fyre-flye

by uhrora

Whitefoal

"Captain, we're being hailed." Rainbow Dash was back behind the helm, and Applejack had gone with her to oversee their landing on Whitefoal. The moon was coming closer now, looming before them with an eerie golden glow in the sunlight. This was a desert moon, with just enough terraforming to keep ponies alive.

"Put her on," AJ replied.

Rainbow Dash pressed a few buttons and the video screen lit up with the face of a griffin. Purple-tinged white feathers fell over her cruel yellow beak and her golden eyes stared back at the ponies unnervingly. "Hey, Dash. Applejack."

"Gilda." Applejack nodded in greeting.

"Hey, G," Rainbow replied. She was the one who'd first linked Applejack with Gilda, her fillyhood best friend. After the war, they’d each entered the not-so-legal salvaging business. The friends remained fairly close, yet competitive, until… well, until Gilda shot Applejack. That was the last time they'd traveled out here. Since then, apparently, the griffin had become the de facto leader of Whitefoal.

Applejack steeled herself, remembering all too well their most recent parting.

It was, apparently, on Gilda's mind as well. "Surprised to see you two out here after what went down last time. Especially since I took over this rock. Sharpened my claws a bit. I’m sure you’ve heard."

“Word does travel,” Rainbow Dash muttered.

Applejack ignored her. "Well, aren’t you just all socially mobile! Congrats, Gilda. I’m awful proud. But... refresh my memory. ‘Last time?’ I just don’t recall. See a lot of sky these days.”

Gilda rolled her eyes. “Don’t play stupid. You’re much too good at it.”

“Well, thank you kindly, ma’am.”

“I shot you,” Gilda huffed, impatient.

“Oh, that?" AJ replied, eyes wide in mock surprise. "Naw, that was nothing. It's all in the past now. If I avoided everypony who’d ever shot me, the ‘verse would get mighty lonesome. Just here to do business."

"Good. Thought you might be looking to get some kind of revenge. That would be very stupid, considering all of Whitefoal is just about mine."

"So you said. Rest assured we’re just here to sell," Applejack told her. No need to get in a fight over the video screen.

"Yeah. About that. Why so cheap?"

AJ gave a light shrug. "Well, now, it's government goods. Imprinted." The Harmony Alliance logo—the sun that served as Princess Celestia’s cutie mark—was stamped on the goods, clear as, well... day.

"An Alliance discount, hmm?"

"If that don't suit you, we'll find somepony—"

"Please. I'm not afraid of the government. Do you actually think they even come out here?"

"Well, not in droves, but I reckon they do every so often. Keepin' an eye over the whole ‘verse and all that. Wasn’t that the reason for the war?"

"The war’s over. Whitefoal’s my moon. I don't need Alliance poking their beaks into my moon and my business." Gilda scowled. She was no friend of Harmony Alliance, and after the great griffin massacres that had occurred in the war, it was easy to see why. Every creature that allied with the rebel ponies during the war found its population devastated. After the war, attempts had been made to repopulate planets or moons with griffins, dragons, buffaloes and other creatures massively wiped out in battle, but so far none of them had been entirely successful. And the griffins had been greatly vilified by Celestia, resulting in Core planet discrimination against the creatures. Hardly any griffins actually worked for the government, and Gilda knew this. “Their muzzles,” she corrected with a growl.

"I sure do share that sentiment. Minus, well, the moon part," Applejack chuckled.

Gilda looked bored. "Yeah, whatever. I'll send you the coordinates and we can meet up once you land. See you." She vanished from the screen, and it went black.

Dash turned it off, then turned around in her seat to face Applejack. "I don't want to be a downer, but I think she might be planning something."

"What? Why?" Applejack asked, frowning.

Rainbow Dash shrugged. "I dunno. I can just tell. Like, she would have haggled with you. That was too short of a conversation."

"Well, I reckon she didn't haggle 'cause I said we'd find somepony else. And it's cheap enough with the government stamp."

"Okay," Rainbow said after a beat. "But… be careful, will you?"

Applejack nodded. "I always am."

Rainbow Dash turned to face her, raising a brow.

"Well, usually."

"Just don't get my husband killed, will you?"

"Never."

"Well, if this don't look like a place for an ambush, I'll eat my hat," Applejack retorted to Soarin, looking around at the valley Gilda had told them to meet. The low hills rising above them had tall sagegrass—the perfect cover for somepony hiding up there on his or her belly.

In fact, the grass was even tall enough to be the perfect cover for a stallion like Big Mac. "I'm here, AJ." His voice came through the communicator strapped to Applejack's saddle.

She turned her head to speak into it. "You buried it all?"

"Eeyup. And right now I'm huntin' snipers."

"Now, watch yourself, you hear? Gilda needs to think they're still up there. When you get rid of 'em, take a gun and stay in place. Now, I'm not sayin' anymore. You need the element of surprise to get them snipers, and my voice coming over loud and clear don't exactly scream element of surprise."

"Got it." The communicator went silent.

Applejack and Soarin continued to walk away from the ship, deeper into the valley. Suddenly, the sound of hooves and wings sounded. Gilda appeared, flying out around a hill into the open. She was flanked by a band of ponies on hoof. Most were unicorns, weapons floating around them in a haze of magical auras.

"Maybe my wife has got me paranoid… but I have a feeling this is a bad idea," Soarin muttered. He reached down, tightening his saddle with his mouth. The clear armor that he and Applejack wore was tight, constricting. It was meant to be bulletproof, but it was so expensive that Soarin was almost more willing to get shot without the armor on.

"No, I reckon Dash is right about Gilda here. But we'll be fine. Mac's up there watchin' over us."

"Our angel in the sky," Soarin replied with a smirk. "Our giant, snipery angel."

Gilda was approaching, so they shut their mouths before she was in earshot. "Hey, Applejack! How are you doing, old girl?" she called amiably as she swooped towards them.

The Doctor walked away from the infirmary. He needed to stretch his legs, and Pinkie and Fluttershy could both use some more rest. He didn't want to return to the passenger area, where Octavia was being held captive, nor did he feel like stepping outside to take a look at Whitefoal. He was too vulnerable that way, and could lose Pinkie easily if the captain decided she wanted to cash in on the Alliance prize after all.

Not to mention he was hungry. The Doctor headed towards the dining area, stomach rumbling.

Inside, he saw the gray pegasus who, if his memory served him correctly, was the mechanic. Her back was turned towards him as she prepared food on the stove, humming a song to herself even as her mouth was clamped onto the handle of a pan. "Oh, hello," he greeted her.

Derpy jumped, sending the contents of the pan flying across the kitchen area. The flat, bread-like thing landed on the ground. The pegasus set down the pan on the stove. "Oh no!" Derpy gasped. She turned around to see who it was, a sheepish smile appearing on her face. "Oh, hi, Doctor."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he replied, frowning at the piece of food on the ground. "Or to ruin your meal. What were you making?"

"A griddlecake," Derpy replied, picking up the cake from the ground and setting it onto a plate. "You think it's still good?"

The Doctor looked at the bread. "As a medical professional, I'm going to have to suggest that you not eat that… griddlecake. Whatever that is."

Derpy giggled. "Well, okay. I'm not a germophobe but I don't think it was really cooked all the way yet anyway."

"Can I help you make something? I'm hungry as well," the Doctor offered, stepping further into the room.

"Sure!" Derpy affirmed, eyes lighting up. "What do you want? Griddlecakes?"

"Uh… why not?" the Doctor asked with a slight smile. Always good to try new things. Even if they looked like big flat rocks of bread. "Are they good?" He watched as Derpy flew around, grabbing ingredients to cook with and setting up the stove again.

"You willy don't know what dey are!" Derpy exclaimed, repositioning the pan on the flat blue burner again. "It's okay. Not everypony does. And sure they’re good! I make them with molasses a lot for...” She trailed off. “Well, you know, anypony who has a sweet tooth,” Derpy said quickly. “Foals, and such.”

The Doctor nodded. “You’ll have to make that for Pinkie. If anypony in the ‘verse likes sweet things, it’s her. So, what are griddlecakes... exactly...?”

“It’s a recipe from Equestria-that-was. One of the things that was passed down from my ancestors, I guess. Back in the war, I made them all the time." She clapped a hoof over her mouth. "I shouldn't talk about the war."

"That's fine. It was many years ago now."

"Okay. But don't talk about it in front of the captain." Derpy looked up at him guiltily. "And don't tell anypony I told you that, either."

"Let me guess… she was a rebel." The Doctor came to stand beside Derpy, looking over her shoulder as she combined the ingredients into a mush in a big bowl, then poured it into the bowl she'd already made for her own mix. "I don't know why they thought they could change anything, anyway. Celestia is all-mighty. But for some reason those browncolts are still always bitter about the war."

Derpy frowned, turning her head. "Well, there are a lot of things to be bitter about!" she replied.

The Doctor blinked. "Right. I won't bring it up with you, either."

Derpy's concentration was on the griddlecake again. "No, it's fine. But I was a rebel, too." She grinned. "And you, Dr. Alliance, are about to have a taste of some front-line rebel cooking."

Applejack stiffened at Gilda's greeting. "Old girl? Do I look like my granny?" she hissed to Soarin.

"Don't get all mare-ish on us, now. We've got a job to do," Soarin reminded her.

"Oh, doin' just fine," Applejack called back to Gilda.

The griffin landed before them. "Hey there, Dash's husband," she said curtly, looking down her beak at Soarin.

"Griffin," Soarin replied in the same tone. Even back before the shooting incident, Soarin and Gilda had never liked each other. There was just something about Gilda that Soarin didn't like. Maybe it was the way she treated… well, everypony around her. She tended to tease Fluttershy more than anypony else, and Soarin had to admit, he had a soft spot for Fluttershy.

"So what's the occasion? With all them ponies, I coulda sworn you were throwin' us a welcome back party," Applejack drawled, looking around at Gilda's partners. Strangely enough, the unicorns did not look exactly battle-ready. Their eyes were wide, their builds small. If Applejack was going to venture a guess, she might speculate that these were the only unicorns on Whitefoal. But just because unicorns could levitate weapons and use spells didn't mean they were tougher than a couple of non-magical ponies.

...still, that whole spell thing did kind of spook Applejack.

"Like I said earlier, I thought you might be looking for revenge. A griffin can never be too careful," Gilda explained. "Now, I don't see any of the goods around that you're trying to sell me. That sends a bit of a red flag, doesn't it?"

"Buried the goods, like always," Applejack replied. "Soarin's got a free sample, though, don't you Soar?"

Soarin nodded. Reaching his mouth into the saddlebag strapped to one side of him—the side that didn't hold his gun—he grabbed one of the gold bars and tossed it over to Gilda. She caught it in her claw and unwrapped it, revealing an orange bar. Biting into it, she chewed thoughtfully.

"Pure vitamin bars. Carrot flavored," Soarin told her.

Gilda's nose wrinkled. "I don't much care for carrots myself, but it'll do for the ponies. So, where's the rest buried?"

"Bits first, if you don't mind," Applejack said.

Gilda gestured towards one of the ponies, who trotted up to her. Reaching inside his saddlebag, she retrieved a sack. Tossing it over to Applejack and Soarin, she gave a broad smile. "It's all there. Now are you going to tell me where to find the goods, or is this going to take a turn for the worse?"

Meanwhile, Twi was headed down into the passenger area. "Um, Octavia?" she called as she crept down the stairs. "I don't know what they're planning on doing with you, but I wanted to tell you that we're on a moon now, and I was going to get off the ship here, and I think you could make it too if you ran for it." She stepped towards the door to Octavia's room.

Just as the door slid open. Twi's eyes widened. There was Octavia—free. She stood in the room, rope strewn about her in long pieces.

"Thank you," Octavia said with a slight nod. "Let's get out of here."

Twi blinked. “O-okay.” Well, nothing wrong with trying to get free from captors. Especially when they're criminals. Twi ordered away her sudden sense of dread and turned to run back up the stairs. The unicorn poked her head into the hallway. "It's clear," she told the musician. "Come on."

The two ponies crept into the hallway. "Okay, you stay here for a second. I'll make sure the coast is clear in the cargo room, and then we can run out the door there. It's already open, anyway," Twi whispered to Octavia as the two huddled in the doorway to the cargo hold.

"All right," Octavia replied. "I'll be here."

Twi stepped into the room and made her way slowly down the stairs, inspecting the huge room as she walked. Checking the nooks and crannies, and giving another look outside the ship to make sure nopony was assembled outside, she smiled with relief. Nothing was stopping them. Twi ran back through the room and upstairs, then came to a halt at the doorway.

Octavia was gone.

Applejack and Gilda faced each other in a sort of showdown. AJ and Soarin had already given the griffin the directions, but nopony wanted to move first. To move was to be vulnerable, and neither party wanted to let the other have any sort of advantage. That could turn ugly fast.

But AJ could see that Gilda wasn't going to move. "Well, all right, we'll be going now," the captain conceded, beginning to take a few steps back. If it was going to be this way, she was going to do it all in reverse. “Y’all best be off too, before the goods grow up outta the ground.”

"Now, hang on. Don't go running off yet," Gilda ordered.

Applejack halted, eyes narrowing. "What now? We made the deal, did our business. Nothing keepin' me here on this rock.”

"Well, you do have my money," Gilda purred.

"Your money? Now, look. This is how business works, Gilda. We traded. You bought them vitamin bars off me fair and square. At a low price, too! These bits are mine now."

"Oh no they're not. I have a whole world to run here, Applejack. I can't just throw money away if I don't need to."

"It's a moon," Soarin corrected flatly.

"What do you mean, you don't need to? You just gonna steal from us?" AJ snapped.

“I don’t need to, because I can take you both down easy. You’ll give me the money back if you’re smart enough to tell your tail from your mane.” Gilda's chuckle turned into a cackle. "And, you know, just because I've moved up in rank doesn't mean I'm all that different. No, I'm proud to say I've kept the same morals I've always held. That means I’m not above prying the bits out of your cold, dead hooves."

Fluttershy opened her eyes. She was staring up at the infirmary ceiling, and she'd been woken by the sound of a song. Turning her head slightly, she saw the pink pony on the other bed, singing to herself. It was a melody Fluttershy had never heard.

"You're awake!" the pony said, interrupting her own song. She looked towards Fluttershy with a smile. Apparently she was having one of her better moments. "I'm glad. I knew you'd be okay, but everypony else was so worried."

"Wh-who are you again?" Fluttershy asked, pulling the blanket up closer around her.

"I'm Pinkie!"

"The... the Doctor's little sister, they said?"

"Yup! And you're Fluttershy. Nice to meet you!" Pinkie slid off the bed and walked over to Fluttershy, her step wobbly. "I heard that you got all bloody trying to protect my brother." She balanced herself on her hind hooves, peering down at the pegasus’ covered abdomen curiously, as if searching for the blood she knew must be there.

"W-well, not exactly," Fluttershy replied. The blanket was now completely covering her face. "I didn’t really know what was going on. I just got in the way, and… and that Octavia pony shot me."

"And I'm very sorry about that," came a voice from the door.

Fluttershy pushed the covers back down quickly, and Pinkie looked up, surprised.

Octavia stood in the doorway, pink saddle on her back. Stitched into the leather were three butterflies.

Fluttershy gasped. "Th-that's my saddle," she said. "And my gun…" Angel, her favorite firearm, was attached to the saddle. It was the gun she'd grabbed when they had heard trouble in the cargo hold.

"Yes, they left it outside for you. Is it just me, or is there something about this crew? None of you are really the brightest suns in the ‘verse," Octavia said with a smirk. Her eyes flicked over to Pinkie. "Now, you're different, aren’t you, Pinkamena Diane Pie? That means you don't belong here. And you're coming with me."

"No, thank you," Pinkie replied, returning to the ground. Fluttershy noticed she was shaking, even when standing on four hooves. Whether it was from fear or from the effects of the sedative she wasn't sure.

"This gun is certainly not a toy," Octavia warned her. "I'm sure Fluttershy can tell you all about its firepower." She glanced back at the pegasus. "Be honest. Do you want to get shot again, or not?”

Fluttershy shook her head slowly. “Please don’t,” she whispered.

Pinkie's face fell. "Shoot her again?” She spoke faster, more urgently: "But I can’t go—they'll take me, they'll hurt me—" Her hooves covered her eyes in fear.

"And I’ll hurt Fluttershy right now if you don't come with me," Octavia informed Pinkie. “I am sorry for shooting you once, Fluttershy.”

“Oh... it’s all right. You didn’t mean to,” Fluttershy squeaked.

“No, I didn’t. I’m glad you understand that. Big Mac certainly didn’t. But now... Now I may have to shoot you with the intention of doing harm.” Octavia sighed. Despite her talk, she looked as if she wasn’t happy about her situation, either. “Come with me now, Pinkamena.”

"No!" Pinkie screamed. She was shaking more now.

Octavia took a few steps closer. "I'm not kidding around. Are you coming with me, or shall I drag you out?"

Pinkie's eyes narrowed. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Didn't your parents ever teach you not to tell lies?” Octavia cocked the gun and Fluttershy whimpered. The gray pony continued, her voice cold: “And, look. Fluttershy is certainly scared of me. I thought she was your friend. She already got shot for you once, Pinkamena. Don't make her go through that again. That's not something a friend would do, is it?"

"Fine!" Pinkie snapped. She walked towards Octavia. "Bye bye," she said quietly, without turning around towards the pegasus again.

The door to the infirmary closed. As soon as the shapes of Pinkie and Octavia had passed by the windows, Fluttershy sat up. Her abdomen shrieked in sudden pain and she lurched over, beads of sweat appearing on her forehead. All of her strength was focused on not screaming. When she'd recovered herself a bit, she reached one hoof out towards the com button on the wall. But it wasn't enough—she couldn't reach. Panting, she used her wings to propel her further—just a bit further—and she reached it. Pressing it down, she sent an urgent cry to the cockpit, the one place she knew would be occupied: "Octavia is l-loose and… and she took Pink—" Fluttershy's arm was weakening and it trembled to hold down the com button. Then, just as she heard a reply, she began to feel like she was floating, and she lost her balance. She fell to the ground, body hitting the infirmary floor with a sickening thump. And then everything went dark.

"I'm waiting," Gilda sneered. "Give me back the money, unless you're looking to get a few new holes put in your head." The griffin guffawed. “You don’t want to look like that old queen of the Changelings, do you?”

“Ain’t a style I’d prefer,” Applejack growled through gritted teeth.

“Really? I know you love the beaten-by-Celestia look.” Gilda snickered to herself. “Now, all insults aside, give me back the money. I’m deadly serious.”

Applejack hesitated. "All right. Soar, throw over the bits to her."

"But—"

"Do it," Applejack ordered.

The pegasus sighed, then turned. He reached back into his saddlebag and tossing the sack of money at Gilda's paws.

"That's better," Gilda said sweetly. "Now, this is strange. I have to admit... well, I don't like your faces much. Even with the money on my side."

AJ's brow furrowed. "Now, hang on. We gave you back your money. You got the bits and the goods."

"I am impressive, aren't I?" Gilda inspected her claws with a smug expression. "I guess that's why I'm running Whitefoal and you're stuck on that flying trash heap you call a ship."

Soarin kicked one hoof against the ground. “I thought all insults were aside.”

"Now, Gilda, you best not say that too loud," Applejack snorted. "I know a mechanic who'd have your hide if she heard those words."

"What, that Derpy Hooves? Yeah, maybe. If she could even see straight enough for one second," Gilda chuckled. "And Fluttershy would never let her. She seems to think that on her ship, she's the only killer allowed. Hmm. Derpy, or Fluttershy?" she asked, tapping a claw against her face in thought. "It's a toss-up for incompetence on your crew. That is, if you don't count that Core whore of yours. Or your little bedmate Soarin there."

"First mate," the pegasus replied, voice dry.

"Right. Dash was always upset about that. Didn't like the thought somepony had beat her to her own husband. Oh, but your real first mate was Spitfire, wasn't it? Wow, Soarin, you really do get around."

"Now, we're here for business, not a schoolfoal tussle," Applejack retorted.

Gilda ignored her. "Or did get around, anyway. You must have stopped that after getting married, right? Wait, maybe not. I mean, it's Dash. Have you seen that face of hers? Not to mention that flank."

"That's it," Soarin growled, stepping forward. "You insult my ship, my crew and me—fine. I'll hold my gorram tongue like I'm supposed to. But you say a word about my wife—"

"And what? You cry?" Gilda laughed. "Give me a break. You're just as pathetic as her. I can't wait to see what your foals are like. Oh, wait. You can't have any. Dash is a failure like that."

Soarin leaned over, face close to Applejack's chest. "Nice hat," he spat into it.

Before Gilda could comprehend what was going on, or AJ could groan at Soarin's dead giveaway, a shot rang out, blowing one of Gilda's ponies off his feet. The others jumped, springing into life and firing: at Applejack, Soarin, the direction Big Mac's shot had come from.

Gilda scowled, aiming her gun and firing straight at Soarin.