//------------------------------// // Road to Friendship // Story: A Dream // by totallynotabrony //------------------------------// There wasn’t any open pier in Saddle Arabia big enough for the good school/submarine In Need of Beaning to pull in.  I sent Applejack ashore to negotiate clearing a few piers to make room for us.  Despite the damage caused by the seventh of the Seven School Superintendents, we had to anchor out in the bay for now. Naturally, the largest submarine in the world attracted some attention as it loomed ominously on the horizon. I’m guessing it loomed ominously.  I’m not Saddle Arabian. It must have, though, because a bunch of ponies came to check us out. My first indication of that was when I felt the hull began to vibrate under my hooves.  Deafened though I was from fighting said school superintendent, I couldn’t actually hear the guns firing, but they were big enough that I could feel them. I poked my head up through the hole in the hull to see Libby had landed on the submarine’s deck, using the curve of the hull to angle her nose skywards.  The podded .50 cal installed in one of her weapons bays was deployed and firing at half a dozen pegasi who had come to see what the ship was going on. Okay, it was a submarine, but that’s a harder pun. Unsure if we were under attack or if Libby was just being an idiot, I shouted, or thought I did because I couldn’t hear, “Who are they?” Libby didn’t hear me because machine gun. I crawled out of the hole, stomped across the deck, and grabbed her wingtip.  “Hey, what the heck?” Mindful that I was currently deaf, she flashed her lights in Morse.  They’re Saddle Arabians and they’re approaching, so I’m defending the school. Because it was Libby, I had to ask, “Have they shown any hostile intent or were they just curious that the world’s largest submarine just surfaced near their coast?” They’re Saddle Arabians. I sighed.  “You can’t be racist, Libby!  This isn’t the ‘70s anymore. I don’t care if they remind you of Iranians or whoever from Earth.” Well, I haven’t killed a lot of them. “On your scale, by your usual standards, that doesn’t mean what most people would consider a small number.” I turned to walk away, but stopped and turned around.  “And stop shooting!” She’d been firing during the whole conversation.  That really hadn’t helped my hearing loss. I shook my head and headed back inside.   “What was that about?” Cordoba asked.  At least I thought she did. I gestured to my ears and she pulled out a pencil and a sheet of plywood, writing her message down. “Good ol’ vacuum-tubes-for-brains decided to preemptively attack this world’s version of Middle Easterners. Yes, I’m well aware of the irony, but it’s inconvenient. Moreover, Libby needs a runway, and probably won’t be able to take off again, so Tin Mare will have to lift her.  Not only that, but I’m going to have to smooth over with Saddle Arabia whatever damage she did if they’re going to let us pull into port. Why do we need permission to pull into port? Cordoba wrote. “I mean, yeah, we’ve got a vessel with tons of weapons and a shitload of annoying kids.  I’m sure we could get them to leave us alone if we just pulled in. I’m trying to actually get a field trip out of this or something, and that would be a lot easier with a compliant public.” I cocked my head.  “Different subject, why do you have a pencil and a sheet of plywood?  And a tool belt, and...flannel…” I stared at her.  “Have you been...home improving?” She threw up her Tim Allen hands, which made it really hard to write her response.  Look, do you want a deck or not? “Okay,” I said. Tin Mare arrived overhead and took Libby away in a sling load.  I would have to help Libby either back into Tin Mare’s cargo compartment or find/build her a suitable runway to operate from. With her gone, when we navigate our way into the Saddle Arabian harbor the thing that had been doing the shooting was no longer visible, and the public hubbub was overwhelmed by the holy shit, is that a nuclear submarine/school? sentiment.  That was pretty good feat for our PR department to pull off, considering nobody in Saddle Arabia had ever seen a submarine, a nuclear submarine, or a submarine school before. Our PR department, by the way, was the repurposed school newspaper with persuasive editing by Rarity. Speaking of her, she was getting hard to find lately.  I kept discovering weird notes with random numbers in her quarters.  She kept getting more creative with the locks on the door, not that anything like that ever stopped me. After the sub was tied to the pier, I went to take a look around the city.  Other than dusty streets and open markets, there wasn’t much. We probably wouldn’t be able to get the materials necessary to fix the sub here. I mean, really, it would just take steel plates, some pipes, and wires.  That looked a little bit beyond the capabilities of the local markets, though. Whatever.  I would just have them sent from my stocks in Ponyville.  Though, if Tin Mare was currently occupied, I would have to find another way. There weren’t any nearby train lines that I could see.  The portal in Guinness’s onboard bar wasn’t really big enough to transport everything I would need through.  Steel would be too heavy for even a team of pegasi to carry. The supplies would have to come overland, then.  I would have to figure out who would be willing to bring them. After a couple of hours, my hearing had begun to return.  I learned that the town was crowded with tourists coming to see the glowpaz festival. I spotted Trixie talking to some tall unicorn.  I’d noticed that most Saddle Arabians were pretty similar to Equestrian ponies.  However, a portion of them - mostly royalty - were quite a bit taller, slimmer, and generally more horselike. I was on my way over to see what Trixie was talking about when Sunburst appeared.  He opened his mouth, and I preemptively stuck my hoof in it. “Mhewrog?” he said. “I don’t really care, but I’d deafen myself again to not hear you speak.” He took a step backwards and his lips came off my hoof with a pop.  “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I was set up with my telescope on the shore making calibrations for studying the heavens through the clear desert air when it gets dark tonight when I heard shooting and saw Libby attacking those tourists.” “I don’t really care, but I’d deafen myself again to not hear you speak.” “You said that already.” “Habit.  You never seem to hear me.  Don’t sex the airplane.” “I told you, I’m only interested in studying her!” “I thought you were only interested because you thought she was actually Starlight Glimmer.” “She isn’t, is she?” “No.” His face fell, but he continued.  “But then, who is she?” “The Lightweight Interceptor for Badass Bombing.” “I meant, what was she called before you named her that and made her an aircraft?” “If you keep asking questions but keep adding complexities in an attempt to get me to slip up, it’s not going to work.” The flicker of a conniving plan went across his face, and he challenged, “Do you think you’re smart enough to stay ahead of my questions?” “No, I think I’m just going to start punching you instead of replying.” Starburst hesitated, but then said, “Look, I’ll do anything for you.” I paused.   “Anything?” “I will do any favor for you, in return for you giving a direct answer to a question of mine.” I pondered it.  “Okay. Suck my dick.” “Mhewrog?” he said.  There wasn’t even anything in his mouth this time.  But he was clearly concerned that there was about to be. “Yeah.”  I crossed my hooves.  “Come on, you said anything.” He looked like he had a stroke.  His eye twitched. But he shut his eyes tight for a few seconds, opened them again, and took a deep breath.  “Okay.” I laughed.  “I’m just messing with you.  Go disarm Foxy.” I turned to leave.  “Wait, what?” he said.  “Who’s Foxy? What do you mean disarm?” I waved as I walked away.  “Thanks!” I wandered the streets for awhile.  Nobody recognized me. Not that I was a celebrity or anything, but I had a little bit of a reputation.  I guess maybe it was because we weren’t in Equestria, but still, something seemed off. Had I been away at sea so long that I had been forgotten?  Lord knows ponies had short memories. But just then an angry mob turned the corner and shouted, “There he is!” Ah, it’s better to be talked about than not talked about. I stood my ground and offered, “Bring forth your champion so that we may do battle in honorable combat to settle this score.  Whatever this score actually is.” They actually did stop to confer among themselves for a moment before pushing forward a guy in a robe and turban. “This is the guy?” I said. Amongst the crowd, he hadn’t looked too out of the ordinary, but now that he was in front of me, the scimitar under his robe was obvious.  He also seemed much more confident than the rest. “So are we going to do this here in the street, or you want to go someplace?” I said. He pulled his sword. “Okay, works for me.”  I hopped in place for a second, loosening up.  “Just let me know when-” I heard a sudden sound behind me and spun in place, ducking as the corner of my eye caught a flash of sun on steel.  I just barely limbo’d under the blade of a pegasus stallion who had just landed, though the edge hacked off a piece of my forelock and my autodarkening sunglasses went flying. I pulled my Desert Eagle and put two slugs in his gut from point-blank range.  “You take a swing at me, boy, you’d best not miss.” Without stopping to contemplate the irony of using a Desert Eagle in the actual desert, I turned to face the other guy, who’d used my distraction to charge forward. I caught the blade of his sword across my trigger guard, blocking his attack, and then hit him with my laser eyes. I’d been working on that ability for a while, but was still struggling with the focus and instead of burning a hole in him, it just set his entire body on fire. That done, and angry mob scattered, I put my sunglasses back on and ambled away. I came upon Trixie, still talking to that guy from earlier.  As I walked up, she introduced us. “This is Hoo’far. He’s...well, I guess kind of a groupie.” Hoo’far smiled. “I have followed Trixie’s show all over the world.” “I was thinking about a performance while we’re in Saddle Arabia,” Trixie said. “Cool.  Let me know when and save me a ticket.” I turned to walk back to the submarine.  Nothing against Trixie and her magic shows, but I still had no idea why magic was so amazing to a species that could do it.  But - it was magic. Nobody had to explain shit. Back on the sub, I headed down to the kitchen to get a donut.  Charlie was there, and to my surprise, so was Foxy, completely bomb-free. Oh shit, Sunburst had done it.  Fortunately, I didn’t see him anywhere around, so I sat down to eat. Foxy slid over.  “Do you want to have sex?” “Aren’t you kind of stretched out right now?  Frankly, I’m surprised you can even walk.” “But do you want to have sex?” Guinness walked in just then.  Apparently he, too, had heard of Charlie’s donuts.  Speaking of, the dog himself came over with a fresh batch. “Ooh, he’s cute,” said Foxy.  She touched my shoulder. “Introduce me, why don’t you?” Charlie frowned, apparently realizing she was talking about him. I sighed.  “This is able baker Charlie dog, easy Fox.” “Do you want to have sex?” she asked him. “No.” Foxy shrugged and turned to Guinness.  “Do you want to have sex?” “I’m married.” “But do you want to have sex?” “Does anyone ever actually take you up on it?” “Sometimes.  Mostly I just make it easy.” I decided to take my donut to go. Going topside, I was surprised by Cordoba’s work.  “Holy shit, this thing is huge.” She looked up from building the deck and wiped some sweat.  “Did you want a smaller one?” “No, this is fine.  Shit, we should have a cookout.” I paged Guinness, knowing he would want in on this.  When he arrived, he said, “Wow, this is a really large deck.  Not even for a submarine, just a large deck in general.” He got the grill going and began pouring beers.  I noticed evening twilight was beginning to paint the sky.  Speaking of, Twilight showed up, lugging a telescope as the sky got darker. She paused at the cookout, but didn’t let it distract her from setting up her telescope.  It was a pretty large one, and I commented on it. “Yeah, I’m looking for outer planets,” she said.  “I’m not sure if it will let me see all the way to Neptune, but maybe Uranus or Saturn.” I took a sip of beer.  “Okay. You just sit here on my big deck and look at Uranus.”