//------------------------------// // Space Monkeys // Story: Finding Serenity // by M1ghtypen //------------------------------// There were not many ponies among the upper crust of New Equestrian society that preferred to keep to themselves. It was considered strange for a pony to shut himself away in his big house and shun the glamour of high society in favor of a solitary existence. The select few that made this choice often became social outcasts, and their lavish homes were frequently the subject of much gossip among their more talkative peers. Guesses as to what went on behind closed doors were typical among aristocrats. They hinted at lascivious affairs, violent domestic problems, or even political dissent when speculating about the secrets of their fellow socialites. All manner of terrible rumors were started based on nothing more than what somepony had heard somepony else swear was the truth. Nopony, however, could have guessed the true nature of an unassuming stallion with a cream-colored coat and a blue mane. He had been called a deviant, a radical, a hermit, and on several occasions a very unpleasant pony. None of it was true, because the truth was too remarkable for anypony to guess. Sir Horte Cuisine had mastered a wide variety of skills in his life, but his favorite was cooking. His skills in the kitchen were legendary, and he had the cutie mark to prove it. He was currently putting those skills to use by making a smoothie. “These are very good for you,” the cultured earth pony explained as he looked over his ingredients. “Most ponies think of health food as being unappetizing, but it doesn’t have to be. Take kiwis, for example. They’re a good source of vitamin E, vitamin C, and potassium. Some ponies call them Chineighs Gooseberries, but I fail to see why. They don’t look much like berries, do they?” Horte dumped a small bowl of sliced kiwis into the blender on his kitchen counter. “Next, strawberries. They’re good for folate, potassium, fiber, vitamin C, and even manganese. After that we have bananas, which provide potassium and thiamin. They’ve got lots of vitamin B6 as well.” Strawberries and bananas went into the blender together. “Lastly, we’ve got oranges and fresh carrots. Oranges are good for folate and potassium. They also provide vitamin C, but everypony know that.” He frowned disapprovingly at the pile of carrots in front of him. “I grew these myself,” he said regretfully. “I’m not sure why. I like carrots, I suppose, but I don’t like the color. They give us niacin and vitamin B6, along with some vitamin A. They’d be the perfect vegetable if they weren't so…orange. They’re the same color as the oranges, and for some reason that bothers me. Is that strange?” A quiet whimper filled the kitchen as he dumped the remaining produce into the blender. A mare in torn tactical gear was pulling weakly at the zip ties binding her to a wooden chair. Her stomach had been burned open by a plasma pistol, and the smell of burnt flesh threatened to make her sick. “Please,” she begged, “Please, I… it hurts. Help me.” Horte leaned against the counter and coldly evaluated her injuries. “Why would I do that?” he asked. “You broke into my house and tried to kill me. Besides, plasma necrosis has already set in. Nopony can help you now.” The mare sobbed again and looked around for someone to rescue her, but the rest of her team was already dead. “Nine is a bit large for a tactical team, don’t you think?” Horte asked. “If you can’t do it with five then you probably can’t do it with nine.” The kitchen went quiet while the mare contemplated her bleak future. “You need to tell me who sent you,” Horte suggested. “I can kill you quickly, and without pain.” “I’m dead anyway, remember?” The mare spat blood onto the floor and groaned as the action jostled her bleeding midsection. “I got a reputation to think of.” Horte sighed tiredly and walked out from behind the kitchen counter. He knelt down next to his prisoner and pulled her wallet out of her pocket. “I can understand wanting to die with dignity,” he said. “However, you need to consider your friends. I mean your living ones, of course, not the ones you brought here to kill me. If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll have to go looking for them.” He held up an IdentCard. “You really shouldn’t bring personal documents into the field. I’m sure that you have family, or at least some living acquaintances. I don’t want to hurt them, but I will if you don’t tell me what I want to know. I can be very good at torture when I need to be.” “Alright!” she cried. “It was –” His communicator rang, interrupting her before she could finish. Horte Cuisine huffed in irritation and trotted back to the kitchen counter to answer. “I’m very sorry for putting our conversation on hold,” he apologized. “I have to take this. I’m sure that you understand.” He flipped open his communicator and held it to his ear. “What is it?” he asked. “I’m a bit busy at the moment.” The mare watched in disbelief as Horte Cuisine had what sounded like a perfectly casual conversation while she bled to death. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think… yes, it’s a private matter. Somepony tried to kill me in my own home. What? No, of course they didn’t succeed.” He looked at her and rolled his eyes. “Sir, if they had killed me then… yes, you understand. No, I’m mostly free, I just… it’s that important? Really? Very well, who did… oh, no. Sir, please don’t let him do that.” A voice on the other end of the line said something that sounded very angry. “It is hardly my fault that Blueblood is incompetent,” Horte Cuisine pointed out. “I understand, sir. I’ll find him as soon as possible and get someone else to go after the package. May I ask what it… no, I suppose you’re right. I am not paid to be curious. I believe that I know the former heads of security for this operation before the asset went missing. I’ll set up a meeting with them to… very well, sir.” Horte Cuisine snapped his communicator shut and tossed it back onto the counter. “I dislike bureaucrats,” he mused. “They never ask politely. What about you? Are your employers polite, or are they like mine?” The bleeding mare didn’t answer. Horte Cuisine ran over to check her pulse and let out a frustrated groan. ***** Horrible, selfish mare! Bon Bon thought as she ran a brush through her silky mane. How could a pony be so heartless? Pretty Vision never did anything to deserve being tortured, and Lyra would gladly let the Empire have her again if it made life a little easier. She doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s no better than the monsters responsible for this. No, she’s even worse than that. At least they had an excuse, however pathetic it may be. They were just following orders. Bon Bon knew that her temper was getting the better of her, but the anger felt too good to give up. As a Companion she was expected to maintain control over her emotions at all times, but surely here in the privacy of her own bedchamber she was allowed to have a few unkind thoughts. Unkind, perhaps, but not untrue. When innocent ponies need help as badly as Tick Tock and his sister, what kind of mare could turn them away? Bon Bon finished brushing her mane and applied a little moisturizer. It was expensive, but she didn’t skimp when it came to her appearance; her livelihood depended on her ability to look her best. I can support them for a while, but not forever. How will they find work? How will Tick Tock help Vision while on the run? Her eyes settled on a photograph taped to the side of her mirror. The whole crew, minus the newcomers, were gathered around the table and talking over dinner. I expected better from you, Lyra. You weren't like this when we first met. At this rate you’ll be a Reaver by Hearth’s Warming Eve. Bon Bon felt guilty for thinking something so horrible, but Lyra deserved it. The Captain wasn’t in danger of becoming a Reaver, of course. Most ponies didn’t even think that Reavers existed, and the few that knew the truth believed the condition was caused by more than just simple insanity. Somepony knocked at her door and derailed her train of thought. Bon Bon stood up and wrapped her robe around herself to ward off the chill. She kept her shuttle cool to make her bed seem cozier, but right now she was wishing she had turned up the heat just a little. Her hooves padded across the thick carpet and kicked aside a few stray pillows until she reached the hatch leading to the rest of Sereneighty. She pushed a button on the key pad next to the door and it slid open with a faint hiss. “Captain?” Bon Bon asked, wondering why in the world Lyra was visiting her at such a late hour. Night and day had no meaning aboard the ship, but the crew had fairly regular hours that it liked to keep. “I don’t want to speak with you. You should be ashamed of yourself. When we reach Beaumonde our arrangement will be terminated. Until then I ask only that you leave me alone.” Lyra seemed genuinely hurt, which was something that Bon Bon couldn’t remember seeing in almost two years of living aboard Sereneighty. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “You’re what?” Bon Bon stared at her dubiously. “If this is some kind of trick, it won't work. You won’t be able to persuade me to stay once Tick Tock and Vision are gone.” Lyra grabbed Bon Bon in a cloud of golden magic and pulled her off her feet. “We shouldn’t,” the Companion warned, already certain of her intentions. The Captain carried her into the shuttle and locked the door behind them. “We’re going to regret this,” Bon Bon breathed. Her protesting wasn’t as vocal as it should have been, and she made no attempt to push Lyra away. The unicorn gently kissed her cheek, then moved down to her neck. She slowly became more forceful until Bon Bon finally felt the need to stop her. “That’s…that’s a little too rough, Lyra.” The unicorn bit her shoulder once, then again hard enough to draw blood. “Stop! Lyra, that hurts!” The unicorn that reared back and glared at her was not the same pony that had carried her into the shuttle. Lyra’s teeth had been filed to points, her horn was sharpened, and her cheeks were cut to resemble a wider mouth. She had even branded a crescent moon into her forehead around her horn. The Reaver’s horrible smell filled her nose and made her gag. Septic wounds and bad breath made for a pervasive stench that she couldn't escape. The Reaver howled with mindless rage and plunged its teeth into her throat. Bon Bon woke screaming and clutching one of her many pillows. She was grateful that the rest of the ship couldn’t hear her. For a while she sat in bed and hugged her pillow, waiting for her heart to stop pounding in her chest. It was only a dream, she told herself. Everything is alright. Except it wasn’t. Bon Bon lay down and tried to go back to sleep, but she knew it was hopeless. Lyra was on her mind again, and her thoughts were too unsettled to allow her to relax. She resigned herself to a sleepless night and rolled out of bed. If she was going to be awake then she would rather not be alone. Bon Bon pulled on her robe and walked toward the bridge. Somepony was usually awake and at the helm, just in case something bad happened that needed fixing. Bon Bon heard a voice as she neared the bridge and sighed with relief, but paused when she realized that it belonged to Lyra. I can’t see her right now, she thought. I’ll say something horrible and regret it forever. She decided to go back to bed, even though she knew she wouldn’t be getting any sleep. Even being alone was preferable to being with Lyra right now. Another voice answered Lyra’s. Is that Tick Tock? Bon Bon wondered. She quietly crept closer to the bridge. It was certainly the doctor, but she wasn’t close enough to hear what he was saying. She had to keep inching closer until she was standing right outside the doorway, and by then Tick Tock was finished talking. “I need us to be clear on this,” Lyra said firmly. “You’re dangerous. You and your sister could bring down a world of trouble on me and mine. If I lose my crew or my ship, I’m out a home. You brought danger right to where I live.” “I understand.” “Good, because I sure as hay don’t want there to be any misconceptions here. I don’t see many reasons to help you. Hay, I don’t even like you. You’ve got too much of the Core worlds in you, and that makes most of us around here feel like you think you’re better than us.” Bon Bon covered her mouth so that nopony would notice her angry snort. Lyra, shame on you! she thought. At least be civil to the poor stallion before you feed him and his sister to the wolves, you wretched mare. Tick Tock struggled to clear his throat. He sounded very choked up. “I-I understand. I’m truly sorry for the trouble, Captain.” “I don’t care how sorry you are. You’d do it again if you had to.” Lyra sighed and a few notes from her lyre drifted out to Bon Bon’s hiding place. “Contrary to what some of the crew might think, I had family once. I got sent to a music academy for a while as a filly and I missed them somethin’ fierce. I know what it’s like to care for those close to you. Do we have an understanding?” “We’ll keep our heads down,” Tick Tock assured her. “We won’t make trouble.” Lyra’s tone became even harsher than before. “You understand how this works, right? You’re taking my pay now. That means you stay out of the way and do your job. There aren’t many of the expensive little comforts out here that you Core ponies are used to, and I don’t want to hear any complaining about that.” “Of course not,” Tick Tock said. “Thank you, Captain. I understand the risk you’re taking.” “I doubt that. Go look after your sister. She might try to eat Thunderlane’s weight set or something.” Bon Bon stood aside as the doctor trotted by her. She started to follow him, but Lyra called out to her before she could get away. Bon Bon reluctantly walked onto the bridge, feeling for all the world like a naughty filly about to get a lecture. “I don’t much care for ponies that sneak around and spy on others,” Lyra said. She was sitting upright in the captain’s chair, legs dangling over the end and lyre resting in her lap. On a whim Bon Bon tried to hop into the pilot’s chair and sit in the same pose, but slid right out of her seat. Lyra’s scowl disappeared as she tried unsuccessfully to hide her laughter. “Nice try. You know I only sit like this because my pelvis got shattered in the war, right?” “Really?” Bon Bon asked. “I got run over by a wagon. It’s no big deal. Couldn’t sleep?” Bon Bon turned toward the window so that she could watch the starts. Doing so also gave her a good excuse to avoid looking at Lyra. “I had nightmares,” she said. She suddenly wondered what she would say if Lyra asked what she had been dreaming about. “Nothing specific, you understand. I certainly don’t remember any of the details or who it was about.” “I had bad dreams too,” Lyra admitted. Bon Bon pretended to be listening intently, but inwardly her mind was racing. What if our nightmares are similar? Lyra might be more self-aware than I thought. Does she worry about becoming cold and heartless? Does she fear losing herself out here in the black as much as I fear watching her go? Bon Bon decided that it probably wasn’t a good idea to ask what Lyra was afraid of. The mint-green unicorn was obviously uncomfortable talking about it, so she shifted the conversation in a new direction. “I think it’s very sweet of you, taking in Tick Tock and his sister. I may have thought a few unkind things about you. I apologize.” Lyra shrugged and began playing her lyre in earnest. Bon Bon was surprised to hear the melody of a pop song coming from such a traditional instrument. “I’m not sweet. I’m a mean, grumpy old mare. I didn't do it for them, you know.” You aren’t fooling anypony, Bon Bon thought, but kept such sentiments to herself. “We just picked up a great medic for cheap, and they won’t be too much trouble if they stay hidden. Considering that our new mechanic actually knows her business, I’d say the quality of life around here is really going to improve.” “You offered that sweet mare a job with brigands?” “Yeah, but we’re lovable brigands. Hay, Thunderlane’s downright cuddly.” They both shared a laugh, which was a rare occurrence. “She wasn't happy with the kind of work that we do, but I promised not to do anything too bad. There’s plenty of honest illegal work that doesn't involve slaves or drugs. I wouldn’t touch any of that that go-se anyway; I’ve got my standards just like everypony else.” Bon Bon listened to the music and felt the knot of anxiety in her stomach slowly dissolve. She decided that she could finally get to sleep, knowing that the Captain wasn’t as lost as she feared. She even felt brave enough to ask a potentially dangerous question. “Can I ask what your dream was?” “There were monkeys,” Lyra said. Bon Bon swiveled around in her chair and stared at her. “We were hauling cargo for a zoo. Terrifying space monkeys got loose in the engine room. One of them ate my lyre.” False alarm, then. She’s just as oblivious as ever. Bon Bon rolled her eyes and left the bridge behind her, now certain that she would be able to get some rest. There was something oddly comforting in the knowledge that Lyra was as introspective as a bowl of celery soup. ***** Octavia and Vinyl took the news that they would be having new shipmates very well, having already grown to like both Derpy and the fugitive siblings. Thunderlane, however, was less than pleased. When Lyra broke the news that Tick Tock and Vision would be staying on Sereneighty, the brawny pegasus had loudly objected. He was so belligerent that Lyra sent him to his bunk with orders to remain there until he cooled off. Thunderlane’s bad mood was the only sour note in an otherwise pleasant trip. Between getting the newcomers settled and making lists of all the things that Derpy would need to fix up Sereneighty, Lyra had plenty to keep her busy. The ship arrived on Beaumonde in just over three days. Vinyl called Lyra to the bridge on the third day to watch the “sunrise”. Octavia was there as well and dutifully stood up from the captain’s chair. Lyra watched as the planet’s sun, Kalidasa, peeked out over the horizon and lit the world with a yellow glow. “Gotta love a good light show,” Vinyl said. “It’ll feel strange to be back home.” “Nopony is going anywhere unless they have to,” Lyra warned. “Don’t think this is a vacation just because you know the neighborhood. We’re here to sell some illegal cargo, not take in the nightlife.” Octavia closed her eyes for a moment and steadied herself. “Actually, we will both be leaving for a while. Vinyl and I have something very important to do.” Lyra eyed her reproachfully. “That end part there was missing a question mark.” “It was not,” Octavia admitted. “I am sorry, sir, but we really need to go. Vinyl has something very personal to take care of and I need to be with her.” Lyra was annoyed, but not really angry. She wished that Octavia had said something sooner, but trusted the slightly older mare’s judgment. “Fine, just make it quick. I don’t like being stuck in one place for too long.” She took one last look at the smoky grey orb of Beaumonde as it grew to fill the bridge’s window. “I need to find the others and dish out some orders. Octavia, tell everypony else to meet me in the galley and make sure to lock the ship down before you go on your errand.” “Yes, sir.” Lyra enjoyed a soda in the galley while the rest of her crew (and Bon Bon) congregated. “We’re about to land on Beaumonde,” she said when everypony was present. “It’s a mighty big world, so don’t stray too far. Thunderlane, you’re with me on this one. I’ve never dealt with our buyer before, so I don’t know how much I can trust him. Bon Bon, what are your plans?” Bon Bon giggled and flipped her mane flirtatiously. “If you want an evening with me, Captain, you are sadly out of luck. You know my policy on servicing crew.” Lyra snorted and sputtered as soda stung the inside of her nostrils. “That isn’t… I didn’t mean it like that!” She noticed Vinyl whispering to Octavia, who developed a sudden coughing fit. “Shut up!” Lyra ordered. She hoped she wasn’t blushing. Vinyl quickly left the table and galloped to the bridge before her mouth got her into trouble. “Derpy needs to look for parts and I need somepony to look after her. Can you handle that, or is it too much honest work for your delicate sensibilities?” “I can find time to take Derpy shopping,” Bon Bon agreed. “I made arrangements for tomorrow evening. There should be plenty of time to spend a little mare time together before then.” Thunderlane chuckled, but the rest of the crew wisely ignored him. “I assume that my sister and I are confined to the ship? Tick Tock asked. “You’d better believe it,” Lyra said. "We're way too close to Empire territory. Nopony can get even a look at you or Vision. Where is she, anyway?” Most of the crew began to look nervous; it was generally considered a bad practice to leave a crazy pony unsupervised on a spaceship. “I think I saw her with the Shepherd,” Derpy offered. “I like him. Is he going to be leaving now that we’ve arrived?” Lyra shrugged. “Most likely,” she said, and stood up from the table. “He won’t be interested in traveling with us now that he knows the kind of stuff we’re doing. Ticky, you’d better go find your sister before the preacher has her trying to bring religion to all the fuzzy-wuzzies or something.” “How’s our job lookin’?” Thunderlane asked. “Who are we dealing with, anyway? Is he the kind of pony we need to impress?” “No!” Lyra said quickly. “No impressing and no intimidation. Word is, he’s just a business pony. He wants a professional, not a showoff.” The ship lurched wildly and everypony grabbed the table to keep from falling over. Vinyl’s voice came over the intercom as another tremor rocked Sereneighty. She sounded like she was doing everything in her power to avoid screaming. “Hey, Captain! So uh, hypothetical question here: How mad would you be if something bad happened when we landed?” “That depends on how bad it is. Why do you ask?” “Oh, no reason. We’re fine.” Everypony grabbed the table again as Sereneighty shook. “We’re uh, totally. Fine, that is. We’re okay. Derpy, could you be a doll and get down to the engine room?” Thunderlane grinned. “Let’s hope he’s gullible.”