Sky Pirate Pip and the Dreaded Dreadnaught Die Großartige und Mächtige Trixieburg

by alt-tap

Chapter 9: And the horse I rode in on.

Chapter 9: And the horse I rode in on.

Scootaloo slept restlessly in her medicated cloudbed. Even under the regenerative magics, or possibly because of them, her entire body itched like mad. She woke again and glanced groggily out the steel framed window at the blazing orange sunset. Wisps of cloud glowed pinkish purple as they drifted across the sky.

A familiar, silky voice drew Scootaloo’s attention to the other side of the bed. “I still can’t get your eye color right.”

A pegasus stood beside her in the darkened room. A midnight purple flight suit clung to her sinuous body. Her strong, skyblue wings fluttered restlessly at her sides with post flight jitters. Her windswept rainbow mane rustled softly as she peeled the black hood from her head.

“Rainbow Dash?” Scootaloo mumbled sleepily, briefly rubbing her eye with a bandaged hoof in an attempt to clear her still blurry vision.

“It’s been too long, kid,” Rainbow replied, giving Scootaloo a gentle nuzzle on the unburned patch where her goggles had covered the bridge of her snout. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too, Dash,” Scootaloo replied, her voice still raspy and weak from the smoke and fire she inhaled just yesterday.

Rainbow Dash walked around the bed to the window. “I wish I could say I was just here to visit,” she said quietly, gazed out at the sunset. “Moon Butt and Big Sexy have me flying errands from The Rookery all the way up to Fjord-vill and back; price of being the best, I guess.”

“So,” Scootaloo began hesitantly, “If you’re not just visiting…”

Rainbow turned away from the window and held up a long hexagonal locket. “Her Royal Moonienes told me to give this to you,” she said, placing the locket on the bedside table and giving Scoot a smile. “I don’t know what it is, but she said you’ll figure it out.”

Scootaloo chuckled softly. “I’ll never get over how sexy your voice is now.”

Rainbow blushed slightly, but laughed along. “Ya, well, that's just part of growing up, I guess.” She turned and opened the window. “Anyway, I gotta fly. I’ll come visit again when I get the chance.”

Scootaloo awoke to the sound of careful hoof steps. “Is she sleeping?” she heard her attending nurse whisper.

“No, I’m awake,” Scoot replied, poking her head out from under a layer of cloud. The nurse was standing in the doorway with a dinner tray resting on her back. Her white coat reflected the warm pinks and soft reds of the sunset.

“Where did this come from?” Scootaloo turned to see her mother holding a long hexagonal locket in her scarlet hoof. Her flaxen mane fluttered in the chilly breeze coming through the open window.

Scootaloo smiled. “It’s a gift Rainbow gave me once.”

*******

“Are you sure leaving Quick Fix up there all by herself was a good idea?” Ditzy Doo asked Sweetie Belle as they approached the Pie family house.

“What do you mean?” Sweetie replied innocently, distracted by the stark contrast between the ultramodern airshipyard behind her, the quaint and rustic homestead in front of her and the massive bazaar of canvas tents and wooden wagons beyond.

“Well, Pip just seems a bit protective of his ship,” Ditzy explained, “our ship I guess, and it seems to me that he might not take finding her sitting next to the ship’s vault, tinkering with the thing that was in the vault, terribly well.”

Sweetie took a moment to consider that while she climbed the few steps to the porch. “You do have a point,” she relented, magically opening the door to the farmhouse, “but, it was entirely within my authority as first officer, and in following Pip’s orders.”

Ditzy followed her in, closing the door with a wing. “You should at least leave a note or something so he doesn’t freak out if he gets back first.”

“G’day.” A husky, yet distinctly female, voice called their attention to a long desk, behind which stood a thinly built, amber coated diamond dog wearing a carmine silk vest. “Welcome to the Everparty.”

Sweetie Belle was stunned into silence. All of her experience with Equestria’s dog people had been in conflicts of one form or another, which ended in blood far more often then she would like to admit. To be so casually, even politely, greeted by one was so unexpected that she was at a loss for even a reaction, let alone a reply.

Ditzy, on the other hoof, was not so affected. “Good evening,” she said with a smile. “We’re just here for some shopping and relaxation. Are any of the sisters around?”

“Oh, sorry, love,” the dog replied, leaning on the desk in a relaxed slouch. “Inky just stepped out. If you wanna to wait a bit, Blinkie and Maud should be here- oh, right now apparently,” she amended, gesturing to the hall that led towards the back of the house, and a dark gray mare making her way towards them.

The mare gave the slightest smile and nod. “Hay,” she said placidly. "Blinky felt something weird in the flint field; she’ll probably be out there for a while.”

“Ditzy,” Sweetie Belle whispered through clenched teeth “am I hallucinating, or is that a friendly chien-garou behind the desk.”

Ditzy couldn’t help but laugh a little; she was so used to the diamond dogs of the Everparty that she often forgot how most of Equestria viewed their kind. “One of many,” she said softly into Sweetie Belle’s ear, “Pinkie Has a smile for every face, as they say.”

Leaving Sweetie to gather her thoughts, Ditzy trotted over to bump hooves with Maud. “Long time no see,” she said with a smile. “How are things on the farm?”

“Nice,” Maud replied, slipping behind the counter. “Things are comparatively mellow at the moment. It’s... nice.” Having said her part, the enigmatic mare busied herself with some papers.

Ditzy returned to Sweetie Belle and ushered her towards the exit with a wing. “Let’s leave these nice ladies to their work,” she said, eager to begin their night of fun.

*******

Trixie stood motionless, expressionless. Her mind spun sickeningly. Where am I? In the distance she saw a familiar mountain, the same one she once worked by during her time on the rock farm oh so long ago. The land was nearly barren then, but now a vast spectacle of light sprawled out from the mountain’s face. So much light, so much joy.

The ephemeral threads of reality slowly rewove themselves around her. She was standing on a ship, an airship. Surrounding it were more ships, dozens more, all loaded to bear for battle, all headed for the mountain.

Somewhere in the background somepony screamed. The voice was full of pain and terror… and rage.

“This is wrong,” she whispered. The nightmares of the past weeks suddenly became horrifyingly real, every life needlessly taken and every atrocity committed now stained her hooved and her mind. Tears welled up in her eyes. “What have I done?”

They all deserved it. A cloying shadow in the back of her mind slithered through her thoughts. Somewhere behind her a haunting melody drifted across the deck, full of oily, inequine words that Trixie couldn’t entirely hear. The world can be yours. Just follow the music. Just as quickly as clarity came, it vanished, replaced by timeless echoes of some unknowable language, binding her mind like icy shackles.

Help me!

*******

“Wow this place is big,” Sweetie Belle exclaimed, mostly to herself. The party was reaching its daily peak as the sun set. Vendor’s tents and wagons stretched as far as the eye could see, selling everything from crystalline honeysuckle to homemade furniture to specialty colored and scented clouds. Music came from nearly every direction, voices rose and fell in rhythm and every face she saw had a smile.

“You should see it during the Moonlight Masquerade they hold in the winter,” Ditzy shouted over the din of joviality, nudging Sweetie with a wing. “It’s as big a party as you’ll ever see. Oh, and the costumes.”

“Well what are we waiting for?” Sweetie said, rearing in excitement. “Let’s go!” And into the crowd she ran.

Ditzy took to the air and made chace. It took little effort to catch up, and less still to find her alabaster quarry in the multicolor mob, already haggling with a young Mareabian colt over a cashmere scarf. Landing, however, was not as simple in the crowded market.

Sweetie Belle didn’t miss a beat as Ditzy landed on her back. “Forty bits just doesn’t sound reasonable; the tassels alone could be a liability in our line of work.”

The sandy colored colt stood on a table of scarves. On the tent’s walls behind him were hung an assortment of woven goods, ranging from saddles and saddlebags to an arrangement of unusual hats and other accessories, all made with the distinctive style and quality that made Saddle Mareabia one of the biggest trading hubs in the known world.

“Surely, madam, you see the value of this material,” the colt replied, only momentarily distracted by the pegasus landing on his client. “It is sure to be the most comfortable scarf you ever perches, and you said it matched your husbands cutiemark. Is a gift for your lover not worth at least thirty five bits?” This colt clearly had a good mentor.

“It is nice fabric,” Sweetie admitted, making a show off examining the scarf, “and the craftsmareship is also quite good, but I’ve seen my sister, Rarity, sell similar pieces for twenty bits set rate.” And there was the celebrity discount.

The colt glanced up at the Seltenheit, looming overhead, and back to Sweetie Belle. “Let us make it Forty-five bits and I will give saddlebag of your choice for no charge. That is fair and generous, yes?”

Sweetie smiled and presented a hoof. “I think so, yes.”

The colt returned her smile, though with less sincerity, and bumped the offered hoof with his own. “Now,” he said abruptly and jumped to a table covered with silk sashes above which hung the saddlebags, “which of these lovely saddlebags would you most like?”

Sweetie hemmed and hawed for a bit out of principle, but her decision had been made at the first mention of bags. “I think I’ll have the white one with the amaryllis pattern, please.”

“Ah! An excellent choice, madam,” the colt said enthusiastically, skillfully flicking the bag from it’s hook to the counter with a stick.

“Thank you,” Sweetie Belle said politely, Bits already stacked neatly on the counter.

“You are quite welcome,” the colt replied, fake smile clinging tenuously to his face while Sweetie gathered her prizes into her bag.

They made their way through the market with relative ease. Ditzy managed to land before too long and fell in step beside Sweetie.

“Your turn,” Sweetie said as Ditzy came up beside her. “Where to next?”

“No way to tell,” Ditzy replied. “The vendors change all the time, but that’s part of the fun!”

“Okay, keep your eyes open for a book seller or anypony who might have a table orrery.”

“Hay!” A gryphon called through the market noise, his long, slender legs allowing him to step over much of the crowd. “Did you say you were looking for an orrery?” He stood intentionally low, bringing his head closer to pony height. His white head feathers formed a crown-like crest on the back of his head and his yellow-orange eye-rings matched his spotted coat and lent a primal intensity to his otherwise friendly gaze. His pronounced Greiflander accent didn’t match his savanna look at all.

Though she had read about them, this was Sweetie’s first time seeing a Zebrabwean gryphon. At least, she assumed he was Zebrabwean. “Ya,” she answered, somewhat later than she would have preferred. “Do you know a good seller?”

“My sister,” he replied. “She deals in all manner of clockwork mechanisms, including orreries. Follow, she is this way.” He led them a short ways to a quieter part of the market and a line of vendors, mostly selling airship paraphernalia and navigation equipment. They stopped at a gypsy wagon which displayed a variety of wall clocks and standing orreries under its awning. “Allow me to introduce my sister, Rana,” he said with a grandiose gesture, enhanced further by his lengthy limbs, “meister of gears and keeper of time.”

“Shut up, Dinar.” The gryphon sitting by the wagon was similarly built and colored, and wore green tribal face paint. Sweetie recognized the pattern as being from one of the independent clans that refused to join the empire of Greif, but couldn’t place which one. “Welcome to Ragnar’s Clocks and Clockwork. Ignore Dinar, he’s the dumb one.”

Ditzy and Sweetie giggled as Dinar began to puff up. “Hey!” the unpainted gryphon exclaimed, flaring his impressively large wings and rising to his full height. “I just brought you customers! Plus I’m, like, ninety percent of your advertisement!”

“As only a party foul can be.” Rana smiled as her brother puffed his cheeks and stomped away in frustration, but paid him no further mind. “So how can I help you lovely ladies tonight?”

“I’m looking for a table orrery, something I can use for magick, but which won’t get in the way on a small airship.”

The gryphon pointed to a large wooden cabinet attached to the side of the wagon. “These are all we have ready at the moment, but we are happy to make custom pieces too. I don’t know much about unicorn magick, unfortunately, so I can’t really tell you what would be best suited for you.”

Through the cabinet’s ornate glass doors Sweetie could see a wide range of orreries, astrolabes, sextants and other celestial tracking apparati. She wasn’t quite sure what to look for either, but she figured she would know it when she found it.

“May I see this one on a table please?” Sweetie said, indicating one of the more robust looking orreries with a hoof.

“My pleasure,” the shopkeeper replied, opening the cabinet. “This design is based on the ones used by the Equestrian army’s unicorn artillery corps.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Sweetie Belle said. “Where are you from?”

Rana placed the orrery on the table with unnecessary care and sighed. “Silly me, thinking I could get through a whole day without that question.”

“Sorry,” Sweetie said quickly. “I didn’t mean to impose.”

“It’s fine,” Rana said, fidgeting aimlessly with the orrery. “Me and my brother were hatched by Vati Ragnar in Wachteltal. That’s about two days flight north from Greif, and a bit east.”

“That’s in one of the freeholds, right?” Ditzy interjected.

“Clan Jade Falcon, ya,” the gryphon confirmed. “Anyway, I don’t want to go into the details, but Vati found us as eggs and raised us. All we have from our real parents is our mother’s journal, which we can’t read because it’s not in Greifen or Equestrian.”

“You know,” Sweetie said, “there’s a pretty good chance I have a book, friend or connection that could translate that for you. Do you know what language it is?”

“A zebra I met a while ago said it looked like an offshoot of Okapia, but she wasn’t sure.” The gryphon turned and gave her customers a half-hearted smile. “Anyway, orreries?”

“Right,” Sweetie said, taking another look at the item on the table. “I’ll take this one. I think I want a pocket astrolabe too.”

“Hey, Sweetie Belle,” Ditzy called, “have a look at this.”

Sweetie found her looking at a display of unusual and novelty items. “Find something interesting, Ditzy?”

“Absolutely,” Ditzy replied enthusiastically, pointing to a hoof sized metal box. “Look at this. Each of these rings on the face are written in a different language. The text on the inner one is ancient Unicornian. I only recognize two of the symbols, pony and dragon, but it’s definitely Unicornian. The middle and outer ones, I think, are in thaumaturgical runes and pre-tribal pegasus leaf writing.”

While Ditzy chattered away like a university filly at her first dig, Sweetie examined the object. It was a curious contraption to be sure: three inscribed rings dominated the face of a hoof sized metal box, like a clock that tracked years instead of minutes. On the reverse it had several dials and a solitary inscription across the bottom. “An-ti-ky-ther-a.” She muttered, carefully shaping each sound.

Ditzy suddenly stopped her chattering. “You can read it?”

“Only this part,” Sweetie said, highlighting the inscription on the bottom with her magic. “It reads ‘Antikythera’ in Draconian. I think.”

Rana appeared beside Sweetie in a flutter and caught her in a piercing, orange rimmed, gaze. “Where did you learn to read this?”

Sweetie recoiled, the primal part of her brain recognized the gaze of a predator and begged her to run. “From... Twilight Sparkle?” It wasn’t meant as a question, but she didn’t care.

Rana took to the air with a quick flap. “Dinar, get over here!” she roared over the crowd before dropping back to the ground.

“They found that under the mountain with a bunch of other stuff, including a book,” Rana said excitedly. “We didn’t even know what language it was so we planted the stuff we found around the market hoping someone would recognize the writing. I guess it worked.”

Dinar hit the ground like a lightning bolt, wings raised and ready for a fight. “What? What happened?”

“She can read it, Dinar,” Rana said, her wings fluttering in excitement. “The thing from the vault. The unicorn can read it.”

Dinar’s posture changed from aggressive to excited in the blink of an eye. “The text on the back?”

“Yes,” Rana said, taking the device from the table and tossing it to her brother. “Eureka has the book this week. Take them to see if they can read that too.”

Denar grabbed a satchel from behind one of the wagon’s wheels and slung it around his neck. “Is she still under the arch?” he asked, placing the device in the bag.

“No, she moved west of stage four yesterday,” Rana replied, flicking a switch on the orrery which caused it to collapse in on itself.

“Got it,” Dinar acknowledged with a nod. “My dear ladies, this way please.”

Rana turned to Sweetie, offering her the collapsed orrery. “You can pay me later. I wanna know if you’re for real.”

The pace was quick, thanks to Denar’s long legs, and the path was relatively easy. They found their goal quickly: a large, blue pavilion tent the size of a small house. It was set up in a sparse portion of the market, somewhat distanced from the ruckus of crowds and music. An A-frame sign out front showed an image of a dark blue bird and an open book.

“This is it, ladies. Stellar Scriptures,” Denar announced, ducking through the entrance.

Inside the tent drifting fairy motes unevenly illuminated dozens of bookshelves, arranged in a Solar Radiance pattern; shelves radiating out from a central sitting area much farther than the size of the tent would suggest.

Reclining on a cushion in the middle of the lounge was a candy mained periwinkle unicorn, reading two books at once and taking notes on a pad of paper. She glanced up from her reading as they entered. “Dinar,” she said with a smile. “How lovely to see you.” She noted the page numbers before putting her books down and standing to greet her guests.

Dinar pulled the device from his bag and tossed it to her, grinning. “Eureka, they can read it.”

The unicorn caught it in her magick and scowled at Dinar. “How many times must I tell you not to throw...” She blinked. “Did you say they can read it?”

The gryphon nodded. “The inscription on the back. The one we couldn’t identify.”

Eureka quickly rearranged the cushions in the sitting area into four seats facing a conspicuously large pile. “I’ll be right back with the book.” She said before scampering away through the shelves and out of sight.

Dinar gestured to the cushions and smiled. “ladies?”

“Thank you,” Ditzy said, claiming one of the outer seats for herself. “You know, your sister should really give you more credit. You’re a consummate gentle sir at the very least.”

“And you, madam, are one of the brightest minds of your generation, if I’m not mistaken?” Dinar smirked, to what little degree one can smirk with a beak, and took the cushion beside her.

Sweetie could barely contain her giggling as Ditzy blushed and hid her face under a wing.

Dinar lifted her chin with a finger. “And, I might add, an inspiration to many a wandering bard, such as myself.”

“I swear to Twilight, Dinar. If I catch you flirting with any more of my customers I’m gonna start charging you admission.” All eyes turned to Eureka, then to the dog who followed behind her, and the enormous book he carried.

Ditzy and Sweetie were at a loss for words. The book was massive, as tall as an average mare, if not taller, but still proportioned like any normal sized dictionary. The reddish brown cover had a pattern reminiscent of reptilian scales but was otherwise featureless. There was no title to be seen.

Dinar leaped to his feet to help the dog move his burden to the mound of pillows the seats were facing. “You’re just jealous,” he quipped.

Eureka bristled. “Thank you Dinar, please put the book over there. Gently.” she took a seat by Ditzy and offered her a sympathetic smile. “If you need me to smack some sense into him just let me know.”

“Oh its fine,” Ditzy said, waving a wing dismissively. “So, giant book?”

Sweetie walked up to the book as Dinar helped the dog prop it up on the mound of pillows and ran her hoof across the cover. “Ditzy,” she said, “do you know of any historical groups who bound books in dragon skin?”

All eyes turned to her. “I thought dragon skin was supposed to be super hard,” Dinar said.

“It’s very tough,” Sweetie agreed, opening the book to the first page. “But if it’s properly cared for it’s still pretty soft... What?” She looked around at the disbelieving faces of what had become her audience. “I used to date one, okay? I know what it feels like.” Looking back to the book she examined the page in her hooves. It was a light beige, and not quite even in tone. “Dinar,” she said, “does this feel like parchment to you?”

Dinar ran the page between his fingers and hummed to himself. “Ya,” he said at length. “It’s not sheep, nor goat.” He looked at Sweetie for a moment, clearly thinking, then ran his fingers across her shoulder. “I think its... pony,” he said cautiously.

The ponies in the room squirmed and made a variety of displeased noises. The Diamond Dog seemed the least affected. “What’s at say?” he asked, pointing to an inscription on the second page.

The letters were, as expected, huge. Written to scale with the massive book. “Leiber Draconum,” Sweetie read slowly, her pronunciation caifull, “per Antikythera.” She looked back at the others with a wide grin. “The Book of Dragons by Antikythera. Antikythera is the name of the dragon who wrote this and, presumably, made that device. That’s why it didn’t look anything like any of the words I do know.”

“Turn the page please, Harvy,” Eureka said. “Let’s see what this dragon had to say.”

Sweetie Belle and Dinar took their seats and Sweetie began to read. “Prohoemium,” she read. “Well this is off to a rocky start, I’m not too sure about that one… Oh! Eureka do you have a copy of Auspex Encephalon?”

“Never heard of it,” she replied. “Who’s the author?”

“D’ür Rägnifa,” Sweetie answered.

“That’s a strange name.” A pulse of midnight blue magic spread from Eureka’s horn across the book shelves, leaving a brief sparkle on each book before dissipating. “I don’t have it here,” she said with no small amount of disappointment. She stood and made for the door. “I’ll see if anypony around the market has one.”

“Thanks,” Sweetie called before turning back to the book. “Let’s see what we can decipher in the meantime.”

*******

“Welcome, fair Apple Bloom,” Dinky said dramatically from her perch on Apple Bloom’s back with a theatrical wave across the assembly of wooden buildings before them, “to The Grand Bazaar.”

The Grand Bazaar was, indeed, grand. The arching cave mouth was big in that vertigo inducing way that defied measurement, and the floor was wall to wall with buildings. The entire upper third was carved in an intricate mural, nearly a fathom deep in some places, that looked like the product of a rock warper’s fever dream.

The carvings at the cave’s mouth depicted ponies emerging from hills, clouds and stars and rushing into the sea, or maybe at it. Further in, ponies clad in armor were depicted doing battle against twisted, nightmarish horrors.

“Land sakes,” Apple Bloom muttered.

“Pretty cool, huh.” Dinky rested her chin on Apple Bloom’s head. “Nopony knows who made it; it just kinda appeared one night. I’ve heard some ponies think it’s some kind of prophecy.”

“Ah sure hope not,”Apple Bloom mused. “That’s an awful lot of violence.”

“Apple Bloom, you’re a pirate,” Dinky remarked, swatting playfully at Apple Bloom’s bow.

“That was Sweetie Belle’s idea,” Apple Bloom said defensively. “She’s a sweetheart, to be sure, but she can be a real firecracker too.”

“Dinky!” a young voice pulled their attention away from the ceiling. A green colt, blank flanked and red caped, came barreling around a market stall and nearly ran headlong into Apple Bloom’s leg. “Aunty Dinky, Dad’s been waiting for you!” the colt said, bouncing in place. “He got some stuff from National Fabrications and he wants you to help test it out! Common!” He didn’t even wait for a reply before darting off through the stalls.

Dinky jumped off Apple Bloom’s back and ran after the colt. “Move your hooves!” she called over her shoulder. The moment she rounded the corner, however, she was jumped by three colts who easily drove her to the ground in a ball of dust, capes and tickling.

Apple Bloom smiled as she approached. The scene played out in much the same way it had when she was a filly bugging the grownups back home with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. They even had the same capes.

“Enough!” Dinky laughed. “Let me up!” With a pulse of golden magick the colts floated into the air.

“Hay, no fair!” One of the kids, a blue unicorn, pouted. The green one just giggled as he bumped into a nearby stall. The red one, a pegasus, buzzed the little wings that had been hiding under his cape, using Dinky’s levitation field to fly around in a happy little circle.

Dink regained her hooves and dusted herself off a bit. “Apple Bloom, I’d like to introduce Lock,” the unicorn smiled brightly, then returned to pouting at Dinky, “Stock,” the earth pony waved and pointed at his face, “and Barrel.” The pegasus struck a heroic pose and performed an erratic little loop, “The Action Brothers.”

Apple Bloom laughed. “Pleasure to make your acquaintances.”

Dinky released her magick and they dropped to the ground with a collective yelp, Barrel only slightly slower than his brothers. “Alright, boys. Let’s go see your dad.”

Following the shorty parade through the market made Apple Bloom feel like a mamma hen herding her chicks. A feeling she found she actually fancied a bit more than she thought she would.

Now that she was passed the initial awe of the magnificent carving across the top of the cavern, Apple Bloom was able to get a better look at the market. The stalls were mostly wood, giving more of a feeling of permanence than the canvas metropolis that dominated the land outside the cave.

The sounds of a forge and foundry drifted up from the depths with a distinctive rhythm reminiscent of the garbage band that was playing outside. The smell of molten metal and pulverized stone wafted through the air.

The hustle and bustle was still present, but to a lesser degree. Clothing, mostly protective working gear and styles from Detrot and Manehatten, was quite prominent, lending to the impression of a worker’s market. Broun vested pegasi with flat caps crisscrossed above, all with carts or bags of some sort.

“Hay, Dinky,” Apple Bloom said. “All them pegasi work for the mines?”

“Couriers for hire,” Dinky replied.

“Like if you buy more stuff than you can carry,” Lock quickly interjected.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Apple Bloom said. She stopped and fished a list out of her saddlebag. “Ah got a bunch of supplies I gotta get for the ship.”

Barrel flutter-scrambled up onto Apple Bloom's back and looked over her shoulder at the list. “You can get most of that stuff from Antimony’s place,” he said. “But you’ll wanna get the gears and stuff from Ragnar’s. Dad has the ammo though.”

“Lemme see,” Stock said, propping himself up against Apple Bloom’s free leg to get a better look at the list. After a moment’s consideration he called his other brother over. “Lock you get the stuff from Ragnar; I’m not allowed there anymore. I’ll go to Annie’s. I’m gonna need... about four hundred bits, and Lock needs, like eighty or ninety I think.”

“You've got a pretty good head on you, haven’t you?” Apple Bloom commented.

Stock stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry at the ground. “Dad makes me do all the accounting.”

Apple Bloom laughed and tore her list into three neat pieces. “Sounds like a good’n, your pa.” She nosed her saddlebag open and fished out an inkpen to fixed the lists with the help of the colts, sending them on there way after a recount of the prices plus a few bits for the couriers.

“What about you, Barrel?” Dinky asked. “What are you gonna help us with?”

“Ammo,” Barrel replied with a grin.

Dinky lead the way through the market, an eagerness to reach her destination evident in her quick steps. There were loads of interesting shops and stalls along the way, but they passed by each one without slowing. Quite a few ponies (and several others) greeted Dinky by name as they passed, some asking about her mother, more about her gun.

Eventually, rather quickly in fact, they reached their destination: a small stand built into the front of a house sized building. On closer examination it may have actually been a house with a working porch.

“Dinky! You got my letter!” The stallion at the stall was an earthy brown with a short, cinnamon swirl mane. If not for the excitedly fluttering wings on his back Apple Bloom would have thought he was an earth pony.

“Of course I did,” Dinky said, giving him a quick hug over the counter. “Nopony can escape the Equestrian mail service.”

She gestured to Apple Bloom. “Doubble, this is Apple Bloom.” Then to the brown stallion. “Apple Bloom, Double Action.”

So that’s why they’re called the Action Brothers. “Pleasure to meet ya.”

“Likewise,” Double replied with a smile. “Barrel, down.”

“But, dad, she’s super comfy,” the little pegasus complained, hiding in Apple Bloom’s mane.

Apple Bloom chuckled. “That’s gotta be the first time Ah been called comfy.”

Double Action glared at his son for a few seconds before giving up and turning back to Dinky. “Anyways, here it is,” he said, producing a brass and wood object a bit larger than saddle and placing it gently on the counter “The National Fabrications Earth Pony Canister Rifle prototype, revision nine zero. It’s the first all Equestrian made small arm and the first firearm built specifically for earth ponies.”

“Spiffy,” Dinky said with a smirk, propping herself up on the counter.

“Let’s start with the big stuff,” Double Action said, guiding dinky through the operation of the weapon. “You have to be on your back two to use it. The back goes against your shoulder for support; remember, its designed for earth ponies so no magick. One hoof goes in this hook in the front and the other goes in the loop behind it. That paddle is the trigger, it’s literally just an enlargement of a gryphon style trigger.”

Dinky did as instructed, leaning against the stall for support so she could focus on the weapon. “This is surprisingly comfortable,” she commented, examining the weapon in her hooves. “Where’s the ammo supply? I don’t see any kind of cylinder or belt feed.”

“A belt can only be so long before it’s too heavy to be practical and cylinders are... challenging with mouth and tongue, so they developed a detachable magazine system. With the lack of dexterity, compared to unicorns or gryphons, it was the best solution.”

“Oh, and that goes in this cutout on top, right?”

“Ya. It’s actually really clever. The magazine lays flat on top, completing the rectangular profile and staying out of the way. The ammunition is held sideways in the magazine, but rotates ninety degrees as it gets fed into the chamber.”

“Uh, Ah’m just gonna go try and figure out what you and Scoots said you wanted.” Apple Bloom said as she shuffled awkwardly towards the ammo counter.

“Me too!” Barrel called from her back.

“Alright, let’s see if Ah can figure this out,” Apple Bloom muttered, looking between her list and the shelves of ammunition.

“What can’tcha figure out?” Barrel asked, looking around Apple Bloom’s neck at the paper on her hoof.

“What? Oh, Ah just don’t know too much ‘bout guns n’ stuff,” Apple Bloom said, glancing over at Dinky. “Ah mean, Ah know what eight point eight horn fligger flakker whatever looks like.”

“Flugzeugabwehrkanone?” Barrel provided.

“Uh, ya, that. But Ah can’t remember what seven point nine two mil machn’ skewer-”

“Maschinengewehr.”

“Ya. You’re pretty good with that squawk talk ain’tcha?” Apple Bloom said, Turning her attention to her latest passenger.

Barel puffed up proudly. “Can’t sell guns if you can’t speak Greifn,” he said, buzzing over to the counter in a controlled crash. “Plus I loaded, like, half of these.”

Apple Bloom laughed. “Ah feel like a zebra in the Crystal Empire. Why don’t you do my shoppin’ for me so Ah don’t mess it up.”

*******

“Come on, Annie! It’s not a pirate hat if it’s not stolen!” The green crusader wined.

“And it’s not stealing if you pay for it and ask permission before hoof,” the lanky grey proprietress of Antimony’s Metalworks explained. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

“Fine,” Stock grumbled, adding the black, woolen tricorner hat to his cart.

“Why do you need an oversized ‘pirate hat’ anyway?” Antimony asked, totaling up the cost of her little friend’s unusual shopping spree.

“Dinky Doo Has a new friend who’s a giant and a pirate,” Stock answered excitedly. “She might even be half horse!”

Antimony chuckled. “Sure.”

*******

“Simmering Sun Butt, this thing kicks hard,” Dinky remarked, rubbing the shoulder she had been bracing the canister rifle against.

“Ya, thats what no magick shooting feels like, Dinks,” Double said. “Finish out that magazine and I’ll show you how to reload.”

Dinky brought the weapon back to her shoulder and fired at the steel plate on the sand pile again. “How many rounds does it hold?”

“Seventeen.”

Dinky fired again. “Tell me about the ammo. You said they’re testing several different loads?”

“Not much to say about it.” Double action paused when Dinky took another shot. “Brass can, pouder on the bottom, projectiles wrapped in paper, wax on top to seal it in.” Another shot. “You’re using the flechette rounds right now. The other things they sent me are solid slugs, which kick even harder by the way,” another, “round shot, which is basically useless if you ask me,” two more in rapid succession, which caused another jam, “incendiary, Which is exactly what it sounds like. They only sent me fifty of those and I shot them already.”

Dinky fiddled with the weapon, trying to clear the chamber without using magick. Gotta be authentic right? “Donkeys on unicycles this thing jams a lot,” she grumbled. Eventually she managed to clear the jam. It was the last in the magazine. “Now how do I reload?”

“Donkeys on unicycles,” Double Action snickered. “Uh, use your teeth to push the tabs on either side of the magazine back, then bite the mag and pull it up,” he instructed, pointing out the small levers on the sides of the weapon. “Good. Easy isn't it? Best place I’ve found for the extra mags is your off shoulder. Here I’ll hold it for you." Double held a full magazine against Dinky’s shoulder with his wing and Dinky grabbed it with her mouth. "Now put the end under that tab and give the top a thump.”

Dinky slid the magazine into place and thumped it with her nose, producing an audible click from the magazine retention latch. “Still a little awkward, but you’re right about it being easier than the alternatives,” she said before returning to her persecution of the innocent steel plate.

Back by the stall two pegasi, one yellow and one dusty black, wearing tweed vests and flat caps descended with flatbed trolleys in tow. “I’ve got a delivery for-”

Lock leaped from one of the carts, brimming with enthusiasm. “Hey, Apple... uh... Name.” He blushed at his error but pressed on. "We got all that stuff you needed."

“Why thank you kindly, Action Name,” Apple Bloom replied.

Stock leaped from the other cart and vaulted off of the head of the pony pulling it. “Pirate hat!” he shouted, slapping a black woolen tricorner hat on Apple Bloom’s head before bouncing off her chest and landing on his back.

Apple Bloom laughed and helped him to his hooves. “You okay there, partner?”

“Ya, I’m good,” Stock said, coughing a little as air refilled his lungs.

“Sorry for the wait, fellas. I’ll be with Y’all in a sec,” Apple Bloom said to the porters.

“No worries, ma’am. We’re used to waiting for the kids.”

She turned back to the counter. “Hay, Barrel, you got everything on that list?”

“Ya, you want it in a cart?” Barrel said, popping out from behind some shelving. He snickered. “Nice hat.”

“Thank ya kindly.” Apple Bloom gave a polite nod. “If y’all could get my stuff up to the, uh, up to Rarity’s ship, I’ll get you some ice cream or some such after. How’s that sound?”

“Awesome!” The tree colts cried in unison. They got to organizing the ammunition and loading it into the carts with gusto, and an appropriate degree of caution for the ammo.

“Wow,” one of the porters said with a chuckle, “I haven’t seen them this enthusiastic about work since the last time sompony offered them icecream.”

“Speak of Discord,” his partner cut in, bumping him with a wing. “Hey, Pinkie!” he hollered, waving a hoof.

The pink party paragon pronked towards them, her everlasting smile shining as brightly as ever. “Hiya, Lowrider, Coal Train. Oh my gosh, Apple Bloom! I haven’t seen you in ages! Hi!” She landed in a hug, nuzzling Apple Bloom affectionately.

Apple Bloom leaned into the hug and hummed contently. “Like a little slice of home,” she said, returning the hug and nuzzles eagerly. Eventually the greeting ended. “I can’t tell you how much I needed that.”

“Don't worry, Apple Bloom. She’ll be fine.”

Apple Bloom closed her eyes and sighed. “Ah know, but thanks.”

When she opened her eyes again another pony had appeared. A rather familiar pony. “Oh, uh, hey Applejack.” She tried to smile but it was obviously forced.

The sisters hadn’t seen eye to eye for years. Applejack hadn’t approved of Apple Bloom using her talent to build a stunt plane for Scootaloo instead of using that time to work on the farm. She hadn’t approved at all when Apple Bloom took a job building, and then working at, the Ponyville airfield. In fact, the last ‘conversation’ they’d had was a shouting match just before she left with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo on the Riggin-boat Flizer, or whatever it’s called.

Applejack looked as uneasy as Apple Bloom felt. “Howdy,” she said at last.

“how’ve you been?.”

“Fine.”

Apple Bloom shuffled her hooves awkwardly. “How are things on the farm?”

“Fine.”

The Action brothers quietly sent the porters on their way and hid behind the counter as Pinkie’s smile started to get a ‘you’re gonna be friends or I’ll lock you in a closet together’ kind of quality.

“How... are the kids?” The awkward smiles were starting to strain Apple Bloom’s cheeks.

“They’re doing fine.” Applejack’s mouth twitched into a ghost of a smile at the mention of her foals. “Had two more since we last, uh, talked.”

“Congratulations!” Apple Bloom’s smile became a little easier to maintain, she was starting to get through to her sister. “That’d make five, right? What’re their names?”

“Thank ya. Soarin named the first one Apple Jamboree and Ah named the other Candy Apple.” Applejack’s small smile stayed a little longer this time, familial pride lightening the weight of the sour memories. “Both earth ponies this time.”

Apple Bloom glanced around nervously, trying to think of something more to say. After a long, awkward silence her brain finally threw her a bone. “By my reckoning there should be a reunion coming up this summer, right?”

“Yup.” Applejack confirmed mechanically.

Apple Bloom dug at the ground. Back to square one. “And... Ah’m invited, right?” She asked hesitantly. She didn't want to offend her sister, but she wasn’t sure if Applejack was still sore at her about leaving the farm.

Applejack’s eyes widened and she opened and closed her mouth, trying to form words that just wouldn’t come. “Of course ya are, Apple Bloom!” she said at last, grabbing Apple Bloom in a tight hug. “Of course ya are. You're my one and only little sister in the whole wide world. What in Equestria would make you think you weren’t invited?”

Apple Bloom returned the hug and smiled. “You know how Ah worry, Sis. Ah jus wanted to be sure after... what happened.”

Applejack released the hug and held Apple Bloom’s shoulders. She had tears in her eyes. “You done some darn fool things, to be sure, but there ain’t nothin gonna make you any less an Apple, ya hear? We’re Apples to the core, and don’t you forget it.”

“Thanks, Applejack.” Apple Bloom hugged her sister again, years of fear and worry finally began to fade. “You’re the best sister a pony could ever-” She broke from the hug suddenly. Something felt deeply wrong in the earth.

“You feel that too?” Applejack asked, looking towards the cave mouth.

Dinky’s voice stole their attention. "A fow comes calling!" she shouted, grinning. A field of golden magick spread from her horn, abducting several horngrenades, a couple swords and four large tubes that Apple Bloom couldn’t identify. “Guh, I need to stop reading so much poetry.”

“Dinky, put this on!” Double Action said, throwing an army green harness to Dinky before pulling a crate of canister rifle magazines from behind the counter and hauling it to the ammo counter.

Lock and Stock rushed to Dinky’s side and helped her into the harness, guiding it over her horn and adjusting the straps to get the fit just right. Barrel, meanwhile, was busy speed loading the magazines his dad had given him.

“What’s coming?” Lock asked nervously, straping one of the swards to Dinky’s hind leg.

“Something old and something angry,” Dinky answered, strapping ammo pouches to the harness and filing them with the magazines Barrel had loaded.

Double action flapped over to Dinky and strapped the canister rifle to the harness. “If you assist the bolt and the magazine with your magick you should be able to prevent most of the jams. How much ammo do you think you can carry?”

“Load me up," Apple Bloom cut in. "Ah’ll carry all the ammo you got.”

“Roger that,” Doubble said with a grin. “Boys, get the sixteen can harness!”

The brothers fetched the larger harness, also drab green, from behind the ammunition counter and strapped Apple bloom in. The two hundred fifty round ammo cans locked securely into the metal clamps arranged two by four along her sides and there was still enough space for Dinky’s legs in front of them when she jumped onto Apple Bloom’s back.

“Dinky,” Double action said, hovering beside them, “you can keep one in the chamber when you reload so you don't have to charge it again. It's made for earth pony shock troops and cataphracts, so don't be afraid to bash some heads.”

“Apple Bloom,” Applejack said, giving her sister a brief hug, “You’re not invited to the reunion if you’re dead, ya hear?”

“Don’t worry, Sis,” Apple Bloom said, pulling her new tricorn to sit more aggressively on her head. “Ah’m a pirate.”

From Apple Bloom’s back Dinky cocked the experimental weapon, fire building in her eyes. “Let’s ride!” And they were of like a shot, leaving broken earth and a cloud of dust in their wake.

*******

Icy wind ruffled sandy feathers. The Zwielicht Funkeln drifted south. Twilight stood on the flight deck, staring at the starlit horizon.

“Do you really think it was the Sturmgeist?” Twilight Sparkle’s royal consort, Flash Sentry, pulled his Sokolsky rogatywka tighter to keep it from being blown off his head.

“I don’t know, Flash, but we’re going to find out.” Twilight took a few steps toward the ramp leading down into the ship but abruptly stopped.

Help me!

“Did you hear that?” Twilight asked, searching the eastern horizon.

“Hear what?” Flash followed her gaze, but saw nothing of note. They stood in silence for a long time, staring at the starlit horizon, until a tiny flash caught his attention. “Twi! Signal flare!” he said, grabbing Twilight with a wing and guided her eyes with an outstretched foreleg.

“A flair? Oh, I see it! Isn’t that Pinkie’s place?” The flair was soon joined by two more, just above it. The pattern was an urgent request for military aid, and it was over one of the largest, most well equipped militias in Equestria. “Flash, range!”

“Three leagues and change!” he replied, bracing for the inevitable teleportation.

Author's Note:

Sorry this took so long. Life and stuff. I'll try to get the next one out faster.

Comments

[Tsuguri]

Nice to see this is still alive and kicking, though I'm one to talk with over a year between updates now. Might have to go back and reread some more of the prior chapters to help refresh myself on your lore, but that really isn't an issue with a good story. Looking forward to seeing what this whole attack is about, seeing everyone come together to get the main plot moving again, and kicking some plot doing it.

Also, who the hell am I first on this chapter? Did everyone else take a vacation when you posted this? True, I'm more of a lurker myself, but I'll usually at least drop something on interesting chapters.

[alt-tap]

6047460 Ya, its actually pretty embarrassing that this took me so long. (It's mostly Sweetie Belle's fault.)
I'm excited to be finishing the character establishment arc though. The next chapters will be fun. (For me at least.) I really wrote this to get more "high-flying adventure" type stuff to read. (Also, I really want to write more Scootaloo. She's my fave.)

As for you being first, I did post this the day before Everfree NW soooo........