Calling the prose amateurish would be a compliment. The characters develop like a case of the pox. I don’t want to get started on the imagery, so basic and insulting, or the glacial pace of what he is trying to pull of as a plot.
“It’s great,” Velvet said. “Fascinating!”
Celestia, forgive me.
Corona beamed. “That’s so good to hear! And...and from you, of all ponies!”
Velvet smiled widely, trying hard not to roll her eyes. Spray was doing his best to feign interest, and hope that he could see the pegasus squad that would rescue them. Any second now, uncle....
It had all been a day since they left Fort Lancer. One long, painful day. It felt so much longer. Some dirty water had been provided to drink, no doubt salvaged from the ground, and dried moss to eat. It weighed heavily in the stomach. It reinforced the point that now they were owned.
“I can’t wait to do more, and get your input!”
“I look forwards to it,” Velvet lied.
“Corona!” Mesa strode up to the paddock. “Get...”
He noticed the large pile of paper held by Velvet. Several sheets were scattered at her hooves. Mesa stood still for a moment, cut to five and began to speak again.
“Get them moving. We’re going over the beam.”
“But I thought...”
“Guard is moving in,” Mesa said. “We’re getting the captives back across the beam, now. Move it.”
“Yes sir,” Corona said, his expression fading from his face. He began to scrape together all of his notebooks and papers.
“Leave it. You’ve got your spear. Get it.”
Corona looked like he was about to cry. He got his spear, pointing it at Spray and Velvet.
Spray and Velvet were beckoned out of the paddock. A couple of ponies were waiting for them. They surrounded Spray and Velvet. Several ponies, armed with crossbows, were falling back to their position. Scorpio was barking orders at ponies.
“On the beam! Keep your eyes sharp! They’ll be coming in fast!”
Tiny fires of hope were stoked deep within their hearts. Hopefully the guard could rescue them before they were taken across. The way the Silver ponies acted, it was a realistic possibility. But they better come fast.
Scorpio walked over to his captives. “Move,” he ordered Corona.
He studied Corona like he was an insect that he had crushed under his hoof. He shook his dead disgustedly and trudged off, ordering other ponies to move, fast, now. Corona saluted as Scorpio indifferently walked past.
“Not your biggest fan?” Spray asked. He’d seen that look before at West Hoof, of instructor ponies tired of seeing Kickers and eager to treat him hard.
“Yeah. Best deep desert penetration squad, and he really wants to keep up that reputation.”
“Really?” Spray asked, certain that Corona would not pick up on his tone. “Do go on.”
“Well,” Corona said, “it was different back the day. Back then, we could range into Equestria, grab somepony actually worth something. Guard ponies are good, but you need a lot of them if you really want to make an impact. Foals were difficult to get and to manage, but Canterlot bent over backwards to get them back.”
They said nothing. Corona took that as an invitation to keep talking.
“I’m here because my family pulled strings. I figured why not: good life experience, fodder for a novel, eh?”
He laughed. He led the parade, past the ponies who were falling in around them. Scorpio took the rearmost position. His eyes burned as hotly as the sun. His gaze alone could compell them up that sandbeam.
“I try my best. Dosen’t look like it’s going to be good enough, but it should make for good reading, right Mrs. Velvet?”
“Stunning.” Velvet barely got the words out. Things were not going out the way she had hoped they would.
“Well, with your help, I’m sure it will! I’m trying to think of a title: Grey Halo and the Great Desert: An Adventure! How about that?”
“Good enough,” Spray muttered. Corona began to elaborate on plot details, which sounded like they would drive the reader mad.
The party began to trudge towards the beam. It had not completely collapsed, but enough had eroded for a path to have been dug into it. Some of the fence had been cut up to be used as hoofholds while they walked. Clumsy and awkward footing, but it worked.
They came closer to the top of the beam. They could begin to see the stretch of desert beyond. Territory of the Silver nation. As featureless as the terrain under the flag of Equestria. Velvet fought back a sob. So far away from her family, and the ponies she dearly loved.
Spray just couldn’t think of anything else except one thought running through his mind: Well, in it deep now, right? Spray---the Kicker who had to be ransomed back. Certainly this would make any family reunions very difficult affairs, assuming his family permitted him to attend. Coral he would miss most of all. He cursed himself for putting her through all the pain that would result.
Hopefully the family would just swallow their pride and pay up, but with Velvet, there was no telling how high the price would be. No telling what Canterlot would have to cough up: more favourable water rights, or even land concessions? Spray could tell that the Silver ponies seemed to be beaming with thoughts of what they would bring.
And if they wound up with the griffons...well, don’t think of that now, he advised himself. Right now, don’t thrive just survive.
Almost near the top now....
“There!”
Several pegasus ponies were swooping in to attack. A couple of squwaks came from Silver ponies caught unawares. Crossbow bolts darted across the skies; they took down one pegasus pony.
“Defensive!” Scorpio roared. He kicked Spray hard in the flank. “Keep moving!”
Impossibly, Spray found his legs moving forwards despite his will to run, fast as he could, towards his uncle at the other guard ponies. His legs found the strength to pull his body almost all the way to the top of the beam.
#
Mace was gripping Thunder’s hooves as hard as possible. Hanging from Thunder’s front hooves was not what he had been expecting, but he was too large and heavy to be carried on his back. Thunder was taking up the rear position of the formation. Mace’s rear legs dangling uncomfortably, and they kept twitching as he expected them to find solid footing.
Pinion was no better. He hung limply, whimpering to himself.
“You remember your CQC?” Thunder asked. Hopefully something of their training had survived the long languishing in Fillydelphia.
“A little,” Pinion squeaked. Mace said nothing.
“You use your magic to stun them,” Thunder reminded them, “get their weapon.”
“Kill them?” Mace asked. He looked at Thunder, his eyes loose in their sockets. No time to wait for him to get his marbles together.
“Or tickle them. Go with what works.”
“Thanks boss!” Mace replied, goofy grin on his face.
They don’t all have to come back. Just enough.
The formation was coming in low, too late to pull away. Now or never, do or die. Thunder gritted his teeth. Now or never.
“Priority is the civilians!” Thunder barked. “Get them out of here!”
“Sir!” the pegasus ponies barked back.
“Grab them, go! Don’t stop and play! All right?”
“Sir!”
“Formation! Break!”
The formation scattered into several sub groups, each taking a particular angle of approach. Their wings beat hard; they bellowed esoteric war cries.
“Pinion, Mace! We’re dropping you hard, get the ponies with crossbows down first. Our success depends on that!”
“Sir,” they croaked back.
Thunder had been in many, many tense situations. None more important than this one. He wasn’t just saving his nephew or a civilian, but rescuing Equestria from a possible political nightmare. No pressure, Thunder.
They banked to the left. They came over a rise in the beam. Below them the Silver ponies looked up in surprise and confusion, exactly how Thunder wanted. A couple of pegasus swooped low, taking two stray ponies down. A maelstrom of wings and limbs followed.
“Crossbow, high on the beam!” a pony at the fore called.
The Silver pony took aim with his crossbow. Thunder was dead in his sights.
“Behind me!” Thunder ordered. He swooped in low, trying to dodge and weave to the best of his ability. Doing so with a pony suspended beneath him was not easy. A couple of bolts flew past. “I’ll take him down!”
Mace was being swung back and forth. He was beginning to dread what Thunder had in mind. “Sir...”
Thunder took aim. “Hang on,” he said calmly. “I have to concentrate.”
“Sir....”
“Just hold still, my little pony,” Thunder said, making one final swing of his legs.
Mace went flying forwards, screaming. He hit the Silver pony hard, knocking him off of his hooves. The two ponies tumbled backwards, rolling down the beam. Thunder took more satisfaction in that than he should have.
Now...show them the fury of a Kicker!
Thunder’s wings flared. Sharp wing sabres glistened in the sun. He swooped in to attack, aiming for a pony at the edge of the group. It felt like he flew right through him. A strangled scream, then nothing.
“Drop Pinion over there! Pinion, take him down!”
The pegasus swooped in before Pinion could scream a reply. Thunder looked his gaze on his target, who was hidden within a forest of spears.
It had been a long time since he had been in combat. His reflexes were still as sharp. Good to know. Now to get Spray back.
Thunder pointed himself towards the group, nearing the top of the beam. Almost over. A thick mob, spears and crossbows pointed every which way. His left wing twitched, attracting the attention of a couple of ponies, to provide assistance while he made the attack run.
Now or never, do or die.
Thunder smiled. He loved a good challenge.
#
The crossbow ponies took down one guard pony. The rest circled overhead, daunted by the rain of projectiles. Sharp spear points were ready to skewer any pony that got eager. Despite it all Spray and Velvet found themselves moving forwards, as if their will was no longer their own.
It was very strange. Velvet only knew battles in the broadest strokes. Around her ponies had died and were dying. Spray, at least, had some mental preparation for what rescue entailed. It looked like Uncle Thunder was claiming a few more victories for the family legacy. If it was all right with him, Spray would have preferred being anyplace else.
“Move!” Scorpio bellowed. “Move your plots!”
Spray and Velvet were now within a couple of strides of the top. Two Silver ponies were waiting for them, armed with crossbows. Beyond was the home stretch, the long expanse into the questionable safety of the Silver nation. The pegasus ponies were closing in.
Corona clutched his spear desperately. Clearly he had never expected to encounter the guard. The patrol maybe, the lazy, indifferent Long Patrol. Not the guard. Some of the Silver ponies, particularly the ones with spears, looked restless. They looked at Mesa and Scorpio with eagerness. The kind of eagerness only young colts had.
“Don’t stand there,” Mesa instructed. “We can’t afford to stay.”
They looked disappointed at the lost opportunity to prove themselves.
“No time!” Mesa yelled. “We have to make it across!”
“If we leave one...” a pony suggested.
“We take them both!” Scorpio yelled. He strode forward, meeting the pegasus in combat. A couple of swift swipes and he took the pegasus down. Two large blows against the pegasus’ helmet, followed by a mighty crack. The pegasus yelped, falling to his knees.
“Uncle?” Spray called.
Thunder looked up at his nephew. Scorpio was between Spray and him. Velvet looked terrified; Spray was locked in place. Thunder got up on his hooves, running towards Scorpio, blades extended, who darted to one side. He kicked Thunder in the chest. Thunder tumbled onto the ground.
“Spray,” Thunder choked. “Spray.”
Thunder looked up at his nephew with wide eyes. Scorpio kicked him in the face. Thunder fell to the ground. Spray’s heart stopped, but he was nudged forwards. He stepped over Thunder, who was moaning softly as he disappeared into unconsciousness.
“Kicker?” Scorpio asked.
Spray said nothing. He had to force his gaze away from the sprawled body of his uncle.
“Clearly, they don’t make them like they used to,” Scorpio laughed.
Two more pegasus ponies landed behind them, struggling on their hooves to pursue. Two Silver ponies stood ready to joust with them; and above them were the rest of the formation, circling. Drawing closer. No time to fight with them all.
“Get. Them. Over.”
Spray and Velvet were uncertain on their hooves. Their legs sank into the sand, almost maddeningly slow. No matter what they were called, no matter what threats were made they could not be goaded into moving faster.
The pegasus ponies were getting closer. There simply were not enough Silver ponies to make a pitched defence. If they did they would be overwhelmed.
“Sir!” Mesa yelled. “You must choose!”
Scorpio made a quick study of his captives, and made his choice. “You,” he called to Spray, darting over.
Spray was bucked hard in the face. Velvet cried his name, but he was already tumbling down the beam. He didn’t see the rest of the ponies disappear over the beam. The world just went dark.