//------------------------------// // An Old and New Friend // Story: An Old Mare's Tale: Gadgets, Bringer of SCIENCE! // by Forevermore //------------------------------// Alive. Calamity’s eyes snapped open. She was laying on a large, comfortable bed and in a strange room tastefully decorated with bronze furniture covered in gears that clicked and whirred softly in the dim light being supplied by a ring of glowing orbs set at what would be shoulder-height had she been standing. She was grateful for the dimness as her eyes did not yet feel up to the harshness of the sun. The brownie groaned and attempted to sit up, but something tight constricting her chest made this action impossible. Blinking slowly, she craned her neck down to see her chest bound in clean white bandages. Memories of the previous day came flooding back. Her arrival aboard The Inconceivable, her duel with the tiny earth pony, and the blow he’d struck against her. Cal trembled at the memory, by rights she should be dead. That she wasn’t was either a cause for concern or the result of all the alcohol in her system keeping her alive. But if the latter were true, where had the bandages come from? With tense, awkward movements, Cal swung her legs over the side of the bed, set her paws against the cold floor, and raised herself gently until she was standing tall. There was no pain from her chest but her limbs were stiff and sore, as if she hadn’t moved for days. How long had she been out? Cursing under her breath at the stubbornness of her own body, Cal stumbled to the door, and after a moment of fumbling with the latch, managed to swing it open and step out into a spacious hallway. The plush carpet was filled with warmth, as if heated from underneath, and the walls were lit by more of the flameless lanterns. To her left, a shaft of light coming from above lit a small staircase. Raising a hand to her chest to make sure the bandages stayed in place, Cal shambled along the hall, leaning against the wall for support as she made her way to the light. Climbing the stairs was difficult, but not as impossible as she might have thought. She emerged moments later into glaring sunlight and the thrumming sound of...giant fans? A familiar dragon was leaning against the railing some distance away, watching her with heavy lidded eyes. “So,” he murmured, “you survive.” Cal grinned at him weakly, “Surprised?” “Not particularly. Gadgets has brought ponies back from worse.” Cal grimaced and slid down the wall, “Why am I alive?” Darkfang raised an eyeridge and strode over to crouch in front of her. “Because Gadgets desired it, and because he thinks you could be saved.” “What makes you think I need saving?” The dragon’s expression was unreadable, “I know what happened to the brownies. I know where you came from. I was there.” “Good for you.” “The Black Hoof was never family for you. They used, corrupted, and almost destroyed your soul. But you survived, and that means not all of you has been lost.” The brownie glared up at the much larger creature, his words cut her to the core but she would be damned before she let him know that! “What is it that you want from me?” she snarled. “It’s not what I want,” Darkfang muttered, “it’s what you want.” “And what do I want?” “To be free.” Cal looked at him, her heart fluttering despite her will. Freedom was a concept she had never entertained, not since the Dreamer had shown her how easily replaceable she truly was. “At what price?” she whispered, so quiet as to be imperceptible to pony ears. The dragon extended a claw, “Your friendship.” Cal hesitated for a moment, then clasped his scaly hand with her furry one. “Deal,” she said. The ship exploded into noise as fireworks crackled in the air, streamers and confetti exploded from every surface, and half a dozen noteworthy individuals sprung from their hiding places. “Welcome to the crew!” shouted a lithe, red griffon, clasping her paw with enough force that the brownie worried it was now broken. Hundreds of tiny machines poured out of dozens of hitherto unnoticed maintenance hatches scattered about the deck, carrying with them all the materials necessary for a grand celebration. Heaps of fresh-baked goods, platters of fruits and vegetables, banners of silk reading “WELCOME ABOARD, NEW FRIEND!”, and of course, new clothes. For the first time in a long time, Cal smiled with genuine happiness as she accepted the new garments. Of her original clothing, only her trousers remained, the rest had been destroyed during her battle with Gadgets (who was currently on the losing end of a drinking contest with a blue griffon), but her surviving katanas had been returned. Her beloved sniper rifle was there as well. A new, short-sleeved coat, made of a shiny black material she didn’t know the name of, fell down to her ankles. Along with it came gilded tekkai, made of meteoric iron, along all four forearms, and shins. A faux-leather, pearl studded belt went around her waist, a pair of bronze repeaters holstered on either hip. With a grin, she allowed the pegasus filly she’d agreed to spare to braid her hair with some dark string. A single braid framing either side of her face, and the back of her neck. In gratitude, Cal kissed the cheeky little foal on the forehead, eliciting a stream of giggles from the adorable fiend. Feeling the weight of a life of solitude and despair lifting from her heart, the former assassin turned her face into the wind, letting it wash over her in its loving caress. Things were going to be better from now on, she could feel it in the wind. As if mother nature herself was rejoicing with her lost child, now found.