Chapter 34
Gunner stood in the cold snow outside of Tap’s tavern, his teeth chattering and breath freezing. “Gah, wish she’d open up and give us a drink,” he managed to complain through his shivvers.
“Gunner, we’re attacking tonight. In flying machines we haven’t touched before,” Trigger Mark said, gesturing back in the direction of the camp with a chiding glance. “We don’t want to get ourselves killed because we got drunk.”
“Yeah, well…” said Gunner. “What if we die anyways? Then I won’t be able to get a drink at all!”
Trigger Mark rolled his eyes. “If you die without a drink, I assure you I’ll take that guilt to my grave.”
The door opened. Tap emerged, wearing a scarf.
“Heeeeey!” said Gunner, waving a hoof. “You open for business?”
“Just need to run an errand,” said Tap. “Scroll didn’t give me back my bucket.”
“Ah, gotcha,” said Gunner, nodding. He looked at Trigger Mark. “If I die…” he warned.
Trigger Mark, however, inspected Tap. His eyes were drawn to her leg.
“Window shopping, Trigger Mark?” asked Tap, smirking at him.
“Just curious.” He raised his hoof and pointed at her leg, and the harness attached to it. “Why you decided to strap your gun to your leg.”
Gunner looked down to her legs. Well, he’d already been looking, but he noticed that Trigger Mark was right; she’d strapped her holster to her foreleg.
Tap, however, seemed unconcerned. “Hey, I’m a little on edge,” she said. “Just want to be ready in case some shit happens. The pegasi probably aren’t about to just turn around, but what if the unicorns decide to come over?” She waved her leg a little, showing the holster.
Trigger Mark nodded and Gunner shrugged. Seemed a good enough answer. Still, something about it bothered Trigger Mark, and he watched Tap as she walked down the snow-covered street.
___________
Scroll sat at his desk, examining the small object in front of him. The smooth, round, clear object. He could have almost mistaken it for quartz.
Eagle was still in his bed. The curtain had been pulled back. Scroll could be reasonably sure that nopony would come at this time, but he still kept an ear out for the sound of hoofsteps.
A tray sat next to Eagle’s bed, empty save for some crumbs. Eagle stared blankly at the wall; he hadn’t made a sound since Scroll had the foals over.
“That was a good story,” said Scroll.
Eagle grunted as he turned over in his bed. “Huh?” he asked, half annoyed, half bored.
“The one you told the foals,” said Scroll. “Do you tell stories often?”
“Oh,” said Eagle, looking back up at the ceiling. “No. Just something I pulled off of the top of my head.”
“Oh,” said Scroll, turning back to the thing on the desk. “Well, it was very good,” he said. “You have a nice way of words and you’re… well, I liked it. I thought it managed to evoke—”
“Just shut up,” Eagle groaned, putting a hoof to his face. “This is so fucking weird.”
“You’re telling me,” Scroll grumbled.
They were quiet for a moment. Scroll examined the thing on his desk, prodding it, weighing it, making notes on a sheet of parchment next to him. Eagle looked over at him, snorted, and then rolled back over on the bed.
Nothing happened for a while. Scroll knew that if Eagle were seen, it would not end well. Therefore, he had drawn the curtains almost completely shut, only letting a little light in through the windows, and was working mostly by candlelight at his desk. It was inconvenient, It was inconvenient, but the need for secrecy called for some compromises.
There was a sound of hoofsteps from outside. Scroll, as quickly as he could, tossed the small thing into a drawer and bolted over to Eagle to shut the curtains around him, drawing a deadpan narrowing of the eyes from Eagle.
“Scroll?” called Tap’s voice. “You in there?”
Scroll let out a loud sigh of relief. “Yeah!” he answered, walking over. “Hold on, lemme get the…” Tap opened the door and stepped inside. “…door.”
Tap stood there, looking at him like he had just made a very stupid comment at an important dinner party or something.
“Hi,” said Scroll, “something I can do for you?”
“The bucket?” asked Tap.
“The…” Scroll said. “Oh!” He turned around and walked to the corner. “Sure, let me get that for you! Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked…”
Tap walked over to the desk and saw the sheet of parchment, scribbled with notes.
“Between the hostage thing and the…” He turned around and stopped. “What are you looking at?”
“Teleportation device…” she read. “Lack of apparent activating mechanism.” She looked at Scroll. He stood there, the bucket hanging in his mouth by the handle. “Let me guess,” she said, pulling the drawer open. “Got it right.”
“Please don’t tell anyway,” said Scroll.
“Relax,” said Tap, taking the device out of the drawer, “I’m not gonna rat you out to the general or anything.” She inspected it. “So this is what they use to get over here.”
Scroll nodded. “They send one or two unicorns to plant them around the time, and then when it’s time to attack, well…”
“Stuck one of these in my toilet, didn’t they?” asked Tap, nodding as she put it on the desk. “I remember that. So.” She turned to Scroll, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why do you have one?”
“Well…” said Scroll, nervously pawing the floor with a hoof. “I got this one off of the unicorn that, well…” He went quiet for a moment. “I, uh, I think that this one goes the other way. If it’s activated, it’ll take the user back to the unicorn fortress.”
“Ahh,” said Tap, nodding. “So after he sets them up, he can get out of town. Or he would’ve if Quake hadn’t shown up.”
Scroll cringed.
She regarded him for a moment, and continued. “That doesn’t answer my question. Why did you…” She thought about it for a moment. “You’re…” she stared at him, wide-eyed in disbelief. “Are you actually thinking of trying to use it?”
He shrugged. “I think it’s activated by magic. I’m not sure, though. I might have to get it hooked up to some magic batteries or something to get it working. I’m not a unicorn, so I’m not sure exactly how—”
“Scroll, that’ll get you killed,” said Tap.
They were both silent for a moment. Scroll walked up slowly and placed the bucket on the desk.
“Is she gone yet?” asked Eagle from behind the curtain, in a bored voice.
“No,” said Tap.
“Oh,” said Eagle.
“Well, I don’t know if they’d shoot me on sight,” said Scroll, shrugging. “Maybe they’d want to know how I did it.” He was quiet for a moment. “I miss White,” he said, looking down. “I need him.”
Tap sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “We all do.” She paused. “Well, not all of us.” She looked back at Scroll and walked over to him. “I can see how much he means to you.”
Scroll looked up. “I need to know he’s alright. I want to see him and talk to him. And I want him to let me know that I’m doing everything right.”
Tap looked over at the curtain separating Eagle from the rest of the library. “Uh… huh. Well,” she said, putting a hoof on the bucket, “I’ll just take this back now.”
“Thanks for letting me borrow it,” said Scroll. “Oh, and if you want a book or anything…”
Tap didn’t say anything, nor did she move for the door. She just looked at the curtain. “Actually,” she said, “I think I’d like to say hello.”
“Huh?”
She strolled over to the end of the room and tossed the curtain aside. “Hello,” she said, looking cooly down at Eagle with the contemptuous look of someone seeing the inside of a clogged sewer pipe. “Remember me?”
Eagle rolled over and looked up at her, his expression dull, saggy-eyed. Then his expression quickly melted into a look of wide-eyed terror.
“Oh, good, he does,” she said, glancing at Scroll with a smirk. “How’re the wings treating you?”
“What the fuck do you want?” asked Eagle, inches his body to hug the wall a little closer.
“Just saying hi,” said Tap, grinning down at him.
“Tap?” asked Scroll. “I don’t think you’re helping.”
“Just a moment, Scroll,” she said, not taking her eyes off of Eagle. “So yeah. You remember our little tussle last time you guys came over? Well,” she laughed, “you tussled with Scroll, I just shot you.”
Eagle stared up at her, not saying a word, barely daring to breathe.
“I have a revolver here,” said Tap, lifting her leg. “Not much. Six shots. Not exactly enough to go charging into a fight, but enough to deal with someone trying to get into my hiding places.”
“Stop it, Tap!” said Scroll, his voice nearly cracking as he weakly stamped a hoof on the floor. “Please don’t threaten him.”
Tap didn’t say anything. She didn’t even look at Scroll at first, just looking Eagle silently in the eyes. Then she slowly lowered her leg. “I wasn’t threatening him,” she said, before turning to Scroll. “I just wanted to see what someone like him looks like when he stares down the barrel of a gun.” She walked across the room, before stopping at the door. “You know, a lot of the guys in town call you a pussy,” she said to Scroll.
“I noticed,” he said dryly.
“He’s more of one, though,” said Tap, nodding her head over to Eagle. “I mean… you don’t pick fights with ponies. You don’t like it. It’s not ‘cause you’re going to lose, it’s ‘cause you don’t like it. This guy, though? If he’s winning he’s all cocky. Hit him and he breaks down. He’s a pussy. Only difference is, he pretends he’s not.” With that parting thought, she opened the door and headed out.
___________
Gunner stared down at the dead pony in front of him. Next to him, a small bag on the ground, spilling apples into the melting snow.
“Gunner?” asked Trigger Mark, nudging him. “You okay?”
Gunner didn’t answer. He’d had to do it. Quake didn’t tolerate ponies stealing from the forest if it wasn’t their stake. They did it, they got shot. That was the rule. Sure, ponies could be dicks to each other on their own time, but they didn’t dick with the forest. Especially not Quake’s part of the forest, which was most of it.
A pony had stole, and Gunner had shot him.
“Gunner?” asked Trigger Mark again.
“Yeah,” said Gunner. He looked away from the body, his head shaking just a little; he didn’t want to see it again. The snow next to the body was still lily-white in some places. Sometimes there wasn’t as much blood as you thought there’d be. There was some, but it wasn’t everywhere. “I guess so.” He ran his hoof across his rifle, slowly putting it back into the harness on his back. “It’s just… kinda figured I wouldn’t start shooting anyone ‘till tonight, y’know? Supposed to be a couple more hours.”
“It happens,” said Trigger Mark. He paused for a moment, looking off in the direction of the beach.
Gunner didn’t notice what Trigger Mark was looking at. He stewed in his own thoughts, muddled with the wet apples in the snow. It wasn’t until he realized that Trigger Mark wasn’t saying anything that he spoke up again. “What is it?” he asked.
“I was just thinking,” said Trigger Mark, “that since we have some time, we should pay Brother Scroll a visit.”
___________
By the time Tap re-entered the bar, Barrel had almost finished sweeping and cleaning. At the moment he was doing his best to neatly arrange the chairs around the table, an effort that Tap appreciated but found ultimately pointless.
“Hey!” he said. “I think we’re ready to open up again.”
Tap smiled and looked over his work. She nodded, and placed the bucket under the counter. “Yes,” she said, “I think we are. Good job.”
“Thanks,” said Barrel, scooting over to the counter. “Did you get any books?”
“I…” Tap said. “Well, no. I was just getting the bucket back.”
“Oh,” said Barrel. He didn’t pout, nor did he sulk, but it was clear he was disappointed. “Well, maybe I can visit tomorrow.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Tap, anxiously eyeing the bandages around Barrel’s midsection.
Barrel noticed her concern. “I can walk,” he said. “’Sides, I haven’t gone to the beach in a while. I miss the seabirds.”
“The—” Tap started, before she noticed the stuffed seagull plush sitting on the mantle above the fireplace. She made a mental note that that might not be the best place for it. “Well, I guess there’s no harm in that…” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “Just as long as you don’t strain yourself.”
“Nah,” he said, walking to the wall where the broom was leaning. “I’ll be fine.” He took the broom and began to walk across the tavern floor, to the door at the end. “Scroll’s got this one book he really likes. It’s called The Steadfast. He ever talk about it with you?”
“He’s mentioned it,” said Tap, shrugging.
“Well, it sounds cool,” said Barrel, as he opened the door to what had once been the mission room and walked inside. “It’s about…” he went, before his voice fell to an unintelligible muffle as he shut the door behind himself. This left Tap unable to hear what the book was about, and why Barrel had liked it so much..
She chuckled to herself a little, setting out some wooden cups on the counter, along with some bottles. As far as post-attack recovery went, this was going very well. She always liked it when her house didn’t burn down. It saved her the lost business and the necessity of getting favors.
After she had finished setting up, Barrel emerged from the room. “I mean, that takes balls, don’t you think?” he asked.
Tap laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t hear you from the other room.”
Barrel stopped and stared. “Oh…” He slapped himself in the face with a hoof. “That was dumb.”
“It’s alright,” said Tap, smiling. “Why don’t you open the door and tell everypony we’re open?”
Barrel nodded and walked over to the door. He threw it open, and bellowed out, “Hey everypony! We’re back in business!”
Tap heard a few joyous shouts from outside and looked up. Barrel backed out of the way and a small crowd of stallions entered. One of them, a soldier Tap recognized, strolled up to the counter.
“Heya, Tap,” he said. “We’re heading out tonight.” He winked at her. “Any chance I could get a goodbye kiss for luck?”
___________
White sat at the side of a dim, grey room. There were many rooms like it in the fortress. This was one of the medical rooms, though it was not up to the standards White had observed in Equestria. He thought back to his visits to the bright, cheery dentist offices as a foal and wished he were home again.
He didn’t say anything. He just sat, slouched against the wall. Clip looked at him, waiting for him to say something.
Duster was on a gurney, a surgeon tending to him, while Shine paced back and forth.
“Gunshots,” said the surgeon. “I usually like to have a little forewarning about these.”
“Hey, it’s not our fault,” said Shine. “Luckily that bastard got a taste of his own medicine, eh White?” He smiled at White, but White just looked at him with a dead expression. Shine’s smile faltered and he backed off. “Well… Nevermind. Sorry.”
Duster managed to slur together enough of a sentence. “So you gonna get this thing out of me or not?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” said the surgeon. “Trying to remove the bullet would only make things worse. No, the body will heal. We just need to stop the bleeding and—”
“I think your talents would be better spent elsewhere,” said a voice.
They all turned and saw General Monarch.
“Your highness!” said the surgeon, surprised.
“One of my soldiers is lying in bed with a shattered jaw,” said Monarch. “One that my daughter is very fond of. Since we don’t have a great deal of readily-available doctors, I think it would be best if you tended to him.”
The surgeon looked at Duster. “But what about—”
“He is of no concern to you,” said Monarch.
White looked up at him. No other doctors? He had to be lying. White looked straight at Monarch’s face and say his eye turn to glance at him, as a smirk briefly flashed on his face.
Clip put a hoof on his leg. “White?” he asked.
White stood up. “I’ll take care of him,” he said. Everyone in the room turned to him in surprise. He looked around at them, took a deep breath, and said very slowly. “I broke his jaw. I used my magic to do it. I can also fix it, and… well, I can at least set it to heal.” He turned to the surgeon and politely nodded his head. With all due respect, I think I might be able to do it better than you can. I’d like you to help Duster while I tend to Aq.” He looked to Monarch. “I think that should be acceptable, Your Highness?” he said, biting back a hiss on the last word.
Monarch’s face was stony and unreadable for a moment. Then he smiled. “Very well, Brother White,” he said. He turned and started for the door. Before he exited, however, he turned and said, “Aq’s jaw had better be as good as new when you’re finished.”
When he left, there was a collective sigh of relief. White looked to Clip.
“I missed you,” said White.
“Me, too,” Clip answered back. He rushed forward and put his forelegs around White’s leg.
White smiled down and patted Clip on the head. He had been so afraid that he’d lost him, and when he thought he had, he…
He staved off a shudder and nodded to Shine. “Shine, I’d appreciate it if you could keep an eye on Clip while I—”
“I wanna come with you!” said Clip.
Both missionaries looked at him curiously.
“Well…” said Clip, shuffling his hooves. “Can I? I’d like to.”
White exchanged a glance with Shine, and then nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Just stay close to me.” He walked towards the door, with Clip trailing at his hooves.
If there was one thing the unicorns were good at, it was austere dedication to keeping things neat and clean. Apart from the shabby rooms they set aside for the earth ponies, their medical facility was a pristine display of sanitation and order, the rooms neatly arrayed in rows and stocked with the relevant medical supplies. Apart, again, for Duster’s room.
They walked down the hallway and came to one room. White’s horn lit as he started to move the doorknob, but he stopped partway before he opened the door. He turned to look at Clip.
“Clip?” asked White. Clip looked at him, but didn’t look him right in the eyes. “About what… what I did.” Clip met his eyes for an instant, but then looked back down. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It was wrong. I never want to do that again.” Clip nodded, White smiled before placing a hoof on his shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
He turned the doorknob and entered.
Aq lay on a stretcher, slumped on his side. His back was to the door, and he reminaed lying there as White slowly entered. White wasn’t sure what to say, or even if it was wise to speak. He circled around the bed, and cringed as he saw Aq’s face. The mouth had become almost shapeless, open enough to see the disjointed angles between the teeth. Aq let out a moan, perhaps in anger, and his eyes fixated on White.
White’s horn glowed, and Aq’s body seemed to relax. “This will help the pain,” he explained. “It’s sort of an anesthetic. Also makes things seem funny.” He smiled, remembering the time he tried it on Scroll.
Clip hopped onto the bedside and looked Aq in the face. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Clip. Remember me?”
Aq’s eyes gazed at him with an expression that White couldn’t read. It might have been loathing. It might also have been boredom. It might have been the gas.
“I know you probably heard this earlier, but I just wanted to tell you.” He leaned in towards Aq’s face, smiling. “Even though you kidnapped me and tried to drop me over the edge, I forgive you. And I hope you’ll forgive White for what he did to you. He’s really sorry.”
Gently, White’s horn lit up, as a soft glowing light lifted Aq’s head. He took a swallow. You’re going to be a dentist, Pearly, he thought, can’t get too squeamish… you did do this to him. He began to shift the fragments of Aq’s jaw back together into their correct places. If I ever adopt foals, I am never letting them eat candy.
“It’s funny,” said Clip, his eyes starting to wander around the room, “that’s not the first time somepony’s dropped me. General Storm did it to me. Brother Scroll says she’s a bitch.”
“Language, Clip,” said White, as he started to work his magic on the jaw. The bones began, very slowly, to bond back together.
“Sorry,” said Clip.
Aq’s expression at this point was entirely due to the influence of the spell: a dead gaze in his eyes, as though eagerly awaiting release from a miserable, tormented, bored existence. It was the strangest coincidence that his magic-induced expression matched his innermost thoughts perfectly.
“Okay,” said White. “Let’s see what we can do here. I’m not exactly certified as a dentist, yet— I’m planning to go to school for that after the mission’s over—but let’s have a look at that jaw and see if that can’t be fixed. Though getting your teeth back in the right order might be… trickier.” He paused, looking into Aq’s mouth. “You really need a check-up,” he said. “There’s some awful tartar buildup. Like, your mouth is Tartar-us.” He laughed. Aq remained expressionless; even White’s spell couldn’t make that joke funny.
“So White did a bad thing,” said Clip. “Scroll did a bad thing too, once. He told a lie. But that’s okay, ‘cause I forgive them. Like how I forgive you. But you still shouldn’t do the things you’ve been doing. Like, that guy you took, Carpenter. He’s got a colt named Buzz. I dunno how Buzz is right now. He’s probably really scared. Buzz is pretty mean, but White says I should be nice to him. And if anypony can say that, it’s probably White, ‘cause Buzz got his dad to try to kill him.”
Aq’s eyes weakly rolled over to look at White, as if asking, “really?”
White paused, thinking of something he could say. “Yeah, well,” he said, “I think Carpenter’s warmed up to me.”
“Not really,” said Clip.
“Well he hasn’t done anything to me since he tried to kill me,” said White, “so I’ll take that as an improvement.” He gently pressed Aq’s jaw shut. “I think I’ve got it mostly set in place, so it should heal. Just don’t chew anything or talk too much for a couple of weeks. Rest it, don’t use it, and we can have another look at it to see how it heals.” He pulled a length of cloth from one of the drawers and tied Aq’s mouth shut. “And voila!”
___________
As the sky outside was darkening, the thin slivers of light from the windows and his own candle weren’t enough to keep the room lit. Scroll finished lighting all of the lamps in the library, and sighed in relief as the light warmed the room. “I’d rather have fireflies,” he admitted.
Checking the door was barred, he moved to the back and pulled back the curtain. Eagle lay there, still as sapped as he had been before.
“What do you want?” asked Eagle.
“Well,” said Scroll, walking over to the desk, “I thought it’d be a good time to read to you.” He picked up a copy of the Book of Friendship, one of the few left in the library, and approached Eagle’s bedside. “About what our mission and Fraternity’s about.”
Eagle groaned. “Sure. Why the fuck not? It’s not like I paid attention when Brother Sky talked about this shit.”
Scroll pulled up a stool and sat down, opening the book. “Ah, here’s a good story for us to read,” he said, “about Fluttershy and Discord’s redemption.” He cleared his throat, but a knock on the door interrupted him. Scroll set the book down and got up. “Hello?” he asked.
“Scroll?” called Trigger Mark’s voice. “May we come in?”
Scroll quickly shut the blinds. “Just a minute!”
He scurried up to the door and unbarred it. Opening it just a crack, he saw Gunner and Trigger Mark standing outside. They stood up straight, waiting for him to answer, their rifles slung on their backs. “Well, hello, you two!” he said. Before they could enter, he exited and shut the door behind them. “I didn’t expect you two at this time! Or at all.” He gave a wide smile. “What brings you two here?”
“May we come in?” asked Trigger Mark, taking a step forward.
Scroll leaned back against the door, holding the door shut. “Why would you want to?” he asked. “It’s such a nice afternoon, and it’ll be a full moon tonight. We could go for a walk on the beach and it’ll be all lit up!”
“Uh-huh,” said Trigger Mark, narrowing his eyes at Scroll. “Look, I was wondering if I could check out a book?”
Scroll blinked. “A book?”
“This is a library, right?” asked Trigger Mark.
“Oh,” said Scroll. “Well, what book would you like?”
“I felt like browsing.”
Gunner stood off to the side, not saying anything. There was a silence as Scroll stood at the door, smiling genially at Trigger Mark, who wore a cool, expectant expression.
“Well?” he asked.
“Hm?” asked Scroll. “Oh! Yeah, sorry, the library’s a mess. Can’t let anyone in while I’m cleaning.”
“Oh?” asked Trigger Mark. “I could’ve sworn Tap came by the other day?”
“Tap’s, well, Tap’s a…” said Scroll. His mouth hung open for a moment before he finished the sentence. “She’s a close friend.”
Trigger Mark chuckled. “And I’m not? I think you just hurt my feelings.”
“Uhh,” said Gunner, “well, you two haven’t had sex.”
Trigger Mark looked at him, eyes narrowed. “Having sex with Tap doesn’t mean you’re a close friend.”
“It does if she gives it to you free,” said Gunner.
“Uhh…” said Scroll, looking back and forth between them. “Well, she’s used to dealing with messes, what with her patrons making messes. And her house burning down every few weeks, and that kind of stuff. Like, I was over there earlier and there was, there was all this broken glass—”
“We’ve dealt with our own messy business,” said Trigger Mark, his voice a bit more serious. “Some of it are things I don’t think you’d be able to do.” He paused. “I noticed something that I found odd when Tap came here. Do you know what it was?”
Scroll didn’t answer. He wasn’t smiling. He just leaned against the door, almost not even looking Trigger Mark in the eye.
“She had her gun with her. And I thought to myself: ‘Why would Tap need a gun? To protect herself from missionary Brother Scroll?’”
“Well, maybe she was worried that a… an unfriendly unicorn might come out,” said Scroll, very slowly choosing his words. His eyes narrowed suspiciously on Trigger Mark.
“True,” said Trigger Mark, nodding. “And Tap isn’t careless. But still, I wonder…” He smiled at Brother Scroll. “After all, if there’s something wrong on the island, something that’s a danger to the ponies here, I should know.”
“Oh, I can think of a lot of things wrong on this island,” said Scroll, his voice flat. “You have guns with you right now. Is there a reason for that?”
“That depends,” said Trigger Mark. “Why are all the blinds drawn over the windows?”
“The sun fades the furniture,” said Scroll quickly. “Is there anything else?” he asked curtly.
“There’s no need to get snippy, Brother Scroll,” said Trigger Mark, “we’re just asking questions.”
“And you’re keeping me from my work,” said Scroll. “I think you should go.”
“So is it a pegasus or a unicorn?” asked Trigger Mark. “I’m thinking it’s a pegasus. Maybe someone wounded in the recent attack?”
“Wait, what?” asked Gunner. “You’ve got a winger in there?”
“I said I think you should go.”
“You had foals here!” said Trigger Mark in a dark, sharp tone. “You had foals in there with an enemy combatant, with no thought to the danger you were putting them in.”
Scroll just stood there, looking straight at Trigger Mark, silent. He opened his mouth, hesitantly, but closed it again. But he didn’t break eye contact with Trigger Mark, nor did he budge from the door.
“Don’t make this difficult, Scroll,” said Trigger Mark. “We’re in a hurry. Get—”
“I don’t think you have any reason to be here,” said Scroll. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere else, pointing your gun at something?”
“I think it’s our job to decide that,” said Trigger Mark.
“No,” said Scroll, “I don’t think it is. It’s my mission,” he said, jamming a hoof to his chest. “Not yours.”
“No,” said Trigger Mark. “When you do something that endangers the ponies here, that is my mission.” He walked up to Scroll and stared down at him. “Get out of my way.”
“I’m not moving,” said Scroll.
“Look, Mark, we don’t have time for this,” said Gunner, casting a look at the setting sun. “We can just report it and get back.”
Trigger Mark looked at Scroll. “We won’t report it,” he said. “Quake wouldn’t like to find you harboring enemy combatants.”
“Quake’s an asshole,” said Scroll. “He doesn’t like anything except breaking things. And sex.”
Trigger Mark turned and walked away. “We’ll be back tomorrow,” he said. Then he paused and turned back to Scroll. “I’m doing this to make it easier on you. Rather than just barge in through you, I’m going to give you some time to come to your senses and hand him over quietly. We don’t want a problem and we’re short on time.”
Scroll stared him coldly in the face.
Trigger Mark politely smiled and turned back to the town. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Brother Scroll.”
“Assuming we don’t get killed,” muttered Gunner. He looked at Trigger Mark. “Remember; drinks. If I get shot, that’s on you.”
Brother Scroll watched them go, then went back inside and bolted the door shut. “Whew,” he said. “That was a close one—” He turned around and saw Eagle standing, his legs rickety. “Eagle?” he asked. “What are you doing?” He took a step forward. Eagle took a step back, his legs shaking. “Eagle, get, get back in bed. You… you’re not well.”
“Why don’t you just kill me?” asked Eagle.
Scroll stared back at him, his expression blank.
Eagle took a step forward, but his legs wobbled and gave way. He fell on the floor and looked up at Scroll. “You heard them. I’m an… an ‘enemy combatant.’” He made a sound that was somewhere between a bitter laugh, a cough, and a spit. “They’re just gonna come back and finish the job. And hey, I could escape.” He looked at Scroll. Scroll opened his mouth to say something, but Eagle cut him off. “What are you trying to do? I’m just, just one of them, one of those other soldiers. I tried to kill you twice. It’s the only thing I know how to do.”
Scroll slowly walked over to him and knelt down. Eagle stared into his face as he smiled gently. “I know you’re scared,” said Scroll. “And, well, I am, too. I’m so scared I can’t even go to the bathroom.” He laughed a little nervously. “And… I know that, that this is bad. It’s really bad.” He hefted Eagle up off of the floor, helping him back onto his cot. “I know it’s… not looking up. But we’re going to get through this.”
“How do you know that?”
“Well…” Scroll paused. “If we don’t, we’re probably going to die.” He laughs a little nervously. “And, well, I think I have a pretty good, well, I think I’m pretty good at not dying.”
___________
White left Aq’s medical room and took a deep sigh of relief. Thank Celestia that’s over, he thought.
Clip walked up next to him. “Will he be alright?” he asked.
“He will be,” said White, nodding. “I… I don’t think I messed him up too bad. It just… well, hurt a lot.”
“You or him?” asked Clip.
White was silent for a moment. “I hurt him,” he said, sadly.
Clip hugged him on the leg, and White looked down.
“I know you feel bad about that,” said Clip.
White knelt down and wrapped a foreleg around him. “I was so worried about you. I thought they’d hurt you and…”
“Well, they didn’t,” said Clip. He grinned. “I was too smart!”
White laughed. “Stay by me,” he said, getting to his hooves. “I don’t know what they might try to do.”
They walked down the hallways. Clip walked with a little bounce in his step, chattering to White about what he’d seen.
“They have a bunch of foals working on things,” said Clip. “Mostly they have us cleaning floors and vents. Though I’ve heard about worse stuff…”
White stopped and looked down. “What kind of ‘worse stuff’?” he asked.
“Well,” Clip said, “some of the foals said that they have them go into the machinery to fix stuff when it gets broken, ‘cause the grown-ups can’t fit inside without taking the whole thing apart. I’m glad I didn’t have to do that.”
White’s face, however, had fallen into a grave expression. “Clip, you’re going to tell me everything about this,” he said. “I want to find out what these ponies are doing.”
Clip nodded.
“Good,” said White, resuming his walk.
“White?” asked Clip. “Is Scroll okay?”
“He’s…” White stopped and paused for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to answer. His first thought was to say he didn’t know. But then he smiled. “Yes. He’s okay. He’s a strong pony.”
___________
Scroll, meanwhile, struggled to lift Eagle into his bed.
“Oof!” Scroll said. “For a colt, you sure are heavy.”
Eagle sat up on the cot. “I’m not heavy,” he said, “you’re just a pussy.”
“You like that word, don’t you?” asked Scroll.
“Well, I get more of it than you do,” snapped Eagle. “And I’m not a colt.”
Scroll rolled his eyes and walked over to the bookshelf. He lifted a hoof, checking off the contents in his head.
“You’re going to read something to me?” asked Eagle. “Come on…”
“Eagle, please, just be quiet,” said Scroll. He settled on one book and took it from the shelf, walking over to the desk. “I just need to think here.”
He sat down and laid the book in front of him. Pitfalls and Booby-Traps: A Fun and Practical Guide to Home Defense. “Alright, let’s get started. With this I can set up a, well, okay, maybe I can…” He stopped and stared down at the cover. A picture of a smiling colt, sitting in the bushes and giggling as another pony began to open a box, unaware of a bucket suspended above his head. “No. This won’t work. This is stupid.”
“Getting a good feeling here.”
Scroll chucked the book at Eagle, who ducked just in time for the book to slam into the wall right behind where his face had been. “Shut up!”
___________
Princess entered Aq’s room. The lights were on, but Aq was fast asleep on his cot. The only sign of his broken jaw was the cloth tied around his muzzle, holding it shut.
She walked to his side and sat down. When she saw what White had done to him, smashing his jaw, she was terrified. But now he was fine, sleeping, and as handsome as ever.
She heard the door open, though she did not turn to see who it was. There was the sound of hoofsteps as a pony circled around the side of the bed. It was the surgeon who was to have attended him.
“Will he be well?” asked Princess.
“Yes, he should make a full recovery,” said the surgeon, placing a hoof on Aq’s head. He inspected Aq’s muzzle, his eyes scanning the jawline. “White seems to have done a fine job repairing his jaw.”
Princess put her hoof to Aq’s. “How long will it be until he can walk again?”
“Oh, he can probably leave tomorrow,” said the surgeon as he looked over a clipboard. “He broke his jaw, not his leg.” He smiled at Princess. “I can tell him you were here when he wakes, your highness.”
Princess looked up and smiled back. “Yes,” she said, standing up. “I would greatly appreciate that.”
___________
It seemed that everypony in the world was having a miserable day. Everypony, that is, except for Clip. It was true that seeing a pony he admired brutally shattering another stallion’s jaw was upsetting. But it was also true that there was nothing in the world that was more fun than bouncing on a bed.
He’d never had a bed like this. He’d slept on clouds, on the hard ground, in cots provided by earth ponies on the island and the missionaries. The missionaries had nice cots.
But this was something else entirely. A giant, red, plush trampoline. It was the best thing ever.
White sat at his hardwood desk, slouched but relaxed. He watched Clip bouncing on the bed and smiled. “You can sleep there tonight.”
“Where will you sleep?” asked Clip.
“Umm…” White looked around the room. “I’ll get to that later…” He sat in thought—or he would have, if any thoughts came into his mind—as Clip continued jumping. He looked at the blank sheet of white paper on his desk. A quill sat beside it. White wished he had some idea of what to write, some wisdom to commit to paper, but his mind was blank.
Too much has happened today, he thought. I can’t think straight. I need to lie down. He looked over at the bed. Clip was still at it. …Never mind.
The door opened. Clip stopped jumping, falling to the bed on all four hooves and looking to the doorway. White turned around to look, and both of them saw Princess standing in the doorway. Were it not for her stern expression, she might have appeared haughty, as she was puffed-up and straight-legged.
“I paid a visit to Aq today,” said Princess. She raised a hoof and calmly regarded it. “You seem to have done well.”
“White’s going to be a dentist,” said Clip. “So yeah.”
White slouched in his chair. “Yes?” he asked.
She walked into the room, looking down her nose at Clip. “So this is the foal that Aq spoke of.”
Clip blinked. He found that an odd way of referring to him. “Hello?”
Princess turned from him and back to White. “So this is representative of the actions of the earth pony barbarians?” she asked. “These are the ponies you claim to side with?”
“No I didn’t,” said White. “I didn’t say anything about… sides or anything.”
“Oh, of course not,” said Princess, “pardon me, I forgot you were a pacifist. Quite noble of you to repair Aq’s jaw after breaking it.” She surveyed White’s blank stare. “Surely, you should be feeling better?”
White met her gaze dispassionately. “Why did you come here?” he asked.
“Because I wanted to see how you were holding up,” she said, the faintest trace of a smirk on her face. “Tell me, when you decided to fix Aq’s jaw, how did you feel? Did it make you feel good? Magnanimous? Noble, that you would give such aid to an enemy? Or perhaps you told yourself that Aq wasn’t an enemy at all. Maybe you felt guilty because you hurt him. Maybe you felt good when you hurt him, and that woke you to something about yourself you didn’t want to know? I just have to wonder how much of it comes down to the lies you tell about yourself.”
White regarded Princess for a few moments, his face unreadable, before he finally said: “What are you asking?”
“What made you feel better?” she asked. “Breaking or fixing his jaw? Would you have have even fixed it if the foal had, in fact, perished?”
“You talk funny,” said Clip.
Princess ignored him. “I just wonder, White, what are the lies you tell about yourself?” she took a step forward. “You said that you don’t hate. But that seems to be a lie. I know you hate Aq.”
“Get out,” said White. He didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t want to think about it.
“Oh, you can repair his jaw and tell yourself that all the malice is gone, but still, when you come to look upon him again—”
“I said get out!”
White was on his feet, his brow furrowed in rage. Princess regarded him with a look of cool amusement.
“Well,” she said, starting to turn around. “It’s something to think about.”
He stood there and watched as she left the room, before sitting down at his desk. He sighed, ruffling his mane. He didn’t know how he was supposed to do his missionary work in these conditions. General Quake might’ve threatened bodily harm on a daily basis, but at least he didn’t get in the way of knocking on doors or try to deliberately undermine him. At least he didn’t gloat that much. He probably thought gloating was “faggy.”
Clip sat down at the edge of the bed. “I don’t think I like her.”
White chuckled. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” said Clip. “Like, she smiles all the time, but she doesn’t mean it.” He stuck out his tongue. “Mares.”
“Now, Clip—”
“They’re weeeeird!” Clip whined. “And gross! And their manes are too long…”
White chuckled. “Now, Clip, I’ve told you, that’s not a healthy attitude to have. I mean, a pony can’t just say that, that mares are bad or whatever. I mean, think of what it’d be like with no mares? After all, everypony has a—” He was about to say ‘everypony has a mom.’ Then he remembered that Clip’s mom had dropped him off of a cloud. “I mean, you’re fine with Tap, aren’t you? You like her.”
“Well, yeah, but…” Clip said, making the face a pony makes when he doesn’t want to admit he’s wrong about something. “They’re still weird.”
White chortled. “Well, they’re different from stallions. They have different bathrooms in Equestria, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” said White. “They actually smell nice.”
There was a knock on the door. White turned to look. Who could that be? The knocking continued, fast and evenly, rhythmic. White approached the door and opened it, to find a short unicorn mare with a spiky, lemon-yellow mane and a patient smile.
White paused. “Hello?”
“Brother White?” she asked, standing very straight and speaking very curtly.
“Yes?” asked White, blinking in confusion.
“I heard you had a pegasus,” she said.
White looked at her for a moment. “Do I know you?” he asked.
She leaned to the side, peeking around him, and then walked right past him into the room, making a beeline for the bed, where Clip watched her, wide-eyed. White got a look at the cutie mark on her flank: it was a candle with what looked like a bright white spark illuminating it from behind.
Clip backed up to the edge of the opposite edge of the bed. “I don’t think I know you.”
“Now, now,” said the mare. “No need to fret, I just want to get a look at you.”
“Now, excuse me,” said White, moving himself between her and the bed. “Who are you, and what do you want?”
“Bright Idea,” said the mare. “Researcher and developer, five-time winner of His Highness’s Royal Explorer Award.”
“Monarch gives out awards?” asked White.
“I don’t know you…” said Clip.
“Hm,” said Bright Idea, walking around White, inspecting Clip, who regarded her the way one regards a firecracker that has inexplicably failed to go off. “He doesn’t have wings.” She looked at White. “Are you sure he’s a pegasus, and not just a dirt pony?”
“I am a pegasus!” piped Clip indignantly.
“His wings were cut off,” said White.
“Ah, right. Can’t forget about dirt pony barbarism.” She sighed. “Not to worry, the wings aren’t important.”
“Important?” asked Clip, backing away until he almost fell off the edge of the bed.
“Miss—” began White.
“Bright Idea,” said she.
“Miss Bright Idea,” said White. “You are scaring Clip. I think you should go.”
“Wait, wait wait wait,” said Bright Idea. “Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here?”
“I did,” said White.
“Well, you see, I heard about your colt here,” she said. She began to pace. “What I was told, from your other missionary friend…”
White’s first thought was to go over to Brother Shine and ask him what he had been thinking. Or maybe apologize. He must’ve done something wrong, somehow, to prompt Shine to do this to him.
“…falls from the sky into the sea, washes up on the island, survives life with the most savage ponies there are…”
“Someday I’m going to look back on this part of my life and the casual racism will make me smile…” White muttered. Bright Idea didn’t seem to notice.
“…and then, when a soldier goes to drop him off the edge…” She stopped and smiled.
White and Clip stared at her. “And?” asked White.
“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Bright Idea, raising a hoof. “Well…” She lowered her hoof. “It’s only a hypothesis, but…” She turned to Clip and smiled. “I think that your young pegasus colt is incapable of dying!”
White and Clip were silent for a moment.
“Excuse me?” asked White.
“Cool!” said Clip.
___________
Barrel was heading things behind the counter. There weren’t that many ponies in the bar, but there were enough that somepony needed to tend to things, collect money, and make sure that drinks were served. Tap was currently occupied with somepony else upstairs.
There was a shout from upstairs. “Hey!” went Tap’s voice.
Barrel looked up at the ceiling as he heard loud footsteps. They started to thunder down the staircase, and although Barrel didn’t know exactly what was going on, he knew what it sounded like when someone was trying to run away. He hobbled around the counter as he saw the stallion appear at the bottom of the stairs, not missing a beat as he turn and tried to bolt across the tavern floor.
Barrel shoved a stool, knocking into the fleeing stallion’s path. As the apparent scoundrel was looking over his shoulder, he didn’t see the stool, and he seemed to fly a few feet before slamming face-first into the floor. A small bag hit the floor next to him with a clink.
Tap arrived at the bottom of the stairs, her teeth gritted and her face bearing an expression that said she wanted to kill something. She saw the stallion on the floor and power-walked over to him. “Got you!” she muttered. She leaned down and grabbed the bag in her teeth.
“What happened?” asked Barrel.
“The piece of shit tried to rip me off,” she said. The stallion groaned, putting a hoof to his head. “Get out of my tavern.” She gave him a swift kick in the ass, and he clumsily hobbled his way over to the door.
“Fuck you, you bitch!” he said.
“You gotta pay me for that!” she shouted, shaking the bag a little.
Barrel followed the stallion and shut the door as he left, before turning back to Tap. “He tried to steal?”
“Well, what did it look like?” asked Tap. She walked over to the overturned stool. “Did you do that?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Barrel.
Tap smiled and took her place behind the counter. “Good job. You saved us some money. Just make sure you kick his ass out of here if he shows again.” Barrel nodded. “Good.” She eyed the bottles of whiskey. “Save money… or drink?” she muttered. She sighed. “Fuck.”
“I’d go with ‘save money,’” said Barrel. Tap raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean, just saying.”
Tap nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But some ponies are just so… ugh. Sometimes I just feel I need a drink.”
The door opened. Tap looked up and saw Scroll standing there, his head bobbing up and down as he took deep, deep breaths. She grabbed the nearest bottle off the counter.
Scroll lurched over to the counter. “Tap!” he said. “I’m…” He stopped and leaned on the counter as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m… sorry to… bother… again… but… need your… help… with something…”
Tap kept her hoof on the bottle. “Yes?”
Scroll sat down on a stool and held up a hoof as he continued to catch his breath. “I’m sorry,” he panted. “I just didn’t know who else I could go to.” He looked around. The other ponies in the room (and there weren’t many of them) had noticed him walk in, but were otherwise just minding their own business and tending to their own conversations. Still, Scroll was cautious. “Do you think we could talk about this privately?” he asked in a quiet voice. “Away from the…” He nodded his head in the direction of the other bar patrons.
“Why?” asked Barrel. “What is it?”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Tap, who felt she had a good guess of what Scroll was talking about. “Come on, let’s head upstairs.”
Scroll nodded and followed as Tap led him. As they entered her room, Scroll looked around. It was about the same as it had been the last time he was in here, although now the window was broken.
“Oh dear,” he said, pointing. “You’d better fix that.”
Tap shrugged. “I’ll handle it once the glass-maker is working again. If he’s not dead.” She paused, considering the possibility. “Shit, that’d be awful.”
She walked over to the window and looked out the cracked pane. She saw a colt sitting on the roof across from them, preparing to drop a large snowball onto a pedestrian below, and she couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “So,” she said, turning around. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say Eagle’s been giving you trouble?”
“Worse,” said Scroll, now a great deal calmer. “They know he’s here.”
Tap paused for a moment. “They? You mean…”
“Gunner and Trigger Mark,” said Scroll. “They stopped by today and wanted to come into the library. I think they know.”
Tap remembered how Trigger Mark questioned her about her gun. “Shit…” she hissed.
Scroll nodded solemnly. “I think they’re going to try to kill him if they can.”
Tap crossed the room, thinking. “Does anypony else know about it?”
Scroll thought about it for a moment. “No, I don’t think they’ve told anyone. I think they want to keep it quiet.”
“If Quake finds out, he’s going to kill you.”
“What, you think I, I didn’t think of that?” asked Scroll. He rubbed his mane nervously with his hoof. “Now I need to find some way to, to solve this, to figure it out or something and, but I don’t know what to do!”
“Scroll, quiet down,” said Tap, going to the window. She peered out of it. Nopony seemed to have taken notice, but it was best to stay cautious. She closed the blinds. “Keep it up and soon the whole town will know.”
“Sorry.” Scroll looked over on her nightstand. There sat a dusty copy of the Book of Friendship.
“So you’re sure it’s just Gunner and Trigger Mark, right?” asked Tap.
“Right.”
“And you’re sure they haven’t told anyone?” she asked.
“Well, not yet,” said Scroll, rubbing the floor nervously with his hoof. “I don’t know. They might, I just… I don’t know what’s going to happen. They could come back. They could tell.” He paused. “They could… well, no, I…” His voice dropped to a whisper and he looked down at the floor.
“What? What is it?”
“I was just thinking… they’re attacking the pegasi, and, well, they, they might…” He swallowed. “They might die. Ponies—A lot of ponies, probably, are going to die tonight. I don’t want that to happen.”
“Yeah, well,” Tap started. That’s awfully morbid for him, she thought. “We, okay, let’s just keep it simple. Trigger Mark and Gunner know about the pegasus, and if they come back from the attack, they’re going to, well, come back and finish the job.”
“I need to hide him,” said Scroll. “There’s got to be somewhere. Maybe you can—”
“Scroll, no, I’m not having him in my h—”
“I wasn’t going to say that I’m just saying I need some help to…” He took several deep breaths. “Maybe in the middle the night we could carry him, like, to some abandoned hut in the woods…”
“Carry a belligerent pegasus through the streets here? We could be seen. What then?”
“Well, not through the town. We could go around.”
“Go around,” Tap said, a little incredulous.
“Yeah. Like, counter-clockwise around the island,” said Scroll, tracing a circle with his hoof. “I mean, there’s more island that isn’t town than there is that, uh, is. Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Tonight we could just take him around the island, and find someplace safe to put him—”
“Maybe you should just turn him over.”
Scroll stared blankly at a her for several seconds. “What?”
Tap sighed. “Scroll, this isn’t going to end well. Trigger Mark likes you, and he’s, well, he’s trying to solve this quietly before anyone who doesn’t like you finds out. And face it, Eagle is, well, y’know…”
“What?” asked Scroll.
“He’s dangerous, Scroll,” said Tap. “He tried to kill you. Twice.”
“He’s completely helpless.”
“He is now. What happens when his wings heal? What happens when he’s strong enough to fight again and he doesn’t need you to keep things cushy? What, do you just think that some sick fuck like that is going to be, just going to be grateful that you helped him?”
“Yes,” said Scroll, pressing his hoof to the floor. “Maybe this is a chance. Maybe once, just once, you could think of it as—”
“A chance?” asked Tap. “A chance for what?”
“Mercy,” said Scroll. “Maybe we could try it for once. Every time a pegasus or a unicorn ends up here, whether they’re a soldier or they just had the bad luck to fall onto here, they’re brutalized or murdered. Here…” He paused and breathed. “This pegasus soldier. He isn’t even as old as I am. He’s wounded, scared, and he has nowhere to go. Maybe if we actually managed to show kindness to him, well… Maybe that could make a difference.”
“You want to take that chance?” asked Tap. “You think it’s worth risking your safety? Over a pony who’s tried to kill you twice?”
Scroll looked at the book at Tap’s bedside. “It’s what they would do.” He looked back to Tap. “And it’s what White would do.”
“White’s not here, Scroll,” said Tap. “And if you’re not careful, you might not be here, either.”
Scroll looked at her for a while. Then he said, “I have to, Tap.” His voice was soft. “What can I do if I abandon what I’ve been trying to do now, when it really matters? If I give Eagle up to Trigger Mark and Gunner, and let them kill him, I…” He shook his head. “I don’t have a mission anymore after that. Nothing I say will ever matter again. Because then everything that I’ve tried to teach, everything that the Fraternity stands for, everything that Twilight Sparkle and her friends ever wrote or learned… It will all be a lie. And none of you will ever believe it. And I’ll have failed at everything I’ve ever done.”
He turned around and started to walk out of the room. “You don’t have to help me,” said Scroll, looking back at her. “But you can’t convince me that I’m doing the wrong thing.” He left.
Tap stood there for a minute, thinking. Scroll obviously wasn’t going to back down from this, so she was in a tough predicament. She had to help him.
Wait, she thought, I don’t have to… oh, fuck it.
She’d have to think on it some more. She walked downstairs, remembering she had a bar to run. When she reached the floor of the tavern, she saw one pony on the floor, holding his muzzle, while another pony stood above him looking mighty pleased with himself. Barrel, meanwhile, stayed where he had been, presumably frozen with fright.
“Great, I missed a barfight,” she said, going behind the counter. “C’mon, Barrel, it’s nothing to worry about.”
Barrel nodded. “What did Scroll want?”
“He’s got a problem and he needs help with it,” said Tap. “I’d rather not go into details.”
“Oh,” said Barrel. He went quiet again, and returned to pour the drink of a customer who had been irritably tapping his tankard on the counter. “Are you going to help him?”
Tap paused. “I guess I have to,” she said. “I don’t want anything to happen to him. I just don’t know what to do.”
The pony who had lost the barfight pulled himself to the counter, smiling through his bloody muzzle. “Whazzis? The missionary guy?” he asked. “I miss the horner. Everypony called him a faggot, but hey, he held his own in a fight on the first day. Too bad he never came back for another. He was alright.”
Tap stared at him. “Uh… huh.”
“Is there anything I can do?” asked Barrel, as the customer happily buried himself in alcohol.
“No, Barrel,” said Tap. “I’ll handle it myself.”
“Are you sure?” asked Barrel.
“No,” said Tap firmly. She then caught herself, realizing what she said. “I mean, yes. Stay out of it.”
“Oh.” Barrel was quiet for a moment as Tap continued to serve customers. “Is this because I got shot?”
“Barrel…”
“Don’t say ‘Barrel,’” said Barrel. “Just tell me if it’s ‘cause I got shot.”
Tap was quiet for a moment. “Yes,” she said, finally. “They… do some stupid things, and I don’t want you putting yourself in danger ‘cause you want to do what they do.”
“I did it to protect them.”
“Yes, but—”
“You’d do the same for me,” said Barrel. “That’s what family’s about.”
Tap was silent for a moment. “They aren’t family.”
“They aren’t?” asked Barrel. “We let them live with us. We shared what we had with them. So did they.”
“That’s not…” Tap groaned. “They’re good friends, it’s just… not like that.”
“They could be.”
Tap looked at him. She was silent for a moment. “I don’t want to take that risk.”
“Risk?” asked Barrel. “What… what kind of ‘risk’ is that? What’s the risk about family?”
“If you let ponies get too close to you, you can get hurt.”
“Do you think that they’d do anything to hurt us?”
Tap turned away, occupying herself in the inspection of a tankard. “Sometimes, they don’t have to do anything.” She put the tankard down. “White nearly got killed because he stuck his neck out for some poor sap. Do you think we can afford to do that?”
Barrel was silent for a minute. Tap returned to attending customers, refilling their drinks and letting them look at her ass.
“Maybe,” Barrel said when she returned to the counter, “things are bad here because nopony’s willing to stick their necks out for everypony. We just shut ourselves in and do what’s best for ourselves, and don’t care what happens to others.”
Tap looked at him, and he looked back at her.
“Maybe,” he continued, “maybe we need more family.”
___________
Buzz stared at the three-legged stool in front of him, breathing heavily. Finally, he’d gotten it right. There was nothing wrong with this one. It wasn’t crooked, uneven, it wasn’t going to collapse when somepony tried to sit on it, and it didn’t wobble. He’d made a three-legged stool that wobbled, once. It still shamed him.
He looked at the lamp next to him. It was too dim and too cold. The fucking wingers and their fucking snow. They ruined everything. Except for the stool. The stool was still fine.
There was a knock on the door. Buzz looked up. “Who is it?” he asked.
The door opened, with Scroll standing timidly outside. “Are you open?” he asked.
“What do you want?” asked Buzz.
“A box.”
Buzz stared at him for a moment. “Come in,” he said.
Scroll walked in, shaking the snow off of his hooves on the porch.
Buzz still regarded him with a suspicious look. “What kind of box?”
___________
Being an earth pony, Gunner had never flown before. At first it was exciting. Then it was stomach-churning.
Trigger Mark took the pilot seat, pumping at the pedals and spinning the great propellers. Gunner sat behind him, holding his guns.
Their crew of gyrocopters lifted into the air as the night enveloped the island. Gunner dared not look down, for fear he’d fall off, or worse yet, throw up.
There was no wind to guide them, so the ponies at the pedals had to put their all into it. They sailed away from the island in their magnificent flying machines, and Gunner came to the realization that for the first time in foreverhis life, he was away from home. Solid ground was no longer below them, the earth replaced by the dark waters of the sea, softly reflecting the moon above them. Gunner felt small, insignificant, and powerless, engulfed by a great wide space that left him as a speck in the universe.
Time didn’t seem to pass for him. There was a call ahead, as a dark mass of clouds ahead came into view—their target.
The earth ponies circled around at a distance. The pegasi weren’t prepared, The night concealed the earth ponies, and the pegasi wouldn’t expect this kind of attack. There was a shout—Gunner thought it was from one of their commanders. That made the most sense, but he couldn’t be sure—and then the shooting started. The earth ponies stormed in on their MAGNIFICENT flying machines, peppering the clouds with bullets from rifles and machine guns. Many pegasi fell instantly, or almost instantly. Those that didn’t quickly scrambled, getting to their hooves, taking to the air, and they began to fight back.The din of the battle raged around them, filling Gunner’s ears with the sound of wind, gunfire, and thunder.
He looked to one of the clouds. He saw one familiar pegasus sitting on the cloud, next to another pegasus who was lying, bleeding onto the cloud. He recognized that pegasus—where had he seen him before? He saw the pegasus look up, shouting around him, and he looked right at him, and he remembered: it was Brother Sky, the old missionary. That seemed like a long time ago, Gunner thought. There was a crack of a gunshot and Sky recoiled, his face constrained in pain as he let out a cry.
Why had that happened? Sky hadn’t been doing anything, had he? There was no reason to shoot him, after all… But why were they here? Gunner had shot ponies before, lots of times, but that had always been in defense of his home. But this attack… why were they doing it? Gunner remembered he had wanted to hit back after so many times of being attacked, but now he wasn’t sure.
The air lit as General Storm clanked her iron boots together, tossing bolts of lightning through the sky. Gunner saw one of the gyrocopters struck, its occupants snuffed out in a flash as the wreckage fell through the clouds below.
It was at that moment that he froze. All around him was noise and air, and he realized he was helpless, with no ground below him, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He was still, suspended over an abyss with no bottom. He could hear someone shouting his name. He seemed loud, but he could barely hear it above the cacophony around his head.
“Gunner!” shouted Trigger Mark. “To our left!”
Gunner snapped from his shock and saw a pegasus soldier beside him, aiming a gun. Gunner had no time to think and turned his rifle, firing at the attacker. The soldier dropped and fell, hitting the cloud with a soft thud.
Gunner stared down at the felled body of the soldier. The cloud was so white, and drops of blood leaked from the wound, staining the cloud red as the soldier bled out. But still, so much of the cloud held the pristine white. Sometimes there wasn’t as much blood as you thought there’d be. And he’d shot so quickly and so easily.
And then Gunner remembered what had happened earlier in the day, and he froze. With the carnage and the slaughter around him, the din of gunfire and thunder ringing around his ears like a hurricane, he shut down. The last thing in that battle he remembered seeing was the sight of the pegasus soldier sinking slowly into the clouds as his life left him, tumbling through the bottom and into the dark abyss of the sea below.