• Published 13th Oct 2015
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Utaan - Imploding Colon



Rainbow Dash endures many trials to reach the edge of the world.

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The Whole Ocean's a Rug

“Goddess dammit, Saxon—!”

“Eat a turd, Digiff—”

“Are you out of your mucking mind—?!”

“Oh, like you would have just let him get away with what he saw down there—!”

“Skagra asked you to keep an eye on the bastard—!”

“And I friggin' did—!”

“Saxon, I know you! The only reason he got down there was 'cuz you let him so you could have an excuse to beat up something with a beak for once—!”

“Oh please, Digiff, as if you ever did anything nearly as awesome in your life—!”

“Why you—!”

“Bring it, seafoam huffer—!”

“Knock it off! Both of you—!”

Heaving...

Wincing in pain...

...Keris opened one bruised eye...

... ... ...and then the other...

His armor was completely stripped, exposing red-and-brown feathers stained in multiple places with dry, caked blood. The Lieutenant weakly squinted across the oddly-furnished confines of a dusty office. Several dredgers stood in the room, shifting nervously. In the center, Nixkit struggled to shove Saxon and Digiff apart from one another. On the far end, slumped in the shadows, a familiar figure with two faces sat, calmly watching the frantic scene unfold.

“Dirty dirty digiff!” Saxon stuck his tongue out, grinning wildly. “Can't scrape us some profit to save his scarred hide!”

“At least I'm loyal to this damn place!” the bearded dredger retorted, shouting over Nixkit's shoulder. “You don't see me throwing everything Skagra's ever worked for in the shitter!”

“Ohhhhh cry me a river, ya muckstain. Hahah—!”

“Yeah, laugh it up, dipshit!” Digiff spat. “Everything was fine until you decided to go play whack-a-griffin below deck! Now the Council's down one injured Lieutenant! The moment they realize what's missing, guess where they're gonna send their topmost elite?! Huh?!” Digiff waved a hoof. “I hope they string your balls up on the flagpole as a memorial to collossal stupidity! 'Cuz congratulations, Saxon! You just signed away all of Red Barge to Rohbredden!”

“I'd say let them come!” Saxon snarled, eyes twitching. “We'll shark-prod the whole lot of them until they're a golden roast!” He spun and raised his forelimb before the other stallions. “Huh?! Who's with me?!”

A strong hoof grabbed Saxon's shoulder and spun him around.

Saxon looked up, grinning—WHAM!—only to be punched squarely in the face with a pale fetlock. Whump! He fell on the floor with Nixkit leering above him.

“Only the Top Dredger gets to rally the ponies of Red Barge!” Nixkit seethed, rubbing his forelimb. “And don't you forget it!” He stood in place, fuming. “Yes, it's good that you caught the stupid puss-bird before he could fly away, but—dammit, Saxon—enough is enough! This isn't a case of roughing up an out-of-line pile of seafoam! You were a lucky bastard to have gotten the drop on this guy! Digiff is right. Now all his brothers and sisters are going to wonder where he is and they won't stop until they've eviscerated every friggin' goddess-forsaken meatwall in their path!”

“Heheheh... snrkkkt...” Saxon heaved, spitting blood across Skagra's carpet as he smirked. “Should... grfff... shoulda heard him... grkkk... weeping to Verlaxion.”

Keris shuddered, his eyes fluttering shut.

“That's it...” Digiff tossed his hooves. He shuffled in a tight circle, huffing. “We're done. It's over.”

“Digiff...” Nixkit grumbled.

“The Harvest is a bust!” Digiff growled. “Chandler's yanking us by a chain! The Syndicate isn't around anymore to supply us any stupid, desperate saps from Rust!” he tossed his hooves again. “Red Barge is finished! Might as well rot from the inside out and call it a day!”

Nixkit turned to retort—

A loud knocking sound echoed from the far end of the room.

Nixkit and Digiff turned to look. Saxon tilted his head up.

Keris weakly reopened his eyes.

Skagra slapped his fetlock multiple times against the hoofrest of a partially delapidated chair. He sighed, then stood up on stiff legs. “Digiff... sweet, dopey Digiff... at the risk of sounding like a broken record...”

Digiff sighed, hanging his head. “'Shut up....'”

“And slap some barnacles on it,” Skagra hissed. His good eye squinted while his bad one flared. Then—shuffling—he strolled over until he stood calmly above Keris.

The battered griffon looked up. His lion's tail flinched slightly.

“Nixxy...” Skagra spoke aside.

Nixkit trotted over. “...boss?”

“Anything on him that's broken?” Skagra asked.

Nixkit took a deep breath. “As far as I can tell... he's just... bruised to all hell,” the pale stallion muttered. “Saxon layed the shark prod on mighty thick. Nearly burned his insides to scorched grease.”

“Mmmmm... smelled pretty good too, heheheheh—” Saxon chuckled... at least until an errant buck from Skagra slammed him in the groin. Eyes crossed, Saxon slumped over, wheezing. “Grkkkt... g-good one, boss... hehehehskkkttt...

“Hrmmmfff... pretty, pretty dolphins,” Skagra cursed. He smoothed his bangs back, only for them to fall over again. “So... he'll live?”

“Painfully, but yes,” Nixkit said with a nod. “Why? Are... are you thinking of turning him in?”

“No.” Skagra shook his head. “Hell, no.” He shook his head harder. “The worst thing then a beat-up griffon is a beat-up griffon who remembers. The moment he's back with his fellow flock, all is lost.” He paced calmly above the Lieutenant. “There's no point in blaming this all on Saxon, really. I knew it'd just be a matter of time before this bird did some snooping. I mean, to be perfectly frank, I didn't think he'd be so quick or balls-heavy about it, but... shit... color me impressed.” He lurched to a stop... blinked... then gave Keris a swift kick in the side. Thwap!

“Grnnnngh!” The griffon winced heavily, his binds rattling. Keris slumped hard to his side and shuddered against the floor.

“Heh...” Skagra exhaled. “I can almost taste what makes Saxon smile.” He sighed. “Almost...”

“So... uhm...” Nixkit rubbed his scalp through his mane. “To the cesspool with him?”

Skagra's good nostril flared. “No.” He shook his scarred head. “That's even worse. For all of his pussymancering, Digiff's right to be woeful.” He turned to face Nixkit. “I've heard stories about the Right Talon of Verlaxion. They're known for two things: their awesomeness and their vengeful spirit. Considering that one of those things just imploded righteously beneath our very groin muscles, I whole-heartily expect them to come to our doorstep, overcompensating on the other half.” He slowly shook his head. “You think this place is painted red now...”

“The core of our operations has been exposed,” Nixkit said. “They'll call us criminals... lynch us in open public.” He gulped. “Seize all of Red Barge's assets.”

“Only...” Skagra raised a hoof. “...if they have a reason to.”

“But I don't understand, Skagra. They'll know that their Lieutenant's been here.”

“As far as we should care, they only know that he was headed here.” Skagra's good eye narrowed. “The sea's a large... vast place... full of much muck to get lost in. I don't care how much 'silver-plated titanium' one wears. Evidence speaks for itself.” He pointed at Keris. “The bigger they come... the harder they sink.”

“So... uhm...” Nixkit rubbed his neck, shuddering. “What exactly do you propose?”

Digiff looked on.

Skagra turned towards Keris with a calm breath. His scarred brow furrowed.


Th-Thwump!

“Ooof!” Keris grunted as his body slammed against the far wall of a dim jail cell. He struggled to get up. His front and rear legs were bound in separate cuffs. What's more, thick metal chains were wrapped five times around his wings and spine. “Grnnngh... mmmf...” He ultimately slumped to his chest, panting and wincing.

Creaaaak! The door slammed shut. Digiff and Nixkit locked it from the other side.

“You think you threw enough metal on him, Digiff?” Nixkit droned.

“Hey. I'm not taking any chances. Just because he was stupid enough to go snooping around under Saxon's watch—”

“Stop blaming everything on the grinning bastard,” Nixkit grumbled. “The bird's your responsibility now. Keep an eye on him and the prize. I've gotta go set things up.”

“Set things up?” Digiff stammered. As Nixkit trotted away, the dredger followed him, shuffling above deck and out of the brig. “Just what are we going to do now?!”

“Skagra will find a way...”

“You really think so? I mean... we're really in the shit stream now, Nix—”

“Do not doubt the top dredger. Need I remind you of the unfortunate souls who've attempted it before?”

Digiff let loose an audible sigh. “I swear, if none of this falls through, the only safe place to be in the seven seas... is Mudtop...”

The two drifted out of earshot.

Keris lingered on the cell room floor, seething... writhing. He fought against his restraints, but the struggle was torturous—not to mention tiring. Each fuss he made with the metal shackles and chains only agitated his fresh, bleeding bruises... to the point that his senses numbed over.

At last, with a defeated groan, he slumped against the floor. “Mrmmmff... goddess, give me strength.” His beak clenched. “These soul-less miscreants. I have to find a way... have to... to...”

His breaths came out in labored pants. At last, his headcrest stretched back, and he gazed woefully across the filthy shadows of the place.

“... ... ...Commander... Commander, I've failed you. I've disobeyed...” He clenched his eyes shut, surrendering to the shadows. “I'm so... so sorry...” A shuddering exhale. “All of those poor... poor ponies... I've failed them...”

His body twitched... twitched some more... then fell into a deep, exhausting descent...

...but not without hearing the faintest hint of a raspy voice from the cell across the brig.

“Hurt? Hurt in what way, Fluttershy?”

Silence.

“Hey... hey guy? Are you okay in there, dude?”

Keris' magenta eyes opened one last time. He squinted out the barred door to his cell.

For the briefest moment he thought he was staring at a mirror, for identical eyes peered back from the shadows across the way... accompanied by a ruby glint of otherworldly light.

“Just hang in there, buddy. If they brought you down here, then it only means they wanna keep you alive for some important reason. No reason to freak out... at least not yet...”

At last, Keris' eyes rolled back. He fell into unconsciousness.

“Mrmmfff... figures.” Silence. “If you insist, Flutters.” Shuffling. Sighing. “Keep an eye on him... and lemme know if he wakes up again...”


Nixkit trotted out into a dull sunset bathing the steamy lengths of Red Barge.

He calmly approached Skagra, surrounded by many dredgers.

Skagra scratched his chin, turned around twice, then stared at Nixkit, cockeyed. “Is the damn bird stapled?”

Nixkit exhaled. “Digiff bound him good.” He shook his head. “The griffon's going nowhere anytime soon.”

“Good.” Skagra squinted at the smoggy skies overhead. “... ... ...when's Monket due back?”

“Within twenty-four hours.” Nixkit squinted. “Why, boss? You gonna dump this burden on him somehow?”

“There'll be dumping involved, alright,” Skagra said with a nod. “Somewhere far west—between here and the Quade—courtesy of everypony's favorite slaver.” He yawned, picking wax out his one good ear. “But the burden? Nah... that'll fall on a certain somepony who can still hold sway over the Council.”

Nixkit's ears folded back. “Chandler.”

“A cat that fat has a lot to defecate into the ears of his peers,” Skagra slurred. “And if he has any hope of retrieving his precious Rainbow Rogue, he'll do just that... and then some.”

“You really think he'll go the distance to cover this up for us?” Nixkit asked. “Even after we drown the griffon?”

“It's all part of our new business deal.”

“When was this new deal made?”

“Tomorrow.” Skagra smiled crookedly. “When Monket gets back, he and I are going to have a little chat. With his help, we're gonna let Chandler know that the stakes have been raised even higher. The fat cat better put his balls where his bits are, cuz we're about to make that stallion sing. And if the serenade doesn't dazzle the Council and their awesome Talon about the tragic death of the Lieutenant beyond the Quade, then I'm gonna bring the full weight of the Consortium's mucking legacy down on Chandler's brittle skull.” He snorted, shuffling off to his office. “These seas are mine. And—by my scalded soul—they'll stay mine. I don't care how many monsters or griffons they toss into the brine. Now come. I want to look pretty.”

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