• Published 7th Mar 2012
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TCB: The Ballad of the White Rose - BillyColt



Student protesters on a zeppelin.

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The Radio/Mediations

Memory 2
The Radio

I remember when I got my cutie mark. It was two days after my birthday, when my parents got me a little ham radio set. They told me I could use it to talk to the whole world.

So I took that little ham radio set and I tried to use it. For two days I tinkered with it, trying to receive and broadcast signals. I tried using my magic to prod at it, try to get its inner workings figured out.

Then, something just clicked. I tapped into that radio and I could see everything. I could see the waves in the air and hear everything that was being broadcast. Every piece of music, every bit of news, every Sunday morning joke show, every traffic and weather report. I could hear them, and at the very center, connected to all of them, was me. I could hear all the voices calling through the air, and every one of them saying the exact same thing:

Listen to me.

Chapter 3
Mediations

Celestia looked over her little committee of advisors. Her sister sat next to her, but she did not see the importance of the meeting.

“I do not see why we should be so concerned about an airship in town, particularly not an airship you sent away,” she said.

“Sometimes things that don’t seem that bad on the surface can be much, much worse underneath,” replied Celestia. “Now, here are the details – earlier today, on the anniversary of the end of humanity, a zeppelin flew over Canterlot. They sent out a broadcast reminding everypony of the date, and accusing me of genocide.”

“Genocide?” asked one of the advisors, a meek, pink earth pony. “What does that mean?”

“It means wiping out an entire genome,” replied one of the other advisors, a bespectacled, light amber unicorn. “Something the humans were very fond of doing to themselves, I should point out.”

“This is beside the point,” said Princess Celestia. “As it is, there are two issues. The first, and most obvious, is the effect this will have on the ponies in Canterlot.”

“I don’t think much will come of it,” said Princess Luna. “Their little speech seemed a bit too cryptic to actually spur anypony to action.”

“I think we can easily counteract their little radio show with a little public education,” said the amber unicorn. “Introduce a little human history in the school curriculum, run a little editorial in the paper. Remind them why the humans are gone. If any of them were questioning after that stunt, they won’t after they’re properly informed. Worst comes to worst, we could go on a few talkshows and dispel anything untowards.”

“Thank you, Decree,” said Celestia with a nod. “As for these ponies, we should try to find out as much as we can about them.”

“What do we know already?” asked Luna.

“The leader is named Firebrand,” said Celestia. “One of their members is named Vox. They’re young ponies, and from what Firebrand said, they have human ancestry.”

Decree snorted. “Figures. That could explain their rather un-ponylike behavior.”

The pink earth pony looked at him. “Huh?”

“Well, all that anger that their little ringleader has,” said Decree. “You’d never see that from a pony. Humans acted like that, though. Got so full of hate at absolutely nothing.”

“But... didn’t the conversions take that away?” asked another advisor. Murmurs went around the table.

“Apparently they weren’t thorough enough.”

“I bet it was the PER,” said one. “They were always sloppy and unprofessional.”

Don’t talk about the PER,” said Decree. “My great-grandparents were with the PER, and they were instrumental in securing the world we have today. So think twice before you belittle–”

Gentlestallions!” Luna boomed. “This is unproductive.”

“See if you can find anything,” said Celestia. “I thank you all for this, but I must return to my other royal duties.” She rose from her seat and departed from the chamber. Her sister, however, had other questions for her. She did, thankfully, have the courtesy to wait until they were out of earshot from the advisors.

“This is troubling you about these... protesters,” she said. “I think you may be worrying about them too much.”

“I can sense something,” Celestia said. “Can’t you?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“I didn’t get to be the ruler of Equestria by having the biggest horn, Luna. There are things I know, or sometimes... sometimes I just know when something is important.”

“And... this 'Firebrand’?” asked Luna. “He is important?”

“I’m not sure. I just know that we haven’t seen the last of his band. I know that something isn’t right.”

“Then what do we do?”

“All we can do right now,” she said, “is try to put the pieces together and act accordingly. And hope, just... hope that things will be alright.”
-
Sweeps the janitor wasn’t really “in” with Firebrand’s whole “White Rose” club. He wasn’t really on-board with the whole “revolt against the princesses” thing, and he understood fairly little about humanity and its end. Unlike the other crew members, he himself did not have human ancestors, so he lacked that personal connection.

But he loved the ship. He’d always wanted to be on a zeppelin, and the chance to fly on one, especially a ship such as the White Rose, was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

He made his way down the hallway, admiring the view out the windows – they were still just flying over open sea, but it was still a breathtaking sight.

At the end of the hall was the engine room. Sweeps could hear the dull hum of the ships engine from behind the door. He ruffled his wings a little – he could only imagine how dirty it might be in there.

There wasn’t any sort of off-limits sign, so he opened the door and peered inside. The engine, which propelled the ship, was roaring, while Cogs kept a watch on it. Her brother, Bolter, was reclining on a bench, enjoying a cola.

True to Sweeps’s expectations, the engine room was filthy, and the two engineers did not seem all that concerned with bathing, as even their brown coats couldn’t hide the dirt and oil.

“Well, heya, Sweeps,” said Bolter. “What brings you to the back end?”

“Oh, nothing,” Sweeps said, shrugging. “Just wanted to see the thing that makes the magic happen.”

“Eh, engine’s not that special,” said Bolter. “Just turns the propellers. The actual flying’s because it’s, well, a big balloon.”

“A very big balloon,” said Cogs.

Sweeps walked in, taking a look around. He marvelled at the contrast between the ships pristine white exterior and the dingy interior.

“Not a whole lot going on here,” said Cogs. “Might not look like much, but she runs well.”

“Makes our job seem more like a ride sometimes,” said Bolter.

“Heh,” chuckled Sweeps. “Yeah, I’m just along for a ride, too.”

Bolter took another drink of cola. “Yeah, you’re not, uh...”

“Not a human descendant, no,” said Sweeps.

“Ah,” said Bolter.

Sweeps sat down on what seemed like the least dusty section of the bench. “So... that’s why you’re here?”

“Huh?” asked Bolter.

“On this whole, um...” Sweeps looked for a delicate way to put it. “This ‘cause.’ Against Princess Celestia.”

“And Luna,” corrected Cogs.

“Well... what made you want to do this?” asked Sweeps.

Bolter finished off the rest of his cola. “Well, y’know Twilight Sparkle?”

“Princess Celestia’s old student?”

“That’s the one,” said Bolter. “I saw some really old archive footage of her speaking at one of the old Conversion Bureaus.”

“What’re those?” asked Sweeps.

“They were the old buildings,” said Cogs, “where the humans were turned into ponies. I’m gonna go get some more soda, k?”

“Sure,” said Bolter as Cogs left the engine room.

“Oh, okay...” said Sweeps. “But what about Twilight Sparkle?”

“Well,” Bolter continued, “I saw an old archived film of a speech she gave. Basically, she was talking about how humans are vain and stupid and greedy and how the people there made the right choice by converting.”

Bolter’s voice had gone low, and he kept looking at his cola bottle, as though wishing there were more in it. He gave a bitter chuckle.

“Y’know, it’s funny,” said Bolter. “It was at that point that I realized that I’d never been more angry in my life. I’d never really hated anything before that.”

“So you hated her?”

“Well, I hated what she was saying,” said Bolter. “I’m amazed they all didn’t get up and march right out of the room at that. History books sure never mentioned Twilight Sparkle being a racist. Guess it’s because there isn’t anypony left to complain.”

“Well, except you folks.”

“Mm-hmm.”

The door swung open and Cogs re-entered, carrying a pack of sodas.

“Next town we stop in we need groceries,” she said. “Assuming we get to a town anytime soon. Nice of the princess to leave us stranded over the water.”

“Say...” said Bolter. “Cogs, Sweeps here isn’t familiar with our old human traditions. I think tonight would be a good chance.”

“Huh?” asked Sweeps.

“I think that tonight we should indulge in that timeless human ritual,” said Bolter. “Movie night!”
-
Signal stood at the door to the bridge. The captain’s eyes were glued straight ahead as he guided the ship forward.

“Well,” she said. “Where are we going now?”

“I don’t know,” said Firebrand. “Stranded us in the middle of nowhere... you hearing anything?”

“Just usual radio stuff,” she said with a shrug. “Nothing that really tells us where we are. So we just gonna... keep going forward?”

“Unless someone has a better idea,” said Firebrand. “Just keep listening. See if you can find some sort of... near-local thing that’ll tell us where we are. Or any news about us. Definitely make sure you keep track of everything anypony says about us. That’s what’s important...” He mused. “So keep that horn of yours tuned. And as soon as we come across some civilization make sure Vox and Wordsworth are ready to give a broadcast.”

“Aye aye, captain,” she replied before turning to leave.



“Hey, captain,” said Bolter. “Any luck?”

“Not really,” said Firebrand. “Nothing as far as I can see.”

“Dang,” said Bolter.

“Engine running fine?”

“Yeah, fine,” said Bolter. “Say, uh, we were thinking of having a movie night. I mean, Cogs and I have some old film reels and we thought it’d be something fun to do...” There was a pause. “Cap’n?”

“Hold on...” Firebrand saw something poking up over the horizon: a tower of some sort. Had they finally come across solid ground? “I think we might’ve found something that isn’t water,” he said. “Yeah, movie night. We can do that. Anyway, stay on the line. We might be getting ready for a landing.” He gripped the steering wheel, grinning.
-
Decree stopped for a spot of tea at a local cafe. He surveyed the other ponies around them. They were going about their business as though everything were normal, and nothing had happened earlier that day. He smiled and took a sip. Seemed that everything would be absolutely fine. In all honesty, he didn’t know why Princess Celestia seemed concerned.

Those ponies on the zeppelin were just some whiny little malcontents. They popped up every now and again, young ponies hit by a surge of self-importance, just looking for something to complain about. And oh, they decided to complain about the end of humanity. He rolled his eyes and looked up at the sky.

It was a beautiful day. The sky was as blue as it could be, painted lightly with cirrus and dotted with birds. Occasionally a pegasus child or two would dark out across the blue, but that was a welcome little bit of excitement. Not like that blimp, which sat in the sky like a big pretentious cloud. He couldn’t understand why those ponies wanted to ruin such a fine day for everypony else...

Decree got up and walked over to a newspaper vendor. The little colt was ecstatic when Decree tossed a spare bit to him, but the royal advisor was not pleased to see the aforementioned pretentious cloud in a big spread on the front page. He’d gotten the late edition. Snorting in disgust, he opened it to the more mundane news – opening of museums, local contests, those sorts of things.

He shook his head. Thinking about the protesters just irritated him. As did a flower display he saw out of the corner of his eye. A mare was happily at work in her flower stall, with a tray of white roses prominently featured.

“What,” he said, “is that?”

The mare blinked at him. “Roses,” she said. “What do they look like?”

“Why are you carrying them?”

“Well, lots of ponies like roses,” she said. “They think they’re romantic. Besides, I carry lots of flowers – roses, lilies, lilacs, iris. I’m partial to iris, myself,” she giggled as she looked at her cutie mark, which bore the image of that flower. “I just thought to myself, what with that blimp that came in today–”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I just thought ‘white roses.’ I haven’t carried those in a while, and since I was thinking of them I decided it was a nice flower. I’m sure a lot of ponies might be thinking of them, too.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “Good for business.”

Decree snorted in disgust and walked on.