Wind Whistler adjusted the bow around her neck as she watched in the mirror. She made sure her blouse and jacket straight.
“You’re looking sharp, Wind Whistler,” Gusty said.
Wind Whistler turned to Gusty. “Thanks. I want to look my best for my meeting with Governor Spearhead.”
Wind Whistler frowned slightly. “I’m not sure why he wants to have dinner with me, though. All he said was he wanted to discuss the future of the colony.”
“Maybe he wants to give you a medal for what you did today,” Gusty said. She furrowed her brow. “Wait. Did we bring any medals?”
“Why would he want only me to be there?” Wind Whistler. “It was a group effort.”
Fizzy’s giggles drew Wind Whistler and Gusty’s attention to her and Shady. They were examining the bows in their tails.
“Don’t they look cute?” Fizzy asked.
“They do,” Shady said. “Though, I wonder why they’re in different colors and each pony got the color they did.”
“I don’t know, but pink is my favorite color,” Fizzy said.
“That might be what determined the color,” Wind Whistler said to join in the conversation. “White is my favorite color.”
“What about Gusty?” Shady motioned to Gusty’s tail. “Hers is pale purple.”
Gusty glared at Shady. “And what if I happen to like lavender?”
Shady folded in on herself as Gusty glared her down. “Sorry. You just don’t strike me as the ‘lavender’ type.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Gusty asked sharply.
Shady swallowed.
“She probably thought it’s because you’re a tomcolt,” Fizzy said blissfully.
Gusty turned her gaze to Fizzy. “Well, I might be, but I can still like pink and lavender.”
Gusty went to the door. “In fact, it goes perfectly with my favorite scarf.”
She pulled a pink and lavender scarf out of bag she had brought in and tied it around her neck. “How does it look?” Gusty generated a slight breeze to make the scarf wave behind her. She puffed out her chest in a heroic stance.
Fizzy clapped her hooves. “I love the look.”
Shady looked back at the light blue ribbon in her tail. “I wonder how we’re supposed to get them on and off.”
The ribbon suddenly untied and flew into Shady’s mouth widthwise. She instinctively closed her mouth over it.
“Apparently that’s how,” Gusty said with an amused grin. “See if it’ll go back on.”
Shady held her head back towards her tail. The ribbon flew out of her mouth and tied itself around her tail in a bow like before.
“Now that’s just freaky,” Gusty said. “Convenient, but freaky.”
“Well, these ribbons and the kerchiefs and stallions wear were created by magic,” Wind Whistler said. “I would also suggest keeping them on as much as possible as they seem to protect us.”
Gusty glanced at a clock. “Hey, don’t you have a dinner date with the governor?”
Wind Whistler suddenly remembered. “You’re right. See you tonight.”
Wind Whistler rushed out of the room in the castle’s lower level. She walked to the stairs little with some candles sitting on the sconces.
She again tried to determine a reason for this meeting. However, nothing came to her. Spearhead was a cipher. He was a good leader, and his using his own body to destroy the obelisk showed he cared for his fellow ponies. Yet, he came kept what others knew of him to a bare minimum.
Wind Whistler walked up the stairs to the second floor and turned to the left. The door into the room Spearhead was using as a private dining room was open with flickering candlelight came from it. She walked in and saw the table in the center with a meal made out of the dinner rations for two ponies. Though, there was a pitcher of apple cider instead of water as well as a bowl of a half dozen ripe nectarines in the center. They had brought some luxury food items for special occasions as well as trading. There were also several lit candles around the room to provide plenty of light. Wind Whistler wondered what called for such luxuries.
Spearhead walked up to the table. He wore nothing but the blood red kerchief given to him by the Waterfall. Wind Whistler suddenly felt overdressed for the occasion
Spearhead held out his hoof in a welcoming gesture. “Please have a seat, Wind Whistler.”
Wind Whistler sat on the pillow at one end of the table. Spearhead sat on the other. This was the first chance Wind Whistler could really concentrate on their governor. He was an older pony with slight creases at the corners of his mouth and eyes. However, his muscles would rival an earth pony stallion in their prime in bulk and tone. He was huge, and Wind Whistler felt smaller in his presence with no other ponies around.
Spearhead picked up the pitcher with his magic. “I read up on you before we came here.” He poured cider into Wind Whistler’s glass. “You’re classified as a super genius with an IQ of at least two hundred with mathematics, science, and critical thinking being your best subjects.” Spearhead poured cider into his glass without interrupting his monologue. “You struggled in high school with only a B- average and a checkered discipline record.” He stopped pouring and set the pitcher down. “You then graduated with top honors from Cloudsdale University in five years, earning three bachelor’s degrees in weather management, engineering, and philosophy.”
“The college setting suited me better,” Wind Whistler said, a little uncomfortable Spearhead had read through her file and was apparently thorough about it.
“Indeed,” Spearhead said. “You were then hired at Weather Factory Iota and promoted to controller in less than a year. The reviews of your peers and subordinates describe a young mare who is not very personable but very efficient, level-headed, and creative in dealing with problems and running general operations.”
Wind Whistler remembered reading those reviews. “That is true. However, you seem to have me at a disadvantage. I know nothing about you.”
Spearhead snorted a laugh. “I was born in Coltcord to a local guard and his wife. I naturally followed in my father’s hoofsteps, enlisting in the local guard as soon as I was able, but then went well beyond. I was a very good soldier with certain gifts as you saw today and ponies in high places noticed. I was transferred to Canterlot and eventually became the Captain of the Royal Guard.”
“It’s rare for a guard who started outside of Canterlot to be promoted to such a high rank,” Wind Whistler replied, trying to sound interested in military matters she did not care for all that much. “You must have served Princess Celestia well.”
Wind Whistler reached forward and took a nectarine into her teeth delicately. She loved the sweet fruit. She wondered if they had been put out for her because Spearhead had read that in this file on her.
“I serve Equestria and Ponykind,” Spearhead said sharply. “Celestia is capable of taking care of herself in most circumstances. It’s the common ponies who need protection.”
Wind Whistler set down her nectarine. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.” Spearhead sat there for a second in silence. He then said, “In a sensible world, a mare of your abilities and accomplishments would have been made an alacorn princess. You’re just as worthy of the title as Princess Twilight Sparkle.”
Wind Whistler was taken aback by Spearhead’s rather blunt statement. “I wouldn’t say that. Princess Twilight Sparkle and her friends freed Princess Luna from Nightmare Moon. They also resealed Discord and then convinced him to use his power for the Equestrian cause.”
Spearhead held up his hoof. “Note you said her and her friends. You, on the other hoof, didn’t need to rely on friends to get where you are. You got to where you are on your own abilities just like I did. Friendship is a wonderful thing, but sometimes you have to rely on yourself.”
“I never thought of that,” Wind Whistler replied.
“Case in point: what happened today,” Spearhead said. “You were the one who saved the valley. Everypony here owes their mobility to you.”
Wind Whistler’s cheeks warmed. She hoped it was not showing in her face.
“You’re giving me too much credit,” Wind Whistler said. “The idea only came to me because of Topsoil and Trickles, and then I needed Magic Star to confirm my theory. I didn’t even destroy the obelisk. You and the Buttons did.”
It was no different from how she ran the weather factory. She got information from ponies who had it and used it to formulate instructions for the ponies who could do something with it. Granted, the stakes were higher here and the problem was more complicated, but it was just a part of the job.
“But it was you who figured it out,” Spearhead said. “You also thought of using Buttons’ magic to propel me. You demonstrated true leadership when the stakes were at their highest, and friendship never once entered the equation, did it?”
“Well, no,” Wind Whistler admitted.
“Then there you have it,” Spearhead said.
Spearhead took another sip of cider. Wind Whistler took the opportunity to bite into the pleasantly sweet flesh of the nectarine. She chewed and savored the juice. Spearhead put down his glass. “You also put yourself in danger to save Magic Star. That was quite a heroic act.”
Wind Whistler swallowed. “We’re all in this together. My life is no more important than anypony else’s.”
Spearhead nodded. “You also have a healthy dose of humility.”
Wind Whistler took another bite of the nectarine. She again took her time chewing and savoring it. It could be a long time before she could enjoy the fruit again.
She was glad Spearhead thought so highly of her. Perhaps Gusty was right, she thought. Maybe he does want to give me some reward for my actions today.
“However, it’s not the past I wanted to talk to you about,” Spearhead said. “It’s the future. With this crisis averted, we need to begin our mission of establishing the foundation for our new colony. Part of that foundation is a power structure. While I can’t give you a horn, I can give you a position of power fitting your abilities. You are on a very short list of ponies I’ve been looking at to make my lieutenant governor. After the events of today, that list has shortened to one.”
Spearhead looked at Wind Whistler intently. “Do you accept the position of Lieutenant Governor of Equestria Nova?”
Wind Whistler swallowed abruptly and fortunately sent the nectarine down without choking. “I—uh…” She fumbled mentally for words. It was a huge honor, but also a huge responsibility. She had never considered a life in the political arena. Running a weather factory was one thing, but governor of even a small colony was a completely different matter. There were also some misgivings gnawing at the very back of her mind about his opinions. He did not seem to view friendship all that highly, though Wind Whistler thought the importance of friendship in Equestria was a little overstated herself. “I need some time to think about this,” she finally managed to say. It was the most honest answer she could give.
“Of course.” Spearhead gave a nod. “I’ll give you three days. There are others I have considered, but you are at the top of the list.”
The dinner had gone quietly after Wind Whistler said she would consider Spearhead’s offer. Spearhead had never been one for small talk. Fortunately, Wind Whistler seemed to have as little use for it. Over the course of the dinner, Wind Whistler quietly polished off the lion’s share of the nectarines. The infamous pegasus appetite was present even in the most petite of mares.
Wind Whistler excused herself once she had her fill and left the room. Spearhead followed after her into the dimly-lit hall. A glint caught Spearhead’s eye. He made no gesture like he had noticed it, but he knew exactly what it was: Echo. He waited until Wind Whistler disappeared around the corner and several seconds more to make sure she was not coming back.
“I know you were in there with us,” Spearhead said coldly. Of course, he did not mean she was physically in the tent. However, he knew she was using her magic of telepresence to take in every sensation in there.
Echo did not respond. She could not respond, at least not verbally. She was born without functioning vocal chords rendering her a true mute.
Spearhead turned to her. Her eyes had morphed into those octagonal gems all the crystal ponies’ eyes had become. It made her expressionless gaze all the more unsettling. She was an expert of keeping her thoughts and emotions from manifesting themselves as expressions and body language. Not only was she able to gather so much information so easily, she could completely control what information she gave out.
She just stood there, the ice blue gems she called eyes twinkling in the dim light. Maybe we should start calling them ‘twinkled-eyed’ ponies, Spearhead thought to himself as a joke.
Although Echo gave no indications, Spearhead knew exactly what was on her mind. It was what was on all his followers’ minds. He walked up to her.
“I know you and my other followers are displeased I’m looking to the outside for my second in command,” Spearhead said. “However, the point of this exercise is to spread our cause, not reward loyalty. Wind Whistler is not only a brilliant leader, but the kind of pony who would be sympathetic to our ideals.”
Echo blinked. However, it barely interrupted her blank stare. She nodded and turned away.
Rosetta looked up as Echo entered what had been dubbed the lounge. As if Echo’s blank stare was not enough to give you a week’s worth of nightmares, the new eye gems sent a chill through Rosetta like she had never felt before. She would prefer to just give the mute her space, but she wanted answers.
“What did Governor Spearhead say?” Rosetta asked.
An aura surrounded Echo’s horn. “The point of this exercise is to spread our cause, not reward loyalty. Wind Whistler is not only a brilliant leader, but the kind of pony who would be sympathetic to our ideals,” Spearhead voice said as if from a recording with an electronic quality to it. The aura around Echo’s horn disappeared.
Rosetta ground her teeth. Typically, Echo’s ‘playing back’ of conversations put her at unease, but not this evening. Echo could suddenly sprout a miniature version of herself from her chest, and Rosetta would not care. She was too angry to care. “And what if she isn’t?”
“We need to have faith in our glorious leader’s plans,” Landslide said casually. Rosetta glared down the earth pony stallion with a burgundy coat and blue mane. However, he did not flinch.
“Preaching the choir won’t bring the colony under our sway,” Landslide said. “However, Wind Whistler is considered a hero at the moment. Having her preach our ideals or at least back Governor Spearhead would make our cause more appealing.”
Rosetta gave a grunt. She saw the logic, but still disagreed. For one thing, as Spearhead’s first and most loyal follower, she should have been the second in command instead of some outsider. What good is loyalty if it gives you no rewards? she thought to herself.
Wind Whistler stepped onto the balcony to a welcome sight: snow. Flakes fell at a moderate pace and the courtyard was already covered in white. Several ponies were in the ten centimeters or so of snow, throwing snowballs or simply frolicking in it.
The snow meant water was coming into the valley. Not only was the curse turning carbon to silicon, but it prevented water from entering the valley as well. With a source of water and an abundance of plant life, Dream Valley now seemed like the perfect place to begin their hoofhold in this world.
Wind Whistler noticed a snowball come at her just in time to lean out of the way. The snowball splattered on her now wooden door. She followed the trajectory to Gusty and Fizzy standing in the courtyard.
“Come on down, Wind Whistler.” Gusty made a gesture with her leg conveying the same message.
Wind Whistler glided down to them and planted her hooves in the cold, spongy snow.
“It’s snowing!” Fizzy cheered. “It’s the best part of winter.”
“I’m more of a fall pony, myself,” Gusty said, “but do like a good snowstorm especially when it isn’t flying in your face at a hundred kilometers an hour.
“Is that why you hurled a sizeable mass of it at me?” Wind Whistler asked.
“Don’t tell me you never had a snowball fight.” Gusty fashioned another snowball with her magic.
“I was actually quite good at snowball fighting,” Wind Whistler said. “After determining mass, density, and wind conditions, I could plot a very exact launch path to strike my opponent.”
“You make it sound so complicated,” Gusty said dismissively. “You just point and throw.”
Gusty launched the snowball out of her magic like a stone from a slingshot. It flew towards front entrance of the main building.
Shady stepped out the entrance and duck as the snowball spattered on the column next to her. “We’re under attack!” she shrieked.
Gusty galloped to Shady. Wind Whistler followed her with Fizzy.
“We’re not under attack,” Gusty said. “It’s just a harmless snowball fight. They don’t even hurt.”
“Actually, over-packing the snow can make it haz—” Wind Whistler started to say.
“Shut up,” Gusty said through her forced grin.
Wind Whistler closed her mouth, realizing her extensive knowledge might be better left untapped in this.
Shady stood up and heaved a sigh. “I’m such a coward.”
“You’re not a coward,” Fizzy replied. “You’re just really cautious. For all you knew, it was an attack.”
“Especially after what happened yesterday,” Gusty said. Her grin broadened. “Were those ape things ugly or what?”
“I wish I could have seen them,” Fizzy said with a hint of disappointment in her voice.
“I don’t,” Shady said with a tremble to her voice. “From what everypony says, they’re really mean.”
Gusty exhaled and raised her hoof dismissively. “They’re pushovers. We destroyed their rock, and we have Wind Whistler to thank for it.”
Gusty’s comment brought the subject last night’s conversation to the front of Wind Whistler’s mind.
“Something on your mind?” Gusty asked.
Wind Whistler realized she was frowning in her thoughts. She lifted her expression flightly. “Last night, Spearhead offered to make me his lieutenant governor.”
“I say go for it,” Gusty replied.
“Yeah,” Fizzy said. “You’ll make a great lieutenant governor.” She paused and frowned confusedly. “What’s a lieutenant governor?”
“She’d be Spearhead’s second in command,” Gusty said.
“I suppose,” Wind Whistler said. “It’s just I feel like yet again I’m being thrust to the top too quickly. I rose to as high a position as a pony of my background could reach back home, and I fear this could be the same”
“First of all, being a lieutenant governor is different from being a factory controller,” Gusty said. “And take a look at the world around you.”
Wind Whistler looked at the courtyard and then up at the blanket of light gray clouds the snow fell from.
“This world isn’t Equestria,” Gusty said. “Ponies aren’t top dogs here. There’s still so much out there.”
Wind Whistler brought her attention back to Gusty specifically. “Take his offer,” Gusty said. “You’re the best pony for the job.”
Wind Whistler smiled slightly. Politics was different from being a factory controller. It would be a new challenge which is what she had been looking for. “Thank you, Gusty,” she said.
Scrapper came to the stone wall that marked the perimeter of the old castle. It had been a long time since a blark had come this way. He was surprised the old tunnels were still in good condition considering no one had set foot in them in his lifetime or his father’s lifetime for that matter.
He wondered if the old secret entrance still worked. Obviously it had to or he came all this way for nothing. He pulled his notes out of his vest and held them in the light of his lantern. The third block from the bottom and second from the left was the switch. He threw his weight into the block. It gave ever so slightly. However, he heard mechanisms clunk and pull from behind the wall. Several blocks pivoted in as a door.
“They certainly built stuff to last back then,” Scrapper muttered to himself.
Scrapper scurried into the lower most hall of the castle, and recalled the old plans. The castle did not have a dungeon, but instead used the two basement levels for storage and utilities.
Scrapper pulled the first door open. He shined his light in the room. It was a box of stone and completely empty. He heart sunk slightly. Even if there was nothing that could be considered junk, he was hoping for some evidence someone lived here like the rumors claimed.
He looked to the stairs. It might be whoever was here had just not gotten down here.
He scurried up the hall and up the stairs. The upper level of the basement included the lower level of the ballroom as well as more storage. If anyone was here, they had to have at least been to the ballroom. He pulled a door leading into the ballroom open and shined the light in.
He did not need the light. Several lights had been set up. The room was also filled with crates, boxes, and barrels.
Scrapper jumped for joy and laughed. There was someone living here, and they had a lot of stuff. He caught himself and looked around. No one seemed to be around.
While there was certainly stuff here, he wondered if there was any junk. Broken machines with some parts intact would be the best find. Everyone was looking for a hard to get gear or manifold that could come from an otherwise totaled device.
Scrapper set down his lantern and jumped on the side of an opened crate. It contained machetes. He went another with several old fashioned rifles. He whistled at the pristine state of the antiques.
Scrapper heard a shout in a strange language.
Scrapper dropped to the floor and looked around. He then saw a small pony walk out from behind a stack of barrels. Why would they let their beasts of burden in here? he thought.
The pony pointed at Scrapper and shouted another phrase in the language he had heard. He immediately realized this pony was not a beast of burden of the newcomers. He was one of the newcomers.
Scrapper scurried for the door. Green light surrounded the door and it shut itself.
Scrapper grabbed the door handle and tried to pull it down. However, it remained firm like it was being held in place. He turned back to the pony. The same green light surrounded the horn protruding from his forward.
Scrapper curled up in ball. Even if he was not here to steal anything of use, he knew he looked like a thief. His family would be dishonored. All he had left was his life.
“Please don’t hurt me,” Scrapper begged.
The pony stopped. He furrowed his brow. His horn flashed.
“Sorry about that,” he said and Scrapper could suddenly understand him.
Scrapper uncurled and stood up. “You speak Common?”
“No, I’m using my magic translate,” the pony said. “Fortunately I’ve already had an experience with what you call Common, so I didn’t need to form a new translation matrix.”
“What’s going on down there?” another voice asked forcefully.
Another pony flew in. He did not have a horn, but instead a pair of feathery wings he folded at his sides.
“What are you?” Scrapper asked, absolutely awestruck.
“That’s what we should be asking you, rat,” the winged pony growled.
“Rat?!” Scrapper squeaked. Admittedly, blarks were rodents from rat lineage, but it was still an insult. “How would you like it if I called you ponies?”
“We are ponies,” the horned pony said.
Scrapper lost his train of thought. He crossed his arms. “Well, I’m not a rat. I’m a blark.”
“You’re a thief!” The winged pony took an aggressive step towards Scrapper.
Scrapper pressed himself against the door. These ponies were smaller compared to most horses, but still a lot bigger than him. One kick could crack open is skull like an egg.
Scrapper swallowed. “I’m not a thief. All I want is junk you don’t use anymore.”
The horned pony held his front leg in front of the winged pony. Scrapper had never seen a horse able to do that. The horned pony turned to the winged pony and glared him down. “There’s no need to get violent.”
The winged pony wrinkled his nose at the horned pony. “Well, we should still take him to Governor Spearhead.”
The winged pony turned his attention back to Scrapper and glared down at him. “You’re coming with us.”
Scrapper swallowed again.
Spearhead turned away from his new lieutenant governor as Typhoon and Babel walked in with what looked like a large, brown rat wearing a vest. “What’s with the—”
“He doesn’t like being called a rat.” Babel cut Spearhead off before he could say the word. “He says he’s a blark.”
“We found him rummaging through our stores,” Typhoon said.
Spearhead bolted up. “So, he’s a thief!”
The blark backed into Typhoon and Babel’s legs. “No. I just want junk. My people have strict rules against thievery.”
Wind Whistler held up her hoof in front of Spearhead. “We should hear him out. Our mission is to make friends and spread the virtues of Equestrian culture. One of those virtues is not jumping to conclusions about those who are different.”
Spearhead turned to Wind Whistler. She put her hoof down and looked to him with an assertive expression. She was settling into her new position quickly.
“Fine,” Spearhead said.
He turned back to the blark. “What’s your name?”
The blark wrung his hands. “Uh…it’s Scrapper. I’m a junk collector.”
“Why would you want junk, anyway?” Babel asked.
“That’s what blarks do,” Scrapper replied. “We collect, keep, and trade junk and riddles. If you’re looking for a part or a brainteaser, you can come to us with whatever you don’t need or your best jokes and riddles.”
“Interesting,” Wind Whistler said. “Unfortunately, we do not have much in the way of salvage. However, we have a lot of riddles.”
“Well, I can take you to my city to see our leader,” Scrapper said. “Since you’re new here, we might be able to explain some things.”
“That would be a good idea,” Wind Whistler said. She paused. “I should take Babel, Paradise, and Fan Belt with me.”
“Excellent candidates,” Spearhead said. “I leave this first contact situation to you.”
“Thank you, Governor.” Wind Whistler bowed her head.
“Might I suggest Rosetta instead of Babel?” Typhoon asked. “She’s also a linguist.”
“I’ve already created an Equestrian–Common translation matrix,” Babel retorted. “This is a first contact situation, and it would be better to send the translator who already knows the language.”
“Agreed,” Wind Whistler said. “We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
“You can sleep with us, Scrapper,” Babel said.
“Thanks,” Scrapper replied.
Wind Whistler walked out of the room. Babel and Scrapper followed her.
Typhoon watched them leave. He waited several seconds apparently until he thought they were out of earshot. He turned to Spearhead with a frown. “Are you sure making her second in command was such a good idea? She’s already stepping on your hooves. Rosetta’s also going to blow her stack when she discovers you just let Wind Whistler throw her off an important mission.
“Babel is better qualified for the situation,” Spearhead said. “My policy is to send in the best pony for the job regardless of personal connections. You know that.”
“You also let her take this opportunity to form a possible alliance,” Typhoon said. “That’s a lot of political capital to let her take out from under your nose.”
“They’re junk dealers,” Spearhead said. “Granted having friendly first contact is a perk, but her being the face we present to them doesn’t weaken my standing. When we run across a possible ally who can further our cause, you can be sure I will be the one making first contact.”
Typhoon continued to glower.
“You have to be patient, Typhoon,” Spearhead said. “Everything is going as I planned.”