Chapter 14
With Caballus leading the way, the team returned to the fork in the tunnel. After only a few minutes going the other way, it appeared that Caballus’s guess was right: several other holes branched out in the direction of the cavern.
“I hope we get out of here soon,” Hairtrigger grumbled under his breath. “I don’t know if I’ve ever gone this long without the sky over my head.”
“Or nice soft, dirt under my hooves,” Roughshod agreed.
“Not until we find out why Sniffles would be willing to ally with the Grabbers.” Caballus said. “Even a traitor and a heretic should know better than to make deals with such disgusting animals.”
Grabber howls echoed from somewhere up ahead. The hairs on each ponies’ neck stood on end.
“Sounds like they saw the letter pass by,” Caballus concluded. “It won’t take them long to track it back here.”
“Then let’s not be here when they show up,” Roughshod suggested. It met with unanimous agreement.
The tunnel curved gradually to the right, then downward, before intersecting with a much wider passage. The Inquisipony held up a hoof, signaling the others to halt. Voices emerged from up ahead, and the ponies darted across the hallway into a small annex cut out of the stone. Everypony crouched down, pressed against the wall, and covered themselves with whatever cloak or coat they had with them. Mystic hastily wove an illusion that gave the coverings a texture identical to the stone behind them.
The sound of paws on stone filled the cave as a half-dozen or so Grabbers raced by the hidden ponies. They all held their breath; even Mystic, who struggled to maintain the disguise. The illusion was a spell she had always found difficult, and holding it steady four times over—even for just a few seconds—was taxing her to her limit.
As soon as the noises—or rather lack of them—indicated that the last Grabber had gone, the ponies’ coverings returned to their normal appearance. Mystic splayed out on the ground, gasping for air.
“They were probably following the smell of the letter’s ashes,” Caballus whispered. “They’ll turn around when they pick up our scent in a minute or so.”
“Look,” Roughshod said, pointing to the middle of the floor. There sat a small puddle of mucus. A few paces further down there was another, and many more lay further along the path. “I’d say we’ve picked up Sniffles’ trail.”
They followed the repulsive breadcrumbs at a brisk but cautious pace. Mystic and Hairtrigger were now both walking on their own, albeit still with difficulty. Even so, they couldn’t afford to make much noise with reckless galloping; the Grabbers didn’t appear very bright, but that didn’t mean they were deaf.
Up ahead, the exit tunnel ran into another large space. As they approached, it became apparent that this wasn’t just another cave. Rather than the shape of a natural formation, or even the rough edges of a Deep-Grabber burrow, this grotto was a relatively cleanly excavated, rectangular room.
If anything, it looked like an aerodrome hangar. This might have been due to the docking scaffolds, the loading equipment, floodlights, generators and the hoses for refueling that lay on the ground. Or it might have been the giant retractable doors that made up the ceiling, with open air likely just on the other side. But it was mostly the fact that there was currently an airship docked in it.
The ship itself was probably a hundred meters long, about twice the length of Her Solar Majesty, and maybe three times as wide. Having two cylindrical balloons arranged side by side, it looked like a civilian heavy cargo lifter, though still quite small compared to some of the bulk landers employed by the Admanestratum or Adequus Mequestricus. The balloons and the superstructure that hung between them, however, were not typical of the boxy, utilitarian design most transports favored. The elegant craft was more reminiscent of a luxury air-yacht, with gleaming chrome trimming its ivory-white paintjob. Glücksritter was stenciled in gold across the slanted prow.
And at the far end, leisurely strolling up its extended loading ramp, was Sniffles.
Caballus had noticed the traitor so quickly, that he had neglected the rest of his surroundings. As he bolted out of the tunnel and into the hangar, the mistake nearly got him killed.
Directly above his head, he heard the roar of a revving engine. Before he could even look up, Roughshod bucked the Inquisipony forward, sending him sprawling.
The claw he had previously seen at a distance came smashing into the ground where he had just been standing. Even though it missed, the impact had enough force to throw Roughshod back into the others, all of them tumbling into a pile. Caballus rolled back upright, and saw the red Pony Marine with his robotic fist buried in the stone floor.
“Spread out!” Caballus yelled. The other three ponies disentangled themselves, and put some distance between themselves and the warrior.
If the Equestrians had thought that having his arm elbow-deep in solid rock would slow the Marine down, they were sadly mistaken. He yanked it out as though he was pulling up a carrot, tearing a massive chunk of the floor away with it. With a flex of his claw, the chunk crumbled and fell away.
Seeing his quarry start to take cover amongst the hangar equipment, the giant gave an earsplitting war cry and charged at the closest one, the pegasus. It was made all the more terrifying by the unnatural distortion of his helmet’s vox-amplifiers, giving it a hollow, artificial screech. The ground trembled with every thunderous gallop. A less hardened pony might have panicked at the sound.
Instead, Hairtrigger loosed two cupcakes from his slingshot. To his dismay, they merely glanced off the power armor, completely unnoticed, and at the last moment, he had to dive from behind his cover, which happened to be a loading crane. The Marine slammed into it at full speed, demolishing several of its support beams. Groaning metal and snapping cables heralded the structure’s collapse, and the crane began to lean in the Arbitrotter’s direction. Hairtrigger scrambled again to avoid being crushed, but he wasn’t fast enough.
“Hold on!” Mystic called out. She braced herself, gripped him with her magic, and wrenched her head to the side. The pegasus was thrown from the path of the crane the instant before it landed. He sailed through the air, and crashed upside down into a crate beside the unicorn.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, cringing a little as Hairtrigger dug himself out of a pile of splintered planks and aircraft parts.
“Not a problem… little missy,” he groaned. The landing certainly hadn’t made his wing feel any better, but given the alternative, he wasn’t about to complain. “I’m losing track of the times you’ve saved my sorry hide today. I reckon I’ll have something to cry about the day I don’t have your pretty little self to back me up.”
“This is… three,” she replied with a blush. “I think. For a while there, we were even.”
Before either could double-check the figures, they heard another furious bellow. Tons of twisted scrap shook violently as the Pony Marine kicked himself free of them.
“Keep him busy,” Caballus said. “I need to get on that airship.”
Roughshod shot him an incredulous look. “Are you loco in the coco? You can’t go in there alone. And even if you stay and help, this guy is still going to beat us all to a pulp. What we need to do is get the buck out of Dodge!”
Caballus looked up at the ship, whose loading ramp was already lifting up, and back at the Marine, who was throwing off the last of the debris. He hated to admit it, but it was starting to look like a lost cause. Unfortunately, they didn’t have much in the way of escape routes at the moment either.
The red monster charged again. Mystic cast a spell on the various chains, hoses and cables on the ground. They sprang to life, and like writhing snakes, they ensnared the armored juggernaut. The first few failed to hold him, but as more and more coiled around his limbs, he slowed to a halt. He thrashed against them, growing more infuriated with every passing moment.
Using the opening Caballus scanned the room. He spotted a flight of stairs on the far end of the hangar, a possible exit. “Move!” he said, running toward it.
But as the ponies broke for the stairs, there were several snapping sounds in quick succession. Caballus turned back and saw Mystic limping, falling behind just as the Marine tore free.
In a flash, the unicorn was lifted off her hooves into the air. She felt cold, metal pincers close around her neck and found herself face to face with the traitor’s brass helmet. The others stopped in their tracks, horrified.
For a moment, the inscrutable skull simply stared at her. Though he panted with rage, he otherwise didn’t move a muscle.
“Put her down!” shouted Roughshod. He barreled headlong into the Pony Marine, unconcerned for his own safety. Without even really looking, the beast swatted him away with a blow that threw the stallion back several meters into a crumpled heap.
Mystic gaped in dismay at her friend’s unconscious body. The pincers around her neck tightened. If striking Roughshod senseless had been so easy, it would have been a trifle for the Marine to shear the head from her shoulders. This is it, she thought, this is the end. She closed her eyes and braced herself, hoping that it wouldn’t hurt.
But somewhere amidst the sea of panic and powerlessness, Mystic heard another voice. This is no way to die, it said. Your friends are counting on you. This is the time to fight.
Fear blossomed into anger. The voice was right, she thought. Her hair began blowing in a breeze that wasn’t really there, and her eyes started to glow. “He said,” she growled with a supernatural echo, “put. Me. DOWN!”
The traitor’s entire arm started to sparkle. The engine in the shoulder chugged louder, belching thick, black smoke. Hydraulic pistons hissed. The pincer-blades began trembling with the opposing forces exerting on them.
Seconds seemed to stretch into hours as the two struggled for Mystic’s life. Sweat beaded on the unicorn’s face. But to her surprise, the Pony Marine started to chuckle. It was a sadistic laugh, twisted by his armor’s amplifiers into deep, cruel mockery. The same kind the Deep-Grabbers had enjoyed as they had taunted Mystic, and it only made her angrier.
“Stop it!” she screamed. “Stop laughing at me!”
The claw creaked open the slightest bit.
And suddenly, the heretic did stop. For a moment, Mystic dared to hope that she’d actually frightened him. But instead he cocked his head toward the ship, as though listening to something. When he looked back down, he gave a disappointed grunt. Almost casually, the Marine wound back and pitched Mystic like a baseball towards her friends.
The hangar roused to life. Huge gears in the ceiling began to turn, and the massive doors above them cracked slowly open. As the crack widened, it became apparent that the desert above ground was in the midst of a sandstorm. Howling, gale-force winds gusted down on the ponies, sand stinging their eyes and throats. Adding to the whirlwind were the propellers of the airship, accelerating to launch speed.
Mystic brought herself to a halt in midair. Crackling with magic and rage, and ignoring the maelstrom all around her, she narrowed her gaze on the Marine and floated back toward him. Passing by a generator the size of a carriage, she picked it up and lobbed it at the red-clad warrior.
He didn’t even bother to dodge the incoming machinery. A shining blue light enveloped the Marine, and with a crack of thunder, he vanished. The generator passed right through empty space, plunging into a stack of shipping containers.
“Mystic!” yelled a familiar voice behind her. Caballus struggled through the wind toward her. “Come on! We’ve got to get out of here!”
With the object of her frustrations gone, and Caballus’s shouting bringing her back to her senses, Mystic’s anger bled away. As she watched the airship disappear into the storm, her hooves once again settled back to the floor. Immediately, she too was assaulted by the sandstorm, forcing her to clutch her cloak tightly over her muzzle.
It was a struggle for Caballus and Mystic to link up with the others. The blowing sand was so thick, even with the ceiling open, it was impossible to tell whether it was day or night, and their luminators could only reach a few paces ahead of them. They eventually found their way back to where Hairtrigger was tending to Roughshod, who was recovering on the ground.
The few moments’ respite, if it could be called that, ended with the first glimpse of hazy shapes skulking just out of view. Roughshod was the first to see them, staggering to his hooves in alarm. The others immediately snapped to alertness and took defensive positions, back to back with one another.
The shapes surrounded the ponies on all sides, inching closer with every passing moment. Caballus shined his light into the storm and dozens of pairs of yellow eyes reflected back at him. The Deep-Grabbers had caught up with them.
The standoff seemed to stretch into an eternity, neither side making a move. Try as he might, Caballus didn’t see a way out of this one. Even if they could break out, he couldn’t tell which direction the exit was anymore, and he didn’t even know if it led to anywhere safer.
Through the wind, Caballus heard Mystic shouting something. “… be my shield, O Princess, and I shall be Thy holy sword,” she chanted.
It was the Litany of Deliverance, Caballus realized. A prayer learned by all Equestrian servants, said when the situation seemed bleak and hope was fading. Very fitting.
“Though the Darkness may descend,” he answered, “and the weak of heart forsake You, no evil can overcome they who stand firm in their faith.”
By then, Roughshod and Hairtrigger had recognized it as well, adding their voices to the defiant litany. “For even in the depths of night,” the four shouted in unison, “I am clad in the armor of Thy favor, until You overturn the heavens themselves once again in victorious day!”
And as far as anyone watching was concerned, the Princess did just that. A blinding ray of light pierced through the storm, down into the hangar. Everyone, pony and Grabber alike, looked up in awe at the brilliant beacon, completely forgetting each other.
The light steadily grew brighter and brighter, and it soon became clear that whatever it was attached to was descending at high speed toward them. Some of the Grabbers tried to run, but by the time the bottom of another airship appeared through the sand, it was too late for the ones caught in its path. They disappeared in a deafening crash as the craft executed what could charitably be described as a landing. The rest scattered.
The four ponies could only stare in astonishment at the side of the airship as it came to a rest, missing them by only a few meters. A side hatch opened right in front of them, and they were met by a Meq-priest who looked almost as surprised as they were.
“Oh, there you are,” said Fyzzix. “That didn’t take long at all.”
Still the team said nothing, as if unsure their friend was really right in front of them.
“Well don’t just stand there,” he said. “Get in! I’m getting sand in my servos! I told you how irritating that is!”
The complaints broke them out of their stupor, and they clambered onto Her Solar Majesty, eager to get out of the wind.
“Who is this?” Fyzzix asked when Hairtrigger climbed aboard. It was more out of curiosity than hostility, as he started poking intently at the pegasus’s augmetic eye with a mechadendrite before the question was even answered.
“It’s a long story,” replied Caballus. “Don’t worry about him right now. Focus on getting us airborne and we can fill you in later.”
Returning to the cockpit, Fyzzix revved the propellers back up to launch speed, and the Majesty lifted once again into the sky. For a few tense minutes, the ship was buffeted by the storm’s turbulence, forcing everypony in the crew compartment to strap into whatever they could reach. As his stomach did a greater variety of acrobatics than usual, Caballus wondered if being on the ground with the Grabbers had really been so bad.
But it wasn’t long before the shaking stopped, and they could all breathe easy again. Caballus unbuckled himself, took an extra second to be sure of his footing, and walked up to the cockpit. “Thank Celestia you showed up when you did, Fyz. If you hadn’t gotten that letter, we might have never made it out of there.” He sat in the co-pilot seat, removed his capotain, ran a hoof through his black mane, and sighed with relief.
“I didn’t get any letter,” the Meq-priest said, raising his organic eyebrow. “I got bored sitting in the ship all night, so I started cross-modeling meteorological and seismographic phenomena in the area, and I found some interesting but quite anomalous data in one specific place, so I-“
“Wait,” said the Inquispony, “What do you mean you didn’t get my letter? I used an emergency seal. It should have come straight to you.”
Fyzzix shrugged, and pointed out the cockpit window. “Maybe they got it.”
Below, the dusty-brown clouds of the sandstorm blanketed the land all the way to the horizon. To the east, the morning sun was rising into a red sky, as though cutting a bloody, ominous swathe.
But Caballus followed Fyzzix’ hoof even higher. Several splotches of color hung in the air above, made tiny by their distance, but the Inquisipony recognized them all the same.
The Equestrian Navy had arrived.