//------------------------------//
// Act I - 08 - Someone Saved My Life Tonight 
// Story: Harmony's Warriors: X-Questrians First Class 
// by Avenging-Hobbits 
//------------------------------//


Act I:
“In the Beginning”

Chapter Eight:
“Someone Saved My Life Tonight”




Carrot swum up to the boat, peering up at the large, white ship floating in front of him. It was the yacht that griffin had mentioned back in Smaugton. The Tempest. It had taken a bit of digging, but Carrot had finally managed to find and interrogate a dock worker who provided him with the dock number where Gustav always kept his boat. The dock worker had been surprisingly cooperative, but deep down, Carrot knew it was most likely because no one he’d met so far had particularly enjoyed being pinned to a bathroom wall by random metal. On his head, sitting loosely, was a relatively unadorned red helmet. Carrot took a moment to adjust it slightly, making sure it stayed on.

From the aft end of the yacht, he could make out the sound of talking, the characteristic accent of Gustav being the more prominent voice, while another, Albion-accented voice would interject a word every so often.

Good, he’s distracted. Carrot thought as he grabbed the looped rope at his side and tossed it up onto the deck. He was quick to reach a hoof out to levitate the metal hook at the end in the air for a moment, before carefully concentrating with all his might on making sure the hook caught on the railing without any noise. The hook had been unexpectedly heavy in his grip, and he cursed himself for not spending more time to hone his abilities. No doubt with more training, he would have been able to manipulate the hook much easier.

However, regardless of his degree of control, the hook had successfully attached itself to the railing, and Carrot tugged on the rope, wanting to be sure that it was secure. He smiled slightly at the affirmation of the rope’s security.

Time to get to work, he thought, as he began to pull himself up the rope, out of the water and up the side of the ship. After much effort, he finally was able to wrap his hoof around the railing and hefted himself over the railing. He landed with a loud grunt and slam onto the oakwood deck, letting out a groan of pain. He shook his head, standing up to readjust the helmet on his head.

Note to self: Add more padding to interior of helmet, he thought, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to soothe the ache he now had. Apparently though, the conversation Gustav was having had gone uninterrupted, all the noise of Carrot’s boarding seemingly unnoticed.

Taking a breath to steady his nerves, Carrot began to walk forward slowly, pulling out the small, yet sharp, knife he had packed with him. He wasn’t quite sure how exactly he’d finally kill Gustav, but he figured the simplest method would be the best, and there were few ways simpler then a knife to the throat.

The sounds of conversation grow louder as Carrot quietly slinked along the deck, knife at the ready. He cocked an ear, carefully listening to the on-going conversation.



////////////////////////////



Angel shifted to get slightly more comfortable next to Gustav, as the griffin, Mr. Crate and Mr. Aleister continued to talk about the gem that seemed to be their sole focus this evening. 

"Well, to be honest, Aleister, I do find the risk of going to Zebrica one worth taking. After all, fate favors the bold. Am I right Crafty?" Gustav said, turning towards Crafty Crate, who nodded slightly.

"Yeah, I think it’s worth it. I mean, I've heard they've got vibranium coming out the wazoo. Even if we can't find the gem, we can just take a couple hundred pounds of vibranium and sell that."

"Well, Mr. Crate, you promised that the information you had was legitimate. I, for one, do not wish to pointlessly risk my life for a simple purple rock," Gustav countered, shaking a talon. “While vibranium is certainly worth a pretty penny, it’s absolutely useless to someone who’s dead.”

"Well, we’ve got Mr. A right here. He’s a stripey, so they'll probably let him in. Get some papers done up, and boom, in we go without so much as a second look.”

Aleister, who had remained silent, let out a snort, glaring towards Crafty dismissively.

"Mr. Crate, you are a fool to believe that merely because I bear the same coloration of these zebras they would share camaraderie with me. They are close minded, elitist buffoons who think only of themselves."

“And what’s that make you, Ace?” Crafty accused.

"Aleister, please. We both knew we’d have to set aside what we most despise about the other when you were invited here, did we not? And whether we like it or not, we are all in the same boat," Gustav lifted up his glass, stifling a chuckle at his bad joke, seemingly readying a toast. “As such, would it not benefit us more to be allies rather than enemies, however reluctant our collective dalliance may be?” He halted, however, as a nose caught everyone’s ears. Gustav’s head whipped towards the sound, and everyone, Angel included, turned to look in the direction Gustav was looking, and were greeted by the sight of a tall, somewhat thin yellow stallion wearing a red helmet, his expression vengeful.

“Who the fuck is this?” Crafty Crate shouted. Aleister’s expression seemed more intrigued than surprised.

“Well!” Gustav set his drink down and clasped his talons together. “It has been awhile now hasn’t it, Carrot?” Gustav asked aloud, moving to stand up. The stallion however, shot his arm out, causing a knife to come flying in front of Gustav, who looked down at it for a second before refocusing his attention on Carrot. “My word! You have grown so much sense the last time we met! How are you, my boy? I do hope you haven’t dwelled too much on what happened between me and your mother. It wasn’t anything personal. Have you been eating well? You do seem a bit skinny--”

“Shut. Up.” the stallion growled, and Gustav merely smiled, tilting his head slightly and raising an eyebrow. Angel could already tell he was most likely attempting to twist the stallion’s perception, as Gustav would habitually tilt his head in such a manner whenever he saw fit to mess with her own perception. However, the stallion’s expression remained unchanged.

“Your tricks don’t work on me anymore, Gustav! I thought ahead,” The stallion replied, holding his head up slightly as he spoke, seemingly drawing attention to the helmet on his head. Gustav glanced up at the helmet, and Angel could see his expression sour noticeably. She slid away ever so slightly, fearful of what the griffin might do now that his patience was running low. The one thing Angel feared most was Gustav’s temper. While it might seem to outsiders that Gustav was an amiable fellow, Angel knew that, at the drop of a hat, he could explode in a volcanic eruption of anger. More often than not, defiance against him seemed to be a berserk button for him, as Angel found out personally early on. The very thought made her subconsciously rub one of her bruises.

However, instead of the dreaded eruption of anger or violence that Angel feared, Gustav’s sour expression evaporated into the aether, instead being replaced an incredibly warm, almost saccharine smile. He leaned forward, motioning to the contents of the table in front of him.

“Well, in that case Carrot, why not sit down and enjoy some food. I baked it myself, you know,” he said, shifting forwards slightly. “You do seem as thin as a rake, after all, and I’m sure it took quite a bit of energy and work to find me here, since I’m not exactly in any of the local phone books.” His tone was fatherly, as if the unknown stallion were some kind of lost child of his. Angel looked towards the stallion, who only seemed to have grown angrier at Gustav’s suggestion. “Enjoy yourself! You are on my private yacht, after all! Stop being so dour.”

“I’ll enjoy myself once you're dead. Gustav.” He spat back, levitating the knife forwards towards Gustav, who merely looked down at it with bemusement. Aleister stood up unexpectedly, leaning down to pick up his teacup.

“Oh Carrot, why so serious? Have you never taken the time to simply have fun?” Gustav asked the stallion, before pausing to look at Aleister. “Aleister where are you going?”

“I don’t wish to be dragged into whatever melodramatic event is going on betwixt you two, so, if you’ll excuse me,” Aleister answered as he started towards the cabin across from them. “I shall be below deck reading and guarding the investment.”

Gustav however, held up a talon. “Now hold on friend! You haven’t been properly introduced to my young companion,” he said, standing up slowly and motioning towards the now visibly confused yellow stallion. “Aleister, I want you to meet Carrot. He’s that student of mine I was talking about.”

Aleister looked towards the yellow stallion, who shot a suspicious glare back at him. Aleister blinked, seemingly unimpressed.

“Hello there. Whatever business is between you and Gustav is your own,” he said bluntly, only causing Carrot to narrow his eyes. Aleister looked over at the knife, arching an eyebrow slightly. “I will admit that’s an impressive talent you have,” he noted, “And apparently without any magical aid either…” he narrowed his eyes slightly, revealing a begrudging smirk of respect. “Most impressive. I see why Gustav was so adamant about your kind. Mutant, yes?”

Carrot simply blinked, his expression a mixture of confusion, frustration and surprise. Aleister’s expression seemed analytical, before the old zebra shrugged.

“Well, whatever you are, I care not of your motivations for being here. I myself am just here for the tablet. I suggest you allow me to go on my way, since really, I don’t wish to fight you. I’m getting old, and honestly, the mana drain to give me energy wouldn’t be worth the exhaustion afterwards. Good evening.” And with that, the zebra walked away, opening the door to the cabin and closing it behind him, leaving the others all awkwardly standing alone on the deck.

Gustav broke the silence by clapping his talons together. “Well, I do believe Aleister did make a valid point. This conversation is really between me and our young knife -wielding friend. Crafty,” he looked at Crafty, who turned towards him, having been staring at Carrot in utter confusion for the past five minutes or so. Gustav motioned towards Angel, who was now looking towards Crafty with a look of intense apprehension.

“Now, I want you to go and take Angel with you. You two are free to enjoy each other’s company until you feel you're satisfied,” he leaned down, putting a talon on Angel’s shoulder.

“Now dearie, don’t be worried. Just do that little trick you do with your wings, and he’ll probably be happy,” he whispered, giving Angel a possessive pat on the shoulder and gentle squeeze, which only made her feel more uncomfortable and exposed. She could tell that Crafty was obviously aroused, if his flexing wings were any indication. She felt her stomach flip flop slightly, and looked at Gustav pleadingly.

“A-are you su-sure, Gustav?”

Gustav’s response was simply his grip tightening on her shoulder, enough to make her cry out involuntarily. Gustav’s smile darkened, taking on a more possessive and domineering aura as he seemingly enjoyed her cry of pain.

“Yes. I am quite sure Angel,” he said, putting extra emphasis on her name. “Now, go entertain our guest like a good hostess, or shall I have to subject you to some more… persuasive forms of punishment?” As he spoke, Angel felt a burning sensation run along the exposed area of her wings, feeling as if someone were injecting acid into the veins. She bolted up out of the chair, taking the hint and scampering to Crafty’s side, head held submissively down as she beckoned him to follow.

“Co-come with me Mr. Crate,” she murmured, opening her insectoid wings for emphasis, and Crafty turned to follow, seemingly now even more interested in her. He glanced over his shoulder towards Gustav, giving him a questioning look. Gustav simply beckoned for him to follow and the two ponies left, leaving the griffin and Carrot alone.

Carrot, simply watched in shock as the obviously dominated mare disappeared into the cabin, followed closely by the lecherous pegasus, having not spoken a word. He turned to Gustav slowly, his resolve returning.

“What did you do to her?” he hissed, stalking around the griffin, making sure to keep his distance, lest Gustav try something unexpected. Gustav merely shrugged, pouring himself another glass of whiskey.

“Oh Carrot, don’t play foolish with me. You know exactly what I did,” he wiggled his talons playfully as he spoke, seemingly taking pleasure out of the thought of molesting someone obviously helpless. “I just made sure my little Angel followed her orders like a good girl. You know I’m not one for disobedience. If she simply did what I had asked without question, you wouldn’t had to have suffered that sight. Now,” he poured an extra glass of whiskey. “My turn to ask the questions. What I want to know is, where did you find that wonderfully unique helmet of yours?”

Carrot narrowed his eyes. “That’s none of your business you--”

“‘Monster?’” Gustav interjected, cutting Carrot off. Carrot simply set his jaw.

“Bastard.”

“Ah. Are those the only things you can call me?” Gustav replied, tilting his head slightly. “It’s been at least ten years, and that’s all you can come up with? I am, quite frankly, offended. I’d suspect that you would come up with something far more colorful,” he chuckled. Carrot felt his anger well up again. Gustav was openly mocking him, just sitting there, a massive, self-centered grin on his face.

Well, no more smiling. Carrot thought in a rage, letting out a yell and charging towards Gustav. Gustav however, spun on his heel and landed what seemed like a flick of the finger directly into Carrot’s jaw, sending the thin colt sprawling and his helmet bouncing off. Gustav then strode over, shaking his talon theatrically.

“Oh now look, Carrot, you made me hurt myself. Shame on you.” He leaned down and picked up the helmet, examining it closely for a moment. “Hmm… nifty little thing, I must admit. But alas, I’m going to have to keep it with me. Can’t give you an unfair advantage now can I?”

Carrot let out a groan, shaking his head as he stood up slowly, trying to regain his sense of balance after being hit by what felt like a wrecking ball.

“Oh? Disoriented are we? Wondering why I was able to so easily deflect you without any preparation or effort?” Gustav asked overdramatically, before kicking the still dizzy Carrot to the ground again.

“I like to call it ‘Kinetic Absorption and Redistribution’,” Gustav stated proudly, puffing his chest out. “And honestly, I don’t like to use it, as it tends to cause quite a bit of unwanted property damage. I mean, look at all that blood you’ve managed to smear there. Do you realize I’ll now need to pay somepony to come clean it, and scrub it. After that, I’ll need to have the deck get a new coat of varnish. Quite simply, it’s not worth my time, nor my money, really,” he sighed, pulling out a cloth from his jacket pocket and leaning down to condescendingly wipe away some stray blood on the corner of Carrot’s mouth. As he did so, his eyes lit up and he reached out to grab a small, blood stained white object.

“Oh look! A tooth! Now I’ll have to pay dental.” Gustav added with a sigh, before standing up, looking down at his watch. “Oh, well, look at the time. I think I have to retire. I’ll leave you with Marie, she’ll take good care of you okay?” he then took a breath, putting his talons to his beak and letting out a sharp whistle. Carrot was greeted by the sight of a puff of red smoke, clearing to reveal a rather tall, blood red earth pony with a brown mane done up in curlers. It gave him no comfort to see the large axe that was emblazoned on her flank.

“Let me guess, you need me to kill this guy?” the mare asked, arching an eyebrow. Gustav shrugged slightly. “Cause I was kinda hoping to hit the hay.” she added, pointing to her mane.

“Well, I do apologize for interrupting your evening, but he should be easy to deal with. Just do whatever you feel is appropriate,” he said, arching an eyebrow slightly. “It shouldn’t take you long.” He then idly wiped his talons, looking down at the battered Carrot and giving him one last, shiningly sadistic smile. “You two have fun now!” he chirped, turning and walking away, happily whistling a random tune. He paused halfway through the doorway.

“Oh, and Marie, just remember to clean up after yourself. The deck is filthy enough as it is.”

And with that, he slammed the door behind him. Carrot, who had finally managed to get back onto his feet in the interim, made a rush towards the door, only to have the red mare appear in front of him in an explosion of thick red smoke. Carrot swung a fist out to punch her, but she merely poofed away, before appearing directly behind him and wrapping her arms around his neck in an incredibly tight deathgrip.

“Hey buddy, where you going?” she purred, her breath hot on his ear. Carrot jabbed into her violently, and she let out a weird, almost pleasured yelp.

“Oh?! A fighter are ya?” she let out a giggle before dropping her voice at least an octave, turning it into a deep, predatory growl. “I love a fighter.”

Carrot’s eyes widened as the red mare started to choke him out slowly. Just as he was about to fall unconscious however, there was the loud sound of a fog horn. The sociopathic mare’s grip suddenly went slack, giving Carrot a chance to take a heaving breath of air. He heard her swear something unintelligibly before her grip tightened again.

“You know, I was gonna snap your neck or something, but now I’m just gonna chuck you into the harbor. I would just like to say that I think you probably would have made a killer fuck, but I kinda like staying out of prison, so I’m going to have to cut this short.”

There was another explosion of red smoke, and the next thing Carrot knew, he was tumbling through the air head-over-heels, landing into the water with a painful crash.



////////////////////////////



Gustav walked into the small, yet elegant library aboard ship, catching sight of Aleister, seemingly absorbed in studying the tablet.

“Aleister, I suggest you wait until we’re put out to sea to continue your research. Now is the time to rest and prepare for the journey ahead.”

“I am preparing, Gustav. Now let me work in peace,” Aleister responded bluntly, and Gustav let out a bitter chuckle, bemused at the zebra’s apparent obsessiveness. He moved along the bookcase, pondering which book to read while he waited for Angel to be done with Crafty Crate. After all, he was simply allowing Mr. Crate the pleasure of her company for possibly an hour or so and Angel was his property after all, which meant that, if the need should arise, he would gleefully interrupt whatever it was the two were doing to reclaim her. But, he always prided himself on being a good host, so why interrupt?

He pulled a book off the shelf, and walked over to another chair, readying himself to sit down. Under his wing he still had the helmet Carrot had been wearing, and Gustav was keen to understand what could have possibly blocked his powers. It was then that Marie appeared, looking noticeably alarmed.

“Gustav! We’ve gotta go right now!” she said, trotting up to him quickly. Gustav gave her an asides glance as he went about fluffing a pillow for the chair.

“Why Marie? What has gotten you so ruffled?” he asked, sitting down and opening the book.

“It’s the cops. They’re coming this way right now. They’ve got a boat and everything,” Marie answered, pointing towards the cabin window. Gustav leaned towards the window, peering through it to see a police boat was indeed coming their way. Of particular interest to him though, was the bright purple light shining from the bridge.

“Oh hello there, Twilight,” he muttered, before cracking his knuckles. He looked up at Marie, who was still looking rather flustered. “Well Marie, it seems it’s time to go mobile don’t you think? Go fetch Angel and Crafty, while I get the sub ready.” He then turned towards Aleister, who had stopped reading and now looked at Gustav with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“Aleister, your research shall have to be delayed until we’re in a safer, less policed location. Take the tablet and follow me,” he ordered, standing up and already moving towards the door. Aleister tilted his head.

“Follow you? Where?” the zebra asked incredulously, causing Gustav to halt in the doorway and lower his eyebrows in frustration.

“All will be revealed. Just follow and you’ll see,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice cordial even though deep down, he wanted to fling the old coot across the room. Would it kill the zebra to just follow an order?

Aleister rolled his eyes, picking up the tablet and his notebook, muttering the whole while as he grudgingly followed Gustav below decks. Gustav lead him through several passageways and corridors, before ending up at what looked like an elevator door.

“Who has an elevator on a ship?” Aleister asked, looking up at Gustav with a critical eye. Gustav huffed slightly, not even bothering to answer as he slapped the button rather fiercely, causing it to pop off. The doors slid open and Gustav beckoned Aleister to step inside.

“It’s a dumbwaiter, and If you please. Age before looks,” he stated. Aleister simply gave him a mildly annoyed look before stepping inside, Gustav following soon after. With a gentle ping, the small dumbwaiter came to a stop and the doors opened to reveal the cramped interior of a submarine. Gustav felt his pride swell at the sight of a shocked Aleister, finally having managed to impress the zebra.

“Welcome aboard Ægir, my friend. She is my personal submarine, and shall be our mobile base for the foreseeable future. And before you ask, it seems our mutual foe has managed to locate us.”

“Which one? Armor?” Aleister asked, stepping inside the submarine and looking for someplace to sit. Gustav shook his head.

“No, sadly not. This time it’s the younger sibling. Sparkle.”

Aleister gave Gustav a knowing nod. “I see. That is worth extra precaution. She surely a skilled mage"

“Indeed. Did you sense the mental probe as well? She’s either developed a new spell, or she’s brought along a friend.” Gustav added, causing Aleister to raise an eyebrow.

“A psychic? Without the aid of magic? That sounds impossible.”

Gustav merely gave Aleister a brief glare before speaking, “Coming from you, the belief of anything being impossible seems rather hypocritical, does it not?”

Aleister opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Marie, who had brought a noticeably disheveled Crafty Crate and Angel along with her.

“Found them in the middle of a good sounding fu-”

“I don’t need to know the details, thank you Marie. Just ready the sub for departure,” Gustav ordered, and he walked over to Angel, putting a wing over her shoulder. He felt her body tighten, and he could already tell that her and Crafty had been rather… active.

“I take it you enjoyed Angel, Mr. Crate?”

Crafty Crate nodded slightly, obviously distracted by the submarine around him. “Um… yeah, yeah she was great. Nice and tight.”

Gustav gave Crafty a thin smile. “I see. Good for you. And Angel, how are you feeling?”

Angel simply nodded mutely, looking down at the ground submissively. Gustav gave her a tap on the back with his wing before stepping over to the single chair that sat in the center of the camber. He slid into it, before pulling Carrot’s helmet from under his wing and placing it on his lap. He motioned for Marie to take her place at the helm, and she gave him the go sign.

“Alright then! Everyone? Let us depart,” Gustav said proudly, leaning back into his seat slightly, confidant that the path ahead was clear sailing.



////////////////////////////



“Is that a submarine?”

The sound of Fleur’s astonished voice caused Cupcake to open her eyes and look towards the water. She gasped as she caught sight of the dark outline of what was obviously a submarine, barely visible by the moonlight, cutting smoothly through the bay water. She caught Twilight’s head whipping around to illuminate the area of water were Fleur was pointing.

“Miss Silverhoof? Do you happen to still have a lock on our target?” Agent Sparkle called out in the tone that Cupcake associated with teacher’s who knew her homework wasn’t done. Nothing in the purple unicorn’s tone betrayed anything resembling shock at the sight, and her mind didn’t project anything noticeable either. Sparkle was apparently very skilled in containing her thoughts. That or secret submarine escapes weren’t such a rarity in spy work.

Cupcake shut her eyes again and reached out to reacquire Gustav’s thoughts, reflexively putting her hoof on her temple gently. The reception was somewhat spotty, but clear enough to get a picture of what he was doing.

“Um, yes, I found him,” She answered, scrunching her face slightly.

“And where is he?” Twilight asked, her voice still the same tone as before.

Cupcake answered quickly, “He’s sitting in the captain’s chair of the submarine.” That was a sentence I never expected to say, she mused internally, opening her eyes to briefly glance towards Agent Sparkle.

Agent Sparkle nodded, and she cupped her hooves to her mouth. “Follow the sub! Get the hooks ready for deployment and prepared for boarding! This is the real deal everypony, so expect plenty of hostilities on that ship,” she barked to the host of agents and sailors who were sent scurrying behind them. Cupcake could feel their thoughts of excitement and apprehension pressing on every corner of her brain and she winced. 

“Don’t lose your aim on the target,” Agent Sparkle said firmly, giving Cupcake a quick pat on the back as she briskly trotted by, apparently more focused on other duties.

Cupcake merely nodded, not quite sure how she appreciated being spoken to like a weapon. Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t sure she felt comfortable with her ability being referenced like something lethal at all.

I think I’ll turn down any other spy missions. There’s gotta be a less violent use for my--

--FUCK--  

Cupcake’s train of thought was blindsided, feeling as if her head had been waylaid by a metal bat. She let out a gasp as she doubled over, gripping her head in her hooves. The thought blindsided Cupcake like a baseball bat to her skull. All the other thoughts--Gustav, his party, Fleur, Agent Sparkle and the rest of the agents--were utterly consumed like candles in an inferno in the wake of the thoughts that now invaded her brain.

They swarmed through her head in a screeching frenzy of hysteria and outrage. Images rushed across her mind; creatures and cities and the emotions fused to them pulsed through her so strong she felt like she could taste them. Only two faces kept recurring: an orange mare’s that was either happy or horrified but always tired and Gustav’s, always smiling cruelly. 

It all probably happened in the space of a few seconds--no more than five most likely--but when the thoughts abruptly released her and Cupcake gasped as if she had broken the surface of water, she felt as if she had been held under the weight of twenty five years’ worth of memories and emotions.

Cupcake blinked, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it. Her mind felt oddly hollow, as if something or someone had scooped out everything. Her own thoughts--What the hell was that?--echoed in her mind like a voice in a stadium. She simply blinked a few times, the words she wanted to say not quite forming.

“Cupcake! Dear Celestia! Are you alright?!” Fleur gasped, and Cupcake turned to see her taking hold of Cupcake’s arm to steady her. Cupcake rubbed her temple, nodding ever so slightly.

“Ms. Silverhoof, are you injured?” Agent Sparkle asked, standing on the other side of Cupcake, taking hold of her other arm to steady her. Before Cupcake had a chance to respond, the panicked thoughts from before once more exploded into her brain, causing her to bolt up and rush over to the boat rail, voicing the first thought that came to her mind.

“He’s drowning!”

Fleur titled her head, running up to Cupcake and attempting to catch her attention. “Cupcake what are you talk-”  

“He’s going to die!” Cupcake repeated, pointing towards the water as she ran along the railing, trying desperately to grab onto the bursts of panicked thought she was picking up.

“Ms. Silverhoof, step away from the-”

Cupcake ignored the rest of Sparkle’s sentence, instead mentally blocking out every other noise and funneling every ounce of her focus on finding the source of the thoughts. Her brow furrowed tightly, she finally managed to find the tiny thread of thought and grab onto it.

Him. It’s a him. Carrot. His name is Carrot.

The mysterious pony’s thoughts were no longer calling out in panic but were now aimed in a spear of boiling rage, driving everything into a single effort.

Pulling the submarine. 

Wha?? Was the only independent thought that Cupcake could muster.

“Ms. Silverhoof, what’s going on?” Agent Sparkle’s hoof gripped Cupcake’s shoulder, tight enough to draw some of Cupcake’s focus away from Carrot and over to the purple unicorn.

“He’s trying to stop the submarine!” she cried, trying to push Agent Sparkle’s hoof away and focus on Carrot again. “He’s trying to stop the-”

“Gustav?” Fleur and Agent Sparkle asked in unison, Fleur’s tone being one of confusion and Sparkle’s one of frustration. 

“No! Carrot!” Cupcake countered, pointing a hoof towards the water. “Carrot is trying to stop the sub!”

“A carrot is trying to stop Gustav’s submarine?” Agent Sparkle asked, lowering her eyebrows. “That’s the most-”

“And who the fuck is Carrot?” came Fleur’s response.

Cupcake felt Carrot’s thoughts waver suddenly, and she spun around, once more disregarding the other two. She was vaguely aware of their rather frustrated/confused thoughts, but ignored them.

He’s drowning again. 

The stallion was holding onto the submarine--he wasn’t touching it, he simply was reaching out and calling it back to him--and it was dragging him beneath the surface. The alarms in his mind were already blaring that his lungs were empty but he only poured the burning in them into his effort, every extremity and all his energy was bent towards the submarine. 

Stop! Stop you’re drowning! Cupcake involuntarily called out with her mind and she felt his thoughts shudder slightly but they did not pay any heed.

“I’m too far away!” she said aloud, shaking her head in increasing panic. “He can’t hear me. He. Can’t. Hear me!” 

“Who??” Fleur almost shouted in her ear.

“Stop the ship or we’ll run him over!” Cupcake cried, only to feel herself spun around and being greeted by Agent Sparkle’s face shoved into hers.

“Miss Silverhoof, listen to me,” Sparkle said, grabbing a hold of Cupcake’s chin to keep their faces level and her voice taking on a commanding aura. Her eyes so hard and determined that Cupcake instantly was at attention. “What, in the name Luna’s luscious Equestria, are you talking about!?”

When Cupcake opened her mouth to speak, Sparkle almost instantly put a hoof to it and added, “ Cupcake! Use your words! Think about what you’re going to say first.” 

Cupcake hesitated, her heart ricocheting in her ribcage and Carrot’s thoughts still burning like a coal in her mind, but she inhaled deeply and attempted to speak as steadily as she could manage.

“There is a stallion in the water with Gustav’s submarine. He is trying to stop it from submerging but is being dragged under. He is going to drown if we don’t do something.” she said, her voice still somewhat unsteady.

“You can hear him?” Sparkle asked, motioning to Cupcake’s head. “Up in here?”

Cupcake nodded. “Yes.” She could catch a flicker of a smile go across Agent Sparkle’s face for a fraction of a second, and the mare’s expression relaxed ever so.

“Okay, good. Now, who is he and what’s his name?”

“His name is Carrot and his mother died--Gustav killed her--and he’s trying to kill him but it’s taken five years and this might be his last chance but he’s drowning we need to-” Cupcake’s increasingly run together and panicked dialogue was once again halted by Agent Sparkle’s hoof.

“Calm down, Miss Silverhoof and speak slow-” Agent Sparkle didn’t have a chance to finish, as Cupcake shook her head violently.

“No! No! I can’t! He’s drowning! he’s going to die we need to do something!”  

Sparkle took a breath, obviously running low on patience. “If you explain what is happening clearly-”

“I am speaking clearly!” Cupcake practically screamed. “Why aren’t you paying attention?! Can’t you hear him?!” 

Again, as if summoned, Carrot’s thoughts flared in her head:

--I’M DYING--

Cupcake, as if on impulse, threw herself over the rail of the boat and hit the icy water with a crash.



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I’M DYING.

Carrot could feel his lungs shriveling from lack of oxygen and he knew in the next second his body would rebel against his will and focus on involuntarily inhaling all the seawater it could fit into his lungs. And then he would drown.

Gustav will escape. Gustav will win.

Carrot felt his jaw grind.

No. I won’t drown. He won’t escape.

He called up the image of his hoof slamming into Gustav’s face--the griffins blood spewing out from the splinters of his skull and that sick glee draining from his eyes to be replaced by the marvelous, beauteous emptiness of death--and he poured the power of it into his focus and kept pulling.

He felt something like drowsiness clawing at the edges of his mind but he dismissed it. His lungs were going to rip open but he ignored them. His muscles felt like wax in fire but he refused to give in.

I will win. 

I’m dying.

I WILL WIN.

...I’m dying...

“STOP!”

The voice materialized Carrot’s brain and immediately he felt two arms coil about him, one around his throat and the other his shoulders. Did that red bitch have him again? With that thought in mind he reached his forelegs behind him and tried to grab at whatever had hold of him but either oxygen deprivation or simply the confusion of being under the water in the pitch black made him barely able to manage to direct his arms much less take hold of anything. He felt his body lifting upwards (at least he thought it was upwards) and the grip around him tightening. It all felt like a very accurate depiction of his panic at the moment. He started to thrash, swiping his legs through the water that now felt thick as blood and so dark he couldn’t even tell now if his eyes were open or closed.

“Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. You need to relax.”

That voice was in his head again, so serene. It was like a soft, steady hoof being run over his mind, smoothing out all the anxiety like rumples in a cloth. It slowed his heart rate down from a rapid fire to a languid pump and even though he could still feel his flesh and bones rising he felt everything inside him sinking like silt. It was as if his mind was leaving his body. 

“See that’s it. Just relax your body. We’re almost there.”

Carrot could feel the voice working, pressing on one nerve of his brain and then the other, playing him like a piano. And he didn’t like it. It was like when Gustav used to throw images of his mother before his eyes or the doctors used to work on him, puncturing all his pressure points like he was a machine to wind up with emotion and then let run until his steam was spent. 

Stop touching me.

“Shhh just wait one more second-”

Stop. Touching. ME!

Carrot reared, bending his back as far as his spine would allow and he felt the back of his skull slam into something very solid--most likely a forehead. The voice vaporized and he felt the arms around him jerk but they did not release him. Just at that moment his head broke the surface and for a moment he was stunned as the freezing air flooded his lungs like a torrent of sweet needles. The light from the moon, boats and docks flashed in his eyes. He gaped and gasped, blinking like a newborn, and let the waves buoy him as his head spun like a pinwheel with the sudden return of oxygen. 

As his senses began to return Carrot again became aware of the weight on his back and the arms still firmly set around him. This was almost certainly not the red bitch since that mare had not only shown no ability pertaining to mind fuckery, but also the crazed mare would have teleported them out of the water by now. 

Well at least that means I’ll have a chance to strangle this one. 

Carrot, now capable of seeing the arms around him, grabbed them and pulled them off his body, simultaneously twisting around to face his captor. But as soon as he managed to remove the arms and turn, his attacker disappeared under the water like a stone. 

“Oh no, you don’t,” he snarled, reaching under the inky waves and grasping at what felt like wet yarn. He heaved the creature up--even with the added weight of the water it didn’t feel all that heavy--and was met with the sputtering face of--

A mare. A blue faced, pink eyed and maned mare, coughing up mouthfuls of sea water in his face.

“The fuck?” he said aloud, his eyes wide. 

The mare’s eyes focused on him--very large and clear, they reminded him of well-cut gems--and said, “My names Cup--”

That voice. Carrot felt himself flinch--it matched the one that had been in his mind. His grip on her mane tightened and he gave her the firmest shake he could manage, what with trying to tread water and keep her head above it as well.

“Who are you? Did Gustav send you?” he spat.

“No, no!” The mare cried, her eyes growing frantic. “I’m not here with Gustav. I’m here for him--I mean I’m after him like you, well not exactly like you. Carrot-”

Carrot’s eyes bulged. “How do you know my name? How far did you go in my head?”

The mare gasped in pain and grabbed his hoof that was holding onto her mane. “You’re hurting me!”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t tell me what you were doing in my head!” Carrot growled in response, tightening his grip for emphasis.

The mare’s eyes suddenly shut tightly and Carrot hear her voice in his head again.

"Let me go."

Carrot suddenly felt his arm grow heavy and weak and her mane began to slip through his grip. 

“No!” He shook his head and tried to resist, pushing back against the willingness that was coursing through his body, the surrender. 

“Yes.”  Her voice was different now, commanding and cold. “Let me go, Carrot. Right now.”

He couldn’t stop it, his grip loosed like melting wax and the mare fell back under the water. The voice was now gone but Carrot felt the aftereffects, like the shivering of muscles after running for too long. He felt like he was snapped out of a trance when the voice appeared again in his head:

“Help! Help!”

She can’t breathe, his conscious screamed and he immediately reached under the water and pulled her back out, this time by her coat. She gasped and coughed again, wrapped her hooves around his arm like a lifeline. 

Her voice was gone again and he suddenly felt the urge to shove her away. Let the damn mind fucker drown, a part of his mind hissed.

But just as he was about to make good on that impulse, her voice came--out of her mouth this time--soft and shivery, “T-thank you.”

And something in her tone, how small and spooked she sounded, and how she held onto him like he was the only thing between her and the maws of some vicious monster and yet still how weak her hold was that he could have simply shook it off, made him instead pull her closer, trying to heft her farther away from the reach of the waves.

And of course they both started to sink almost instantly. Sentimentality gets you every time. 

The mare yelped and twisted around, throwing her arms around his neck. 

Ahh shi--

A wave cut off his thought and their air supply momentarily before another one shoved them back to the surface.

“Listen,” Carrot said, hoping he could be understood around a mouthful of water. Apparently not, because the mare pressed herself closer and they went under again for it. 

Carrot gave a sort of internalized shiver and they thought as hard as he could: “Listen to me, listen to my voice.”

He right away felt a response, not a word or even her voice but he could feel the presence of her ability like a spotlight in his brain. 

“You have got to let me go. I can hold you but if you keep holding me we’ll both drown. So let me go and I’ll keep you up.”

There was a brief hesitation and then the mare’s arms pulled away. Carrot put his right around her middle and with vicious kicks brought them both to the surface again.  

“Now just stay relaxed. I can keep you above the water.”

The mare obeyed and remained utterly motionless as Carrot started half-swimming, half-treading towards the docks. After about eight strokes, less than a quarter of the way to the closest boat, he was nearly spent.

“Dear Celestia, do you have rocks in your pockets?”

“... It might be my jacket. And the wool sweater underneath. And my extra shirt.”

Carrot sighed--he almost swallowed a mouthful of water--and paused. 

“Take them off, you’re too heavy.”

The mare unbuttoned her jacket and Carrot helped her peel it off, tossing it aside to sink beneath the waves. The sweater followed.

“Not the shirt too? I’m freezing,” The mare’s voice inquired. It was starting to sound funny, sluggish and a bit fainter. Carrot tried to keep the word hypothermia from become forefront in his mind.  

“No this is enough. Now just be still."

He was just about to continue towards the docks when the mare said--with her mind-- “... My friend’s aren’t that way..”

Carrot was about to ask what the hell she was talking about when a spotlight suddenly locked onto them, bathing them in a painfully stark whiteness. Carrot squinted and saw Gustav’s yacht approaching them through the water. 

“Remain where you are!” a megaphone amplified voice boomed from the direction of the boat. 

“Cupcake?” another, panicked voice shrieked from the same direction. 

The mare made a faint sort of croak as if in response but didn’t seem to have the energy for anything more.  

Oh great. Hypothermia was now certainly the first thought in Carrot’s mind. 

“Hurry!” he shouted. “She’s freezing in here!”

The yacht was already moving at surprising speed and for a second he thought it might just run them over, but it pulled up beside them instead. It only took a few moments, though what with treading freezing water with a limp mare in his arms Carrot felt like it took quite longer. A life preserver tumbled down the side of the yacht, and Carrot, with two kicks was able to reach and grab it with his free hoof, pulling it over the mare’s head and shoulders before grabbing hold himself. 

“Pull us up!” he shouted and immediately the rope grew taut and they were lifted into the air.  

Carrot realized the mare hadn’t made any sort of response to anything since the yacht had appeared.

“Hey,” he said. The way he was holding onto the life preserver had him directly facing her so she couldn’t have missed his voice but she didn’t answer or seem to hear.

“Hey.”

No response. 

“Hey Cupcake.”

He felt her ability flutter weakly at her name. 

“Don’t fall asleep. You’re almost to your friends.” 

Her eyes, which were glazed and until had been unmoving, twitched slightly and seemed to being trying to focus on him.

“Do you hear me, Cupcake? Almost there. Don’t fall asleep,” Carrot's mind searching for something else to maintain her focus. “Tell me who’s up there so I can tell them what you need.”

“Fleur.”

“Flower?”

“Fleur.”

“Who’s she?”

“Sister.”

“Your sister. What does she look like?”

“Scaly.”

“...What?’

“Blue.”

“Ok, who else?”

“Agent…” Her brow furrowed. “... Dusk?? Sunset?? The sun, it’s leaving when???”

“Ok ok who else?”

“Neighing.” 

“Alright who-”

“You have eyes like your mother.”

Carrot blinked. “What?”

“You look like her. She was very lovely. I’m sorry she’s dead.”

Before Carrot could formulate any response the life preserver reached the rail of the yacht and what felt like a dozen ponies all dressed in variations of black and grey dragged them over it and onto the deck. The was a flurry of confused activity as the life preserver was pried out of his hooves and yanked off the mare, blankets were bound around them so tightly Carrot could barely draw breath, and one strikingly lovely unicorn mare was trying to shove her way towards the mare, crying. “Let me see her. Let me see her!”

The blue mare simply stood, swaying unsteadily on her hooves, and when the crowd finally allowed the older mare to reach her, the mare nearly collapsed into her arms. The unicorn started to babbling incoherently and Carrot wasn’t sure if he was just very tired or in shock but he swore he heard her switch languages at least seven times in nearly as many words. 

But as Carrot felt himself being pushed towards the yacht’s cabin and the voices grew louder and more hurried--something about “shock” and of course “hypothermia”--he heard that now very familiar, soft voice in his head:

“Thank you, Carrot.”