still funny.” The third voice tittered. “It rather was, wasn’t it?” “Um.” A fourth, hesitant voice managed to speak up. “M-maybe we shouldn’t have gone so overboard? The battleforms look pretty… banged up.” “Aw, c’mon,” the first voice said. “They’re fine, they’re fine! See?” There was a clatter, and a brief pause. “...okay, this one’s head just fell off, but that’s no big deal, right? HEY MISTER STUUUUUUURK!” A badly mangled collection of scorched steel and shattered bronze fell through the hatch and into the waiting bin; two more soon followed, and if they were less damaged than the first it was impossible to tell. “FIX THESE, PLEASE AND THANK YOOOOUUU!” Sturk looked over at the bin with a scowl and a tch. “Naw, she’s got a point, y’all,” the fifth and final voice decided; as she spoke, Sturk heard the sound of metal sliding along grooves as she opened her reintegration chamber door. “I kinda remember him sayin’ somethin’ about startin’ ta run low on ‘em.” Sturk glared upward for a moment, then muttered in annoyance and chucked a broken flywheel into the scrap pile. The second voice said, “Aw, it’s fine. We’ve got dozens left. Besides, what choice do we have?” More doors opened, which was unusual; it must have been a difficult fight, Sturk thought, if they all needed reintegration. “We can’t just let those jerks run around loose. They pop their heads up, we have to pound ‘em back down!” “Quite so. We have a duty, after all.” One by one the doors slid shut, though this did not mute the voices coming from within. “And that’s all well and good, sugarcube, but what happens if we run outta forms?” The third voice let out what could only be called a dismissive sputter. “Oh, surely that won’t happen for ages! I have the greatest respect for Mister Sturk, but he is something of a fussbudget.” ...oh, that did it. That just did it! Sturk stood up and, with one hand, slid the overfull bin away from the ladder. “Ho,” he growled as he climbed, his rough voice carrying upwards, “a fossbodjit, em Hy?” He stepped onto the bridge and glowered at the large bronze cylinder marked with three diamond-shaped gems. “Iz dot vhat hyu really tink?” Well over two meters tall and hugely muscled, with gray-green skin, the Jägermonster could look intimidating without even trying. The entity in the cylinder hesitated awkwardly. Even through a thick layer of solid metal, her guilt and embarrassment were almost palpable. “Oh! Um. I, I didn’t mean that in an insulting way at all, darling. It’s just that… well, I have the utmost faith in your ability to keep everything running!” Sturk sighed, running a hand over his befanged face. “Sixty Gottdem years… all dis time, hyu never leesened to a seengle vord Hy’ve said, haf hyu?” “We know, we know,” came the voice in the rainbow-marked cylinder. “You’re a mechanic, not a Spark. We get it! But come on, how hard can it be to fix the battleforms?” His response was a long and colorful oath in purest Jägerspeak, though slightly muffled because Sturk had started chewing on his cap in frustration. “What did I say?” “How?! How ken hyu be so schtoopid?!” He gestured wildly toward the cylinders. “Vit vhat hyu all are, vy donchu know anytink about-” An alarm suddenly blared, and red lights flashed across the bridge. Groans came from the cylinders. “Aw, c’mon! Really?! Already?” "Oh, dear. Do you think we missed one?" "No way! This has to be a new batch!" “But we just started reintegration! This is most uncalled for!” “C’mon, y’all. No use gripin’ about it. Mister Sturk, coudja bring up a fresh set of forms while we get ready?” The cylinder doors were already beginning to open. The Jägermonster narrowed his eyes. “Ho. Hyu need to get ready? Hy gets hyu goot und ready.” With that, he took two steps and pulled down a large lever painted with yellow and black stripes. Immediately, the alarm cut off, the main hatch was bolted shut, and restraints rose to wrap around the cylinders, sealing them closed. Shouts of surprise and outrage came from the cylinders. “What in tarnation do ya think yer doin’?!” “This isn’t funny!” “Release us at once, do you hear?! We have a duty!” Sturk crossed his arms. “Ya, vell, Hy haf a duty too, leetel horse pipple. Und right now eet tells me to not let hyu keel hyuselves, hey? My Lady vould be cross vit me if dot heppened.” The rainbow cylinder's occupant groaned in exasperation. “Fine! We’ll finish reintegration, but then we have to go!” “Und Hy’m telling hyu dot hyu ain’t goin’ anyvere-” “We most certainly are-” “Becoz,” he continued, “hyu ain’t got no battleforms left!” Silence reigned. “That’s… that’s preposterous,” the diamond cylinder managed. “We can’t have gone through them all.” “Hy’m tellink hyu, dere ain’t any left.” He pointed at two tall mechanical forms propped up near the main hatch. One of them was still smoldering gently. “Dose two are de last ov dem, und Hy ken tell from here dey ain’t combat-ready.” “Wha...” The cylinder marked with apples stammered for a moment. “Why in Sweet Apple Acres didn’t ya tell us?!” “HY HAF!” he bellowed, his expression one of maddened frustration. “Dis iz de seventh time ve haf had dis conversation! Effry single time hyu went out, Hy told hyu how many forms vere left! Und effry single time hyu came bek, eet’s all ‘feex de battleforms, Meester Sturk! Fife more, pleez!’ Hyu know Hy ken’t feex dem proper! Hy know hyu know dat! Bot hyu hear dat dem alarm und hyu chost... forget!” Another silence, then: “That… that just plain can’t be true. How could we all forget?” “Um...” The butterfly cylinder spoke up. “I think he’s right. Remember last month when I stayed behind because of that cute bunny we found?” Rainbow cylinder groaned. “That thing. Don’t remind me.” “W-well, I remember him telling you all we were running low, and you said you’d be careful… but when you got back, the battleforms were all broken and nobody seemed to care. I, I didn’t want to make a scene or anything, and then the next time I went out I sort of… forgot.” “Aw, succotash!” the apple cylinder said in sudden realization. “It’s because of the override code, ain’t it? Probably just erased any memories that got in the way of respondin' to the alerts!” “And we’ve been having to go out so often lately,” the balloon cylinder added, “we’ve been burning through the forms faster than ever! And we never even realized it!” “This is terrible! A complete disaster!” Diamond would clearly have thrown herself on a suitably dramatic couch if she could. “Is there really no way to get any more forms working?” Rainbow asked. Sturk shook his head. “Dese two, hy ken patch op de frames, but dot’s about eet. Hy don’t like de look ov de smokink von, either. For de rest… only hef ov dem haf intact cores anymore, und hef ov dem got dere frames destroyed. Dot’s steel a lot vhat don’t need too moch feexing, bot eet’s steel more dan Hy ken do.” He shook his head again. “Hyu need a Spark. Hyu needed a Spark years ago.” A third silence descended, much longer than the last two. “So… that’s it, then,” Apple declared. “We’re goin’ to Pferdenburg.” Another sputter from Diamond. “Are you quite mad, darling?! We aren’t allowed back in Pferdenburg!” “And we’ve got that aleeeeert,” Balloon whined. “It itches!” Apple's voice was stern. “Ain’t got no choice. This has gotta be our top priority now, and you know we can’t just pick up some hayseed with a death ray. We need someone who’s got a foundation of knowledge, but who’s still learnin’. That means a student, and Pferdenburg’s got scores of ‘em. Where else are we gonna find the right Spark?” “Well, we… we could go to… Mechanicsburg?” Diamond suggested. “Dot’s not heppenink,” Sturk said firmly. “My Lady doesn’t appreciate poachink.” “All right, then… there's Transylvania Polygnostic, in Beetleburg. That's quite the renowned university." “Yeah, but...” Rainbow interjected. “...remember the whole thing with the giant hairdryer? And all those monkeys? And the moat?” “THAT WAS MY BEST. PLAN. EVERRRR!” “...oh. Yes. They definitely would not want us hanging around again.” Diamond suddenly gasped. “Or Paris! Oh, that’s a simply marvelous idea! A bustling town with millions of people, the greatest university in all of Europa...” “And the Master of Paris gettin' in our business from sun up to sundown and back ta sun up again,” Apple countered. “Besides, it’s too far away. We gotta keep the alerts on lockdown until we get some forms back online, or we'll just forget again. That's gonna make it tough enough as it is; addin' extra travel time would be even worse. No, Pferdenburg's right close, so that’s where we’re goin’." There was still an air of reluctance on the bridge, and Apple sighed. "I know what y'all're thinkin', and yer right. But she's gone now, and it's been sixty years besides. This is our best chance of findin' the Spark we need, and if it brings up bad memories in the process... well, that's just somethin' we're gonna hafta deal with. We've still got each other, and we're stronger now than we were. We can make it through this.” For several long seconds there was no response, then: "Yes, of course you're right, darling. We can do this!" "Yeah!" said Rainbow. "I wanna see what they've done with the place since we left, too! This is gonna be awesome!" Apple gave a soft sigh of relief. "All right, then. Mister Sturk, if you would, please?" Sturk nodded. “Hokay, Hy tek care ov eet." He hesitated and looked away, embarrassed. "Und Hy'm... ah... zorry for vhat Hy said bek dere. Hy didn't realize-” "Oh, think nothing of it," Butterfly assured him. "We know you're always looking out for us." The other cylinders voiced their agreement. He gave an extremely toothy grin. "Of corz! Dot iz my duty, after all." He clambered up to the navigation console and gripped the controls. “Should be fife hours to Pferdenburg. Hyu girls chost relax und get better, hey?” “Much obliged, darling,” Diamond said, though her voice was tinged with worry. "Somethin' wrong, sugarcube?" Apple asked. “Well, no, but… I mean, I'm with you all one hundred percent, I assure you! I just... hope we don’t regret this. That was an awfully large armada chasing us when we left.” "W-with really big guns," Butterfly added. “Don’t worry,” Balloon said reassuringly. “I’m sure they’ve forgotten allllll about it. It wasn’t even that big of a crater!” The Great Pferdenburg Crater is another impressive feature of the city. Nearly half a kilometer across, it is a perfectly smooth bowl cut into the land east of the city, slicing through buildings and part of a large hummock that used to be the site of the famous and lamented Pferdenburg National Cheese Museum. It was created approximately sixty years ago (the crater, not the museum), and its cause is something of a mystery, as the populace have a tendency to redirect such inquiries with offers to sell "Everything's Greater at the Crater" merchandise. Much of the crater and the damage it caused remains preserved, by Baronial decree, and a waist-high wall was built around its circumference to prevent injury to tourists and careless pedestrians. Bits of the crater still glow quite attractively at night, but the most impressive part is the huge sign that arches overhead. Little expense was spared in its creation; it is finely engraved and gold plated, and among the pictorial record of the Barony one can read the sign’s message in seventeen different languages: ‘WE WILL NOT FORGET.’ What, in fact, they will not forget is something the townsfolk are strangely reluctant to disclose, but I have been assured that suggesting that they forgot what they would not forget is a good way to receive a traditional Pferdenburg thrashing. - from Lady Von Fekenhaur’s ‘A Charming Guide to Europa’s Cities’