I cast nervous glances at the pair of motorboats escorting the ship – both of them had mounted machine guns, along with a couple of grim-looking stallions, clad in brown uniforms. The bright rays of the sun made the sea hard to watch, and soon, I had to turn my eyes away from the sight and step back. My stomach twisted in protest, almost making me lean on the side rail again. The medicine for seasickness seemed to be helping, but only barely.
Backing away from the rail, I fluttered my wings to cool myself off. Days at these latitudes were hot – really hot – and I’d have to get used to that in short order. At least the green marbles near the horizon offered some comfort; however hot the weather was, the lush jungles and beautiful palm gardens of Neighcaragua would be there, unmoved by the terrible heat wave.
“Miss Scootaloo!”
I turned around and saw Coal Fire, one of the more prominent servants on the cruise, approaching me. He was a quite unremarkable stallion with whom I’d talked a couple of times. Behind him rose the tall pipes of the ship, thick, dark smoke billowing up from them.
“Well?”
Coal Fire gave me a polite smile. “I take it Miss Scootaloo has some free time in the evening? The captain would like to have her for company during the evening dan –“
“Oh, please, Coal, don’t talk to me like that,” I said, annoyed by the stallion’s behavior. “You don’t need to call me ‘Miss’. And if once again hear you talking to me like I wasn’t there, then, I swear by Celestia’s name, I will throw up. Not that I wouldn’t do that in any case…”
Coal grinned, but I saw sweat running down his forehead. “Uhm… right… Scootaloo. But like I said, the captain wants to talk to you during the dances. Well, he wants you to sit at the same table with him, at least. You see, there will be numerous important ponies like Midnight Star, Filthy Rich, Black –“
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I interrupted again, dismissing the hoof that Coal raised in protest. “I don’t care who’ll be there. This close to the championships, I just can’t slip from my training schedule. Sorry.”
“Eh…” Coal gave me a look of disbelief. “How can one practice racing on a ship? I know there are some cars down there, but they are tightly guarded and everything. And if you somehow managed to get a hold of your racing car, I have no idea how you’d do any… practicing with it. Without tearing the ship apart, I mean.” Coal raised an eyebrow. “With all due respect, Miss Scootaloo.”
I sighed. “You can’t be that stupid, Coal. I won’t be needing a car for push-ups and my other physical training. Do you think an unfit pony could drive a car two hundred miles per hour?”
“Of course not.”
“Good. Now that we have an understanding –“
“But the captain insists, Scootaloo,” told Coal with an irritated voice, rolling his eyes. “Just be there. You know very well that the captain is associated with the government, and can revoke your championships license at any time. I’m sorry if it comes to that, but… just please don’t shoot the messenger, alright?”
“Uh…” I bit my lip, staring at Coal. What’s gotten into you? He’s not a bad stallion. “I’m sorry for being rude.”
Coal shrugged. “Sure. Apology accepted.” With that, he walked away, vanishing into the small crowds of talking ponies. Most of them had all kinds of fancy dresses and jewelry on them – taking the temperature into account, I considered wearing any clothes at all pretty ridiculous, but I wouldn’t be one to complain. Shaking my head at the “glamorous” ponies, I made my way through them, evoking some classy gasps. With no reason to apologize, I walked inside the ship through a carefully decorated double-door in the otherwise white wall. All of the decorations and the fancy sofas lining the walls of the entrance hall failed to fascinate me – I’d seen them many times before.
**
I poured a couple of green pills in my hoof, threw them into my mouth, and swallowed hard. The feeling of the pills pushing down my throat was unpleasant, but I couldn’t risk losing the contents of my stomach in front of the captain, let alone all the other eye-catching ponies who’d doubtlessly sit at the same table. Thankfully, my face looked at least decent in the bathroom mirror. Why did I put that make-up on? A racer needs none of that.
Just in case... just in case. This is a pretty fine cruise, after all.
A knock on my luxurious cabin’s door made me jump. I trod out of the bathroom, trying to keep myself calm. Of course I’d already been in my share of high-class parties, but I still managed to feel like a stranger at times. I opened the door and saw a blue mare wearing a servant’s dress. “Frau Scootaloo?” she asked politely with a Germaneigh accent, bowing the tiniest bit.
“Yeah, it’s me. I assume you’re here to lead me to the ballroom?”
The mare nodded. “Ah, yes, Frau. If you’d allow me to show the way, I’d be glad. Your fame runs before you.”
I felt taken by the mare’s recognition, but my smile faltered when I realized that she’d likely just been informed of my status and had been ordered to speak it out. “Sure, Miss…”
“Suppe.” The mare gave me a grin that looked so earnest that I cracked one myself. Apparently, this one was one of the true fans instead of a mindless boot-licker. “Now, if you’d allow me to…?”
“Yeah, yeah, get on with it.”
Suppe led me through the freshly painted, exotically decorated hallways, blabbering about my accomplishments. At times, I couldn’t help but blush – even though I was used to compliments, it felt strange to be adored like that. Now you know what Rainbow Dash must have felt like… though she probably enjoyed all of it.
Eventually, we arrived at the ballroom. It was even more decorated than the entrance, which was saying a lot. Silvery candelabras hung from the ceiling, casting a soft light from their electrical lamps. Ponies in fancy dresses and tuxedos were sitting by large tables covered by the finest of laces, and even the chairs had ornaments. In the back of the huge room was a stage, currently hidden by red curtains.
“Frau Scootaloo? The table’s this way,” said Suppe, pointing at a round table near the stage. Some ponies were already sitting around it. Even from this far, I could recognize the captain, a brown earth pony famous for his massive moustache. His cutie mark, two swords crossed over a compass, was somewhat unnerving, and his exotic name, Richtig Kurs, didn’t help with that. “Would you allow me to…?”
“Nah. I can walk there by myself. Thanks for the offer, though.” Suppe nodded and walked into the crowd. Why can’t there be more servants like her?
As I made my way to the table, my mouth fell agape. Sitting next to the captain was a dark green, brown-maned pegasus with a checkered flag for his cutie mark – in seconds, I recognized him as Piers Vite, my long-time rival. He grinned menacingly as I sat down on the other side. “Well, well, if it isn’t Scootaloo. Do you really think you have a chance?”
I cast an angry frown at Piers, trying to contain my anger at least somewhat to avoid upsetting the others. “Piers. I should’ve known you’d be here for the race. You know full well that I’m faster than you. No question about it.”
“Sure, you are.” Piers shrugged. “If you crash your most humble competitors out of the race, you’ll undoubtedly be the first to cross the finish line.”
“It was an accident!”
The captain rose up from his seat, raising his hoof in the air. “Aber meine Fraue! I remember very well what happened – or what probably didn’t. Zee rain was so hard zhat I could barely see zee next row of zee stand. In such conditions, anything could happen.”
Both Piers and I turned our gazes at Richtig, who simply smiled in response. “You were there?” I finally muttered out. “At last year’s Le Trod twenty-four hour drive?”
“Zhat is true. Nur, if meine Frauen could please leave their arguments for another time, I would be most pleased. We have some time to chat and dine before zee main event begins. There’ll be music and tantz, hopefully in good order.” Richtig smirked. “And I promise zhat zee weather will be much better here in Neighcaragua than in Prance. Or in Equestria, for zhat matter.”
Piers’s and my argument descended into mortifying looks and snide remarks at each other, but were we not surrounded by all kinds of important ponies, we’d likely have been in a hoof-fight after minutes. Our rivalry had deep roots, but our crash while struggling for the victory of last year’s Le Trod had truly ignited it. I knew he’d been the cause of it, but as nopony else besides us had clearly seen what had happened, I had no means to prove it. When we had entered a tight corner side-by-side, I’d simply lost control of my car on the wet track, and crashed into Piers, who’d been trying to overtake me from the outside like a madpony. There was nothing else to it.
Time passed slowly as I was forced to introduce myself to a plethora of ponies. After boring myself to death by talking about the weather with a bunch of Canterlotian aristocrats, Filthy Rich poked my shoulder, giving a knowing look. “Bored?”
“You bet your flank I am.” I kept taking annoyed glances at all the fancy ponies. “What brings you here, Filthy? Some good deals?” I’d known Filthy Rich for a while, and he’d finally, just a few months ago, told that he was comfortable with me calling him Filthy. It was his first name, after all.
Filthy nodded. “Yup. With all… that… stuff going on in Neighcaragua, I’m looking to close some big deals with the government. You must have noticed the motorboats escorting this ship – they’re all made by Rich Industries.”
“Profiting of other ponies’ misery? Nothing new, I guess. And no offense.”
“None taken,” replied Filthy, smirking. “You’ve gotta be there when the time is right. Misery is surprisingly profitable, and seeing how things are going in Equestria, my businesses really need that… misery.”
“You know, Filthy, you sound like you’ve lost even the tiny bits of morality you used to have,” I said, only half-joking. “Is Diamond still mad at you?”
Filthy frowned, biting his lip. “Ehm… let’s not talk about that, Scootaloo. It’s been some time since I last saw her.”
I shrugged. “Whatever.”
Uncomfortable about me bringing up Diamond, Filthy turned his attention back to the other ponies, leaving me, once again, alone with my thoughts. I was constantly asked questions about the upcoming race and my stay in Neighcaragua, but I answered them bluntly. The captain had insisted on me being here with all the other famous ponies, but if he wanted me to enjoy myself, he’d be disappointed.
The food arrived just in time to prevent me from grunting out something I would’ve regretted. A servant levitated a silver platter full of all kinds of exotic fruits in front of me, making me gasp. Finally. It didn’t take long for me to fill myself, even with the awkward fork. Never had I understood why the high-class ponies couldn’t just eat with their muzzles like normal ponies, and partaking in their weird manners always made me feel a pang in my chest. However, it had already become such a habit that, even when I ate alone, I sometimes used cutlery.
Richtig rose up, ringing his glass with a spoon. Everypony fell silent in an instant, turning their heads toward him. “Nur zhat we’re getting started, let us hear some music! Ladies and gentlecolts, allow me to introduce zee pride of Equestria and Neighcaragua, zee pearl of Meerperl, Sweetie Belle!”
What?
My mouth hung open as the curtains were drawn to the sides by a couple of servants, revealing Sweetie Belle in front of several other mares, who all held instruments in their hooves. Sweetie kneeled, and then took the microphone in her hooves, starting a song right away. It had been two years since I’d heard her amazing voice from this close, and it certainly hadn’t grown old. As the band joined her, I was left staring at her small, graceful moves on the stage. The lyrics were some typical musings about Canterlotian cafés, and thus, I didn’t pay much attention to them, focusing on Sweetie’s soft and clear voice instead.
Eventually, Sweetie’s eyes met mine, her voice missing a note only to find it again a second later. I smiled to Sweetie, and she smiled back. It had been a while, and I knew that we’d have time to catch up with each other after the show. Of course, with both of us being celebrities, we usually knew where the other was, but I hadn’t expected Sweetie to be here, on this ship. Well, you should have. She’s lived in Meerperl for a while, after all, and must sometimes return home. First Piers, now Sweetie. Who next, Rainbow Dash?
The song switched to another, slower one, and the first ponies rose from their seats and walked to the small dance floor in front of the stage. I stayed in my place. Dancing, especially with ponies I barely knew, wasn’t my piece of cake. Every now and then, I cast glances at Sweetie, who sometimes returned them, giving me a wink each time. I felt fuzzy inside. At least one friend would be there to cheer for me during the races, unless Sweetie had some concert booked at the same time, what I doubted. It would be a wonder if Filthy’s schedule wasn’t full of business lunches, so I certainly couldn’t count on him being there, even if he cared how much the sponsor logos on my car were visible.
A glass of champagne was delivered to me, and I happily accepted it. With most of the ponies already on the dance floor, I could enjoy the drink by myself, savoring its peculiar taste and the swinging voice of Sweetie. As I sat idly, I noticed a unicorn wearing a tuxedo approach Richtig. He put his mouth next to his head, and I saw the stallion’s lips moving. Richtig gave him a worried look, and then whispered something back. They traded a few more silent words before Richtig rose up and followed the unicorn through a wooden door in the back of the room.
I pondered what was going on, but couldn’t think of anything. It wasn’t possible that the ship would be assaulted by some ragtag rebels, after all... with all those escorts, something like that would simply be impossible. Filthy poked me again, pointing at the door with his other hoof. “Did you see that, Scootaloo? Something must be going on.”
“Yeah, sure did. And I figured out that much.” I glanced at the door Richtig had gone through. “I wonder what’s –“
The unicorn in the tuxedo walked onto the stage from its back, and whispered something into Sweetie’s ear. She immediately stopped singing, a puzzled look on her face. Ponies on the dance floor traded nervous looks when Richtig walked onto the stage. He took the microphone in his hooves, taking measuring looks at the crowd. “Ladies and gentlecolts, I’m most sorry for zhis interruption,” he started with a dead-serious voice. “We have ein problem. I must ask you to stand in place while my trusted men investigate you. If you have not partaken in any… gefährlich activity, you have nothing to fear of. Zhis is simply an investigation, for your own safety, and zee safety of zee Neighcaraguan State.”
Several shouts of protest rang out, but Richtig didn’t so much as flinch. “I’m afraid we have smugglers on-board.”
A couple of tuxedo-clad unicorns, much like the one accompanying Richtig, walked in from the double doors of the entrance. They made their way to the crowd and started rummaging through the dresses of ponies, eliciting surprised gasps. Everypony stood in place, waiting for their turn. Any protest was met with force, and soon, nobody was resisting.
It didn’t take long for the unicorns to go through the crowd. When one approached the table where I and Filthy were still sitting, I rose up, nodding. The unicorn kept his face stoic, running his hooves over my body. His touch was uncomfortably strong, but I kept my mouth shut. As he noticed I didn’t have anything on me, the unicorn walked over to Filthy, doing the same search. But as he ran his hoof over Filthy’s side, he locked up for a second.
The unicorn’s horn flashed with an intense, blue light, making me cover my eyes. “Stop!” I could hear Filthy shout. “I have a fucking permit for –“ I took my hooves off my eyes. My heart raced as the unicorn wrestled Filthy down, putting two pairs of magical hoofcuffs on him. “Fucking –“ The unicorn hit Filthy in the head, making him fall down with a thud. I frowned as the unicorn summoned a glowing rope.
“Put it down, Rasend!” exclaimed another guard, running to the scene. Rasend gave him a questioning look, but complied as the other guard lit up his horn, removing the cuffs from Filthy’s hooves.
“What… what…” mumbled Filthy as he rose up, rubbing his head. “I have a permit, Celestia-damnit!”
“Let me see it, bitte.”
Filthy stared sternly at the guard. “Don’t you know who I am, idiot?”
The guard glared back at him just as sternly. “I do. But zhis is zee custom. Just show it so we can get over with zhis, hm? Surely your ego can’t be zhat big, Mister Rich.”
“I… nngh…” Filthy frowned, but took out a laminated piece of paper from the pockets of his now-worn tuxedo. “Here. And you better give it back and apologize before I buy this ship and fire all of you. Can’t ever trust Neighies to have any sort of manners…”
If the scene hadn’t been so serious, I would probably have burst out laughing – the guard somehow managed to keep his face completely stoic while Filthy insulted him. He examined the piece of paper carefully and nodded. “Everything seems to be satisfactory. Sorry for zee inconvenience, Mister Ri –”
“You bet your fucking flank that –“
“– but if you continue to disrupt zee peace, we have no choice but to lock you up.” The unicorn smirked at Filthy, who had a look of disbelief plastered on his face. “Press zee issue, and a case will be put up against you. But for now, have a good evening.” The guard walked next to another pony, and motioned for the others to continue. The room was dead silent as the remaining ponies were checked.
Finally, the situation was over, and ponies returned to their seats, leaving the dance floor empty. Sweetie and the band had left the stage. Richtig was nowhere to be seen.
“What a piece of shit. That guard, I mean,” said Filthy. He had sat next to me. “One would think that a pony of my status would get special treatment. I suppose they don’t give a shit about their nation’s safety, after all.”
I snorted. “Or perhaps you could’ve let your arrogance down for a moment?”
“Bullshit. I have every right to be arrogant. Besides, he just assaulted me right after feeling my revolver.” Filthy touched his right side, where a slight bulge revealed the presence of the hidden gun. “Besides, it’s not like I could even hit shit with this ass-cracker.”
“Right. Do you realize how hypocritical you sounded when demanding them to have manners?”
Filthy shrugged. “Of course. But that’s just how it is, like it or not. I’m just angry right now is all. When I return to my cabin, I will, undoubtedly, have a few glasses of whiskey and bury my head in my hooves, regretting my ignorance.”
“Uh… sure…” I rubbed my chin, but couldn’t make much sense of Filthy’s ramblings. He did hit his head pretty hard. “Hey, did you see where Sweetie went?”
Filthy rolled his eyes. “What do you think?”
Idiot. “Oh, right. You were busy being beaten up. Sorry.”
“Whatever. She’s probably backstage. I don’t know whether they’re gonna start playing again, but I doubt it. Now, if you’d excuse me,“ Filthy motioned for one of the servants to come closer, “a glass of your strongest one.”
Leaving Filthy to drink alone, I went to search for Sweetie. Many ponies were already wandering out of the room. Shock was evident in the faces of most; such episodes in snobby cruises like this were almost unheard of. I took a look around, but Sweetie was nowhere to be seen. The backstage door was there, but the thought of entering without permission made me cringe. With nothing else to do, I tagged along with the crowd and walked out. When I didn’t catch a glance of Sweetie in the hallways and corridors, I separated from the crowd, walking to a door leading outside onto the main deck.
As I stepped out to the empty deck, a warm, salty breeze greeted me, sending waves of nausea through my body. Shaking my head at the unnatural light of the electrical lamps, I pulled a small plastic bag from my pockets, taking out another batch of the green pills. I threw them into my mouth, swallowed, and grimaced at their dry and horrible taste. Why does it always have to be like this?
“Scootaloo?”
I turned around so fast that I almost stumbled onto the deck. In front of me was a giggling Sweetie Belle. “Gotcha!”
“You just had to do that, didn’t you?” I dashed at Sweetie, wrapping my hooves around her. My mind was filled with joy; it had been a long time.
Sweetie broke the embrace, grinning. “How’s it going, Scoots? I heard that you’ll take part in the championships.”
“Fine, for the most part. There hasn’t been much going on lately.”
“Oh, come on!” exclaimed Sweetie with a whiny tone. “Tell me more. No, tell me everything. It’s been two years, and all you can say is that you’re doing fine?”
I sighed. “Alright, Sweetie, alright… Well, for starters, I broke up with Silver Ribbon. Good riddance. Haven’t missed him. I’ve been spending most of my time racing in the Grand Prix Equestria Series, like you’ve probably read from the newspapers. Otherwise, there hasn’t been much going on. I bought a small apartment in Manehattan, but haven’t had the time to actually be there. Happy now?”
Sweetie shook her head. “No. I know of your break-up, since it was all over in the tabloids. But why did it happen, Scoots?”
“We just were too different. That’s all, I swear.“ And the whole truth.
“Hm…” A thoughtful look crossed Sweetie’s face, as she seemingly pondered my swift and simple explanation. “If that’s the case, I suppose it’s good that you broke up. And we should talk of something happier, anyway.”
“Happy? It seems like nopony’s happy these days.”
“What do you mean?”
“You probably noticed that I talked to Filthy Rich at the dance?” Sweetie nodded. “Well, he seems to have developed a strong liking for alcohol, or at least I got that impression. He didn’t answer my questions about Diamond, so their relations are probably still broken. I still don’t understand why Filthy made such a big fuss about the whole ‘family business’ thing… though I have finally begun to understand why Diamond turned out the way she did, with her father so preoccupied with buying and selling stuff.”
Sweetie frowned and turned the discussion to other matters. In the unnatural light of the lamps we talked about our days in Ponyville, recollecting both the fun and the bad times. My mind wandered into the garage of my parents’ humble house, where I’d built my first soapbox car with Apple Bloom’s help, earning my friend her cutie mark in the process – a hammer crossed with a screwdriver. Naturally, Pinkie Pie had thrown a party.
I got my mark, a dart with speed stripes, shortly after Apple Bloom. The first soapbox car broke down before I ever got a chance to use it, so I had Apple Bloom build me a better one. When coasting down a steep hill with incredible speed, I had, for the first time, experienced the burst of adrenaline that driving would always come to bring me. I’d driven scooters for a while, but they were no match for the more real vehicles. Even though it had taken a year for me to get hold of a real car – again, with Apple Bloom’s help – I had, by that time, driven in some competitions. My first sponsor had been Filthy Rich, and because of that, we still considered each other friends on some level.
Meanwhile, Sweetie had discovered her special talent. While I was busy going as fast as possible, she’d started taking singing lessons, apparently because of Rarity’s encouragement. There had been nothing dramatic about her mark, a musical note over a pink heart. She’d been the last of us to get hers, but that didn’t seem to move her one way or the other.
After a while, our trip back to Ponyville became boring and repetitive. My mind was starting to wander around, and I couldn’t really concentrate on Sweetie’s words. This evening can’t end this early. It’s been two years, and you really can’t think of anything to do?
“I’m getting drowsy,” I noted as an hour or two of our nostalgia-trip had passed, smirking of all the ideas that surged into my mind. “We should do something radical.”
“Radical? It’s ten in the evening, Scoots…”
“I know that, silly. I’m already getting sleepy, but since we’re finally together, we could actually do something, like back in the day. Has the adventurer in you died?” I took a pause, mulling about all the possibilities. “My car’s in the storage deck. It’s not a racing car, but revving the engine makes some pretty damn awesome noise, especially in an enclosed space.”
Sweetie raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious? What if we get ca –“
“Pfft. We’re not getting caught, that’s for sure. Just follow me!”
“But –“
“A-a! No buts. Let’s go!” Smiling, I grabbed Sweetie, pulling her to follow me. After hesitating for a moment, she complied, but looked unsure. We walked by the railing on the empty deck, until we came to a door which looked gritty compared to the rest of the ship. Some of the white paint had flaked off, and instead of having a detailed floor plan with a you’re here dot on it, a red 15 had been painted on the door.
“So, this is it?” asked Sweetie. “I thought the storage deck was much lower…”
I nodded. “It is much lower. I brought us here because this door is the maintenance access. I don’t think we’ll see anypony if we take this route – like I said, we won’t get caught.”
“And it’s not… locked?”
Great. I put my hoof on the handle and pressed it down, pushing the door at the same time. Surprisingly, it opened with a creak, revealing a wall of darkness. I glanced at Sweetie, and she lit up her horn. The light wasn’t exactly bright, but it would have to do. We stepped in side-by-side. Sweetie’s soft coat brushed against mine, and the warmness radiating from her body made me smile.
The maintenance tunnel was dank and dark, and we had to keep our pace slow to avoid tripping over the numerous pipes on the floor. After a while, we arrived at a narrow stairway, starting the descent down. My heart was now pounding – I’d never liked small, enclosed spaces. Only Sweetie’s presence kept me at least somewhat calm. Every once in a while there was a small platform with another maintenance door, but I instructed Sweetie to continue further down, hoping that my memory of the ship’s floor plan was accurate. It took us several minutes to reach the end of the staircase – a short, grey hallway with a large, metallic door in the back.
I walked to the door, but noticed that Sweetie was no longer by my side. I looked behind me, seeing that she was still uncertain about the whole ordeal. “This is a huge risk, Scoots. Let’s just… go back. Please. This was a stupid idea.”
“Come on, Sweetie! We’re already this far, so we might as well do it!”
“Scoots… I…” Sweetie glanced behind her. “I don’t know about this. What if we just returned to the deck and went to our cabins?”
I sighed, shaking my head. “We came all the way down here, and you’re gonna chicken out now? There’s nothing that could happen!”
Sweetie cringed, but after a moment of hesitation, stepped forward. “Alright, then,” she said with a defeated voice. “But if we get caught, I hold you responsible.”
“Sure.” I waited until Sweetie was back by my side before pushing down the door’s handle. At first, it didn’t move an inch, but when I jumped and pressed my whole body against it, it slowly inched down, letting out a dull clunk as it reached its bottom. This maintenance tunnel can’t have seen much use. I pushed the door open and stepped into the dark, tall room. As Sweetie followed, I saw that we were between two shelves as tall as the room: about eight to ten yards. On them were numerous packages and other containers, strapped securely to prevent them from falling. The door slid shut with a thud.
“Was war das?” called a voice from somewhere behind the right-side shelf. I froze. Sweetie’s light went off, leaving us in darkness.
“Nichts, Genau,” answered another after a moment of silence. I didn’t understand what was being said, but it didn’t sound like we’d been noticed. “Es war nur das Schiff.”
Hoofsteps could be heard. A light flickered from between the packages. My heart was racing, and I tried to keep as still as possible.
Two unicorns walked past where the shelves ended, about twenty feet away. Both were wearing the same sort of tuxedos that I’d gotten used to seeing everywhere, and I could clearly recognize the other as the one who’d saved Filthy from Rasend. His horn was shining a white light. The guards traded a few words in Germane, but I couldn’t make any sense of them. Only after their voices had gotten a lot farther did I have the courage to look at Sweetie. My muscles had tensed up so much that they were hurting.
“What did I tell you?” whispered Sweetie, illuminating her horn very slightly. I could only see her outlines. “Let’s go back to where we came from.”
Yes. This was an incredibly stupid idea, and you know that. “No.”
“No?”
I could feel energy course into my body. The adrenaline was there – the excitement that danger brought with it. “No.”
“Scoots, this is plain ridiculous.”
“I know.” Grinning, I continued forward. After a few steps, Sweetie tagged along, grumbling something inaudible. “While we’re here, we should find out what the guards are doing.” We walked in the shadow of the shelves and all sorts of large crates. The ship rocked lightly, but we were in no danger of falling over. Soon, the light of the guards stopped moving, and they said something to each other. We silently walked towards the direction of their noises, taking cover behind a large crate as we were close enough to listen to their conversation.
I peeked from behind the crate to see what the guards were doing, and my mouth fell open. They were examining a sleek, blue car – my car. One was peeking through the windows, while the other lay on the floor, knocking the underside of the car. “Hast du schon etwas gefunden?” asked the one on the floor.
“Nah. Nichts hier… jedenfalls, ich glaube nicht dass Scootaloo wurde schmuggeln.” A smuggler? Me, of all ponies?
The guards chatted for a short while before moving on to the other cars, though there were only eight in total. Sweetie poked me in the shoulder, signaling that it was time for us to go. We made our way back through the dark corridors and the staircase, not daring to talk until we were back on the main deck.
“Why in Tartarus am I a suspect?” I blurted out as we stepped back to the outside. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”
Sweetie paused before breaking out a smile. “You really don’t speak Germane, do you?” A hoof was pushed onto my mouth, denying me a chance to reply. “And don’t even answer that. They were saying that they didn’t think you’d smuggle anything. After all, you’d have nothing to gain, and everything to lose.”
“Okay, Sweetie… perhaps it’s time for us to go to bed.” I took a glance at the darkness beyond the ship, and saw a number of lights somewhere far away. Tomorrow, we’d arrive at Meerperl. “Now that we’ll actually be in the same city, would it hurt if we went to a restaurant together or something?”
“Of course not,” replied Sweetie. I looked deep into her green eyes. “But I’m getting drowsy. Let’s leave the talk for tomorrow.”
“Sure. Good night, Sweetie!” A warm feeling encompassed me as my friend walked away. Taking in the humid ocean air, I smiled. This will be one hay of a trip.