Previous Chapters
Close
Introduction1,198 words
Chapter 11,884 words
Chapter 22,450 words

Chapter 2

I’m woken up by sirens in my ear. I fall out of the recliner out of surprise as Hemlock’s alarm rings with the fury of a thunderstorm. Speaking of Hemlock, the douche decides to make his presence known by snickering at my misfortune. I proceed to slam the snooze button and rub my aching ears as I get up out of the chair and head to the bathroom. I stop at the mirror. My reflection stares back; years of struggling to pay the bills making themselves known in the small wrinkles lining my forehead. My silvery white mane is unkempt, and the bedhead most definitely shows.

My eyes drift down to my flanks, where my cutie mark struggles to make its appearance known through the dull black coat. The image depicts a black sun ringed with white floating in an expanse of stars, that combines with my black coat to create a decent impression of space. My eyes are the same they always are, a wave of blue cascading towards the pupil flecked with green to make it distinct. When you look closely, my pupil looks kinda like a black hole sucking in all the color from the iris around it. Hemlock’s the only one who’s ever really gotten that close to me; when he knocked me flat on my flank while rushing through the door. He said it looked, “awesome as shit, dude,” and then proceeded to run into the apartment, grab something, and run back out in what must have been ten seconds flat. Anyway, I step up to the cracked, disgusting thing that we call a sink and brush my teeth quickly. Next, I step into the cracked, disgusting thing that we call a bathtub and turn on the shower, quickly washing myself before getting out and drying with the good ‘ol shake method.

Nothing particularly interesting happens at work, and nothing particularly interesting happens for the rest of the week either. I set up shop, served the customers, begged my boss for a little extra money because the price of rent in that dinky old apartment is ridiculously high, fruitlessly checked for jobs that offered a ship. You know, the usual. It was boring, it was easy, and it had no unnecessary complications. But, as they say, nothing good ever lasts. In a stroke of irony that would have been funny if it wasn’t so sad, the one day I had to set aside to relax that week was easily the most stressful one of all. My special talent lets me know when something bad is about to happen. No, it’s not divination or fortune telling or anything like that, I just get this tingly feeling like I’m charged with electricity when something’s about to go wrong. The worse the feeling is, the more catastrophic that problem is going to be; and boy was my talent going off. I woke up to pins and needles and every hair on my body was standing up like I’d received a massive shock. I waddled into the bathroom and took a hot shower to relax my muscles, but the pins and needles were just replaced by a deep sense of foreboding and a very tingly feeling. I walked back into the main room of our little apartment and sat on the side of the bed as Hemlock snorted once loudly in his sleep and rolled over.

I briefly entertained the thought of waking up Hemlock, but I remembered the last time I tried to wake him up early for anything less than a universe-ending apocalypse. A phantom pain lanced through my face as I recalled the sting of that haymaker. I decided it probably wasn’t worth the pain and left through the front door without a second thought. My day was about to get much, much worse.

I took a cab over to the 6^th Avenue, looking for a quick cup of joe with my discount for working at Mister Espresso’s, when an explosion rocked the street. I was knocked to the ground and the wind left my lungs in a rush as a wave of hot air swept the streets. Pedestrians and cars alike scrambled to flee the vicinity as half the block was decimated by a series of explosions. I got to my feet, dazed by a possible concussion and ducked into a nearby alleyway to avoid whatever was going on out there. I heard the drone of sirens as the Poli came thundering down the block. The term was borrowed from some old Equestria-One term to describe the military bots that worked alongside pony partners to fight crime. The term originally meant government, and it was chosen because they basically acted like government’s peacekeepers more than actual police.

I saw a light from behind me in the alleyway, and caught a glimpse of a tall, black figure, wearing some type of uniform. With a flash, he was gone; probably from a long-distance teleport or a warp or something. On the ground, however, he left behind something of note. Even after getting a concussion, I’m not stupid, so I went over and picked up the little patch. It had a symbol on it the likes of which I’d never seen before. I stumbled out of the alleyway, still a little in shock at the events that had just taken place, and so I decided to dip. Before I could, though, I noticed where exactly the attack had struck. Mister Espresso’s, the job that had kept me fed, housed and safe in New Manehattan, was gone; and with it went my dreams. From what it looked, there were no options left for me. Without Mister Espresso’s, it was only a matter of time before I ran out of money and Hemlock and I couldn’t afford the dingy little apartment we called home.

My eyes stung with tears as I saw my life go up in flames and I had to force myself to leave the area. It was hard, but I managed to track down a taxi and got in, uncaring of the worried look he sent my way when he saw the state I was in. He dropped me off at the apartment and I rushed in before collapsing into the recliner; my lifeline. That chair’s been there though everything. It’s a ratty, moth-eaten old thing, but it’s mine. It was my mother’s and it’s the only thing of real value that I own aside from my TAG. Maybe it smells like shit and looks like it belongs in the dump. Maybe the reclining part doesn’t even work, and it has to be pushed into place manually. Maybe it’s worth less than a month of rent. All that stops mattering when you realize how much sentimentality the damned thing holds for me. The seat literally has an imprint of my flank, I use it so much. Once, I had to use the thing as shelter while I was living on the streets.

Either way, the second I hit the chair, I let the tears flow. All the pent-up sadness and anguish, released in a moment. I never had time to grieve before. When my dad left, I was far too young to know what was going on or to even remember it. When my mother passed, I didn’t have much of any time to grieve her passing; I was too focused on trying to survive in a world that seemed Tartarus-bent on keeping me down. Now, though, I had plenty of time to grieve and I was going to take full advantage of it. It must have been an hour or two of me sitting there, sniffling into the recliner’s disgusting, stained seat; but I eventually fell asleep. I woke up just as Hemlock got back from work, and I broke the news to him.

“You’re sure?” He asked, sitting down on the floor which was truthfully probably more comfortable than the recliner. “Everything’s gone?”

“Yeah…” I replied remorsefully, “I saw it with my own two eyes. Mister Espresso’s gone, and my life went with it.” I, of course, didn’t realize that I had one last option left. I had ignored it on the bounty board for so long, I didn’t even remember it was there.

“Go check the bounty board,” said Hemlock, “maybe a job’s opened up for you.” He sounded hopeful, but I scoffed and shot him a dirty look.

“I have checked the bounty board every day it was possible for the last 6 years, and you think that now they finally have a job that could supply me a ship? Please.” Thinking back on it, I must have looked like a gigantic idiot; ignoring the thing that was right in front of my muzzle.

“Hey, you have nothing left to lose. What harm could a little bounty board checkup do? Maybe Chancellor Luna’s looking out for you, who knows?” Hemlock shot back. The way he said it made me think he knew more than he let on, but I let it slide.

“Fine,” I grunted, letting his logic win out over my frustration, “just know that you probably won’t like what I’m going to find.” I left him with those parting words, and grabbed my TAG before heading out the door. As it was booting up I checked out the news on a TV in a nearby tech shop. Predictably, it was all over the attack from earlier; claiming it was an attack from the Celestial Coalition. President Celestia, of course, denied any allegations of such; although photographic evidence was shown of the Celestial Coalition’s symbol found near one of the blast sites. Chancellor Luna was furious: if looks could kill, Celestia would be a pile of ashes right now. It made me think, though, just what was that thing that I saw teleporting out of the area?

Either way, I soon stepped away and started off towards the docks. I could’ve sworn I saw a little storm cloud form above my head as it hung low in depression. When I got to the bounty board I told Jobs, the guy who runs the board, about what had happened, and he gave me some empty platitudes that I was too busy moping to catch. There was, however, one thing on the board. It was the job that I had never taken, to the Outer Rim. When I say the Outer Rim, I don’t mean the outer rim of known space. The Outer Rim is capitalized because it’s an actual place on the map. The Outer Rim is dangerous, immensely so. You could run into anything from a rouge pirate base to an asteroid belt. The area is mapped and charted to a degree, but nopony can really tell where the pirates choose to make their bases, nor what could be out there lurking.

I was not too happy that it was my only option, but I was grateful that I had any options at all. I asked Jobs who I should look for and he gave me a TAG number and a name: Lucky Find. I headed back to the apartment to break the news to Hemlock but I bumped into a pony trying to get to the board as I was turning around.

“Sorry,” I said dismissively, moving to go on my way, when Jobs stopped me.

“That’s him,” he said, pointing to the unicorn I had bumped into. Now, I’m not a particularly lucky person, so I was understandably shocked when I immediately bumped into the person I was about ready to find.

“Hey, uh, Lucky Find was it?” I asked the gold coated stallion who had started walking away.

“Yes?” He responded with a curious glance my way.

“You looking for a pilot to go to the Outer Rim?” I asked, a little bit nervous at the prospect. “And you’ve got a ship for that pilot, right?”

His eyes lit up and I could swear his coat brightened a little bit as he started running at me. “Yes!” He shouted as he got uncomfortably close to me and started yammering about how long he’s waited for a pilot to finally take that job.

I was not in the mood to deal with this guy’s shit after the hell I had gone through just a scant few hours earlier, so I decided to make a tactical retreat. I gave him my TAG number and retreated with a speed borne only from desperation. I made it back to the apartment without any problems, and thankfully without a chatty unicorn tailing me.

“Hey Hemlock, guess what?” I said with a little more enthusiasm than I expected.

“You found a job at the dock?” He asked with a bemused smirk on his face.

“Well there’s that, but unless you want to deal with a foreclosed apartment, we’re both going to Xenon-223.” I said, realizing a little too late that he might not understand exactly where or what Xenon-223 was.

It was silent for a few seconds. “…What.” He said it as a statement, not a question, “We’re going to Xenon-223, in the Outer Rim?”

“Yep,” I responded, with a little bit of grim finality in my voice, feeling a little bit guilty at having dragged my friend along with me on this deathtrap of a journey.

“That’s bucking awesome!” He exclaimed, pumping a hoof in the air. “Now I can quit my boring-ass job at The Mare’s Head!”

“…What.” Now it was my turn to be surprised. I knew he was adventurous, but I never thought he was suicidal. Xenon-223 is a jungle planet, which isn’t that bad on its own. The real problem comes when you realize that its atmosphere is almost entirely composed of potassium. For those of you that don’t know much about chemistry, that may not sound so bad; however, potassium reacts violently in the presence of water. Consider the fact that pony bodies are ~70% water, and you can start to understand how dangerous Xenon-223 is. If that isn’t bad enough, the flora and fauna there have adapted to this by replacing H₂0 with a highly unstable compound called mercurial thaumiate (Hg₂Thm₄). Mercurial thaumiate is created when mercury and thaumium form an ionic bond with each other, but due to the tendency for mercury to be liquid at room temperature and the magical nature of thaumium, the compound that is formed from those bonds is also liquid. Regardless, mercurial thaumiate is dangerous and highly unstable outside of a controlled atmosphere. If you ingest any of it, it’s night-night for you.

And we were going to go there.

What happened to the boring, unfulfilling 7:00 A.M. to 5:00 P.M. routine?

Author's Note:

Hey, sorry for the delay. As I said, I'm pretty busy so my time to work on this isn't exactly prevalent. Aside from that, there's not much to this chapter other than a little bit of sort of drawn-out, sort of rushed exposition and a little bit of chemistry.

There's nothing much to note with the chemistry other than Thaumium's electron count: 156. This is why it can react with mercury, and is part of what gives it its magical properties. The electrons near the nucleus are pulled with incredible force due to the density of the proton core of the nucleus, forced to travel at an impressive 89% the speed of light just so that they don't wildly scatter in all directions due to the magnetic forces at work. This speed generates energy, and most of it is expelled in the form of mana, or magical energy. Thaumium can bond to mercury because its electron count allows Mercury to fully complete its valence electron shell and become a pseudo-noble element. This forms mercurial thaumiate, which is liquid at room temperature due to the properties of the elements it was build off of. Sorry if my chemistry is a little bit off, this stuff is way outta my league, but from what I can tell it's pretty solid.

Oh yeah, the tense switch is on purpose. He's narrating this from the near future, the story will catch up to him in the next chapter most likely. I did it to give myself a little break from writing in the present tense; it's a lot harder than doing a third-person omniscient or a first-person, past tense narration.

As always, please like the story if you enjoyed and leave a comment below giving me feedback; positive or negative. Tell me what I can do better so I can improve! Also, let me know if there are any grammar or spelling errors that I missed in my self editing. Thanks for reading!

251 views

Previous Chapters