//------------------------------// // Burning the Fat from the Muscle // Story: Yaerfaerda // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// Bellesmith and Pilate trotted up the edge of an arid hill. The two paused, leaning against one another. Not long after, Zaid and Props rounded the same crest, staring south with forlorn expressions. Chunks of skystone lay everywhere in an elaborate mess of crimson debris. There was next to nothing left of the Noble Jury's gondola. It was as if the mountain above had pulverized the metal to pure dust. An enormous dark splotch of burnt ash forever blemished the stone cliff face looming above the ponies. “Pizz fah wizz...” Props cooed, misty eyed as she stripped her goggles off and held them to her fuzzy chest. Zaid gulped, glancing at the broken controls in his grip. “Hrmmm...” He looked up at the smattering of skystone. “You don't suppose the cheese survived, do ya?” Props sighed. Without looking, she raised her hoof. “Thanks, Blondie.” Zaid swung his own skull into her limb. Whack! “Owie...” He rubbed his head, wincing. “Still, how are we gonna get anywhere at this point?” They all heard a shrill whistle, then looked straight up. Rainbow Dash was floating high above, facing north as she waved her forelimbs dramatically. She then backed up, smirking, as a thunderous vibration filled the air. Thwooosh! With thrusters roaring, the Tarkington descended, making a soft landing just below the hill where the four were standing. The green ship was battered and burnt in dozens of places, and its descent was performed with a slight curve, but it was nothing that couldn't be fixed. As soon as the thing landed, Rainbow flitted around to the port side in time for the door to slide open. Four crew members peered their heads out. “Ah, so Rainbow Dash got to you first.” Booster Spice smiled wearily, adjusting his goggles. “I guess that explains the whole 'miraculously alive' part.” “Booster!” Belle beamed, eyes glimmering. “You're in one piece!” “Spark be praised,” Pilate said with a warm exhale. “Uncky Prowsyyyyy!” Props squealed, her mane billowing as she kicked her hooves. “Zaidy—!” “Right...” The stallion hunched over, giving her a boost with his spine. Props bounced off him and went sailing like a blonde missile into the Tarkington's cabin. Booster and Zetta gasped, diving for cover. Props pinballed off an awkwardly blinking Basso, then plowed into Prowse's thin, gangly figure. “Whoahhhhh now!” Prowse chuckled, rubbing his good hoof through her golden locks. “Dun ya forget, lass, I'm an old fart!” “But the funnest of the fartiest!” Props squealed as she nuzzled-nuzzled her fluffy head against his bearded muzzle. “Heeeeeeeee! We made it! We made it! We maaaaade it!” “Heh... one thing at a time, Propsicle.” “The Capital is safe now,” Zetta said. “But... the Cartel's being dealt with as we speak.” “What do you mean 'as we speak?'” Rainbow asked. Zetta bit her lip. With a blink, Rainbow's vision narrowed. “Where's Roarke...?” In the middle of the Val Roan desert lay a crashed hunk of burning metal where a brown mare approached several dozen bipedal creatures. Roarke's glare fell on Haman's sweaty brow in an icy glint as she trotted along, one hoof at a time. Jex watched from a distance, shivering in the shadow of orbiting Lounge spheres. “Grnkkk...” Haman spat blood as he glanced aside at his subordinates. “What are you doing?! Don't just stand there!” His teeth showed as he howled: “Kill her! Kill the pony!” A few goblins flinched. A few more twitched where they stood. But, for the most part, no member of the Cartel made a single move. Even as two dozen more limped out of the lower decks to gawk at the scene, they made no attempt to assist the rotund abomination inside his teetering suit. “What... wh-what are you doing?!” Haman sputtered as he lurched backwards in his damaged mech. “Didn't you hear me?! I gave you an order! Skin this bitch alive!” “All you're good for is yelling,” Roarke droned. Her teeth showed as she hissed, “You are hollow, just like your suit.” Haman panted and wheezed, his chins covered in slobber as he backed up against a smoldering chunk of metal. “Have you all gone mad?! I'm your boss! I told you to kill her! Now do it!” His wildly darting eyes settled on Jex, and he sneered. “You. You're responsible for this madness somehow! This... this is a conspiracy! A coup!” “No conspiracy.” Roarke slowly shook her head, approaching him. “No coup.” A calm breath. “This is the day you cease to exist. I am going to kill you.” “Rrrrrkkk—!” Eyes flaring, Haman pounded forward in his suit. Clamp-Clamp-Clamp! “Raaaaaaugh!” Roarke effortlessly twirled to the side, allowing Haman to charge on by. Once she had stumbled past her, she twirled and took aim at one of his surviving metal legs. A panel of Lounge metal that was clasped to her fetlock extended a glowing barrel, hummed, and—ZAAAP! CRACK! One of the rear crab legs to Haman's suit melted clean through. “Aaaugh!” He teetered awkwardly on three metal limbs. Swinging his chassis around, he wheezed steam and gnashed his teeth in her direction. “Raaaaaugh!” He ran at her, hobbling sideways. When he came within striking distance, he leaned back against two legs while swinging a barely-rotating buzz saw with his third. Swooosh! Roarke dodged, ducked, and easily side-stepped the throws. With a twirl, she flung her other fetlock out, swinging a swath of hot Lounge metal. CL-CLANG! Her superheated weapon bent Haman's leg, embedding the limp buzz-saw into the earth. Clack! “Gaaaugh!” Haman tugged and yanked at the embedded limb, struggling to dislodge himself. Roarke took a calm breath, extended a tiny grenade launcher from her shoulder, and fired a doughnut-sized explosive. The thing flew true, attaching to the underside of Haman's chassis. It blinked once, flashed, then—POWWW! Two of Haman's remaining metal legs were instantly severed. He yelled as his chassis fell back, rolling left and right on the dusty earth like a lopsided egg. “Mrmmffg... hauckkkt!” Roarke marched towards him while every imp watched. “Killer of children... enslaver of innocents...” Schiiiing! A glistening blade extended from a metal sleeve along her right forelimb. “Let me teach you what violence should be used for.” With a grunt, she hopped onto his chassis, mounting him. Schlunkkk! She lopped off the last remaining metal limb, issuing sparks in every direction. “You should use it when harmony itself isn't enough to cut it!” She sliced deep into his metal suit, exposing wires and manacrystals. “When you must defend peace and liberty at all costs!” Then, leaning in, she sliced several of the metal tubes surrounding him, leaking steam all around the goblin's twitching torso, so that he sputtered and wheezed for want of a breath. “And... when there's absolutely no option left...” She retracted the blade, then yanked his spasming face towards her muzzle, so that the two glared eye to eye. “... you murder to rid the world of insufferable monsters who won't abide by change.” Her ice blue eyes glinted. “But this isn't murder. This is taking out the garbage.” “Please...” Haman sputtered, his eyes twitching about. “I... I deserve another ch-chance!” He glanced past her. “Tell her, dammit! You stupid runts! Tell her not to kill m-me!” He looked at her, drooling and hiccuping. “I... I can change...” Roarke gazed at him calmly. She reached a hoof out... and yanked one of the suit's steam-tubes loose before shoving it deep into his throat. “Grkkk—!” His body jerked. She hissed into his fat face. “You can burn.” As she dismounted the suit, Haman's torso shook and quivered. His voice made horrible gargling noises as steam billowed out his mouth, nostrils, and every orifice. At last, his eyes turned blood red, enlarged, then burst completely as dense boiling fumes billowed out. He let loose a breathless scream, quivering for one last time, then lay still as his skin burst at multiple seams, exhaling misty red steam in a constant jet. Jex took a long, deep breath. His battered body relaxed, as if a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. Upon hearing a loud voice, he turned to gaze at the center of the scene. “Look at me...” Roarke snarled. When only half of the imps complied, she shouted it this time: “Look at me!” The Green Bandits of the Cartel stared at the metal mare. She stood tall, muzzle tight and firm. “You are all dying. Slowly, one by one, you are killing yourselves with your putrid ways. All these years, Haman and despots like him have taught you that pain, slavery, and greed are the only means to power. Well, there is something greater than power—and that's tranquility. Power only leads to annihilation—the consumption of all you are and endeavor to be. With a tranquil existence, you can live long enough to discover what you mean to this world, to this universe.” She swallowed. “And to each other.” The mare trotted towards the smoldering husk of Haman and pointed at the metal-wrapped corpse. “Your Boss did not care for your race, nor was he even remotely prepared to secure your future! He only wanted to gain power as swiftly and as violently as possible! It didn't matter how much silver he spent or how many goblin children he enslaved—he himself was a slave to selfish, mindless ambition! And look at what it got him!” She pointed up at the Lounge spheres. “Look at what it nearly got each and every one of you!” The members of the Cartel hung their heads, shuddering. Roarke glared. “You are all pathetic wastes.” A deep inhale. “But you don't have to be. This world was given your hands and arms for a reason, and it's something far stronger, far nobler than raping and pillaging. Monstrous beasts have convinced you for far too terribly long that power means exploiting the pacifism in others. Just because you're strong and technologically gifted doesn't mean you have to be senseless carnivores. There's a place in this world for violence, but it's in taming the elements... and in securing for all of us—goblins and deer and ponies alike—a civilization where violence doesn't have to be used.” She paced before the group, her gaze bouncing across each one of their forlorn faces. “It's never too late to start again. But you've been misguided for so long, that you need a guide... someone loyal enough to tell you...” She paused, taking a breath as she pointed at Haman's corpse again. “To show you that there's a better way! A nobler way!” Her eyes narrowed. “I am going to be your Boss from now on. The Cartel shall be my Cartel. And as the goddess Searo is my witness, your days of decay shall end. I'll show you how to make metal out of filth... and to make serenity with the sword.” The imps stared up at her, their ears folding back as they gazed in wonderment. “Today is the beginning of a bright and furious crucible...” Roarke took a deep breath. “Now, who among you are willing to change? And who among you wish to burn?”