//------------------------------// // Chapter Three: On The Line // Story: Teething Troubles // by The Great Scribbly One //------------------------------// 8pm, Melada 24th Fading, 1010 "Cheer up, brother." Said Flim, nudging Flam as they drove over lanes devoid of snow. "We're still in with a chance!" It didn't seem to help much. "Yes yes, brother. The final five. But we're not exactly the favourites, are we?" "So what? Then we sell abroad!" Flim countered. "I'm sure plenty of those Griffon backwaters are just salivating for the Bonder." "Oh brother of mine..." Flam shook his head hesitantly. "There's this odd feeling in the back of my head. Or maybe my flank, I'm not sure. But... It's telling me that for once, we might have a real winner with this one." "Of course! We'll be the heroes who built the war-winning machine!" Flim agreed, gesticulating with a hoof at the dark, empty Prench fields and probably not giving the road as much attention as he ought. "We'll be rolling in dosh! Plaudits! Maybe even OEEs!" "If we don't buck up." Flam said. "It'd be nice to be able to stay in a place for a while." "Thinking of settling down, brother?" Flim teased. Flam waved a dismissive hoof. "Nah, of course not! I'd just like to move on when we feel like it, for a change." "We'll get to, nothing can go wrong this time." Said Flim. "That's what you usually say, brother." Said Flam. "We have fixed everything this time, right? Insulated the coolant pipes, added small print disclaimer about deserts?" "Everything, oh brother of mine." Assured Flim. "That wreck they fished out of the lake even gave me an idea of how to improve our engine based on our car batteries." "You modified the engine?" Asked Flam. Flim nodded eagerly. "Last night, it was easy enough so I didn't bother to wake you. The turbo charger should let it get a nice turn of speed in a pinch." Flam looked nervous. "You do realise that wreck was at the bottom of the lake because the engine got stuck on its highest gear and melted the brakes, right?" Flim echoed his brother's earlier casual gesture. "I did a far better job than those numpties... Will need to charge the batteries again soon though. I had to borrow a bank for the upgrade." He added, glancing at the dashboard. "I'm sure you did, oh brother of mine, I'm sure you did. But can you unmodify it again please? At least for the trials." Flam paused for a moment, thinking. "Let's call the Terrific Thaumic Turbo Charger 1000 (patent pending) an... Optional add-on." Flim laughed, something he usually only did when easy money was involved. "I do like your thinking, brother. Cracking name and a double-dip on the profits!" "We demonstrate it separately. Later." Flam insisted through the mirth. "This is our chance at the big time brother, a royal commission. Flim Flam Brothers, by royal appointment. I don't want to blow this on overreach." "Speaking of overreach..." Flim said as the car began to coast to a halt for the third time that evening. "She just wasn't built to tow a tank." Flam said. "Shame I couldn't get any petrol coupons under the table last week." "All the more reason to win this war. It's bucking bad for business." Flim grumbled, clambering down from his seat and opening the bonnet. 2pm, Orda 25th Fading, 1010 "You're late." Said the bored-looking sentry on the gate. "Fuel problems. With our car of course, not the tank." Flim said hurriedly. The soldier rolled her eyes. "Well, there is a war on." Then she waved them on. "Left, left and right. You can't miss it." As the car jerked against the flatbed and began to haul its load again, Flim was sure he heard the mare grumbling about something, probably about them but certainly unimportant. She was just a gate guard after all. She was right about not being able to lose their way though, the deep track marks and increasing hubub as they approached their destination made for better indicators than any signpost. "I need to find the toilets, watch the car will you, brother?" Flam said as they parked up inside a workshop marked out for the purpose. Flim shook his head. "Come now, none of these upright twerps will touch it, or the Bonder." Flam cast a suspicious eye toward their nearest competition, the engineers Stallion Limited. "Better safe than sabotaged, but if you're sure..." "I am, oh brother of mine, completely sure." Said Flim before leaning in and hushing his voice. "Actually, I was thinking of scouting out the competition a bit. Those two new designs might have some useful ideas to liberate." Flam bit his lip nervously. "Just so long as you stick to ideas. Don't push your luck." "Looksies, no touchsies, got it." Flim said cheerily. "What's gotten into you though, brother? You're as jumpy as a cricket in mustard." "We're in pretty deep, worrying about the pressure outside sounds like a pretty good idea to me." Flam said, turning to go. Flim was careful. It was a habit both brothers had picked up in their days rolling gambling scams at school, even if unflappability had taken long years and more than a few angry mobs to set in. Still, the road to 'legitimate' business is paved with rough lessons, and rather a lot of trips to the stocks... And community service notices... And fines... Those hurt the most really. The trick really was never quite doing anything so illegal that you ended up with a permanent criminal record. Come to think of it, that made Flam's worry look a lot more reasonable. Thus, for hours he had sidled from workshop to workshop, chatting and asking innocuous questions, the answers to which all added up to something less so. It was amazing what showing off a little genuine interest could get somepony to reveal. The results had done a lot for his confidence. Stallion didn't even seem to have a grasp on what their tank was called, let alone having it anywhere near ready if the number of bits it was in were any indication. Equestrian Electric had apparently got their tank to stop throwing its tracks and had stuck a cannon on it now, but one of the engineers had let slip that the turret had problems because of that. A tank that couldn't shoot properly wasn't a competitor. If it had been just the three of them, Flim was sure he and his brother would be rolling in royalties, but of course two more entrants had been allowed to join late. The 'Old Gang', as the bunch of greying Severyanians referred to themselves at every opportunity, hadn't let him near their 'beauty'. Or anypony else, for that matter. Paranoia meant they weren't cooperating, and Flim was sure he and his brother could out-engineer some oldsters. Then there was Coltden-Loyal, who had probably been the easiest to talk to, after Equestrian Electric's team. Theirs was a hunchback of a machine, and what he was most concerned by was their fuel consumption; Ancestors alone knew how they had managed to almost halve the Bonder's. As Flim was leaning against the wire fence at the edge of the compound, listening to the ongoing exercises in the middle distance and mulling over how they might be able to squeeze a few more leglesthae out of their tank's tanks, so to speak, a polite cough cut into his thoughts. Looking up, he saw a middle aged Earther mare with glasses and her dark mane tied up in a bun. "What do you want?" "Rather direct, don't you think?" The mare countered. "It's been a long day." Flim said. "And to be perfectly honest, you look like trouble." "Coming from one of the 'Famous FlimFlam Brothers', that's ripe." She said, somehow putting a poisonous twist into the sales pitch without altering her tone. "But I'm not here to bicker. Actually, I'm here with a business proposition." Flim raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that the point of the trials?" "Oh yes, but since we're being blunt, the crown can't exactly be seen dealing with your sort. Dirty names are just as bad for our business as war is." The mare said. Flim considered a riposte at the tarnishing of an already rusty brand, but business sense won out. "We don't do business without a name." There was a slight pause. "Raven Inkwell. Princess Celestia's personal assistant, among other things. My contacts have looked over your design-" She raised a hoof as Flim opened his mouth. "Your brother is quite well, even if he's a lousy lookout." "And the fact you've clearly been spying on us?" Flim forced through. "Said the pot to the kettle." Raven replied. "I'd rather call it scouting the competition." Flim said, scraping the ground assertively. "Of course. Well, we've been headhunting then." Raven said sweetly. "Your design is interesting, ahead of its time, even. But it's half-baked and you don't have the resources to realise its full potential. Barring a serious upset during the trials - and we will be investigating an upset - you won't win, but we would be interested in buying your prototype and blueprints for reappraisal a few years down the line, when the technology is more sound." "And what happens if we say no and sell abroad?" Flim asked suspiciously. "It's a free country, though of course freedom includes the freedom to take the consequences." Said Raven with a shrug. "In this case, merely a missed opportunity for profit, assuming you don't try something stupid like running to Changie. You can even keep copies of the blueprints if you want to sell them on elsewhere. Double dipping, I do believe you called it." "I'll have to discuss it with my brother." Flim said, though he was already fairly sure of the answer. The mare nodded. "Of course." 11am, Orda 25th Fading, 1010ALB The next morning, Flim paid special attention to the princess, what little he saw of her. Things were set up much as they had during the last round of trials she had attended, with a static appraisal followed by a mobile showcase, this time with test firing included. He wasn't sure if it was just the time of year or a few too many skipped meals or goodness knows what else, but Celestia seemed... Tired. Wilted, almost, as she approached them after Equestrian Electric and Coltden-Loyal's prototypes. She had been muttering something to that blasted assistant of hers about 'lethargic seasons' and in what Flim suspected was a fit of sympathy, Flam had even nudged him aside to ask him to tone down the sales pitch. She seemed rather unmoved, but that could have been last night's revelation, the lack of marketing or the tiredness at work. Then Stallion had played up the technical side of things, a Unicorn with a blue and gold mane spouting thaumatergic jargon at Celestia that, bizarrely, seemed to perk her up a little. Flim, listening in, was lost after about two sentences. Finally, there was the so-called Old Gang. There was nothing there, and for a moment Flim thought that they might have been trying the 'invisible product' scam, right up until the ground began to shake and the metal behemoth hoved into view. It was a battleship transposed onto land; a huge, unstoppable steel monster framed by squeaking, rattling treads and a pair of sponsons, each of which carried both a cannon and machine gun. Over three times as long as it was high or wide, the turret, from which yet another, even larger, cannon sprouted, towered over even the princess. "The Old Gang would like to present the SVC, the veapon that vill vin the var!" A husky Severyanian voice proudly declared as the cupola opened. The statement was undermined, or perhaps underlined, by how most of the bystanders had fled at the vehicle's onset. The remainder were simply struck dumb. Nonetheless, the stallion continued; "If ve learnt anything from the Falcor Var and the past months, it's that ve have a long slog ahead. Firepower to blast open bunkers and indestructibility to reach them will rule that battlefield, and on it, a brisk trot might as well be the unbreachable speed of sound!" "It's really more of a dreadnought than a cruiser, isn't it?" Somepony said. It took Flim a moment to realise it was himself. After that debacle, the five prototypes were driven out to the nearby woods, where similarly to the tests in the desert, they were put through their paces. There were no grand catastrophes like had befallen Stallion's previous prototype, their new model performing spectacularly well, blazing down the course and even able to fire with reasonable accuracy on the move, unlike most of the other offerings. The SVC also proved capable of this feat, albeit largely due to its contrasting near-glacial top speed, but its ability to cross rough ground was its greatest strength. Equestrian Electric's turret motor mechanism broke down, which being their main showcase did nothing for their cause, while the Bonder and Coltden-Loyal's hunchbacked 'Timberwolf' prototype doggedly puttered through the course, the Bonder proving the more agile while the Timberwolf's cannon punched well above what its size would lead one to expect, practically tearing several of the mock-up targets in half. Then came the endurance tests, which quite simply consisted of monotonously driving the tanks in laps around the course until something failed. Here again, Equestrian Electric soon fell flat with a return of the cursed tracks, followed by the SVC with a transmission failure. After that, rather a long time passed and Flim, having had a rather late night tweaking the Bonder, dozed off. He was awakened by his brother excitedly nudging him. "Twilight just blew a fuse!" Flim blinked groggily. "Wha?" "Stallion's tank, look!" Flam repeated, pointing excitedly into the middle distance, where a pair of soldiers had opened the engine cover of the vehicle, which had ground to a halt off to the side of the now well-worn track. "Oh yeah, that's what they're calling it now, isn't it?" Flim muttered. Flam's jubilation was somewhat short-lived however, as fuel consumption soon claimed the Bonder, the sweat-soaked crew of which seemed all too eager to abandon its cramped confines. The Timberwolf however, to the particular jubilation of a yellow Earther mare, just kept puttering on, and on, and on... In fact after another couple of hours it was the crew who flagged first, halting the run before fatigue caused an accident in the gloaming light. Celestia, who had seemed almost asleep herself, rose. "Mr. Girder, Mrs. Roe Bottom, a word if you please?" As the trio walked away, followed at a discrete distance by the princess' bodyguards, Flim turned to Flam. "So, when do we break out the champagne, oh brother of mine?" "You have both produced worthy tanks, and to be perfectly honest I am rather torn." Celestia said once she was sure they were out of earshot of the stands. "Mrs. Roe Bottom, I must say that I am the most impressed with your team's efforts. The performance of the Twilight speaks for itself, a little uncannily so at points considering the name, but when one considers the breadth of technical and thaumaturgic integration, it is a marvel of engineering. If a somewhat morbid one." The brown mare dipped her head. "Thank you, ma'am." The princess' tone fell. "A tank that no known Changeling weapon can reliably penetrate would be a boon to be sure, and its mobility is astounding. However, there is no place on the battlefield for wonder weapons. I have looked into your production estimates, and quite simply, the state cannot afford nine thousand Bits as a unit cost for the numbers that must be produced. Nor can a production time of sixty thousand mare hours be overlooked, or the need for specialist enchanters that we simply do not have in abundance domestically." Then she turned to Iron Girder and her bearing darkened further. "I loath to place my subjects at greater risk, especially for the sake of money, but in war there are cold calculations that must be made. Given the choice between four Timberwolves or one Twilight, my advisers agree that the former is a better investment, and given the trials today, I am forced to concur, may their crews forgive me. The Timberwolf might not be as fast or as well armoured, but it is not lacking in either and moreover, I am told that its endurance today was no fluke. Most importantly however, the Timberwolf is ready today. Congratulations, Mr. Girder. My agents will contact your company shortly to negotiate a production license to distribute to the crown's industrial interests, considering your factory's current workload." "Of course, ma'am." Said Iron Girder, though he didn't feel quite the thrill of success that he had imagined almost a year ago. It almost felt like winning by default. Nonetheless, he extended a hoof to the chief of the Twilight program. "It's been quite the race." Roe Bottom chuckled as hooked his pastern with her own. "To be honest, I'm just glad it's over. Toasts are on you?" Iron Girder laughed as well. "Naturally, Roe." Celestia gave a wan smile. "I am sorry to say that it is not for you just yet, Mrs. Bottom. I would like you to realise your project into a functional machine, because sooner or later we are going to kick those bugs onto the defensive, and I can think of no better than the greatest heroine of our day to lead the charge."