Five months ago...
Far below the glistening ivory towers and interlocking streets of Canterlot, on what seemed a small dirt service-street branching off of the cobble road which wound its way up the mountain, was a house. It was an unassuming house, built of wood paneling and red brick, and pressed against the mountain face such that it could extend within the rock. Golden Stud frowned as he stood outside of it. He held a particular distaste for the unexpected, and this house was wholly unexpected. Opulent manors, ten-carriage garages, pristine lawns... These, he had expected.
As much as he had anticipated extravagance, he was still pleased not to see it, and he went ahead and knocked on the door. After a moment's wait, a unicorn mare pulled it open. Golden took note of her appearance; a Celestia-white coat, long pink mane, and build that seemed more typical of an alicorn. The two had met once before; she was still striking.
"Lord Golden Stud, isn't it?" she asked with a gracious smile.
"Lady Fleur," he replied with a slight bow. Naturally, he knew she was not a 'Lady' in the sense of titled nobility, but it was a courtesy he did not mind extending to her. Although he had only met her husband on one prior occasion, Golden found him respectable and more deserving of a title than some stallions who actually possessed one.
"Please, follow me. I fear my Fancy's forgotten the time again, but I'll show you to his workshop if that will suffice."
Fleur de Lis led the noblepony through the house, and he looked politely at its decor as he followed. Much like the outside, the interior was decidedly minimal. Not un-lived-in, but merely unobtrusive. He saw no gold cutlery or diamond-studded picture frames, but from his knowledge of Fancy Pants, the absence of such things was preferential, not financial. Golden found the style reminded himself of his summer home away from Canterlot.
After passing the sitting room, dining hall, and a guest room, the pair reached a heavyset iron door at the back of the house. Fleur pulled it open and revealed beyond it a tunnel carved into the mountain. She felt along the tunnel wall for a moment before pressing a switch, and a series of gemstone lights illuminated the passage.
The walk took longer and proved more winding than Golden thought necessary, and prompted a curiosity about whether the house or tunnel had come first, and moreover, why a workshop would need to be so deep within the mountain. And, unless he was mistaken, they seemed to be gradually working their way downwards as well.
The passage leveled out—yes, he was quite certain now, they had been doing down—and another iron door came into sight. Fleur pushed it open and stepped through, Golden following several steps behind. She smiled softly, observing his expression as he took in his surroundings. He now stood on a wooden platform, halfway up a massive hollowed-out cavern beneath Canterlot. This was not part of the 'Canterlot Caverns,' a series of interconnected gem-studded tunnels running beneath the city. Those caverns did not extend this deep into the mountain, and were typically relatively narrow. The chamber he now overlooked must have been at least fifty pony-lengths tall and wide, and twice as long.
Wooden platforms like the one on which he stood seemed to run the entire length of the chamber, connected by winding staircases and mounted in place by metal brackets and rope. Golden could see at least a dozen ponies moving around these platforms, carrying tools, speaking with one another, or examining large sheets of parchment. It proved easy enough to see all this with the aid of torches mounted sporadically over these walkways and hung from above. At the center of both the cavern and everypony's attention, held aloft by ropes suspended from the intricate iron lattice mounted to the ceiling and walls, was an airship the likes of which Golden had never seen before.
Every foal knew what airships were. A marvel of modern ingenuity, they allowed anyone to touch the clouds and see the land from above. Of course, few were ever privileged enough to do so, as these vessels were usually toys for the wealthy. Golden Stud could have owned a fleet of them if he so desired, but never developed interest beyond a brief ride. He did not see the appeal of standing aboard a sailboat dangling from a hot air balloon, which really was all he could see them as.
The craft now fixed in the center of the cavern forced Golden to re-evaluate his opinions. Instead of being dangled from a gas-filled balloon as he was used to, or even the novelty design of dangling between two attached balloons, this craft seemed to have none at all. He could still see the 'sailboat' if he got creative, but in truth, that had no place either. This vessel seemed more akin to an Asinial Ironclad than any Equestrian seafaring vessel Golden could remember. The center of the craft was a long metal frame with wood filler, clearly unfinished but with distinct rooms and an upper deck already marked out and being built. This habitable section was flanked on either side by metal supports form-fitted to the central construction, each no taller than the upper deck and curving slightly downwards at the base but reaching barely below the lowest part of the main craft. These supports already had a patchwork of metal sheets covering them at points and creating the beginning of a hollow chamber inside.
"He calls it the Courser." Fleur de Lis stood at the edge of the platform, looking back at Golden with unconcealed pride for her husband's work.
"I've never seen anything like it."
"Fancy's always been enthusiastic about skyfaring, and he's improved on others' designs a few times, but this is his. He's had help putting it together, of course, but this is his airship."
"How will it fly, though? I thought you had to have a balloon and be able to heat the gas inside."
Fleur frowned slightly. "I'm afraid I still don't quite understand it myself, but- Ah! Excuse me, sir," she broke off, addressing a brown earth pony passing by with several slats of wood draped over his back. "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but could you show this gentlestallion to Fancy for me, and answer any questions he has?"
"Sure thing, ma'am! I was headed that way myself."
Turning back to the noble, she added, "I hope you don't mind if we part ways now, Golden Stud. It has been a pleasure."
"Likewise, Miss Fleur," he replied with a dip of his head before addressing the brown pony. "Now, lead the way. And tell me if you know, just how will this 'Courser' fly?"
The stallion nodded and continued walking along the scaffolding. "Oh, that's easy. The boss came up with a special enchantment to heat and cool the air inside those metal tanks—well, they will be tanks when we're done. Anyway, he's got it all worked out so that he can send the talismans power and commands through gemstones mounted by the steering wheel."
"Impressive..."
"Yeah, Fancy Pants is real clever. I'm just happy he included me on this project."
"You've worked with him before?"
"I like to dabble with machinery; he sponsors me so that I can work and share my designs."
"I see... I shall, perhaps, wish to speak with you on another day. What's your name, then?"
"Time Turner, sir."
~ ~ ~
Knight? The black-coated mare straightened up, looking away from the collection of maps she had been hunched over, and turning towards the gem resting on her bunk. Hurriedly, she moved to it and pressed on it with a hoof.
"Soarin, I'm here. News?"
Yeah, I'm headed back from the travel office now. One of the watchponies recognized the picture of those three immediately; I checked with their records office, and sure enough, three griffins paid to board a cargo flight to Crown Roc about an hour after the break-in.
"Great! Did you make sure they're the same three, though? There must a dozen griffins through that skyport every day."
Yeah, there have been eleven since the robbery, but the stallion I talked to specifically remembers three of 'em together, and he thinks that it's the three in the picture.
"Understood. Hurry back." With that, Knight slipped the gem's string over her head and settled it around her neck. She shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and gave a slight nod before trotting out of her quarters and up to the deck. Fancy Pants and Gilda had both arrived—at the same time, Knight noted—almost a half-hour ago, and she had told them to be ready to take off at a moment's notice.
Sure enough, the two of them were waiting when she opened the door onto the main platform. The stallion leaned over the railing at the edge of the walkway extending over the starboard air tank, overlooking the city with a faint smile. Gilda, meanwhile, had taken up a perch on the roof of the ready room and looked down at the captain with her ever-present smirk.
"Fancy," Knight began. "I need you to get the ship ready to take off. As soon as Soarin's back, we're anchors-up."
"Marvelous! Where are our intrepid fiends leading us now? A pirate's cove, perhaps? A secluded cloud fortress? I say, an underground laboratory?"
"Crown Roc, for now."
This drew a look from their resident griffin. "The thieves are going there?"
"According to our best and only present lead, yes."
With a soft thud, Gilda dropped from the roof and landed on deck, frowning at Knight. "Are we... Do you intend to enter officially?"
"Ideally, we can intercept them before they reach land. Failing that, we will declare ourselves to Griffin Border Protection." After a pause, "That won't be a problem, I trust?"
"N- Ah, no, of course not. No problem." The griffin coughed into her foreleg before forcing a grin. "Let's just hurry this along."
"Right. And, Fancy, what are the odds we can catch up if they left eight hours ago?"
"Doable," he replied with a glance over his shoulder from his position at the helm. "I'm making a few adjustments, but it's certainly doable."
The thud of four hooves on the deck—and a shouted "Waaaa-hoo!"—signaled Soarin's return. "Let's get this boat in the air!"
...
An hour later, Baltimare was far below the horizon and a vast expanse of blue extended in every direction. The roar of the propellers could hardly be heard over that of the wind, but at the speed they needed to maintain, both were naturally very loud. In order to go as fast as they were, Fancy Pants had brought the ship to a higher altitude than normal and altered the pressure in the tanks to bring the nose of the ship down slightly, as well as bringing the engine to full power. Gilda sat at the head of the ship, already on watch for any sign of the vessel they meant to intercept.
Below deck, Minuette was working diligently. She stood in her study and continually cast different spells, jotting down notes after each. Eight hours was a long time for an airship, after all, and more than enough for their target to stray from its course. For this purpose—as well as for science!—she had decided to refine her new spell and divine a way to actively track the gemstone with it.
Minuette reared back and slammed her hooves on the deck. "Horseapples!" She hadn't met with much success and was beginning to feel the thaumic fatigue; she wouldn't be able to continue for much longer.
A knock sounded at her door and she called out permission to enter. Time Turner stepped into the doorframe, looked from the mare to her notation, and sighed. "Is this about that same spell?"
"Yes! I cast it just fine in the museum, and if I do it exactly the same, I can replicate it. I don't need to replicate it, though. I need to improve it! I want to be able to search the skies for an amplified ambient magical field, but the spell degrades before it can travel far enough to be effective."
"It sounds like you need a construct, then, or something to channel the energy," Turner mused. After a brief pause, he smirked. "It's too bad we don't have an ancient magical gemstone capable of doing just that."
"Granted, but that doesn't much help right now..." They lapsed into silence once more, staring down at the floor in mutual exhaustion from two nigh-uninterrupted consecutive jobs. Finally, Minuette started a bit and turned back to her friend. "What about the Flare?"
"The- wait, you mean to modify it? You haven't even studied it properly—nopony has!" The stallion looked at her incredulously.
"No," Minuette acknowledged with a sigh, "but we've used it. We know how it works in theory, and if we can rig it to cast something other than a combustion spell, just think of how much we could do! And right now, we need to do this. Following this airship was a hunch to begin with, and we might not even be following them now. If we pull this off, it won't matter where they are." She gave her best reassuring grin. "Are you in?"
.....
Half an hour later, the two of them were still staring at the device they'd dismounted from its pivot on the stern of the ship and had laid out on the deck.. It was silvery-blue in color, relatively cylindrical, and the length of two ponies. Odd etchings wrapped around the width of it—two hoof-lengths, maybe—and the shape came almost to a point at one end. Here, a small notch marked the focal point of what Minuette assumed to be the spell-matrix. In any case, it was the end that fired the disintegration beam. On the opposite side, where the mechanism grew wider and jagged towards the end, a glimpse of the interior could be seen—just a faint unnatural glow.
"How, exactly, do we open it?" Time Turner ventured.
"Well, you remember what happened when I tried to pry it apart telekinetically..."
Deadpanning, "I still taste the ozone, yes."
"So, that told us the device responds to energy pulses, so using magic to get it open is out of the question. For obvious reasons, so is taking a crowbar to it."
"Hm..."
.....
Two hours later...
Cloud... Cloud... Cloud... It was a struggle staying awake for so long while sitting idle, but Gilda couldn't slip up now. Cloud... Cloud...
Balloon?
Her eagle-vision focused in on a small patch of orange amid the clouds far below. She waited a moment and saw it moving independently. With a start, she pushed off from her resting position and rushed to the nearest brass pipe. "Sighted them!" she shouted into it. "At least two dozen shiplengths below us, and moving a whole lot slower!"
Fancy Pants scrambled—in a dignified manner—more of a dash, really—onto the deck and nearly tripped over the Flare and the two ponies still examining it. Reaching the helm, he immediately began making adjustments to match the motion Gilda had described. The engines' roar cooled to a low hum and the noise of the wind gradually died. A soft hissing filled the air as Fancy vented some of the excess heated gas from the tanks and the craft began to fall, and a faint, shrill sound denoted the cloaking talisman overloading from the sudden drop in altitude.
Knight grabbed stepped up to the railing, carrying a voice amplifier, and watched as she ship came into view. "Attention, cargo vessel Swiftwing. You are ordered to shut down your engines immediately." It showed no indication of a change in speed, so Knight lowered the amplifier and turned to Soarin and Gilda who stood ready and equipped on deck. "Right. This is a civilian craft, so opening fire is not presently an option. Get over there and subdue anyone aboard."
"You got it, cap'!" Soarin proclaimed. The griffin just grunted affirmatively, and then the two of them were in the air.
The Courser had slowed down considerably to match the freighter's speed, so it was not particularly difficult to fly from one vessel to the other. Soarin and Gilda both came to a hover over its deck, watching for any sign of movement and ensuring that their gear was ready. Plated vests, the better to deflect griffin talons; check. Lightning gems and accompanying hoof-mounted launcher; check. And for Gilda, a pair of Lion-Tamers—one of the older models of griffin gem-based sidearms—secured inside holsters on each foreleg.
Suitably prepared, the two landed on the deck and walked over to the door leading below. Taking up positions on either side, Soarin readied a gem in his sling and Gilda drew one of her guns before pulling the door open. A hail of energy beams shot out immediately. The pegasus glanced for a moment when they ceased, and sighted a griffin taking cover behind some boxes blocking the corridor below. He nodded to Gilda, who shifted around to fire blindly into the room. Soarin drew back his sling, leaned over, and released it.
After the bright flash, Gilda dove down the stairs, pounced, and landed squarely on the convulsing griffin while keeping her gun trained on the hallway ahead. Soarin advanced behind her, another gem already prepared to fire. The two advanced slowly through the hallway, stopping periodically to check side-doors leading into crew quarters. Reaching the end, they encountered another staircase leading downward.
Descending cautiously, they entered the large chamber forming the belly of the craft. It was filled with boxes of various shapes, piled and tied into careful stacks on pallets or strapped to the curved walls at certain points. Taking cover behind a nearby crate, Soarin called out, "You are outnumbered and unable to escape! Discard your weapons and surrender now!"
A momentary silence elapsed before the room was filled with the roar of wind. At the head of the ship, opposite Soarin and Gilda's positions, a large cargo ramp dropped open and exposed the room to the open sky. From somewhere behind cover on that end of the ship, the bright red light of a signal flare suddenly illuminated the area. The griffin hiding over there threw it over the edge of the ramp and it promptly exploded.
Approaching the position slowly and maintaining a line of sight, Soarin called back to Gilda questioningly. "What do you figure that was?"
"Obviously a call for backup."
"But if they had backup in sight, why wouldn't they have just hoofed the gem off?"
The griffin's beak drew back into a grimace and she shook her head. "Maybe they did, and that was a warning? 'The ponies are coming—fly like mad'?"
"If that's so, we need to hurry up and-" Soarin never got to finish that sentence, seeing Gilda swoop over his head with both Lion-Tamers drawn and opening fire on the hiding-place near the ramp. Trotting up, he saw both of the remaining thieves curled up and motionless.
Gilda poked one with a talon and smirked. "Bet they would've run faster if they'd known it wasn't just the ponies that were coming."
.....
It sounded to Knight, listening in from one of the enchanted 'hear-me' gems—and, she resolved in that moment, Minuette needed a better name for them—it seemed as though Soarin and Gilda were doing well. If they failed, of course, she'd have to blow the ship out of the sky, which she would very much rather avoid.
She was concerned, then, when the cargo bay door flopped open and neither operative seemed to know why. When she saw the signal burst in the air, she reached the same conclusion as Soarin. Hearing that all hostiles aboard the ship were subdued and none had the gem, she ordered her team back to the ship and told Fancy Pants to take it below cloud level.
Sure enough, their line of sight cleared up and another airship was below them, rapidly trying to accelerate away This one was no cargo vessel, but instead an unmistakable griffin combat design bearing no insignia or markings. Its double-balloons were each painted a combination of red and black. Laying in a pursuit course, the Courser's engines roared to life once more and caught up in minutes. Knight grabbed her voice-amplifier and began to speak, "Stand down-", when she felt the craft rock from the impact of a cannonball. "Fancy!" she called out instead. "Line us up and light them up! Soarin, Gilda, get down there! Mini, Turner, get off the deck before you're pulped!"
Fancy began manipulating the helm once more, pushing the throttle forward and modifying both the engine output and tank pressure to force the ship into a strafing motion instead of a turn. As they came alongside the aggressor's vessel, who had continued to ineffectually fire cannonballs into the Courser, the unicorn mashed a button and a series of ports along the starboard side opened above the top of the gas tanks, revealing a small chamber concealing cannons within. Another button, and they let out a volley that tore into the side of the larger ship, who immediately began trying to lose altitude and escape the range of fire.
"Stay with them!" Knight shouted again. Fancy started to vent more of the air in the tanks, but they were low enough now that he had to do so very carefully. Meanwhile, the hostile cannon- and sidearms-fire persisted despite Soarin and Gilda' best efforts. They'd taken to sweeping around and between the two balloons, thereby preventing anypony from shooting near them, but there were simply too many griffins. When ten had taken flight at once and moved to engage the pair, they chose to make a hasty retreat to the Courser—the griffins did not pursue.
After around a minute of gradual descent—and the water was fairly near by the point—someone on the griffin ship finally gave the order to load the cannons with explosive rounds. The first shot to hit placed a sizable dent in the starboard tank and shook the Courser terribly.
The Flare, still resting on the deck of the ship, teetered slightly.
The second shot put a bruise in the hull of the undercarriage.
The Flare began to roll towards the starboard tank.
Gilda and Soarin had swooped back into combat under Knight's orders, who stood at the fore end of the starboard handrail monitoring the situation.
The third shot punched a hole through the dent in the starboard tank and the Courser immediately began to plummet, its right side dipping severely.
The Flare slammed into the starboard railing and smashed it apart, dropping towards the griffin ship below.
Soarin and Gilda began to pull back to the ship again, under heavy attack.
The Flare intercepted much of the magical small arms fire aimed at Gilda and Soarin as it fell.
The Flare embedded itself in the hull of the griffin ship, shattering the deck as it hit and lodging itself in a lower floor, already beginning to glow a luminous golden-yellow.