//------------------------------// // Ch.24: Shadows and Snow // Story: Tapestry: A World Apart // by Star Scraper //------------------------------// The buttercups are blossoming. The Kestrals are just singing as ever. The buttercups are blossoming. The Kestrals are just singing as ever. He echoed in his mind. Crimson Fire made his way to the Horus theater through the cobblestone streets of the city. The theater wasn't the grandest one in the dome, but it wasn't some small backwater one, either. Its prominent display was easy to spot. It made it easy to navigate a block to the north of it, and to the first cafe on his left. The mission was simple but precise. A far cry from directing a mechanized supply chain through The Abyss, but ever since Gold Will returned, it looks like spy work has become my new assignment. He set to work, absent-mindedly getting himself a small lunch. He silently cursed to himself, if only she weren't so stupid about how she came back, and not gotten spotted by Icewind's agents, then the Brigadier General wouldn't know she's back! It still pricked uncomfortably in the back of his mind, though. I'm glad she's back. I intend to get her mind back, somehow. I absolutely won't see her die again. But that's because she's my sister. But Icewind is willing to protect her, too, to make me work for her? Isn't this making an alliance with the unicorns, then? She's protecting somepony the unicorns have messed with. Okay – so am I, but she's my sister, that's different! I intend to reverse her brainwashing, but Icewind has no idea! She doesn't care! For all she knows I could be plotting something with the unicorns. Who's side is she even on? She doesn't seem to mind sheltering somepony who's been brainwashed by the unicorns, and she's definitely up to something messing with the governor, the way she talked about her. He wasn't ready to swallow the significance of what he'd done, when he followed her orders to re-assigned the air patrols. And I'm just playing along. Right into her hooves. But what am I going to do, rat her out, and have them raid my house and find Gold Will to have her executed again? Icewind's doing a lot of sketchy things here, but for all I know this is a police affair I'm delivering this message on, and she hasn't done anything illegal, yet. Nothing, except knowing Gold Will is back and not reporting this unicorn mischief. He shook his head. The buttercups are blossoming, the kestrals are just singing as ever. How am I going to get myself out of this one? She's got me cornered, and I know too much. If I don't wiggle out of this somehow, I'm going to die. And probably Gold Will, too, maybe even Scarlet... Just as soon as I'm not useful to her anymore, Icewind will have me killed. And maybe even if I'm still useful to her but I've just been around for too long... He finally had his meal on a plate in his hoof, and paused to look over the cafe to find a place to sit. This was the important part. Then he saw her. He thought he even recognized her from some play he'd seen before, too, but couldn't place it. She was sitting by herself in the corner, taking her time with a small meal. She played some side-roles in some bigger shows, but obviously was far from being anything of a star. She's the one I'm supposed to deliver the message to. That pink curly mane stands out! He made his way to her, setting his plate down on the same small table across from hers. “Mind if I sit here?” he asked. “Only if you don't know what's going on with the Kestrals. They're my favorite singing group, you know? So patriotic. Do you know what they're up to?” “The Kestrals are just singing as ever,” he replied. She shot a small smile at him. “Always glad to see a new face,” she commented, a subtle hint of ire in her voice. Well, she's an agent, so having a new contact on my end means another pony knows about her, and she's probably not too pleased about that... “So you're a fan of them too, then? They're such an obscure group. Absolute pity they aren't heard from more often, you know?” she asked another question. Alright, don't panic. Just... Improvise. I know what I have to say, whether or not I know everything else I need to say. Though in the back of his mind, the concern flashed across his mind; is Icewind killing me already by throwing me at this agent unprepared? With enough code to interact but not enough to get through? “I just... uhm, I really like their garden, talk about obscure...” he started. Despite the many years of practice he'd had, it wasn't practice in this field. The anxiety was audible at the fringes of his voice. He knew forces far more powerful than him were lurking, waiting to kill, and there was nothing he could do to protect himself, nevermind his younger sisters. “Oh, relax,” she giggled, “it's like you've never talked to a mare before. Can you guess my name, or do you already know it?” “Astilbe,” he answered. She nodded, “so tell me about that garden, then. I've heard all the Kestral's songs, but never about this garden of theirs.” She'd been sitting, picking at a small salad very slowly when he arrived, but suddenly she was wolfing it down, breaking eye contact as she worked on her food. His nerves loosened a little. Maybe it's not more code, maybe she's just... talking. There's just the coded parts, but the rest is just normal conversation, isn't it? Well duh. How else are we supposed to communicate? And by surrounding the code in normal talk it just makes it even more secure, difficult to pick out of the noise... “The buttercups are blossoming, last I heard,” he told her. She froze in the middle of a bite, her ears perking. She looked back up at him and answered with a mouth full of food, “really!?” “Uh-yes.” He nodded. “The Kestrals are just singing as ever, and the buttercups are blossoming,” he repeated the message to make sure. She swallowed the last of her food. “That's wonderful! I love buttercups. Mmm, I'd love to go see them, sometime,” she continued as she stood up, stepping away from the table, “but for now, I've got a busy day. And you are?” “Crimson Fire. Major Crimson Fire.” Is this really ending already? I guess it went well? Well, she got the message, so that's a success. “Well, Major, glad to meet another Kestrals fan, it'd be nice if we bumped into each other again sometime, but until then, remember to treat the buttercups like queens if you meet them.” Remember to treat the buttercups like queens if you meet them. He couldn't help but think this must be an important code, so he tried to memorize it. I wasn't trained for this. Are you trying to get me killed, Icewind, or just throwing me over my head to sink or swim? Could you have at least told me more about how these meetings are supposed to work? He nodded at her, “Farewell.” She bit onto her plate to carry it to a station, “g'bye” she said around it, and headed off with a skip in her step. The buttercups were blossoming. The train was on-schedule. Sergeant Fate's team kept walking through the dark, barren waste. Since they had evaded the roaring lights, it had been unusually quiet, and under threat of being heard by more pegasus patrols, it stayed silent. Although she was eager to ask about the lights, Rarity also didn't entirely mind the silence. With a sore throat, upset stomach and shivers, she had little to say as she was hurried along with the rest of the group. Whatever it was they were out here to do, the sergeant was sure it was important. There was no snowfall, but in the foggy darkness they couldn't see more than a few dozen yards, regardless. With hard ice sheets for ground, there was no need to cover any tracks. The bumpy mess of ice didn't yield under their padded boots. The sergeant wasn't carrying her forever, but he let her rest her forelimbs on his back, while still walking with her own, perfectly healthy hindlegs. Keeping balance was difficult and made none easier by the slick ice. It was hard to keep from kicking his legs, but easier than trying to walk with her injured hoof. She was continually exhausted, her hoof still sore, and throat and lungs pained with every biting cold breath. It felt like countless hours passed in this painful state. Many times Rarity had thought she'd hit her limit, only to find herself still somehow supporting half her own weight. Finally, the sergeant lifted a hoof, and they all stopped. “Okay, Snowglade, you're with me, the rest of you stay here. Clockwork, you're in charge.” “Copy that,” he confirmed. Rarity let off an enormous, relieved sigh as she flopped down onto the ice. The thick winter gear they'd given her to wear was enough to pad the fall. Clockwork turned around to face her. “Need a hoof?” “I'm quite comfortable, thank you...” she groggily replied from an unnatural resting position. He simply perked a cynical eyebrow at her, though the motion was barely visible under the arctic gear. “Here...” he sat next to her, “sit up and lean on my back,” he requested. She simply moaned, too sore and tired to move. “You'll really want to. Here, take my hoof,” the medic appeared next to her out of the foggy darkness and offered a forelimb. She took the hoof, and reluctantly sat up, then the nurse sat with them, all three of their backs together. “Laying on the ice is a very bad idea. Your gear isn't really warm enough to keep that kind of cold out from so much direct contact with it.” “Okay.” Her tired voice simply replied. They both felt Rarity's posture slacking. “Are you alright, Rarity?” the medic asked. “Y-yes, it's just...” her weak and tired voice tapered off. “Well, no, I guess. I'm just so tired, and I just want to go home...” she complained. “We'll get you there,” Clockwork assured her. “Just don't fall asleep,” Gratitude warned. “That's dangerous out here. Snowglade and the Sergeant are just stopping to do some radio checkups. Maybe they'll find out something good and we can pitch tent early.” Rarity moaned again. “I... Imagine these have been some very rough days for you,” the Cerulean medic sympathized. Well... she struggled to think over all of it. The days of over-working, missing the recital, Sweetie Belle dying, the fury and despair in the days that followed, how she almost killed herself, and then coming out here. Normally it's polite to answer with a 'it's going well', but... she simply couldn't bring herself to answer that way. “To say 'dreadful' would be a dreadful understatement...” Thinking over recent events, what had just happened came by her mind again. “So, since we can talk now... what was that thing we ran by? Some kind of great flying machine? A monster?” she asked. “Eh, that was an aircraft,” Clockwork answered. “An 'aircraft'?” She perked up slightly. He sounded very confident – he knew exactly what it was. Simply getting a solid answer to a question was a sweet relief from the terrible assault of events she'd been experiencing. She moved her hoof as to idly bounce her mane as she spoke, only to realize its curls were now hidden away under a thick, warm hood. “You don't know what an airplane is?” he asked. “I – well, I know about airships, but that was nothing like a sky yacht...” “Totally different thing. Those use buoyancy to fly. Very slow. What we saw was a T.B.-five. It's a big flying machine. It uses propellers to fly fast and it moves quickly to generate lift over its wings. It carries lots of very, very powerful explosives under them, that it can drop on groups of ponies and vehicles or bases... But that's not the worst part. The worst part is the machineguns on top. It's like a flying machinegun nest, it'll just circle its target, put spotlights on it, then rain fire from above.” He shivered. “All you can do is hide, and pray you don't end up in its spotlights.” She simply blinked. Propellers and wings I get, but... “Machineguns?” she asked. He paused. “Like guns. But automatic, huge, and mounted.” Her blank look continued. Although with their backs together he couldn't see it, the confusion was palpable. He made dramatized sound effects with his lips. She raised an eyebrow, and turned to face him over her shoulder. He put out his forehooves like he was holding a pogo stick, “it's this big... contraption”, then feigned recoil and shooting “dun-dun-dun-dun-dun.” “What in Equestria are you doing?” she held back laughs. “Just... Illustrating a machinegun. Big, mounted, rapid-firing gun...” She was grinning, barely containing her laughter at his ridiculous demonstration. “Oh, stop that. Anyways, I know how to fly those things.” The medic cleared her throat. “What? I don't think the sergeant would mind me telling her that. Our fates are all tied, anyways.” Rarity's grin was quickly replaced by another confused look. “Why would he? And why would a pegasus need a flying machine?” she relaxed her neck, looking forward again. He did the same. “If we get captured, we don't want The Hatten Vanguard to know what we were doing. But I'm an explosives expert, not a pilot. The heck would we need a pilot here for? Don't know if you noticed, but we don't have an airplane in any of our backpacks.” “Clockwork...” Gratitude sighed. “Right, right,” he answered. “Anyways, pegasi would be on planes because they go faster, and can fly for more than a few minutes in the cold without freezing. They can also carry machineguns. And most importantly, mail, cargo, ordinance... like, bombs and rockets.” Rarity couldn't place the feeling, but a sharp interpersonal intuition gave her the sense they were hiding something more, but it hardly mattered to her. They were keeping her safe, and that much she believed. Whether he wasn't a pilot or airplanes had some other purpose hardly mattered to her, as long as they could deliver their promise of getting her somewhere safe. She turned to the direction the sergeant and Snowglade had set off to. Just barely out of earshot, he and the young unicorn set to work with a set of radio equipment he'd barely finished unpacking. He put an earphone inside his hood and listened as her magic powered the equipment. After scanning for a minute, setting up the frequency exactly, and listening to a newscast for a painfully long time, the words finally appeared in passing mention. After several minutes of decoding with Snowglade, they had their message, with just one step of encoding left on it. The buttercups are blossoming. He lifted his hoof and adjusted a watch, setting a time on it to just eight hours away. Sunfeather laid in her bunk as the train clacked along its tracks and the wind howled outside. She yawned as she woke up, sitting up under the thin, issued blanket. The citizen-slaves mingled in the sleeper car as they woke, meeting each other and talking. There was little for most of them to do while they rode, so it was something like a short, rare vacation. Some huddled together with blankets, and some even had surprisingly decent clothing. At the end of the car, a small group laughed. Two guards sat on the other end, idly minding their own business. She decided to step out of her bunk and stretch her legs by walking around the train car. Her nightgown didn't do much to keep her warm, but it was something. “Sunnyfeather, is it?” a particularly young slave asked as she approached her from behind. “I thought I heard that name when they were boarding us last night.” “Uhm, yes,” she replied, turning around to face her. She had only a single notch and aluminum ring in each ear, indicating simple domestic servitude status. “I'm Snowfeather. I just... Thought it was funny. We both have 'feather' in our name.” The snowy-white pegasus chuckled. Sunfeather couldn't help but let a little giggle slip. It was such an inane reason for the encounter. “So... Where are you from? Do you know where you're going?” the new pegasus pressed. “I'm from the Delphi Dome, I work at the Governor's palace-” Snowfeather's eyes glistened in awe. “-and I'm not sure where I'm going. The Governor just brought me along.” She took a few steps back to her bunk to sit down to talk. “The Governor's palace? Is it really as grand as they say? That's so amazing! Wait... But isn't it dangerous to work there?” The white pegasus asked in a suddenly hushed tone. “It is quite lovely. I love tending the gardens, there. And, well, just be a good pony and there's really not much to worry about...” Then again, I just... she barred herself from remembering too much. The penalties for not keeping up with the demanded work could be severe. “But it must be scary being around the Governor.” She set down in the isle as Sunfeather sat down on her bunk. “Oh, she's not all that bad...” Sunfeather glanced away. “How'd you end up there? Any secrets, tricks?” Snowfeather continued her hushed tone. “Uhm... I don't know...” She hid her face behind her pink mane. “Oh, well... Thanks anyways. I'm just getting sent to the Rambling Rock Mines,” her voice lifted again to its usual cheer. Sunfeather perked up with excitement, nearly hitting her head on the bunk above; “Oh, I've heard the officers tend lovely gardens, there! I heard there's even sunflowers!” Snowfeather smiled nervously. “Well, maybe. I'm not so excited, though.” She sighed. The pink-maned pegasus gave the other a confused look as she continued: “I'm just going to be a butler for the officers... Still, I'm glad I'm not going to have my wings clipped, or anything like that. One day I'll buy myself free again. One day.” Sunfeather's curiosity was piqued. “What do you plan to do, then?” “I don't know. But my brother was starving, and I had to sell myself so we could have enough to eat. Now I'll be fed as long as I'm doing this, but I didn't want him to have to go into slavery, or join the military. Neither of us wanted to become a killer. Well, I didn't want either of us to. But he thought he could make the world better by climbing through the ranks... You haven't heard anything about a pony named 'Feldspar' by any chance, have you? I sure hope he didn't have to join the military.” “No.” The shy pegasus replied. Snowfeather chuckled again. “You're a bit of a quiet pony, aren't you? You don't talk very much, do you? I guess I can be a bit redundant when I talk, but you hardly say anything at all, do you?” She smiled, thought for a moment, then replied with a simple: “No.” They both giggled together. “You seem really sweet, though. I hope I get to have a friend like you when I get to the mines.” “But... You just met me.” She sounded confused. “Well, I figure if I travel all the time I've got to get used to making friends with everypony, and you seem grade-A friend material.” Snowfeather smiled. “Thank you.” The more timid pegasus returned the smile. “You bet... So, Sunnyfeather, do you ever think of the future? Like where you want to end up some day?” “Oh. Uhh... I don't know. Somewhere nice, maybe. I don't have much control of my life, really.” “I know that, silly filly! I didn't sell myself just yesterday. But just because you don't have much control doesn't mean you can't decide where you want to go. You may not be able to get what you want right away, but that doesn't mean you can't start taking small steps towards it. For example, I want to fly airplanes! That's mainly why I'm glad my wings aren't being clipped.” Snowfeather nervously glanced at her wings. “But let's say I get a choice to work at an airfield or work in a dome. I could pick airfield to work towards that. And it never hurts to keep an eye out for ponies who might know a thing or two! If you keep hunting for good things, you'll find them eventually!” she grinned. “That sounds very nice. I'm just...” Sunfeather glanced away again, looking at the floor as her ears flopped down. “You're?...” “I'm happy where I am.” Snowfeather's posture shot up. “But what about dreams? Don't you want to to see more? To do more?” “Well... I'm just happy being with the governor. She's not a bad pony like other slaves think.” “Sunnyfeather, I know you're happy, but that's no excuse to not have dreams. Ambition is all about-” The door at the end of the car burst open. Sunfeather instinctively ducked behind Snowfeather as the room went quiet. Four guards stepped inside and the leader proclaimed; “I require the citizen-slave 'Sunfeather,' currently serving Governor Full Spectrum. Sunfeather is suspected of high treason and sedition.”