My Little Old Republic: The Smuggler and the Thief

by AidanMaxwell

Part 1

Old Galactic Market, Coruscant, One Year Ago

Pinkie sauntered out of the cantina later that night with a briefcase of credit chips strapped to her back. Cheers of delight and merriment continued to emanate from the bar behind her, ponies drunk off their rockers over the blowout tournament match. While happy to throw a party, something about being drunk rubbed Pinkie the wrong way. Like it was almost excessive.

But that seemed silly. You can’t have too much fun, right?

The suitcase was light but jiggled with every bouncy step she took, being full of credit chips. It was split up into piles to diversify the payout, but it still felt like more money than Pinkie knew what to do with. Her ship needed some maintenance, and she could use a new weapon or two, and maybe a few sweets for the next trip. The thought crossed her mind to line all the hallways on her ship with neon glowsticks, just for fun; perhaps she could throw a disco ball into the cargo hold and install a new stereo, too.

“Then I could call it The Party Cruiser,” she mused to herself. “Or The Party Star. Oh! Oh! The Party Wagon!”

She meandered down the sidewalk with her winnings, thinking aloud of names for her newly redesigned vessel, oblivious to the ponies following after her. Three headhunters, each dressed in combat suits and carrying blasters on their belts, keeping their distance while they closed on Pinkie. The ponies in the crowd around them paid no mind, since bounty hunters chased after smugglers all the time in the lower city.

As one of the bounty hunters pulled his pistol out and aimed it at Pinkie Pie, one pedestrian bystander cried “Blaster!” and everypony dropped to the ground. The confused hunter whipped his hoof back to survey the crowd, not wanting to hit a civilian and getting arrested by the local police, just as Pinkie dashed into a nearby tunnel in the confusion. She didn’t stop when she reached the corner, opting instead to race down the alley and back into another street far away from the cantina.

Briefcase secure and heart thumping, Pinkie leaned against a stone wall and took a moment to catch her breath. “Wonder what that was about?” she muttered to herself.

“I reckon it was ‘bout that there case a’ yours,” said a voice from behind her. She wheeled around to see another pair of bounty hunters. “You ‘ave a lot of money there, miss champion.”

“What? But I just won a couple hours ago!” she exclaimed. “How can a bounty already be posted?”

“No offense to you, a’course, ma’am,” the pony replied apologetically. “The bounty was placed just after the game ended. Some bloke just wanted the winner ex-ed and the winnings brought to ‘im.”

“Ex-ed?” Pinkie echoed. “You mean, like...”

“Like, dead, ma’am.”

“Oh... But, you don’t sound so sure. Can’t we make a deal?”

“I’m ‘fraid not, ma’am.” The hunter raised his rifle, leveling it with Pinkie’s eyes. His silent friend did the same. “It’s a shame, too. So young a sheila. Got a name, missie?”

As quick as lightning, Pinkie whipped her hooves across her belt and drew both of her pistols. She pulled the triggers and shot two stun bolts at the pair of bounty hunters, knocking them cold in the middle of the street. After a moment, Pinkie caught her breath and realized her situation was much more serious than a few bounty hunters coming after her. Every gunpony in the Old Galactic Market was going to be on her tail until she had gotten off Coruscant, at which point she could use her winning to change her identity... again.

Making sure the coast was clear, Pinkie ducked off the back alley and returned to the main concourse, shielding her face from everypony she passed in an effort to stay somewhat innocuous. The speeder pad wasn’t far away, and she figured if she could rent one, a trip to the spaceport would get her to the safety of her ship. The steps leading to the rental speeder pad came into view as four Mandalorian warriors descended from the high rooftops ahead of her using descender cables.

“Oh, come on!” Pinkie cried, twisting around and bolting in the opposite direction. Blaster fire erupted behind her as she managed to swing herself around a corner and plant her face firmly against a wall. Backing up, she noticed the small nook was a dead end, save for a sewer drain just below her hooves. She ripped the cover off the drain and leaped headlong down the shaft, landing in a pool of stagnant, murky water. When she surfaced, all she could see was a dim light shining down on her and shadows dancing across the light from above.

“Where is she? Where’d she go?” The Mandalorians poked their heads into the sewer as Pinkie swam into the darkness, ignoring the stench in fear of her life.

When she was sure they hadn’t followed her in, Pinkie stopped and treaded water where she was, trying to see ahead of her. It was then that the smell of the sewer finally hit her, and she nearly choked on the putrid odor. Murky, disgusting scum clung to her clothes and urine-mixed water soaked into her hair. Pinkie whimpered softly as she tread the grimy waters. The comfort of rubbing her eyes was denied her due to the substance she was swimming in. Tears welled up in her eyes, not just from the overwhelming stench, but from the exhaustion and the bewilderment of her predicament. Despite that, she pushed herself on, swimming further down the tunnel in search of an exit.

She swam on and on, for what felt like forever, until a faint light slowly glistened into view, piercing the darkness like an arrow. Beside her, a set of rungs stapled into the metal walls led up to the exit. Pinkie grabbed hold of the first rung, then the next, and pulled herself out of the sewage toward the light, not stopping until she reached the top and pushed the cover away and crawled into the street. She didn’t know where she was, or how she was going to get the smell of feces out of her mane, but she was happy to have a moment of peace to catch her breath.

That moment ended abruptly when a snapping sound scared Pinkie Pie, causing her to stand up and take aim. A young stallion, who had been passing by her when she emerged, jumped at the sight of the barrels of her pistols.

“Woah, woah, woah!” he protested, throwing his hooves up. “What’s your deal, lady?”

“Huh?” Pinkie blinked, then lowered her pistols slowly. “Sorry. I’m a little on edge. I’m Pinkie Pie!”

“Yeah, good to know,” replied the stallion. “You smell like poo.”

“I just swam in the sewers not too long ago,” she explained with a frown, glancing at the briefcase strapped to her back. She put a hoof around it and pulled it to her chest, throwing a wary glance at the stallion.

“I would never have guessed, seeing as you just came out of that sewer pipe. Bet that was fun.”

“Oh, no no no no no, not at all! In fact, it was awful! I’ve never smelled anything so bad in my life! I mean, sheesh, guys, couldn’t you put the sewage somewhere else? Somepony might die of... of... stink... Yeah.”

“I suppose my sarcasm has gone unappreciated,” said the stallion, slapping his face with his hoof. “Anyway, I’m Lemon Drop. You said your name was Pinkie Pie, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“You seem to be quite burdened by that briefcase, Ms. Pinkie Pie.”

She shook her head rapidly. “No, not really.”

Lemon rolled his eyes. “I mean, it’s appears to be a problem for you.”

“Actually, it’s kinda light—”

“It’s drawing a lot of unwanted attention.”

Pinkie blinked again. Lemon was holding both hooves in front of him, like was about to grab something and strangle it. “Oh. Hah. Yeah. There’s a bunch of bounty hunters following me, and—”

“Bounty hunters? What’d you do?”

The question sounded sincere, but she didn’t feel quite comfortable discussing her situation to a stranger. Pinkie looked the stallion over, to better guess his motives, and found only sadness. His jacket was ripped and the sleeves were missing. Where normally sweatpants kept you warm, his seemed to have been shot and singed in a few places, where the numerous holes had black, jagged edges inside them. He had no visible weapon on him.

“Why should I trust you?” Pinkie asked, tilting her head to the side. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to trust you, but I only just met you, and my mom always told me not to trust strangers unless they’re cops, which is ironic because I’m a smuggler—”

Lemon Drop shoved his hoof into her mouth and pointed out toward the skyline. Pinkie turned to see a speeder fly by, with a trio of angry bounty hunters holding rifles across their shoulders. They looked in every direction except at her before flying away again. “Somepony comes by every few minutes. Every hunter in the Market is probably looking for you.”

Pinkie gulped. “I guess I could use a helping hoof right about now.”

“My place is just around this corner. Small, hidden. Come inside and rest a while.”

Still wary but eager to get off the road, Pinkie followed him around the corner and was appalled to see yet another storm drain, and her jaw nearly hit the ground when he lifted it up. As he crawled into it, she shook her head rapidly. “I think I’d rather take my chances out here than go back in there.”

“Your call, lady,” he sang as he delved into the sewer.

-~-~-~-~-~

Present Day

“So what’d you do?” asked Rainbow Dash anxiously, banging her hoof against the metal box in front of her.

Pinkie Pie jumped at the sound, spilling some water from the glass she’d been sipping from onto her vest. “Aww, Dashie, let me finish my drink before I finish my story!”

“I must say, whoever set up that bounty must have been very eager to get his hooves on that money,” Twilight noted. “To have you killed, it seems like more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Oh, I know, right?” Pinkie agreed cheerfully, setting down her empty glass. Lemon picked it up to take it into the ship’s kitchen to be cleaned, and she slapped him across the back of the head before he got away. “Stop working, Lemony! I need your help to tell this story!”

“Dishes!” he argued.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Bleh!”

“Bleh!” he replied, mimicking the motion.

“Do it later,” Pinkie insisted with large, pleading eyes. “Pweeze?”

“Fine, whatever.” Lemon sat down and turned to Twilight and Dash, “So where was she? I guess we’d just gotten to my place. It took some convincing, but I got her to follow me down there.”

-~-~-~-~-~

One Year Ago

Pinkie Pie was holding her breath as she descended the ladder into the sewer pipe, expecting to be assaulted by a disgusting odor. Instead, her hooves hit the metal floor after only three rungs, and she looked down to see she was inside a rusted pipeline, long abandoned and disconnected from the other sewers. Lemon was standing at one end, resting his back against a large metal cap on the back of the pipe. An identical cap was placed on the other end as well, sealing off about fifty feet of sewer pipeline from the main capillary.

The smell was almost completely gone, though vague remnants lingered in the air of what was once the constant flow of pony waste. Signs of past use were still visible on the partially stained sides of the artificially lit pipe section. Rugged makeshift furniture sparsely decorated the space. Lemon Drop had a table and chair made of rotted wood and rusted metal, an ornately designed wicker screen, a springboard bed with a decrepit mattress, a dresser overflowing with clothes of all colors and sizes, and a tub on the ground inside a ruptured section of the sewage pipe. Water coursed from a smaller pipe just above the tub and drained into it like a faucet.

“This is what I call home,” he said cheerfully. He gestured to the tub and smiled at it. “Right here, somepony planted a bomb in an assassination attempt. Because they were installing new plumbing nearby anyway, they left the old shaft in disrepair and built around it. They didn’t fix the leak, so now I use it as a shower slash sink slash water fountain.”

“You use it as a shower?” Pinkie repeated curiously. “Is it clean water?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. It’s just like any other water on Coruscant. And I installed a valve onto this section of the pipe, so I can turn it off when I’m not home.” Sure enough, when Pinkie looked, she could see a round valve cap above the lip of the faucet. Lemon gestured to the tub and laughed. “So, Pinkie Pie, would you like to be rid of your smell?”

“Oh, I, uhm...” Pinkie’s cheeks turned pink, if that was even possible. “I don’t know...”

“If you’re worried about me,” Lemon assured, “there’s a wicker screen you can use to shield yourself from my view. I’m just trying to be a nice host.”

“I wouldn’t wanna put you off, then,” Pinkie conceded, moving closer to the tub. “Thank you so so sooo much.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Lemon laughed, pulling the screen to Pinkie and extending it between him and her. He took a seat in his chair as the sound of wet clothes being pulled was followed by the sight of said wet clothes being thrown at the wall. “I have a ton of old clothes, if you need a fresh outfit.”

“That’d be aweso-o-oh geez this water’s freezing!”

“Twist the valve further toward that rusted part. It’ll start spewing hot water.” Lemon waited a moment in his chair, to make sure she figured it out. He was about to stand up when steam began to emanate from behind the screen. Relieved, he sat back down. “So, Ms. Pinkie Pie, how deep in crap are you?”

“I’m not in the sewer anymore!” she called back over the water.

Lemon’s hoof instantly slammed against his face. “No, I mean, what kind of trouble are you in? Why are all these hunters looking for you?”

“Oh! Well, I guess I can tell you, but if you try anything funny, I’m gonna hurt you.”

“I promise not to try anything, then.”

“You gotta Pinkie Promise.”

His right eyebrow shot up. “Pinkie Promise?”

“Yeah!” Pinkie poked her head out from behind the screen, her mane dripping wet and flat against her face. The silty color had been scrubbed from her hair, bringing out her overwhelmingly pink natural color. “You cross your heart, hope to fly, then stick a cupcake in your eye. And then you can’t break your promise!”

“Ah, I... see.” Lemon stood up and cleared his throat. “Then I... cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye... whatever a cupcake is.”

“Good!” Pinkie’s head retracted behind the screen as quickly and randomly as it had shot out. “So, I won the Sabacc championship a few hours ago, and these hunters are after my briefcase. It’s got the money in it. Apparently they want me dead, too...”

Her voice trailed off at the sound of the word “dead.” Lemon’s initial instinct was to respond with words of comfort, but his eyes wandered to the sopping, putrid briefcase lying against the side of the pipe next to Pinkie’s clothes. Supposedly, in that briefcase, was a sum of money equal to a street-urchin’s retirement fund, and it was just sitting there, unguarded. All he had to do was stand up, take the case, and walk out. He’d never have another problem in life ever again.

It was so simple, so easy...

“So, Lemony Snicket,” Pinkie suddenly chirped from the shower, snapping Lemon’s head back toward the screen, “tell me about you.”

“Me? I’m a...” His eyes wandered back to the briefcase for a second. “I’m a thief. I steal for a living. When I was just a colt, my parents left me on my own here in the undercity, and I’ve grown up in gangs. I learned from the best of the best when it comes to lowlives and criminals. Unfortunately, I’m such a nice and tender-hearted natured stallion, I try to steal as little as I can. It causes this... moral dilemma in my soul.”

“You need to work on that,” Pinkie responded evenly. “Bring a lowlife means you need to overcome your morals to survive. But, hey! That’s cool! So, what’s it like being a thief?”

“Well, I’m naturally quite... poor. And all the stuff in here doesn’t belong to me. None of those clothes, or the dresser they’re in, that tub you’re using, that screen between me and you, this chair, my bed... all of it, repurposed. Some of it came from the dump, but a lot of it was straight up taken from somepony. But just because I don’t live in the lap of stolen luxury doesn’t mean I’m a bad thief. In fact, I’m the best on Coruscant. I just have... some morals.”

“Yeah, you said that.” The water shut off, and Lemon looked over to see a clean, albeit soaked, Pinkie Pie standing beside the screen with no clothes on. Her smile was the first thing Lemon saw, her pearly whites beaming at him from across the room. As she shook her head, her mane seemed to puff out before his eyes, inflating into a cotton candy-esque shape of billowy pink chaos. Her round, blue eyes fluttered open, and she locked her gaze on his face. “Thank you for the shower. I reeeeally needed it. You’re my new best friend, okie dokie?”

Lemon stared at her, mouth agape, his cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink.

“You okay, Lemon Drop?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Wha? I, uh, erm... yeah, I’m fine. You, uh, need some clothes?”

“I washed mine in the tub, but they won’t be dry for a while,” Pinkie answered. “That’s not as important as what I need to do next, though. I need to get to the spaceport and leave in my ship.”

“Good luck with that,” Lemon said with a snort. “Every hunter in the Galactic Market district is looking for you. Don’t you think your ship would be the first place they’d look?”

Pinkie raised her hoof and opened her mouth to retort, but the truth of Lemon’s words seemed to hit her like an anvil. After a few seconds, she sniffled loudly. Tears formed in the lids of her eyes.

“My ship... I... How will I get away now? What’ll I do? Where will I go? Who will feed Gummy?” She paced frantically, sniffling louder and louder until finally she hiccupped. That hiccup set her off, and Pinkie began crying hysterically, her eyes spouting more water than Lemon’s faucet. Almost immediately, she rolled onto the floor and buried her face in her forelegs. “Why is everything happening to me?”

Amid her crying, she felt a hoof touch lightly against her back. She instantly sat up and grabbed ahold of Lemon. He found it very hard to breathe. “Ack, Pinkie Pie, loosen up... Eep!”

“I don’t wanna die, Lemony!” she wailed into his ripped shirt, still producing rivers of tears. “I wanna find my ship, and go far away... Aaaaaaaaaaaahahahahaaaah!”

“Pinkie...” He looked down at her and saw something that made him smile. This mare, who had literally appeared out of nowhere, needed help. Help he could provide. He saw a business opportunity. If he could get passage off of Coruscant with this mare’s ship, he could leave the filthy slums behind him and begin a life somewhere new, where he could get a real job and buy his own ship. That briefcase of money was still a perfectly viable option. All he needed to do was win Pinkie’s friendship. “Hey, cheer up. It’s late. Spend the night, sleep this off, and in the morning, I’ll help you get your ship back, okay?”

Pinkie sniffled one last time before looking up at Lemon with solemn, sad eyes. Huge, round, beautiful blue eyes, misty and red around the rims. “R-really?!”

He nodded. “Yeah, of course. What are... friends for, right?”

The hug tightened again. Lemon returned the hug and smiled deviously over her shoulder. He put a hoof around her back and patted it slowly. Now all he needed was that briefcase. After that, whatever happened to Pinkie was her problem, not his.