//------------------------------// // 11 // Story: The Inconveniencing Adventures of a Washout Kicker // by IC1s5 //------------------------------// “So, uh...” “Yes?” Velvet asked weakly. “When you thought of the Quest for the Lost Palace,” the stallion asked, smiling broadly, “you...based that on the real Compass Rose?” “In a way.” Velvet was getting confused at the questions she expected the least. “I took some liberties.” “Yeah. It seemed just too easy to find the Lost Alicorn Throne and the Treasure of Princess Platinum at the same time, but I know you were trying to keep things under control. Too many plot elements spoil the story, right?” “Indeed,” Velvet sighed, trying to imagine her fate in the Silver nation. She was behind Spray, located near the rear of a column that was approaching the West Desert Beam. The Silver ponies hadn’t been idle: the fence that had once ran across the top had been ripped out, a gap large enough to fit a dragon through had been made in the beam itself. Ponies were crawling over the beam, but only a disappointing fifty or so. The way Scorpio had carried on, Spray had expected the whole Silver nation would have stampeded through the breaches. They had spears, only a few carried crossbows. A good guard squad could take them. A good guard squad was not here. On the other side was a whole new world, one Velvet did not understand, one that filled her with fear. She chided herself for the curiosity that brought her here. Through the breach she saw only more desert, desert that would eventually terminate with towns and cities and farms full of unfriendly grey ponies. Spray was saying nothing, merely walking with a lowered gaze. Two ponies walked beside her and Spray. The one to her left was bubbly with energy, his spear loosely slung over his flank. “I understand. I mean, I understand that it wasn’t completely accurate to, like, history and all that, but wow! That book was amazing.” “Thank you.” Velvet said. The pony smiled and continued to gush. “I love all that stuff where she’s lost in the Everfree. The Timberwolves in particular kept me on edge! Man, the Everfree must be one messed up place!” “It’s best avoided.” The stallion laughed. “I’d really like to check it out. It must be quite something.” “Yes it is,” Velvet replied. Apparently her captivity was going to be like being trapped at a writer’s convention, where the fans kept you from leaving and the exits led to Tartarus. “I mean, you probably don’t know this, but...well, I’ve got all your books. They’re really crummy books, pretty much falling apart, but I’ve got them all.” “Corona,” Scorpio barked, “stop fraternizing with the captive.” “Sir I’m just...” “Stop it,” Scorpio repeated. Corona sulked. Velvet could have cheered with relief. Scorpio beckoned them over to a makeshift paddock. Several stumpy posts with the fence salvaged from the beam’s fencing. No prizes for guessing who goes in there. “Keep them here until we’re ready to move on,” Scorpio ordered. “Sir!” Scorpio’s eyes narrowed. “And we are not turning this into a literary conference, we clear?” “Yes...sir!” Scorpio walked off, shaking his head. He had stalked the beam for nearly a decade. The ponies he had to housebreak were a never ending source of bafflement and frustration for him. Spray kept quiet. He was thinking, when he believed he should have been plotting. If he was a true Kicker, maybe he would have even escaped by now or at least have some idea how to escape. I know everything there is to know about perspective, colour, drawing styles and artistic movements. In short, nothing I know of any possible use. And I’m going to have to learn fast. Going through that breach was not an option. He owed it to his family, to Coral, Uncle Thunder (yes, even Herald, the grump) to not go through that breach. He owed it to them to not put them through whatever it would take for him to come back, whenever that would be. Exactly how he would pull that off, well, that was the challenge. The Silver nation ponies appeared to be mostly ground based ponies preparing for combat with unicorns and Earth ponies. The crossbow users were searching for pegasus ponies, but there weren’t that many of them. It all depended on how fast the situation changed for that fact to be of possible use. A shape darted through the sky. Spray wondered what kind of bird it was, then paused in thought. Doesn't look like they get a lot of animals here. Maybe...if I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was a..... It settled at the top of the beam, landing quietly. It disappeared over the ridge. Spray squinted. It looked like it was enfilading itself, most unusual behaviour for an animal. So much like a guard, so much like... The realization hit him. Probably a scout or a vanguard, but either way things were not as dire as he feared. Not yet anyway. If things were not going to be hopeless, he would have to make it that way. He breathed in through his nose. Corona was looking bored and sullen, focused on something happening far away and in his head. He could chance speaking his thoughts aloud. Velvet’s head drooped. He tried to whistle as subtly as possible. It took her a moment to realize the direction it came from. Eventually it dawned on her it came from the pony to her right. “Pegasus,” Spray said through gritted teeth. Velvet looked shocked, first trying to meet Spray’s eyes but then snapped her head forwards. She remembered protagonists in similar situations; a lot would hinge on her being able to stay cool. She took a deep breath in through her nose. “Where?” she whispered. Velvet tried to scan the landscape with her eyes. Where among the shapes and the shadows was he? “Over on the left, somewhere near the beam. Distract the wordsmith here, and maybe we can arrange something.” Velvet nodded. She cleared her throat. “Corona,” she said, “maybe, to pass the time, you could share what you’ve written.” Corona dropped his spear. “Seriously?” “Yes dear,” Velvet said, finding each word painful to force through her teeth. “Why not? I’d be interested to read what you have.” “For real?” Corona asked. “Of course.” Corona was half laughing with his good fortune. Finally, the opportunity he had always been waiting for! Finally, he could show off his writing. It could only help him in the long run! “Be right back!” he shouted. Velvet glanced back pitifully at Spray. “Thanks for taking one for the team,” he said. “Remind me to write a character about you, and have him killed off. Slowly.” Now, there were still quite a few ponies who could complicate their escape. His wings were pinned to his side, and his hurt wing still ached. If he pushed himself, really pushed himself, ignored the pain, they could possibly maybe make it not too far, but there had better be ponies to receive them if he did. The Silver ponies, Spray had to admit, moved fast. There was only one pegasus out there. He could help, but only a little, and if Spray botched it, he would wind up next to him. He would have quite a lot to say in that case. Corona returned with a notebook and several crumpled sheets of paper. “Now,” Corona explained, “this is what I’ve got so far...” “Take your time dear,” Velvet said, weeping internally at the prospect of having to go through all of his writing. Spray took a deep breath. Somehow he had to get that pony’s attention. Their freedom was resting on it. On the eastern half of the breach there weren’t that many ponies around. A pegasus approach from that direction. would be best angle of attack. He gestured with his head in a manner that he hoped would be construed by the Silver ponies as stretching and by the pegasus as a signal. No reply, which did not mean that he was unacknowledged. The wait was frightening and painful. He waited a moment. Corona prattled on. Velvet feigned attention credibly. It did not look like the pegasus had departed yet. He gestured his head again. East, east, east. Figure out what I’m trying to say. It’s not like I can draw you a picture here. A sound echoed from the beam. A bird not commonly found in the San Paolomino, but it could easily be attributed to something else. No Silver pony looked back to check the source. That was good enough for Spray. It felt good enough to have made contact with a friendly pony right now. The shape rose, shook off sand and disappeared into the night. It was all in Uncle Thunder’s hooves now. # Propped between two pegasi, Mace tried to remain as still as he could, his head twisted almost to the point where it was resting on his cutie mark. His eyes practically rubbed against the image of a boot emblazoned on his flank. Thunder tried to peer in close. Their cover was a wispy cloud, the best they could cobble together with what they had. Trying to keep their cover plausible meant they had only a thin layer of cloud to work with. Sudden movements could break through the white membrane. Thunder grimaced as Mace shifted on top of him. “Keep still,” Thunder growled. He had a pair of binoculars, and was trying to focus on the breach. They were further away than he would have liked. A couple of torches had been lit by the Silver ponies, and Thunder was trying to prioritize which of the lumpy black shapes were the most important. There. A small circle of fence, and three indistinct shapes. Spray was hurt, but not bad enough to fly if he muscled through the pain. For the moment it looked like the pony guarding them was not paying full attention, the rest of the Silver nation ponies preoccupied. Not as many had moved into Equestria as Thunder had feared. The patrol and the guard was keeping them contained for now where they had crossed over, and this must have been the last serious, uncontested opening in the beam. There was a window of opportunity. A small one, closing fast. Mace dug his hoof into Thunder’s head. “Mace!” Thunder struggled to keep his voice down. On a still desert night it would carry. “Sorry.” Thunder grumbled to himself. This was all very ad hoc, but a guard must always be prepared to improvise. He had sent a pegasus over to scout around. So far, it looked like he had arrived. As soon as he appraised the situation and it was safe to do so, he would return to Thunder. Thunder needed to know how many ponies, and from what angles he could safely attack from. This was not a complete guard squad ready for combat. Speed and stealth would be their only advantages over the Silver ponies. Grab the hostages and flee. Let Shining Armour bring the guard up to stop them. Hopefully, all it would take would be one short, sharp raid to compel the Silver ponies to leave. That’s what rational opponents would do. Thunder could hear Olive’s unpleasant voice echoing in his ears: We play by the San Paolomino’s rules, not Equestria. Thunder imagined things could, and likely would, get quite messy. Mace was not moving, and Thunder was beginning to wish he would: his plot was just behind his head. If Mace did what Thunder feared he would do, it was a mighty long drop. “So...what now?” Pinion whispered from a cloud to Thunder’s left. “Wait.” Thunder hated saying it, but hating it didn’t make it any less true. “Wait until we can tell where and how to hit them best.” “All right,” Pinion said. “What are we up to?” “Get Spray, get Velvet, get gone. Let the guard handle the breach.” The pegasus scout had darted from behind cover. He was speeding over, high and fast and not detected by the ponies on the ground. “Well?” Thunder asked. “Made contact with Spray, sir?” “And?” Thunder asked. Contact was a limited thing, but it felt good to be in touch with his nephew again, however imprecisely. “Appears to be all right. Motioned that we should attack from their eastern flank. They look vulnerable there.” “Very good. Regroup with the others.” The pegasus darted over to a cloud. Thunder shifted slightly in place. He beckoned for two nearby ponies to get Mace off of his back. He stretched his wings. They would get quite tired tonight. Pinion swallowed. “Orders, sir?” “Be prepared to move,” Thunder said. “We’re going to have to move, and move fast.”