In Another Life II: Chance's Folly

by Bateman66

Not So Fast!

Twilight Sparkle scanned the train yard with her binoculars, a subtle levitation spell holding the apparatus close to her face. Sweeping ever so slightly, she moved in a systematic sweep, taking in whatever she could see with her quizzical eyes.

The approaching autumn wind blew as an ambient wave, perpetually making the purple scarf she wore around her neck flow vertically behind her. Putting the binoculars down, she stared behind herself at the two young colts who greatly contrasted between her stoic bravery.

Jam, a red colt with a curly brown mane, and Commodore, a blue colt with a shaggy navy mane, shivered restlessly in the frigid night, their glasses jangling uncontrollably as they shook closely together in a huddle.

“F-F-First cold night of A-A-August j-j-just had to be tonight,” muttered Commodore to Jam, his chattering teeth clicking along like cicadas in summer.

Jam nodded shakily in agreement to his friend and turned to Twilight. “Ms. S-S-Sparkle, d-d-do you see a-a-anything?”

Twilight put her hoof up to silence him and quickly brought the binoculars back to her face. Starring intently to the north of the train yard, Twilight spoke to them.

“I think I see them. There’s movement over by that passenger train that arrived not long ago.”

“You think they’re t-t-the ones who h-h-have Alistair?” asked Commodore.

Twilight flipped open her saddle bag and set the binoculars inside. “I’m not sure. Let’s get a closer look.”

Sliding down the small dirt hill that overlooked the yard, Twilight effortless made her way to the sea of snaking train cars, Jam and Commodore clumsily in close pursuit.

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Shale Press hated to be standing out in the open, especially since the train was now behind in its departure time. However, she knew that it was her duty to oversee the transport of the human, and thus, she watched closely as agent eight and ten slowly loaded the shipping crate that contained it into the cargo hold.

“Be careful,” she said lowly but with authority, “we mustn’t damage the package.”

“Yes ma’am,” said both stallion agents as they gingerly slid the box through the small metal opening on the side. After a few minutes of careful pressure the container was in and the opening was quickly shut.

Nodding at the stallions work, she gestured for them to follow her towards the closest passenger car. Moving without a word, Shale methodically informed them of their duties.

“Agent eight and ten, your patrol posts are from cars seven to twelve. Stay close to one another and inform myself or any other nearby agent if you believe something is amiss. If things truly seem out of hoof, such as the human escaping or intervention by the authorities, quickly hit one of the red emergency buttons at the end of each car.”

“What will that do ma’am?” asked the nasally and lanky Agent eight.

“The entire train will be notified and severe defensive tactics will be implemented. You are free to use whatever tools you have available to secure your posts at all times.”

Reaching one of the cars, the three ponies walked up the metal entry steps and slid the auto-locking door shut. A few moments later, the engine of the train rumbled alive and they began to move slowly out of the train yard. All was according to plan.

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A few minutes earlier, Twilight, Commodore and Jam crouched stealthily along the edge of a dark purple boxcar. Peering around the corner of it quickly, Twilight turned to the two.

“I can see the train, its right around the corner. Looks like their loading something into one of the cargo cars.”

“Can you see what it is?” asked Commodore.

Twilight shook her head. “It’s sealed shut, but since it’s taking three ponies to place inside, it must be important.”

“How do we do this then?” asked Jam from behind Commodore. “Call the guards? Follow after them?”

Twilight glanced around the corner once again. “That won’t be necessary, at least not yet. I have a different plan in mind.”

“That being…?”

“Well, it involves you two--”

“What!?” yelled the two colts in unison, not very mindful of the silence they were supposed to be keeping.

“Yes,” repeated Twilight in an even quieter whisper, trying to remind her companions about the importance of silence. “I need you two to sneak aboard the train and try to locate Alistair. I assume he’s most likely somewhere in the cargo space.”

“And what if he’s not there?” said Commodore indignantly. “What do we do then?”

“Just shut down, stay put, and wait for rescue. I’m going to be getting the Guard’s once we split up but I’m not sure how long it’s going to take.”

“Split up…?” said Commodore weakly.

“How would you find us then?” said Jam as he ignored his pal’s whimpyness. “If the train starts moving and possibly switches onto another track, how could the Guards find us?”

“The tracking spell’s still working, no matter how far away.”

“Convenient,” mumbled Commodore.

Twilight smiled at them, a sense of hopefulness returning to her face. “You guys ready then?”

Commodore paled. “W-What about the three p-ponies around the corner?”

“Gone, been gone for about thirty seconds. Now go.”

“But--”

“Go!”

Jolting to their hoofs, Jam and Commodore clumsily ran around the corner and looked around for the cargo car. Seeing it a few yards away, Commodore bumped Jam on the shoulder and gestured for him to follow.

Cranking open the slide away latch, the two precariously stepped inside the tall dark rectangle and quickly slide the door behind them. Latching it with the inside bolt, they breathed a sigh of relief as the train suddenly came to life and began moving.

“We did it!” announced Commodore excitedly. “And we’re moving!”

“I think she was counting on that,” said Jam as he looked around the dark space. “Now, where’s the light switch in here.”

Commodore began to blindly feel along the wall. “I think…it might be…somewhere close…by!”

The lights suddenly flicked on, dimly illuminating the storage case and revealing all the items within in it. Scattered about were several small wooden crates stacked along metal shelves held up by skinny wooden planks. Several larger boxes were piled on top of one another, safely tucked within the corners of the car.

Standing out from all of this, smack dab in the middle of the unequipped space between the shelves and stacks, was a peculiar looking crate. It was low to the ground as most boxes, but its length from end to end seemed to be drastically expanded from normal containers. Stamped along the top in bright red paint was the message: Fragile.

The two stood over the odd looking box, both staring down at the message painted across it.

“You think that’s him?” asked Jam.

Commodore rubbed the few hairs on his chin. “Only one way to find out.”