A Fleeting Chance

by Nygell The Glutius

The Reckoning of Gravel

Princessyn Square, the pride and joy of the city, now was sacred ground that offered nourishment--not without sacrifice of course. Ponies heaved sackfuls of bits, only to receive pathetic amounts of rations in return, meager crumbs still divided among a family. Although life worsened as the months passed, a routine was developed again. I would go to the Square, listen to the rantings of angry ponies while I waited in line, give the merchants half my day’s wages, and finally I would receive a pouch of grain before heading home, the lines still stretching long and thin like a starving snake. Often, I saw many try to bargain with the merchants to no avail. Other delusional ponies, despite the crisis, tried to buy the luxurious machines and novelties the higher class enjoyed, at the cost of their own nutrition.

I frequently zoned out hearing voices of the speakers. However, the listeners today were more impassioned than usual. The stallion orating to them was sleek and dark coated, with an even darker mane and icy, blue eyes. He addressed his amassed audience.

“Comrades! Look at how the bourgeoisie relish with their private granaries and give not even a single grain to aid us in our time of need! Look at how the Regent and her harmony have made us slaves to Equestria, forever producing their necessities and luxuries while leaving us to the shadows! My friend, Steel Stallion, knows this as well as you do. Even now he works to free us from our shackles by planning for a society where all ponies are equal, and not under the rule of Harmonic Monarchists! All he and I ask of you is to take up arms as the proletariat and throw out these capitalist and corrupt vermin!”

The crowd erupted in applause, hooting and hollering for this Steel Stallion. His friend’s speech drew more than just my attention. Guards, wielding new pony adapted pistols and saddles equipped with rifles, approached the crowd.

“That’s enough from you blank flanks, get moving or else we’ll make you wish you could,” their leader commanded.

Some of the more timid ponies, myself included, began to disperse from the area, but a majority of the crowd stayed put. The sounds of the Beasts from their spurned district echoed loudly and pierced the thick silence created by the crowd’s defiance. Seconds slowed to hours as both groups attempted to impose itself on the other. The leader spoke again.

“I’ll say it one more time. Get your jacks out of the area before we make you. The square is for food distribution only. You’re all lucky we haven’t indicted you all for treason for listening to that scum.”

The mass only glared back at the Guards whose weapons were aimed at them. My body froze, morbidly curious to find out the conclusion of this predicament. The leader placated.

“Let it not be known that I am not a stallion of action, especially to the Captain, but I am fair at the very least. Leave. Now.”

“You Guards are as corrupt as the Regent and your greedy Captain!” a voice snapped from the crowd. At this response, the leader turned back to his Guards, stepping aside.

“Guards! Fire at will!”

A cacophony of booms reverberated through the fresh autumn air, as ponies fell like the leaves of trees and scattered as chaotically as dust in the wind. I ran away quickly, hoping that the Guards did not think I was part of the crowd.

---

Today was a stressful day in the factory, enough that I did not have the chance to greet Gravel when I arrived. Workers and managers alike scurried about preparing for the coming of the Chief Executive. He had never scheduled an inspection, much less with deadlines for us to meet “consumer demands”, which led to many employees experiencing anxiety attacks. I managed to muster some semblance of organization on the main factory floor, but I noticed that the workers seemed to be more on edge than usual. They usually shrugged off the Chief’s arrival better than us managers. Now, they were careful and deliberate in their movements as if any wrong shift of their bodies would jeopardize the future forever. Even the Beast’s industrial heart pumped faintly. Deciding that my efforts were sufficient, I galloped to Gravel’s office for any other tasks she may need done.

Her office was...clean and tidy. Her mane, usually minimally managed, was fixed into a bun, complimenting the business suit she wore. The desk was clear, save for some documents and a briefcase. She turned her head towards the doorway.

“Hello Toffee,” she greeted softly. “Have a seat. I must tell you something.”

I cautiously adjusted myself to the chair facing her, and I cocked my head at Gravel’s new appearance. “What did you need to tell me?”

Gravel sighed. “I need ya...” She cleared her throat. “I need you to take care of my office while I show the Chief around. He wanted to talk with me personally over any gripes that he might find rather than come here to talk about them. Shouldn’t be too long until he arrives.”

“Easy enough.”

Cautiously, her eyes narrowing, she added, “When I come back with him, I’m also going to need you to stand to the right of me when we have our seats and to be silent unless spoken to.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“He expects me to have a secretary of sorts and he keeps on nagging about it every visit. For today, you’re the next best thing.”

I nodded my head in acknowledgment. Gravel relaxed a little. “Good. I’ll head downstairs to wait for the Chief. Stay put.” She levitated the briefcase and trotted out the door.

Boredom took hold of me as I waited in the office. I almost fell asleep in one of the chairs until gunshots jolted me out of my fatigued stupor. Fearing that another confrontation between Guards and workers was occurring, I scrambled to the window and observed the outside. Instead, I saw Gravel with another suited pony and his entourage of associates at the makeshift gun range where we would test our factory’s weapons periodically. I sighed in relief, but the lengthiness of their testing kept me anxious. Regardless, my eyelids almost drooped shut, but snapped open when I heard hoofsteps approaching the office’s door. I quickly took my place to the right of Gravel’s chair, anticipating my master and Gravel. The sound of judgment filled the room when the door finally opened.

“The fact of the matter is that you are driving this factory’s profits into the negatives, Miss Bubble! Your demonstration has shown nothing but evidence that your expenses on these...workers have amounted to nothing!”

The Chief Executive appeared in my vision, allowing me to truly see the tamer of life. He was a giant among ponies, dwarfing even Princess Celestia. His black suit and tie consumed the color and soul of his surroundings like an abyss. His eyes held the eternal images of hardships and impossible obstacles that dared to impede him as he soared to great heights. I trembled and shuddered, unable to handle the information my eyes fed to me. In one moment, he could destroy the factory by willing it to do so. By working here, I worked for him. He holds the world in his hooves, and I was only one grain of that control. This seemed to not bother Gravel who spoke to him nonchalantly.

“Sir, I must assure you that this demonstration shows more than what meets the eye.” She sat in her chair and set the briefcase on the desk. “Please have a seat, sir. Some wine perhaps?”

The Chief scowled at her while he sat down. He gave no indication that he noticed I was by Gravel’s side. “I am not as inclined to drink as you are, Miss Bubble. What I want is an explanation as to why I should not fire you at this very moment.”

Gravel chuckled. “Why an explanation when another demonstration could suffice.” She opened the briefcase and pulled out a new model revolver our company was producing. “Sir, if you look closely, you will see the cracks in the metal, deterioration of the hammer, and corrosion of the chambers. These are a mere few examples among the many imperfections of this firearm produced at your most favored factory.”

She levitated the revolver to the Chief who took it in his own majestic aura. As he inspected the weapon, Gravel manipulated another revolver out from the briefcase. A glint from one of the chambers caught the notice of my eye. She spoke again.

“Sir, my factory’s firearms are flawless! Even after one thousand rounds, this one still functions and looks like new.” She cocked the hammer, and the glint disappeared. My breathing slowed almost to a stop. “My expenses are worth it in the long term. My old Pop always said to me that ‘happy workers are good workers’, and good workers can make excellent, durable products. That will create consumer trust in our brand because, sir…” Gravel leveled the revolver at the unsuspecting head of the Chief, still enraptured in the other revolver. Noticing the tension in the air, he looked up from his inspection. “...our revolvers will work every time.”

Divine fury manifested on the Chief’s face. “Miss Gravel Bubble! How dare you point that at me, your superior, of all ponies!”

Gravel’s salespony grin melted into an uncomfortably expressionless form. “Sorry Chief, but ya ain’t that to anypony no more.”