Chapter 1: Las Pegasus Part One
Mist sat in a comfy desk chair across from Reginald. The man himself seated at his desk in his private quarters with Right Hand Man watching the duo from across the room.
Her new boss smiled sheepishly. "I'm confined to my room for the next few days, doctors orders," he was still subdued but there was a determined air about him as he spoke. "I'm not going to sit around twiddling my thumbs however, I need to know exactly what we're dealing with in this world, our weaknesses, our limitations, and you are going to help."
"Where do you want me to start?" Mist asked.
Reginald rested his arms on the desk, leaning forward. "You mentioned our technology is superior, yes? Let's start there. Can you think of anything obvious to you, that could be a challenge for the clan in the future?"
"Resources," she stated simply. "Unless you have the means to manufacture equipment or parts necessary for maintaining the ship or your weapons, you'll eventually run out of supplies," she hummed in thought. "Any money you've got is worthless unless you can break it down into raw materials, gems are useful though. They have a wide variety of uses and applications across the globe, so even the lowest quality gemstone can be sold for a decent price."
"We do have a collection of jewels in the vault... I'd rather not sell them unless it's absolutely necessary."
Mist thought for a moment, she did have money stored away, she could live quite comfortably if she wanted to, but... there was always the risk she'd be recognized and the last thing she wanted was to be dragged back to Canterlot.
She hesitated. "...I could pay for important stuff, food, supplies and stuff...At least while you're starting out?"
Reginald looked surprised, a grateful smile spreading across his face. "That's very generous of you. We can work out finances later, I don't feel like tackling that just yet."
"No worries Sir, you're still recovering after all and I have nothing better to do." Mist replied.
Reginald nodded. "And the governments of this world?"
"Well the main political powerhouse is Equestria, ruled by Princess Celestia and Princess Luna," Mist explained. "As a whole Equestria is a peaceful kingdom, to the point where the criminal underworld settled into several major population centers. Las Pegasus has a thriving black market, Manehatten is colloquially known as Supervillain Central, and Canterlot itself is home to the Equestrian Branch of the Thieves Association. The almost utopian state of Equestrian society hides the criminal underworld all by itself."
Reginald smirked. "You don't sound too fond of your own people." he noted.
"No one wants anything to do with me," Mist stated. "I don't have any family I care to go back to so why should I sing the praises of a country that values conformity and social standing over understanding and self-expression?"
She was bitter, old emotional scars reopened for nth time, she left because it was either a life by her own rules or treated as a doll to be shown off and cooed at by socialites with more money than sense. She felt emotionally drained just thinking about it. "Anything else, Sir?"
"Yes, how's your room?" Reginald asked politely.
She wasn't expecting that question and scrambled to answer him. "Fine? I need to get a few things when I head to Florenway next week-"
"Next week? If you need anything, you can leave today. In fact, we need some parts to fix the engine and I was wondering if there was anywhere nearby that sold them," Reginald said, opening a draw and pulling out a list to show her. "I've written the base components as well if it turns out we have build the parts from scratch."
She looked at the list he placed in front of her, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar script. "... Sir, I can't read this."
Reginald hummed in thought and handed her a pen and a piece of paper. "Write something."
She took the pen in her right wing, writing Toppat 4 life and returning the pen. Reginald studied her little message.
"I'll have to set time aside for us to learn each others written language. Fortunately I seem to have come across an abundance of free time until I'm fully recovered," Reginald said, gesturing at Right Hand Man. "A certain someone won't let me do anything more strenuous than paperwork..."
"You're lucky you didn't crack your 'ead open on the flight panel..." Right retorted.
"We're lucky I landed the ship safely," Reginald replied and looked at Mist. "Anyway, why don't we get started while you're here?"
Mist nodded. "Sure, the written version of Ponish is a mix of letters and images derived from the pre-Equestrian pony languages of Old Ponish, Ancient Glyphii, and Auld Faelic," Mist said. "Names, especially those of people, places, or important events, are written in Faelic, with runes or images, a carry-over from when names were said to have a magic all their own. Numbers, units of measurement, and related terms are in Ancient Glyphii as modern day Ponish carried over the ancient pegasi numerical and measurement system. Everything else is written in Modified Ponish, an alphabet based on Old Ponish used by unicorns pre-unification."
Mist used her note as an example, pointing a hoof at the first word. "See this, it's an amalgam of the words top hat and tribe since we don't yet have a way of writing Toppat properly in Ponish and clan is a Griffish word that I don't know how to spell in Ponish."
Reginald watched her intently as she moved on to the next word. "This is the number four, represented by four lines spreading out from a single point like feathers on a wing, all numbers from zero to nine share the wing motif, numbers above nine are... complicated."
"Reminds me of roman numerals." Reginald commented.
Mist nodded and drew his attention to the final word. "This is the word life in Modified Ponish."
Reginald, now with the knowledge of what was written, looked at the message amused. "So, it reads Toppat 4 life..."
Mist felt embarrassed as she heard Right snort in amusement.
"An amusing way of displaying the intricacies of the written word," Reginald agreed. "Ours uses a twenty-six character alphabet and ten numerals, here let me give you an example..."
Mist's room was spartan in design, a bed pushed up against the wall, a dresser at the foot of the bed, a small table and chair, and an empty shelf next to a door that led to the attached bathroom. She sat on her bed, sorting through the contents of her saddlebag.
Kinda glad I didn't keep anything important at the house.
She pulled out a long, deep blue coat. Her own feathers, elegant white plumage, adorned the cuffs and collar. She laid the coat out on the bed, it was followed by a patchwork black and blue cotton turtleneck and matching pants. Finally, she dropped out four cushioned boots on floor by the bed.
Her old outfit, it was as if she never quit, it was like Bluebird was still some unsung hero and not a myth forgotten in the fast-paced current of society.
Mist pulled out a heavy black case from bag and placed in her lap. She opened it, the dark, tinted lenses of a her work goggles glinted back at her. Setting her glasses on the pillow behind her, she put the goggles on, and looked around. They still fit, bringing the world into such a sharp level of clarity that it rivalled the keen eyesight of a normal pegasus. It was a novel experience. Still wearing the padded piece of gear, Mist began pulling out various trinkets and spacing them out in front of her.
A piece of a blue curtain she'd cut off, from a film set in Applewood.
A blue silk coin purse she'd stolen from her grandmother.
A jewelry box filled with sapphires taken from every jewelry store part of the largest store chain in Equestria.
A powder blue feather boa she'd gotten as a gift in Las Pegasus for rescuing a mare from some pigheaded stallions that wouldn't take no for an answer.
A small teddy bear in blue pajamas she'd (rightfully) stolen back from her old Flight School friend.
Each item was a memento, proof of what she did, a reward for herself, her treasures. Mist hefted her saddlebags up to test the weight, they were still heavy. She checked both bags, one had her medication, nothing more than a few carefully labelled bottles and boxes, and an umbrella lay forgotten at the bottom.
In the other was a large sack of bits. Mist forgot she had it in there. With a bit of effort, she got the sack of bits out onto her bed.
Wow I saved up a lot of money... What was I going to do with it again?
Oh yeah, buy my own... airship...
She sat staring at the bag in contemplation. She had enough money in the bank to buy necessities for herself and she didn't see a reason to continue hoarding bits. Setting everything aside, Mist slid off the bed, dragging the sack behind her with her left wing, it hit the floor with a thud, and dragged across the metal floor as she left her room with determination. She was aware the Right Hand Man was following her as she lugged her cargo along, her wing protesting at the strain.
"You want some 'elp there girl?" Right asked from somewhere behind her, his steps a slow steady rhythm against the metal floor.
"Nope," she grunted, grabbing the sack in her other wing. "I got it."
She wanted the satisfaction of doing it herself, to prove she could. As proof she still could. She reached the door to Reginald's room at the other end of the hallway and Right walked past her to open it for her, smirking.
The look on her boss' face as she hauled the sack onto his desk was worth the minor ache in her wings.
Right Hand Man stood beside the pony as he listened to Reginald brief them from his desk chair.
"Now that repairs on the ship's exterior are underway, we need to get things ready for the work on the engine, and that means getting a hold of the necessary parts."
Right already knew this, the pony already knew this, but it was good to let his boss talk, to see him take charge after the events of the last few days. Ensuring Reginald recovered properly was always a chore, the man had a habit of taking on too much work, too quickly, and often into the dead of night. It meant Right would have to drag him away from his desk or put up with Reginald when was bored.
A bored Reginald was a cunning Reginald, and a pain in Right's backside. The pony kept his boss occupied thankfully, between Ponish lessons, finance management, and whatever work Right let him get away with. If it weren't for the complete silence of the ship's engine, Right could almost believe it was just another bog standard mission, get a feel for the new recruit, and get the job done.
"You two will heading to the city of Las Pegasus for the parts we need to finish repairs," Reginald stated. "Mist, you'll be in charge of the clan's budget for the cost of supplies. Purchase what we need and return as quickly as you can. Since this is your first mission, Right will go with you to see how well you do. Listen to him if something goes wrong."
The pony nodded. "Yes Sir."
Right stood just a bit straighter as Reginald addressed him. "Right, this will an undercover mission. You are to monitor Mist and make no mention of the clan to the locals, should you get in trouble, prioritize keeping yourself and Mist safe and away from danger. We don't want to alert the world to our presence just yet."
"Got it." Right said.
With a nod, they were dismissed. Right looked down at the pony. "I'll meet you outside the ship in half an hour. Make sure to pack for a long trip."
"It'll only be day-and-a-half long flight to Las Pegasus." the pony pointed out.
"What? You gonna fly us there?" Right asked in skepticism.
"Yeah."
"You? Who couldn't lift a sack of money without strainin' yourself?"
"Bits are seventy-five percent pure gold! They're heavy!" the pony protested.
Right walked over to stand in front of the door to his own quarters, crossing his arms. "So let me get this straight, you think you can carry me an' all of our gear for the trip all the way to Las Pegasus?"
"Yup."
The pony was crazy, she was bluffing, he was sure of it.
Right shook his head in disbelief. "Alright girl, I'll let have a go at it once we leave the ship, if you can hold all that weight an' stay in the air, we'll do it your way. You crash even once an' we're walking the rest of the way. Got it?"
The pony nodded. "Yes Sir."
"Don't call me Sir. Save the bootlicking for the boss." he growled, swiping his card to open the door to his room and walking inside.
The pony wasn't bluffing.
Right sat on the pony's back, mindful of her saddlebags, a hand on the brim of his hat, and the other holding onto the pony's mane. She wasn't flying high enough to risk injury if he fell off and they were moving at a steady, leisurely pace, but it was noticeably faster than walking.
"You sure you can keep this up?" he asked.
"Yup, we'll stop in White Tail Woods for lunch and reach the river by sundown," she replied. "I know a good place by the riverbank to set up camp for the night."
A sea of grass was below them as they flew in companionable silence, something Right could appreciate as it meant the pony was taking the mission seriously and not using the trip as an excuse to try and cozy up to him like so many other fresh faces to join the clan. He'd seen how passive she was with Reginald, eager to please, too eager. It hinted at something, either she was using the clan for her own gain or it was a sign that the pony had been put through the wringer enough times to do some serious damage to her self-esteem.
It was his job to figure out which.
If it was the first, she'd be kicked out by the end of the month. Having your own reason to join the clan fine, plenty of people joined for one reason or another, but if you endangered the clan for personnel gain, you'd tossed out the nearest exit. Right had weeded out those types before, her being a pony wouldn't change that. She'd slip up sooner or later.
However, the second outcome was trouble, not fot the clan per say but for the pony herself. In the past, they'd gotten recruits from broken families, runaways, or picked up off the street. Those members of the clan always had it rough, people who didn't mesh well with the violence and high stakes of a heist or a shoot-out. But the clan was all they had, their only refuge when society had given up on them. Right had no idea how to handle them.
Reginald knew though, what jobs to assign them, what things they needed, who worked best together. It was that excruciating level of detail and effort Reginald put into running the clan that made it what it was today, pulled it from the trainwreck the previous Toppat Chief had been steering it towards. And, Right knew the boss had noticed something about the pony, he wouldn't have asked her to join the clan otherwise. So, he supposed he just had to do his job and keep an eye on her.
Mist landed hours later in a small clearing in White Tail Woods, Right getting off her back to claim a seat on a fallen log. At heart she was an endurance flier, using the wind to her advantage but it had been quite some time since she'd flown for longer than it took for her to reach the village, and by the stars did she feel it.
Her wings felt like they would fall off, her chest twinged in pain from exertion, and she was glad to be able to rest. She walked over to and sat down on a large rock.
Right startled her as he spoke up. "Oi, you holdin' up alright?"
"Yeah, just gimme a bit..." she replied automatically.
"You don't look it," he commented. "Can't have you passing out on me."
She was annoyed by the remark "I'm not that bloody weak..." she grumbled, sliding her saddlebags off.
"Jus' don't want you hurting yourself for the sake of the mission." Right replied calmly.
"I need to do my job, I get it," Mist grumbled. "I'm not stupid."
Right raised an eyebrow. "No , you don't. We're a team, we 'ave a job to do, an' there's no room in the clan for self-sacrificing idiots that don't look after themselves."
Mist felt her heart sink, ears lying flat against her skull, and she focused on fishing her lunch and painkillers out from the depths of her bag.
She heard Right sigh.
"Listen Mist, I appreciate the gusto. But you can't keep pushing yourself like this, Reg an' I noticed you ain't in the best of shape an' we can't 'elp you if you don't speak up. Toppats look out for each other."
"Sorry Sir." Mist replied meekly.
"I told you, don't call me that..." Right complained. "We'll take it easy for a couple of hours. If you feel up to it, we can fly the rest of the way to camp, an' if not I don't mind walking there. Understand?"
"Yes."
"Alright then."
They ate in silence, Mist wasn't one for small talk and it appears Right wasn't either. The painkillers did their job and the respite helped her regain her strength. Mist wasn't sure why Right made a big deal out of her pushing herself, it felt like he was butting in, he had no idea! The pain was temporary and she'd been through worse. The last thing she wanted was to slow them down, to be a disappointment. She felt fragile enough as it was and she didn't need it rubbed in her face that she was a shadow of her former self.
Her own body did that already.
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Liking it so far, and a POV change is perfectly normal for a story. Just be sure you are clear when that happens, which you were.
This story has certainly caught my interest.
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Oh good.
10535985
I'm glad.
I am quite interested in where this goes so far it seems interesting
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Thanks.
10536001
Also congratulations on the feature
10536004
Thanks, it was a nice surprise, that's for sure.
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We only see Right Hand Man and Reginald working, on the clock as it were, we have no idea how the Toppat Clan operates behind-the-scenes, aside from the fact that Reginald does care about the clan in some capacity and that Right is fiercely loyal and a close friend to Reginald.
Consider this a different take on them, a different perspective.
So far I'm not liking Right too much. Him threatening someone trying to help his boss just makes him look like a dick.
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Right is fiercely loyal to Reginald, we see plenty of evidence of that in the games. It makes sense for him to be standoffish when an outsider walks in, helpful or not.
He does come around though, keep reading.