//------------------------------// // Pledge // Story: Boast Busters - Extended Cut // by AdmiralSakai //------------------------------// Capt Marigold strode through the Castle Rock base camp on her weekly inspection. For once, the canvas tents were all clean and properly secured, and all of the supply crates were intact. In the outside world it was a little after three in the afternoon; damned if Marigold knew what that translated into here, but it seemed to be in the middle of a work shift. Even so, there were quite a few ponies idling around outside. Mostly, they trotted briskly from one place to another going about their business, although the captain was pleased to notice that a mixture of her Guardsponies, Lunars, and Ponyville Watch deputies were posted at key intersections. A few even bothered to salute her as she passed. She had to give it to Twilight- the scholar’s weird little deal with that stage magician had noticeably livened up the camp. Even the grey sky didn't feel quite as overbearing. In fact, the last report she’d read from Applejack said the number of civilian Ponyville staff had doubled, and incidents of workplace injuries and general burnout were, for the first time in months, on the decline. There was even talk of bringing in a school group from the town to visit, sometime in the next few days. If minor artifacts didn’t keep disappearing, the captain might even have been able to relax a little. Then 1stSgt Chamomile stepped out of the command tent and trotted over to her. “Uhhh… Cap’n, sir? We’ve… got a little bit of a problem.” Nopony around seemed to be paying much attention, and as Marigold peered at him in confusion, her XO held a feather to his lips and then waved her forward. Silently curious, she followed him over to the side of one of the processing tents- where recovered artifacts were sorted, evaluated for any hazards, given a cursory initial cleaning, and packed securely for transport back down to the Station. The front flaps were open, but Marigold couldn't hear the muffled scraping and brushing sounds of the cleaning crew inside at work. She cautiously peered around the corner, and was greeted with the sight of perhaps a dozen of Ponyville's civilians, seated at a trestle table filled with cleaning supplies, fine tools, and various rusty bits of Lunar iconography, noticeably not hard at work. Twilight typically employed locals for this type of job because they were conscientious, dedicated, quick learners, and their efforts freed up the Lunar, Royal Guard, and Academy specialists for more demanding tasks. Usually. “See that blue mare over there, on the end?” Chamomile prompted in a whisper. Marigold had overseen the show at Castle Rock, but was surprised to find Trixie Lulamoon packed in among the regulars. She sat at one end of the table in front of a pile of mud-encrusted First Century coins; the workers nearby peered at her with rapt attention, their work seemingly forgotten for the moment. “Oh, I’ve done shows all over the Known World! Saddle Arabia, Abyssinia, and even Mount Aris! But never Klugetown, the Great and Powerful Trixie has to have some standards, after all!” She laughed, and shook some debris off of a coin in her telekinesis. It was imprinted with a faint half-moon emblem and the profile of Princess Luna: one of the Rebel-minted copies of the era’s golden Bit that had begun showing up just before the Fall of Everfree. “Huh. Do you think these are real gold?” To Trixie’s left, a pony Marigold vaguely recognized as Sassaflash nodded. “Has anypony else here been to Saddle Arabia?” the showmare asked as she set the coin aside. “Oooh, yeah, I went to a convention in Neighdina, once!” offered Birch Bucket. “Isn’t Dr. Daycaller from there?” asked Blossom Delight. “Oh! Well, how about Abyssinia?” Trixie’s grin narrowed ever-so-slightly. She was treated to a chorus of ‘no’s and shaking heads. “Welllll,” the unicorn mare leaned forward and rested her hooves on the table, “It’s really just an amazing place. Did you know you can walk into any Abyssinian bank and redeem ducat coins for solid gold bullion?” Marigold wasn’t entirely certain what was supposed to be so special about that fact, as one could do something similar in Equestria or just about anywhere else in the Known World. It was called ‘buying gold’, and although a better venue for doing so would likely be a jeweler or alchemical supply shop, she was fairly certain most Equestrian banks did indeed offer commodity brokerages. If Trixie had meant to imply that Abyssinia backed its currency with gold, that was also not the case- if Marigold recalled correctly, only Minos and the Centaur Union remained on the gold standard. Odd. The captain stepped forward into the tent, made a little ahem noise, and motioned for the foremare, Ambrosia, to come over. “What’s that show pony doing here?” she asked quietly. “Who, Trixie?” Ambrosia shrugged. “Well, her telekinesis has a soft touch, and somepony’d have to clean all those coins and little silver gewgaws eventually, and in case you haven’t noticed the recent influx of artifacts has left us a little strapped for marepower here…” the townspony smiled a slightly-too-wide-smile, “so it wasn’t like I was going to say no when she asked if she could lend a hoof…” Marigold dipped her neck slightly to look the shorter pony in the eye. “Is she on the work roster?” “… No?” Ambrosia’s smile slowly faded. “Is she cleared for hazard detail?” “No, ma’am.” Marigold pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Has she at least signed the liability and non-disclosure waivers?” “Not that I know of, officer. Ma’am.” Marigold worked to put together her best ‘don’t piss me off’ face. She’d had a lot of practice recently. “Is there any legitimate reason for her to be here?” Ambrosia shifted from one hoof to the other. “She… brought us coffee?” The captain just stared at her until she took an involuntary step backwards. “Okay, yeah, I’ll get her out of here.” Marigold let her expression drift back to neutral, and clapped what she hoped was a friendly hoof against Ambrosia’s shoulder. In response, the foremare nearly collapsed where she stood. “Don’t worry, Ambrosia. I’ll handle it.” Later, Twilight Sparkle paced tight, uneasy circles within a patch of crushed foliage deep in the Everfree forest. At the outer edge, Fluttershy, Dr. Daycaller, Pvt Parhelion, and a very tired-looking Capt Marigold peered and prodded at something that barely qualified as a carcass. Shattered bones and chunks of meat, some still covered in tawny fur, were spread out over the whole of the clearing and into the forest beyond. The smell was… unique, to say the least. Twilight found herself fighting back a brief surge of nausea, although neither Fluttershy nor Marigold looked particularly discomfited. “I… think this was a manticore,” the pegasus ranger finally said, and waved a wing with a pinfeather extended to point at a few different chunks of flesh. As far as Twilight was concerned, they were just as unrecognizable as all the others. “That’s a wing, over there, and this…” She reached down with one hoof and extracted a few massive, chitinous segments resembling an outsized scorpion tail, with a broken barb still dangling from the end, “was the stinger.” Twilight nodded, and then noticed the pegasus’s hoof was trembling slightly. She considered Fluttershy’s last encounter with a manticore in the Everfree, back during their race to reach the Castle of the Two Sisters and confront Nightmare Moon. Her ears dropped down in sympathy. “Oh. Oh, shit, Fluttershy, was this-” “I don’t think so,” the ranger muttered, quietly enough that only Twilight could hear. “I hope it wasn’t. There isn’t much mane here, and the metasoma -the tail- is short and truncated. I think this is- this was a female.” Across the clearing, Dr. Daycaller asked “So, what eats these things? And do we need to worry about it coming after us?” Fluttershy, silently, pointed a wing down at the clearing they were standing in. Confused, Twilight followed the contours of the torn vegetation and compacted soil. She saw Parhelion swallow hard, her eyes going wide; then Daycaller gave a brief whistle. Finally, in a moment of almost disorienting realization, the shape of the clearing around Twilight resolved itself into a gigantic but oddly shallow pawprint. Capt Marigold whinnied in surprise. “Holy shit!” “Huge, but surprisingly light?” Fluttershy continued, trotting in a tight circle, “I think this might be an Ursa. And given the size of the print, and the fact that it… uh, crushed a full-grown manticore, I think it’s safe to say this isn’t a Minor.” Twilight pulled to a sudden halt and looked at the ranger. “Now, that’s interesting! Do you know where it might’ve come from? Because, if it's the same one of the Lunars summoned…” Ursas were one of several forms of life to inhabit the celestial firmament- the vast realm of stars, purified aether, and bitter cold that formed the infinite buffer between the Material and Astral Planes. Equestrian science had long ago probed it with balloon-mounted instruments and powerful divinations, and there was nothing preventing a living pony from traveling there physically. Indeed, the spell that brought about Nightmare Moon’s return had recently sent Princess Celestia some significant distance into it. However, the lack of any usable resources combined with the utter hostility of the environment made it an unattractive destination. At high enough altitudes, matter began to lose definition and erode, and higher still space itself began to lose meaning. Yet even under such extreme conditions, life existed- strange, luminous, nebulous creatures more reminiscent of specimens dredged up from the deep ocean than any airborne species. Some of the more solid ones could be summoned by magic; or, occasionally, fell to the surface of their own accord, usually with calamitous results. Ursas were among the more common of such interlopers- oddly so, given the presence of eighty-eight other astrologically significant constellations. Rumors of astral scorpions occasionally surfaced in the Arimaspi Desert, but the Ursas usually confined themselves to the cold emptiness of the Frozen North. Finding one in the Everfree was thus both intriguing and potentially indicative. “I’m not sure where it came from, but… it’s hunting. That’s a bad sign.” Fluttershy explained. “Normally, they stay dormant for hundreds of years, and don’t really need to eat.” “Oh, like timberwolves!” Marigold suggested. “Oh, no, timberwolves eat,” Fluttershy told her, “The controlling intelligence might be spectral in nature, but they’re animating a body that’s still made of living plants, and plants need nutrients. Ursas are… forces.” “Do you know how long it’s been down here?” Twilight asked. “Well…” Fluttershy walked at a measured pace from one end of the clearing to the other, counting quietly under her breath. “The print’s about seven meters long… and an ordinary bear with a shoulder height of one meter has a forty-centimeter paw print… so I’d say this Ursa is about twenty-five meters tall?” Parhelion shook her head and muttered “Aww, rut me…” “Well, I’m very flattered by the offer, but I’m afraid I’m happily married,” Daycaller laughed, and then snapped his muzzle shut when Capt Marigold shot him a particularly withering stare. “Of course, there’s a lot of variation due to diet,” Fluttershy continued. “We should be glad there aren’t many fish here. Otherwise, it could be even bigger.” “Yeah, I guess we can thank that locked-down double river bullshit for something, at least. That, or there used to be fish here and it just ate them all…” Marigold scuffed a patch of already flattened grass with her sabaton. “Anyway, that works out to about… twelve hundred years old? But I’m afraid there’s no way of telling how long it’s been on the surface instead of up in the firmament,” Fluttershy amended, after catching sight of Twilight’s hopeful expression. Marigold looked from Twilight to Fluttershy a few times, then shrugged. “So… whaddaya think we should do about it?” “For the time being, just keep on the lookout for more incidents like this” the ranger suggested. “If this is the only one, then it’s safe to say the Ursa just got hungry this decade.” “I’d really rather not have a repeat of the hydra debacle,” Twilight chided, “Or worse, the cockatrice. I’d really appreciate it if you could find its cave and quarantine the area, just to be safe. With a little luck, we might even find out what happened to Luna’s battlemages in the process!” “Well, if that’s the case, we should probably prioritize a thorough search of all the caves we’ve ID’d aerially,” suggested Capt Marigold. “Or,” Dr. Daycaller cut in, “We could try lifting a latent impression from the track, and following its selenitic matter signature directly.” Twilight half-raised a front hoof. “Um, Doctor, Ursas are from the deep firmament, not the moon. Why would they contain selenitic matter?” "Excuse me, I-" “Perhaps this one incorporated some through its long proximity to the Lunars and Lunar artifacts?” the diviner suggested, as Fluttershy took wing and glided some distance away, staring intently at a patch of vegetation. “That would also help identify the Ursa the Lunars summoned over possible confounders- this being the Everfree, after all, the odds of there being other celestial creatures inside of it are not zero!” “Right…” Twilight nodded, then trailed off. “The problem is, they have extremely little physical mass to even become contaminated. It’d be like trying to corrode gravity, or burn lightning.” She paused, and reached telekinetically into her saddlebags- surprisingly, the paper she’d expected to find inside was gone. “Hey, does anypony know what happened to my map of Everfree? I know I was looking at it when we were at the garrison ruins off the Day Court, and then I thought I put it back in my bag, but…” "Girls, I'm looking at-" Daycaller scratched under his neatly-trimmed orange beard, eyes narrowing in concentration. “But what about-” “I… uhhh… hate to interrupt the mages’ symposium here, but… unless the damn thing can fly, can’t we just follow the footprints?” Suggested Capt Marigold. “Well, it’s still the Everfree, so even that won’t be as simple as Point A to Point B-” Twilight warned. “Twilight?” The mage turned when she heard Fluttershy mutter in that strange quiet shout of hers, “I think I found the next track over there. If I had… maybe a day or so, and some supplies, I could probably find where they lead. And the Ursa’s such an… alien creature that asking the local wildlife where the giant patch of hungry stars lives could actually give us… some pretty good information?” She nodded at the ranger and grinned, sheepishly. “Thank you, Fluttershy. Keep on that, and don’t be afraid to talk to Marigold if you need extra marepower. Oh, and… don’t forget your tracking gem. ” Twilight waved over at the captain, who also nodded. “I'm going to head back to the Golden Oaks and see if I have another copy of my map. I'll get one for you too, Fluttershy.” She stepped past Daycaller, waved, and grinned a particularly sadistic grin. “Oh, and, good luck with that school tour tomorrow…” “… so Ah reckon we can get it cleared by the end of the day if’n Big Mac’s free,” Applejack explained to Twilight as they sat in the unicorn’s office in the Golden Oaks. Then she paused. “Hey, your brother’s one a’ them Guardsponies, right? You got any tips on how much they usually drink?” Twilight chewed on her lower lip. “Quite a lot, actually. The Guard used to have a big problem with alcoholism, but getting that sorted out was one of the reasons Shiny got promoted Commander. They’re still pretty heavy drinkers, though, when they’re off duty and can cut loose a little. In fact, a review of the Ministry of Health’s survey data from 1092 through 1096 found that soldiers spend more days a year consuming alcohol than ponies in any other profession.” “Well, horseapples. 'Cider-fest' ’s comin’ up awful soon, ‘n Ah don’t wanna get left high ‘n dry again. We almost got a handle on the cider supply last year, ‘n we were hopeful this year, ‘til you ‘n a whole darn company a' troops showed up.” Twilight nodded in understanding. “Well, if it’s any trouble, I could always declare the festival off-limits to anypony who’s not a local… morale’ll take a hit, again, but I think keeping us from inconveniencing the town is more important.” “Aww, now, Twi, Ah wouldn’t dream of it! Some of our best customers travel here from other towns. An’ besides, those servicemares are payin’ customers, aren’t they? If we pass on the ice cider this winter, Ah reckon we’ll have enough cider apples for everypony. And enough cider left over for a decent crop a’ applejack, too.” Twilight shot the farmer a confused glance. “Umm… so to speak.” She paused, seemingly satisfied, stood up, and headed for the door. Then, at Twilight’s continued silence, she explained, “You know, apple brandy? Granny always used to joke that Ah got mah name ‘cause that was what Ma ‘n Pa were drinkin’ the night they-” She cut off suddenly when she found herself face to face with Spike. “Uhhh… heya, Spike, what’s up?” The dragon twisted his claws back and forth nervously. "We've, ahem, got a visitor." Twilight swallowed hard, climbed out of her chair, and peered through the doorway into the library’s main room. Trixie was sitting at the central table. “Can I… help you?” the scholar asked. “Oh. Yes! Wellll…” Trixie leaned back on her stool and shifted her forehooves outward. “After my show -which, I would like to note, the Great and Powerful Trixie was more than willing to relocate to that awful forest on your behalf- I ran into your friend Dr. Verse. She was bashing her head against the simple problem of how the Lunar Rebels got a half-ton of blasting crystals from a church, to the Council chambers. After reviewing her notes, it was obvious- basic, even. So I figured I’d lend a hoof and explain how the Lunars used a series of distractions to walk their bomb right up to the castle. You can ask the doctor for the whole story. After that, she invited me to regale the workers with stories of my worldly travels, while I assisted in polishing, inspecting, and tagging artifacts. I’d say it was a waste of Trixie’s considerable talents, but the digging crew were an outstanding audience- and then that security mare of yours, Capt Marigold I think her name was, showed up and told me I didn’t have the proper paperwork. So… here I am!” The scholar blinked, utterly bewildered. “So you’re asking for, like… a performance license or something? Because I really am just a historian with a few security staff; I don’t have anything to do with running the town. You’d have to go over to the town hall for anything like that.” “You oversee a company of Guardsmares, with gunship at your command," Trixie paused, "all Trixie needs is permission to move around your camp without being… hassled. Signing me on with the Ponyville workers in the Castle Rock group would be perfect.” Twilight raised one eyebrow and pivoted her ears forward. “I talked it over with your dragon friend before he went and got you,” the showmare explained. Twilight glanced over at Spike, as surreptitiously as she could manage. Very slightly, Spike nodded. Then he gave a polite little cough. “Dr. Sparkle and I actually need to clear up a few other little bits of bookkeeping… and also get your authorization forms. Can you give us just a few minutes?” Trixie nodded, and he stepped back into the office. Twilight followed, and eased the door shut in her telekinesis. Applejack was still seated in one of the guest chairs, her hat on the desk beside her, looking over a clipboard of figures and occasionally cursing to herself in particularly oblique folk sayings. She looked up when her friends reentered. “Ah heard.” “And what do you think?” Twilight asked, careful to keep her voice low. “Well, if’n you really want mah opinion, you’re better off not havin’ anythin’ more to do with that tramp.” Twilight cocked her head and narrowed her eyes skeptically. “Well, not that kinda’ tramp,” the farmer clarified, “but… still.” Twilight just shrugged, growing ever more confused. “AJ, what exactly is your problem with Trixie?” “Ah can’t rightly put mah hoof on it,” the farmer leaned back in her chair, paused, and then continued, “but she just gives me a bad vibe, Ah guess you could call it. Like she knows somethin’ the rest of us don’t.” “Of course she knows something the rest of us don’t, Applejack. She’s a stage magician,” Twilight admonished gently. When the farmer’s expression remained unchanged, she continued, “You know what they say about guts and gut feelings.” Applejack cocked her head. “...they're full of crap?” That at least got her to chuckle. “Seriously, are you sure you’re not just still angry at her for pulling a fast one on you with that one rope trick?” “I don’t know, but I just think the whole thing is kind of strange,” Spike cut in, “Dr. Twilight Sparkle, famous patron of the arts? Important enough that performers seek her out?” “Well when you put it that way it does seem kind of odd,” the unicorn conceded, “but… the mare herself seems pretty harmless, doesn’t she? And she’s been a noticeable help in turning things around personnel-wise…” “Okay, yes, but… the last time I stopped by Rarity’s shop, she said Trixie’d been nosing around in there, too!” Twilight nodded again, this time in what she hoped was a noncommittal fashion. “And… did she buy anything?” “Yeah, she dropped something like five hundred bits on enchantments for her cloak.” The unicorn’s eyes narrowed. “So, you’re telling me that a pony went to Rarity’s boutique… with the express intention of… buying clothes?!” “Well… yeah.” Spike suddenly seemed to become extremely interested in his own clawed hands. “But, you see, as soon as she came into town, I… went ahead and sent a request for a background check up to Canterlot. And there’s practically nothing under the name Trixie Lulamoon- as in, her records are empty. She attended Celestia’s School for Gifted Ponies -enrolled the same year you did, actually- and there’s one accusation that she tried to bribe higher-performing students to throw a test and increase the curve, but it doesn’t look like anything came of it? Then… that’s it. Not so much as a registration form for that wagon of hers.” “Impressive,” Twilight herself had been accepted to the School two years earlier than normal, at the age of ten. She was twenty-six now, so Trixie had to be pushing thirty. “She was all over the stage yesterday…” She didn’t actually remember a Trixie Lulamoon ever being at the school, but then again Twilight didn’t remember most of her classmates- aside from Moondancer and a few other fellow loners, she was far too busy overseeing Spike’s upbringing and sitting for extra lessons with Princess Celestia to pay them any attention. She turned to her assistant and once again summoned her best attempt at Twilight Velvet’s ‘serious voice’: “Well, it sounds to me like Trixie’s been a drifter for a good portion of her life, and probably because of something that wasn’t entirely her fault.” A lot of students at the School for Gifted Ponies simply cracked under the intense pressure; and more than a few others resorted to some fairly underhoofed tactics in order to secure their place in the all-important rankings. “If we can get her a stable paycheck, even a small one… is that really such a bad thing to do? She’s clearly a smart and driven mare, even if her talents are… less then academic in nature. Maybe she’ll even be helpful dealing with those Lunar Studies creeps in the papers.” “Well, it’s your rodeo,” said Applejack, “Even A’hm technically just another hired hoof. But… don’t come ‘round sayin’ Ah didn’t warn ya.” Spike shrugged, and quietly extracted the relevant forms from his small desk by the door. They appeared to already be mostly filled out, and Twilight shot him a curious look. “Whaaat?” he said, defensively, “I thought I’d come prepared, just in case.” Then his voice dropped to a barely audible hiss. “Although, I’m also gonna write to Professor Glimmerdust- she’s the head of the Academic Conduct Committee at the School now- and see if I can dig up any more information on that report.” Twilight looked from him to Applejack and back again. “You both need to learn to stop being so paranoid. I got enough of that nonsense over in Innsbeak.” Then she slid open the study door and stepped outside with the forms held in her telekinesis. She slipped them onto the central table and instructed Trixie, “All right. Just sign here, here, and here, and we should have you back onsite by this time tomorrow!” The other unicorn grinned, produced one of Twilight’s own quills from no visible source, and signed a complicated, loopy signature. “The Great and Powerful Trrrixie is forever in your debt!” Suddenly feeling more than a little bit awkward, Twilight paused, then continued. “As for your payment… our budget’s running a little bit tight right now, but I can still get you into the civilian contractor pay system, which is-” “Oh.” The showmare waved her hoof back and forth. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is fine with whatever you pay her. Most of my bits come from tips after performances, anyway.” Her expression was relaxed- laid-back, even- but Twilight was momentarily taken off-guard by her eyes, almost vibrating in their sockets. “Ah. Right. I… guess that makes sense?” Twilight stuck out her hoof and tapped it against Trixie’s. “To… opportunity, then?” The showmare nodded. “To opportunity!” Ponyville always confused Rain Chaser, whenever she had occasion to visit it. Then again, so did most other places both within and beyond the Naval Yard. It was incredibly clean and intimidatingly large- more a decently-sized town than a village by her standards. Single peasant families -or ‘working class’, as they were called now- lived in houses that could’ve easily accommodated a minor noblemare and all her servants in Chaser’s day. There was glass everywhere: in ordinary windows and nearly entire walls of the stuff on storefronts, including the mysteriously-named ‘convenience store’ that stood just off the main market square. Every single building, it seemed, featured indoor plumbing, and some were even ‘air conditioned’; the former was a luxury of the very rich in Chaser’s day, and the latter a marvel completely unheard-of. And at virtually every opportunity, there was writing- on street signs, on the base of the monument in the center of the town square, outside of stores, and even on the strange little cardboard boxes containing the goods the stores sold. She’d earned herself more than a few curious stares as she wandered the bustling streets, but that was to be expected- in the harsh afternoon sun, her pupils had probably shrunken to thin, vertical lines. On the whole, however, the ponies she spoke to had been friendly. Three months ago by her reckoning, or a millennium ago by everypony else’s, her unit had passed through a village much like this one, in much the same place on the outskirts of Everfree, and they had been far less welcome. The new town elder had claimed everypony was grateful to be liberated by the Lunars -after they’d beheaded the old town elder, of course- but parents had still held their children just a little bit closer whenever Chaser and her fellows marched past. Now, however, ponies smiled, and waved, and were more than happy to read off particularly dense lettering or offer her directions. “Rainbow Dash?” explained a turquoise pegasus in what Chaser vaguely recognized as a weatherworker’s vest. She was seated at a table in an outdoor cafe, with a glass of that strange, bubbly not-beer in front of her- ‘soda’, Chaser thought it was called. “Yeah, she should still be around, but I haven’t seen her since this morning. If she’s working, just look for the contrail up above. Really, though, your best bet is to get airborne yourself, and check the clouds for a little rainbow patch, sleeping it off. She was supposed to cover the commercial district today, so you’d probably be best starting over Carousel Boutique- that’s the little round building next to the town hall.” “Aye, thank you.” Chaser had gotten fairly familiar with the establishment in question, but she could hardly blame the weathermare for wanting to be helpful. Instead she nodded, stretched out her wings, and took off; flapping frantically to gain altitude and then settling into a long, circling glide that gave her a good view of the town below. A few other pegasi flew above or below her, hauling this or repairing that, and one even waved, but none were Rainbow Dash. After a minute of searching, Chaser spotted a glimpse of cyan on one of the smaller low-lying clouds, and cautiously descended. Drawing closer, she saw it was indeed the weather captain, sprawled out on her back with her eyes closed. That seemed an odd thing for a weathermare to be doing at this hour, although Chaser supposed it was possible the craft had changed since her day and cloud-minders were expected to spend a significant portion of their working hours in quiet meditation. There was an odd metal case sitting on the cloud beside her- a shinier version of what soldiers at the Yard used to transport expensive munitions- and some sort of brightly-colored pamphlet on top. The Lunar pegasus’s enhanced vision could just about make out the words Sapphire: Equestrian Commando in big yellow text, and an image of a dark blue pegasus mare in armor bucking the head off a waterlogged zombie draped in the remnants of a suit. Rain Chaser didn't exactly know what the word ‘Commando’ actually meant, but the illustration certainly made being one look like great fun. She glided over and touched down on the cloud, utterly silent by force of habit if nothing else. Rainbow Dash’s ears twitched slightly, but she otherwise didn’t respond, so Chaser whickered quietly. When that had no effect, she asked “Erhm…Cpt. Rainbow Dash?” “I'm not- ‘sssleep- gyaaah!” The other pegasus jolted awake, one hoof reaching for something on the leather bandoleer she’d wrapped over her weather team vest, but then she relaxed. “Oh, uhh, hey, it’s you! Rainy-something, right?” She flipped around so that she was sitting on her haunches. “I was just… uhh… sitting down for a little lunch break.” That struck Rain Chaser as odd given that it was currently almost three in the afternoon. She supposed ponies’ habits might’ve simply changed over the last thousand years, although the staff at Fillydelphia Harbor always dined closer to noon. Perhaps they were trying to accommodate their Lunar guests by adjusting to older traditions? Even though they still ate during daylight hours like Loyalists… Still, that had to be the explanation; definitely not the weather captain of Ponyville demonstrating a degree of laziness that would’ve seen her set in the stocks in Chaser’s day. “… Aye,” was all the Lunar soldier said aloud. “So, uhh… care to join me?” Rainbow motioned to the metal case. “Aye?” Chaser settled down into the cloudstuff, which felt soft and unbelievably clean against her barrel. She shifted awkwardly in place- she’d delighted in the newfound opportunity to bathe regularly at the Yard, but still felt as though she was dirtying the cloud simply by being in contact with it. “Hey. Whatsa’ matter?” Rainbow’s ears dropped down in concern. “These clouds… they are… perfect. Uniform. Like every cloud in the sky is the same cloud,” she finally answered. “Well, yeah. This batch got shipped in from Cloudsdale as a single unit. We just broke it up and distributed it. It’d be weird if it wasn’t all the same texture, that’d mean we got a bad batch from the factory.” Rain Chaser just nodded, somewhat confused by the details of Rainbow’s explanation but reassured by her casual tone. If she wasn’t supposed to be sitting on the cloud, the weathermare would have just told her. She settled deeper into the puffy material. “Hey, you want something to eat?” Rainbow asked, and flipped open the metal case. In a hollow cut into the foam packing sat a big, shiny bottle with a flip-up cap -a thermos, Chaser thought it was called- and what appeared to be sandwiches wrapped in clear, clingy film. The weathermare grabbed both packages in a wing, tossed one at Chaser’s hooves, and set about unwrapping the other for herself. It looked to be made of the same soft, white bread that seemed to be everywhere in this era. Tentatively, Chaser stretched out her own wing and began pulling away the clingy film. “Don’t worry, if I get hungry later on I’ll grab something from home,” Dash explained, leaving Rain Chaser mildly confused again. Just one sandwich looked sizable enough to feed an ordinary pony for an entire day. Then again, Rainbow Dash was significantly bigger than what Chaser considered ordinary- all of the inhabitants of ‘modern’ Equestria were. Nonetheless, the Lunar soldier nodded. Dash reached into her bandoleer, produced a wickedly-sharp dagger -the Moon only knew why she’d brought it along on weather detail- and neatly sliced her sandwich in half. Tentatively, Chaser scooped her own up in one wing and took a bite. Her jaw practically vibrated from the surge of overpowering sweetness. She managed to swallow a single bite of thick, gooey paste, and was attempting another when her throat rebelled; she reeled back and spat a glob of half-chewed bread and sticky filling over the edge of the cloud, onto somepony’s thatched roof. Oh well. It wasn’t as though anypony would be walking around up there regardless. “What… what was that?” she panted. The other pegasus peered at her, confused. “Honey and marshmallow,” she explained. “Yours’s got chocolate syrup, too. Being able to make my own lunches is awesome.” Then her ears turned down in concern. “Hey, are you okay? I didn’t mean to… uhh, like, poison you or anything… you guys eat meat, right? Oh, crap, can you not eat chocolate?” “I do not know who told you that,” Chaser explained, as soon as she could get her throat working again. “I have eaten raw pigeon eggs, during the Great Northern Famine of the year 93, but this was… horrible.” The honey had still tasted like honey, but that mysterious white paste tasted like pure sugar. Worse than pure sugar, even. Back at the Yard their meals were simple mess hall fare prepared under strict instructions from the physicians, so her experience with modern food was limited. “Wait, what’s this about pigeon eggs?” At Rainbow Dash’s bewildered expression, Chaser continued. “I actually found three eggs, all together in a nest. One, I cracked open and ate where I stood. I planned to keep the other two, but an older filly saw me carrying them and took them…” the bat-winged pegasus grinned, proudly, “but she had to break my wing to do it.” Chaser had been expecting Rainbow to be impressed, but the older mare just looked appalled. “Well… uh… I’ve also got some carrots in here. And… there’s a fruit stand across the street, I can fly down and get you something really quick…” “Nay, nay. The… carrots, perhaps.” Chaser answered. “Sure thing.” Rainbow dug through her pack and produced another wrapped package. Chaser grabbed it in one hoof, pulled off the clingy wrapping, extracted a solitary carrot, and cautiously took a bite. The taste was certainly sweeter than any vegetable she remembered from the First Century, but not unpleasant. “Perfect carrots, perfect clouds… I suppose the weathermares do not even need to hoof-pack them anymore!” Chaser mused. “Blessed moonlight, ‘tis no wonder you’ve so much time to sleep. Three ponies can put up the weather for a town this size in an hour!” Rainbow Dash grinned a little too wide. “Uhh… yeah! Totally! Gotta… gotta love those modern conveniences?” “Aye, thou art no fat, lazy dullard at all!” Chaser laughed, then fell silent when Dash’s expression suddenly turned venomous. “Which is… something the other ponies in town may have told me,” she finished, awkwardly. “Hey! I might be lazy… and a dullard, whatever that is, but I’m not fat!” Rainbow shouted, and then smacked a hoof against her own chest. “This is all muscle right here!” Chaser laughed again, and this time the weathermare laughed right along with her. Then she peered more closely at the odd little booklet Rainbow Dash had brought along with her. In addition to the title, it was annotated with a date, price, and “The PULSE-POUNDING, GUT-WRENCHING CONCLUSION to the RAMPAGE OF THE CHICOLTGO MOB!” “What… is that?” she asked Rainbow Dash. “Oh, this?” Rainbow picked it up in one wing and flipped it open. “It’s a comic book. It’s got a story like a regular book, except instead of just telling you what’s going on, it’s all illustrations that actually show you. The little bubbles with the text in them tell you what each character is saying, see?” “Ah! Like a panel-book! We were issued such things to learn from in the Night Guard.” “Huh. Yeah, you’re right, I can see the resemblance,” the weathermare muttered. “Shit, now those SLES freaks are going to start claiming Princess Luna predicted comic books.” Chaser peered intently at the open page. It depicted several images of the armored blue pegasus mare from the cover, engaged in various forms of physical struggle against a horrific amalgamation of rubbery heads, hooves, and contorted equine bodies- or, rather, the same forms of struggle, as the mass appeared in an identical configuration in multiple panels and only the armored mare’s pose changed. What little dialogue there was seemed mostly to consist of profanities. She looked up at Rainbow Dash. “Hmm? Oh. It’s a fight scene with a bunch of henchponies,” Rainbow Dash explained. After perhaps thirty seconds of peering at the page from different angles, Chaser was able to tease out the forms of individual ponies, warped though they may have been. The reason why they were replicated in the same pose across multiple panels remained a mystery, however- surely nopony would allow something so downright sloppy to be printed for wide publication, in the age of mass-produced clouds and white bread, no less! “That one pony looks more like… some sort of bean…” she muttered, feeling more bewildered even than the time she’d tried to master the Equestrian rail system and ended up at an airship fuel refinery in Gallopston. She’d initially mistaken it for some sort of enormous metal castle; it had turned out to be nothing of the kind. Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Yeah, the art in this issue isn’t really that great. I don’t get what kind of style this is even supposed to be- ‘high energy’ or ‘super-toon’, it’s called, but I think it makes everypony look like frozen, deformed freaks. The story’s pretty good, though, and the art in the rest of ‘em is badass. Spike’s also into comics, but don’t tell him you like these ones- he’ll whine at you all day about ‘plot consistency’ and ‘artistic integrity’ and ‘the difference between being mature and edgy’ and a bunch of other snobby crap like that.” “Can I… borrow it?” Chaser asked. “The officers at the Yard only give us foals' books to practice our reading, and only if they think they fit with ‘Lunar values’.” “Hey now, don’t knock kids’ books,” Rainbow Dash waved a wing. “That one about Queen Chrysalis and the sneeches and the machine that gave them all stars was how my mom and dad taught me to stay away from tribalists. But I get your point.” She folded the comic closed again. “This thing isn’t exactly… overburdened with words, but you can have it if you want. There’s a shop in town on Canter Street where you can get more, too. They run about four bits- two, if you wait a month. Point is, they’re cheap. You can probably find one that’s challenging, but isn’t overwhelming, pretty easily.” Rain Chaser grabbed the booklet in her wing and slipped it into her armor’s saddlebags. “… thank you.” “Sure, don’t worry about it.” For a few minutes, both pegasi simply sat where they were, watching the townsponies busy about down below, Rainbow Dash quietly munching on her monstrosity of a sandwich. Then, finally, Rain Chaser swallowed hard and said, “Actually, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about…” She’d spoken to Cpt. Vortex first, and Cpt. Vortex had notified Steel Shank, who had in turn spoken with Forward March, who had advised that the proper pony to contact was undoubtedly Twilight Sparkle. But Twilight Sparkle still scared the ever-loving moonlight out of Rain Chaser -she got the impression Twilight still scared Vortex, too, although the Shadowbolt would never willingly admit it- and Rainbow Dash presented a much more accommodating option. “Shoot.” Chaser looked around, spotted no other ponies lurking nearby, and then continued. “That… conjurer Dr. Sparkle has brought in…” “The what now? One of the mages?” “The blue unicorn mare, who performs on stage.” “Oh. Right. Trixie. The magician.” “She looks… familiar. I think I have seen her before. At the Station. While Dr. Sparkle was petrified.” “Oh, wow, shit.” Rainbow idly scraped a line through the cloud with her hoof. “Are you sure?” “I… do not know. I saw the mare at the Station only once, from behind, and briefly. I do not even know for certain it was a mare. Her tail looked like the conjurer’s, but… I do not know. That is why I came to thee.” “Huh.” Rainbow abandoned her sandwich and tapped her hoof against her jaw a few times, muzzle scrunched up in concentration. “Do you think you might be able to make a more positive ID if you got a closer look at her?” “Maybe. Or if I saw her doing the things that mare at the Station was doing. But I have barely seen her at all. I was at the Yard when she first performed, and was asleep the second time…” “Well, she’s got another show at the edge of town, near the Station, tomorrow night…” Rainbow pointed down at one of the signs littering the street below. Chaser hadn’t bothered to parse out the text. “I was gonna go. How ‘bout you join me? In fact… Okay. Yeah. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’ll be in the audience, and if you can push a cloud over there…”