//------------------------------// // The End/Setback // Story: TCB: The Ballad of the White Rose // by BillyColt //------------------------------// Memory 1 The End A small group of ponies stood outside, looking at a small house. It seemed like a perfectly fine day, bright and cheery without a cloud in the sky. The ponies, however, were gripped by a sense of nervous urgency. One of them looked up at the sky. “Princess Celestia!” Indeed, the princess was flying in, courtesy of her chariot. The three ponies bowed as her chariot landed and she stepped out. “Has there been any luck?” she asked. “None,” said one of the ponies. “He’s refusing to budge.” Celestia sighed. “I was afraid this might happen.” “What should we do?” “Nothing,” said Celestia. “I’ll go talk to him.” “But, your majesty–” “I can take care of myself,” said the princess. Slowly, she walked up the path to the front door. It was locked, but that was no trouble for her magic. There was a click as the door unlocked and opened, allowing the princess to step inside. The house was modest and clean, with very little in the way of furnishings or decorations. The house was still, and for a moment Celestia feared that she might be too late. “I thought I locked that,” said a voice from the study. Celestia followed. The study was also very sparse, bare of books, with little more than a desk and a chair. Sitting behind the desk was a man, about in his early thirties. He was leaned over the desk, writing on a sheet of paper with a pen. Next to him was a pistol, a vial of some liquid, and a white rose. Princess Celestia stood silently for a minute. The human pulled out a handkerchief and coughed into it. “They tell me you’re not being cooperative,” she said at length. “Don’t feel like it,” said the human, returning to his letter. “Gave me this potion.” He pointed to the vial on the desk. “And you’re not going to take it?” asked Celestia. “Call me a procrastinator,” he muttered through his teeth. “Dylan...” The human slowly looked up, his eyes narrowed. “Dylan, please,” said Celestia. “You’re being unreasonable.” “If I could breathe better I’d laugh...” he said, returning to his letter. “You don’t have anything to lose by taking it,” said the princess, “except maybe your pride.” The pen stopped. The human didn’t look up. “Except maybe my pride,” he repeated. “That’s all I have left. That’s all you’ve left me.” “You don’t have long to live if you stay like this,” said Celestia. “The air is killing you. You’re still a young man, Dylan. I’m offering you the chance to live a good life. It’s not worth throwing away.” Dylan set down the pen and leaned back in his seat. “You’d like that, princess, wouldn’t you?” he asked, before coughing into the handkerchief again. “You’d like to have it end on a happy note. You’d like to end it on a conversion instead of a death.” “That’s how I’ve always preferred it.” Dylan glared at her. “No,” he said. “I’m not going to give you that satisfaction.” “Then you’re willing to die just to spite me?” “Maybe that’s part of it,” said Dylan. He looked at the vial and picked it up. “You think I should... I should just drink this, become one of you, and then go on as though nothing ever happened? Pretend you ponies didn’t poison me? Act as though none of this ever mattered?” He laughed bitterly, followed by a new round of coughing. “Guess I can still laugh.” “You could be happy,” said Celestia. Dylan didn’t answer. “Is this really the option you prefer?” “Happy...” Dylan repeated. “I think I remember the last time I felt I was happy. It was... maybe two months ago. I was in the bar, sitting by myself.” He laughed to himself. “Last human in the world, so no one minds if I help myself to some of the worthless booze. I have the jukebox on, playing Piano Man.” He looked back up at her. “You know that song?” He coughed again. “Anyway, I think I’m all alone and then this pegasus walks up next to me, takes a seat. He stares at me as though he’s dumbfounded. And then he asks me...” “What?” “The same thing all of you ask me,” said Dylan. “He asks me why I don’t just turn into a pony.” The room went silent for a minute, save for Dylan’s periodic coughs. “I told him why,” he said at length. “And that’s when I realized that I was going to die. And I think he realized it too, because when I looked back at him he was crying... And then he says to me, ‘Keep fighting. Never stop fighting.’” He coughed yet again. “I don’t know much about fighting. But I figure this is close enough.” “Then there’s nothing I can say to convince you?” The last human leaned forward, taking the pistol in his hand. “As long as I’m alive this is still my home.” He raised the gun and pointed it at the princess. “You are trespassing. Get out.” Celestia stood there. The gun wouldn’t hurt her – they both knew that. The human’s hand shook, and he dropped the gun, before entering into a new fit of coughs. “Very well,” said Celestia sadly. “Goodbye, Dylan.” She turned and left the study, shutting the door behind her. Dylan slowly picked up the pen and returned to the letter. It was getting harder to write each passing word, but this was the last thing he was going to do on earth... He set the pen down. He turned his head to look at the flower next to him. He reached over and turned the rose over in his hand, contemplating it. He lifted it and leaned back in his chair, holding the rose in front of him. Then his hand fell. Chapter 2 Setback The kitchen at Pegasus Pete’s Pizza was busy. The delivery-colt had just been assigned to deliver three pizzas to “The zeppelin floating over the building,” said his boss. The delivery-colt blinked and his mouth drew back into a bemused expression as his boss gave him three pizzas.   He headed out the front door and looked up – sure enough, there was a big white blimp floating lazily overhead. Part of him was confused as to why they needed delivery if they could just come down and get it themselves…   Deciding not to question the customers, he spread his wings and took off into the air, all the while contemplating the random circumstance. After a somewhat frustrating search for an entrance, he landed on a small balcony and knocked on the door. The red-maned pegasus answered. “I have one cheese, one bell pepper, and one pineapple?” asked the delivery-colt. “We ordered pineapple?” asked Firebrand. He leaned back into the room. “Hey! Why’d we order pineapple?!” “Because I asked for it!” answered Signal’s voice. “What’s wrong with pineapple anyway?” “Weeeird...” said Firebrand, returning his attention to the delivery. “Anyway, here’s your money,” he said, producing a bag of bits. “By the way,” he added as they exchanged, “how do you like my ship?” “Umm...” said the delivery-colt. “It’s pretty cool, yeah.” “Yes it is,” said Firebrand. Without another thought, he piled the pizzas onto his back and shut the door. “Alright, everybody, we got food!” He made his way down the hall to the kitchen, a fairly cramped space with a stove, oven, refrigerator and a surprisingly large table, around which the members of his crew were already seated. There was Vox, a black earth pony with a marvelous voice. He gave the speeches over the radio. Next to him was Wordsworth, a white unicorn and aspiring poet who wrote the speeches and the leaflets. Further down was a turquoise unicorn named Signal. Her job was to get their broadcasts out, even if it meant drowning out some hapless “legitimate” radio station. Next were the fraternal twins, Cogs and Bolter, two brown earth ponies who worked the engine and kept the ship in the air. And lastly, there was a cobalt-blue pegasus, Sweeps. He was pretty much just a janitor. Wasn’t even really all that on-board with the mission statement, just wanted to be on a ship. “Alright, so we got cheese, bell peppers, and pineapple...” Firebrand listed. “Pineapple?” asked Bolter. “Who eats pizza with pineapple?” “I do,” said Signal. “So, Wordsworth, you got a new poem?” Wordsworth drew back in his seat. “Well, not exactly...” “What do you mean ‘not exactly?’” asked Vox. “You were just showing it to me!” “Vox...” “I’d like to hear it...” said Sweeps in his usual quiet voice. Wordsworth, however, would have none of it. “Come on, guys, it’s terrible. Let’s just have the pizza...” “No,” said Firebrand, placing a hoof on top of the boxes. “I want to hear that poem. No poem, no pizza.” The others all looked at Wordsworth, who sighed in resignation. “Fine...” he said, producing a piece of paper and floating it in front of Vox. Vox straightened himself out in his seat, cleared his thoat, and began to read. “The lark and the thrush, As they fly from the bush Sing songs of the coming of spring. Though winter was cold, They pipe forth still bold The life and rebirth it will bring. And there on the hill, The air, cold and still Sounds forth with the merriest ring.” When the poem was completed the other ponies applauded. Wordsworth smiled bashfully, a little embarrassed. “You guys...” Wordsworth said. “Come on, it’s not that good...” “Welllll,” said Firebrand with a playful smile. “If you don’t think you’re a good enough writer we could always find someone else.” “Alright, alright,” Wordsworth laughed. “C’mon, let’s get out the pizza and the cider.” Signal was already opening up a few bottles of sparkling cider while Firebrand opened the boxes of pizza and passed them around. Vox, Wordsworth, and Sweeps helped themselves to the cheese while the twins helped themselves to the bell peppers. Signal was, of course, the only pony interested in the pineapple. Firebrand, however, didn’t take any. He sat there, watching his crew, before rising, a glass of cider in his hoof. “I’d just like to take this moment,” he began, “to thank you all for being here. I certainly couldn’t get this ship off the ground myself – I couldn’t fly it myself, do the broadcasts, or the leaflets.” Firebrand turned to each of the responsible parties, nodding at them in turn. “We’re heading over Canterlot. Tomorrow’s the big anniversary and, well, we’re gonna make sure they all hear us. We’ll make them remember.” He lowered his voice. “We’ll make them listen.” There was a pause as he raised his glass. “To memories of yesterday, and dreams of tomorrow. To the White Rose.” “To the White Rose,” responded the crew. - The next day, the anniversary of the end of humanity, was not a particularly regarded date in Equestria, and the only ones who paid it attention were historians. As such, most of the ponies in Canterlot regarded it as a very average day. Because of this, many ponies were annoyed when they found their radios weren’t working. From the bridge of his ship, Firebrand smiled. “Alright, Signal?” he called into the intercom. “Get this on every station you can.” “Got it,” said Signal. In the broadcast room, Signal was hard at work navigating several ham radio sets. Vox sat behind a sheet of soundproof glass and waiting by the microphone. Finally, Signal nodded to him, and he began to speak. Down below in Canterlot, countless ponies found that their radios refused to cooperate. “Good afternoon, citizens of Canterlot,” announced Vox. “Today is a very special day for some of us. Today marks the anniversary of the end of an era.” The ponies of Canterlot stared at their radios, confused as to why somepony was interfering with their usual programming. Some ponies, however, looked out their windows and up in the sky, where they saw the white airship floating over the city. The ponies at Canterlot castle included. A royal guard rushed down the hall of the royal palace. “Princess Celestia!” he gasped, “There’s an incident.” Princess Celestia paused, unsure as to what was happening. She could scarcely remember the last time there was an incident. “What kind of an incident?” she asked. The guard produced a radio set and turned it on. Vox was continuing his speech. “...Once, there were billions of humans walking the planet. Now there are none. I imagine you may well be asking ‘where did they go?’ Well, I’ll tell you: they’re all gone, thanks directly to our fair princesses!” “What should we do, your majesty?” asked the guard. The princess, however, did not respond. Instead, she rose from her throne and marched down the hall, through a set of doors and out onto a balcony. From the balcony, she could see the zeppelin looming over the city. “Is the broadcast coming from that?” asked the princess. “We suspect so, your majesty,” said the guard. “...it was a slow, quiet extermination, some humans turned to ponies by way of entreaty, others simply died off as they could not live in the new environment encroaching on their homes...” “Cut off the broadcast,” said the Princess. “They must be using magic to hijack the radio stations. Try to interfere.” “As you wish, your majesty.” The guard bowed and marched off. - Firebrand lazily sat in his seat, listening to Vox’s speech. Everything was going smoothly so far. What I wouldn’t give, he thought, to see the look on the princess’s face right now. His smug satisfaction, however, was interrupted. “Captain!” called Signal’s voice over the intercom. “Quiet, Sigs,” yawned Firebrand, “I’m trying to listen to the show.” “You’re not the one that needs to hear it.” “Huh?” asked Firebrand. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means that we have a problem with the broadcast,” said Signal. “They’re jamming our signal.” “They? Who?” Well, got their attention, thought Firebrand. His eyes fell on a megaphone on the shelf next to him. “Signal, just keep trying to get that broadcast out. I’m gonna go do something stupid.” He got out of his seat and grabbed the megaphone in his mouth, before marching out of the bridge. “Hey,” said Sweeps as Firebrand brushed past him in the hall, “how’s the thing going?” “Shtahlled,” said Firebrand in a muffled voice as he headed for the door to the balcony. He leaned over the edge, looking down at Canterlot below, then to the castle where the princesses dwelled. “Hey!” he yelled into the megaphone. “We weren’t finished!” He jumped over the edge and flew around the zeppelin, carrying the megaphone in his hooves and glaring at the castle. “You can block out our broadcasts, but you can’t silence us! I’m talking to you, princess! And I’m gonna keep talking and yelling and...” However, he found that the microphone had vanished from his hooves. He stared at them, his mind racing in anger and confusion, before he looked up and saw Princess Celestia before him. “You!” he shouted. “Well, you said you were talking to me,” said the princess. “Shall we return to your ship?” Firebrand flew back to the balcony, keeping his eyes on the princess as she followed him. “You know what today is, right?” he asked. “Your friend was sure to tell everypony over the radio,” replied the princess. “What is your name?” “Firebrand,” said he, nodding to the flaming bolt on his flank. The princess carefully examined him, taking note of his slouched posture, his narrowed eyes, the snarl in his voice, everything. “My guards are currently standing down,” she said. “I assured them I could manage the situation without too much of a hassle.” “Well, ain’t that too bad?” “Well, your broadcast isn’t going out, so technically I’ve solved that.” Firebrand paused, continuing to glare at her. He hated that sing-songy quality in her voice, like she was mocking him, talking down to him the way a mother talks down to a toddler. “What is it you want?” she asked. “We want justice,” said Firebrand. “Most of the ponies who were involved have passed away without event or consequence. But you? You and your sister are still alive, and you’ll remain alive.” “Justice?” she asked. “Justice for what?” “For the genocide of the human race!” Firebrand snapped. Celestia stared at him and sighed. “You’re a very angry little pony, Firebrand.” “I think we’ve got a pretty good reason.” “Do you?” asked Celestia. “There are no humans left to protest. Neither have their descendents.” “We are now,” said Firebrand. Celestia paused. “I knew him, you know,” she said. “I spoke with him shortly before he died.” “What, you’re gonna tell me he was a nasty bad human? Cause really, I’m not interested.” “Well,” she said. “He was very bitter.” “Well, duh,” said he, “given you killed him.” “It was the Equestrian atmosphere that killed him,” she said. “It was an unfortunate but inevitable–” “That’s a lie!” Firebrand shouted. “We know what you did. We know that you deliberately spread it! We’ve seen the machines.” For once, Celestia’s face betrayed a sense of shock as her eyes widened. Firebrand noticed this and smiled smugly. “Yeah, you weren’t able to destroy all of them,” he continued. “And we’re going to show it to everypony, until every last one of them knows what you did.” “Sadly,” said Celestia, “what you are doing is technically against both radio and flight regulations. You disrupted the broadcasts of legitimate stations, and I sincerely doubt you got a permit before flying your ship here.” Firebrand’s smug expression promptly dropped. “Fortunately for you and your friends,” continued the princess, “it’s not quite grounds for arrest. I’ll simply clear up your misdemeanor with a warning. Goodbye, Firebrand.” Firebrand’s eyes widened as he saw the princess’s horn begin to glow. “If we find you stirring up trouble in Equestria, your ship will be grounded and you’ll face a bit worse than a mere fine.” “Wait–!” There was a blinding flash of light, and the princess was gone. Firebrand was still on the balcony of his ship. He blinked, trying to figure out what had just happened. However, when he looked out from the balcony, he found that they were no longer in Canterlot, but were instead surrounded on all sides by the sea. - Princess Celestia returned to the castle and was greeted by her guards. “Your majesty!” the guard said. “What happened?” “I simply moved them out of the way,” she said. “Just some hot-headed young ponies. I... hope they’ll grow out of it.” “But still, what if they come back?” “Well, then perhaps we should send out an order for all town police departments in Equestria. Tell them to keep a lookout for a white zeppelin, particularly if there are reports of pirate radio. If anything comes up the ship is to be grounded and its crew detained. And then send word back here.” - Firebrand was still fuming. He marched back into the ship’s corridor, brushing by a very confused Sweeps yet again on the way to the bridge. “Captain!” said Signal over the intercom. “What happened?” “We aren’t in Canterlot anymore,” said Firebrand. “The princess just twinkled us away.” “Where are we?” “Wish I knew. Just water, water everywhere...” He looked next to him.  Consulting a map and a compass on panel next to him proved fairly useless – he had no idea where they were or which direction he could go in. Eventually he decided that the only way to go was forward. He flipped a switch. “Cogs, Bolter, get it running at top speed. We’re going on a trip.” “Aye, aye, cap’n,” responded Bolter. Firebrand took the wheel and steadied the ship as it went on its way over the blue expanse.