At first there was nothing. Everything was a void, black and formless; there was nothing to smell or see or hear. There was no thought, no awareness, no dreams, and no nightmares. Then came a sound; an impossibly familiar sound followed by a dull numb feeling, weak at first, but coming in dull throbs like a heartbeat along with what sounded like a voice.
“I ….. …. until …. get ….! …… see ……. … how ….. all …. …. you ….”
With the sound of the voice she started to become aware of the pain. Her whole body felt broken and weak, held down by hot shackles of pain that kept her from moving. She strained to listen; something about the voice reminded her of something from a long time ago. A chipper tone of voice with an almost musical touch to it that belonged to a pony she knew in her foalhood.
“Shut up, Pound.”
She was conscious enough to recognize the curt new voice as female, and again it was a tone that reminded her of someone from her past. It was like the voice of Sunflower, the zebra she had been friends with in her youth: brash and unfriendly.
“Yes, please, Pound. Shut up. Why can’t you be like Blank Flank over there and be dead?”
“She’s not dead!” said the chipper tone pony, “She—hey, she moved!”
Apple Bloom fought the hot shackles, fought the pain, and fought every agonized muscle and joint in her body that just wanted to lie down and never move again. She fought and forced her eyes open to be hit by dim yet blinding morning light from a window. Everything was blurry and what little she could see appeared to be a gray ceiling in double-vision spinning lazily.
“She didn’t move, Pound,” said the cynical Sunflower voice, “She took on Rumble; nopony moves after that.”
Lacking the strength to stand she let her head flop to the side and she squinted, trying to find the source of the voices. Her vision was slowly coming together; through the haze she could make out a fuzzy blob in the shape of a pony with a very familiar cotton candy shaped mane. “…Pinkie Pie…?” she slurred, trying to rub the haze from her eyes.
“You know our mom?!” said the chipper tone pony as Apple Bloom’s vision returned to her, revealing the blob to be a young cream-colored stallion with a brown mane that was, at least if memory served her correctly, was identical to that of the pink pony she knew in her youth. He was quickly joined by a pale yellow mare that looped her hooves through the bars to stare as well, a sight which made Apple Bloom realize she was in a jail cell of some kind.
“Pinkie has… kids…?” said Apple Bloom weakly as she rubbed at her head and tried to think through the pain that travelled up and down her body in hot, uneven licks. “Where am Ah…?”
“Prison,” said the yellow mare, revealing her to be the owner of the Sunflower voice. She spoke very matter-of-factly, “I thought you were dead for sure. And Pinkie Pie was only our step-mom.”
“No! She is our mom!” said the stallion as he angrily pounded the bars to emphasize some of his words. “She raised us; she’s our mom!”
“What about our actual parents, Pound?!” snapped the mare, “You always just forget about them and I hate that!”
“We didn’t even know our ‘real; parents, Pumpkin! And you always talk like Mom’s gone and I hate that!”
“She IS gone, Pound! And I hate how gushy you are all the time!”
“And I hate your stupid face!”
“Gelding!”
“Hinny!”
“Oh kiss and make up already!!!” hollered a familiar voice that, even in her weakened state, put Apple Bloom on guard. “I am sick to death of listening to you two idiots argue!”
“Spoon…” hissed Apple Bloom spitefully as she tried to stand but crumpled back to the floor under her own weight. She settled for just turning her head, “‘Bout time someone tossed you in a… cage…?” Apple Bloom trailed off and went quiet at the sight of Spoon’s body. Back in her Coruja days Spoon wore a full body suit and in their last encounter was dressed head to hoof in a hood and full outfit. She hadn’t seen the mare without clothing and now wished she never had; Silver Spoon’s entire body was covered in scars of every shape and size. Stab wounds, slashes, magical burns, what were very clearly a griffon’s talons that had raked her side; it was as if someone had gotten most of the way through carving her into a jack o’ lantern and she escaped. The worst of it by far was her flank: what should have been a cutie mark was nothing but a marbled mess of scarred bald flesh.
“Careful now,” taunted Silver Spoon. “Bet they shot you full of oilroot extract. It’ll keep you alive through pretty much anything but it makes you sick as a dog. I bet it’s the only thing that kept you alive. Gotta hand it to you: fighting Rumble? Brave. Stupid, but real brave.”
Apple Bloom fought the urge to gag, half from the sight of her old enemy’s abused body and half from the uncomfortable notion that she actually found herself pitying the state Silver Spoon was in. “What did you do to yourself, Spoon?” she asked darkly.
“Nothing you wouldn’t have done in my place, Blank Flank,” she said as she patted her missing cutie mark to show she was well aware of the irony, and traced her hoof to the claw mark on her side, “Well, maybe not this one; I just really hate griffons. And this one…” she said with a smug smile as she held up her hoof, showing the scar Apple Bloom left her with in Baía de Corvos, “I really should thank you for, actually. Got me yanked off the lines before the stripes pulled the howitzers out of their bags.” Silver Spoon laid back and let out a sarcastic, nostalgic sigh, “Ah, the good old days… Right, Red-Eye? Maybe you should bring some popcorn for the show?”
Apple Bloom faced the trigger of Silver Spoon’s sudden outburst. It was a pegasus; a raspberry colored mare wearing one of those gray flight suits and, oddly enough, a bow and quiver of arrows slung on her back. “Enjoying the show as it is, thanks,” she said with heavy sarcasm as she removed her red goggles and walked up to lean through the bars to stare right into Apple Bloom. “So… You’re Daddy’s little sister.”
The pegasi’s claim hit her with the force of a brick wall collapsing. Apple Bloom could only stare stupidly while the pegasus smiled insincerely and let the revelation sink in. A rush of strength moved her body and she pulled herself to the bars and managed to raise herself almost to eye level. The pony had her brother’s eyes: big green emeralds partially hidden beneath eyelids that hung lazily on a face dotted with freckles across the bridge of her muzzle. “Why…?” said Apple Bloom weakly.
The pegasus reached through the bars and touched her scarred cheek. “Had a once-off with my old lady,” she said passively.
“Why are you on their side, then?” Apple Bloom said sadly, “They—”
“Killed him,” she finished. “Yep. Him and Auntie Applejack and… whatever the old one’s name was probably just had a heart attack, whatever. But heck, I’d have done it if I had the chance and you as well had Rumble not cut me to the quick.” Her voice was low and steady like Big McIntosh’s, but was dripping with cruelty. “I’ll have to settle for looking into your eyes while you’re still breathing just so you can feel how much I hate you, him and that entire family.”
Anger gave Apple Bloom a burst of speed and strength and she lunged at her niece who reacted quickly enough to jump back out of reach cackling all the way. “Watch how you talk about my family!” spat Apple Bloom. “Whatever fight you had with Big Mac ain’t worth all that, and has nothing to do with me or anyone else!”
“It has everything to do with you,” said the mare in a voice so low and ominous it sounded more like a growl. “You don’t get it, you never will. But it doesn’t matter. Y’see, the Major’s gonna come and put you in your place once and for all. She’ll teach you like I taught the red head: you don’t mess with the R.E.A.F. You are dead, understand?”
“That remains to be seen.”
The lazy Big McIntosh expression vanished from the pegasus’ face. She stepped to the side and kneeled, making room for an entourage of armored guards led by an elegantly dressed pegasus and the same big guard who Apple Bloom had tried to fight. The unicorn, obviously either a royal or a very important person, was studying what Apple Bloom immediately recognized to be the old family photo she kept in her hat and didn’t look up from it as she spoke. “Lieutenant, you have no business to be here. You may leave.”
“By your command, your highness,” said the pegasus in a sycophantic tone as she gave a smug smile and a wink in Apple Bloom’s direction before hurrying down the hall and out of sight.
“This is a good photo,” said the royal pony as she still looked over the image with a faint smile, “It’s your entire family, yes? I always knew your family was large, but who would have known? Oh, is that a little filly Babs Seed? She certainly grew, didn’t she? And your sister… I always liked your sister. She was one of the few ponies in that town who treated my mother with respect.” She lowered the photo and looked through the bars, staring into Apple Bloom with genuine sympathy in her one eye. “I know it’s not any consolation, but I am truly sorry for what happened to your family that night. They were good ponies.” She chuckled nostalgically, “Do you remember the Sisterhooves Social that one year? The one where the two of us and our sisters were tied for the lead? We ended up in the mud-pit and spent so much time wrestling each other to be the first out that little Noi and her sister just jogged right past and took first place? Those… were very good times, weren’t they?”
The photo drifted gently into the cell and into Apple Bloom’s hooves, and she quickly tucked it under the gauze bandage around her leg for safekeeping. She did remember that particular event; she remembered the black eye Applejack ended up with after a stray hoof in the mud pit connected with her face and the pony’s mother, who’s name she couldn’t remember, just kept apologizing over and over and got so worked up over it that Applejack ended up buying her a drink to calm her down. She remembered the filly, though, clear as day since they were somewhat friends in school. “Dinky Doo…” she said in disbelief.
“I still think I died in that tunnel,” chimed Silver Spoon.
“Despite the unpleasant circumstances of our reunion, it is nice to see you again,” said Dinky with a gentle nod and a smile. “Captain, would you please excuse us?” She waited patiently as her entourage left and then took out what was left of Apple Bloom’s repeater, a bent dinted barrel and a splintered handle, and laid it on the ground just outside the cell. “All nostalgia aside, old friend, this is not a social call but a proposal. I have a good deal for you.”
Apple Bloom stared at the remnants of her pistol and felt her lip curl with anger, “What kinda deal?”
“These, um, ‘guns’ as I believe they are called? How long does it take a pony to become at least… ‘able’ with them?”
“Hard to say,” said Apple Bloom, “Ah’ve used it since Ah was a filly.”
“You talent with it certainly shows. It made barbecue of poor Lieutenant Twitch from over a hundred paces from what I hear, and it dented Captain Rumble’s armor. I am not sure if you are aware, but those suits of armor are very durable. Personally I preferred the old gold mail, but it was aluminum foil compared to the black. That black mail is the fruit of extensive research and development: fire resistant, magic resistant, and designed to absorb and displace even the harshest of blows harmlessly across the entire body. Your little trinket here… dinted it.”
“What are you getting at, exactly?”
“I want to know… how interested would you be in instructing our guards on the finer points of using these guns? I want an entire unit of able gunflingers within two months, and if you’re interested the job is yours. Full pardon and release. And… is that the term? ‘Gunflinger?’”
“Gunslinger.”
“Ah, gunslinger. I like the sound of that. So…?”
“Forget it.”
“Apple Bloom, listen.” Dinky swept her hair out of her face giving a clear look at the large eye patch that covered a portion of her face. “Believe me when I say I understand exactly how you feel. I lost my mother and sister that night. There’s more to this than simply wanting you to do a job for us. It would be quite easy to send an emissary overseas to pick up an able gunslinger or two or ten,” she said as she kicked the pieces of the pistol to the side, “We used to be friends, Apple Bloom, and you know what? I like to think we still are. I like to think you are not a bad pony, just in the wrong place at the wrong time. We’re not the bad guys here, even if we do bad things. You are a soldier; you understand concepts like necessary evil and acceptable loss, yes? When it comes right down to it, there are two paths for you to take here. You could be like them,” she said with a note of disgust in her voice as she pointed at Pound and Pumpkin, the former waving with a wink as Dinky spoke, “Living in and obsessed with the past. Always thinking about the way things were, or the way things could have or should have been. So focused on the past that they have no future. Or… you could make the wise choice. You can accept the events that have occurred and walk forward. You could do what I and your cousin Babs Seed have done—”
“Babs?!” sputtered Apple Bloom.
“Oh, yes,” said Dinky with a happy smile. “She’s been with us for a long time now. Nice pony, very clever, one I am happy to call a friend. She… doesn’t get out enough though, I think. Now, I know these years have been hard on you Apple Bloom. So come with me, think about the future, reunite with your family, and do the right thing. What do you say?”
Apple Bloom stared up longingly at the hoof being offered to her; Dinky was reaching through the bars silently offering to help Apple Bloom up with an inviting smile. She thought about it, about everything she had done and seen and been through, and found herself slowly reaching up. She rested her leg in the crook of Dinky’s and eased shakily to her hooves, struggling against her injuries to stand. “You’re right… Ah don’t have a future… Ah’m just lost in the past. And you’re right that us soldiers have done some bad stuff… But you know what…?”
“Yes?”
“Ain’t half as bad as you psychopaths!!!” Apple Bloom hurled herself backward, using her weight to drag Dinky head-first into the bars with a loud resounding clang. The one eyed mare crumpled backward into a heap as a chorus of disbelieving gasps came from the other cells, followed by boisterous laughter from Silver Spoon. “And Ah’m glad your Ma isn’t here to see what you’ve grown into. It’d absolutely break that heart of gold of hers. And Ah’m not your friend.”
A low feral growl came from the royal heap on the floor as she slowly stood, clenching a hoof over her forehead. She glared up with nothing but sheer murderous intent in her eye, but quickly calmed herself and spoke in an eerily calm voice. “It seems I always take blows for being such a generous and loving princess. I do not like to rule over my subjects with fear; I find treating them with much more dignity and respect than they rightfully deserve keeps them in line much better than terrorizing them. Usually it works… and then you get ponies like you two, and that punk with the sword who did this…” she growled as she patted her eye patch, “Curse this ever-magnanimous heart of mine. Very well, we try fear; see how you like this.” An ominous glow surrounded Apple Bloom’s entire body and she was wrenched into the air, left to dangle helplessly for a moment, and finally hurled into the bars with enough force to knock the wind out of her. Dinky watched with a satisfied smirk as Apple Bloom gasped and wretched for breath, “Well,” she said, “How did that feel?”
Apple Bloom spat and coughed with her back slumped against the bars. “Better try it again…” she said weakly, “Ah can still feel my legs…”
More roaring laughter came from Silver Spoon’s cell, accompanied this time by laughter from Pound. “It’s not a good idea to annoy a pony that can think your windpipe shut,” said Dinky, trembling with anger and struggling to be heard over the mocking laughter. “And YOU be quiet!”
“Why not come in for five minutes?” said Spoon as she stifled her laughs and stretched out on the cell floor like a pony in a center fold. “You aren’t the first princess I’ve clobbered… Oh, wait. Yes. You ARE. Should’ve heard her squeal, Blank Flank! You would have loved it the most! It was like a pig, being slaughtered for supper. Oh yeah, you’ve never heard that sound have you, y’know, Easterner and all. It’s this real high pitched—”
“ENOUGH!!!” hollered the princess with a loud stomp of her hoof, “Captain!” The big pony from before reentered the room, taking his place beside her and showing only minimal interest in the visible lump on the princess’ forehead. “Execute them tomorrow morning,” she said darkly.
“Which ones?”
“All four. They chose to dwell in the past, so let them lose their future.”
With her order given she turned and stormed down the hall, with her captain watching closely. As soon as she was out of sight he approached Apple Bloom’s cell and reached into his armor. “From your cousin,” he said as her cigarettes and a pack of matches landed in her lap. He gave her a strange look that did little to reveal what was going through his head and without much hesitation he left the same way as Dinky.
All there was now in the room were four doomed prisoners and everything became quiet as knowledge of their impending fate settled in. The two twins slunk to the center of their cell and sat facing one another, talking gently in voices too low to be heard, and Silver Spoon slowly walked over and rested her back against Apple Bloom’s through the bars. Apple Bloom tensed as the warm back pressed against hers but lacked the motivation to move. Instead she simply lit a cigarette and took a good drag on it.
“About your cousin,” said Silver Spoon in a soft voice, “She wasn’t there that night, you know? She has no reason to not believe the propaganda and official stories.”
“Ah realize that,” said Apple Bloom, “and are you honestly trying to give me sympathies?”
“No,” said Silver Spoon with a smirk, “Just buttering you up for a smoke. C’mon, give me one will you?”
Apple Bloom held a cigarette and match through the bars which Silver Spoon greedily snapped up and lit, savoring a puff and letting it out with a satisfied sigh and a cough. No matter how much she hated a pony, Apple Bloom couldn’t begrudge one cigarette to someone before their date with the gallows.