Viral

by AnchorsAway

Chapter 9: Witness

Archived Broadcast Fragment Recovered From Equestrian News Network

Presented at the ‘Third Global Conference on the Equestria Quarantine Period.’

— New Canterlot, Equestria Republic, April 12-16, 1021 A.V.

---

Death Toll Rises to Thirty-Four in Ponyville

Equestria Mourns Those Lost in Worst Industrial Accident To Date

Equestrians across the nation came together today to participate in a moment of silence for the citizens of Ponyville, marking three days since the terrible tragedy. Members of the Ministry of Airship Authority, as well as key figures of the Royal Government, appeared with Princess Luna to deliver the address, the mood somber as the Princess met the press for the first time.
“What has occurred this week is nothing short of tragedy,” she spoke. “After reviewing tracking stations at the edge of the Everfree as well as internal information from the Ministry of Airship Authority, I can confirm at this time what occurred over the skies of Ponyville was not the result of foul play,” she told reporters, quelling fears of terrorism or aggression by a foreign state.
“At approximately eight-o’clock that morning, the Airship Authority confirms that the Equestrian tanker airship ‘Iron Shod’ was en route to Somambula with a full cargo of liquified arcana. Although the Royal Government maintains that Equestrian airships follow stringent regulation and safe practices, the initial evidence points to an accident occurring aboard, resulting in a fire within her cargo hold. While a distress call was picked up, no response was ever answered by the captain. Less than a minute after the initial call, we believe the fire was uncontainable, igniting her tank reservoirs and exploding with the force to produce a devastating shockwave and magical bombardment.”
The Ministry of Airship Authority would later go on record to confirm the search for the ‘Iron Shod’s’ black box was underway, and they assured the public, as well as the rest of the Royal Government, that proactive measures were already being discussed to ensure such an accident could never occur again.
When asked about the safety and security of Equestrian airships, such as the ‘Iron Shod,’ Princess Luna declined to comment, stating that all inquiries fell under the Ministry of Airship Authority. As for Princess Celestia, this publication has not received an official statement from her at this time.
This publication will continue to update this evolving story as new details develop, and as this nation continues to recover from such devastation.

---

“An airship? Really?”

Professor Lakeshore folded the newsprint, the unicorn eyeing Luna with a mix of disgust and confusion. “That was quite an act you put on for the press ponies — do you think everypony will buy it?”

“T’was the best I could come up a full such short time,” the Princess reiterated, adjusting herself in her window seat. The buzz of the airships blades was a hum, reverberating from outside the aircraft. The soft vibrations soothed her tired nerves.

The quick and agile airship cut through the skies, Luna glancing out a porthole, watching their shadow glide gently over the dense woodland below. Her sleek white hull was in pristine condition, the gas envelopes holding her aloft tucked within the magically hardened fabric.

“Everything be covered,” Luna insisted about the lie, the terrible lie. “I delivered the constructed tracking information to the Airship Authority Chairpony myself. The ‘Iron Shod’ was already en route to being decommissioned. In a few more hours, she’ll be nothing more than scrap.”

“Still,” Lakeshore claimed, cleaning his spectacles. “It doesn’t seem right, lying to everypony. What if somepony discovered the coverup?" But the professor would not get his answer.

Two Wonderbolts in JUMPsuits blew past the royal airship, rattling the portholes and causing Professor Lakeshore to wince. The sonic boom that collapsed behind the supersonic pegasi was the third one in the past hour, and the unicorn cupped his ears.

“Is it really necessary for them to do that?” he wondered, rubbing his ears vigorously. “I’m sure anypony on the ground with burst eardrums or shattered windows wouldn’t think so.”

“They be standard precaution.” Luna sipped her coffee without looking up from the briefing in her hooves. She had grown accustomed to the everpresent pegasi that follower her and her sister's movements. “Phoenix Onedoth not travel without security.”

Lakeshore cocked a busy eyebrow. “Phoenix One? I’m guessing Celestia got to pick the name.”

Luna cracked a grin, her first hint of emotion since the two of them departed Canterlot, leaving Celestia to her bedchamber while they followed up on the Professor's lead. “She may have gotten to name it, but I got to furnish the interior.” She looked around, admiring the decor. “Do you like it. I wanted something more – modern.” The words came out hesitantly, unfamiliar upon her tongue.

The inside of the cabin, tucked beneath the belly of the airship, was just as refined as the outside: streamlined. Past the flight deck and the communication and data center was the conference lounge. Chairs, graciously overstuffed, lined the bulkhead beside arrays of recessed, terminals, phones, and carved mahogany end tables: further aft, the royal bedrooms, decorated with lavish furnishings and beds, fit for princesses. With the additional sleeping quarters near the stern for crew and members of the royal government, the entirety of Equestria could be ruled from the safety of the skies.

Lakeshore ran his hoof over the slick vinyl of the chair. “It’s all wonderful,” he commented. “You have an eye for it.”

“More like hours of research,” she scoffed. “A lot of styles come and go in a thousand years, and I am still catching up.”

“Your sister did confine with me in my early days at her school how great it was to have you home,” he smiled. “I may have later gone my separate way, but it's good to get to know the sibling she always talked about. Even if it is during less than optimal times such as these.”

Luna set the cup of coffee beside her, resting the file in her lap. “You knew my sister very well before my return, yes?" she wondered. Her sister had never mentioned the learned Professor before. "Can I ask you,” her eyes probed the lush carpet, “what was she like back then?”

“Celestia?” Lakeshore seemed to ponder the question a moment, a hoof absently scratching at his trimmed beard. “She was quieter,” he finally sighed. “Much quieter than she even is now. Perhaps more reserved, too.”

Luna made a sour face, mockingly sticking out her tongue and pretending to gag. “Reserved, she never was. Stars, I doth know personally. She used to practically smothers me in the morning, shoving hot flapjacks in mine face when I just wanted some coffee.”

“But she did come to confide in me after a while. Would even call me her friend, though I never told anypony.” Lakeshore nodded, the skin under his neck just beginning to sag with age bobbing up and down. “She talked about you a lot, you know. She missed you, dearly.”

The mocking gesture evaporated from the princess’s face. They had never talked about the before, the time during which she was banished. Hearing the Professor mention it made her feel good, even if the guilt of her actions, what she had done, came with it. There was no way to regain the lost time, she knew, to turn back the clock. But to know that the one she most cared about, the one she had hurt most, had been thinking of her was enough.

Another sudden boom from the flying escorts shook Luna, startling the blue alicorn. The pages from the briefing report littered the floor in a shower of paper as she left from her seat, tripping over her hooves and landing with a heavy thump. Not very regal of herself, she would later admit.

“Bloody fires of Tartarus!” Her chest was heaving, Lakeshore helping her up from her tumble. “Maybe thou was right about the pegasi being a little loud.”

---

Like a great white cloud descending from the sky, the airship touched down to Earth, lush meadow grass billowing waves beneath the wash of the blades. The two Wonderbolts were close behind, carving a circling patrol, disappearing behind the thick treeline of the forest encircling the clearing. Professor Lakeshore descended the aluminum boarding ramp, head bent low. The blast from the propellers whipped his mane, the unicorn covering his glasses from the dust peppering his face. It was an absolute torrent.

Princess Luna was close behind him, staring toward the far treeline, past a derelict shed to a small wooden cabin tucked between two high towing spruces. It was heavily weathered but well maintained, the sun-bleached boards of the home clean and trimmed, not a gap or crack to be found.

Lakeshore could tell, even from a distance, the curtains were drawn tight over the windows.

“No way he could not have heard us coming!” Lakeshore yelled over the whine of the airship's engines, the blades slowly winding down. “Best let me try to talk to him first! He’s not too fond of visitors from what I remember!”

“I know,” Luna told him, the words hardly audible above the engines.

Lakeshore left her at the ramp, the old but spry stallion trotting up the dirt path toward the cabin. All around him hoof-tended flowers sprung from the fertile ground, blossoming in a wave of color and perfume. Petunias, tulips, sunflowers and orchids – they blanketed the verdant grounds around the cabin – rows, flower beds, hanging planters, clusters of pots. The owner kept himself busy.

With a light rap on the door, Lakeshore waited patiently on the shaded porch, the swept floorboards creaking under his hooves.

"Here goes nothing," he breathed through clenched teeth.

With a squeak, the door cracked open barely an inch, revealing an orange eye with a slit pupil peering from inside. “Yes?” a deep voice like low rumbling thunder asked.

“Romulus?” the Professor said, poking his head further out. “It’s Lakeshore. From the Royal Canterlot University.”

“I know. I remember” the voice retorted without emotion. “What do you want? I already told you I don’t remember what happened to your colleague.”

Quite the same brooding bat pony he remembered.

“It’s about the expedition–”

The voice did not wait for Lakeshores reply, already closing the door on his unexpected and unwelcome guest. But the Professor was quick, sliding the edge of his hoof between the wooden door frame, holding it open.

“Wait! Wait,” he pleaded with exasperation. “I know. But I’m not here about Dr. Harvest Night. Something else has happened. We need your help.”

A pause, then the pressure from the door eased off the Professors hoof. It opened revealing the slate-colored bat pony, a sweeping blue mane rolling off his broad neck. He stood almost two hooves taller than the unicorn, nearly as tall as Princess Celestia. The eyes orange eyes that Lakeshore could swear glowed in the dim light studied him. Romulus bit his lip with a sharp canine.

“My help?” he asked with a deep grumble. “What do you need my help for?”

“Something has come up. Something potentially tied to the basin expedition,” Lakeshore reiterated. “Did you hear about Ponyville?” he wondered.

“About as much as everypony else,” Romulus told him. “It’s all over the news,” he added. “Bound to happen eventually, I always guessed.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You know something I don’t?”

“Hard to tell actually,” he ventured cautiously. “Let's just say the truth is much worse."

"Really? How much worse could it be?" Romulus scoffed.

"A Wonderbolt was exposed to something over Ponyville. Possibly something infectious.”

“I’m guessing there was no airship,” the big bat pony sighed. “You can’t not know. I’ve already been through the hush-hush situations. There was no airship, right?”

Lakeshore was taken aback at the quick notion. Had Romulus heard something he didn't know, something that would give away the coverup?

"Don't look so surprised," the pony said, blinking in the bright sun that bathed the porch. "Remember I've dealt with the government types before. The story is never truly the story."

“That’s why we're here,” Lakeshore explained. “It’s still hard to tell, but a colleague may have accidentally discovered a connection between the DC and whatever happened down in Caballo. Something they are hiding.”

“The Defense Coalition?" Now there was a name that got the bat's attention. "You mean the Caballo expedition?” Romulus shifted from hoof to hoof.

Lakeshore could see the stallion was uncomfortably hot despite the cool autumn breeze wafting through the open door carrying the smell of flowers and their sweet perfume. But he couldn't see the images haunting the bat pony. His head was swimming with flashes of scenes of dense jungle and sweltering humidity. And dark figures, figures as big as dogs with leathery wings strikingly similar to his own.

---

Bats. Bats by the hundreds, thousands, descending from the treetops over him. Bats that filled the air.

They were everywhere: a swarming leathery mass that engulfed the camp and plunged the jungle basin into blood. And weapon fire too, the metallic twangs of auto-crosses and the whiz of MAG rifles rung out. The smell of the MAGs hot arcane blasts melting and burning through flesh filled his nostrils. He was caught in the middle. His head swung wildly about, the screams of the other mercenaries and ponies ringing in his ears, but Romulus was trapped in the swirl of bats.

Then, a mare. He was dragging a mare away from her tent. Romulus always remember her most of all.

The mare was bucking and screaming, reaching her hooves out, grasping fiercely for an orange mare being carried up by the bats. Romulus would only catch one glimpse of her face through the mass of creatures each time the scene played over and over in his head — a face of terror. The face of a pony being eaten alive, bite by little bite.

The bats made short work of the other mare, then they would be on him. It would be over in an instant, a single moment of agony, being lifted into the air, then nothing.

“Romulus,” a soft feminine voice reached out to him through the visions. Reality seeped back into focus, the jungle melting away. The cried of the mercenaries and wails of the mare faded until they were nothing more than a faint whisper in the back of his head where they stayed. The wave of bats parted, a tide of black split to reveal a blue alicorn standing before him just behind Lakeshore.

Romulus quickly blinked the horrors away, returned to the world once more until the next time. How long had she been there; was he out long? “Hello, Romulus,” she said gently, watching him for a reaction.

His face was flushed, and he could feel his cheeks burning intensely. “It's been a long time, your Highness,” he said, turning his eyes away from Luna. Not here; not like this.

“It has. I wondered where you were hiding out after you left the Watch,” Luna remarked sentimentally. “I never thought it would be here.”

“I like the woods,” Romulus nodded to the dense and towering pines. “Privacy is a luxury these days.”

“Look,” the Professor said, wiping his forehead with a hoofkerchief. “I know it may sound crass, but time is of the essence here.”

“Then what exactly more do you want from me?” Romulus smoldered, his attitude souring from the Professor’s quips. He didn't know when to quit, did he? Even after he divulged everything he knew of the fateful expedition, of Harvest Night.

The aging Professor pulled him, conversing on the other end of the porch just within Luna’s earshot. “What was it you remember before the final leg of the expedition? Before you made it to the ruins.”

Romulus took a deep breath, looking out across the meadow as he let out a tired and exhausted sigh. “It was just like I told you before,” he groaned. He had been over it almost a dozen times with the pony, before he had shunned him altogether. “I don’t remember what happened. One minute we were hightailing it three or four clicks away from the evac point and next thing I remember was snapping to on the airship. We were already halfway back to the Defense Coalition headquarters at the Crystal Empire.”

“And the other mercenaries?”

The bat pony looked down on the quiet stallion beside him.

The Professor could read the answer plain on his face.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think Princess Luna can help.”

“I don’t need her help,” Romulus winced. “My days of the Watch are over. I don’t serve the Royalty anymore.”

“Look, we need to know what the DC is up to. They are connected to all of this somehow, Ponyville included. We’re not going to get anything out of them easily.”

“What did you expect? They have virtually little to no oversight from the royal government and an undisclosed budget," he recounted. He had seen first hoof the lengths they would go to to keep a secret, whatever that secret might be. The only reason they had left him alone this long was that he kept his head down. The last thing he wanted to do was go charging right back in.

“That's why we need you, Romulus. The Princess, Luna, she thinks she can help you uncover those memories. Find out what they were up to in Caballo.” Lakeshore glanced back to the alicorn waiting patiently on the other end of the porch. “She good with things like that. Dreams and memories and their connections and such.”

Romulus drew his attention away from the Professor to his flower beds. They were overflowing under the radiant sun rays, not a weed or thistle insight. The budding stalks and stems danced in the breeze, patiently waiting for the brewing storm front way on the distant horizon to bring quenching rain their way.

“I don’t like this. Don’t like this at all,” Romulus shook his head, avoiding Lakeshore’s expectant gaze.

Lakeshore had been waiting for this, he realized, the same answer he had given many times before.

The graying unicorn deflated where he stood. He let out a long sigh, absently brushing the dust from his hooves.

“I can understand. Can’t say it was worth a–”

Romulus held up a silencing hoof, stopping the Professor short. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you,” he clarified, already regretting the decision he was making. “I’ll let the Princess try to dig whatever she can out my head. I just said I was not keen on her poking around my dreams.”

Lakeshore’s grin rebounded faster than Romulus would have hoped. He was regretting his decision already.

Romulus looked to Luna, back turned to the two stallions, but peering out the corner of her eye conspicuously toward them.

Lakeshore then turned his attention to the airship, waiting patiently nearby, its protectors flying circles overhead high above the clouds.

The Professor nodded toward the waiting airship. “When was the last time you visited Canterlot?”

---

They came for him in the morning, just like Clipper had warned him. A stallion and a mare, two ponies dressed in business attire, simple button-downs and cheap blazers, like the kind that you would get at Barnyard Bargains. They even looked as dull and as drab as the clothes they had purchased that morning before meeting with him. The mare had forgotten to remove the price tag on the tie she sported around her neck, an awful fabric with a headache-inducing splash of orange.

The Equestrian Defence Coalition investigators strolled into the recovery ward, their saddlebags containing only a few pens and a notepad which they would occasionally jot in.

Even from the beginning, everything had seemed wrong about them to Whiplash. Something was just off, from the newly bought clothes, to the sparse travel arrangement, even to their names. Tundra Cotton and Willow. Like something, they had come up with in the hospital parking lot.

Everything started with the simple pleasantries, the false introductions, the forced commendation for his actions and duty, and the fanciful assurance that the DC was doing everything they could to find out who or what was responsible for what had happened to his team. They even noticed the filly, Rose Point, still in the next bed over while they made room in a separate ward just for the children.

“Hello there,” the stallion, a hulking grey coated unicorn with a crooked snout wheezed. “We heard that this Wonderbolt here pulled you out of a collapsing building in Ponyville. Must have been pretty frightening,” he said in a rehearsed tone.

The little filly was trying to bury her head beneath the sheets, not even wanting to acknowledge either of the DC investigators. But they were persistent.

“Can you tell us how it happened sweetheart,” the one named Willow wondered, a skinny mare with a taut, bony face. “Do you remember anything from Ponyville. Maybe anything that looked strange to you.”

“I don’t see why this is necessary,” Whiplash tried to interject, wiping his brow, trying to hide the fact that he had begun to sweat. “She’s just a kid who lost her mom. I don’t think this is the right time."

It had already been circulating the news, the story of the exploding airship. A coverup, Whiplash knew from the start. There had been no airship.

But whenever the truth may be, he wanted no part of it. He only risked getting further embroiled in whatever conspiracies abounded. The same went for the filly as well; she didn't need to go through his dilemma.

The DC Ponies quickly shushed him, focusing their entire attention on the filly, looking for something, anything that they could get out of her. Had she seen anything, heard anything, did she remember escaping the motel (oh yes they knew about that), was Mister Whiplash acting weird, were any other pegasi with them at the motel. But she would budge. Not an inch. Her mouth was sealed tighter than a tomb.

When they couldn’t get anything out of Rose, they turned their full attention to him, not that he couldn’t take it. The inquisition was approaching its third hour before they finally “bought” his testimony. Two ghosts appearing on their radars that quickly disappeared. Engine failure from heavy particulates in the air caused him to get separated from the team and crash. He had heard the filly cry for help and pulled her from the motel before it collapsed. Nothing more.

That wasn’t to say that they knew what had probably happened. That he had encountered something he shouldn’t have. They didn’t have any evidence, any flight data or radio calls. Not yet, anyway. This bought him some time to figure his next move. Not that he was sure what he was moving towards.

“That should be all, for now, Major,” they finally relented, quickly packing their things. “But we’ll be in contact soon,” Tundra Cotton reminded him. “We still have a few questions for Rose,” he wheezed through his crooked snout.

When they were finally gone, Rose looked over to Whiplash, the pegasus finally releasing the breath he had been holding as the two investigators sauntered out the door.

“Why did you do that?” she asked him plainly, pulling the blanket down from her chin.

“Do what?”

“Lie to them,” she told him, the Wonderbolt taking a second to search himself for the right answer.

“Because I’m not sure if I trust them,” he sighed, laying back into his sweat-soaked sheets, ignoring the pain that was telling him he was putting too much pressure on his broken wing.

“Mom said that it was wrong to lie,” Rose said, as if scolding Whiplash.

“Did she also tell you not to talk to strangers?” he asked her.

She nodded. She was a smart filly, he admitted. She knew that those ponies were not to be trusted.

---

"He saw something, didn't he. And the filly, too."

Tundra Cotten (the name they had agreed upon before entering the hospital) lit his cigarette and took a heavy drag. The alley they had stepped in was filthy, the ground beneath their hooves littered with trash and pooling puddles of stars knows what. It was a vile setting, though the two ponies hardly seemed out of place in their surroundings.

Willow was already dialing the secure line back to headquarters, her thin lips clenched between her crooked teeth. "Well if he did, we have bigger problems the Director will want to follow up on. I'm sure he already saw the news story on the Iron Shod."

"Funny thing, that," Tundra said, spitting a wad of mucus behind a dumpster and waving his cigarette. The smoke mixed with the smell of the alley, partly masking the smell while adding to the horridness as well. "Why would the royal brats be spinning a story of a fateful airship to the press."

"Because they know something is up, you stupid git," Willow seethed under her breath as she pressed the mobile to her ear. "How much they actually know is another story. You just worry about the Wonderbolt, Feldwing. I'll worry about this little whistleblower at the CED," she hissed as the line rang. "I'll see to it he doesn't jeopardize Dr. Haze's research. He'll regret running to the Princesses."

Her eyes locked as the mobile connected. "It's us," she spoke to the other end, looking to Tundra. "We have a problem. Quite a few to be exact."

Comments

[Captain_Cosmos]

I can't help but feel this was inspired by Power Rangers RPM