Chapter 5
“Is this design accurate?” Gear Match asked, looking at the explosive device Prince Blueblood had scrounged up. It wasn’t that he doubted the Prince’s plan and math, but looking at the whole thing, it was no bigger than an apple. The escape plan was dependent on the device taking out the small power generator their ponynappers used to power their camp constantly, located at the highest peak in the mountains. Removing that first would ensure enough distraction for them to escape.
Gear Match figured the Prince would be using something big to cause a spectacular and flaming detonation. The device didn’t look like it was going to cause something of extravagance.
“Yes it is, Gear Match,” Blueblood replied, not bothering to look up as he was putting the finishing touches in the bomb. “Why?”
“I’d have thought something that would cause a fiery explosion would be . . . bigger.”
Prince Blueblood laughed. “The device may be small, but it’s not the size of the casing we’re using. The small pre-fed Fire Gems, primed with enough essence of magic, are just there to start the reaction. Once that happens, the resulting fire will be boosted by a larger Wind Gemstone. The smaller container is going to contain that fire long enough to reach a critical point and explode outwards.”
“That may be, Prince Blueblood, but wouldn’t the explosion still be too small? Not even hot enough to melt or damage the generator,” Gear Match reasoned.
“True, but the real damage is actually caused by the metal balls mixed inside. The explosion will cause them to fly outwards, and let me assure you, that will cause a lot of damage,” the Prince smiled. “A little different from the other bomb, Gear Match,” and he pointed towards a bigger covered device near the door. “Instead of redirecting hot flame towards the door locks to melt them off, this one uses contained shrapnel to take the generator out.”
Gear Match shook his head. Prince Blueblood definitely opened a few doors in his inventiveness, all due to working on the Jericho Prototype. He had even showed the older stallion what he called ‘detonators’, which were made out of linked twin crystals. For the generator bomb, he attached one of the pairs over a plastic balloon of essence of magic. When the time came, Blueblood or Gear Match would shatter the crystal they had, and the twin would follow, taking out the balloon with it and start the reaction.
He even said he’d have more plans for the relatively cheap twin crystals to be used in other capacities. Of course, they’d have to get out first.
“Let’s go over the plan again,” Prince Blueblood advised.
Gear Match nodded. “You will use your newly acquired special permission to. . . uh, stretch your legs and then approach the generator - I’m still unclear on how you’ll achieve that.”
“I’ll just advise them that I may want to make improvements, increase output, the works,” the Prince advised, closing the device he was working on. “I will tell them we could improve its efficiency, thereby improving their general condition out here. Nopony will say no to that. And once I’m close enough to inspect, I plant the explosive.”
“You come back in,” Gear Match continued. “We wait a day, we suit you up. We engage the generator bomb, and that will cause enough distraction for our door device to work.”
“I go right ahead, create enough chaos and attract their attention, take the brunt of their attacks while you search for some Dragonfire Gems, apply the magical matrix to get the word out to Canterlot,” Prince Blueblood finished. “Home free, Gear Match.”
“Let’s hope Princess Celestia’s troops are ready,” the older stallion sighed. “We still have no clear picture how close we are to Canterlot. We don’t even know if we’re even in the same country!”
Prince Blueblood paused. “True. Do we still have those leftover rations they’ve been feeding us?”
“You still have your leftovers since you refused to eat them after tasting the first,” Gear Match replied. “You advised me the taste reminded you of sewage water and rotten flowers.”
“Yes, well, desperate times call for desperate measures. Pack them, just in case.”
Gear Match watched the Prince as he wore his newly acquired thick coat. He had convinced their captors that he was feeling increasingly cold and was having some headaches. Maelstrom provided medicine to take care of the pain and even considered giving Prince Blueblood some time off to see the doctor, but the unicorn convinced him otherwise. He said he wouldn’t go down so easily, and insisted that the work should continue.
Gear Match had to say this; the Prince knew how to manipulate ponies and knew how to act. He had acquired a coat from his captives and modified it by adding a hidden pocket just for the occassion, days before he even explained the plan to Gear Match.
Once Prince Blueblood secured the small device inside his coat pocket, he shook his head, and began to raggedly cough. He approached the metal doorway, and knocked on the surface.
The older stallion didn’t know what the Prince had said to the guard on the other side of the door, but soon, the anti-magic field powered down, and the metallic door slowly opened. The Prince looked at him for a moment before giving a nod, and then disappeared through the other side.
Once the doors slammed shut, Gear Match began to work. He grabbed a few cloths and using magic, began to create makeshift bags. He raided the Prince’s food rations and did a few calculations. The whole lot would probably keep them alive for at least a week. If he spared some for Prince Blueblood, the younger unicorn could survive ten days.
He stashed the rations near the Prince’s workstation, which had seen better days. A clutter of metallic pieces, broken crystals, wires and even glassware were scattered all around, cleverly disguising the folded interior armor on the floor and the outer shell nearby. Hidden there was also the incendiary device that would melt through the metallic door once the time had come.
Gear Match doubled checked on what was needed, and thought of bringing other items just in case. He began to think of what they would expect outside, and what items would be of use. He began to pack some extra fire gems for the journey.
He was about to pack a few more potentially useful items he heard the anti-magic field power down once more. Gear Match blinked, somewhat confused. Did Prince Blueblood just return? Gear Match was surprised by how quickly the Prince had returned. Maybe a little luck was speeding them on the way, making everything go as smoothly as possible. Wanting to greet the Prince, Gear Match trotted towards the opening gate feeling relieved that they were about to escape.
Instead of the white stallion, though, he was greeted by an intimidating figure swathed in a dark hood and cape, its cold green eyes staring back at him.
Prince Blueblood stole a last glance to to Gear Match, and looked towards the open doorway. He gave a dry cough.
“Your cough sounds better,” one of the guards commented. What was his name? Copper Arc?
“The medicine must be doing its job then,” Blueblood muttered hoarsely. “I still feel that stickiness in my throat.”
“You’ll be okay, Prince Blueblood.”
“Thank you. Maybe some fresh air will assist in my health.”
Copper Arc nodded, and whistled a signal. A few moments later, a mare guard trotted to the Prince with a mask levitating beside her. The Prince allowed his head to be covered, and be led out the cave.
In a few minutes, he could smell the fresh mountain breeze, slightly colder than before. Were they approaching the cold season already? Or did the clouds just cover up the sun more this day? The only answer he received was a slight tug on his facial mask as it was pulled away.
The increasing brightness made Blueblood squint a bit. When his eyes were able to adjust, he saw Earth Ponies trampling on a rougher part of the mountain, flattening it to make it easier other ponies to walk on. Pegasi patrolled the skies and were bucking out clouds that were covering a lot of Celestia’s light. He also saw a pony he had no interest in seeing.
“Well, if it isn’t the most unlady-like mare in the mountain,” Blueblood greeted with a slight drone in his voice. “I should have recognized your stench the moment I arrived.”
Silver Star stared at him for a moment, a strange gaze flickering in her expression that sent a few chills up Blueblood’s spine. It wasn’t the hateful and angry eyes he had been accustomed to, but something else entirely. She promptly ignored him and nodded towards the mare guard that was guiding Blueblood out of the cave.
“I shall be the Prince’s escort for now,” Silver Star declared, her voice going slightly deeper than usual.
“Ma’am, Sir Maelstrom had advised us that you are not to approach the Prince,” his mare guard advised nervously.
“Maelstrom said that he needs more manpower in the D-Area. I’m here to relieve you of your current duty,” Silver Star replied. She looked at the Prince. “I’m going to be your temporary guardian for your walk-about. And make it quick. I have better things to do.”
“Ma’am-”
Silver Star just glared at her. Her horn glowed threateningly. “You are relieved of your duty, escort. And make your way to the D-Area.”
The mare shivered, and slowly backed away. Blueblood felt himself angry at the mare guard, wondering why of all days the lunatic mare picked this one to be a thorn on his side. Her presence would make it difficult for him to plant the bomb discreetly. The situation itself was too contrived for his tastes. If he were the mare guard, he’d have questioned Silver Star immediately, to try and disprove her story.
Unfortunately, his guard mare didn’t have his level of resolve and retreated in a hurry. He was left alone with her. When she turned to face him, he wanted to wipe that stupid smile off her face.
“Well, little colt? Make haste. This escort duty is taking off my fun-time.”
Blueblood slowly scratched the rough stone ground with his hooves for a moment, then walked towards the road that led up to the mountain. He didn’t bother to look back when he replied, “Then why don’t you leave, then? I would hate to cause you to miss precious seconds of your ‘fun-time’. What do you do? Rub your horn? Trying to get a stallion, or maybe even a mare to do it for you? How long have you been single and a complete waste?”
She chuckled. That definitely froze Blueblood. A sneer, a growl, those were her usual reactions. Silver Star was an orthodox mare of Neighpon, a country which was still on the precipice of mare and stallion equality. The new Empress, Gold Dawn had been a close ally of Princess Celestia, and had been fighting tooth and horn to break the stigma and had been opening jobs and hiring stallion advisors to promote her new equality program.
Silver Star was old-fashioned, sexist, and quite easy to read. She was under the command of a stallion, which mostly likely irked her even if she knew how to hide it. She took it out on whoever she openly could; Blueblood. That’s why every time she’d sneer or whisper something nasty and Blueblood would get the better of her, she would grind her teeth and stomp her hooves.
So why was she currently chuckling? Blueblood thought to himself, stealing a glance at the mare. She stared back at him.
“Something on your mind, little colt?” she asked.
“Just wondering why you’re unattached,” Blueblood replied, looking forward once more. He shivered a bit as he began to slowly ascend. “Maybe you ought to intimidate some lower ranking stallion. Who knows? Maybe luck will go your way and he’s going to be a pity case that would be glad to be in your awful company.”
“I simply don’t understand how Equestria is still running after crowning a stallion the heir to the throne,” Silver Star said, her footsteps clopping on the hard stone mountain floor. “Or how they seem to give them jobs away from the fields.”
“Progress,” Blueblood replied. “Contrary to your very outdated beliefs, mares are not better than stallions in any shape or form. Here in Equestria, we recognize that little fact and have adapted.”
“Equestria has done nothing but fool stallions into thinking they could better their place,” Silver Star said. “They made them forget there are only two places for them.”
Blueblood gritted his teeth. He took a moment to wash the anger from his chest and turned, giving her a cold smile. “Now see, that is what happens when you let your little Neighponese quim do the thinking. I don’t know if you are familiar with the times, but it’s no longer the Fields or Shed era. We are not in a Pony Tale. That generation is gone, over, done. Grow up, and move on.”
Silver Star’s face waved with subtle emotions, rage underlying beneath her smile and searching eyes. She stared hard at Blueblood for a moment, then at the sky, their surroundings, and then shivered. “Yes, I believe this is quite far enough,” she muttered.
“Far enough for-”
He never got to finish. Silver Star’s horn glowed and something hit Blueblood so hard he flew a few meters backwards that left him in quite a daze. The next few minutes were nothing but bright light reflecting on every surface of the mountain floor, and an echoing sound of giant footsteps. Blueblood tried to stand, but two hooves locked him in place. He stared up to Silver Star’s grinning face, half wondering what she was doing.
That’s when he finally noticed a musky smell.
“You’re in heat,” Blueblood muttered, shaking the cobwebs off his head. “Not only are you useless, but you’re a utterly complete disgrace to mares everywhere!”
“Save it,” she growled. “Now, be a good little colt and take it like a stallion.”
Blueblood shivered in disgust as her tongue licked the side of his cheeks, and went towards his neck. He tried to kick her away, but she planted her body close so he would not get enough leverage to force his way out. He tried to shout out for help, but the minute he opened his mouth, she invaded it with hers.
He could hear her muffled hysterical giggle as he squirmed from her hold. He felt the bile rise from his throat as he felt her tongue wash over his mouth, and was disgusted by its presence. He waited for the right moment, before he clenched his jaw.
She shouted in pain and anger, reflexively backing away away from Blueblood. The Prince now had enough space to flex his hind legs and deliver a kick to Silver Star’s stomach. Startled, she moved further away, surprise and rage swarming in her expression.
“You little-”
Blueblood never let her finish. He turned, snapped his hind legs again and bucked her face with his strongest kick. He felt the impact of his horseshoes with her teeth, and prayed to his ancestors he at least knocked some of them out before he galloped away, screaming for help.
If there was one thing his mother taught him right was that being titled heir of the Crown made him a target, more so the fact that he was a stallion. As progressive as his speech to Silver Star was earlier, the truth was that his crowning turned more than a few heads around and made him quite a target for the more politically minded mares in power.
No pony fooled themselves that Blueblood was going to succeed Princess Celestia. She was an immortal alicorn, responsible for raising the sun, and if need be, the moon as well. Granted, a body of Grand Mages could take over Princess Celestia’s job, but the fact that their ruler was considered older than time itself, Blueblood’s future as the holder of the Crown title was worthless as far as anypony knew.
However, his mother told him that being attached to the heir of the crown had clout, and that any ambitious mare would be more than willing to get their hooves dirty to get to him. She had advised him to never sign anything without consulting her or their lawyers and to never get in bed with a mare in heat, as having foals was one way to attach him.
She told him if anypony tried to force him to sign anything or bed him without consent, it was fine to play the helpless stallion, to run and scream for help. She said to attract attention, embarrass his pursuers, flank them once he was prepared to face them and catch them unawares.
Blueblood took those lessons to heart, even when his mother was trying to attach him to older mares to build her own clout, leaving him half-wondering if his mother was regretting teaching him those lessons in the first place as he efficiently began using her own teachings against her.
However, today he was not at Canterlot. He did not have guards coming to his aid as quickly as possible. He was estranged in a mountain, hoping that Silver Star was acting on her own accord, hoping to delay her enough to get some help.
“COME BACK HERE!”
There was a slight feel of satisfaction of listening to her lisp, but he dared not look back. He just kept climbing upwards moving in zig-zag movements just in case she started blasting him with magic or her pointed stars. He continued screaming for help, scrambling as fast as his legs could carry him until he reached the top of the elevation.
He went past the wind generator, a a cylindrical box of shining metal propped on top of a few rocks. That allowed to give it some space, no bigger than three hooves, between the mountain floor and its metallic base. The space was made for the mesh of wires underneath the generator that would connect to the base. On the top of the generator was a spinning blade that caught the moving air.
Blueblood looked towards the other side. There was nothing but a sharp incline downwards towards a chasm. He took deep breaths, his mind half-wondering if he’d risk shouting or to just jump down, hope for the best.
A hard clop met his ears, and he automatically hid himself behind the wind generator. His ears perked up to pick up any sound as he shifted his hooves. The wind generator’s fan continued to turn undisturbed, whirling as the wind whooshed between its blades. He saw his breath frosting as he tried to keep his breathing steady.
He looked up the sky. The patrolling pegasi were still busy over that thick cloud a ways away. He had no idea if his screams reached the Earth ponies below.
He was alone.
“Where are you, little colt?” she asked, sounding somewhat out of breath. Her canter started from Blueblood’s right, as loud as possible. She was trying to scare him, hoping to scour him out. She knew the area better than he did, knew where the only escape route is. “That little buck hurt somewhat, but I’m willing to let it slide if you just come out.”
Blueblood prayed his hooves were silent as he tried to move his jacket, feeling for his pockets. His hooves touched his device.
“Come on, little colt. It won’t hurt. . . much. I just want to borrow you for a few minutes. . . or hours. I doubt that though, as you Equestrian stallions are pitifully weak, and you are not much for breeding.”
He ignored her jab, and focused on the feel of the explosive. He ignored the metallic taste emanating from his mouth, and slowly crouched, explosive on hoof. He slowly, quietly placed it underneath the generator.
“That’s because stallions here are so delusional. You think too big but you don’t act it. Neighpon stallions know that they are not meant to think, but to work hard. Because at the end of the day, we expect you back on the sheds in case we come to call.”
Blueblood shivered when his front hoof accidentally scratched part of the wind generator as he tried to stand. The metal horseshoe and metallic container created a high pitched screeching noise for almost a second before he immediately rectified that. Still, he paused, wondering if Silver Star had noticed, strained his ears hoping to hear any indication of discovery.
For a moment, there was no sound.
That should have been a hint. Blueblood felt something hard slam his side, the sky suddenly turning up as an aura of magic surrounded him. He then felt the air escape his lungs as he met the unforgiving stone floor repeatedly. For a few seconds, his vision consisted of clouds, rock, the sun and hooves. Every time he tried to take a deep breath, he’d be lifted and slammed down again until he gave up, and was finally pinned on his back by a hard hoof.
“Stay down, and feel privileged for what is about to happen,” Silver Star muttered. The pressure of her hoof intensified, leaving Blueblood looking through a tunnel that displayed her face, covered in sweat and her smile wide. “And then you will know your place.”
Blueblood couldn’t reply, except raise his front two hooves and with a last insult, clap them together. Silver Star growled and her face flushed red. She raised her other hoof, most likely to knock him out when it was her turn to be slammed on the side by a white and brown blur.
With the weight lifted off of his neck, Blueblood began to finally draw a deep, wonderfully refreshing breath. He coughed as he turned, hearing the scuffle close to him, instinctually moving farther to a safer distance. When he stole a glance, he was met with a vision of a gryphon beginning to knock the stuffing out of Silver Star, using her wings to disorient the unicorn to prevent her from using her magic, staying in melee distance to her advantage. Her beak pecked in an abnormal rhythm that prevented the unicorn from fighting back, and once the mare was backed into position, the gryphon grabbed her neck and pinned her down.
“Boss-pony said no touching!” Gwendolyn, Blueblood’s rescuer, declared in a hard tone.
“Get off me!” Silver Star replied, her hooves trying to kick the gryphon out but without success.
Blueblood heard more steps, and felt a hoof assisting him up. He looked up, and saw it was the mare guard that was his initial guard, and felt the panic run through his veins. He began pushing her hooves out of the way and scrambled from the ground.
“Get away from me!” he shouted as he failed to stand up steadily. More hooves began to touch him, and he violently tried to pry them away, but there were too many. He was forced on the ground again as more ponies, mares and stallions alike were splitting up in two groups; one to assist the gryphon in holding down the insane neighponese mare, and the other to hold him down.
“Prince Blueblood, calm down!” Maelstrom’s face became visible.
“He’s in a panic,” he heard a stallion declare. “We may have to medicate him.”
“Horseapples!” Maelstrom shouted. He disappeared from view, but Blueblood heard him screaming at someone, and Silver Star apparently screaming back.
“Hold him!”
Blueblood felt a needle prick his flank. He panicked, and his scrambling renewed as more hooves were pinning him down. Then finally, everything stilled. The shouts became indistinct, and the sky began to slowly fade into a less bright shade of blue, turning lighter and lighter until it was completely white.
“He’ll be fine.”
Blueblood blinked. White encompassed his vision, though now he could see a shadow of a stallion, shining a light gem on his eyes. The stallion was probably the doctor, checking his pupil movement. A moment later, the doctor deactivated the light gem, and the Prince’s vision swirled with ghosting images.
“He may still have some issues regarding any mares so I suggest you shift the guards, make sure stallions or gryphons will be his main contacts,” the doctor continued.
Blueblood’s wits finally returned to him, and he found himself seated in a weapons shed at the base. He stared to his upper left, and saw the wind generator spinning. He blinked once more, his mind trying to reconnect his trip back down. All he remembered was more shouting and a lot of jiggled movements.
Maelstrom came into view, his eyes directly at the doctor. “I’ll keep that in mind, doc.” He then looked at Blueblood. “Prince Blueblood. Are you still with us?”
Blueblood blinked, and then remembered why he was outside. He sprang up and toppled a few metallic tables, spilling the doctor’s tools on the carpeted floor.
“Hey now, calm down,” the doctor advised. “It’s safe now.”
“What in Tartarus was that!?” Blueblood shouted hoarsely.
“Hold on, Prince Blueblood. Calm down,” Maelstrom replied.
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” declared Blueblood, his voice breaking. “What was that, Maelstrom? Huh?! Was that your way of telling me not to overstep my bounds!? A little insurance!?”
Maelstrom winced. “Prince Blueblood, what happened was done by Silver Star alone. She pulled rank, tried to get you alone. That mare that escorted you out of the cave contacted me immediately when Silver Star dismissed her, and I had the pegasi and gryphons look for her.”
Blueblood looked around and noticed a few guards surrounding them, mostly stallions. He toppled another table.
“Silver Star will be staying in a closed bunk until her heat passes, and I will guarantee that you will never see her again,” Maelstrom added. For a moment, he looked torn, and then whispered, “I’m sorry about that, Prince Blueblood. If you need some time to rest, get yourself together so you can continue your work, I’d understand.”
Blueblood shuffled from his place, still feeling sick at the bottom of his stomach. He looked around and saw stallion guards seemingly ready for him to do something, the doctor preparing another syringe just in case. He shook his head, his left front hoof shivering nonstop. He gave a nod.
“Just put me back in,” he muttered. “I had as much of the outside as I can take.”
Maelstrom nodded, and signaled a few guards to help Blueblood up. The Prince took his time before he finally stood up and let himself be escorted back to the cave.
The trip back was mentally grueling as his mind began to recall Silver Star’s actions. She had almost forced her way with him, pinning him down, licking him. He shuddered as his mind raced on how much further she would have gone had the gryphon not rescued him. She could have forced her magic in him, and with no horn to fight it off, she could have very well controlled him do unspeakable and horrible things.
Blueblood looked down, feeling his cheeks aflame in shame. He then gritted his teeth. The sick feeling emanating from his stomach faded and turned to red hot rage.
Silver Star was not an old fashioned mare. She was a monster.
And given the opportunity, he would end her.
The sound of the gate opening derailed his train of thoughts. Blueblood looked up and saw his escort waiting for him to move forward. He gave them a nod, and some returned it. They waited patiently as Blueblood took a few tentative steps and moved inside the cavern. He spotted Gear Match lounging near the fire as the metallic door slowly shut behind him.
Gear Match woke up, startled when he heard the metallic door closed down. His first reaction was to scream, but it was muffled completely. He worked his jaw, feeling an obstruction between his teeth. He worked his legs next and felt them tied tightly in an uncomfortable manner. Darkness surrounded him, like a black thick veil, and the only source of light was a pinhole that looked like a lone star in the blackest night.
He heard somepony walking, their hard clopping steps reverberating around the cavernous wall. He could hear fire crackling steadily. What was going on out there?
“Gear Match, I just realized that Maelstrom and his guards are not monsters. But not the same can be said of the insane Neighponese Mare he is now keeping on a tight leash.”
That voice. . . Prince Blueblood! Gear Match struggled with his bonds, trying to scream through whatever was muffling him, but to no avail.
“Why’s that, sir Blueblood?” Gear Match heard his own voice asking back.
“I’d rather not talk about it now,” Blueblood replied. “Let’s just say she has finally shown her true colors. One good thing that came out of this is she’s locked up and won’t be bothering anyone anytime soon.”
Gear Match heard his grunt. Whoever was mimicking him, he almost had it down pat!
“Sir, how’s the progress with the weapon?” the fake Gear Match asked.
Gear Match felt ashamed that he was hearing his voice call the Prince so informally.
There was a pause. Did Prince Blueblood notice something strange?
“The usual,” the Prince replied.
“Sir, I heard the guards talking when you were out. Apparently, they are trying to move up their schedule and relocate. It might be imperative that we get to working on how to recreate the Jericho immediately.”
He heard Prince Blueblood sigh, and a grunt of movement. “Technological advancement isn’t something that can happen immediately. Don’t worry too much about it, Gear Match. If they need to change their location, they’ll just bring us along.” There was sound of stomping hooves. “But you know what, Gear Match, you could be right. I’ll get started working on the Jericho.”
“That’s good to hear sir.”
Prince Blueblood, do not fall for that false pony’s tricks! Gear Match wanted to scream. He just struggled through his bonds once more.
“Are you okay sir?” the fake Gear Match asked after another moment silence.
“A little tired and out of it,” Prince Blueblood replied. “I may have to sleep this off. Today has not been day.”
“Sir, you can rest here by the fire. I’m still arranging our bunks, and I’m afraid I may have made quite a mess.”
“If you insist, Gear Match. Let me just grab something from my work table.”
Gear Match could hear Prince Blueblood’s steady steps drifting closely, and then a slight pause. He began to think, mentally advising the Prince not to approach the mimic and praying to Celestia with all his might that his thoughts would miraculously be transmitted to his Royal companion.
Gear Match heard a grunt, and a canter. He closed his eyes, still praying, still thinking.
There was a sick sound of impact and a thud of a body, falling down on the hard ground. Silence. . . for only a few seconds. His heart skipped a beat when he heard hoofsteps coming towards his direction.
The next few seconds went forward torturously slow. As the sound of the approaching canter got louder, he began to struggle anew. He dared not want to see what had happened, so sure that the fake Gear Match had done something villainous to his friend. He did not want to be found there, tied and helpless.
As the echoing hoofsteps got closer, Gear Match tried to scream again.
Then, with a click, everything became brighter. Gear Match’s eyes tried to adjust to the sudden brightness but all he could make out was a silhouette. He screamed and renewed his struggles against his bonds.
“Gear Match!” the shadowed figure exclaimed.
Gear Match paused as he recognized the voice. Slowly, he could make out the Prince’s features, and breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Goodness, are you alright?” and in a practiced motion, Prince Blueblood’s mouth bit on the leather strap and yanked off the muffler that was preventing Gear Match from speaking.
“Oh thank Celestia,” Gear Match muttered hoarsely. “You knew?”
Prince Blueblood gave him a wry grin and worked on chewing the bonds free. “You must be joking, Gear Match. Of course I did.”
“What gave him away?” Gear Match asked, feeling the bonds on his hind legs slacken. “He sounded like me, spoke somewhat like me. Was it him calling you ‘sir’, Prince Blueblood?”
“There was that and. . .” Prince Blueblood grunted as he gave a final tug that loosened Gear Match’s bonds on his front legs. “What gave it away was the fact that the guards didn’t bring up the anti-magic field after I entered. He then brought up our progress on the Jericho. I’d have to be really out of it if I missed all those details and not concluded subterfuge. I was more afraid he had killed you, Gear Match.”
“Did he look like me at all?”
Prince Blueblood nodded. “Scarily so. . . until I hit the hammer at the back of his head. Now he looks like. . . well, see for yourself,” and he motioned towards his left.
Gear Match looked, and saw a black. . . pony-like creature splayed on the floor completely knocked out. It was Alternate, the black pony that kept a cloak around him, and now he understood why. The creature had a twisted horn, insect-like wings, sharp front fangs and his legs had actual holes in them.
“What in Equestria is that!?” Gear Match whispered.
“Right now, an annoying bump in our perfect plan,” Prince Blueblood replied. “If he’s here, that means that they are investigating our progress, and if their pon. . . uh, creature does not report back, they’re going to get suspicious.” He paused, his jaw locking into a grimace. “Gear Match, I hate to ask more from you, but we may have to make our move right now.”
Gear Match took a breath and closed his eyes. He nodded. “Time to go home then.”
Prince Blueblood smiled. “Lovely. Let’s move.”
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I suspected something like this would happen.
By which I mean Silver Star's rape attempt. (Feels a little weird to write that, seeing as how she shares a name with a canon pony. On the other hand, that's going to make for an interesting moment should Blueblood ever come to Appleoosa and be told "Silver Star's already waitin' for ya!". /shudder)
As strange as it may sound, I wonder what went through her mind. As far as we can tell, she'd planned to isolate him for this purpose from the beginning, when she told the guard mare to stand down. And when Blueblood began their usual potshots and banter... that must've felt like the height of delicious irony to her.
The changeling caught me by complete surprise. All thing considered though, this might explain Blueblood's absence at the Royal Wedding - he was occupied (i.e. kidnapped). Not only do they need to make haste now since the prince didn't fall for the trap laid out, he also couldn't plant the bomb.
Time has run out.
1923778
He actually did. I was aiming for a subtle plant, but reading now, it seems to vague. I'll get to correcting that. And, dude... first post. You get a Mac. xD
1924240
Yay, a Mac!
The other pony is Appleloosa's sheriff, Silverstar. He's written in one word though, so maybe it doesn't count anyway...
Things are straying a bit off Tony Stark's beaten path, here. Changeling, too - it comes less as a surprise given the initial description earlier, but still as unexpected within the timeframe and setting of the story. Part of a larger scene perhaps. The chapter is months old, though? Another surprise, though I'm heartened to see the update there, regardless of when and how.
1927984
Yeah, I want to at least keep this one alive. It is my first story in FiMFic, and I pretty much laid a plan out for it.
Hopefully I'll still be able build the verse around it.
Just had a thought.
Given the premise of what constitutes a 'progressive' Equestrian society presented in this story... that would make Sweet Apple Acres old-fashioned at best, right? Perhaps even chauvinistic? At least from an outsider perspective.
After all, Applejack is the younger sibling, yet it's always 'her' farm. The one she even abandoned once; though that was in a fit of youthful fancy, and might've been only temporary from the get-go. Still, who stayed behind to watch over the farm? Her brother. Her older brother.
The one who's out on the fields all day. Pulling the plow.
It's not that difficult to imagine some young social historian coming to Sweet Apple Acres, demanding (or trying to find out surrepticiously), whether they plan on putting Big Macintosh in the Shed once they've found a nice girl for him...
1940604
I'd say old fashioned, though I have planned Blueblood and AJ meeting... and this topic gets broached. xD