Flight 19 disappears and has no idea where they are.
Flight 19, one of the many disappearances over the Bermuda Triangle. But maybe they didn't just disappear? Maybe they went somewhere else? The Bermuda Triangle is a very strange place, full of unknowns and horrible tales. This is the tale of Flight 19.
Note: This is a collaberation between GoldenArbiter and myself. We will add the main cast as we progress through the story. Thank you everyone and please, enjoy. Cover Art by the very talented Athanix.
Note the second; By GA. We have also Added Dave Morris to the cast of writers, and he has added much already. So yah, it's okay, when it's in a three way.
Authors note: This is a collaberation between myself and Goldenarbiter. Now please, everyone enjoy!
Prologue: Takeoff
The sun shone brightly over Fort Lauderdale as the crew of Flight 19 were preparing for takeoff. Well, mostly preparing. Takeoff was scheduled for 13:45 and thirteen of the fourteen pilots were sitting were sitting in the briefing room as the clock ticked to 13:50. Their squadron leader had yet to show up and the fifteenth man had special permission not to fly today. Aviation Ordinance Man Third Class George Devlin , one of the instructors, was the first to speak, “Typical Taylor, he’s always late. Remember this rookies, he’s always late and he loves to fly by the seat of his pants...”
The door swung open and Lieutenant Charles C. Taylor walked in. “Yes I do, George. That’s how you log over three thousand flight hours. Now, lets go. You all know the drill, Navigation problem No. 1.”
The flight was nothing but a routine navigation and combat training exercise. The assignment was called “Navigation problem No. 1”, a combination of bombing and navigation. Throughout the day, several of these flights had taken place, and Flight 19 was the last to fly. The pilots lugged themselves out of the room and out onto the tarmac. Lined up in a slanted rows lay the pilots' planes. Four TBM-1C torpedo bombers and one TBM-3 torpedo bomber, the latter being Taylor’s plane. The only difference being that the TBM-3 was able to sustain a slightly longer flight. Each aircraft was fully fueled, and during pre-flight checks it was discovered they were all missing clocks. Navigation of the route was intended to teach dead reckoning principles, which involved calculating, among other things, elapsed time. The apparent lack of timekeeping equipment was not a cause for concern as it was assumed each man had his own watch.
Taylor’s voice rattled to life over the radio, “Alright rookies, start up your engines.” a chorus of stuttering then roaring engines was the reply. “Control, this is Flight 19, requesting permission for takeoff.”
“Roger Flight 19, this is Tower, the strip is yours. Have a nice flight,” droned a dull voice.
“Thank you Tower, have a nice day. Alright, Gerber? Take us out, you’re flight lead,” commanded Taylor.
“Yes sir,” came a voice. The lead plane's propeller began to speed up, dragging the fuselage behind it. The plane and its followers quickly rolled out onto the airstrip and accelerated, hastily heading down the runway. Engineers stood on the side of the strip, waving at the departing aircraft. The planes parted from the concrete and pulled into formation above the rolling ocean.
“Flight 19, you are clear, see you when you get back.”
“Thanks ground. Gerber, set course for zero-niner-one and proceed 73 nautical miles, you have the lead. Take us through the routine nice and clean so we can get back home,” said Taylor, loosing his grip on his control somewhat. So far so good.
“Roger that, Lieutenant. I have the lead. Accelerating to 300 kph and holding. ETA till target, eleven minutes.” Gerber’s voice could be heard over the radio. There was a small break before it started back up again. “With the wind at our back, we could even save some gas, speaking of, Lieutenant, how come they gave us so much gas? I mean, two wing tanks in addition to our main tank? Seems a bit excessive, don’t ya think?”
“Dunno Gerber, not my problem. They want to give us gas in case we get lost probably. So don’t get lost. I don’t want someone barking down my neck over wasted gas.” Taylor replied lazily.
“Yes sir. Two minutes to target,” Gerber sounded again. The two minutes clocked away in silence. “Sir, we are above the target.”
“Roger, Flight 19, drop to bombing altitude, safeties off... bombs away,” Taylor said, still rather nonchalantly. As the planes dropped their bombs, they pulled away. “Bombing run complete, nice work everyone. Gerber, turn to heading three-four-six and go seventy-six nautical miles again. Mark.”
“Yes Sir, changing heading,” Gerber replied. “Wind’s getting pretty bad Lieutenant. At least the sky is clear.”
Taylor rolled his eyes, annoyed. “Yes, good thing indeed...” The second leg of the flight went on rather silently to Taylor’s relief. That was until a concerned voice came on the radio.
“Uh, Lieutenant, I think we’re lost.” Gerber’s voice sounded shaken.
Taylor’s grip tightened around the control stick when he heard this. “Son, what do you mean... lost?”
“Like I think my heading was off. My compass is out of control, its spinning like crazy.”
“Erm... okay, uh, Powers, give me your reading,” Taylor said calmly.
“I’ve got the same thing here Lieutenant. Spinning like a drunk man on St. Patties day,” came a voice.
“Not the time for that, pilot. Can anyone get me a reading?” Taylor asked, slightly getting unnerved. No one replied, and his compass had begun spinning as well. He shook his head in frustration. He angled his plane slightly and looked down below. Beneath him was a series of Islands. “I think we are above the Keys...”
“How the hell did we end up here?” Someone asked.
“Dunno, but if we fly north we can find home, any objections? No? Good, put the sun towards your starboard side and fly straight. We should hit the mainland soon, we'll fly up over the Gulf of Mexico and go home,” Taylor said, confidence flowing back into him. He had a plan again.
After about an hour of flying, though, that confidence began to drift away again. “We should have hit the mainland by now. All planes close up tight... we'll have to ditch unless landfall... when the first plane drops below 10 gallons, we all go down together, and where the hell are these clouds coming from?” He glanced out towards the sun, it was beginning to set. “Pilots we—”
“Sir, what the hell is that?!” Shouted the gunner in his plane. He looked forward and a bright light was approaching the planes.
Staff Sergeant Howell O. Thompson blinked.
What just happened? And where did all of these clouds come from?
“Hey Howell, you okay there?” Thompson realized someone was asking him a question. “Howy, wake up man!”
“George? What... What happened?”
“I don’t know How. But whatever it was, it knocked out our radio," commented Sergeant George R. Paonessa
“Shit. Why is the plane spinning?”
“Because you hit your head when we hit some turbulence. We really need to toughen you up.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Captain E. J. Powers gasping in disbelief. “What the...”
“What’s up Cap’?” George said as he looked over to the cockpit for a better view. A second gasp met Howell’s ears. Curiosity perked, Howell turned from his gunner's position to see what looked to be an explosion in front of their aircraft. “Jesus Almighty, is that flak? The hell!? We are over friendly ground and the war is over!” There was a lingering light that could be seen faintly through the clouds. As a second explosion appeared much closer to them, Captain Powers started to take evasive maneuvers to avoid being hit.
Howell could barely see fifteen feet in front of him. He had no idea how the Captain was going to avoid crashing into the other Avengers. “Wait, isn’t that a mou —” Howell was cut off as the right most wing was torn violently from the aircraft as they passed by a mountain.
“We’re hit!” The Captain yelled, “Mayday! Mayday! This is FT-36, we’re going down!
Howell couldn’t entirely comprehend the situation as his vision slowly receded. Wasn’t there a wing there a minute ago? There was a noise that Howell thought vaguely resembled speech. Howell's vision continued to black out as all of the blood from his body was forced into places it shouldn’t have been from extreme G-forces.
Why is the plane spinning?
Twilight sat on her patio, staring through her telescope. The clouds were blocking her vision, however, and she became flustered. "Gah! Why did the Pegasi forget to clear the skies tonight!? I wanted to look at the stars!" She smacked the telescope with her hoof and it spun on its pedestal. She let out a sigh and looked back up into the sky. Clouds were thick as ever, blocking her beautiful night. It was then she saw a flashing light in the sky. She blinked and looked again. She still saw it. Flashing red and green lights soared far off in the distance. Twilight angled her telescope towards the lights and peered through. She couldn't see much through the clouds, but she counted a total of five green lights and five red lights that would flash in unison. Twilight sat in deep thought, contemplating what she saw. "Spike, come here and have a look at this would you?"
"What is it Twilight?" Spike asked.
"I don't know, there's flashing lights in the sky and I don't know what they are!" Twilight grunted frustratingly.
"Twi, if you don't know what they are, how would I?" Spike replied lazily. "Besides I'm in bed!"
"Just come look would you!" Twilight raised her voice slightly.
"Fine, fine," Spike grumbled. He slowly drew himself from his bed and laundered over slowly before peering down into the telescope. "Twi, I don't see anything."
"What do you mean? The lights were there a moment ago!" Twilight was very confused. She looked back out into the night sky and to her surprise, the lights had moved somewhat. She angled the telescope accordingly and told Spike to look again.
"Oh, I see now... Yeah, I don't know what they are. Can I go back to bed now?" He asked, stifling a yawn. He was looking out at the sky with sleepy eyes when the small lights erupted into a giant fireball. "Whoa!" He quickly stared through the telescope again before another explosion blossomed through the clouds. "Look Twilight!"
Authors' Note: Would just like everyone to know that GA is from Canada so you might notice a slight divergence of the English language from the first chapter. Anyways, enjoy everyone!
Captain George Stivers awoke from his less than graceful landing in field under the mountain. He opened his eyes and immediately shut them again as they were barraged with light. Oh God, what did I do to spite you?
He chuckled humorlessly as he opened his eyes again, this time forcing them to stay open. The nose of his aircraft was mostly buried in the dirt, but the glass of his cockpit was still intact. He looked to his left and saw the mountain looming over a field of what should have been a great expanse of ocean, but was instead grass. To his right was the start of a coniferous forest.
Stivers looked behind himself to find his crew -Rob Gruebel and Robert Gallivan- Unconscious. Opening the cockpit he continued to observe his surroundings. Near the edge of the mountain, a great billowing smoky mass jutted from the ground. It was the plane he followed in, piloted by Captain Powers. No way anyone survived that wreck. What happened?
As he leapt from his seat at the helm, he noticed the tail of his avenger had come off and was now lying some twenty feet behind them. That might not buff out... At least we made it though.
The sound of someone coughing shook him from his thoughts. Searching around to find the source, suspecting it was one of his men, revealed it to be Lieutenant Taylor, emerging from his plane, fire extinguisher in hand. The plane itself seemed to have made a fine landing, but the crew compartment was alive in flames. Taylor was doing his best to put them out.
Realizing the gravity of the situation, Stivers grabbed his own fire extinguisher from under his seat and made a dash to help Taylor rescue the pilots within. “Shit, I’m coming Taylor!” Stivers yelled, panicking at the sight. The inferno was still eating at the interior of the plane when Stivers arrived, so he put his extinguisher to use, the off white powder coating everything inside the ship, doing its best to suffocate the fire.
As Taylor’s extinguisher ran out, he reached into the compartment and grabbed both Devlin and Parpart, hauling them out of the craft. From Stivers' position on the opposite side of he aircraft, he couldn’t see their condition, so he kept on the fire.
After what seemed like an eternity of anticipation, the fire was out, and Taylor was distraught. Both of the men from his plane were dead. Third degree burns covered most of their body, and their clothes were covered in the sticky white substance produced from the powder mixing with the oxygen.
The sight gave Stivers mixed emotions; sure he didn’t know the men that well, but they were still good people. “Shit. What happened?”
Taylor gave a resigned sigh and stood from his gruesome duty. “There was a fire, as you can see. I think some of that lightning caused the electronic stuff to malfunction.”
“Lighting? I didn’t see any lightning. What the hell happened here?”
“I don’t know Stivers. I saw some explosions, and I followed you in. There was too much cloud cover to see anything else.”
“Where’s 81 and 3? You think they made it through?”
Taylor’s expression was answer enough for Stivers. “Whatever it was that forced us down, probably took them too. How’s your crew?”
“Alive. Speaking of which, we should check on Powers’ bird. See if...” Stivers knew no one was walking away from that crash. Nose first into anything going at highway speeds was bad enough, let alone three times that.
“Stivers, I know what you’re thinking, and it wasn’t your fault.”
“I know it ain’t my fault. I’ve seen death enough before to know that.”
“Okay, just saying. I mean, dying because of a crash is nothing like dying to a bullet wound.”
“Taylor, death is death. Doesn’t matter how. Now let’s go see if we can stop anyone else from dying.” Stivers grabbed the fire extinguisher and started at a jog for the crashed plane, hoping against hope that someone in the crew made it.
The crashed plane’s canopy was entirely shattered and the front half of the plane was doing it’s best impression of a pancake. Both of the wings had snapped at the planes body
As they approached the burning wreck, Stivers started hitting the fire where he could with what was left of his fire extinguisher. Taylor’s voice made him pause in his fire fighting efforts however. “Holy shit Stivers, Thompson is alive!”
Stivers did a double take, thinking it was impossible to live from something like this. He ran to Taylor's position, seeing a still breathing Thompson amongst the wreckage. Still breathing was however, all that could be said about him. He had burns on a large portion of his face and his left arm was bent at a very unnatural angle. There were also small pieces of shrapnel embedded in his chest. Stivers immediately ran back to his plane to get his emergency medical kit.
As Stivers approached the plane, he heard coughing coming from inside. Stivers ignored it for the time being, as finding the medkit was his priority.
Rob Gruebel’s coughing had slowed by the time Stivers found the kit. “Stivers, is that you?” Gruebel asked uncertainly. “The fuck happened?”
Stivers’ reply was slow to come however as he took a couple seconds to think about the situation. “We crashed, Devlin and Parpart are dead, and I need to go save Thompson’s life.”
Gruebel stared blankly as Stivers ran back to the smouldering wreck of plane 36.
When Stivers arrived, he immediately got to work on identifying Thompson’s more serious wounds as Taylor left to go find the other two crew members. By the time Stivers had prioritized Thompson’s wounds, Gruebel had ran up to him to offer his assistance.
“Gallivan is still alive. Thanks for checking on us by the way.”
“No problem.” Stivers was focusing on the wounded man in front of him, removing Thompson’s flight jacket. A large portion of the metal came out as the flight jacket was removed, causing some of the wounds to tear. “Help me out Gruebel, will yah?”
Gruebel removed a set of forceps as Stivers twisted Thompson`s arm back into place. Stivers set the bone and Gruebel started removing the smaller pieces of shrapnel. When that was out of the way, Gruebel grabbed the twine, a pair of scissors and a needle. Stivers washed the burn wounds with antiseptic and covered them with gauze, obscuring half of Thompson`s face and a good portion of both of his arms and legs. When Gruebel had finished stitching Thompson`s torso, he applied the antiseptic and the gauze. The whole procedue was done in silence and professionalism as both had served as field medics before.
“Taylor, anyone else?” Stivers asked as a grim faced Taylor approached the scene.
“No one. How’s Thompson?” The pain in Taylor’s voice was evident.
“He’s stable. We should make camp now before it gets dark.” Gruebel was quick to inform Taylor as the sun reached its zenith. “I’ll go and wake up Gallivan.”
“Taylor, let’s set up the tents. When Gruebel gets back, we’ll go and get some firewood from the forest.”
When Gruebel and Gallivan had made their way to the makeshift tents, they offered to gather their fallen comrades, leaving Stivers and Taylor to go hunt for wood. This was nothing new to Stivers as he used to go camping quite a bit before he joined the military. As he was picking up some detritus from a fallen tree, Taylor was busy organizing his thoughts. The sun had lowered to the point in the sky where the stars were just barely visible.
“Taylor, will you get your head out of the clouds and help me?” Taylor shook his head and took Stivers’ armful of wood, starting to make his way to back to camp.
Stivers was about to bend back over to collect more wood when he was cut off by Taylor. “Stivers, did you see that?”
“See what, Taylor?” Stiver’s annoyance was palpable.
“I... I don’t know. I just think I saw something in the woods. You think there are any bears nearby?” Taylor seemed genuinely worried.
“Well Taylor, if there is a bear, I guess I’ll just have to wrestle it into submission.”
“Funny Stivers, I’m being serious. What if there is something dangerous out there?”
“You aren’t much of an outdoors man are you? Still got your sidearm?” Taylor gave a confirmatory nod. “Good. Just shoot it then.” Stivers picked up the last of his armful of wood and started back to camp with Taylor. “Come on Taylor, let’s—”
“Stivers, Look at the sky.” Taylor’s command was so sudden that Stivers did so without hesitation.
“Okay... now what Taylor?”
“Stivers, I don’t think were near America... I don’t even think were in the same hemisphere...”
“Now what would make you think that?” Stivers couldn’t figure out what about the sky would really be able to tell him that until he noticed a distinct absence of any familiar constellations. “Oh. I see.”
“Yah, that. What are we supposed to do now? We couldn’t have flown all the way to any form of hostile country, cause we defeated them all... But if we aren’t in America...”
“Taylor, let’s concentrate on survival for now. Assume we’re in hostile territory.”
“Right. So this is how it feels to be a grunt.”
“Whatever flyboy.”
When they arrived back at camp, They were met by Gallivan patrolling the area.
“Hey guys. Gruebel is watching over Thompson. Let’s get that fire started cause it’s gonna get cold.”
Stivers and Taylor exchanged glances before Stivers decided that he should be the one to inform Gallivan of their predicament.
“Gallivan... We aren’t having that fire.”
“What, why not?”
“We’re in another country. Assume it’s hostile.” Stivers and Taylor dropped their arm fulls of wood beside one of the two tents.
“Spike, we need to alert the princesses of this.” Twilight had been going through her vast knowledge base of the cosmos and nothing she could think of, nor the books in her collection could shed light on what had happened.
“Twilight, it’s two in the morning.” Came spikes Indignant reply. “Can’t it wait?”
“No spike, this could be a cosmic emergency!” Twilight was shouting now as she paced back and forth in her room.
“Fine, I’ll send a letter, but after that, I’m going to bed.” Spike was up far past his bed time and his grumpiness was proof that he was still a baby.
I was practicing my nightly ritual of sky watching this night and to my utmost disappointment, the clouds had not been cleared away by the pegasi this night. It was in these clouds, however, that I saw something strange. After scanning for several minutes for any break in the clouds, I had discovered several flashing lights that were both green and red in colour. After tracking these lights for a few moments did something else happen. Right where the lights had been before, several bright orange flashes of light appeared in the night sky. They almost seemed like explosions, but I cannot be sure. The lights came from over the Everfree forest, near the mountain ranges. I am bringing this to your attention with the hopes that you may be able to explain to me what I saw in Luna’s sky.
Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle”
“Well, Luna,” Celestia and Luna were reading Twilight’s current correspondence with disdain. “You are the expert of the night. What do you say it is?”
“I don’t know Sister... But I say we exercise caution.”
“Agreed. Sergeant?” Celestia remained passive as she called for one of the loyal guards who was stationed at the door.
The door peaked open and the face of one of her guards poked through the door. “Yes, Milady?” His tone was even and formal.
“Inform the Captain that he is to send a detachment to ponyville. They are to perform reconnaissance on an area in the Everfree Forest. The area will be detailed by my student, Twilight Sparkle. The Captain is to bring the Elements of Harmony only if they are needed. Understood?”
The Sergeant took the information in stride as he saluted. “Yes Ma’am.” He stated as he turned and left the room.
“So Sister, do you think it might be...” as Luna drifted off, Celestia picked up the conversation.
Twilight paced anxiously around her library as she waited for the return letter from the princess.
“Twilight, you’re gonna wear a hole into the floor if you keep up this—” A gust of fire carrying a scroll interrupted the tiny dragon. Spike grabbed the letter between coughs and handed it to Twilight. “I hate this system, you know?”
“I know, Spike, but it is the fastest way for communication between myself and the Princesses.” Twilight opened the letter.
Dear Twilight Sparkle. A contingent of Royal Guard are en route to Ponyville. The Captain will brief you on the coming assignment. I want you to have the Elements of Harmony ready for action, just in case. Best of luck, Princess Celestia of Equestria.
Twilight looked out to the rising sun. “If the Princesses received the letter and acted upon it immediately, which I know they would have, then that means that the Guard would have been readied one hour after words... on a seven hour flight from Canterlot... That means that I only have thirty minutes to gather the other Elements!” Twilight, noticing the time, decided she needed to find Rainbow Dash and get her help.
“Spike, watch the library!” Twilight yelled as she galloped out the front door, leaving a bewildered Spike to ponder just what was going through that mares head. Seeing as she had the time while she galloped to her cyan friends cloud home, she decided to do some more math. Rainbow lives four minutes away from the library. If I can get to Rainbow Dash, she can fly to Sweet Apple Acres and get Aj while I get Pinkie Pie. She lives seven minutes away from the library. So if I—
Twilight pulled up short, staring at the empty space ahead where Rainbow’s house had been floating yesterday afternoon. “Oh no...oh no no no, tell me she didn’t move it again…” She glanced around frantically, then spied a white tuft peeking out from behind the edge of a nearby house. Her fore legs trembled as she bounded forward again, the relief flooding her system.
A cyan blurr came into Twilight’s vision and by the time she noticed, she was already participating in a jumble of hooves that Rainbow Dash had created.
“Twilight, watch where you’re going. Some of us have to practice for the Wonderbolts.”
“No time for practice, Rainbow! Princess Celestia needs us to gather the Elements. Go get Applejack while I... Oh no. I didn’t finish the calculations!” Twilight began to feel sweat beading on her brow.
“Twilight, what are you worrying about now? It can’t be that important.” Rainbow’s reply was blunt and like always, drew a confused glance out of Twilight.
“Not important?” Twilight could feel her voice rising. “If I don’t map out the fastest route to each of our friends’ homes, we won’t be making the most efficient use of the time we need to prepare for the—” Rainbow’s hoof stopped Twilight’s ranting.
“Twilight, I’ll just go get Applejack and Fluttershy, because they live the furthest away, then you can get Pinkie Pie and Rarity. Easy as that.” Rainbow slowly removed her hoof from Twilight’s muzzle and the purple coated mare took a deep breath.
“Wow, Rainbow. I guess we could do that.” Twilight exhaled and looked back to her friend, a new passion for the quest filling her eyes. “Go get AJ and Fluttershy, then meet me at the library.”
Captain Golden Sword led his flight team through the clouds surrounding Ponyville. Gather forces, check. Equip arms and armour, check. Fly to Ponyville, check. Meet Twilight Sparkle. Maybe I can get one of my subordinates to do it. He quickly cut his train of thought before he decided someone else should do his job for him. Meet Twilight Sparkle, deal with whatever it is she’s complaining about, go home, get dinner. Sounds like a good day to me.
The library was in sight now, so Captain Sword gave the signal for his platoon to start their descent to the ground. Captain Sword noted that not a single pony was in the main roundabout. He trotted to the door, listening to the muffled sounds of his iron shoes on the Ponyville dirt, enjoying the silence. All good things need to end...
The Captain raised his fore hoof to knock on the door, closing his eyes to prepare himself for a meeting he did not want to partake in. He moved his hoof forward, and kept going forward, until he fell flat on his face, a pink pony waiting where the door was moments ago. But... The door. I didn’t even hear it op—
Sniggering from Sub-Lieutenant Midnight Arrow stopped his train of thought. “Lieutenant. I know I don’t hear you laughing.” The rumbling of Sword’s voice caused Sub-Lieutenant Arrow’s mouth to shut instantly as the Captain stood up. “Now then, Where is Twiligh—”
The Captain was cut off this time by a diminutive green and purple dragon. “Twilight’s upstairs. I’ll go get her.” The dragon’s tone clearly portrayed his boredom.
Don’t prostrate the little bugger. He’s just a kid.
“Alright,” Twilight’s voice stopped his further thoughts. “if everypony could just have a seat around the table.” Captain Sword sat at the seat Twilight had motioned to. “I believe the good Captain here has some news for us.” Twilight's scowl betrayed her happy tone.
“Right. Yesterday it was reported by Twilight Spark—”
“I saw some unnatural weather phenomena.” Captain Sword could feel his scowl growing.
“Thank you, Miss Sparkle. Now, as I was saying, The Princesses have called us here—”
Rainbow was the first to interrupt this time. “Wait a minute, buddy, who’s ‘us’?”
Captain Gold waited for someone else to point out the obvious, but when nopony did, he started again. “I meant the oth—”
Pinkie’s voice was added to the fray in her usual jovial manner. “He means the other guards silly! Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt you?”
Sword’s eye twitched. As he opened his mouth again to speak, he held his breath, waiting. For two seconds he sat there, mouth askew, waiting for somepony to say something. When none rose to the challenge, he exhaled, readying his speech. “The Princesses have ordered me to escort you all to the location of th—”
“Wait, that’s what the Princess wanted the Elements for? To go into the Everfree Forest?” Fluttershy’s meek voice stopped the captain again. “But... there are scary things in the forest... like dragons... and shadows!”
The Captain did a double take. Did she really just say ‘shadows’? “Um... Yes. We will be going to the Everfree. Yes, you will be under guard, Yes, we will investigate things, No there will be no party.” Before the pink pony could inhale enough air for a retort, the Captain had continued. “You will all follow us, without talking, or asking questions, or any general shenanigans. Let’s go.”
Pinkie leaned to Dash, “Wow, what a big bully. He totally interrupted me.”
Golden Sword gritted his teeth as he rose. Oh how I hate this aspect of my job.
Taylor and Gruebel stood watch outside the makeshift tent area, Taylor watching the bodies, Gruebel watching the forest. Stivers and Gallivan were asleep inside the tent with Thompson, and were sleeping like babies because of their combat experience. Gallivan could not only see, but feel the eyes of hungry predators lurking in the forest, watching his every move. Waiting.
Thompson was sleeping inside the makeshift shelter so he had nothing to fear. Taylor and Gruebel, however, did not handle it as well. Sure Taylor was a vet with over 3000 flying hours under his belt, but he had never been shot down, never had to survive the smell of cooked, dead flesh. It was only because of his experience and training did he manage to not shoot anything that moved. The same thing could not be said for Gruebel. More than once he let loose a shot of in the direction of a howl or the angry glare of the forest’s eyes.
Taylor sat down near the startled Private, “Listen here son, I know that you have never seen active duty before. I’ve never been on the ground behind enemy lines before, so this is as new to me as it is you, but you gotta keep a cool head out here otherwise you won’t survive. You can’t keep shooting at anything that moves for two reasons, one being that gunfire is loud and every time you fire, you not only give away our position, you scare the piss out of me.” He followed the last comment up with a half-hearted smile.
Gruebel looked at his flight leader with tired eyes, “And the other reason, Sir?”
“I’m something that moves,” Taylor held the smirk.
The young trainee pilot stared at his flight leader for a moment before managing a small smile of his own. “Yes Sir, sorry Sir.”
“It’s alright son, now holster that pistol. You're still making me nervous waving that thing around. Save your ammo, you never know when you’ll need it. I just wish we could see past those clouds though. You know, its strange. There are no clouds off that way,” Taylor pointed off to the left towards the moon, “but above us and towards the right, it's thicker than chowder.” Gruebel nodded dumbly, his face scrunched in thought.
“Why haven’t 81 and 3 come back for us Sir?”
“Good question Gruebel. I assume that they don’t want to be hit by flak, but judging by the lack of anything hostile in the area, I seriously doubt that we are in hostile territory. And besides, those explosions did not look like flak.” Taylor looked to the tent where Stivers was asleep. “Maybe 81 and 3 hit the mountain?”
Gruebel’s face adopted a look of solum acceptance as he thought about his fellow marines aboard FT-81. “I hope they made it.”
“You were in the Reserves, right Gruebel?”
“Yah. Wanted to join the war like my dad, but I was too young. Jumped at the first chance I got though.” Gruebel said, looking to the ground.
Noticing the turn of conversation, Taylor decided to steer the conversation to a more recent time. “So, if you’re a Marine, why are you in the air with us flyboys?” Gruebel’s face regained some of its cheer at the topic shift, making Taylor smile inwardly.
“Well, we were all part of a cross field training initiative. You know, find out if any of us were talented at flying. I mostly just operated the radio... It’s what I did in the Marines too.”
“Huh.” Taylor placed his hand on the back of the aspiring pilot. “This your first real flight?” Gruebel’s gaze returned to the ground, giving Taylor his answer. “Well, looks like we did a bang up job on this one, huh?”
“Sir, I’m not sure if—” Gruebel was interrupted by the sound of an approaching growl coming from a nearby bush.
Taylor had a baffled look on his face as he turned to face the creature. “Dear. Sweet. God. What is that?”
A/N First off, Thank you all for your continued support. And a huge thanks to The three people who answered the call in the first 30 minutes.
Fluttershy glanced around nervously as the group of guards escorted her and her friends into the Everfree Forest. Everything looked the same as the last time she had been here, dark and scary. The guards will protect us from all of the monsters. I know they will.
Looking to her right, she saw the last glimpses of Ponyville disappear as her vision was filled with the coniferous trees of the Everfree. She heard somepony let out a nervous “peep” and for two seconds, couldn’t figure out who it was. But when she observed the eyes of her friends showing looks of encouragement, she realized it was she who had spoken, and ducked behind her mane to better hide from their stares.
“What’s wrong Fluttershy? Chicken?” Rainbow taunted. Fluttershy just lowered her head more in response. “Oh come on Fluttershy, It’s just the forest...” Rainbow’s voice trailed off, her face betraying her dismay at making Fluttershy feel worse.
“Lay off her, Rainbow.” Twilights encouraging voice made the meek yellow pegasus’ head lift a few inches as she gained some courage.
“It’s okay dear. We’re all scared.” Rarity’s voice filled in the gap when Twilight stopped. “Right, Rainbow?” She said, her voice seething with venom.
“Yah... I guess I’m a littl—”
Rainbow’s apology was cut off as Captain Sword made his opinion known. “Will you all shut up? You are going to get us killed.”
Golden Sword’s Harsh words immediately removed whatever confidence her friends had given her.
Pinkie decided that now would be the perfect time to point out that the clouds were slowly descending towards the Everfree Forest. "Hey, everypony! The sky is falling!"
About half of the guard ponies looked up along with Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack. Twilight was the first to speak up to debunk Pinkies claims. “Pinkie, The clouds are just breaking up. It’s natural over places like this.”
“But Twilight, my Pinkie Sense is telling me there’s gonna be a doozy soon. And I think it has to do with the sky. I’m also sensing that something is gonna fall, so—” Pinkie was interrupted by a coconut falling from one of the nearby pine trees and landing square between the Captain's eyes, causing his body to crouch and adopt an offensive posture.
As Golden Sword flailed left and right looking for his aggressor, Pinkie was on her side, huddled up with Rainbow Dash laughing at the absurdity of the captain’s reactions. “I guess... we... can count out... the sky falling.” Rainbow managed to stutter between breaths.
Fluttershy watched in concern as the Captain slowly realized that he was not under attack and regained a more neutral position. “Who threw that coconut?” His voice was above a whisper, but barely.
“A... A coconut?” Twilight’s face contorted in confusion. “We are nowhere near any form of tropical area. How in Celestia’s name are there coconuts here?”
As Pinkie Pie stood up, she offered the only suggestion she could think of. "Maybe it was a swallow?"
“Let’s just... keep going.” Captain Sword said through gritted teeth as he fought off a furious blush that had wormed its way onto his face.
The large group of ponies continued their trek through the forest without much incident for what, to Fluttershy, felt like hours. This place looks familiar. I wonder if we’ve been here before... No, we’ve been going in a straight line. Maybe we—
Applejack seemed to be thinking the same thing as she interrupted Fluttershy’s thoughts. “Now ah know we passed this here tree before.”
“What makes you think that, Miss Applejack?” Midnight Arrow inquired smoothly. "We have been going in a straight line."
"Ah don't know." Applejack pawed at the ground nervously with a forehoof. "Ah just get the feelin' we've been here before."
"That's natural. Everybody's nervous, but don't worry. Captain Sword's been through tougher times than this; he'll lead us out safe." The sub-lieutenant’s silky tone cut across the heavy air in the forest, and all of the ponies in earshot felt a bit calmer, the nervous flickering of their ears settling back into something more normal.
“Um actually miss... I think that maybe my friend is right.” Fluttershy responded meekly.
“Fluttershy, you need to speak up dear.” Rarity said as she nudged her friend.
“Oh... sorry” Was all Fluttershy could wrangle from her vocal cords before she hung her head limply again.
Fluttershy returned her gaze on the ground as they walked on, keeping her eyes fixed directly ahead. Rarity's hind hooves floated in and out of her peripheral vision, sometimes meandering off to one side before moving back. She let her thoughts drift a bit, content that, at least for the moment, no one was yelling at her. Or asking her something. Or even talking in her general direction.
Content, at least, until Rarity's hooves stutter-stepped in front of her as the white unicorn collapsed to the ground. "RARITY!" she yelled.
“What's wro— whoaah. Anypony else feel that?” Fluttershy stopped, looking past Rarity to see Twilight start swaying. “I’m feeling a bit woozy...”
Looking up, Fluttershy noticed that the falling clouds had reached the tallest trees in the forest and was still rapidly approaching. “Maybe it has to do with th—”
Fluttershy’s voice was drowned out by the captain yelling to his men. “Manticores, incoming! Arrow, take Shining Star, and get the Elements out of here!”
Fluttershy could see three manticores charging down the path towards the line of guards as her vision started to go black around the edges. She watched as the captain drew his sword and charged at the first of the manticores, while the nine other soldiers followed him in. She was faintly aware of her field of vision slowly shifting but she wasn’t moving her body. Her vision darkened as she saw a manticore punch one of the guardponies into a tree.
The last thing Fluttershy saw before being completely overtaken by fear was Shining Star picking up Rarity.
When Fluttershy awoke, she found herself on Midnight Arrow’s back. “Where are we?” she sputtered groggily. Sounds and smells flooded back into her senses, and she realized with a dull sense of shame that she had simply passed out from fear.
She couldn’t see two hoof spans in front of her due to the lowered clouds. The only indication that they weren’t alone was Midnight’s silky voice flowing through the fog. “I don’t know.” The normally smooth tone of her voice seemed ragged around the edges.” “After we fled the battle, the fog lowered and we got lost. We can’t find the trail.”
“Where’s Rarity?” Fluttershy croaked weakly.
“I don’t know. Last I saw was Private Star trotting off with your friends. I think I heard them yelling, but I don’t know.” Her tone wavered more as she seemed on the verge of crying. “I’m sorry Fluttershy... I failed.”
“Oh Midnight. You didn’t fail.” Fluttershy’s maternal instincts started taking over as she felt her fear of the forest around her leave.
“But Fluttershy, I did fail. I should have stuck with the group when the fog came down. But the ground started shaking, and there were snarling noises everywhere. So I—” her speech was cut off by a choking sob as Midnight Arrow broke down in tears and collapsed.
Fluttershy slid from the prostrate mare's back and crouched next to her, unfolding a wing and letting it drape over Midnight's shoulders. “It’s okay Midnight. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Fluttershy tried to keep her voice from wavering as she tried to calm the depressed pegasus. “I probably would have done the same thing!”
“Yah right Fluttershy,” Midnight snapped. “You’ve stared down dragons before. Plus Nightmare Moon, Discord, Cerber—”
“Stop it right now Midnight.” Fluttershy had adopted her assertive voice and the Guardspony stopped her rant. “You are a Royal Guard, Midnight. You are the best of the best and you know it. Now, I need you Midnight. I need you because I am not a strong pony. I need you because I’m scared, Midnight.” Fluttershy’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “I need you, lieutenant.”
“Fluttershy...” Midnight took a deep breath, and then fixed the yellow pegasus with a stare and a wry smile. “It’s Sub-lieutenant.”
Fluttershy blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry..."
Midnight Arrow patted the pegasus with a forehoof. "Relax, Fluttershy, it was just a joke. Not a very good one, either." She took a deep, shuddering breath and touched her nose to the other mare's shoulder for a moment. "Thank you. For helping me."
Fluttershy's ears flattened in embarrassment, but she managed a small smile. "Oh, I didn’t do anything. After all, it was you who inspired me."
Midnight’s face adopted a rosy tone as she blushed. “We need to find the others... and I can’t do it alone. What do you say?”
Fluttershy stood up and met Midnight's gaze directly. "I say...let's go!"
Twilight’s horn was awash with purple fire as she lit the way for her group of followers. She needed to find Midnight and Fluttershy. The fog was making finding the path impossible so her group had been trailblazing for the better part of fifteen minutes. Every time she would think about calling out, she would either stop herself for fear of attracting monsters, or her voice wouldn’t carry further than ten hoof spans.
Aww horseapples. If this fog doesn’t lift soon, we’ll never find Fluttershy. Twilight looked around, eyes squinted in a vain attempt to see the ponies a metre away from her. Shining Star was only a few paces to her left so Twilight decided to check up on Rarity.
This drain isn’t natural... Why is it only affecting me and Rarity? If only I could think straight. Twilight was rapidly approaching exhaustion but knew that if she fell, the light she was emitting would die, and the minute that happened, she would stop being a beacon for everypony to rally around.
“How’s she looking, Miss Twilight?” Twilight kept staring blankly at Rarity, her mind occupied with keeping the simple light spell in existence, and her own worrying. “Miss Twilight?”
“Hmm?” Now aware she was being spoken too, Twilight swiveled her head towards the voice that came from a worried Star. “Oh... Um... She looks...”
So peaceful, maybe if I just closed my eyes...
“No!” She shouted. Private Star flinched at the sudden outburst.
“Are you okay Miss Sparkle?” His concern was starting to irritate Twilight, but she kept her voice calm.
“Yes. Just a bit tired, is all. Don’t worr—” A nudge from Applejack cut her off as she leapt away in fear. “Gah, AJ, Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Sugarcube, ah’ve been here for three minutes. Besides, Twi, you shouldn’t be workin’ yerself too hard. Maybe we should just take a break here?” Twilight was glad that nopony could see her blushing at being so unobservant.
Pinkie took the time as an opportunity to ruin more of Twilights scientific principles by miraculously hopping around everypony in the fog. “It’s okay Twilight. You don’t need to be embarrassed about being tired.” Twilight’s blush intensified as Pinkie outed her. “After all Twi, you hardly leave the library enough for proper exercise.”
Twilight’s resolve wavered as she felt more of her energy drain. “Fine. We’ll stop here for five minutes. Then we’ll keep going.” She sat down under one of the many trees and closed her eyes for what seemed to be only seconds, but was nudged awake by an impatient Rainbow Dash.
“Twilight, it’s been five minutes. We need to get going.” Twilight blinked in confusion. “C’mon Twi. Get up already! I did a bit of scouting above the fog, and I think it’s almost passed. The forest is just swallowing it.”
Twilight got to her hooves as steadily as she could, not feeling any better. “All right. Lets keep going.” The horn on her forehead blazed with light once more, but Twilight felt as if the world had suddenly tilted sideways, her vision dimming further. She let the illumination spell die out and sat down again in an ungainly sprawl.
“What’s wrong Twi?” The nonchalant expression on the cyan mare's face vanished, replaced by a look of concern.
“Just... dizzy is all. Having a hard time seeing...” Twilight shook her head in what she thought would be a good idea for clearing her head, but instead ended up falling on her side, her concentration completely broken.
“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed,” Rainbow said dryly. She glanced upward again, then back down at her friend. "Look, the fog is clearing up a bit, why don't you just lay off with the magical flashlight thingy and just take a break?"
Twilight lifted her head and gazed blearily at her friend. "But we won't be able to see..." She trailed off, belatedly realizing that she could see, at least dimly. Rainbow's form stood nearby, the multi-coloured swirl of her mane a simple mass of various grey shades in the darkness, but clearly backlit here and there against a torn curtain of cloud overhead. Whatever the mysterious fog was that had enveloped them, either the wind, some odd property of the Everfree Forest, or something else was causing it to slowly dissipate.
It was the "something else" option that had Twilight worried. "Okay, just let me rest a minute, and I'll be ready to go."
"Sorry, you're just too slow for me." Rainbow crouched down low to the ground, a crooked grin spreading over her face. "You're gonna have to learn to keep up."
"What? No, wait, I can get up, I just—wait!" Twilight emitted a startled screech as Rainbow Dash ducked her head low, and with a twist and a shrug, settled the purple unicorn across her back. "Rainbow, you can't carry me, I'm too heavy!"
"Yeah, right." The cyan pegasus rolled her shoulders slightly, settling Twilight's form just between her wings. "I've carried heavier stuff before, don't worry."
Twilight shuddered and let out a moan as her head spun. "Just...don't drop me, okay?"
Rainbow turned to give her a dirty look. "Just as long as you don't get sick back there."
Pinkie’s voice brought Twilight back to a semblance of attention. “Does anypony else hear that?” Her ears were swiveled and her right forehoof was pointing to something amongst the trees like a hound dog. “It sounds like somepony is calling for us!”
Twilight tried to lift her head to look, but couldn’t summon the energy. She did however hear what sounded faintly like a mare’s voice. “I hear it Pinkie... who do you think it is?”
“You don’t think it’s a ghost, do you?” Twilight could feel Rainbow start to shake under her.
Shining Star made his presence known by shouting back. “Midnight? Is that you?” Twilight’s head started to pound inside her skull. Unsure of whether it was from Rainbow’s unsteady movements, or from Shining’s shouting, she let out a soft groan.
“Shining Star? where are you?” Twilight definitely heard that. It sounded as if it were only a few metres away.
“We’re over here!” Star answered back.
Twilight knew she was on the verge of passing out. The pain in her head was unbearable, her face was scrunched up in agony. She felt the cold ground on her side and what sounded like muffled voices. She couldn’t concentrate on any of them however. She let out one last shrill scream and then passed out.
Twilight’s eyes burst open in panic. “What happened? Where are we?” Twilight again felt her world shift as she fell from the back of Rainbow Dash.
Twilight shook her head and shot Rainbow a glare from where she lay on the ground. "I told you not to drop me!"
Rainbows retort was quick, “I didn’t drop you. Your flung yourself off of me!”
“Twilight, You’re awake! Thank Celestia!” The lilting tone of Rarity's voice washed over Twilight in a soothing wave. “You’ve been asleep for the better part of an hour. Or so I’m told.”
Before Twilight could ask how Rarity was, she noticed that the pain in her head was completely gone, as was the fog. “Twilight, get up.” Captain Sword’s booming voice brought her to re-examine her surroundings. “We are nearing the base of the mountain.”
“Captain? What happened?” Twilight stared at the leader of the guards, noting the fresh scratches and dull spots on his armor.
“We protected you from the manticores.” He stated proudly. “As you made your escape, we held them back. We almost lost Tea Biscuit when he was thrown into a tree.”
“‘Tis but a flesh wound” Tea Biscuit responded indignantly.
“Anyway, after the fog lifted, we regrouped and your pink friend noticed some smoke in the distance.” He turned back towards the direction everypony was still marching and rejoined his soldiers, leaving Twilight with her friends.
Twilight stood in stunned silence at the brevity of the captain until Midnight Arrow nudged her, waving her head in the same direction the Captain went. “Let’s go Miss Sparkle.”
Twilight just shook her head and drifted behind the Sub-lieutenant, who had resumed her conversation with Fluttershy.
Hey, I don’t feel tired anymore! Twilight felt a smile work its way to her lips. I wonder what that cloud was?
The ponies continued along at a steady pace, their individual conversations a quiet murmur against the background noises of the forest. They continued on for several moments, the trees and bushes beginning to thin out somewhat. Just ahead of her, the others pushed through a low line of shrubs and there was a collective intake of breath. Breaking into a trot, Twilight shouldered past Rarity and came to a stop.
Ahead of her, the forest opened out into a clearing, and the sight before her froze her in place, dumbstruck with incomprehension.
“Really Taylor?” Gruebel look at his fellow pilot in confusion. “You really never got out much, did you? It’s a brown bear. So long as we don’t act threateningly, it should leave us alone.”
The aforementioned bear stood only twelve metres away from the American pilots, standing on its rear legs to make itself more frightening. “I don’t care what it is. Getting this close without making so much as a sound is just unnatural.” Another roar made Taylor flinch.
This doesn’t make sense, we shouldn’t be anywhere near brown bear country. Gruebel thought worriedly.
The bear fell onto its front legs and started to advance towards the frightened pilot. “What’s going on out there guys?” The bear paused at the new voice. “Stivers is trying to sleep.”
Gruebel saw Gallivan leave the tent, giving the bear another target. He also saw the opportunity to take the bear down for good. Drawing his pistol, he took aim for the now exposed side of the bear’s skull. The loud percussion of two .45 bullets rang through the air as the bear collapsed.
Stivers ran out the tent with his gun in one hand, his belt in the other. “What the hell was that?” he yelled, seeing the bear on the ground made him stop. “Is it dead?”
“No sir. I think I just stunned it.” Gruebel said lamely. “Should we kill it?”
“Well let me think, Gruebel. It’s a dangerous fucking animal, that happens to be delicious. I think we should defin—”
“NOOOOOOOOOO!” Everyone was surprised to hear a woman's voice, but were even more surprised by its source. As the four conscious heads of Flight 19 turned to view the newcomer, four jaws dropped simultaneously. Sprinting towards the group was a yellow horse, screaming at the top of her lungs.
Taylor just stood wide eyed, while Gallivan fainted. Gruebel and Stivers exchanged a glance, both trying to figure out what they’d just witnessed. Gruebel turned his attention back to the oncoming horse. Are those wings?
“Nooooo!” it screamed again.
The closer the horse got to the group, the further Taylor’s jaw dropped. When it got within forty metres of the assembled pilots, Gruebel noticed something else about this horse; it was only four feet tall.
“Guys, what is this?” Stivers voice wavered. Gruebel dropped his gun, eyes still wide.
“Umm...” Taylor closed his mouth long enough to make the syllable. “I think it’s a—”
“Those are wings!” Stivers shouted, oblivious to the answer Taylor was providing him.
As the horse drew near, it pushed Taylor out of its way and continued to the bear. Once at its destination, it began to cry. “Is it crying?” Taylor’s expression contorted in confusion.
Gruebel took this moment to look up, deciding that whatever God had thrown at them, was just too much, but what he saw, was much worse. The shine of twelve armoured pegasi glinted off the sun as they quickly descended, spears under their wings.
Gruebel looked towards the forest edge where the yellow horse came from. Well. I guess I did die. As the pegasi encircled the group of pilots, a bright magenta flash lit up Gruebel’s field of view and deposited five colourful equines not five feet in front of him. What kind of hell is this?
“Drop your weapons!” The pegasus wearing golden armour began to speak in a voice that would have made his drill sergeant proud. “You are under arrest by decree of The Royal Princesses of Equestria!”
Gruebel fainted.
A/N: As was pointed out last chapter, fimfiction ate the formatting. so I tried something new. let me know what you guys think.
Also, Chapter update, on time! Go us. A tremendous thanks to my editors, who talked me through some of my writer blocky times. You guys rock, woohoo.
Anyway, on with the show I almost feel like I'm missing something...
Stivers stood in mute shock. That horse is talking. And that one... his eyes shifting to the yellow horse, that one is weeping.
“I said drop your weapons!” The gold clad stallion bellowed a second time.
“Taylor, are you seeing this?” Stivers rubbed his eyes.
“Yah Stivers. I’m seeing this.” Taylor replied awkwardly.
“This is your last warning.” The horse whom Stivers presumed to be their leader was pawing at the ground, ready to charge.
Stivers looked to the advancing ponies, then back to Taylor. Their thoughts became parallel, fight or flight, and flight wasn’t an option. Taylor nodded, Stivers raised his gun, intent on taking down the white and gold wall that stood between him and freedom. He reached for the trigger, but his finger didn’t move.
Why can’t I move? He tried to turn his head, but the muscles wouldn’t stretch. What’s happening? None of his limbs were following his commands, frozen in place. Stivers’ heart started beating faster.
The orange equine moved forward, a look of worry on her face, “Twi’, you sure you got them?”
Oh Christ, he thought to himself. The orange horse’s wearing a fucking cowboy hat. What isn't possible right now?
“Of course AJ, I’ve stopped plenty of bigger things before.” the purple unicorn piped up, her horn aglow with lavender light.
Applejack edged closer still, along with the armoured guards. “We warned you,” the angry tones of the leader stated. “and now we are forced to disarm you.” AJ moved forward and gripped Stivers’ M1911 in her mouth carefully, trying not to set off the dangerous device as she removed it from his grasp.
Oh God, now what? Stivers heard a thump behind him, and soon felt the inertia of the ground rushing up to meet himself as well. He flexed his arms, then his neck. I can move again... What happened? He tried to stand, but a powerful hoof kept him in place.
“Stivers,” Taylor said through clenched teeth, no doubt in a similar predicament to himself. “how do we get out out of this one hmm?”
“Well, if this is real, I say we do what they want.” Stivers replied.
“Stivers! We can’t surrender!” The fear in Taylor’s voice was not heard, but felt. “They’ll torture us!”
“Taylor, we are outmanned, outgunned, and have injured. I am the senior officer here on the ground, and yo—” A timid voice cut him off.
“Um... do you have any... medical supplies?” The yellow pegasus had moved quickly from the unconscious bear to the partially subdued aggressors.
“Stivers,” Taylor’s body was shaking, his voice uneven. “where are we?”
“Taylor, stop resisting.” If we are walking out of this alive, we need a peaceful solution. Stivers didn’t know if he was suffering from a concussion, a particularly odd brand of insanity, or if he was facing stark raving reality, but until given evidence to the contrary, he was sticking to the third option for now. “That’s an order, Lieutenant.”
Taylor did as he was told, and took several deep breaths. While Taylor stared off blankly into space, Stivers did the most sensible thing he could think of. “We have medical supplies in the tent. Green bag, red cross.”
“Don’t trust them Miss Fluttershy. There could be more in the tent.” The leader of the group said, with as much hostility as he could muster, while still remaining calm.
“I have to. If I don’t, Joshua could die.”
Stivers did a double take, “Joshua? Who’s Joshua?”
The yellow pegusus answered him in her low tones as she made her way towards the tent. “Joshua is the poor bear who you almost killed!”
Stivers’ eyes closed to half lidded shock as his mouth opened in confusion. “You have got to be kidding me...” His whisper was quiet enough that he could barely hear himself.
One of the steel clad guards strode up to the canary mare and stopped her, a pleading look in its eyes. “Miss Fluttershy, don’t trust it.” Its inflection made it out to be female.
“What are you?” The purple unicorn asked. “I have never seen any documentation of your species... nor your weapons, nor that,” She pointed one of her hooves at one of the still functional Avenger bombers, “thing...”
Stivers’ eyes lit with realization. “What am I...? What are you? There's no way that the boys back home will believe us about this. Talking horses...”
The present company of technicolour ponies all looked taken aback as the orange horse offered a more helpful term. “Horse? Ah ain’t never been more insulted in all my life! We’re one-hundred percent ponies, mister! Now what in tarnation are you?” The southern drawl was prevalent and reminded him of Texas.
“Stop talking to the prisoners.” The gold plated stallion had a scowl that spoke more of his irritation than his voice. “Shadow, Crimson, bind them.”
Stivers noted the two approaching war ponies and crouched into a defensive position, arms raised. “Hey, I’ve been cooperative. No need for any handcuffs.”
One of the approaching horses, this one noticeably more black than his comrades, stopped and contorted his face in a question, “What’s a handcuff?”.
Stivers stared blankly at the approaching black stallion, who he assumed was Shadow. “The rope. You don’t need to bind me up or anything.” When the two stallions kept approaching, Stivers decided to think on his feet. “You need me to carry the stretcher.”
The same black pegasus halted again, slowing his partner's movements. “We can carry these two—” He was interrupted by the gold armored pony.
“We do not carry the prisoners. That just screams ‘stupid idea’. Keep your mouth shut Crimson.”
“No, I have an injured man. Taylor and I,” Stivers gestured to a still stunned Taylor, lying on the ground, “we can carry the stretcher so you don’t have to.”
“Captain?” Crimson had a questioning look on his face. “Maybe we should let them do it?”
The Captain of the group took a minute of thought while the orange mare’s irritation clearly grew. “Fine. But we will be watching yo—” A shrill scream came from inside the tent followed by a yellow blur.
Stivers grabbed for his gun, but Shadow reacted instantly to the movement, surging forward and bowling the human over. Stivers panicked, pushing his fist under the chin of his aggressor, forcing Shadow’s head up. Shadow raised a hoof, slamming it into Stivers’ chest. Stivers went with the impact, allowing the momentum to roll his opponent over to gain some leverage, but was swiftly tackled by the waiting Crimson, pinning him on his back.
Stivers was vaguely aware of the other guards closing around him, but his focus was fixed on trying to get his limbs unpinned by the sheer might of the two ponies above him. A dull moan caught his attention, bringing him away from the battle. Taylor.
Stivers noted the hemp loops being wrapped around his wrists, and a metal collar being applied to his neck. “Hey, get off of me!” As he heard the click of the collar, he turned his head to see Taylor facing a similar fate, and the little yellow pegasus they'd called Fluttershy hiding behind the scowling orange mare, a familiar green bag held between her lips.
The meek yellow pegasus peeked out from beyond the orange pony, her attention her ears perking as a high pitched feminine voice emanated from the pink one. “What’s wrong, Fluttershy?”
“There’s another one inside... I think it’s wounded. And crispy...”
The six coloured ponies looked amongst each other in confusion till the blue pegasus spoke up, “Crispy? Really? Why would it be Crispy?”
“His plane crashed... he was the only survivor.” Taylor said blankly. Stivers was glad that Taylor had finally come out of his shock.
Fluttershy jumped to Taylor with speed Stivers didn’t think was possible. “Oh the poor dear. I don’t know what I would do if any of my friends had died...” Her eyes were starting to water and her breath was catching.
Sorry guys, but I need to use you. Stivers quickly glanced over to the poorly hidden line of the dead.
“We’ve all lost friends.” Stivers made a show of pouting and to his surprise, a genuine tear came to his face. “We never got a chance to bury them.”
The yellow pony, clearly smitten with grief, moved off towards the bear, probably to go attempt to sterilize the wound. Why in the world would a pony care for a bear?
He continued to look at the line of his friends until he heard a soft murmur to his left. Looking over he saw Fluttershy looking at the collection of cadavers, tears in her eyes. He looked back again to the group of five ponies, noticing that they all suddenly had a similar look of sorrow stricken across their faces. So, they’re sympathetic...
Stivers looked back the yellow one again to see how far he could push her. He saw the pink pony beside her, two waterfalls cascading down her cheeks in arcs that shouldn’t have been possible.
Feeling a hoof on his back where his hands were tied, he felt his bonds being loosened, and then finally broken, with the golden Captain standing over him. “Go, bury them. We’ll keep watch.”
Stivers looked over at Taylor and saw that the elder Lieutenant's hands had been similarly freed. Their eyes met for a long moment, and both seemed to share the same sentiment; they had a chance, not to make things right again, but at least to make them orderly, as much as they could, and neither wanted to waste it. They moved together over to the tent, each pulling out one of the short-handled issue spades meant for digging foxholes. Or trenches. Or anything you wanted, really. It was a simple tool meant for moving earth, meant to be small and portable, so why did it weigh so much now when the task was still the same?
Stivers gripped the cold steel of the handle in one hand and sighed. "Come on. Let's get it done."
Stivers observed the injured man whom he and Taylor were carrying. Thompson seemed to be doing fairly well for someone who was covered in third degree burns.
Gruebel and Gallivan had awoken while Stivers and Taylor were digging a mass grave for the other pilots, and were taken aback by the presence of the ‘Royal Guard of Canterlot’. Afterwards, the pink and the purple one, Pinkie Pie and Twilight Sparkle, began asking cascades of questions, ranging from “Do you like cupcakes?”, to :What is the capital of Neighssyria?” That question almost brought the entire convoy to a dead stop as Gruebel halted to stare at the pink pony in confusion saying, “How in the world would I know that?”
They continued on slowly, the group taking several moments to find a comfortable walking pace that balanced the smaller ponies speed with the longer strides of the humans. Taylor was at the head of the improvised stretcher they had cobbled together for Thompson, and Stivers saw him glance over at the yellow pegasus, named Fluttershy. "Um…how’s your friend?"
She emitted a small squeak and glanced around quickly, then seemed to realize he was talking to her. "Who?"
"The bear."
"Oh! Oh, he’s fine." She offered a tentative smile. "He was scratched across the head by that thing you used, and shaken up, but I’m very good with helping injured animals. He just needs rest, now." She turned her attention back to the path before them. "He’ll be okay, nopony would try to hurt a bear. Well, except for you, I mean." Her smile vanished, and she gave Taylor a stern glance. "That wasn’t very nice."
"Yeah…um, sorry about that." Stivers watched in mixed amusement and disbelief as the young lieutenant squirmed under the dressing-down he was receiving from a talking pony half his height. "He scared us pretty badly. I, uh, I’m glad he’ll be okay, though."
Golden Sword’s voice floated back toward them. "If you two would like to be alone for a bit, I can certainly arrange it. Because if you don’t shut up, I’ll leave both of you here."
Fluttershy and Taylor’s faces immediately turned almost identical shades of red, and Stivers wondered absently just how the pony was managing that feat when her features were covered in short yellow fur. Things like that were losing their capacity to surprise him at this point however, so he just kept his own mouth shut and continued walking. Considering the Captain’s standing orders to take them all into custody, it seemed an empty threat, and the yellow pony’s companions didn’t seem unduly alarmed, either.
After that, the Captain decided that no one was allowed to talk, making it a very boring trip through a very boring forest. Which all of the ponies seemed afraid of. “Why are you guys so afraid of a forest?”, Stivers asked in a low voice.
Before the Captain could silence Stivers, the orange pony, Applejack, spoke up. “T’aint natural, that’s why. All the clouds move on their own, and the plants can grow without help.” Stivers stared at Applejack with his mouth open.
We have definitely died. And this is definitely hell.
“Okay. Now that we’ve gotten the crazy out of the way, why are all so afraid of the forest?” Stivers asked again, much to Applejack’s chagrin.
“Applejack isn’t lying, darling.” Rarity, the white unicorn, muttered in fear.
“Can you all please shut your mouths?” Captain Sword grated, what little patience he had displayed to this point clearly gone. “It is hard enough concentrating on your safety while you are all talking and luring the monsters closer.”
Monsters? At that time, fate thought it would be a good time to have three corpses appear in the middle of the path. They all had the head of a lion, the tail of a scorpion, and the wings of a bat.
Taylor stopped, forcing Stivers to stop as well, but Gallivan was the first to speak. “What are those things?” The four pilots faces ranged from horror to shock.
“Those are manticores. We killed them on our way to find you.” The Captain’s face was dead serious.
“How have you never heard of a manticore before? They’re all over the world!” Twilight stated in confusion.
“Damn...” Taylor trailed off as he stared at the odd beasts, ignoring the distraught mare’s question. The import of the captain’s words finally hit home, and he turned his gaze to the armor clad pegasus. “Wait...you knew about us?”
The Captain's eyes widened but a fraction. “Why does nopony ever listen when I tell them to stop talking?” He let out a long sigh, eliciting a chuckle from Stivers.
The rest of the trip through the forest was quiet, as everyone was lost in thought.
The group made their way out of the forest as the sun was setting, nary a word said between them. Stivers used his practiced military eye to spot anything that could be relevant to their situation; a cottage, a lake, and a town. Everything seemed cheerier than usual. Where the hell are we?
Upon the road to the town was a bipedal purple lizard, breathing heavily as if running for some time. “Twilight! Urgent message from the princess!”
The lavender unicorn galloped forward, much to the disdain of the captain, and embraced the small reptile. “Where is it, Spike?”
“It’s... at the... library.” his laboured breathing forcing him to stutter. “The princesses said they wanted you there as soon as possible.”
Taylor looked back to Stivers, eyebrow raised. Stivers shrugged.
Captain Sword trotted towards Twilight. The guards, who encircled the now prisoners of war, forced them to move forward as well.
“Miss Sparkle, we will escort you and the Elements... and these things,” The Captain said, gesturing towards the humans, “to the library as well.”
“Captain, do you know what’s going on? You don’t seemed very perturbed by this whole situation.” Twilight’s voice betrayed her concern.
“It doesn’t concern you Miss Sparkle.” The captain kept his tone professionally neutral, with only a small scowl adorning his face.
That definitely caught Stivers’ attention. If they knew about us, how come we’ve never seen or heard about talking ponies before? I thought America knew everyone...
Pinkie bounced towards Twilight, oblivious to the guards who were trying to restrain her. “Maybe Princess Celestia sent you on this mission for a reason Twilight! Maybe she already knew about these talking apes but doesn’t want you to know too much?”
Rainbow Dash wasn’t far behind the pink mare. “Pinkie, that’s as crazy as playing a game of doubles with five ponies.”
How do they even play tennis?
“Yah Pinkie,” Twilight retorted, “That doesn’t make any sense. If Princess Celestia knew about something like this, she would have told me.”
The small lizard spoke up, irritation arose in his voice, “Twilight, c’mon! The Princesses are waiting!”
Twilight froze. “You mean they’re at the library? Spike! Why didn’t you tell us that? Come on Captain, we need to move!”
“Company, double time!” Captain Sword shouted, the war ponies moving faster now, pushing the humans along with them. Silence fell over the group as they resumed their journey towards Ponyville, broken only by the sounds of laboured breathing, and both boots and hooves making contact with the cobblestone road.
The guards were on edge as the group approached the little hamlet, eyes constantly flickering back and forth, searching for pedestrians that might get the wrong idea. When one such incident occurred, an aquamarine unicorn who was practically prancing about the circle of guards trying to get a better look, had been shushed away to a small unassuming house by Rainbow Dash.
As the group approached what appeared to be the town center, they came to a halt outside a giant tree. Stivers looked about, noticing very little through the pegasi blockade. The next moment, the five humans were being ushered towards a door built into the trunk of the tree.
The door was smaller than what the humans were used to, and Stivers knew he would have to duck. The warm air from the library flooded out to meet the soldiers as a purple glow enveloped the door, pushing it open. Gallivan entered first, moving off to the left, then followed by Taylor and Stivers, still carrying Thompson. Gruebel and the six colourful ponies came in after, their order unknown to Stivers as he straightened up in surprise, the wide open space of the library offering the pilots enough room to stand upright. His awareness of the space around him fled abruptly and Stivers stared in shock at the white being in front of him.
Much larger than the other ponies, the slender figure met his gaze evenly, a multi-coloured swirl of pastel mane and tail flowing steadily despite the lack of a breeze to stir the air. Immense wings were spread out to either side of her form, and she looked poised to launch into flight at any instant. Unlike the smaller pegasi in the room however, she bore a gleaming silver horn on her brow, light sparkling and corsucating around its length. The whole effect lent her with an air of dignity and authority, and Stivers felt like he'd just been called into his air group commander's office after screwing up royally on maneuvers.
Why do I have a feeling, like everything is about to go downhill?
"Come, sit down." The white alicorn’s eyes held each of them in turn for a moment. "We have much to discuss."
A/N: Hey all, GoldenArbiter here, I have some good news! Ty is sort of back again. He should be helping me write for the next little bit. Anyway, I conformed the story to some of the new rules and streamlined the characters, and well, I can't think of anything else.
I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I hope it was worth the wait.
“Before we discuss anything, this man is badly injured and needs medical attention.” Stivers’ commanded, trying to make himself look as powerful as possible.
“Very well,” The white princess’ silky voice weaved through the air. “We shall send him to the nearby medical centre.”
Stivers glanced around the room, taking in the long walls full of books, the tables full of opened books, the ponies arranged around him all bowing, faces hugging the floor. Hmm... I should know the protocol for meeting foreign royalty. Oh wait, Stivers nodded his head in the direction of the princess, I don’t care right now.
“Rise my subjects.” her voice soothed.
Captain Sword took the time to sneak up behind Stivers, “Show respect to the princess, before I make you.” his whisper just as malevolent as his voice.
“Golden Sword. Stay your tongue. They are visitors to our land, and we shall treat them as such.” the Princess then gestured to the injured Thompson, raising an eyebrow at the same time.
“I would much rather him not leave my sight, your majesty.” Stivers’ voice was laced with acid.
“I understand your concern. I will arrange for the nurses to be brought here.”
Compassion? Hmm. “So, since you say we are ‘guests to your land’ I assume you know what we are?”
“Yes, I do. But my real question, is why are you here?” Her brow was lowered in an almost hostile manor.
“Why are we here? I don't even know where the fuck ‘Here’ is!”
Golden Sword was on him in an instant, “You will watch your tongue when addressing the Princess!”
Taylor took up the slack from Stivers, “Oh shut it, Goldy. We want answers!” Taylor and Stivers lowered the unconscious Thompson onto a nearby table.
“You are begging to be taught a lesson here, whelp!” Golden’s face now mere inches from Taylor’s.
Taylor responded with a quick headbutt, stumbling the now dazed pony back a few feet. Shadow and Star were on Taylor, holding him down. Stivers threw himself into the pile of bodies, trying to rip the assailants off of Taylor.
“All of you,” The new voice cut across the air like angry velvet. “Shut up and stand down!” Midnight pushed her way between the five fighters, trying in vain to get them to stop.
By now, Golden Sword had recovered and launched himself at Taylor, trying to get revenge. A swift jab to the jaw from Stivers sent him reeling a second time.
“Tia, I made some—” A royal blue alicorn stood in the doorway, wide eyed at the display, levitating a plate of confections. The fight stopped upon hearing the new voice, as the guards all recognized it to be Luna. “lunch...”
The two humans both stopped and stared at the new figure in the doorway. Finally seeing a chance for action, Shadow gave a hard buck into the back of Taylor, who went flying into the dark alicorn, sending food and plates flying in many directions, including into the face of Luna.
Her wide eyed gaze suddenly hardened through the mixed meal spread across her face. “WHY DOST THOU CONTINUE THINE AGGRESSIONS?” Stivers was stopped by the impact of what felt like a freight train as the darker princess spoke. “THOU ART IN THE PRESENCE OF ROYALTY AND WE EXPECT THOU TO ACT AS SUCH!” Her horn glowed with righteous fury, lifting the offending buck off of his hooves, and bringing him face to face with her.
Shadows eyes shrank to mere pinpricks as he began to cower before the princess, “I... but... he—”
“We have heard enough,” her powerful voice falling to a reasonable indoor volume. “You are relieved of active duty.”
Shadow's mouth opened, then closed again abruptly. The guard straightened to attention, then turned and left the library with as much speed as the remaining shreds of his dignity would allow. Looking to Celestia, Stivers saw a very noticeable grin on her face. “Tia, it’s not funny! It took me forever to make these gala luncheons.”
Gruebel, who had a grin spanning his face, raised an eyebrow. “Gala luncheons?”
The dark alicorn turned to the newcomer, wiping assorted vegetables off of her face. “Yes. Gala luncheons. Why?”
“Well, it’s just that... you know, Gala luncheons are kind of outdated, aren’t they?”
The midnight alicorn’s face contorted into one of a challenge. “There’s naught wrong with Gala luncheons, lad. I’ve had more Gala luncheons than you’ve had hot dinners!”
“Well I doubt that. I’ve had one hot meal a day for a good twenty years.” His reply was mirthless.
“And I’ve attended at least that many plays.” Her rebuke was just as serious. Celestia’s grin only seemed to grow.
“That would mean you’re at least a few hundred years old.” His face now one of extreme doubt. “Which, mind you, is impossible.”
“Yah, if you’re saying that you’re that old, then how are you still alive?” Greubel pointed out.
“A few hundred years?” Luna stamped a forehoof hard enough to make books jump in their shelves. “For your information,” she started, pointing a wing at Celestia, ”are both thousands of ye—”
She was interrupted by that very sister. “Luna, mares don’t reveal their ages to strange males.”
“Thousands...” Greubel’s face was devoid of expression as he absorbed what the princess said. “Right. And I’m a kraut.” he deadpanned.
The pink pony bounced in front of the private with a grin that defied biology, “Oh, is that like pickled cabbage?”
“Erm, no,” Greubel responded. “A kraut is a Ger—”
A polite cough from the white princess interrupted Greubel. “I believe that we had some things to discuss?”
“Not till we have a medic here.” Stivers felt that he needed to be adamant about that.
Again fate took a turn for the convenient as two white unicorns wearing hats with red crosses rushed through the door of the library, wielding anti burn cream, and sterilization liquids. Celestia took the opportunity to show her amusement to Stivers. “You were saying, Captain?”
“I see. Fine. Where are we?” Stivers’ annoyance was clear as he muttered the question.
“You are in the land of Equestria. What are your names?” Her voice change from the mirthful tones from before to that of a hardened ruler, cutting straight to some point that only she knew.
Stivers’ eyes narrowed in defiance. “Why should we tell you? And hell, why should we trust your doctors? I’ll do the work myself.” As Stivers began moving towards the nurses, intent on taking over their job, he was stopped by one errant thought. She called me ‘Captain’.
“Because, if you would like a comfortable accommoda—” Her eyes widening as she was interrupted.
“Who the hell are you?” Stivers shouted. “I never told you my rank!” Golden Sword moved between the enraged human and his princess.
“Yah, how did you know that?” Gallivan seemed more confused than concerned, while Taylor was the opposite, eyes wide in panic.
Her eyes darted to her sister for but a second. “Those insignia on your shoulders, they’re similar to the Zebra military ranking system.”
Stivers looked at her in confusion. “You mean there are other sentient talking animals here?”
“Excuse me, but we are hardly animals.” Rarity budded in.
“And you will not speak to the princess like that.” Sword’s tone was again hard.
“Look you walking merry-go-round reject, we have been through hell and back, and I want some answers.” Stivers’ could feel his discipline slipping, anger starting to take hold. The look of fear that crept onto the two princesses faces only goaded him to continue. “Why does this shit always happen to me!”
A burst of unrepressed laughter broke the silence. "Merry-go-round reject," Rainbow Dash snickered. "I'm so stealing that one."
Celestia managed to recover before Luna, and interjected before Sword could headbutt Stivers. “My little ponies, I think it would be best if you all left. This man is right, he deserves answers.”
“But princess, these things are dangerous!” Twilight’s concern for her princess was palpable.
“As Miss Sparkle has stated, those things are dangerous and we will not leave you.” Sword dropped to a defensive stance.
“I want everypony who isn’t me, my sister, and the humans out of this library, now.” Her face again adopting the no nonsense look of a ruler who has seen everything, and then some.
The two nurses started putting down their equipment. "We’d like to take this one to the hospital, Your Highness; he needs better treatment than we can give him here."
"Certainly… with your permission, captain? We’ll let you know if his condition improves, I promise."
Stivers nodded reluctantly. "If you think you can help him… yeah, I’d appreciate it."
"I’ll send one of my troops to keep an eye on him." Golden Sword motioned with a forehoof, and as the medics began fussing over Thompson, preparing him to be moved, the rest of the ponies began filing out slowly. Twilight offered Celestia a pleading look, her form slumping in dejection as the princess shook her head.
"C’mon guys, let’s go." Rainbow shrugged and leapt into the air, soaring out through the open window of the observatory up on the top floor. The rest of the group took a more prosaic route and exited, with various nods and bows, until only Captain Sword, the princesses, and the humans remained.
“Captain Golden Sword, I asked you to leave.” The princess’ gaze could have cut through granite.
“I will not leave you, Your Majesty.” He stared at the humans, his gaze flat with distrust.
"Oh, enough. Shoo shoo shoo." Celestia's horn flared brightly, and the pilots stared, open mouthed, as the Captain floated up off the ground and out the door. His protesting voice was muffled as the door glowed and then slammed shut, emitting a low click as the lock engaged.
“How do you know what we are?” Stivers asked, “And... thanks.”
Luna’s eyebrow lifted in amusement while her sister spoke to the humans. “There are legends about your people. I made an assumption, and it seems I was right.”
“What are these legends?” Stivers’ concern growing.
“A great bipedal people with advanced technology that could do anything that a great mage could do.”
Stivers looked to the ground for a moment before looking back up. “Why did you call us here?”
Luna’s gaze hardened as she answered for her sister, “We needed to know if what Twilight said was true, because if so, then you are not from here.”
“Really? You don’t say.” Taylor’s sarcasm made Stivers cringe. He had just made some positive leeway, and that most certainly destroyed it.
“Taylor, Shut up for five minutes will you?” Taylor looked shocked that Stivers was talking to him like that. “I’m sorry erm... Your Majesties?”
Celestia frowned. “Yes. Now, I want to be frank and not insult you, as you are our guests, but I fear it might not be possible at this time, however, le—”
Luna cut in. “We don’t want you here.”
“Luna, did you just—” Celestia stared at her sister, her shock capable of powering a small town.
“Tia please, don’t sugar coat it. They’re soldiers, and they want the truth, without you buttering it up.” Stivers admired her honesty, and almost respected her bluntness.
“I hate politicians...” Greubel mumbled.
“So,” Stivers began, “since you seem to know everything, why. Are. We. Here.”
“It shouldn’t be possible that you are here,” The elder alicorn’s eyes shifted gain to her sister. “but since you are, there may be a great event on the horizon.”
“Right... And how do we leave before that?” Stivers’ anger was replaced by irritation.
“I think that you will cause it.” she responded.
Taylor raised an eyebrow in suspicion, “That’s cryptic...”
“Taylor, seriously.” Stivers’ gave Taylor a chiding look, “Snide comments, out the door. What if we do cause this... thing?”
“Everypony... Everyone, will die.” her look turning grim, the lights in the library dimming.
“Taylor, don’t even.” Taylor, whose mouth had been in the process of opening before Stivers cut him off, started pouting, while the younger alicorn snickered.
“And what if we don’t believe a word you’re saying?” Galivan asked.
Celestia, who was now clearly getting annoyed, spread her wings in a grand display of dominance. “There are two paths that you can walk, humans. You can do as I say, or you can be jailed. I have tried being nice, but you insist on throwing my good graces back into my face.” Her voice was never raised, but instead became firmer, as if she were angry with a child.
Stivers was taken aback, his eyes widening in fear, before his soldiers resolve returned. “Good graces?” he shouted, “We never even met you and you were doing nothing good for us. Hell, first thing out of your lackeys mouth was something about arresting us!” His glare could have melted steel.
Before Celestia could continue, Luna stepped up, “That was for your own safety, and you would have died if we had not warranted that.” Her calm demeanor was the direct opposite of her sisters.
Taylor approached Stivers from behind, placing a hand on the marines shoulder, “Calm down Stivers,” his voice a conspiratorial whisper, “we can still get out of this.”
Stivers took three deep breaths, “Fine. Tell us how to get home, and we won't be able to cause this disaster.”
“We need to re-open the portal.” Celestia said. “And to do that, we will need to do some research.”
“You mean you didn’t know how to do this before?” Galivan asked, incredulous.
Ignoring the comment, Luna spoke on behalf of her sister. “Stay in the library, make nice with the ponies in Ponyville. We’ll call on you when we know what you need.” The two sisters’ horns started to glow, and before anyone could get a word into question their judgement, they were gone.
“Well fuck.” Greubel’s elegant remark made Taylor snicker.
“Alright,” Stivers started. “What now?”
“Well,” Taylor suggested, “I guess now we go tell the horses th—”
“Hey! We are not horses!” Stivers jumped back from the pink blur that flew out from behind a bookshelf.
“Where in the fuck did you come from?” He yelled.
A resounding crash came from the direction of the door as Golden Sword charged through the opening, bearing the full extent of his voice, “What the buck did you do with the princesses?”
A/N: So, this chapter received a lot less attention then it should have as some of my pre readers were sick throughout the week, but I still hope it meets up to your guys' standards.
As always, feel free to point out all the things you didn't like so I can make future chapters better.
I have also realized that I am terrible at smooth dialogue transitions...
Golden Sword stared around the library, glaring at each human in turn. “You will tell me!” he shouted.
“Take that horn of yours, and stick it up your ass. We didn't do anything to your precious princesses, so lay off, ya prick.” Greubel brought his best glare up to compete with the iron faced stallion.
“Back down Greubel.” Taylor stated. “They said we needed to stay here till they got back or something like that. I wasn’t paying too much attention.”
Sword dropped his aggressive posture, but retained his wary expression. “I see.” The remainder of the ponies continued to trickle back into the library. “I suppose that she also—”
Golden Sword was interrupted by a flash of green flame, the sound of a burp, and all of the human soldiers taking cover behind various objects. “What the fuck was that?” Stivers shouted.
“Flamethrower?” Taylor hazarded, peeking around the chair he hid behind.
Captain Sword looked at the humans with bemused confusion etching across his face. “That... was dragonfire. You know, a way to instantly transport messages across great distances?”
Stivers looked out from under his table, and surely enough, the baby dragon was lying on the ground grasping his stomach, with a letter floating in the air before Twilight. “But...that’s not possible...” Stivers mumbled.
Gallivan left his hiding spot beside a shelf, “Really sir? Instant communication is the thing that you find most confusing about this place?”
Stivers felt heat rising to his face. “Er... I mean... Why—”
“Hey listen!” Twilight shouted, “I got a letter from the princess.”
“Well that was fast... I mean... she just left and all...” Taylor’s face was contorted in confusion.
Ignoring Taylor, Twilight read the letter aloud, after presumably speed reading it in her head. “My most faithful student, I had urgent business to take care of in Canterlot—”
“Urgent business my ass!” Greubel interrupted. “She just didn’t like how we whooped her ass in conversation!”
“Ahem,” Twilight cleared her throat violently, as if to say, ‘We’re all still in the room’. “May I continue?” Stivers nodded an affirmative. “Fine then.” Irritation prevalent in her voice. “Urgent business, blah blah blah, stuff you would mock us about, and, aha.” She scrunched up her eyes in concentration before letting out the most inelegant expletive of surprise any of the soldiers had ever heard.
“That... was...” Taylor began, but even his wit failed him at the moment. “Well, it definitely was.”
“The princess,” Twilight began again, only to falter a second time. “She says that you are free to, and I quote: ‘wander around Ponyville’ until she has found the ritual you need to get back...”
“What?” Stivers, Taylor, and Sword all shouted at once, simultaneously slapping an appendage to their faces. Noticing this, Greubel and Midnight Arrow laughed.
“So,” Stivers’ puzzled expression betrayed the motif of his question. “She expects us to just meander around your quaint little village, unsupervised, and not do anything bad? After, of course, she captured us for absolutely no reason.”
“Umm... I guess so.” Twilight looked just as lost as Stivers.
“I refuse to let you go around unguarded amongst the citizens of Ponyville.” The Captain stated. “If it wasn’t a direct order from Celestia, you wouldn’t even be leaving this library.”
Midnight cleared her throat and took a few steps toward the group. “Erm, it was rather indirect, don’t you think Captain? I mean... it was directed from a letter...”
“Regardless, Captain, you and your guards are dismissed from my library.” Twilight flushed as she came to the realization that the princess had blown her off. “And you humans,” she said, her voice rising angrily, “get out, too.” The horn on her forehead glowed a bright violet, and with a sudden flash, all of the room's occupants, less the bearers of the Elements, found themselves outside.
“Huh. Now what?” Stivers asked as the door to the library shut behind them, leaving only four humans, and five armoured pegasi looking about in confusion.
“Well, now we—” The Captain narrowed his eyes as the familiar voice of a mint green unicorn interrupted him.
“Oh... My... Celestia! They’re here!” Her smile took up most of her face as she galloped to the humans, oblivious as the captain turned to block her advance.
“Not so fast citizen, This is property of the Royal Guard of—” The captain’s explanation didn’t get very far as Gallivan tackled the Captain.
“We are not your property!” Gallivan yelled through clenched teeth, the Captain momentarily stunned.
Shadow took the opportunity to jump on Gallivan, taking him off of the Captain, while Crimson took up a defensive position near Sword.
Taylor and Stivers grabbed the errant buck atop their friend by his armoured collar and hauled him off. “Everyone just calm the fuck down!” Taylor shouted. Stivers still held the struggling guard while Taylor eyed Gallivan closely. “What the hell was that?”
“I am no one's property.” His voice hardened as he stared at Golden Sword, then at Shadow. “I am a legal citizen of the United States of America, which is a free land, and I am no one’s slave!” As he shouted the last of his sentiment, he started walking away towards a small apple orchard in the distance.
Midnight Arrow flew in front of the Marine, a concerned look in her eyes. “We would never presume to own somepo... er, someone.” Gallivan simply walked past the well-meaning pegasus without a reply, eyes still slitted in anger. She turned to follow his movement, looking at him unhappily. “Sir, please stop. If you don’t stop, I will detain you. I want to be nice though.”
Gallivan stopped, took three deep breaths, and turned to face the gold clad stallion. “You will never own me.” he stated, pointing a finger at Sword. Beside them, the amber eyed unicorn who had set everything off now stood forgotten for the moment, staring at the offending appendage in awe while apparently oblivious to the conversation around her.
Behind the raving Gallivan, stood a crowd of ponies who had been minding their own business until the humans were thrown from the library. Stivers released Shadow as Sword moved to address the crowd. “Return to your business, everypony. There is nothing to see here.”
Nopony moved.
“This is a matter of the Royal Guard of Canterlot. You will vacate the premises immediately or be incarcerated under royal law.” The various ponies scattered, going out of their way to look busy while still remaining in earshot of the strange creatures.
“You have hands...” The mint unicorn stated in a dream-like trance.
Gallivan looked over to the mare who was now close enough to be a fashion accessory. “You heard the Captain, piss off,” he hissed, his face hardening again.
“Alright Gallivan,” Stivers said, anger in his voice, “What the hell is wrong with you? I have never seen you act so outright... hostile. Ever!”
Gallivan turned away from the nonplussed unicorn, looking Stivers in the eyes. Gallivan was pleading, begging for his commander to drop the subject with that look.
Stivers complied, diverting the question to Captain Sword. “So, what do we do while we wait?”
The Captain's eyes lit up in surprise. “What do you mean, do?”
“You know...” Stivers replied. “Around here? We're here till the Queen says we can go... right?”
“Princess. And yes. I guess you are...” Sword looked around at his assorted guards. He was left with Shining Star, Midnight Arrow, Shadow, and Crimson Hoof. “Where are the rest of my troops, Sub El-Tee Arrow?”
“Erm...” She floundered. “I... The Princess told me to dismiss them. She gave me a letter and everything!” Under the gaze of Golden Sword, Midnight fell on her haunches.
“Give me that letter, Arrow.” Sword’s order was flat and toneless, giving away nothing.
Shakily, she retrieved the letter from a saddlebag on her armour.
As Golden Sword read over the letter, Taylor was looking at the saddle bag in complete confusion. “How do you do that?” he asked dumbly.
“Do what?” she retaliated.
“Live with having to reach over your back when need anything. I mean really...that has to be inconvenient.” His confusion never left him.
“Well, I’ve been a pegasus pony all of my life, so... I guess I’m just used to it?”
“Huh. What’s it like having wings anyway?”
Stivers noted the two lieutenants chatting, and looked back to Sword, who was now looking at the letter in shock.
“Well?” Stivers asked.
“It says that we’re to escort you all around town, so you can get a feel for ‘the environment’. This assignment is ridiculous.” Sword deadpanned.
“You’re telling me.” Stivers mumbled.
Sword glared at Stivers, then looked quickly amongst his squad. Arrow was talking with Taylor, both Hoof and Star were watching over the brooding Gallivan, and Shadow was chatting with Greubel.
“Guards!” Sword shouted, all conversation ceasing as both species stood at attention. “You all seem to have already found a buddy, so go and show them around the town, as per the Princess’ orders.”
“Sir, is that such a good idea?” Star said, looking at Gallivan.
“Not in the slightest.” Sword replied ominously. “But the Princesses have never failed us before so we shall...trust them again.” The last of his words had lost his earlier passion, and he let out a loud sigh of annoyance.
“Well that was unexpected.” Taylor said, realizing it was not himself that was being addressed. “Maybe we can get some food. I’m starving,” he said, patting his stomach.
“Um... I guess we let him do what he wants?” Corporal Hoof finished.
“So... What do you want to do then?” Star asked the human.
Gallivan stared blankly at the pair of pegasi, he turned and again started walking towards the apple farm.
“I guess we go to Sweet Apple Acres then?” Hoof inquired, trotting beside Star as they stayed wary of the visitor, whom continued to ignore them.
After a few minutes of silent walking, Hoof cantered forward to catch up with Gallivan. “So big guy, how’s your day going?” Gallivan stopped.
“What?” he asked, staring at Hoof in complete and utter disbelief at what he had just been asked.
“You know... how have you been?” Corporal Hoof asked sincerely. Private Star face-hoofed.
“You... but...” Gallivan stuttered, still confused.
“But I...? Finish your sentence.” The Corporal said slowly, as if talking to a child.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Gallivan deadpanned.
Private Star moved to catch up, interest perked, “What’s ‘fucking’?”
"You have got to be kidding me." Gallivan looked at both guards for a moment. "Please don't make me explain this," he sighed. "Didn't your parents ever explain where little ponies come from?"
Star paused, then reddened and then placed a forehoof to his own brow, shaking his head. "Oh. Um...okay."
Hoof blinked, momentarily nonplussed. "What does that have to do with me kidding you? Which I wasn't, by the way."
Gallivan gave him a long look. “You don’t get out of the guardhouse much, do you?”
Star snickered, then clammed up as the corporal gave him a dirty look. “Ahem. As I was saying...”
“How was my day? Aside from being arrested, threatened, beaten, and generally not having a great time? Pretty fu— um, pretty darned low.”
Corporal Hoof shrugged uncomfortably. “Sorry about that....orders, you know.”
Gallivan stopped for a moment, stretching, his spine making muted popping sounds. “On that, I can agree with you, short stuff. Orders...the source of most of the problems in my life.”
“What’s your army like?” Star asked eagerly. The concept of this foreigner’s military excited him.
To the guards' surprise, Gallivan burst out laughing, a cheery, hearty sound neither pony had expected to hear from the tall human. After a moment, he straightened, wiping his eyes. "The army’s pretty sorry in my opinion, but I'll admit, I'm prejudiced. I'm a Marine, not a doggie."
“What’s a ‘Marine?’” asked Star.
“Marines do what the army does, but more and better,” Gallivan replied smoothly. This was a question he had fielded many times while on liberty, and the pride in his voice was evident to both his listeners. “We’re assault troops. We take the names, kick the butt, and move on to the next target.”
“Sounds like you’ve seen quite a bit of action, sir,” Corporal Hoof said respectfully.
Gallivan came to a total standstill. “Listen here, fella,” he said in a tight, clipped voice. “If we’re going to get along, here, you need to remember to never, ever call me ‘sir’ again. I’m a sergeant, not some dumbshit officer who thinks he knows everything.”
“Got it, Sarge,” Star replied. Both of the guards exchanged a somewhat relieved look. This was a soldier from the ranks: somebody they could understand, at least, and not some pompous ass who would demand everything brought to him on a silver platter.
“Anyway, yeah, I’ve been there and done that a few times.” Gallivan resumed his slow, even pace, the two guard ponies falling in unconsciously on either side of him and matching his stride. “I will say this though, this is a hell of a nice place you folks live in.” The Marine turned his head to watch a flight of birds swoop past them, flitting from tree to tree. “Do you live here? In this town, I mean?”
“No, we live and work in the capital of Canterlot, at the Royal Court.” Corporal Hoof took note of how adroitly the tall figure had dodged his question about battle experience, and decided not to pursue the matter. Hoof had asked the question out of politeness only; the guard had seen a skirmish or two himself, and he wasn’t much inclined to chat about the experience to somepony he’d just met, either. The three meandered off the main path, cutting through a low field toward a farm several hundred yards away. “The town itself is named Ponyville, and we’re familiar with some of the residents, but that’s about it.”
Gallivan frowned. “Canterlot?” The name sounded vaguely familiar, for some absurd reason. “So this is just a temporary duty station, huh?”
“Oh, you have those, too?” Star was delighted once again. “I got stationed in Fillydelphia once, and there was this one mare...”
Corporal Hoof groaned. “Oh Celestia, not this story again.”
Star offered a wounded expression, and Gallivan motioned to continue. This sounded like it had the makings of a good sea story, after all. The three continued walking slowly, passing under the shade of a large apple tree at the edge of an orchard.
“Anyway, I was on leave, and trying to ask for directions, and there was this one mare, oh, you should have seen the mane she had! Well, I walked up to her, trying to look all young and pitiful—”
“Star, you are young. And pitiful,” Hoof interrupted.
The other guard began a retort, but their conversation was abruptly cut off by a screech that set the teeth on edge. “What in tarnation are y’all doin in my apple orchard?!” The three looked over to see a small, green pony of advanced age glaring at them openly. “Helllp! Thieves! Thieves in th’ apples!”
Corporal Hoof stepped forward. “No ma’am, we’re not thieves, honest!”
The sound of heavy hoofbeats approaching filled the air, and a reddish pony, much larger than any of the others Gallivan had yet seen appeared, trotting up to stand next to the oldster who still stood staring at them, her expression dubious at best. “Well who are ye, then? Speak up, now!”
The red pony offered them an equally stern expression. “Eeyup,” he offered laconically.
“Well, we, that is, I...um.” Hoof backed up a step, and then glanced helplessly at Gallivan.
“Christ,” the Marine sighed, “sometimes I hate shore leave.”
Shadow and Gruebel had paired off rather accidentally, and at the Captain’s command they had obligingly wandered off, each holding to the old military maxim that orders were orders, even if they made no damned sense at all. They had wandered aimlessly for several minutes, with Shadow quietly shooing away anypony who ventured too close, but Gruebel made the task more difficult by repeatedly changing direction, seemingly at random.
Several turns and one dead-end alley later, they both came to the realization that they had each been trying to follow the other, both also following the much older maxim that you were never actually lost as long as you didn’t admit to being lost.
“Where are we going?” Shadow finally asked.
Gruebel eyed the familiar-looking intersection ahead with suspicion. “I have no clue, anywhere away from that asshole Sword, or whatever his name is.”
“Captain Golden Sword; and he may be tough, but he’s a great leader” the pegasus said proudly.
“Sure...”
“How about we head over to Carousel Boutique?”
“What's that? A night club?”
“Uh, no.” Shadow stared at him as if he’d gone insane. “It’s a famous fashion shop that sells-”
“Fashion? Hell no,” Gruebel interrupted.
“Oh come on, you're going to need something other than... whatever that is your wearing.”
“It’s a jumpsuit, used by pilots like me.”
“What’s a pilot?” Shadow asked.
Gruebel blinked. “It’s somebody who flies planes.” He stuck his arms out straight and waggled them. “Zoooom, you know?”
“Wait, you things can fly? But I thought only pegasi like me could.”
“We don’t fly like you do, heck, I don’t even know if those wings work,” Gruebel said, pointing to Shadow’s wings.
“Well, time to prove it.”
Shadow extended his wings and flew straight up into the sky, leaving a cloud of dust behind. He flew around in circles, did a few loops, and finally skirted to a stop in front of Gruebel who was speechless.
“Well?” Shadow asked.
“Damn, you really can fly,” Gruebel said in amazement.
“Thanks, I practice when I can.”
“Heh,” Gruebel chuckled. “So do I...that’s kinda the reason I’m in this mess, I guess. I was on a training flight when...well, when whatever happened to us, happened.”
Shadow was moved by the forlorn tone in the human’s voice. “Don’t worry. If there’s a way to fix everything, the princess will find it. You can trust me on that.”
“Well. We’ll see, I guess.” Gruebel looked down at his companion. “You know, for a flying, talking pony who’s tried to kick my ass more than once over the past twenty-four hours, , you're not that bad.”
Shadow digested that one for a moment. “Thanks, I think.”
Gruebel examined the guard’s gleaming armour, and then looked down at his own grubby jumpsuit. “You know what? You're right, I might as well get some new clothes, or at least get this cleaned.” He sniffed and grimaced. “Soon.”
Shadow beamed, inwardly grateful that he didn’t have to bring up the delicate point. “Come on, I saw it from the air. It’s this way.”
Shadow and Gruebel walked for a little bit, turning a corner now and then until they came upon a three story purple and pink building.
“Well” said Grubel. “If it were a nightclub, it would be terrible.”
Shadow snickered at the joke. The two walked through the entrance, with Gruebel ducking carefully to avoid braining himself on the doorjamb. From overhead, a bell jingled, the sound striking Gruebel with a palpable pang of homesickness; in some ways, this place was too close to his own world by half.
A melodious voice floated out to them from a nearby doorway. “Welcome to Carousel boutique, where everythi- oh, it’s that thing!” The white pony with the horn on her forehead and the purple mane stared at Gruebel with obvious disdain. “I don’t have time for a ruffian like you, get out.”
“Please stand down Miss Rarity, he’s with me,” Shadow said.
Gruebel scanned the inside of the building: dresses and fabric were displayed on the walls of the shop, and almost every one of them had gems decorating them, glittering viciously in the sunlight that streamed through the main window.
Probably fake, he thought to himself.
“Ugh, fine, what can I help you with, uhh, what was your name?”
“Private Robert P. Gruebel” he said, standing at attention.
“Right... I’m Rarity, future world designer!” she said proudly. “Now what can I help you with?”
“Well since I’m going to stuck here for a while, I thought I needed some new clothes-”
“Yes!” Rarity yelled, leaping forward with measuring tape and fabric. “Ok what would you like? Something flashy? Something classy? Or maybe-”
“Woah, woah, easy now” Gruebel said, stepping away. Shadow who was sitting in a chair, just laughed. “All I need is a simple shirt or two, shorts, and my jumpsuit cleaned.” His eyes wandered back to the precious stones applied liberally to every garment in sight. “Oh, and no fake gems.”
“Fake?” Rarity gasped. “These gems aren't fake, I only use real gems straight out of the ground.”
“There’s no way those are real, in my world gems rarely get bigger than an apple,” Gruebel said, using his hands to show size.
“Well I assure you, darling, that these are real.”
“Whatever, just don’t use any in my clothes.”
“Oh fine, I just need some measurements and I’ll start right away,” Rarity said. The horn on her forehead glowed a bright azure, and the measuring tape lying on the desk next to her matched its glow. It shot over to Gruebel and did a rapid dance about him, unreeling this way and that.
"How very odd," she muttered. "Still, we can work with this. Please have a seat, and don't...touch anything," she sniffed, eyeing his coveralls with a shudder. "I'll have something for you in a tiff!" The measuring tape shot back over to the desk and landed in an untidy heap, the glow fading. The unicorn turned and trotted up a staircase out of sight, reciting the numbers under her breath.
“Ugh, women,” Gruebel signed before taking a seat next to Shadow.
“I know what you mean, that’s why I never got married,” Shadow said. “So what do you think of Equestria so far?”
Gruebel looked blank. "What's Equestria?"
Shadow returned the expression. "This is. I mean, that's what we call our land."
The Marine digested that information for a moment. “It’s a whole new world, a very colorful one,” he said diplomatically. “And it takes a little getting used to.” The expression on Shadow’s face showed that this wasn’t the response he’d hoped for. Gruebel tried a different tack. “Hey, at least I got somebody to show me around.”
Shadow grinned at this. “Yeah you're not half bad either.”
The two fell into a discussion about flight, the one subject that most easily connected them, and the conversation rapidly became a one-up contest about who had flown through the worst weather. Gruebel was motioning with both hands and describing the storm the human pilots had encountered just before arriving...well, wherever here was, when they heard Rarity's hooves descending the stairs.
“Ok,” Rarity said, levitating a few items. “I have a couple of plain shirts and a couple of shorts. And now for your jumpsuit.”
Rarity’s horn glowed once again, and with a bright flash, Gruebel’s jumpsuit was completely clean.
Gruebel tugged and pulled it, surprised at what had happened. “You know what? I’ve seen enough strange things today to last a lifetime, I won’t question this.” He fumbled around his pockets moment, then looked at Rarity, his face turning red. “Uh, I don’t have any money, or even know if you use money.”
“Oh it’s on me darling, I always love to design something new!” Rarity said. “Just remember to tell everypony where you got your fabulous...plain...well, at least be sure to give me a reference, hmmm?”
“Well ok, thanks.”
“Goodbye, darling.”
Grubel crouched down once more as he and Shadow walked outside into the sunny afternoon. "I take it back. If that's what a clothing store is like around here, I don't even want to know what a nightclub looks like."
Midnight Arrow glanced over the form of the tall human that stood beside her, then cast a wistful glance back at the closed door of the library. She couldn’t help but wish that Fluttershy was here with them; the yellow pegasus seemed to have a depth of understanding that brought out the best in a pony, and if ever Midnight needed help understanding someone, now was the time.
Get a grip on yourself, girl. Are you going to go running to her every time you have a problem that needs solving?
She took a deep breath, and turned back to the human. "So, um, you said you were hungry?"
Taylor, who had been bemusedly looking over the upper floors of Twilight’s library, started. "Oh, yeah, definitely." He glanced around, frowning. "You have a café or something around here? I mean, what do horses, ponies, whatever you are, do for lunch?"
"Usually, we go to a café, or something," Midnight replied dryly. "Unless you’d prefer to go out in a nearby field and just chow down on some grass?"
Taylor blinked. "That wasn’t my first choice, no."
"Mine, either. I’ve done it before, on exercises, but I’d prefer a hay sandwich any day of the week." Midnight was surprised at how smooth and normal her voice sounded, and she reminded herself that the tall fellow in front of her was completely out of his own element and likely more nervous than she was by far. "Sound good to you?"
"A sandwich sounds great. Just maybe not hay."
"Suit yourself." If he wanted to eat a dandelion club sandwich instead and get indigestion, that was his business. Midnight turned and began to walk slowly down the street; she glanced down idly as if looking at an interesting insect on the path, and noted that Taylor was obligingly following along. Good. "So…if we’re going to have lunch together, would you mind a proper introduction? Between the name-calling, cursing, angst and general mayhem since we met, I haven’t figured out what to call any of you."
She was inwardly pleased to see him blush slightly; her instinct had been correct. This had been the one who had spoken to Fluttershy on the way back from that first disastrous meeting, and if anything, he seemed to have a well-developed sense of propriety.
"Yeah, um…sorry about the language." He shrugged. "We get a bit salty sometimes when we’re under pressure. It’s kind of an occupational hazard of being in the Navy, I guess."
"Ah, you’re in a naval militia, then? I’ve heard of them, but never met anypony who belonged to one before."
"Um, no. The United States Navy. We have thousands of ships and hundreds of thousands of sailors." Taylor’s professional pride was showing. "It’s a little bit more than a militia, ma’am."
"Fascinating," Midnight said. "And when they ask you to sail to this place or that, do they call you anything other than ‘Hey, You?’"
He laughed, the sound light and pleasant, causing several heads to turn and look at them curiously. "I’ve definitely been called worse things. My apologies." He stopped and came to attention. "Lieutenant Charles Taylor, United States Navy Reserve."
Midnight nodded professionally. "Always pleased to meet a fellow officer, sir. I am Sub-lieutenant Midnight Arrow, Cloud Section Leader, Second Company of the Canterlot Royal Guard, at your service."
Taylor’s eyebrows arched. "Damn, that’s a helluva mouthful. Royal Guard? I don’t feel as bad now, at least we got captured by somebody important."
"We do what we can," Midnight replied modestly. "For brevity’s sake, please call me Midnight. Or Lieutenant, if you want to stand on formality."
"I don’t think rank protocol is going to be a picky issue right now," Taylor said, an odd smile on his face. "Midnight it is, then. Call me Taylor; Charles is my given name, but I’m used to being Taylor." The crooked smile vanished, and his expression turned abruptly stricken.
"What’s wrong?"
"Just thinking about the rest of my squadron back home. They probably wonder where the hell I am. Shit, I wonder where the hell I am. What am I doing here?"
"Language, Lieutenant." Midnight nodded at a couple of fillies who were peeking out at them from behind a large fountain in the town square ahead. "Mind the children." The human immediately clapped a hand to his mouth and turned bright red, and Midnight couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his distress.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"No harm done, I believe." Midnight motioned with a foreleg and they began moving slowly forward, into the press, hustle and bustle that was Ponyville during a business day. "Why and how you’re here, I can’t tell you, Mr. Taylor. However, what you’re doing here is simple. You’re going to have lunch with a lady who’s about ready to eat the flowers off of a cheap, two-bit hat if she doesn’t get a sandwich in her soon."
Taylor, who had been gawping at a nearby fruit stand, came to a stop again, clapping a hand to one leg. "Sh…uh, I mean, shoot. I don’t have anything to pay with, Midnight."
She feigned shock. "Take a lady out to eat and then stiff her with the bill? What kind of officer and gentlecolt are you, Taylor?"
"No, no, it’s not that, I swear! We don’t fly with any mo…" He broke off. "Officer and what?"
"I’m just twisting your tail, Taylor. So to speak." Midnight giggled and shook herself slightly, the small saddlepack she wore emitting a soft jingling noise. "I don’t carry a pile of money around on operations either, but I do have enough to buy lunch for myself and a guest."
Taylor raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, your treat." He shook his head. "Thank God I’m not one of your troops. You fight dirty, lady."
"And I rarely lose," she replied agreeably. "Ah, that looks like a good spot." Midnight changed direction and angled toward a small outdoor restaurant off to one side of the main square. Taylor followed close behind her, casting nervous glances about him at the ponies on every side: ponies arguing over prices, hawking wares such as clothing, food, ornaments, and every other thing you could think of…it looked practically like a small town back home on a Saturday, except for the bewildering multicolored hues of talking ponies. The crowd around him peered back at him with just as much interest, and he overheard several remarks about his height, his clothes, his strange accent. News from Captain Sword had gotten around fast, however, and he was never confronted directly. Staring was apparently in open season, though, and he felt his ears burn.
He came to a halt, staring open-mouthed at a newspaper stand. There seemed to be a variety of publications on display, and his eyes moved over the headline of what appeared to be a popular tabloid titled "Cantertainment Weekly."
Octavia! Is she a tortured soul who pours out her immortal longings into dignified passages of stately music, or is she just a silly poof who writes tunes? Answers INSIDE!
A picture on the cover showed a pony with a forbidding expression, dark, flowing hair and wearing what appeared to be a bowtie while playing a cello. Taylor rubbed his face and turned away, breaking into a jog to catch up with Midnight Arrow.
"Here we go!" Midnight took a seat at a low table, settling herself comfortably on a clump of hay that seemed to stand in for a chair. Taylor stared for a moment, and then sat down on the matching clump across from her, wincing as he heard it crackle under his weight.
"Relax, silly, that’s what it’s there for."
"Right." After a moment or two, a buff colored pony wearing a white-collared shirt edged hesitantly over to them, placing two menus on the table. "G-Good afternoon," he managed to stammer out. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"Sarsaparilla, please." Midnight picked up the menu absently out of habit, fairly certain of what she wanted to eat, but checking over the specials just in case.
"And y-you, sir?"
"Just water, thanks." Taylor had never wanted a beer so badly in his life, but he felt alcohol might be a bad idea right now. A very bad idea. As the waiter moved hurriedly off, Taylor looked sharply up at Midnight. "Wait. You have soda pop?"
Midnight looked briefly up at him over the edge of her menu, her expression patient. "Yes, Lieutenant. We also invented the wheel a short while ago, as I recall."
"Okay, okay." Taylor sighed and picked up the menu. The first few entrees on the list made him freeze up again, and it was only with a heroic effort that he suppressed the first words that threatened to jump out of his mouth. Hay bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich? Dandelion Club Classic? Hay fries?? His stomach and brain both began to debate the wisdom of this venture.
The waiter returned with their drinks, then produced a pad. "Are you ready to order yet?"
"I’ll take the hay sandwich special, light on the sauce, please." Midnight closed her menu and handed it over to the waiter as he busily scribbled down her order. "How about you, Taylor?"
Taylor’s eyes frantically scanned over the offerings before him. A few seconds of silence passed, and the waiter, mistaking the lieutenant’s reticence for indecision, spoke up hesitantly. "Perhaps the—"
“Do you serve any form of meat here?” Taylor interrupted.
“You eat meat?” Midnight’s eyes were wide as saucers as she took in the new information. “Dear Celestia...”
“Don’t worry Midnight,” Taylor looked to the armoured pegasus, wary of scaring the only guard who hadn’t tried to hit him yet. “Humans are omnivores, meaning we can eat both meat and greens.”
The waiter, whose eyes matched Midnight’s in size, timidly pointed to the front of the menu before Taylor. Boldly emblazoned on the front in big letters was what appeared to be the café’s motto. This is a vegetarian restaurant — we serve no meat of any kind. We're not only proud of that, we're smug about it.
“Oh...” Taylor said as he continued looking through the menu.
Another minute passed by in silence as Taylor scanned through the menu, the two nearby ponies too afraid to ask him anything.
"Oh thank God!" Taylor shouted, causing several heads to turn. The waiter jerked back, his pad flying off the table and nearly knocking the water glass over. "I’ll have the house salad!"
"E-Excellent choice, s-s-sir," the waiter stammered. Seizing his order book from the ground, he took their menus and beat a hasty retreat toward the kitchen as Taylor grinned triumphantly at Midnight.
The sub-lieutenant arched an eyebrow at him. "Really like your greens, hmm?"
As Stivers watched his comrades and their odd body guards walk off in their various directions, he gave out a long sigh.
“Well then Captain, what do we do now?” Stivers asked the still irritated Sword.
“I guess now I give you a tour of the village.” His irritation quickly became a grimace as he too let out a long sigh. “This is the town library, as well as personal abode of Miss Twilight Sparkle, prodigy of our loving and benevolent empress.”
“I can’t help but notice the sarcasm there.” Stivers stated.
“Seems your perceptive abilities don’t need any work.” Sword retorted.
“I need good eyes to be a pilot.” Stivers commented as they walked towards a house that appeared to made of candy.
“What’s a pilot?” the Captain asked.
“It’s a guy who flies planes.” Stivers replied, nonplussed.
“And those flaming metal contraptions you were camped around when we found you are ‘planes’?” Sword raised an eyebrow, as he stopped before the candied building.
“The ones that didn’t turn into scrap metal on impact, yes.” Guided tour or not, Stivers still considered himself in enemy territory, at least for the moment, and he wasn’t about to divulge any technical information if he could help it. Changing the subject, he stopped and pointed. “Please tell me this building isn’t edible.”
“No, you barbarian, it’s a bakery,” Captain Sword snapped. “Haven’t you ever heard of theming?” He caught himself and took a long, slow breath.
“So,” Stivers said in a dull monotone. “This is a themed bakery?” Sword nodded his head in affirmation. “What’s the theme?”
“Uh,” Sword looked towards the top of the building, eyeing the candy like structures. “I think it’s for—”
“Wrong!” Stivers and Sword jumped at the sudden appearance of the pink pony. “It’s theme is delicious is what it is!”
Stivers and Sword shared a glance, neither sure if what to make of the pink blur that was bouncing faster then their eyes could follow.
“Oh, you should come in I baked all kinds of delicious muffins and cupcakes and, Oh! I haven’t thrown you a welcome to Equestria party yet have I? Oh I am so sorry—”
Stivers starred in mute horror as the small pink machine spoke at a seemingly impossible rate, not once stopping to take a breath.
“—and there will flour and pin the tail on the pony and—”
Stivers leaned over to the pegasi Captain, “Is this normal behavior?” he asked in a hushed voice, so as to avoid offending the pink pony.
“No... I don’t know what this is...” Sword responded in kind. “But from what I know about the Elements of Harmony, she is the manifestation of laughter. So...”
“So... what?” Stivers concern was splayed across his face.
“You familiar with the term BUBAR?” concern mirrored with the pegasi.
“No... it sounds familiar though...” Stivers stopped to listen in on Pinkie’s rambling.
“—and then there will be cake and streamers and—”
“It means Bucked up beyond all relief.” he stated plainly, “That’s what this is.”
“Bucked up beyond...” Stivers concern made way for confusion. “Oh!” he exclaimed, “We have a similar term, assuming ‘bucked’ means ‘we’re screwed.’”
“Yah. Yah it does.”
“So what do we do?”
“We take it like stallions, and hope for the best.” Sword stated plainly.
“We... what? No! There has to be a better way!” Stivers pleaded.
“No, she outranks me, and gave a direct order.” the fear in his eyes told Stivers that he did not want to go in with her.
“—and then they put a bag on my head and threw me in the trunk of the carriage again! After a while, we got back to Ponyville and they threw me out! I mean, how rude is that?” The pink chatter box was staring at them intently, clearly expecting an answer.
“Yah,” Stivers answered, the first of the two to pick their jaws up. “How very rude of them... I can’t believe they would do that... thing.”
“Most unpleasant indeed Miss Pinkie Pie.” Sword took up the slack where Stivers had faltered.
“I totally know right?” she answered while working her hooves around the necks of both pony and human and dragging them into sugar cube corner.
“Stivers,” Captain Sword looked to Stivers, eyes filled with fear, “If I don’t make it, tell my squad that they—”
“Don’t worry man, I got your back so long as you do the same for me.” Stivers was vaguely aware of being dragged into the kitchen of the establishment, but he was too busy trying to fight his way out of the pink ponies impossibly strong grasp.
“Alright, dea—”
“We’re here!” the pink pony had interrupted, dropping both of them in the pitch black area surrounding them. As pinkie fled into the darkness, the sound of knives being sharpened was all that was heard throughout the dark.
“Ours is FUBAR.”
A/N This chapter has finally taken history, and thrown it out the window. Mostly because information on the F19 crew is so sparse... Anyway I am taking historical license with some of the crew and their past.
Another thing, Thanks so much to my editors, who helped me to finish this chapter with a little more beyond just a spell check. Thanks, guys.
Another thing, I am going to be changing up the character tags again, removing the main 6. To be fair, they're playing a support role for the most part, and I don't want to decieve anyone.
Another thing, I really like saying 'Another thing'.
Also, The story will be moving into the adventure part soon. don't worry guys.
Sorry about the delay, but hey, at least I told you guys about it, right?
The sudden appearance of a bright light and hundreds of hues of colours made Stivers jump for cover behind a nearby table.
“Surprise!” the assorted equines yelled.
Looking from behind his cover, Stivers noticed that Taylor, Gallivan, and Gruebel were all present, the latter of which looked just as concerned and surprised as himself.
“What just happened?” Gruebel shouted as Stivers noticed he was in no real danger.
“Well silly,” Pinkie said as she started cutting a nearby cake into slices. “Since you said you wouldn’t make it here on time, I brought you and that silly filly Shadow here!”
Gruebel looked to his travel companion who had passed out on the floor. “I’m almost afraid to ask this, but how?”
The large mass of ponies seemed to be mingling now, the major surprise portion done, so Stivers made his way over to the punch bowl. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, it’s better not to ask, Gruebel.” He picked up a plastic cup, started to ask how a pony was going to hold it, and quickly followed his own advice. “Grab some snacks, we’ve earned them, I think.”
Stivers looked around at the other ponies, all holding various cups, filled with various drinks. The pink pony however, had a red bottle. Beside her was Gallivan, who was getting her to pour a generous helping into a cup similar to his own.
Filling his own cup with a red liquid, he saw the label on the bottle that the pink pony was pouring. He couldn’t read the writing, but he could definitely see the universal skull and crossbones of a toxic substance.
Dropping his cup, Stivers ran to intercept Gallivan before the substance could hit his lips, but stumbled over the assorted mass of ponies. “No!” he yelled, causing everyone in the room to look at his horror stricken eyes.
As Gallivan put the cup to his lips, the viscous liquid ran into his mouth. After one swallow, he coughed, and Stivers yelled again. Most of the party had stopped at this point, all to stare at the horror struck Captain, while Golden Sword moved to check on him.
“That has quite the kick, Pinkie.” Gallivan said, exhaling a large breath of air. “What’s in that?”
“Ghost chilies!” the earth pony screamed with delight.
Ghost chilies? Stivers thought. “Are you drinking hot sauce?” he yelled.
“No silly! It’s whiskey.” She stated with glee.
“Whiskey?” Stivers deadpanned. “Whiskey? Seriously? You put hot peppers in whiskey?” he stated in disbelief.
“You don’t?” she asked, just as incredulous.
“Who in their right mind puts—” The entire party ground to a halt once more as a brilliant flash lit the room. Blinking rapidly as his vision cleared, Stivers was able to make out Twilight Sparkle’s form. “Christ, don’t you ever use the door?”
“I was in a hurry,” she snapped. The horn on her brow glowed a soft shade of lavender, and a rolled-up scroll lifted out of the saddlepack she had slung over her shoulders. “I figured you might want to see this, since it’s practically addressed to you, anyway.”
Gallivan eyed the floating message sourly. “Lemme guess. Another joy-filled note from the Glorious Leader?”
“You got it,” Twilight grated. “Looks like I’m the new mailpony now.” She glanced over at a smoke-grey mare with a blonde mane who had frozen in apparent shock at the punchbowl. “Just a joke, I’m not serious.”
Stivers followed her gaze and did a double-take at the grey mare who smiled and went on helping herself to a glass of punch. Her eyes were focussed in two separate directions, neither of which was on the glass she was filling, but she pulled off the operation without spilling a drop and headed off toward a plate overflowing with muffins. The glowing scroll interposed itself in front of him, cutting the sight short, and he reached up and plucked it out of the air. The other pilots began to drift over towards him as he unrolled it, stopping short at the salutation. “Hey, you sure this is the right letter? It’s got your name on it.”
“Go ahead,” Twilight said. “I’ve already read it. Like I said, it’s mostly for you, anyway.”
“Okay.” He cleared his throat and began to read out loud. “‘Dear Twilight. I am happy to announce that I have found what I was looking for. Or at least, something that will serve. It will involve some preparation on the part of our guests, both mentally and physically, but I will not bore you with the details right now.’
“‘I hope all is well and that our guests have learned something of the magic of friendship in my absence. Tell Captain Stivers and Captain Sword that neither of them is as much of a...’” He paused, frowning. “I have no idea what this word is.”
Twilight managed a small, quirky smile. “It’s an archaic word in Traditional Canterlot. It’s a polite way of saying ‘jerk.’”
Stivers reddened, and Golden Sword nearly choked on his punch. “Um. Okay. ‘not as much of a jerk as either of them thinks the other is, and they will need each other’s help in the time to come.’” The Marine frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”
Taylor leaned over, trying to peek at the letter. “Is that it?”
“No... ‘I am sending chariots for the humans to return to the castle. Once they and their escort arrive, all will be made as clear as possible. Until then, I remain gratefully yours, the Princess Celestia.’” Stivers paused a moment, glancing up from the parchment in his hands to Twilight Sparkle.
Gallivan snorted and took another shot of fiery liquor. “Hell,” he wheezed, handing the glass back to Pinkie Pie, “that made two things perfectly clear. Jack, and shit.”
Still eyeing Twilight, Stivers continued in a quieter tone. “‘P.S. I am aware that you may be disappointed that I have excluded you from my research. However, know that I do nothing without a reason, and the less you are involved in this matter, the better. I can only ask you trust me in this. You are, as always, my most beloved and faithful student. C.’”
Twilight snorted and stomped a rear hoof. “Right. Sure I am.”
Stivers rolled up the parchment carefully, then knelt down and tucked it back into the saddlepack on Twilight’s shoulders. “Sounds to me like you two have a history together.”
“Had, up until you showed up.” The unicorn scrubbed at her face angrily with a foreleg. “Do you know how hard I’ve worked, all my life, at being the best at what I do? And now I’m kicked to the side like I’m a novice who’s still working on basic spellcraft and research!”
It was Golden Sword who broke in abruptly. “Sometimes, when a captain has an excellent officer, he will assign that officer to a duty which will keep him or her out of the way.” The stallion’s armor gleamed as he rubbed over a small dent in the foreplates, studiously avoiding eye contact with anypony. “Especially when the duty promises to be extremely hazardous.”
“I’ve risked my life before to save Equestria,” Twilight said proudly. “More than once. I’m no coward, Captain.”
“Nobody said you were, little miss,” Gallivan broke in. His eyes were watery from the booze, but his voice was steady. “Have a little grace and accept the favor she’s doin’ you. Bein’ in a safe place when the shit hits the fan ain’t a bad idea.” His gaze was fixed on the far wall, on something that only he could see.
“A little inelegant, but accurate.” Sword glanced around, noting that more than a few curious looks were directed their way. “Perhaps we should continue this debate later. We’re attracting a bit of attention here, and you...fellows....do tend to stand out in a crowd.”
“So, does it say when to expect the chariots?” Gallivan asked.
“Well, where’s this Canterlot playsh?” Gruebel slurred. “Wow, thish shtuff ish shtrong.”
“Gruebel...” Gallivan began, “You’ve had like, half a glass of that stuff... And I know you aren’t a lightweight...”
“Well,” Twilight interrupted, “Canterlot is about thirty leagues away, so... an hour?”
“An hour?” Stivers said, face contorted in disbelief. “Do you know how long a league is?”
The unicorn blinked, nonplussed. “Um...a league?”
“No! I mean...crap.” Stivers face scrunched up even further. “Something like three miles. Even the horses where I come from can’t go even half that fast at a full gallop, and not for an hour straight!”
Twilight shook her head, a wry grin finally appearing on her face. “Come on, Captain. Even you know how to fly. The chariots will be drawn by pegasi, and they’ve made the trip before many times.”
Gruebel brightened at this. “This I have to see. You should’a seen the loops Shadow was doin’ earlier. That sucker can fly like nobody’s business.”
Gallivan coughed on his drink. “Um, I’d just as soon skip that demonstration if I’m riding in back of him with no parachute.”
“Really?” Shadow asked, a look of insult spread across his face. “What, you don’t trust me?”
“Not really. I mean, how many times have you tried to punch me?” Gallivan retorted.
“Whatever.” Shadow said dejectedly. “It won’t even be us pulling the things, so you’re safe.”
“Still not much of a relief—” Gallivan was interrupted as one of the nurses they had seen in the library earlier emerged from a crowd of ponies and walked up to Stivers. Besides the nurse’s cap on her brow, the large red cross on her otherwise white flank was a dead giveaway to her occupation.
“Excuse me....um, Captain?”
Stivers nodded. “Yes?”
“I’m Redheart sir, with Ponyville General. It’s about the other...well, whatever you are. Your friend, the one we admitted earlier today for treatment of his burns? His condition is...well, it’d be better if you came and looked yourself, sir.”
Almost in one motion, each of the humans put down whatever drink or plate they had been holding. “Take us there,” Taylor said in a clipped voice.
Golden Sword stood up immediately and motioned to his guards. “You’re not going alone.”
Stivers shot the captain a warning look. “I don’t care if you have orders from God, you’d better stay out of my way, buddy.”
“I have no intention of stopping you, nor would I try.” Sword met the human’s gaze, and for once there was absolutely no scorn in his voice. “I’d need to verify his condition in any case, and if things are going badly, well...” He shrugged. “A soldier is a soldier. We’re not barbarians, Captain, whatever you think of us.”
As the peculiar group of companions set out with Nurse Redheart towards the hospital, Stivers spied the mint-green unicorn they had seen earlier in the day watching them from a nearby hay bale.
“Who is that unicorn that keeps following us?” Stivers asked, nonchalantly pointing a thumb in her direction.
“That’s Lyra.” Midnight answered. “She is the local human... fanatic...”
“Wait,” Stivers stopped, halting the progression. “If you all knew about us as doombringers... why is she smiling?”
“Well, we didn’t know about you, to be honest. She...” Midnight faltered, looking for the right words to describe the human-crazed mare. “She was always different... and you being here has proven her right in one thing...”
“Well that’s just great...” Stivers said with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s just ignore her then.”
“That’s rather rude, Captain.” Midnight said, a frown on her face, as the company continued towards the large alabaster medical building, now visible in the distance.
After another minute of quietly walking, Star broke the silence. “So..” he ventured hesitantly. Gruebel, Midnight, and Taylor all looked at him with interest. “How about that weather?”
Gruebel and Taylor face-palmed, while Midnight just sighed. “Really man?” Stivers said, overhearing his question. “It was the terrible weather that brought us here.”
“Oh yah...” Star’s ears drooped. “I guess that was just really bad timing...”
“You think?” Stivers said, one eyebrow cocked. “Whatever, we’re almost there.”
The remainder of the walk continued in silence as they reached the hospital doors. The entrance was surprisingly oversized for ponies, and the pilots barely had to duck their heads when entering. The lobby was equally spacious, and Stivers stretched self-consciously, glad of the change. After Golden Sword held the door open for the small flock, their attending nurse trotted up to the receptionist desk.
“We’re here for... him,” Redheart whispered.
The duty nurse behind the desk nodded sagely, turning to the attending humans. “Please come with me. Captain, leave your men here.”
Stivers looked to Golden Sword, who shrugged. “Um, Nurse? There’s two of us.” Stivers said sheepishly. “Perhaps you could specify?”
The nurse stopped, eyes wide in shock. “Oh, my apologies, sir. I meant for Captain Sword to leave his men. It isn’t good to crowd patients.”
Sword scowled at having to go alone with the humans, but didn't voice a complaint as Redheart took up the duty nurse’s station. Without bothering to introduce herself, the other nurse simply said, “This way,” and led them off to the wing on the right side of the lobby.
“Well Cap, how do you think he’s doing?” Gruebel asked, pointedly avoiding asking the nurse herself.
“Well, Gruebel, we’ll see when we get there won’t we?” Stivers replied, face locked forward.
As they walked down the pristine white corridors of the hospital, Stivers noticed Gallivan shivering out of the corner of his eye. Moving closer to the marine, Stivers gave Gallivan a concerned gaze. “You okay, Sergeant?” he whispered.
“Yah.” Gallivan replied, far too quickly. “Fine. Let’s just hurry up. I hate hospitals.”
“So Nurse...” Stivers grasped for a name.
“Tenderheart,” she offered.
“That’s...fitting.” Taylor muttered, and received an elbow from Gruebel. He shot the private a glare, but the young Marine seemed suddenly interested in the lighting fixtures overhead. “All right, Nurse Tenderheart, how far are we going?”
The nurse stopped, and turned to face the entourage she had built. “Right here.” she stated simply, opening the door.
The room they entered was just as sterile as the rest, but there was a large bay window dominating one of the walls, with a bed positioned so the occupant could look out across the rolling countryside.
Stivers moved to the bed, astonishment gracing his face. He hadn’t expected Thompson to be anywhere near a level of consciousness where he would be looking out a window. Turning to face the occupant of the bed, Stivers immediately jumped back, letting out a startled cry as he found an aged pony, instead of his flight mate.
Rushing to see what was the matter, Taylor and the other Marines moved to inspect the area. “What is it, sir?” Gallivan asked.
Looking at the shocked expressions of the humans who had failed to notice the second bed in the corner, the nurse moved to alleviate the fears of the pilots. “Sirs, this stallion could really use his rest—” She stopped as she observed the pony in the bed. His head was far more blue then his yellow coat should allow, with a long piece of medical tubing wrapped around his neck. “Celestia help us...” she whispered.
Golden Sword, who had followed the nurse, started scanning the room for the murderer. “In the corner,” he stated. “Everypony stay back.” He turned to regard a dark blob behind the second bed. The pilots all crowded behind the defensive guardspony, ready to watch his back. “Come out of the shadows, you coward!” Sword commanded.
Reluctantly, the shadow moved out from its hiding spot, revealing a very confused looking human in a hospital gown much too small for his frame. “Guys?” he asked tentatively.
“Thompson?” the remnants of Flight 19 responded in unison, shock evident in every set of eyes. The crewman had been burned almost beyond recognition the last time they had seen him. Now, except for a few reddened places on his face and neck, he was almost pristine.
Captain Sword dropped his guard slightly, but not enough to be considered helpless by any means. “Who did this?” he asked. “Did you see anything?”
“Cap, where are we, and what is this?” Thompson asked, visibly shaking with fear.
“It’s okay Marine.” Stivers soothed, “We’ll answer your questions in a minute, just tell us, what happened here.”
“He was threatening me Cap. I didn’t know what to do.” Thompson said, his eyes welling with tears. “I woke up here, and there was a talking horse! Who threatened me, Cap! Please tell me we died.” he finished solemnly.
“No son. We’re not dead. Just...somewhere else,” Stivers said. “Now tell us, did you kill this... pony?” he asked.
“Yes,sir. He was threatening me, sir, I didn’t know what else to do.” Stivers could see the resolve of his fellow Marine breaking, second by second.
“You are under arrest for the murder of...” Captain Sword frowned as he realized he didn’t know the name. He glanced quickly at the clipboard fastened to the foot of the other hospital bed. “How do you pronounce that, Nurse?” his befuddlement clear on his face.
“Johann Gambolputty de von Ausfern-schplenden—”
“You are not arresting him, Captain. Not for defending himself,” Stivers said, backing towards Thompson. Taylor, Gallivan, and Gruebel all quickly followed suit.
“-apple-banger-horowitz-ticolensic—” the nurse continued, heedless of the fact that no one was listening to her.
“Midnight!” Sword called out, never removing his gaze from the humans before him. “He will be tried in a court of law for his actions.” He growled as he stooped to a more aggressive stance.
“-bahnwagen-gutenabend-bitte-eine—” the nurse droned on, oblivious.
Midnight burst through the doors, followed by the three other Canterlot guards. “What is it Capta—” She paused as she noticed the hostile posture everyone had adopted, as well as the fifth human. “Captain?” she asked, worry creeping into her voice.
“The fifth human killed somepony, and the others refuse to let us bring him to justice.” he monotonically stated to his subordinate.
“-gumberaber-shönendanker-kalbsfleisch—”
“Close order corral. Now,” Midnight snapped. Instantly the other guard ponies spread out behind her, blocking the exit and forming an arc around the humans.
Thinking quickly, Stivers asked the only question he could think of that would buy more time. “Is the Princess the leader of your judicial branch?”
Sword only looked at the other Captain with apprehension for a moment. “Yes...” he responded slowly.
“We are going to her today. We can settle this matter with her then.” He glared at Sword, daring the Captain to challenge himself.
“von Hautkopft... of Ulm.” The nurse finished. “That is his—” she stopped as she noticed the other guards in the room. “Captain Sword.” She berated. “What did I tell you about having too many ponies in this room?” Her scorn was almost palpable.
“I am a Captain of—” Sword started to shout, before the nurse put a hoof to his face.
“I don’t care if you are Princess Celestia herself.” she said, her voice cold enough to freeze water. “While you are in my hospital, you will follow my rules.” she hissed, staring the Captain right in the eyes.
“Uhh... Right. We were just leaving for Canterlot anyway,” the now confused guard said, trying to save face. “Come on,” The Captain said to his team and the humans. “The chariot will be here any minute.”
“Now if you will excuse me, you have created quite a bit of work for me in here.” The mare stated angrily, removing the coil from around the limp pony’s throat.
As Stivers turned to follow the Captain, quietly amazed that his stalling tactic had actually worked, a sharp intake of breath made him flinch.
“Celestia be praised!” the nurse yelled. “He’s alive! Johann Gambolputty de von Ausfern -schplenden—”
Stivers looked in the direction of the opposing Captain. “Well, I guess he didn’t kill him then, did he?”
Sword deadpanned. “I guess he didn’t, no.”
Thompson’s voice rose up, quavering, from behind everyone. “Can I please trade this kiddy apron in for some pants? I’m freezing over here.”
After twenty minutes of finding Thompson’s pants, and explaining the situation they were currently in, the chariot finally arrived. It was a massive version of the standard ceremonial chariot the Princesses normally utilized, created for large groups, although the designers had never dreamed of the particular grouping of passengers about to embark on it now. Boarding the flimsy wooden craft, Thompson offered his opinion on why it was a bad idea to board an aircraft with no wings, powered by ponies who had the wings instead and who also had a grudge against humans, and who, incidentally, could easily drop them from the sky.
Taylor, for his part, just laughed at the notion of the ponies ever doing something like that, noting as how he had witnessed one cry over a wounded bear; in response, Midnight smacked him with a hoof.
“Ouch,” he muttered, rubbing his leg. “You wouldn’t drop me, would you, Midnight?”
“Like a rock,” she shot back. “Unless you behave yourself.” She gave him a level stare. “You are going to behave yourself on this trip, aren’t you?”
“Yes ma’am.” he replied warily.
“Good boy,” she responded with a sweet smile. “I think there’s hope for you yet.”
Glancing over at the sparring Lieutenants, Stivers noticed the smiles on their faces. “What are you two smirking at?” he asked candidly.
“Nothing Stivers.” Taylor responded instantly.
“You know, Taylor, I do outrank you.” Stivers stated.
“Only on the ground, Cap’n Bossman.” Taylor pointed out, with a cheeky grin.
Stivers rolled his eyes at the Lieutenant. “We are still on the ground, so get in that flying contraption now.”
Sighing, Taylor complied, while Midnight chuckled. “My, he has you well trained, doesn’t he?”
Taylor shot her a surprisingly wounded look. “He knows what he’s doing. I just...” His voice dropped low, barely audible. “I’m feeling a bit useless. We’re both technically the same rank, but I haven’t had much to say about what we’re doing lately.”
Midnight blinked, the confusion evident in her expression. “Wait. He’s a Captain, and you’re a Lieutenant, correct?”
“Yeah, but different branches, Midnight. I’m navy, remember?”
“Oh yes, I’d forgotten about that. I didn’t know it was so different where you come from.” She looked over the chariot for a moment with a practiced eye, doing her own version of a preflight check. “So he’s from the ground troops then, am I right?”
“A naval variant, but yeah, it’s pretty much the same thing.” Taylor glanced at the chariot uneasily, the wooden frame giving out a squeak as he settled his weight into the main compartment. “They’re called Marines. Usually assault troops, but Stivers and many others learned how to fly in order to help their troops out when we’re unavailable.”
“Learning how to fly is never a bad thing,” Midnight said, her own wings giving a little flicker before settling back. “And it’s good to learn new things.” She craned her head down, peering close at one of the chariot’s wheel hubs. “Maybe you could learn a few things from him.”
“Thanks,” Taylor said in a flat tone. “I didn’t feel inadequate enough before.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Midnight looked up at him. “He learned skills you already had...maybe you could do the same.” She shrugged. “For example, I’ve already learned that your people can fly without your own wings, that you have horrible taste in dining on occasion, and that in general, you’re not as bad as some of the old legends might have us think.”
Taylor leaned back against the side of the vehicle, and then straightened up again when it groaned alarmingly. “Uh... thanks, I guess.”
“You’re welcome, you big sod.” She clipped him playfully with a forehoof, not quite as heavily as before. “Now stop moping about and get ready—”
The Captains both turned to their respective lieutenants, anger showing on both their faces. “Shut up and sit down!” they shouted in unison, causing Taylor and Midnight to shrink back, then rush into their positions in the chariot.
Thompson looked over the side of the chariot as the six stallions who were to be their pilots started to accelerate. “Cap, This don’t seem safe to me.” he looked to Stivers pleadingly, almost asking to be let out.
“Doesn’t matter if it’s safe or not Thompson. They...” Stivers let himself trail off, looking off into the distance. “They hold all the cards.” he whispered, frowning.
As the chariot started to leave the ground, all five pilots started to get fidgety. Not only were they in an aircraft they weren’t in charge of, but if they looked closely, they could see through the floorboards. After discovering this, Gruebel advised everyone to not look down.
As the chariot got higher into the air, and started moving faster, the pilots all noticed something; there was no windblast. Deciding to test the theory, Taylor licked a finger and raised it into the air.
“Midnight,” the pilot asked, “where’s the wind?”
“Hmm?” the sub-lieutenant said absently, eyes fixed on the ground below. “Oh, pegasus magic.”
“I thought only unicorns could do magic...” Taylor mumbled.
“Very sharp,” she said approvingly. “See, you’re learning already. The unicorns are the only ones who can actively do magic. Everypony has their own bit of magic though. Among other things, pegasi can eliminate wind resistance, at least at moderate speeds like this,” she responded.
“That makes no sense, Midnight.” Taylor objected, shaking his head and moving to look over the side banister.
“So he just won’t fall out then.” Gallivan stated. “How did you get fixed up so fast anyway Thompson?” he asked.
“Get fixed up? What happened to me?” Thompson asked, incredulous.
“Listen, mac,” Taylor looked back, intrigued by the conversation. “You should be fucking dead! You were literally covered from head to toe in third degree burns. And that was yesterday!” Taylor was waving his hands wildly, much to Gallivan’s dismay, to emphasize his point.
“Shit.” Thompson said, face blank of emotion. He looked towards the ponies who acted as their escorts. “So... I should be dead, and we were transported to a magical land of talking ponies?”
“Not this again...” Midnight mumbled.
“Yes, you were all transported here, now can we please all shut up and enjoy the ride?” Crimson Hoof asked with a grimace.
And shut up they did. Stivers shuffled to the side of their carriage, looking over the rails. Time seemed to fly at speeds faster than Stivers imagined possible as he watched the rolling plains and the squares of farmland roll by.
Looking over to Taylor, he shared a knowing glance. “Reminds me of home.” Taylor observed to Stivers before looking over the edge again. “I miss it there already...”
The chariot touched down with a gentle bump in an open courtyard, high castle walls looming on three sides with a granite rock face dominating the fourth. A small contingent of Royal Guard stood off to one side, apparently awaiting their arrival. As the mixed species group left the confines of the chariot, their escorts immediately stopped and stood at attention.
“Sir,” Captain Sword said. “Delta Wing reporting as ordered.”
A pony clad in purple armour with a golden trim stepped forward. “Good. The Princess is expecting you and your guests,” he stated with venom. “Let’s go.”
“Yes Sir.” Sword said, moving his head as an indicator for the humans to follow.
Stivers, moved into marching position next to Sword, leaning over to him conspiratorially. “Who is this guy?” he whispered.
Leaning towards the quizzical human, Sword whispered back to him, keeping his voice low enough to not be heard. “That’s Field Marshal Shining Armour, Captain of the Royal Guard of Canterlot.”
“That’s a mouthful,” Stivers stated noncommittally.
“Quiet back there. I would expect this from a human, but not from one of my men, Captain.” General Armour stated, disdain flooding his voice.
As the rag-tag group made their way towards wherever the princess was waiting for them, Stivers took in the imagery around him. The conical towers of the castle were placed in almost random patterns, and were several stories higher than should have been structurally safe. The gardens in almost every area of the courtyard were immaculately tended to, fielding a wide assortment of various pastel flowers. And most importantly, on every blank space of castle wall, was an obvious symbol of heraldry, promoting the two Princesses, circling around the sun and moon.
I wonder what it means... Stivers thought to himself as they were led inside a wide coridor.
The inside walls were decorated with all sorts of paintings, ranging from landscapes to portraits, and where there was nothing actively covering the walls, there was a statue, or a flowerpot. The winding hallways all looked alike to the Marine Captain, but eventually the company came to a halt outside a very large set of wooden doors.
The doors themselves were more beautifully crafted than some of the artwork. One door, was painted in very bright yellows, and somber oranges, depicting scenes of a white alicorn through, what Stivers assumed to be, history. The other door was painted in somber blues and cool greens. This door however, differentiated from the other in the fact the midnight blue alicorn turned black, the door was void of more history.
Moving up to the finely carved doors, General Armour placed a hoof on the door, took a deep breath, and knocked authoritatively three times. The door opened to reveal a scrawny pont wearing a severe black butler’s suit. Upon seeing the Captain of the Guard, he turned and announced that they had arrived.
The inside of the large room was incredibly spacious and was probably only held up by the 8 massive pillars that lined a long red carpet that led directly to two thrones. The ambient light in the room was coloured in a rainbow hue due to the massive stained glass windows that lined the walls, depicting yet more historic events. The whole thing reminded Stivers of the churches back home.
The center of the room was dominated by a twin set of thrones, one gold, one silver. In each sat one of the royal alicorn sisters. Celestia, who looked pensive, motioned for the newly arrived group to come forward.
The guards, who were well versed in the royal protocol, moved forward and bowed, keeping their chins on the ground. The humans however, who had never known royalty outside of the British Monarchy, attempted to mimic what the ponies did, failing epicly as they more or less pussyfooted their way to the thrones, trying not to look like idiots. As Stivers approached the dais, he dropped to a knee and brought forward his center of mass, as he had read the Knights Templar did a long time ago.
Looking to his left, Taylor was just lowering his head in what Stivers hoped was respect, and Thompson was just standing there, eyes wide, looking like a deer caught in some headlights. To his right, Gallivan and Gruebel were doing much the same as Taylor.
“Rise, my little ponies,” Celestia said calmly. “And you as well my little—” Luna burst out laughing.
“Seriously Tia, Look at them! You totally owe me 20 bits.” Luna said between chuckles, receiving an angry glare from her sister.
“Luna.” Celestia said. “We already talked about this.”
“And you said they would all be stone cold and not do anything.” Luna retorted. “And then they go and do this?” she said, starting to laugh again as she waved a hoof lazily towards the humans.
Rolling her eyes, Celestia continued. “Rise, humans. We have found out how to get you on your way home.” she said.
“Permission to speak, your highness.” Captain Sword said, looking up to his beloved Princess.
“All are free to speak in this chamber, Golden Sword.” Celestia said.
“The new human almost killed a hospitalized pony.” Sword said, “His name was Johann von something or other. I didn’t quite catch it all.”
Celestia’s look of benevolence faded the instant Golden Sword finished his first sentence. “He did what?”
A/N
GoldenArbiter:
First off, sorry about the delay, As I said in Ty’s blog, I had some shit come up.
Secondly, I think I may have accidently changed styles half way through the chapter... I personally prefer it the way I started writing near the end, but I want to know what you guys think.
So, it has come to my attention that Ty is relinquishing all power of the story to me, and is stepping into a more backgroundy editory role. At least that’s what he said two days ago. Yesterday he said he was taking up his position as Co-author again, under me. All in all, the management process is just a giant clusterfuck at the moment, so...
At least I got the chapter out only one week late :)
Ty500600: As GA so colorfully said... I am back as co-author of Flight 19. I hope to be spending a lot of time with his crew, getting these chapters out on time. But as you all know, life sometimes gets in the way of things, and now that I am working again, it will be harder for me to help out, but I am doing my best and I hope that the staff of Flight 19 can also give their best to get you guys your weekly pony fix. Thanks, Ty500600.
GoldenArbiter: Okay then. Straight from the horse’s mouth. And just when I was starting to get hopeful too...
As always, let me know if there's anything you don't like with the chapter, so I can improve in later ones.
~GoldenArbiter
A/N the second:
For those of you who are wondering, the full name of the hospital pony is:
Johann Gambolputty de von Ausfern -schplenden-schlitter-crasscrenbon-fried-digger-dangle-dungle-burstein-von-knacker-thrasher-apple-banger-horowitz-ticolensic-grander-knotty-spelltinkle-grandlich-grumblemeyer-spelterwasser-kürstlich-himbleeisen-bahnwagen-gutenabend-bitte-eine-nürnburger-bratwustle-gerspurten-mit-zweimache-luber-hundsfut-gumberaber-shönendanker-kalbsfleisch-mittler-raucher von Hautkopft of Ulm.
“This human,” Sword raised a hoof towards the newly healed Thompson, “had attempted to strangle and kill a hospitalized pony who was completely defenceless. When we arrived at the hospital and entered the room where the human was being held, we found an elderly pony with a bit of surgical tubing wrapped around his neck. We believed him to be dead until he started breathing again.”
Thompson wilted visibly as the statement progressed. The instant Golden Sword finished, Stivers jumped in. “He was being threatened, Your Majesty. He would never do something—”
Celestia interrupted him with a raised hoof, “You will speak when spoken to, Captain Stivers. We will ask Thompson what happened.” Turning to Thompson, she gave him a rather deathly glare. “And we know when somepony is lying.”
Stivers and the others turned to look at Thompson. “Go on, tell her,” the captain said. “State your case.”
“Sir? What...I mean, why...”
Gallivan elbowed him and leaned in quickly. “Howie, what part of ‘field court-martial’ are you not gettin’?” he whispered. “Tell ‘em what happened.”
Thompson turned white as a sheet at this, the red blotches on his neck and face standing out lividly. “He...uh, that is, I woke up in bed. I called out...I think. Yeah, I did,” he said, his voice becoming a bit steadier. “I remember, because I didn’t hear anything but this damned beeping noise-”
“Watch your language in the Royal Court,” Shining Armour growled.
Thompson’s mouth clapped shut with an audible snap. Stivers leaned over and patted him on the shoulder. “Keep going. Just watch the salt.”
“Yessir.” Thompson cleared his throat and tried again. “Well, I called out again, and I heard somebody tell me to ‘shut up, ponies are tryin’ to sleep.’ It didn’t make any sense, so I pulled the curtain back...” He made a sweeping motion with one arm. “Everything looked sorta normal, and I remember wondering why I was in a hospital, and why there was a television bolted to the wall, and then I saw the...guy...in the next bed.”
“Was that when he threatened you?” prompted Luna.
“Yes...yes ma’am.” Unsure of who or what exactly was standing in judgement over him, Thompson fixed his gaze between the two princesses and continued on. “He jumped up and was yelling and waving something black at me...I thought it was a gun. Said I couldn’t have it, and he’d stomp me if I tried to take it. I didn’t think, I just grabbed him, smacked it out of his hand and shoved him back on his bed.”
“I saw it,” Golden Sword broke in, his voice suddenly bleak. “It was lying in a corner when we came in. It was the TV remote, Your Highness.”
“The what?” Taylor broke in.
“Never mind,” Celestia said quickly. “It was no weapon, Mr. Thompson. Go on.”
“Well, I was just panicked, I guess. He was yelling like crazy and I was afraid he...” Thompson looked at Stivers. “I thought I was nutso, Cap. I thought he was a monster and that more monsters would come if I didn’t shut him up, so I just grabbed the IV line hanging there and tried to strangle him, you know, like they showed us at boot camp.”
“It’s a basic self-defense technique,” Stivers said to Celestia. “We teach it to all our recruits in case they’re disarmed or trying to escape capture. They’re taught to use ropes, vines, or even their bare hands, if necessary.”
“Your soldier is very lucky he didn’t learn very well,” she sighed. “This could have been a lot uglier than it is.” Celestia shook her head. “This also could have been avoided.”
“If I woke up and saw that guy next to me in the hospital,” Crimson Hoof spoke up, “I’d have freaked out too. Can’t blame the poor pony.”
“And my guy was defending himself,” Stivers shot back. “Or at least thought he was.”
“Enough, everypony.” Celestia’s tone brooked no argument. “I believe we’ve heard enough to render judgement in this case.” She looked over at Luna, and the two sisters shared a long glance while silence hung thickly in the hall.
Luna nodded and turned her gaze toward the group assembled before them. “Thou shalt hear our judgement and obey,” she said. The timbre of her voice had deepened, and the words carried clearly in the still air. “We shall weigh our judgement upon your return.”
“Our return?” Stivers asked. “I thought we were here for a meeting with you.” the confusion on his face mingled with disappointment.
“You must acquire an item for us,” Celestia intoned, all anger from the previous incident gone. “if you wish to return to your homeland.”
“Wait,” Taylor interjected. “Aren’t you some sort of immortal god-princess kind of thing?” A nod from Celestia allowed him to continue. “They why don’t you just use your hippy-dippy magic and bring it here?”
Shining Armour’s expression forced Stivers to stifle a chuckle, as the General looked on in pure horror.
“Unfortunately,” Luna said coolly, suppressing snickers of her own, “This is an artifact of great value, which our magic has little effect on.”
Taylor emitted a sheepish apology as Stivers looked quizzically towards the celestial goddesses. “So... in order for us to leave this... place,” he said, his voice dropping lower in tone as each facet was laid out, “we need to go on some quest, find some artifact, in a land we don’t know...”
“Yes.” Celestia said. “You will leave once your escorts are outfitted for the journey.”
“Escorts?” Sword asked. “Why do they need escorts?”
“The artefact is deep in the gryphon territories, and they will need ponies with combat experience, and survival skill.” Celestia gestured to the ponies of the room, excluding Shining Armour, “And you five will be those escorts.”
Golden Sword’s face shifted from confusion to pure unbridled horror. “But, Your—”
“No ‘buts,’ Captain!” Celestia stated with enough force to make the humans cringe in fear. “You will be outfitted with whatever you require, and you leave immediately.” She punctuated her sentence by picking up the ten beings in question, and levitating them out of the room, much to the chagrin of the humans.
“Jesus-Tap-Dancing-Christ, what was that?” Gallivan asked in a slightly calmer tone.
“Alright Fillies,” Golden Sword said as he stood and dusted himself off, clearly getting used to being forcibly thrown out of rooms by magical creatures. “You heard our benevolent goddesses.” The irony was dripping off of his scowl. “Let’s get to the armoury then.”
“And take all the expensive weapons.” Taylor intoned.
Midnight froze in mid-step and shot a look of disbelief at the tall lieutenant. “We can’t do that! They’re reserved for state functions, and besides, they’re more ornamental than practical— ”
Taylor grinned and leaned over, rapping his knuckles lightly against the shoulder plate of her armor. “Gotcha.”
“What?” Midnight looked at him uncertainly for a moment, and then the realization struck her: she was being had. “Ohhh, just you wait. I’m going to—”
“Guys, wait.” Thompson said, his voice a bit more steady now that he was not on trial for his life. “We aren’t seriously going to just take them on their word, right?”
Stivers looked towards the sergeant, motioning for him to continue.
“I mean, think about it, sir. They didn’t give two fucks about us, and the minute we started asking questions they kicked us out.” He looked towards all of his companions, human and pony. “And maybe she’s gonna send us to our deaths? Us for being... well... us, and you,” he said, pointing to the ponies, “for knowing of our existence!”
“Thompson, that’s ridiculous.” Stivers stated plainly. “There were at least thirty guards between here and the landing zone, as well as the rest of Sword’s squad.”
“I thought this was all of his men?” Thompson queried.
“Uh...oh yah, you were dead when that happened,” Taylor laughed. “There were about half a dozen other grunts with him when they picked us up. This is his core group of hardasses, apparently.”
“Then maybe they’re the ones who get the dirty job.”
“What job?”
Thompson gestured around. “Core group of loyal troops. We go out on a ‘quest’ with them, and a few days later, they come back without us. And we’re never heard from again.”
“Oh come on!” Taylor shook his head. “If they wanted to off us, they could have done that when they found us.”
“Sir,” Gallivan broke in, “he does have a point. They didn’t know who the hell we were before we met Miss Majesty in there.”
Golden Sword growled lightly at this. “Mind your tongue, there. She’s our leader and our protector, and she’s done things for this land you can’t imagine.”
“My point being,” Gallivan continued, ignoring the Captain, “that know they do know what we are, and this is an easy way of getting us out of sight, no muss, no fuss.”
Corporal Hoof spoke up. “Wait a minute, Sarge, that’s not what we—”
“Don’t call me that, you little shit. You were quick enough to take that dimwit pony’s side in the hospital when Thompson was trying to defend himself in there.” Gallivan’s face flushed an ugly scarlet. “At least he knows who his friends are in here.”
Everyone but Thompson looked at Gallivan in shock. The other sergeant had a mollified look on his face, content that at least somebody here was not entirely insane yet. “Gallivan, ease up,” Stivers said quietly. “He didn’t know what the heck happened in that room, and neither did we. It was an honest mistake.”
“And I still don’t think it was a mistake,” Thompson said. “Captain, we have to find some way to get the hell out of here. I think this whole ‘quest’ is just a trick.”
“Look, Thompson,” Stivers said, rolling his eyes. “We are dealing with an all-powerful government agency here. If they really wanted us gone, they could have done it in that throne room, and just cleaned it later. And for somebody looking to assassinate us, they worked pretty hard at saving your life, from the look of it.”
“Are you saying you trust them, Cap?” Thompson retorted. “Who’s side are you on, huh?”
“I am on the side of the United States of America!” Stivers shouted. “And you will not question me again, Sergeant! Understood?”
Thompson lowered his eyes, scowling. “Yes Sir.” he stated mutely.
“Well, as interesting of an exchange as that was,” Sword said, shifting on his hooves nervously. “We really should get going, lest we disturb Their Majesties, and we all get shitcanned.”
“Wow, you have been hanging around us too long,” Taylor said. “Where’d you pick that one up?”
All of the eyes in the room settled on the obviously edgy Captain, his rapid eye movements and restless pawing at the ground with one forehoof revealing his fear.
“What’s got you so worked up Captain?” Midnight asked.
“Nothing.” he replied, far too quickly. “Let’s just go, yah?”
The trip to the armoury was much like that to the throne room; full of odd twists, and similar halls. As the group wandered in a seemingly random direction led by Captain Sword, Taylor whistled aimlessly and Gallivan did his best to memorize the route.
Stivers could eventually predict the reactions of all of the guard posts they encountered, as they all without question, sat and stared at the humans. The more ponies who stared at them, the more uneasy the unwavering Captain Sword became. Stivers took note of the reaction but said nothing; either the Captain was going to say what was bothering him, or not, and the Marine knew him well enough by now to know talking to him wasn’t going to push him one way or the other.
They descended a short flight of stairs and made a left turn into a well lit corridor with archways on either side. Passing by a few of them, the humans noted several racks visible with armour somewhat like what their own guards were wearing, along with a few weapons visible. “Hey, how come you don’t keep these locked up? Anybody could walk in here and just help themselves.” Gruebel stopped and pointed in demonstration.
“First of all, the armour is custom fitted for each pony.” Midnight didn’t bother to turn her head, but kept on following Sword. “Secondly, anypony who comes down this far into the castle is supposed to be here in the first place and isn’t going to steal anything.”
Gruebel blinked. “Oh,” was all he managed. “I didn’t think about that.”
“Clearly we ponies have less of a penchant for thievery than you.” She replied in a clipped tone.
It was Taylor’s turn to look nonplussed as he glanced at the Sub-lieutenant. The cold, even tone of her voice was unlike what he’d been used to hearing lately; it was almost as if they were back in the field near the Everfree Forest, facing off against each other with a bear between them. “Well, we’re not all that bad....”
“Here we are.” Golden Sword stopped at the seventh archway on their right side. “My own troops are well equipped at the moment, but there are some things in here that your pon...erm, people, may be able to use, Captain.”
“Well, let’s take a look then, huh?” Stivers kept his tone neutral; there was some undercurrent in the group that had not been present before, and it bothered him.
.
Inside the room, weapons of all kinds were lined up against the wall. Everything from swords to bows and all in between. Greubel however, was not impressed. “How are we supposed to use these?” he asked.
“With those fancy hands of yours?” Midnight quipped, earning a stare from her Captain.
“What he means, Midnight, is that none of us have formal training in medieval weapons.” Stivers said, looking over the array of weapons.
“It's easy to use these,” Gallivan said, eyeing a gladius. “just pick it up and swing.” As he did just that, Thompson was forced to duck as the sword was flung in his direction.
“Holy fuck man!” Thompson screamed. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Gallivan’s eyes were wide as saucers as he watched the sword ping off one of the other weapon racks, sending all of the weapons onto the floor with a clattering loud enough to wake the dead.
A moment of shocked silence filled the room, until Taylor’s voice broke it in a deadpan tone. “Captain Sword, there’s your evidence. We’re all deadly killers and it’s time to get rid of us.”
Crimson Hoof looked over the mess the human had made, eye twitching. “I’m not cleaning that up,” he stated evenly, looking towards Golden Sword to confirm what he said.
“Sergeant,” Stivers said, “If I ever see you holding a sword again...” He let his sentence trail off, the threat clearly implied.
Looking around the room again, Gallivan turned around and moved to a corner where he promptly sat on his hands.
Stivers stood still for a moment, looking over the various weapons on display; the steel on the swords was polished to a high gloss, and he made a mental note to have anyone taking one of the things to blacken the edges before they even walked out the door. He walked down one aisle, hands clasped behind his back, humming an aimless tune.
“What are you looking for, Captain?” Midnight walked over to pace behind him, her ears pricking up at the sound of his humming.
“Gotta find Betty in here somewhere.”
“Who?”
“Sorry,” he chuckled. “It’s a catchall term I use. You want the right tool for the job, correct?”
“Always.” she replied.
“Well, in this case, we don’t exactly know what the right job is. So I need to find something that suits my abilities best instead. That way, I can be adaptable, at least.” He continued pacing down the aisle to the end, stopping to examine a row of spears critically. “No good with those.”
Midnight cleared her throat. “Can I make a suggestion?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Try something with a little more range to it. I didn’t notice any of you using hand-to-hand weapons when we met you.” She went around him and cut across one aisle. “These, maybe?”
“Hell yes!” Stivers stepped forward and glanced admiringly at the row of recurve bows that hung up in one corner. “Shit, I used to use one of these when I was a kid. We’d go out hunting...well.”
Midnight quirked an eyebrow, “Well... what?” she asked innocently.
Stivers seemed to lose his voice as she looked at him curiously, but eventually managed to whisper, “Deer.”
Midnight laughed. “It’s quite all right, sir... I’m well aware you don’t exactly dine on hay and oats all the time.”
“Yeah.” he said, blushing. “Anyway, this is something I’m familiar with, at least.” He walked along the weapons for a moment, picking up one occasionally and testing the heft. “I think this might do. It’s a bit small, but it feels strong enough.” He lifted it up and pulled it back to full draw, the ends of the bow curving back alarmingly. “Nice.”
“Good pick,” Midnight said approvingly. “I may pick up a new one as well; the haft on mine is looking a bit weak lately.”
“You can use a bow?” Stivers looked at her then her hooves, one eyebrow arched. “Hell, I guess you can, otherwise they wouldn’t be in here. Just... it’s kind of weird when you don’t have fingers.” He waggled his own in demonstration.
“It’s easy.” She picked one up quickly and pulled it back to full draw in an eyeblink, her weight settling back on her haunches as she balanced. “You just pick it up, and pull back.”
Taylor’s jaw would have hit the floor at that point, were it not connected with his face. “You know what?” he said to no one in particular. “I’m not even going to ask.” He then moved over to keep Gallivan company in the corner, mind thoroughly fucked.
“Well I’ll be damned.” Stivers stated, voice low.. “You managed to shut Taylor up. I could hug you Midnight.”
Midnight looked at the Captain, blushed, and shoved the bow into her pack before retreating back to her commander.
“It was an expression, Midnight.” Stivers said quickly, trying to salvage what he could of the situation.
“No, I know, it’s not that!” Her expression was as miserable as he’d ever seen it. “I...Captain, I want to apologize for what I said earlier. It was unfair, and uncalled for.”
Stivers mulled that one over for a moment. “Fair enough. I’m sorry about Thompson...he’s really a good guy, and a hell of a Marine.” He waved a hand about aimlessly. “We’ve spent a little more time with you and I don’t think he’ll be like that once he gets to know you a little better.”
“One can hope,” she said. Her tone was a little more normal though, and she managed a small smile. “Thank you, sir.”
“Not a problem.” He hefted the bow again. “Now, where can we get some ammo for these? I need a little practice.”
The group that finally emerged into the training courtyard was armed to such an eclectic degree that several of the guards stationed around the perimeter stopped to peer at them with interest, the disparity of species being only one topic of conversation.
Stivers and Midnight each sported a recurved bow, each of cunning fashion and well strung with the coloured tail hairs of the bowyer who had wrought it, lending each weapon a definite distinctive appearance. Taylor had opted for one of the bows as well, but selecting instead a smaller short-bow with less draw and easier for him to load. The two humans also sported a small but vicious looking dagger on their belts for close-in defence. Golden Sword carried his namesake strapped to one side, the polished hilt gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. Gruebel carried a short stabbing sword; although the weapon was much more humble than the one the pegasus wore, it served much the same purpose. Crimson Hoof carried one of similar design and size, but the edge was slightly curved, giving it the look of a shortened cavalry sabre.
Shining Star and Thompson each carried a spear, with the former carrying his weapon strapped crosswise over his back between his wings, and the latter using the pony-sized weapon almost like a walking-stick. Only Shadow and Gallivan were unarmed: the pony by choice, and the human by necessity; the Marine had reluctantly admitted that none of the archaic weapons felt comfortable and that he felt better off with his own two hands and whatever the situation might present. Shadow had opined that, between the two of them, they could handle whatever danger might present itself, thereby sparing the officers the possibility of chafing, blisters and self-inflicted wounds.
That comment had broken the moodiness that had surrounded Gallivan since the unpleasant scene in the throne room; he had burst out laughing and clapped the pony on the shoulder. “Be damned if you don’t even talk like a Marine.” The two now brought up the rear of the procession in companionable silence as the group made their way into the center of the courtyard.
Stivers paused in mid-stride, stopping to watch a small group of ponies engaged in what appeared to be some sort of self-defence course. The instructor was shouting in a hoarse, almost screeching voice at one of his pupils who had apparently offended him.
“Sooo, we want to learn about pointed sticks, do we? Feeling all high and mighty, eh? Fresh fruit not good enough, eh? Oh oh oh. Welll, let me tell you something, my lad!” The instructor closed in on the student, who, understandably to Stivers’ eye, shrank back. “When you’re walking home tonight, and some ponycidal maniac comes after you with a bunch of loganberries, don’t come crying to me!”
“What in the holy hell is he talking about?” Stivers glanced over at Golden Sword. “I took three different self-defence courses and even taught one at Parris Island one year, and I never had to show anyone how to defend against produce.”
“That’s Old Fruity,” Shadow said. “Sergeant Gorseberry Jam, really, but everyone in my class just called him Old Fruity. Best unarmed instructor you’ll ever see, and none of his students has ever let him down yet. I was the only one in my class to graduate,” he said proudly.
“Really? He’s that tough, huh?”
“Yes sir. If you don’t survive, you don’t graduate.”
All of the humans did a double-take at that. “Survive?!” Grubel’s voice shook. “Holy Christ.”
Shadow grinned. “Yeah, it’s a great motivator.”
“I’d say.” Taylor glanced at the students, feeling a sudden overwhelming sense of sympathy at their pensive expressions. “Uh, let’s try training at a less lethal level, guys, what do you say?”
“Yeah, bleeding out on the training ground isn’t going to help us out much.” Stivers glanced around. “Okay, everyone split up and find a place to work on your technique. Daylight’s wasting, and I don’t think we have a lot of time.”
“True enough,” Golden Sword said. “I would recommend leaving at first light in the morning; all of our provisions should be ready by then, and we’ll have the benefit of a good night’s sleep.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” agreed Stivers. “Okay people, let’s move.” Stivers headed toward a row of archery targets in one corner, Taylor following him close behind. At a command from Sword, the ponies spread out as well, each group heading off to an unoccupied area to practice with their particular choice of weapon and accompanied by one of the pilots.
Golden Sword and Crimson Hoof headed over to a line of practice dummies, each shaped like a rearing creature with some sort of weapon tacked on. Gruebel followed behind, examining the targets for a moment with a critical eye. There were several pony-shaped mannequins, one that looked like an eagle with lion-like legs, and one God-awful looking shape on the end that the Marine immediately recognized. “Crap, I remember that thing from the woods.”
“Oh yes, the Manticores,” Sword said. “They’re fairly nasty creatures on average.”
“You got that right,” Crimson Hoof muttered.
Gruebel looked at the shape askance, noting the scorpion-like tail that arched over the beast’s head, as well as the outstretched paws, each with sharp hooks of metal embedded in them to simulate claws.
One fuckup with this baby, and I’ll be shedding very realistic blood. He drew his sword and examined it for a moment. “How am I supposed to get inside the reach of those claws? The arms are twice as long as my reach with this.”
Golden Sword laughed. “That’s the point of the exercise, then, isn’t it? Here, I’ll give you an assist.” The Captain moved over to behind the stuffed creature and flipped a lever. The outstretched arms dropped down. Crouching on his haunches, the pony gripped two other short handles behind the mannequin. His forelegs moved oddly, and in response, the faux manticore’s forepaws rose up to match Sword’s movements as he controlled it from behind. “Come at me, and we’ll run through some parries and ripostes. You never just charge in at the beast, you have to wait for it to make a mistake.”
Gruebel set his feet and hefted his sword, then glanced at the pony behind the target. “Wait...what if I make a mistake first?”
Golden Sword’s features assumed a predatory grin that Gruebel remembered quite well from his own instructors at boot camp. “My advice would be....don’t.”
The Marine swallowed heavily. “Aye-aye, sir,” he muttered.
The group found themselves walking back to the throne room shortly after sunset, following Captain Sword through the seemingly identical hallways yet again. Looking back on the day of training, Stivers surmised that they weren’t ready, but had very little choice in the matter. Like it or not, they were going.
Stivers had been impressed, if somewhat perplexed, by Midnight’s technique with the bow. Her form made no sense to him; her holding it in in her hooves, rearing back to fire each arrow with a smooth, methodical motion. She was also a better shot than him, which really gave him perspective on the land. They all knew how to do what they did well.
Gallivan and Shadow had spent the better part of the afternoon sparring, hand to hoof. Gallivan had shown his skill towards Shadow by beating him seventeen to sixteen. The results were not very noticeable on the pony, but the Marine sported several interesting hoof-shaped bruises here and there, and both of them were a bit slower and stiffer in their stride than when they’d gone out earlier.
Shining Star had shown Thompson the intricacies of spear fighting, which, while few in number, were surprisingly complex. The human had nearly mastered the art of thrusting the weapon forward from a set position when Star decided to test him one on one. The result was that Thompson had several minor cuts on him from when he failed to block, and a bit of grudging respect for the guard pony. They had worked on blocking after that, and Thompson had progressed enough that Star pronounced his work satisfactory, at least for a beginner.
Taylor proved to be fairly adept with his short bow. However out beyond one hundred yards, he couldn’t ‘hit the broad side of Celestia’s flank’, as Midnight put it. The Lieutenant switched his focus to speed instead, and was now reasonably quick at nocking an arrow and letting fly at the target, although Midnight put both him and Stivers to shame; her speed and accuracy simply were not imitable.
As Sword led them around a familiar corner, Stivers took note once again of the decorated frieze that paneled both sides of the immense hallway leading to the main throne room. He started to remark on the strangely blank panels showing the moon hanging in a starlit sky, then paused. “Shh...anyone else hear that?”
The group shuffled to a stop, heads tilting and ears pricking up on the ponies. Several muffled voices could be discerned through the doors ahead, rising and falling in what was clearly an argument of some sort. The voice of both princesses could be heard, sometimes overlapping one another, occasionally punctuated by an interjection of a heavier male voice.
“Oh shit,” Stivers breathed. “It’s that asshole we ran into when we first got here. Field Marshal whatsit...”
“Shining Armour,” Sword supplied. “It would appear that not everypony is in agreement about your little... trip.”
“Our trip, buddy.” Taylor looked over at the pony Captain. “You’re in this with us too, remember?”
“All too well,” Sword replied in a grating tone. “Let’s get this over with.” He moved forward, and without bothering to knock, the guardspony shoved one of the doors open with a forehoof and walked through the opening.
The heated conversation instantly stopped, and Celestia, Luna, and Shining Armour all turned to stare at the Captain in surprise. “I can see our guests have let their manners rub off on you, Captain.” the stallion said. “You’ve already forgotten protocol, not to mention knocking.”
“I tend to forget such things when I hear my Princesses arguing with somepony,” Golden Sword bit off. “Do you mind telling me what’s going on?”
“We’re very safe, Captain, I assure you,” Celestia said in a tone more resembling her normal speaking voice. “Just talking over some... internal matters we happen to disagree with the General on.”
“‘Disagree.’ That’s rich,” Luna muttered.
“Now,” Princess Celestia interjected, “Why are you still here? I do believe I told you to be off on your quest?” her eyebrow raised in suspicion.
“Your Highness,” Sword spoke to the princess, throwing protocol out the window entirely. “You never actually said where we are to go, or what we are looking for.”
“We decided to get a day of practice in.” Stivers mentioned offhandedly, earning a glare form Sword.
“Regardless of my actions,” Celestia looked to her sister, who nodded. “You were told to leave and you have not done so. You will receive disciplinary action upon your return, Captain.”
Golden Sword’s eye twitched.
Luna’s horn flared brightly, and a rolled-up parchment appeared in the air before her, hovering. “The item you are seeking,” she said, unrolling it to reveal a map, “is a Pentachoron. It will be—”
“What the fuck is a Pentachoron?” Taylor said, holding his head as if even the word ushered pain.
“Well,” Luna said, looking offended. “I was going to tell you, but now you get a riddle.” She closed her eyes and began speaking in a low, sonorous voice. “What you seek will be found, twixt the sky and the ground / on a pedestal of three, thou shalt find me. The key to my secret will come from a friend / All you desire will be found within.”
Silence descended for a moment as she finished. “Well, that was mysterious, I guess,” Crimson Hoof said.
“Terribly mysterious,” Luna corrected with a smile. “Did you like it?”
“Sure, why not.” Taylor said. “Can we at least get a country to work off of, though?”
Celestia looked to the brash Lieutenant. “It is in a Griffon monastery. The only Griffon monastery in existence. I trust you can find it easily enough.”
Taylor looked over at Stivers, then back at the princesses. “Sure, eventually. The map would help a lot, though, you know?” He waved a hand in a wandering motion. “The whole direction thing is a bit vague.”
Celestia sighed crossly. “Oh, very well. Although the Elements of Harmony never needed this much assistance.” Her own horn flared alight and the map floated over to Taylor’s outstretched hand. “Make of it what you will.”
Stivers leaned over to study the parchment for a moment. “Wait...is the scale on this thing accurate?”
Luna snorted. “Of course. I drafted it myself.”
“Jesus Christ, we’ll spend a year or two getting to this place!” The map showed Equestria laid out clearly...in one small corner. The apparent object of their journey was marked at the extreme other end of the land mass on the map with an ubiquitous ‘X.’ “I thought you were trying to get us home in a hurry.”
“Well then, I suggest you find some alternate means of transportation that’s faster,” Celestia said with a smirk. “And no, you may not use my chariot again. That would be cheating.”
“Cheating?” Stivers face was becoming redder by the moment. “This is no game, Your Highness.”
“On that, we agree. So I recommend you get started as soon as possible,” Celestia stated, her horn glowing softly around the edges again. “I want you on your way by first light tomorrow. I’d also recommend you take a shower soon, Captain Stivers...you’re starting to become a bit offensive in company.”
“Why you...” The Marine’s reply was cut off in an all too familiar flash as the group was teleported out of the throne room, Luna’s laughter ringing in their ears.
A/N: Sorry again about the wait guys. I was not expecting this chapter to take so long, but a culmination of at home things kept me from writing.
There is good news however, and I hope you will all think so too, as it should exponentially increase the speed with which I post these chapters! My Editor, Dave Morris (http://www.fimfiction.net/user/DMoFL71), has joined the crew as a Co-Author, since Ty hasn't really had the time to assist. A round of applause to Dave, everyone.
In other news: The plot for this story is fleshing out quite well, and you should all be looking forward to an exciting ride for when the story actually starts to pick up, and the adventure tag kicks in. Sorry about it not being very adventure-y sooner, but all of the fluff text caught up on me.
As always, enjoy the read, and point out any mistakes we failed to catch.
~GoldenArbiter
PS I will be taking on the colour of orange (gold) because Dave likes red better.
************************
Guess I have to stop lurking in the shadows and say hello now.
I was already following this story when I saw Arbiter's request for editors/proofreaders awhile back. I immediately e-mailed him and offered my services, such as they were.
I lucked out in that regard. I got to look inside a story that I was already enjoying and found it was going to go into some really fun and interesting places. And I got to meet someone who turned out to be not only a very good writer, but one hell of a good friend as well. To quote a favorite pony of mine: "Best day EVER!"
I appreciate the opportunity, and I hope you all enjoy everything to come. I'm going to hush now, be quiet now, as both Fluttershy and Golden Sword are giving me an ominous stare...
Stivers awoke in a near panic, jerking upright and taking in the unfamiliar sight of the room around him before remembering where he was. Taylor was sitting up in the bed across from him, the creaking sound he had made as he sat up being the small stimulus that had reached into Stivers’ dreams and snapped him awake.
“Sorry,” Taylor mumbled incoherently. “Jus’ woke up myself.”
“Yah,” Stivers replied. He pressed both palms against his eyes, rubbing gingerly for a moment. “What time is it?”
“Oh-dark thirty. The sun isn’t even awake yet.” Taylor squinted at his watch, frowning as he tried to make out the dial in the dimness. The hands had stopped moving ever since they had arrived in this odd land...or, at least, they didn’t move normally. Every time he checked his watch, it seemed to have jumped randomly, anywhere from a few minutes to several hours within the same amount of elapsed time. Giving up, he yawned hugely. “Gimme a minute to get my heart started and I’ll wake up the men.”
“I’ll get Gallivan,” Stivers said, coming fully awake. “Him you don’t just shake and hand him his cornflakes.”
“Roger,” Taylor said, not fully understanding, but it was too early to discuss anything that needed real brain power at the moment. He hissed as he stood upright, wincing. “Six feet don’t fit very well into four feet of bed.”
Stivers could feel his own legs tingling as they came awake; his calves had been lying on the foot of the bed all night, and were starting to complain merrily about it. “Thanks for the bulletin.”
Taylor stretched, his back crackling dully, and grinned in the dimness. “That’s the Navy; we aim to please.”
“You need gunnery practice, then.” Stivers stood up and stretched as well, hobbling gingerly from one foot to the other as the blood began flowing normally again. Uttering a curse under his breath, he padded barefoot across the room to its third occupant, who had begun stirring on his own undersized bed.
Gallivan opened his mouth and stretched it wide in a yawn, and reached his arms out as far as he could. He leaned over lopsidedly on the bed, still half asleep. Please don’t let reveille be here yet... just five more minutes. As if someone had read his mind and decided to shit on his prayers, something firm touched his shoulder and gave him a shake. Of bucking— oh Christ I’ve been in pony hell for too long. He cracked his eyes open just a bit before growling at whoever was touching him. “I swear to God if I roll over and whoever is touching me isn’t wearing a Marine patch, heads are gonna’ roll.” He quickly rolled over into the sight of Stivers looking him down on him, a tired smirk on his face.
“That’s not a good way to make friends, Marine,” He said mockingly.
The Marine shot out of bed and saluted his superior officer. “Sorry, sir.”
“At ease, son. No need for that right now. We aren’t on the record,” the Captain said nonchalantly, still holding his smirk.
“Sorry sir, you know how it is. Training and all that jazz.”
“Aye, I do know how it is.”
“As for making friends, thats not my job. My job is to go where I’m told and shoot what I’m told. I’m a killing machine sir, and a free man. These ponies, they’re not like us, not like humans, I mean. They show compassion where there should be violence. They also have no problem being ruled by a tyrant,” Gallivan spewed, wiping away the smirk on Stivers’ face.
“Whoa, where did that come from?” Stivers asked, confused.
“I...” The sergeant paused, glancing across the room at Taylor; the lieutenant was fumbling with one boot and didn’t even look in their direction. Gallivan looked back at Stivers and sighed heavily. “Bad memories. Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime, skipper. Just...not right now, okay? I’d need to be a lot more awake and a lot less sober, let’s put it that way.”
“No problem, sergeant. Just try to roll with the punches, hmm?”
“Aye-aye, sir. They’d just be easier to take if I knew when to expect them.”
“Reading that loud and clear.” Stivers reached down and squeezed the other Marine’s shoulder for a moment, then dropped his hand to his side. “Go ahead and get squared away. I’m going to go see about some chow.”
Gallivan nodded and waited until the officer moved away. Reached up, he scrubbed his cheeks with his hands, frowning as he heard the raspy sound of his beard stubble against his palms. Unfortunately, a shaving kit was not standard issue on training flights, or in magical winged unicorn palaces, either, so he resigned himself to looking somewhat less than shipshape until he could locate a decent razor, if one could be had in this surreal land.
With another heavy sigh, Gallivan rubbed his eyes slowly, willing the early-morning drowsiness away. The pressure of his knuckles against his eyes made odd starburst shapes flare on and off in his darkened vision. The shapes roiled about aimlessly, then seemed to come together for a moment in a leering face, one that looked at him laughingly and wanted to know why he was so stubborn, when he could have a decent meal and maybe even a cigarette if he would only answer the questions...
The Marine’s eyes snapped open and he reached out to grip the covers beside him, his forehead awash in a cold sweat. He glanced around and saw a sliver of warm yellow light seeping through the doorway where Stivers had left it open. His mind grasped at it like a drowning man will seize upon anything floating, anything at all, that will keep him afloat one more moment and prevent the dark, cold waves from closing over his head forever.
Gallivan sat there for a moment, letting his breathing return to normal, before leaning over to grab his shirt. “I’m getting too old for this...”
The pilots, as well as the guard ponies that were accompanying them on their journey, had all been quartered together in a large room off the south wing of the castle. Their sleeping quarters all connected with a sort of common room in the center, which seemed to serve as both a social area as well as a kitchen, dining room, exercise area, and any other activity that didn’t involve sleeping.
A huge table (by pony standards, and at least respectably sized, for the humans) dominated the center of the room, surrounded by several carved wooden stools and even a chair at one end. Stivers walked in to see Golden Sword seated in the chair and blinking owlishly at a knot in the fine-grained wooden table before him. “Morning.”
Sword’s eyes rolled up to fix on Stivers for a moment, before finally recognizing him. “Guh,” he replied noncommittally.
“What, you don’t do mornings?”
“When you get to be a Captain, one of the nice things is that you don’t have to do mornings if you don’t want to.” Golden Sword blinked rapidly and scuffed his face with a foreleg. “Today, I don’t really want to.”
“I hear that.” Stivers walked over to sit down next to the other Captain. “So, what’s the plan of the day?”
“I took the liberty of getting breakfast sent down. We don’t really have time to cook...or eat, for that matter, but I’m not stepping forth on something like this without a full belly to start with. Celestia knows that meals will get rare enough before long on something like this.”
“That’s the way it pretty much works where I come from too,” Stivers agreed. He leaned his head back, letting it roll about on his shoulders as he stretched his muscles for a moment. Suddenly he froze, staring at Sword in shock. “Holy shit. You’re naked.”
“I what?”
“Where’s your armour?”
“We’re in the castle, I don’t sleep in it here,” Sword said, rather stiffly. He tilted his own head to match Stivers’ pose, the golden forelock between his ears flipping down to settle over one eye. “You’re going to get a cramp if you sit like that much longer.”
Stivers straightened back up. “Sorry...I just got used to seeing you in uniform, I guess.”
“Well, even so. I am not naked. We don’t normally wear clothes, unless it’s a special occasion or the situation warrants it, like our armour. Besides, you did notice the fur coat? It’s standard issue.”
Stivers raised his hands in surrender. “Too early for this discussion. I need coffee before we decide anything important, anyway.”
“On that, I agree with you.” A knock sounded at the door to the main hall, and Sword brightened. “Right on time. Here comes your coffee, Captain, and mine too.”
A steward opened the door and shuffled in, tugging a laden cart behind him. Stivers blinked and stared at the contents. “Wait. Eggs? You eat eggs?”
“You don’t?”
“Hell yes.” Stivers sat up straight and patted the table in front of him expectantly. “Lay on, MacDuff.”
The door creaked behind him and he glanced over a shoulder to see Taylor and Gallivan come wandering out. “Is that coffee I smell?” Gallivan asked.
“Yep. The real deal.”
“Thank God, Celestia, and Buddha’s belly button,” Taylor said. “That’s the last thing I...” He stopped, frowning, peering at Golden Sword for a moment. “Captain?”
“Yes, it’s me. No, I am not naked. I’m half-awake and hungry, and not a zoo exhibit, so do you mind the staring?” Sword said testily.
“Sorry,” Taylor said. “I just didn’t-” He stopped again as a bluish-purple pony with a sable mane and tail emerged from one of the other rooms. “Shadow?”
The pony shook its head and emitted a low growl, the tone clearly identifying the owner. “Taylor,” Midnight Arrow grated, “you and I need to talk about the difference between colts and fillies.”
Stivers, who had been sipping gingerly at a steaming mug before him, nearly choked on his coffee. “Strike one, Navy.”
Taylor threw his hands up in exasperation. “Aw come on! They look different without the armour on.”
Midnight seated herself at the table beside Sword. “And so do you with that interesting hairstyle.”
Taylor reached up and brushed a hand through his hair; the lieutenant’s blonde hair was cut military short, but long enough that sleep had been able to give it a thorough touseling.
The wrinkles furrowing Golden Sword’s forehead were building up like thunderheads, and Stivers stepped in hurriedly before the storm broke. “I think I already had this discussion once. Try the coffee before you say anything else this morning, Lieutenant.”
The wisdom of this argument was beyond debate, and one by one the members of the group came in to sit down and prepare themselves for the day ahead. The food was excellent, and almost like anything the humans might have found back home; breakfast, apparently, transcended any barriers time and space might have thrown up between the worlds. The bacon tasted somewhat odd, but Taylor decided not to bring it up at the moment; it obviously wasn’t real bacon, from the way the ponies were crunching it down, and it wasn’t the first time in his military career he had dined on food that wasn’t exactly made of the traditional ingredients.
When Sword had finished, he sat back reflectively for a moment, rubbing idly at one ear with a forehoof. “One should never begin a journey on a sour note. I hope I didn’t get off on the wrong hoof with any of you this morning; if so, I apologize.”
Stivers and Taylor blinked at one another. “Sure, Captain,” Taylor offered. “Same here. I mean, sorry about the staring and everything.”
“Of course. What I mean to say is...” The Captain paused, frowning. “We’ve had very little time to train together, and not spent much more in each other’s company at all. But today we set out on a journey into dangerous parts of this land... places I’ve only heard about, and not seen. Dangerous places, and we’ll need to be able to count on each other, for certain.”
Stivers straightened. “Captain, my men know their duty. They won’t let me down. Or you.”
Midnight nodded. “You’ll be able to depend on us, as well,” she said to Stivers. “Whatever you need, we’ll be there.”
Golden Sword glanced at her, then back to meet Stivers’ gaze directly. “Well, Captain, it appears we have each other’s word. That’s a good enough place to start for me.”
After breakfast, the ponies had donned their armour once more, and the combined group was met outside their chambers by a small escort who led them along a meandering pathway through the castle that ended by the southern exit. A set of elaborately carved doors stood open, the archway over their heads surmounted by a portcullis set cunningly into the stone; the iron tips of the lower edge gleamed dully in the pre-dawn air. The escort came to a halt, and was dismissed by a higher ranking officer. Stepping closer, he greeted them pleasantly enough, and they were surprised to see Shining Armour.
“General,” Golden Sword said, stiffening at attention.
“Be at ease, Captain.” He tilted his head to study them for a moment. “You sure do make for an odd group....but maybe it takes one to get a job like this done.”
“We’ll be there and back before you can say ‘Jack Robinson,’” Taylor quipped.
The ponies all turned almost as one to look at him. “Why in Equestria would we say that?” Crimson Hoof asked.
Before Taylor could reply, there was a low beating of wings from above. Glancing up, the ponies immediately knelt down in supplication. There was almost a feeling of music filling the air, a sensation more felt than heard, as Princess Luna alit on the ground before them. The cobalt flow of her mane and tail seemed alight with stars, a shifting, shimmering pattern of light that came and went and came again in random patterns. She nodded at them, folding her wings to her sides. “Please, subjects, stand up. Do rise.”
“Great,” muttered Gallivan. “Here we go again.”
The alicorn’s expression looked pained; she had clearly heard the remark. “Please... allow us a moment to bid you farewell. We would...” She paused, her stance altering subtly before them. “General,” she said to Shining Armour, “would you excuse us? We shall inform them of the details.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Shining Armour’s hooves clicked as he came to attention, and then nodded at Golden Sword before moving off.
Luna watched him until the pony was out of earshot. “I would like,” she continued more quietly, “to explain something to you all.”
“Yeah, you did pretty well with that riddle of yours, Your Highness,” Taylor said, folding his arms. “I think we’re confused enough at this point.”
Luna glanced at Stivers.
“Don’t look at me,” he said curtly. “I happen to agree with him. But go ahead. Explain away, if it’ll make you feel better.”
“No, Captain, that’s not why I...” Luna glanced up at the castle, then off towards the east, where the dark sky was beginning to show a hint of losing its grip. “Captain Stivers... Golden Sword knows of a tradition concerning journeys like the one you are about to make. One should never leave ill will behind one’s hoofprints on such a trip.”
“Yeah, he did mention that,” the Marine acknowledged.
Luna nodded. “I thought he might. He’s one of our best, most loyal troops.” Sword stirred at this, but said nothing. “And what’s more important, he’s a good pony. Inside and out.”
“Thanks for the news flash,” Gruebel said.
“At ease, men.” Stivers held up a hand, not removing his gaze from Luna’s face. “Go on.”
Luna dug at the ground with a forehoof unhappily. “He’s a good pony. Nearly all of us are, Captain. Even my sister and I, although you probably don’t think so at the moment.”
“How very perceptive of you,” Taylor said icily. “Was figuring that out another riddle? Because you hid that one pretty damned well yesterday.”
“I’m aware of that.” Luna dropped her gaze and looked at the ground, plainly ashamed, a sight that shocked the ponies in the group. “I wish I could explain, Captain. As it is, I’m pushing the limits in even telling you this much.”
“Princess, you haven’t really told us anything.”
“And I wish I could,” she said, her voice suddenly bitter. “All I can say is that even we have to play by rules, Captain, and I’m aware this is not a game. My sister and I both know that. However,” she added, her voice lightening a little, “I’ve become adept over the centuries at learning how to bend rules to my advantage. And maybe even to yours.”
Stivers uncrossed his arms. “You’ve got my undivided attention, Your Highness.”
“Your provisions and supplies have been prepared,” she said, one wing flicking out from her side to point towards a small nearby cart laden with saddlebags. The weapons they had chosen the day before were laid out neatly as well, the edges of the swords and spears honed to a bitter sharpness, the arrowheads glimmering like the teeth of an angry wolf. “But I took the trouble last night to prepare something a little more helpful besides lunch. If you’ll walk a few hours east of here, you’ll come to a small clearing; Gorseberry Grove, it’s called.”
“Fruity’s Plaza?” Shadow perked up from behind Taylor. “I know where that is; we.... well, I had my commencement exercises there.”
“Just so.” Luna’s eyes gleamed a liquid teal as she looked at the group. “You’ll find a few friends there who also want to bid you farewell... and you may find something useful to you. A couple of somethings, actually. Although it’ll take a bit of work to make the gift usable, from what I understand.”
“More weapons?” Taylor looked at the dusky alicorn with a mistrustful expression. “I think we’re set in that department.”
Luna laughed abruptly, the sound clear in the still morning air. “I think you’ll find this riddle much easier to solve, Charles Taylor. And much more to your liking than my last one, I think.”
Taylor stamped a boot into the dirt and looked at Golden Sword. “Is she always like this?”
Sword was looking at the princess with something akin to adoration. “Not always. But when she is, it’s worth listening to her, Lieutenant.”
Luna’s wings flicked outward into full extension, and with a mighty sweep, they propelled her into the air. “Time for each of us to go. I’ve pushed my luck as it is, and you’re going to need all of yours in the days to come. I’ve managed to pull my little prank on fate, and now it’s up to you to make sure the trick works.” Her voice changed, sounding both young and ancient at once. “Go now, and may all our blessings follow you, children.”
“Lady, you’re nice and all, but I grew up a long time ago,” Thompson said.
The alicorn laughed again. “That’s what I told my sister a thousand years ago. It took me awhile to learn, too.” She rose up into the lightening sky, circling as she headed toward the needle-like tower that surmounted the castle’s central keep. “Farewell!”
Stivers found himself raising a hand reflexively, waving as he watched the dark shape rise higher and higher until it landed on a balcony high on the eastern side of the tower above. Peering upward, he could barely make out a white shape up there as well, one that stood still, as if waiting for something.
“Well, troops, I think that’s our cue.” He glanced over at Golden Sword. “Captain?”
“Well parted,” Golden Sword said in reply, suddenly smiling openly, the expression startling on his normally somber visage. “By all means, Captain. Let us gather our things and move out.” Shouldering the saddlepack marked for his own personal use, the gray pegasus took a moment to check that his sword was firmly seated in its scabbard. Nodding to himself, he took a step forward on the path leading out of the courtyard, pressing his hoof down hard to leave a clear mark in the soil.
After an hour of walking in a dual file column, the group’s encounter with the Princess had faded into the back of the minds of the company and small conversations had been struck up. Taylor and Midnight were arguing about the finer points of vegetarian cuisine, while Stivers and Golden Sword discussed the possible threats, tactics, and other mission-related details.
Gruebel and Gallivan had stricken up dialogue with Shadow and Crimson Hoof about the action that each side had seen. The ponies talked about fending off manticores and hydras and all sorts of creatures that seemed mystical to the humans. In turn, the pair of pilots talked about their tours through the Pacific Islands. Gallivan told a gruesome story of him watching a friendly soldier get pulled underwater by an alligator, never to be seen again. That made both the ponies and even Gruebel grow quiet. Gruebel had discussed stories he had heard of the prisoner camps that the Japanese had operated during the recently ended war, drawing silence out of Gallivan and shocked anger out of the ponies at the injustices he described.
Thompson uttered a low curse as the group shuffled slowly past a particularly dense thicket of blackberry bushes, the thorns seeming to reach out eagerly to grab and catch at the clothing of the humans. “I thought the place we’re going was well known,” he said in a peevish tone.
“Oh, it is,” Shadow replied immediately. “Almost everypony in Canterlot knows about Fruity’s Plaza, or at least has heard of it.”
“Then why are we wandering through the outback, and me without a machete?” Thompson paused to grab a handful of the blackberries, which hung invitingly. If the bushes wanted to make him bleed, they were damn well going to pay for it.
“Well, only the graduates got to go, and as I said, you have to be really good to be one of those, so it doesn’t get too many visitors, I guess.”
“I was gonna ask you about that,” Gallivan broke in. “Why is your hand-to-hand... I mean, your unarmed combat training so strict? Where I come from, bad injuries in training only happen by accident, and they’re almost never fatal.” He frowned and shook his head. “It just seems pretty goddamn brutal to me, honestly.”
“Oh, no, it isn’t with us, either. I took the basic course like everypony else in the Guard,” Shadow said. “Sergeant Gorseberry’s course is an optional one, for the toughest, the elite.” The pony arched his neck proudly. “I wanted to be one of the best of the best.”
Gallivan opened his mouth to reply, and closed it again. That was the reason he’d joined the Marine Corps himself. “Okay...well, I guess I can understand that. You seem pretty competent.”
“Thanks.”
“How long have you been in the Royal Guard?”
Shadow’s ears flattened back for a moment as a bramble scraped over the armor on his side with a tinny screech. “Um, about four years now.”
Gallivan looked at the guardspony sharply. “Really? With all that training? How come you’re not an officer yet? You seem smart enough.”
Shadow blinked in surprise and stared back at the human. “Why? They don’t get to have as much fun as I do.”
Thompson found this deliciously funny and burst out laughing. The sound was infectious, sweeping Gallivan and Shadow up together in its grip, the pony’s laughter occasionally including an odd, whinnying snort that would set all three of them off again. The early morning sunlight, which had been streaming out at them from between a low line of trees ahead, dimmed a bit as one of the fleecy white clouds scattered low overhead drifted in front of the fiery orb before them.
Gallivan wiped his eyes, letting a chuckle trail off. “God, definitely smarter than I thought. You should at least try for sergeant, though. Get that one extra stripe, I think it’d wear ok on you.”
“That’s what the Sub-Lieutenant keeps telling me,” Shadow said, nodding. “I don’t know, maybe when we get back from all this—”
“Shhhhh!” Gruebel’s hissing whisper cut across the entire column, humans and ponies all freezing motionless in place. “I think I heard something.”
“What?” Stivers looked around, seeing the private crouching down and glancing around them.
Gruebel slowly made his way up until he was even with the officers. “I don’t know, sir. It sounded like the wind almost....”
“Except there’s no wind.” Golden Sword replied in an equally hushed tone. It was true; the clouds above were moving about aimlessly in the upper airs, but down here at ground level it was almost still.
“Any idea where it came from?” Midnight asked.
“I don’t know, ma’am,” Gruebel replied quietly, shaking his head. “Almost from every direction at once. And I only heard it the one time; when we stopped, it seemed to go away.”
“We’re only a league or so from the castle, and things ought to be safe out here.” Sword frowned. “Still, perhaps we ought to-”
“Why are you all whispering?” The loud voice broke in on them from above, sounding very much amused. “Ya look like a bunch of fillies tryin’ to swap secrets in class.” The timbre of the voice, along with the odd little break it made in mid-sentence gave away the identity of its owner, and the group all glanced upward to see a familiar pegasus with a rainbow-hued mane peering at them through a hole in the cloud overhead.
“We are not ‘swapping secrets in class,’. Miss Dash,” Golden Sword said. “That gets you detention, if I remember correctly.”
“Been there, done that,” Rainbow Dash said. “You oughta try it sometime, Sourpuss. Have a little fun.” She ducked down through the cloud and hovered before them, seeming rather pleased with herself. “I’ve been sittin’ up there watchin’ you guys for a half-hour. You’re pretty slow.”
“Yeah, well, we all ain’t got wings, hon,” Taylor said, straightening up. “What’re you doin’ way out here spying on us?”
“Hey! I’m not a spy.” The pegasus glared at Taylor for a moment, but the smug expression soon resumed its place on her face. “We’ve all been waitin’ for you to get here. Hey Fluttershy!” Rainbow’s head tilted up to look at the cloud overhead. “Go tell Twilight they’re here!”
Another small opening appeared in the wispy cloud as the yellow pegasus’ face appeared, her pink mane and forelock framing her wide aquamarine eyes. “Yay,” she exclaimed softly. “Oh, they’re going to like this sooo much! I just can’t wait to tell Angel about it.” Her whole form emerged, and she circled them once overhead before zooming off toward the line of trees that lie directly ahead of them, flitting delicately through a gap between two of them. “Twiiiliiight!”
Midnight Arrow looked after her for a long moment, then turned to face Rainbow. “Twilight? The Element of Magic is here, too?”
“Yeah, we’re all here. Elements of Harmony present and accounted for!” Rainbow Dash sketched one of the sharpest salutes that Stivers had ever seen, her lopsided grin destroying the military precision of the pose. “C’mon, everypony’s waiting.”
Midnight’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “But what... I mean, we’re glad to see you, certainly, but why are you here?”
Rainbow shrugged as she landed among them and walked through the group, taking the lead. “Twilight got this funky letter from Princess Celestia last night, and then Princess Luna came by and we... well, it’s complicated stuff.” She glanced over one shoulder, her multi-hued tail flicking impatiently. “C’mon, you’ll see for yourself.”
As she led them toward the line of trees, Shadow spoke up. “Hey, this is it! We’re here. This is Fruity’s Plaza!”
The cyan colored pegasus in the lead gave him an odd look. “What, the clearing up here?”
“Yes.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Ohhh-kay... I don’t wanna know.” She led the group through one last thicket of tall bushes, the undergrowth fading away as they passed through the treeline. The sightline into the clearing was unblocked, now, and the humans all froze in place, gaping at the sight before them. Twin sights, actually.
Sights they had never expected to see again, much less encounter here, far from where they had left them, for the last time, they had assumed. Sights that seemed somewhat surreal now, after all they had seen since the humans had arrived, and yet ones so achingly familiar that all of them felt the tug of the world they had almost given up on.
Navy blue above, dove grey below, the two TBM Grumman Avenger bombers sat side by side before them, aircraft FT-28 on the left, and on the right, FT-117. The latter aircraft leaned drunkenly to one side, the main gear wheel and rudder assembly having been broken off when it had impacted the ground upon its initial arrival in Equestria. The missing items in question were now laid out neatly next to the damaged airframe, the bright edges of the torn aluminum rudder gleaming wickedly in the sun. Twilight Sparkle emerged from under FT-117, a glowing stack of papers hovering in mid-air before her as she grinned at them.
“Hey, everypony! We’ve got a little project here, and you’re lucky; I made a checklist of everything we need.” She clapped her forehooves together like a teacher summoning her students to their work. “Come on now, let’s get started!”
Midnight Arrow watched in mild amusement as the humans all made beelines to the two machines, clambering over them and calling out to each other like colts opening presents on Hearth’s Warming Day. Golden Sword had accompanied Captain Stivers and the two appeared to have a lively interchange going on while the human ducked under and climbed over the intact aircraft on the left. She stood for a moment, noting how the six Elements of Harmony were moving about, the Element of Magic having assumed immediate (and proper, to Midnight’s mind) command of the project, directing them as they began the task of assisting the humans in repairing the two flying contraptions.
“Fall out, everyone,” Midnight said finally. “Check in with the Element of Magic and see if you can help out in any way. Shadow, Hoof, let me know if she or the Captain need anything.”
“Yes ma’am.” The guard ponies all saluted smartly and headed over to where Twilight was dictating rapidly to her assistant, the baby dragon scribbling madly on the stack of sheets he held in one claw. Midnight took note of the length and thickness of the paperwork he held and shook her head. I hope you brought a quiver worth of quills for that batch.
Glancing once more over at Golden Sword, Midnight turned and walked idly over to the other aircraft, the one on the right with the pieces stacked next to it. She frowned as she circled the large, flat piece that lay on the short grass, examining it critically. The edges were mostly smooth, but one side had several noticeable dents in it, and the edge next to it looked ragged and torn. The pegasus glanced up at the aircraft itself and noticed a matching rent near the back end, above the flat, small wing. A couple of flaps hung down limply from it, and she grasped almost immediately that this must control the pitch, the up and down motion of the machine as it flew through the air. The large wing near the center of the machine must control the roll, then, just like a pegasus’ wings would, allowing it to bank and turn. But to turn, a pegasus also used her tail; otherwise you’d just roll around on your central axis and go nowhere until you made yourself airsick.
This broken piece must be part of the machine’s tail, then. If a pegasus had her tail clipped off or accidentally burned short in some freak accident, you just had to walk around on the ground and deal with the funny looks until it grew back enough to help you steer. Midnight knew very well that metal didn’t grow back, however, and until the tail piece was reattached somehow, this aircraft wasn’t going to get very far.
“Oh, you look so glum,” a voice spoke from beside her. “Don’t worry, Pinkie Pie says she can fix it up in a jiffy.”
Midnight’s head snapped up and around to see Fluttershy standing next to her. “I’m s-sure she can,” she managed to stammer out. “I mean, after all, you’re the Elements of Harmony. You always find a way to do what needs to be done.”
“Of course. Because I have the best friends a pony could ever have.” Fluttershy smiled radiantly, and Midnight Arrow felt a slow flush creeping up under the short fur of her cheeks. “Is it true that you’re going to go with those big, noisy people on a journey?” the yellow pegasus asked her.
“Yes, it’s true. Captain Sword, our best guards and I are all going to accompany them.”
Fluttershy’s voice dropped, her ears lowering a bit. “Is it... will it be dangerous?”
“Possibly.” Midnight glanced critically once more at the damaged tail section before her. “We’ll be traveling far from here into the gryphon lands... places I’ve not been before, to help them find something that can send them back to their own home. We’re not going to go looking for trouble, but... strangers in strange lands, trouble tends to find you.” She suddenly clapped her mouth shut, aware that she was rambling. The mission was supposed to be secret, although the Elements had obviously been made aware of some aspect of the plan, otherwise they wouldn’t be here. To just blurt out their objective was so unprofessional, however... Sweet Celestia, filly, what’s wrong with you?/
“Oh... my.” The mention of the word ‘gryphon’ had made Fluttershy’s ears pin back against her head in obvious alarm. “Will you... are you, I mean... do you think you’ll be okay?” Her voice had dropped almost to a whisper.
Midnight glanced up at her, the odd change in tone breaking through her own musings. “Why, I should think so. Like I said, the Captain and our guards will be with me... and those... big, noisy people seem to be able to handle themselves well enough.” She offered the other pegasus a small smile. “I’ll be fine, I’m certain. But it’s nice of you to ask, Element of Kindness. Your title fits you well.”
A pink rosette appeared under the fur on Fluttershy’s cheeks, and she returned the smile, her ears perking back up. “That’s good to hear. But you know my name, Midnight.”
The Sub-Lieutenant looked away sharply. “I wouldn’t presume, ma’am.”
“Midnight... it’s me. Remember in the forest? You called me by name, then.”
Midnight Arrow’s jaws clenched visibly, her heart beating rapidly. “I was... weak, then. And I shouldn’t have presumed to-”
“I thought we went over this. You weren’t weak.” The yellow pegasus’ voice came on strong, now. “You were my friend, and you still are. You’re strong and brave and you helped out when it mattered. You’ve earned the right to call me by my real name.”
Midnight shook her head. “I only did my duty... what I should have done.”
Fluttershy lifted a forehoof and touched the dusky pegasus under the chin, lifting her head up so their eyes met. “I wasn’t talking about your duty, Sub-Lieutenant. I was talking about you, Midnight, my friend.” Her eyes wavered a bit. “Please, call me by my name.”
Midnight’s cheek twitched, the touch under her chin tingling. “Fluttershy... I... that is, can I...”
“Midnight!” Golden Sword’s voice carried across the clearing. “Come over here for a moment, I think we need your help on this.”
The pegasus jerked her head aside, cheeks aflame, but the Captain’s back was turned to her, his head almost covered by a large metal flap he was peering under. “Yes sir, be right there!” She turned back to Fluttershy, her tail twitching rapidly back and forth as her voice returned to normal. “I... I’ll be right back, okay?”
Fluttershy nodded and offered her a small, sweet smile that touched the depths of her aquamarine eyes. “Go on. I’ll be here.”
Stivers sat on the edge of his plane’s wing, rubbing it as if it was a newborn baby. The aircraft now sat upright and level, a makeshift wooden support holding up the right side where Twilight and Rarity had levitated it into place. He glanced longingly back at the tail fin that read ‘117’ and sighed deeply. “You are definitely a sight for sore eyes, girl.”
A giggle sounded next to him, and he glanced over to see Pinkie Pie perched on the wing beside him. How she had made her way onto the metal surface without making a sound was beyond him, but the marine Captain was getting pretty good at starting to tune these events out. “Well, hello.”
“Howdy!” Pinkie grinned at him, her intense blue-eyed stare seeming to bore through him. “Do you always talk to your flying machine?”
“Sometimes, I guess.” Stivers suddenly felt self-conscious.
“So,” the pink earth pony queried. “What’s it like to fly? I flew once, but my flying machine got broken by this mean old meanie gryphon. Well, actually, the ground broke it when I crashed into it, but she’s the one that made me crash, so I guess she still broke it even though she didn’t actually break it.”
The marine responded with a blank stare, still trying to figure out how she had got up there beside him. “Um. Flying is...good, I guess?”
“Oh come on!” She responded indignantly. “That’s what Dashie and Fluttershy always say. There has to be more than that!”
“Not really. If you want to know so bad, go ask Taylor.” Stivers said as he pointed a thumb at the man who was hugging the other aircraft so hard, it looked like it would snap the metal. “He’s the one who loves flying. Besides, I never—”
The pink pony was already gone.
“...completed flight school.” he finished in a hushed tone.
“Well then, sir. We’d best get started welding this...” Gallivan deadpanned pointing at the tail of FT-117. “Oh. The tail is already re-attached. When’d you do that, sir?”
Stivers raised an eyebrow at the crazy insinuation that in mere minutes, the tail had been put back in place.
Looking behind himself, Stivers noticed that the tail was indeed re-attached to the plane, the seam where it had been resealed to the fuselage gleaming brightly. “How the fuck...” he mumbled. Looking under the plane, he saw Applejack holding the broken main gear wheel firmly in place next to the strut under the right wing. The pony turned her head away, protecting her face as silver-white sparks began arcing from behind the wheel hub where Greubel worked at welding it in place. “Hey, I didn’t know you were such a good welder, Greubel.”
“Sir, I just started.” Greubel dropped his hand from where he had been shielding his eyes and looked up at his commanding officer.
Stivers deadpanned. “Then who welded the tail on?? Where did we get a welding torch anyway?”
“Um, sir, There is no way the tail is welded on. I’ve had the torch, which was kindly provided by Pinkie Pie, for this entire time. There is no way I sleep welded it on either.” Looking to the rear of the plane, Greubel did a double take. “Or maybe there is?”
“Pinkie did it.” Applejack said nonchalantly, running a forehoof over the large rubber tire before her with interest. “Boy howdy, if mah apple carts had a couple o’ these babies hooked on...”
“What do you mean Pinkie did it?” Stivers asked. “She was talking to me not five minutes ago.”
“Aw, that’s just Pinkie Pie bein’ Pinkie Pie.” The orange mare said, waving her hoof absently. “Ya get used to it.”
“You know what?” The Captain asked rhetorically. “I don’t even care right now. I’m gonna go check the guns. Gallivan, you coming?”
“Sure thing, Cap,” the Sergeant stated. “Got nothing better to do.” Gallivan ducked under the wing and began inspecting the gun mounts on the leading edge. Stivers, still atop the wing, leaned to one side and opened up the loading port for the machine gun ammunition. He ran a hand lightly over the belted .50 caliber shells, feeling for any odd lumps or kinks in the feed tray. Everything seemed well enough, and if it wasn’t, well, there was no ordnance shop anywhere nearby that he knew of. If the weapons jammed, they jammed. Besides, he wasn’t expecting any Zeros or Messerschmidts to come swarming after them. Nevertheless, he was glad they hadn’t expended any of the gun ammo on their practice runs, just in case. There were some weird critters in this strange new land, and not all of them might be as helpful as the current company he was in.
“Starboard mounts look good, sir.” Gallivan’s head peeked over the edge of the wing. “A few scratches and dings, but nothing that’ll keep them from working when the time comes. I’ll go check the port side out.”
“No dings, huh?” Taylor came walking over, wiping his hands on a bit of loose cloth. “That reminds me...what’s brown and sounds like a bell?”
Stivers glanced helplessly at Gruebel and Applejack, but the two had returned to work on the landing gear, and he was on his own. “I give up,” he said, sliding down off the wing and landing on his feet next to the Lieutenant. “What?”
“Dung!” Taylor beamed.
Stivers reached up to his own face and rubbed his eyes. “You made that up yourself, didn’t you?”
“Just now,” Taylor agreed. “How you lookin’?”
“Starting to get shipshape. Pinkie did....something, to the tail. Anyway, it’s back where it’s supposed to be. Too bad we already dropped the bombs, but that was what we were supposed to be doing, at the time. Rest of the ordnance looks good, at least what’s left. ”
Taylor’s eyebrows lifted at the mention of ordnance. “All of it?”
“Seems to be.” They both crouched and peered under the wing at the other bit of armament the Avenger bombers carried. Beneath each wing of both aircraft was mounted a 58 gallon drop tank of fuel. Nestled outboard of each of these was a rack of four HVAR five-inch rockets, designed to be used against ground targets that required a bit more punch than a machine gun could provide. Armor piercing high explosive warheads tipped each one, with enough muscle to knock out a tank if required. The things were notoriously inaccurate at range, however, not good much beyond four thousand yards, but the sight of them was comforting to Stivers. “How’s your bird?”
“Not bad, actually...pretty much as I left her,” Taylor said. He turned and walked over to the other aircraft, Stivers following along in his wake. “The instrument panel’s still shot to shit; I’ll just have to deal with it, though. Damned electrical fire.”
The two officers stopped in front of FT-28, and Stivers took a moment to pause and admire the clean lines of the aircraft. Good old aluminum, steel, wood and Plexiglass, all made in America and assembled by General Motors for this particular warplane, the Grumman production lines being overloaded with orders at the time. “That’s gonna make navigation fun for you.”
“Eh, that’s not a problem.” Taylor reached out and patted the side of the engine cowling. “I can fly this thing with my eyes closed.”
“Oh, is that how we got here, then?” Stivers said with a straight face. “It was you leading the navigation exercise, if I remember correctly.”
Taylor made a rude gesture. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, the compasses won’t work here anyway, not that they were very good before. And I can gauge my airspeed by the sound of the engine pitch.”
Rainbow Dash, who had been standing nearby and inspecting the wing’s leading edge with a professional eye, blinked and looked at him. “Really? With those little things?” She pointed with a forehoof at Taylor’s ear. “You can’t even move them.”
“Hon, I’ve been listening to aircraft engines sputter and roar since you were.in diapers.”
Rainbow made her own rude gesture, the rich content of which Taylor totally missed. “Horseapples. I was flying when I was in diapers.”
This managed to bring the pilot to a standstill. “No shit?”
“No shit.” The look on the pegasus’ face was practically a study in smugness. “So...what were you doing when you were in diapers? Or are you still using them?” She somehow managed an innocent expression for ten whole consecutive seconds. “I’m not really sure about your age, ya know...”
Taylor was struggling to work up a retort to this when Stivers stepped in. “All right you two, enough fun. Let’s do a walkdown on both of these, just like you taught us, Lieutenant.”
“Yeah, okay.”
The two started slowly down the right side of the aircraft, checking the cowl flaps, the engine exhaust ports, and numerous other fittings and receptacles. Stivers noticed sparks flying away from the other aircraft as another fit of welding took place, but he put it out of his head and kept his focus on what he was doing. If either of them missed some important detail, a loose flap, a torn hose, the aircraft and everyone in it could quickly be turned into scrap metal in an eyeblink. He eyed the machine guns in the starboard wing, debating whether or not to try to zero them in before they left, and decided not to. Golden Sword had said nothing regarding the aircraft other than the fact that they seemed to be a serviceable, if somewhat awkward, means of flying. If he was unaware of the teeth the birds carried, well, that was one little surprise Stivers meant to keep to himself for the moment. Now I have my own little ace in the hole.
He stopped suddenly, brow furrowing in consternation. “What the fiddledy-fuck is that thing?”
“What?” Taylor looked up from inspecting the portside landing gear. “Something wrong?”
“Yeah. I’ve been preflighting these birds all through school, and I never saw one of these before.” Stivers reached out and dinged a finger off a metal mount that was welded to the upper surface of the starboard wing. Looking it over, he saw three more, laid out in a rectangular pattern along with the first. The mounts were semi-circular, four to five inches wide and about three inches in height in front, tapering off in a half-moon crescent shape. “When did these get put on?”
“Those weren’t on there when I took off,” Taylor said firmly, all humor gone from his voice now. “They look like weapons mounts, almost... but I’ve got over three thousand hours in this type of aircraft, and I’ve never seen a bulletin from BuOrd about anything like this. Besides, who puts a weapon rack on top of the wing?” He ducked under the airplane for a moment. “Shit, there’s two sets of them on the port side. What the hell is this?” He reappeared, narrowly missing banging his head on the engine exhaust pipe as he straightened up. “Are they on yours, too?”
“I don’t think so... I didn’t see any when I was up on the wing earlier.” Frowning, Stivers turned and walked back toward his own aircraft, where Pinkie Pie was bounding down from the port side wing. “Whoa... wait. There’s some on mine, too.” He reached out to touch one, and jerked his hand back quickly; the mount he had tried to touch was still glowing with heat from a recent weld. “Pinkie! Did you do this?”
“Huh? Oh, sure, silly!” She laughed gaily, twirling the welding torch like an Old West gunslinger before setting it down carefully on a flat rock. “They’re wing-shoes!”
“Wing-what?”
“Wing-shoes,” Midnight Arrow said, trotting over to them. “It was Pinkie’s idea, really. We’ll ride along with you on those.”
Shining Star, who had been nibbling at the short grass absently, straightened with a jerk and stared at Midnight. “We will?”
“Yes. Captain Sword and I have been looking over your machines, Captain Stivers, and they’re not particularly roomy inside, if you know what I mean.” Midnight gestured at the bomb bays, long since empty of their load. “We looked at those hatches on the bottom, but after I talked with Lieutenant Taylor about them, we decided they wouldn’t make a very safe place to ride around in.”
“And standing on the wing in mid-air while we’re going two hundred knots is safer?”
She looked at him primly and extended her own wings. “These still work, sir. But machines don’t get tired. I, however, do, eventually. If we ride along, we won’t have to stop as often to rest.” She closed her wings and shrugged. “Besides, there’s a little side benefit you’ll have from it; I spoke to Lieutenant Taylor about it the other day.”
“Maybe I missed out on that...you wanna recap that for me?” Taylor stepped over.
“Wind resistance...or the lack thereof.” She laughed as Taylor’s eyes lit up in recognition. “We can’t get rid of all of it, your machines are too big and they wouldn’t work anyway if we did, from what I gathered. You won’t go any faster, either; I understand the fact that you have a top speed limit, just like we do. However-”
“We can throttle back, still hit cruising speed and save some fuel along the way,” Stivers said. “Holy shit. Pinkie Pie, you’re a genius.”
“Great!” The pink earth pony jumped into the air and turned a somersault before landing. “Does that mean we can have your farewell party now?”
“Uhhh... I don’t think we’re gonna have time for that.” Stivers crouched down and held out his hand. “Tell you what, though. If we make it back, you can have a welcome back party. And I’ll buy the drinks this time.”
Pinkie stilled suddenly. “Even with hot sauce?”
“Hell yes.”
She leaned close to him, peering at him with one bright blue eye. “You Pinkie-Pie promise?”
Stivers didn’t know where to go with that one, but just shrugged. “Sure, whatever that means. A promise is a promise in my book.”
“Welllll, then... okay!” Pinkie Pie clapped her forehoof against Stivers’ extended hand, then bounded into the air again and bounced off toward the other ponies. “Boy have I got a welcome back party to plan! I need streamers and balloons and party favors and cake and ice cream and...”
Thompson walked up to Stivers, eyeing the pink pony warily as she pogoed up and down, still rattling off a list of party supplies. “Sir, we’ve pretty much finished up with the repairs, and the aircraft look okay, as far as I can tell. If we’re gonna go, now’s as good a time as any to do it.”
“Good enough.” Stivers looked over at Taylor. “Well, Lieutenant? This is your specialty, not mine.” He came to attention. “How do you want to handle the crews?”
Taylor blinked in surprise, then collected himself. “Um. Okay. Three and two split on crews, both groups. You take Gruebel and Gallivan, they’re your normal crew anyway. Midnight!”
Midnight Arrow and the other ponies blinked at the odd change of tone in Taylor’s voice. “Yes?”
“Would you and Shining Star mind riding with Captain Stivers?”
Midnight nodded. “I’d be delighted.”
“Good.” Taylor turned to the others. “Thompson, you’re with me in the rear turret.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
“Captain Sword, Hoof, Shadow, you’re on my wing.” Taylor grinned. “Literally.”
“Very well, Lieutenant.” Sword turned to the other ponies. “Equipment check, and mount up. Let’s move, ladies, the day’s burning away while we stand here.” A chorus of acknowledgements floated through the air as the group scattered, gathering up their things.
As Stivers turned to head toward his aircraft, Golden Sword cut him off. “Captain, a moment please, before we go.”
“Sure.” The Marine looked at him curiously. “What’s up?”
Sword stood, seemingly irresolute for a moment, and then snorted. “I have something for you.” He ducked his head and opened one of the flaps of the saddlepack strapped across his shoulders and back. Rummaging inside for a moment, he pulled a loosely bound package free with his teeth and tossed it through the air to Stivers. “You may need these.”
Stivers caught the bundle awkwardly, feeling hard angles inside of it. “I’m guessing this isn’t a sandwich.” He pulled the drawstring that held the bundle together and unwrapped it, revealing another set of familiar metal shapes. “Our pistols?!”
“Yes. They’re not doing anyone any good in the armory at Canterlot, and no one can use the damned things anyway, except you.” Sword cocked his head oddly. “Besides, you never know when you might need them, yes?”
“You’d better believe it.” Stivers pulled one of the sidearms free and holstered it immediately. “I’ll give the other one to Taylor before we take off. Thanks, Captain. I’m surprised the Princesses let us have them back, honestly.”
Sword’s cheek twitched. “They don’t know about it.”
“What?”
“Princess Luna is not the only one willing to break a rule in service to her country, Captain.” The grey pegasus stood at attention. “Let’s get going, then, shall we?” He turned about smartly and trotted over toward Taylor’s aircraft, yelling at Shadow to hurry up and stow his pack before they left him behind. Behind him, Stivers stood watching for a moment, feeling an abrupt feeling of shame creeping over his face. He’d never bothered to tell the other Captain about the extra weapons on board the aircraft, and the deception suddenly seemed petty and small to him, part of a child’s game that he should have outgrown.
Still, you never know, he told himself as he strode over towards Taylor with the bundle still clutched in one hand. An ace in the hole is never a bad thing to have, especially if somebody else joins the game.
Midnight Arrow crouched on her place on the wing of Stivers’ aircraft as the engine caught with a whine, followed by a coughing roar. Her ears pinned back against her head in fear at the sound, a snarling growl that she imagined might come from the belly of a dragon. A very hungry, angry one that was far too close to her for comfort.
Thank Celestia we don’t have to go fight one of those, she thought. She lifted her head a bit, noting the violent blast of wind that pushed against the grass below the airplane’s nose. Hardly a feather moved on her wings, however, and her theory seemed sound, for the moment. She caught a bit of banter between Stivers and the other two humans in the airplane, the group obviously pleased at the prospect of being airborne once more. It was a feeling she shared. She’d not undertaken a journey of any real length in some time, and the promise of this one filled her with a feeling of excitement and hope. I’ll bet we’ll have some real stories to take back to Canterlot when we get home.
Getting back... that was always the trick, wasn’t it? She straightened suddenly, her eyes widening. “Captain! Captain Stivers! Wait a moment, please!”
The pilot craned his head to look at her out of the still open cockpit window. “Sure thing, I’m just letting her warm up. You forget something?”
“Actually, yes. It won’t take a moment, I promise.” Midnight pulled her hooves clear of the shoe-like mounts on the wing and stepped off to the rear carefully; the whirring vibration of the propeller made her nervous in a deep, instinctual way. She glanced about, then broke into a jog, running past the tail of the aircraft over toward where the Elements of Harmony stood lined up in a row, waving energetically. All of them but one, and that was the one she was focussed on now.
“Fluttershy,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath, “I’m so sorry. Everything was so busy, and I wanted to ask you, but there was no time to talk, and now we have to go.”
The yellow pegasus smiled at her. “Ask me what?”
“Well, I...” Suddenly aware of the stares of the other ponies, Midnight flattened her ears. “It’s... it’s kind of... well.” She leaned her head down, her nose almost touching Fluttershy’s ear, quiet words muttered between them that were lost to the others in the rising noise of the taxiing aircraft. Finishing her short, crude speech, as she thought of it, Midnight stepped back, feeling her own heartbeat in her ears and cheeks, and waited for the explosion.
It never came. Instead, Fluttershy simply tilted her head, eyelids lowering a bit. “I’d like that,” she said quietly. “Very much, Midnight.”
The Sub-Lieutenant exhaled sharply, unaware that she’d been holding her breath. “Really?”
“Yes.” Fluttershy peered out at her now from under a sheaf of pink mane, her own cheeks reddening a bit. “Please, do.”
A yell, half caught by the noise from the bombers, carried across to them, and she saw Stivers waving an arm at her. Midnight backed away, half-turned, then stopped and looked back. “I’ll be back. No matter what, I’ll be back. Okay?”
“I know.” The yellow pegasus’ eyes glimmered. “I’ll be here.”
Midnight held the image in her gaze for a fleeting second that lasted forever, and then turned to run for the howling aircraft.
A/N: Well, This week we have a present for you. First off, we are on time. Second, this chapter is over 9000 words. Please don’t expect this out of us every week. I have a large feeling that the reason so much got done, was the fact that I didn’t do too much writing this time. I generously donated the chapter to Ty and Dave. I only wrote a few sections in the middle and end.
Maybe I should take more time off?
As to what Midnight said: let the speculation begin!
Do you guys still have a problem with notes if they’re at the bottom? Or should I cut em completely?
Have fun reading this, as always, point out any errors and stuff.
~Goldenarbiter
Those of you with a historical bent will note I have taken a few liberties with Luna’s presents, along with a bit of physics. I’ve tried to follow the alicorn’s example of bending a rule or two without sending it past the breaking point, mainly for story’s sake. I hope it works for you. If not...well, I’ll get back from the moon somehow.
Taylor gripped the stick in his hands, feeling its rough edges. He felt the ridges where his fingers were placed, noting that the bump between his pinky and his ring finger had been slightly worn down from the way he gripped the yoke. He knew that this was his plane, nothing had changed about it, save the colourful ponies attached to the wings. This was his heaven, he held his life in his own hands, they didn’t rest in some jarhead’s or in some eternal flying unicorn. It was his and his alone, he was free again.
He was so caught up in the flight that he almost forgot where he was and when he looked out the canopy window, the sight of the ponies attached to his wing almost scared him. The hard stare of Golden Sword snapped him out of his trance and forced his mind back on the mission at hand, albeit a bit carelessly.
Out of sheer reflex, he glanced at the instruments, a casual scan that he had done literally hundreds of times, but the one quick glance revealed the same charred panel in front of him. The airspeed indicator was completely obliterated, and his altimeter currently showed him cruising at seventy-two thousand feet; a quick glance out of the window definitely confirmed that measurement was way off. Not to mention the fact that he was still breathing comfortably without an oxygen mask. A quick visual estimate put them at about seven to eight thousand feet, right where he wanted to be. He returned his gaze to the forward windscreen and listened carefully to the steady thrum of the radial engine in front of him. The pitch of it sounded fairly normal, but his climb rate after takeoff had seemed to be a bit slower than was usual, and he made a mental note to mention that to Stivers.
Taylor glanced out his right wing, past the form of Shadow over to where the other Avenger lay just below and behind him in perfect step-down formation. He could see Stivers alternately glancing down at his instruments and then up again, out of the cockpit and all around. Even in this environment, the other pilot had his head on a swivel, Taylor noted with approval, keeping an eye out for anything that might appear.
Taylor reached up with one hand and activated the throat mike he wore. “Lead to 117. I’m a bit sluggish in my climb rate, how about you?”
Stivers’ voice crackled in his ears with a crisp tone. “Roger lead, same here. I’m guessing it has something to do with our wingmates.”
“Shit, I should have thought of that,” Taylor mumbled, still holding the throat microphone with a loose grip.
“What was that? I didn’t copy.”
“Disregard. Okay, noted, just keep an eye on it.” Taylor glanced once more at his instrument panel, then swallowed his pride like a professional. “Keep an eye on your temperature gauges and make sure they don’t creep up on us or something. I can’t get any readings from this panel and if it’s something slow I don’t want to find out after my engine blows.”
“Roger lead, will do. Out.”
Glancing once more at the other bomber, Taylor returned his gaze to the landscape that was passing by slowly under them.
He watched as the mountain where Canterlot lay slowly slipped into the distance behind him, the environment being replaced by the grassy fields much of this new land was covered by. The landscape around him was dotted here and there with forests, lush and green.
Glancing over to his left wing, the Lieutenant saw Captain Sword, hanging from his new mounts like a spider in a wind tunnel. “Hey Sword!” Taylor yelled from the open cockpit, trying to get the grey pony’s attention over the drumming of the engine. He was rewarded by the same pony looking his way with an inquisitive look in his eye. “How you like the speed?” he yelled again.
Sword opened his mouth and started speaking in an inaudible low tone, drowned out by the cataclysmic noise before him.
“Speak up! We can’t hear you!”
“It’s really loud!” he shouted, his ears pinned back to ward against the obnoxiously repetitive noise that was berating his senses. “Any way to make it quieter?” he pleaded.
“Nope!” Taylor answered, a boyish smile adorning his face.
Sword, who couldn’t hear him, had evidently learned to read his lips and replied with an evil glare, before going back to covering his ears. Taylor felt somewhat guilty about the pony’s discomfort, but there was really nothing he could do about the noise level. The pilot glanced past the Captain to the other occupant of the port wing. Crimson Hoof appeared to be humming to himself, if that was at all possible. The Corporal was crouched slightly, his wings outstretched and even bouncing a little in time to whatever tune was running through his head.
Taylor grinned to himself at this and glanced once more down at the passing landscape. Taking note of a particular stream they were crossing over, he looked down at the map Luna had provided them with, mentally gauging the distance they had crossed since leaving the clearing earlier this morning. He reached up and activated the microphone once more. “Lead to 117. Twenty degree right turn in two minutes... I think.”
Stivers amusement carried clearly over the radio waves. “You don’t sound very certain about that, Taylor.”
“Yeah, well, this map ain’t standard issue, either. Like the man said once, we’re navigating by guess and by God.” He tucked the map back into a leather pocket mounted to the sidewall of the cockpit and settled himself back into the seat.
Two minutes later both aircraft banked smoothly towards the southeast, the contours and color of the landscape below them slowly changing as they flew on. The deep, lush greens of the plains and grassland below them began to fade out, beginning to be replaced gradually by warmer tans and brown. The area appeared much less developed, and in the distance, the land below took on a more earthy tone in general, the green disappearing almost entirely.
As the sun overhead reached its zenith and began a long, slow descent towards the west, both the pilots and the ponies began to detect an increasing dryness in the air. The ground below them became gradually more desolate, with the greenery fading out almost entirely. Scrub brush was evident off towards their right, with ravines dotting the ground here and there where rain had washed out sections of the land. Off to their eastward on the left, the scrub gave up its fight and surrendered to the golden brown of sand dunes, their sinuous curves arching away into the distance as far as their sharp eyes could see.
Taylor made a quick comm to Stivers, and then raised his voice to shout over the engine. “Captain! Hey, Sword!”
The grey pegasus had been riding on the wing with his eyes closed for some time now. He opened them and regarded Taylor with a long-suffering gaze. “What?”
“I need you to start keeping an eye out ahead. Let me know if you see any place that looks white and shiny when the sun hits it.”
Sword tilted his head curiously. “Shiny? Are we prospecting for gems now, too?”
“No, salt.”
The pony blinked at that. “What in Celestia’s name for?”
“Because if we’re going to land these things and use them again, I need someplace flat and open to land them in.” Taylor pointed out the cockpit at the hilly crests of dunes that lay ahead. “If we try to touch down on that, we’ll crack up.”
Sword stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then awareness dawned on him. The pegasi could easily touch down on any terrain as light as a feather. The heavy aircraft they rode on, however, was not as nimble. Sword relayed the request to Hoof, and Taylor did likewise for Shadow on the opposite wing. Together, the occupants of both aircraft began scanning the ground ahead and to both sides intently as the minutes passed by.
After a half-hour of searching along their course, doubt began to slowly creep into Taylor’s mind, nibbling at the edges of his consciousness with sharp rat teeth. They’d been lucky up to this point, rolling sixes and sevens, but it really had been presumptuous of them to assume that just because they could get the aircraft fixed and useable again, that they would be able to find landing spots when they were needed. One of the cardinal rules of flight was that you needed to have as many landings as you did take-offs. A shortage in that particular ledger was going to have bad effects on your flight record, and possibly your life expectancy as well. All of the Flight 19 crew had parachutes strapped on; that was basic flight procedure. Bailing out of an aircraft was always a tricky proposition, however, as you were then gambling on the damned parachute actually opening without fouling, as well as hoping that you didn’t drift down onto something sharp and pointy.
The Avenger bombers were simply too handy to just throw away, however. They would shorten the journey considerably, and were able to carry supplies that the adventurers would otherwise have to carry on their backs. They had heavier armament than anything else the pilots had seen in this strange land thus far. Plus, Taylor admitted to himself, they were a familiar piece of home that he couldn’t just walk away from. That fact alone carried with it a strong connection to the machines that was more intense than he’d ever experienced before. Being a pilot, actually performing the act of flying, was Taylor’s natural element. Up to this point, he had simply been going through the motions and generally following Stivers’ lead. Right now he felt like he belonged, like he made a difference with every decision, every maneuver that he made, and that was something that the Navy pilot wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to give up. If they failed, if they were trapped here...No. I will not think about that, dammit. Get your head out of your ass. Taylor shook himself out of his reverie and began scanning the ground from left to right again.
A shout from Stivers over the headphones grabbed his attention. “Tallyho, three o’clock. Think there’s an old lake bed over there.”
Taylor’s head snapped to the right, and he leaned over, eyes straining against the distance and the heat waves ripping in the air. “Are you sure? I can’t eyeball it from here.”
Gruebel’s voice crackled in his ears. “Confirmed, sir, at our 3:30 position off to the west. I’ve got my binocs on it now. Damn, you have sharp eyes, Cap.” There was a moment’s silence. “We goin’ for it?”
“Let’s take a look at it and see if it’ll work. Ninety degree starboard turn in three, two, one, mark.” Taylor shifted the bomber into a gentle bank to the right, easing back level as they flew towards the afternoon sun. “Okay, I see it. Let’s go to line ahead, drop down to two thousand and check it out.”
“Roger.” Stivers aircraft slid backwards out of Taylor’s sight, drifting over until it was directly behind him. The two Avengers slowly descended together, the detail on the ground becoming more clear. The dunes lay behind them now, the land before them an arid plain with creosote bushes and the occasional cactus making an appearance, the growths becoming more numerous the further west they flew. The object that Stivers had sighted was indeed an old lake bed, its contents long evaporated into the dry air. Leftover salt deposits glittered a vicious silver-white in the sunlight, the whole object stretching out for a good three to four hundred meters from east to west, and about half of that as wide. It looked reasonably level from altitude, but Taylor knew from experience that there would be random drops and bumps when you touched down. They would have to ride out the landing by feel, trying to keep the aircraft straight and level until their airspeed bled away enough to avoid getting bumped back into the air by an unexpected lump in the surface.
“So, we goin’ for it?” Gruebel’s voice asked again.
“It looks good enough to me, and I don’t see any reason to push our luck further today. We might as well stop and rest here for the night.”
“Roger.” Stivers’ reply was short and terse.
“Thank God.” Thompson, who had remained virtually silent since takeoff, breathed an audible sigh of relief. “I have to piss like a horse.”
Taylor laughed. “I’m guessing our passengers do too.” He glanced over at Sword on his port wing. For all Taylor knew, the ponies could simply let fly into the slipstream and you wouldn’t be the wiser. They had the option of simply dropping off, however, landing to take care of business, and then rejoining like a fighter coming back to land on a carrier at sea. It would require the bombers to slow down considerably, however, and Taylor was willing to bet that the proud guard captain would sooner burst than admit discomfort of any sort.
Taylor tilted the Avenger into a slight bank to port and let it settle back into level flight of its own accord. “Okay, looks like what wind there is up here is out of the west, so let’s treat this as our upwind leg. We’ll circle around, do our downwind leg and touch down.”
“Roger.” Stivers’ reply was again clipped and terse.
Taylor frowned at the windscreen before him. “Everything okay?”
“Affirmative. I’ve just never done a rough landing like this before, that’s all.”
Taylor banked the bomber to the left in a gentle turn, beginning the descent. “No sweat,” he said, his voice taking on what the other pilots had called “Professor Taylor” tone. “Slide up here on my wing and we’ll go in together, okay? You’ve done rough field landings before in basic flight with the Piper, this is practically the same thing.”
“Yeah, that was on a grass strip, Lieutenant.” As they finished the turn and headed back east, Stivers’ Avenger slid up until it was even on Taylors right wing. “Not exactly the same thing, ya know?”
“Still got the same problems to deal with on touchdown. Just keep your plane level and let the speed bleed off on its own. Stay off the brakes until your tailwheel touches down.” The two aircraft continued to descend, and Taylor began another bank to his left in preparation for the landing leg. As they straightened out and lined up again once more, he leaned over and shouted out of the window. “Captain Sword!”
The pony looked at him wearily once more. “Yes?”
“I want all of you to take off. I mean, jump away from the aircraft and land on your own, okay?”
“Certainly. Why?”
“Because landing is always dangerous for us, and we normally try to land on special strips of ground that are smoothed out for us.” Taylor kept his voice level. “If we fuck this up and blow up, I don’t want to take the five of you with us.”
Golden Sword’s eyes grew wide. “That’s... understandable. Thank you for the warning.”
Thompson’s voice sounded from behind Taylor in the cockpit. “Gee, thanks Lieutenant, I feel so much better back here after hearing that.”
A confident grin snuck its way onto Taylor’s face. “You know your comfort is my only desire, Thompson.” Even with the possibility of smashing his plane into tiny tiny bits on the hard ground below, Taylor was relaxed as ever, and he couldn’t let the chance to ruffle the feathers of his new crewmates escape, both literally and metaphorically.
Drawing his attention back onto the impromptu landing site, Taylor flicked the switch that extended the landing gear. There was a thump and a whine from the hydraulics underneath him, and he felt two satisfying bumps as the wheels locked into place. A quick glance over at Stivers’ aircraft showed him matching the maneuver as well. Taylor’s peripheral vision caught the ponies on his wings moving upward and back away from him as they spread their wings and dropped away from the aircraft. As they moved off, his engine noise changed pitch abruptly, and Taylor quickly added some throttle to the aircraft to maintain his airspeed.
“Next time we do this,” he said into his microphone, “the ponies come off before we’re on final.”
“No argument here,” Stivers’ reply came back immediately. “Mine took off right after yours did, and it was like I’d dropped flaps completely or something. I almost shit myself.”
“No problem, we’re not exactly following a manual with that procedure, there.” Taylor looked ahead. “And speaking of flaps, time for ours.” He flipped a switch on the blackened control panel in front of him, and the trailing edges of the bomber’s wings extended to the rear and down, slowing him even more and providing enough lift to keep him airborne at landing speed. Another quick glance at Stivers showed his flaps in position as well. “Okay, here we go. Just stay on my wing and ride her in easy. Main gear only; don’t try a three-point on this shit or you’ll bounce like a rubber ball.”
“Roger.”
The two aircraft flew in tandem, descending slowly down toward the hard, baked surface below them, their shadows trailing behind them but creeping closer as they neared the ground. The edge of the dry lake bed passed beneath them, and both planes seemed to hesitate for a moment, almost straining as if they wanted to climb back up into the clear, blue sky where they truly belonged. Finally, the main landing gear touched down, throwing up an immediate plume of dust and salt behind them that shot up and then curled away in odd patterns from the swirling vortices of the propellers.
Taylor felt the gentle bounce, and then a rapid shuddering as his speed bled away on the desert floor. The aircraft rattled and banged, loose items in the pockets on the sides of the cockpit bouncing around and threatening to fly up into his lap. Easing the throttle back, he concentrated on holding the airplane as centered as he could, pushing the rudder pedals with his feet in gentle taps to keep from drifting to one side or the other. As they decelerated, the aircraft began tilting slowly backward, the nose beginning to climb and point to the sky again, and there was another bump as their tailwheel touched down. “How you doin, Stivers?”
“We’re all good over here, boss, thanks.” The Marine’s voice was shaky but relieved, the tense note gone from his words. “Got three good wheels on the ground. That was a nice landing, Charlie.”
Taylor felt a warm glow inside, but he kept his voice normal. “They’re all good if you walk away from them.” He glanced around, easing the throttle back up just a bit as he finished his rollout and began taxiing. “Let’s park them over there on the right, next to that funky little tree.”
“Tree?” Gruebel’s voice sounded amused. “I didn’t know a plant shorter than I am could be called a tree.”
“Oh whatever, wiseass.” Taylor chuckled nonetheless. If they were joking, they were in fine shape. It had been a textbook landing, not really as bad as he’d feared, but it was the little things like this that gave a nugget pilot confidence and kept him willing to go back up in the air and cheat death again one more day. The two planes pulled in together, parking side by side, and came to a stop, their propellers windmilling for a moment and then coming to rest as the engine noise died away, the low whisper of the arid desert wind slipping in to fill its place.
“Okay kids, take five. Anyone need to use the little boys room?” The chorus of groans that answered him lit Taylor’s face with a boyish grin.
The group reformed together after a few moments in the welcome shadow of the aircraft and began work at setting up a temporary camp, with Gallivan unpacking their bags from the planes and handing them over to Crimson Hoof, who stood on the wing and handed off each pack to its rightful owner. The packs were larger versions of the ones the ponies had originally had on when the pilots had first met them; these were traveling packs, designed for bulk and not ease of movement. Star grunted as he took his from Hoof.
“Thank Celestia I don’t have to lug this through the air all day.” He glanced over at Taylor, who was inspecting the recently repaired wheel on Stivers’ aircraft. “Thank you for hauling these for us, Lieutenant.”
“No problem. No sense in you just standing out on the wing with all that crap on.” Taylor finished his inspection and walked over. “Besides, you never know when you might need to get off in a hurry, and those things are kinda big for fighting.”
Star blinked at that. “I never thought about that...do you think we’ll have to?”
“I hope not.” Taylor shrugged. “Still, it was Sword’s idea.”
Star glanced over at the Captain, who was talking to Midnight about something while they stood under the wing of Taylor’s airplane. “That’s just like him,” he said, pride showing in his voice. “He’s always got ideas like that, and they always seem to work out.”
“Yeah, he’s a real smart cookie,” Taylor agreed, fishing in one pocket of his trousers. “Ah, here we go. Okay, Flight 19, you did good today, now you get your treat. You’ll have to step away from the aircraft first, though.”
The pilots all followed Taylor as he walked a short distance away from the aircraft. “What’s up, Ell-Tee?” Gruebel asked.
“Just this.” Taylor turned around and grinned as he brandished a battered white package in his palm, then tossed it to Gruebel. “Share ‘em around.”
“Holy shit! Lucky Strike means fine tobacco.” The Marine fished a cigarette out of the pack and tossed it to Gallivan. “Where’d you find ‘em, sir?”
“Brought em with me, I was gonna hand em out after we landed from the training flight. I guess this counts.”
“Looks good in my book,” Stivers said with approval. He took a smoke from the pack and passed it on, then produced a lighter. The ponies all looked on in confusion as the humans all lit up the white tubes they held in their mouths, and then emitted a stream of white smoke that drifted away on the light wind.
“What in the world are you doing?” Shadow asked. “Is...is that magic?”
Thompson, caught in mid-inhale, coughed for a moment. “No, no. It’s... I guess it’s a kind of ritual thing with us. We do this to relax, or to celebrate sometimes. I always have one after a flight.”
Shadow cocked his head. “Can... um, can I try one?”
The pilots all shared a look. “Um, I don’t know,” Taylor said. “They’re... it’s kind of an acquired taste.” He glanced at Stivers, who simply shrugged. “Besides, you might not like it very much.”
Shadow arched his neck, sensing a hidden challenge in the statement. “I’m not afraid. Let me try.”
Star stepped forward from behind him. “Hey, Shadow, maybe it’s not a good idea. I mean, they do eat meat, and we don’t like that much either, right?”
“Ahh, that’s just food. This is for real pilots, right? Ponies who aren’t afraid to fly.” Shadow extended his wings to full length.
Gruebel shook his head and grinned. “Yeah, sure.” He emitted a startled whoofing sound as Gallivan elbowed him in the ribs. “Ow, dammit.”
“Come on, it’s like giving ‘em to kids. Don’t egg him on,” Gallivan said.
Shadow snorted. “I told you, I’m not afraid. Give it over.”
Thompson shrugged. “Okay, it’s your call, fella.” He crouched down, wincing as his knees made low popping noises with the motion. “Just hold it between your lips and inhale through your mouth,” he said, holding the cigarette in front of the pegasus with his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t swallow it. Or eat it, either.”
“Gotcha.” Shadow gripped the cigarette between his lips and took a long pull, the lit end glowing a bright red. The experiment lasted somewhat less than three seconds, and the cigarette became airborne, the pony coughing and choking violently. “Oh Celestia, what... that’s...”
Taylor bent and patted the pony on his back firmly until the coughing fit subsided. “I tried to tell you. You okay?”
Shadow nodded and made a wheezing noise. “Yeah. Thanks... but you can keep that tradition to yourself.”
Thompson retrieved the half-smoked cigarette, brushed the sand off of it and stuck it back in a corner of his mouth. “More for me.”
“Okay, troops, let’s finish up here and get to work.” Stivers glanced around for a moment. “I guess this’ll do for a campsite as well as anything. Gallivan, you and Thompson see if you can scout around and try and find some dead wood or brush we can use for a fire.”
Gallivan looked around their soon to be encampment. “Just did sir. I found nothing.”
Stivers gave him an exasperated glance. “Then yank some branches off of Taylor’s tree or something. It’s gonna get cold as hell out here when the sun goes down.” He gave their surroundings another look. “I’m gonna grab some rocks and make a fire pit. Taylor, you wanna give Sword and the others a hand and set up camp?”
The Lieutenant snapped to attention and gave Stivers a three-fingered Boy Scout salute. “Sure thing. I’m still short my merit badge.” He turned and walked toward the ponies who still stood near the airplanes. “Okay, who’s got the marshmallows! Oooh! I get to tell the first ghost story, right?”
Shining Star gave Stivers a look. “Captain, is he always like that?”
“Ever since I’ve known him.” The Marine smiled to himself, then patted the pony on the back. “I’d send him back and ask for a replacement, but I don’t think anyone else would take him. C’mon, let’s get to work.”
“Captain,” Sword’s voice rang out in the clear air. “Before you get too busy with housekeeping, you might want to grab your weapons.”
Stivers looked over at Sword in surprise. “Why? What’s up?”
Golden Sword now stood next to Crimson Hoof on the wing of Taylor’s aircraft, both ponies staring off towards the south. “We’re about to have company,” Sword said tightly. “Unwelcome visitors, I guess you’d say.”
Stivers ran over to join them, vaulting up on the wing in one smooth motion. He held his right hand up, shading one side of his face as he stared off in the same direction. A low plume of dust was now visible, slowly but steadily moving their way. “I can’t see anything other than the damned sand. What is it?”
Golden Sword sighed heavily. “Zebras.”
“What?” Stivers asked blankly.
“You heard me, Captain. Zebras. They are black and white creatures that—” Sword began.
“I know what a damned zebra is. We have them where I come from. It’s just that I didn’t expect to find more talking horses. No offence,” Stivers said flatly.
“None taken,” Sword said, giving him an odd look. “You seem to find the idea of communication surprising when it happens outside your species, Captain. Is there no creature besides yourselves that speaks in your world?”
“No, not really.” Stivers flushed, feeling suddenly provincial, as if he was a gawking farm boy who had just stepped off a bus in New York City, pausing to marvel at the towers of steel and glass while others pointed and laughed. “I mean, I’m sure they talk to each other, I guess, but not to us, no.”
“How very strange.” Sword replied. He looked back at the advancing cloud of dust, which was beginning to resolve itself into individual shapes.
“Have the zebras here always lived in the desert?” Stivers carefully moved forward on the Avenger’s wing and leaned into the cockpit, rummaging for a moment. “I can think of a hell of a lot of nicer places to set up shop and raise the kids in, you know?”
“I suppose they live wherever they wish, just like everypony else,” Sword said. “I’ve heard there’s even one living near Ponyville, in the forest we passed through when we found you.” The guard Captain kept his gaze fixed on the approaching animals in question. “All of the ones I’ve encountered have been nomadic wanderers, however, like this bunch.”
Stivers frowned. “What are they, bums or something?”
Sword’s expression screwed itself up into a moue of distaste. “In a word, yes. Vagabonds who amble about aimlessly, spouting nonsense and trying to pawn off anything to anypony foolish enough to part with his bits.”
Stivers straightened up, holding the pair of binoculars that had been, surprisingly enough, stowed precisely where they were supposed to be. Holding them to his eyes, he focussed in on the dust cloud, and the images jumped sharply into view. “What the... it looks like they’re hauling a covered wagon or something.”
Golden Sword spat, the dry ground quickly swallowing up the moisture. “Free traders. One step removed from outright thieves, in only that they’ll give you something worthless in exchange for your valuables. Take my advice, Captain. Let’s send them packing and let them bilk somepony else.”
Stivers lowered the binoculars and gave the pegasus beside him a long, thoughtful look. “Let’s see what they have to say, first. The last time I shot before talking, I ended up a prisoner. Let’s try the other direction, first. Maybe we can make a friend or two, or at least pump them for information about the area.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Golden Sword sighed. “Very well, if you insist. Let’s meet them halfway, then, over on the other side of the flat. I’d prefer it if we don’t let them get any closer to your machines than we have to.”
Stivers glanced back at the bombers, a cold chill sweeping over him. “You think they’d try to steal them?”
“Steal them, take them apart, who knows? All I know is that I’ve never seen anything like your machines, Captain, and neither has anyone else in Equestria that I know of.” He turned a gimlet eye on Stivers. “How much do you think that’s worth to a trader?”
“Well shit-fire,” Stivers breathed. He slung the binocs around his neck and carefully jumped down from the wing of his airplane. “Okay folks,” he called out, “let’s go meet our visitors. Gallivan, stay here and keep an eye on the birds. Anybody gets too close to them, feed them some knuckles.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
“Star, you stay with him. Fly top cover and keep an eye out,” Sword ordered.
“Yes sir.” Unlimbering the spear from where it was strapped across his back, Shining Star crouched and leapt, wings flapping slowly as he rose up and began circling in a deceptively lazy pattern. He glided easily on the thermals wafting up from the hot desert floor as he watched the rest of his group move across the open salt flat toward the zebras, who were still working their way northwards towards them through the patches of brush. A half-mile to the east or west, and the caravan would have missed them entirely, lost in the ground clutter.
“I don’t like this,” Star muttered to the uncaring air.
Taylor stared at the zebra that stepped forth to greet them. The animal was decked out in an eye-watering array of odd colored decorations; beads, feathered earrings and necklaces swung from every possible place they could be affixed about the zebra’s head. On its back was a saddlepack similar to the ones his own ponies carried, with large cargo containers and even more pouches slung over the shoulders and chest in an arrangement that made it look like some sort of deranged bandito from the American southwest, one that sported leather pouches instead of ammunition, and dyed such a washed out olive-green that it almost looked like the field fatigues that were standard Marine issue.
“Greetings, beings, new and strange!” it said, the deep basso-profundo voice startling from its small frame, and clearly identifying it as a male. “What brings you out here on these plains?”
“Just traveling, and stopping to rest,” Stivers said carefully. “How about you?”
“Traveling too, from spot to spot, and taking breaks when it’s too hot,” the zebra replied, grinning hugely.
Taylor snorted. “Guy’s got a one-horse rhythm act,” he said. “Do you do nightclub gigs, too? Or birthday parties?” He jerked, wincing as he felt a sharp pain in his ankle, and looked down to see Midnight giving him a glare.
“Behave yourself,” she whispered.
“Fine,” he sighed, and raised his voice again. “So, you headed anywhere special? You seem like you have a lot of stuff.”
“We travel over burning sands, heading towards the pony lands,” the zebra replied without missing a beat. “We sell our things from place to place, looking for a buyer’s face. If there’s something lacking, never fear,” he intoned, winking at Taylor, “I’m sure we’ve got it somewhere here. And if you’ve not got much to do, why not stop and buy a thing or two?”
Taylor rolled his eyes. If that wasn’t a rehearsed sales pitch, he’d eat the shorts off a twelve-legged tree sloth. Although considering how wacky as this world had been so far, a twelve-legged tree sloth showing up wearing shorts was not something you could just write off entirely.
“Zimmer, stop it!” A smaller zebra came trotting up from behind the first, wearing a similar saddlepack but dyed blue instead of green. “I’m sorry,” she said. “He got lost on a caravan trip one time, and when they finally found him, he wouldn’t stop talking like that.” She stomped a forehoof and shook her head in an odd motion that seemed to be a form of greeting. “I’m Zinnia. It’s always a pleasure to meet new folks out in the wilderness.”
“Likewise, ma’am.” Stivers raised an open palm in return. “My name’s Stivers.”
Taylor glanced around himself; the ponies remained in stone cold silence. “And I’m Taylor,” he said slowly. There was an undercurrent going on here he didn’t like. He’d been to a dinner party once with a girlfriend who had wanted him to meet her family. It had been a family reunion kind of thing, and he’d lost track of the various aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents he’d met, but the feeling was the same. Some of the people were openly friendly, and others reserved, depending on which side of the family you were talking to.
This feeling was plainly obvious to the zebras, but Zinnia made no mention of it, introducing herself to each of the humans in turn. “We’re all delighted to meet you. You’ve met Zimmer, of course.” She half turned and motioned to the other zebras in the group. “This is Zachary, my brother, and Zoe is over there behind the wagon, being all shy.” The zebra in question flattered her ears and gave Zinnia an irritated look. “And those three are Zip, Zarek, and Joe.”
Taylor blinked. “Um, Joe?”
Zinnia leaned toward him, her voice lowered. “He’s from up north,” she said.
“Oh,” Taylor said, nodding, as if that explained everything. “Gotcha.”
“So,” Zinnia said brightly, “since you’re here, and we’re here... would you care to look at some of our wares?” She shrugged nonchalantly. “You never know when that special something might turn up after all, and who knows when the next time we’ll meet is?”
“In about a thousand years would be nice,” Midnight muttered just loud enough for Taylor’s ears.
“Um... sure, I guess. Why not?” Taylor looked over at Stivers, who nodded in confirmation. The pilots followed the zebras toward the wagon, with the ponies pointedly hanging back and displaying their clear lack of interest. Only Midnight followed them, keeping close to Taylor’s side and turning her head from one zebra to the next, watching their movements.
Gruebel walked over to where Taylor stood and tapped the Lieutenant on the shoulder. “Hey, Ell-Tee?”
“Yeah?”
“Check out the zebra over at the end of the wagon, the one wearing the pow-wow rig on her head.”
Taylor glanced over at the animal, the shy one named Zoe. She sported a headdress with a riotous arrangement of feathers which stuck out at haphazard angles. “What about her?”
“I’d swear she’s got a set of dog-tags hanging around her neck.” Gruebel lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Check her out when she moves, you can see ‘em swinging around.”
Taylor gave the zebra a closer inspection. As she moved around, flipping open cases for the pilots to inspect, the object around her neck dangled and swung, flashing as it caught the afternoon sun now and again. She noticed him staring at her and shrank back, ducking behind the wagon out of sight.
“Yeah, I guess it does look like it, doesn’t it?” Taylor shrugged. “Probably some necklace she cadged off a customer, or maybe her boyfriend gave it to her as an engagement present or something. Girls like shiny things.”
“Yes sir, I guess so. Damndest thing, though.” Gruebel looked absently at the cart, then stopped dead. “Hey, what’s in those cans?”
The ears on all of the zebras perked up instantly at his tone. “You like?” Zinnia trotted over and made sure Gruebel could see the items clearly, shoving another box to one side. “I thought you might be interested in those. They’re canned preserved food we got from the gryphon lands to the north. We really don’t have much of a market for them in the pony lands, so I might be able to cut you a deal on these.”
“Food’s never a bad thing to have too much of,” Stivers said, ambling over. “What sort of food?”
Zinnia seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Well... it’s meat. Sort of.”
The expression on the pilots’ faces obviously took her by surprise. “Fucking-A,” Gruebel said. “Lady, I’ll take however much of that you have.”
“Well, I just have the one box,” Zinnia said, a bit flustered from the ease of the sale. “Twenty cans worth. You’re welcome to it... what did you have in mind to trade for it?”
The pilots all looked at one another, their momentary elation sinking. Regulations forbid them to go flying with any personal effects, and that included their wallets. American dollars were likely to be worthless as well in this land anyway; no one here had ever heard of the Federal Reserve Bank or seen a picture of George Washington on a one dollar bill.
“Dammit, there’s gotta be something...” Gruebel brightened suddenly. “Wait.” He dug into the collar of his shirt, and fished out his own set of dogtags, the bright steel of the identification tabs glittering on the end of their chain. “What about these?”
“No.” Stivers’ voice was flat and brooked no argument. “Uncle Sam issued those to you. They come off when you get planted in the ground, not before.”
“Aw, come on, sir,” Gruebel pleaded. “You really think Graves Registration is gonna come all the way out here to get ‘em back?”
“I said no.” Stivers folded his arms. “If you can’t find something else, we’ll do without the stuff. We’re not starving, and we have food in our packs.”
“Yeah, dried fruit and granola bars, and a shitload of oats.” Thompson shook his head. “Trail food. Pony trail food. That’s gonna get old real fast, Cap.”
“Getting old will be something you won’t have to worry about if you keep arguing with me,” Stivers warned. “Look, we’ll just have to let it go.” He turned to Zinnia, palms spread. “I’m sorry miss, we didn’t exactly come prepared to do business.”
The glum looks on the zebras’ faces matched those of the pilots. “It happens,” Zinnia said, slowly flipping the lid of the box closed. The other zebras began to repack the display items with an equal lack of enthusiasm. “We appreciate your time, though.” She offered a small smile. “I guess it’s still good to meet new folks.”
Midnight stirred from beside Taylor and took a step forward. “I... I’ve got a little bit of money, if you’ll take that. Equestrian bits.”
The pilots all looked at her in surprise. “Whoa, wait a minute,” Gruebel said. “Lieutenant, you don’t have to do that. Cap’s right, we can do without it.”
“Equestrian money’s good; we’re heading that way anyway,” Zinnia said eagerly. The other zebras froze in place, awaiting developments.
“How much do you want for the box?” Midnight tucked her head to one side and opened one of the smaller pouches hanging near her shoulder.
The expression on Zinnia’s face altered suddenly, becoming the cold, calculating look of a salesperson on the hunt. She was clearly trying to weigh the money pouch Midnight was fiddling with in her mind. “Tell you what. Twenty bits and you can have the whole lot.”
“Twenty bits, a steal of a deal, tall folks have a tasty meal,” Zimmer added, holding the corner of a tarp on the other side of the wagon.
Midnight slumped, letting the flap of her money pouch fall back into place. “I’ve only got eight left,” she said weakly. “I only brought a little with me when we went to Ponyville and I didn’t pick up any more while we were in Canterlot.”
“Oh shit,” Taylor said, holding a hand to his forehead as the realization struck him. “I’m sorry, Midnight.” She had bought their lunch with the little cash that she’d had.
“Eight might buy a can or two, but that won’t feed your hungry crew,” Zimmer intoned.
“Zim, stop teasing the customers,” Zinnia said crossly. She looked back to Midnight. “Well, girlie? You want to buy part of the box?” She was a hunter on the scent now, and cold, hard cash was in the offing. “I’ll give you, say half of it for your eight bits. And I’m stretching it as it is.”
Stivers frowned. “I thought you said you didn’t have much demand for the stuff. You can afford to cut her a deal.”
“Yeeaah, I can, but then every customer from Fillydelphia to the Three Peaks down south would know old Zinnia’s a pushover. I have a reputation to keep up, not to mention a business to run.”
Stivers glanced behind him where Golden Sword and the other ponies stood waiting. The pegasus Captain said nothing, but the patient look on his face spoke volumes. I told you so.
Taylor cleared his throat and held up a hand. “Wait. I have a counter-offer for you.”
“Go on, I’m listening.” Zinnia leaned against the wagon, crossing one forehoof behind the other like a man leaning against a wall while waiting for the bus.
Midnight Arrow frowned. “Taylor, I can...”
“Lemme try this,” he said in a low tone. “Keep your money, we may need it later.” He reached into a shirt pocket and removed a small velvet pouch. Opening it up, he shook the contents out into his palm and held it out. The gold anchor and shield gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight, the wings on either side stretching out proudly. He heard the gasp the zebras made and grinned inwardly; he had them right where he wanted them.
“Navy ‘Wings of Gold.’ Manufactured in the good old U.S. of A. You’ll never find another like them, ever.” Which was true. The aviators all bore a leather patch on their flight gear with the wings embossed on it; the metal pin was only worn on their duty or dress uniform. Taylor only carried his with him for personal reasons, and he had no mind to explain that to the greedy zebras in front of him. “These are the wings I earned when I graduated flight school. This for the whole box, all twenty cans. Take it or leave it.”
Zinnia’s jaw dropped. “You want the whole box for that?”
“Take it or leave it,” Taylor repeated, his voice firm. “Otherwise, no deal.”
“Take it, Zinnia!” one of the other zebras hissed. “I’ll trade you a case of cider for it!”
“Hey, you said I could have that!” another yelled.
“Quiet, all of you!” Zinnia snapped. She glanced back at Taylor, the crafty look resuming its place on her face. “You almost had me there, except for that last little bit. Nobody goes to flight school and then walks around on the ground. And you don’t have a pair of wings on you either, except the pair you’re holding in your hand. Care to explain that, flyboy?”
Taylor gritted his teeth. “I don’t fly, I drive a machine that does.”
“Oh this just gets better and better.” Zinnia snorted. “I’d take you in trade for the food; I could make a fortune with you as a storyteller. Sure you don’t want to come with us? I can cut you in for a percentage.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake. Come look, if you don’t believe me.” Taylor re-pocketed the gold wings, did an about-face and stalked back the way they had come. “They’re just up the rise, here. You’d have damn near run over us if we hadn’t come out to meet you.”
The other pilots stared as Zinnia began to follow Taylor. “Uh, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Stivers said.
“Shit on that. No half-pint stripey bitch is gonna stand there and call me a liar to my fucking face.” Taylor walked past Sword and the other ponies, trudged up the short hill that hid the salt flat from view and stopped, waiting. “Well? Come on up here and look.”
Zinnia trotted up behind him, a world-weary expression on her face. “If you insist. But that last little remark is going to cost you something extra.” She stopped beside him and stood, staring. On the other side of the flat, the two Avenger bombers were clearly visible, their blue paint startling against the tan and brown background. The pilots had parked the planes canted inward at an angle, almost facing each other, their insignia showing. The large roundel on the side just behind the wing stood out sharply, the white star on a blue circle with white bars on either side, and next to it in tall letters stood the word NAVY.
“Well?” Taylor snapped. “You want me to give you a ride or something, or is this good enough?”
Zinnia stared at the planes for a moment, and then looked at Taylor, her eyes widening to show a white ring completely around her pupils. Utter and abject horror stood out clearly on her angular face. “DOOMBRINGERS!”
Taylor jerked back, startled. “What?” This wasn’t exactly the effect he’d intended. “What the hell are you...”
Zinnia uttered a thin shriek and spun around, galloping back toward her wagon. “Doombringers! They’ll kill us all! Pack up everything and run!” She stumbled at the foot of the hill, rolling in a cloud of dust and then staggering back to her hooves again. She ran to the wagon and swept the box the pilots had been haggling over out, sending the cans tumbling every which way. “Take it! Just take it and leave us alone!”
Ponies and pilots alike stood in complete shock as the zebras ran back and forth, slamming all the boxes back into place on the wagon and tying the tarp down over them hurriedly. Shining Star, who had heard the screams and seen dust flying up, had dropped quickly from his circling pattern and come zooming towards them, spear at the ready. He flew low overhead, making a quick pass, and the zebras all ducked, emitting yelping cries of panic as he flew by and banked around. Sword took off in a cloud of sand and dust, rapidly overtaking his subordinate and aborting the guard’s attack run.
The zebras quickly hitched themselves up to the wagon and began running off toward the west with a great rattling and an occasional lurch as they ran over a hummock. Zimmer stopped for a moment, glancing fearfully up at where Star and Sword hovered, and then back at Taylor. He began chanting rapidly, a rhythmic verse that repeated itself over and over for a moment. Star emitted a loud yell, and the zebra turned and bolted after the others, his tail flagging back and forth.
As the dust settled slowly, Taylor looked at the others in bewilderment. “What did I do?”
“You called her a half-pint stripey bitch,” Midnight said calmly. “Really Taylor, you have horrible manners with strangers. You need to work on that.”
Stivers and Thompson burst out laughing as Gruebel headed back down the hill. “Hey guys, food’s down here. No sense looking a gift horse in the mouth.” He started picking up cans, and then glanced up at the ponies. “No pun intended.”
“I will be double-damned,” Gruebel said in disgust. The group sat around a crackling campfire, built up with dead limbs and not a few branches from the scrubby bushes that lay along the edges of the salt flat. The temperature had plummeted rapidly after the sun had gone down, and the crackling warmth of the flames was comforting to everyone, pilots and ponies together.
“What?” Shadow looked over at the Marine private. “Has it gone bad or something?”
“No, it might taste better if it had.” Gruebel held a stick with a chunk of the canned meat speared on the end over the fire, his face screwed up in disgust. He pulled it back, blew on the end, and took another bite. “Be double-damned,” he repeated. “I get yanked through God-knows what, end up on a planet full of talking Technicolor ponies, and I’m still eating fucking Spam.”
“Look at it this way.” Taylor sat on the other side of the fire, chewing busily. “At least it wasn’t issue meat hash.”
“Damn, Ell-Tee.” Thompson coughed and swallowed, laughing. “Thanks for reminding me of that shit.” He began humming, and the other pilots joined in one by one. “Spam Spam Spam Spam, wonderful Spaaaaam!”
Crimson Hoof looked at Thompson warily. “Do you always sing to your food?”
“Technically, this isn’t food, in my opinion, but nah. Only to Spam.”
“You come from a strange place,” the corporal declared. “You went through all that trouble to get meat,” he said, shuddering for a moment. “You finally get it, you burn it in the fire, even though you said you can just eat it out of the can, and then when you don’t like it, you sing to it?”
Thompson took another bite and chewed for a moment, considering. “Yeah, I guess that’s a bit weird. But you guys have fully functional hospitals, you fly around in chariots when you have your own wings, and you use spears and bows and arrows.” He emitted a resounding belch. “Now that’s strange.”
Gallivan leaned over and patted Hoof on the shoulder. “No offence, kid. We’re all kinda goofy in our own way, I guess.”
Gruebel finished off the last bite of his meal with grim determination, then stood up and stretched. “Goofy or not, I’m beat. I’m gonna hit the sack. Or sand. Whatever.”
Stivers nodded. “Sword and I have the first watch, so yeah, if you guys want to nod off, go ahead.”
Taylor stood up as well. “I’ll take second. Wake me at midnight, all right? Don’t get all noble and stay up all night.”
“When I have to fly in the morning? No chance.” He gave Taylor a light punch on the leg. “Take off. You got the dog watch.”
“Figures. Speak, Taylor! Speak, boy! Ruff, ruff!” The lieutenant curled up with his head perched on his pack and closed his eyes. “G’night, gramma.”
The quiet night slowly surrounded them as one by one, the members of the group dropped off to sleep, some more quickly than others. A chorus of light snores soon arose to greet the dark sky, and Sword stood up to survey their surroundings. “Well. It’s a good thing we’re on duty. I don’t think I could sleep through this noise.”
“Yeah, right.” Stivers stood up as well; it was a bad habit to sit down when you were trying to pull guard duty. Especially with the fire so close by. It would be frighteningly easy to stare into the flames, mesmerized, and drop off into sleep without even realizing it. “You seem like an old campaigner, Captain. You must have been through the grinder once or twice.”
The two began slowly walking together, pacing around the limits of the circle lit by the fire. “True enough,” Sword admitted after a moment. “I’ve not been in the service of the princesses as long as others... but I have seen my share.” A wry smile curled about his muzzle. “And yes, I’ve slept through noise like that before many times out in the field. You learn to do it, or else you don’t sleep.”
“Oh yeah.” Stivers bent and picked up a gnarled branch that Gallivan had dropped earlier, intending to throw it on the fire. “So... what’s your story, Captain?”
“Excuse me?”
“How’d you end up in the guard? And how’d you end up being such a hardass?” Stivers grinned to take the sting out of the words. “Speaking as one hardass to another.”
Golden Sword had slowed almost to a stop. The two captains stood next to a grassy hummock, looking out over the darkened desert to the east, where the moon was beginning to rise.
“There she is,” Sword said, smiling at the moon for a moment before turning to Stivers. “Well... nopony’s really asked me that before.” He frowned. “I don’t think anypony was really interested, to be honest.” Shrugging, he resumed their slow trek around the perimeter. “Really I guess it all started when I—”
A low hissing noise emerged from the darkness to their right, and the two stopped immediately, Stivers crouching down next to the pegasus. “What the hell is that?”
“I’m not sure,” the pony replied, his whole form tensing. “I heard stories back in Canterlot though, when I was asking about the desert. I think it may be...”
The sand erupted in front of both of them, flying up in a shower. A low, hunched shape stood there, red eyes glowing out of the twisted ruin that served it as a face. About three feet high, it emitted a piercing screech as it jumped into the air, membranous wings flapping madly as it hovered before them. The desert air in all directions was suddenly filled with identical screeching, and numerous shapes darted in and out just beyond the illumination of the campfire.
“...Dust Devils,” Sword finished, his ears pinned back against his head. “You might want to draw your weapon, Captain. We aren’t getting much sleep tonight anyway.”
Stivers fell back, instinctively reaching down and opening the flap on the leather holster strapped to his belt. Before he had so much as gotten a grip on the .45 pistol that lay there, however, Golden Sword had drawn his namesake weapon and surged forward. With one quick swing, he bisected the noisome creature before them in one smooth motion. It uttered a garbled shriek, shivered for a second and then, quite literally, fell apart before their eyes, the two severed sections trembling and then exploding into a cloud of sand and dust.
The rest of the group that had been sleeping around the campfire started awake immediately when the horrific shrieking had begun; ponies and pilots alike fought to shake off the feeble beginnings of sleep they had just begun to indulge in. Shining Star, who had barely begun to nod off, was the quickest to regain his wits. The pegasus immediately shot into the air and impaled one of the creatures directly in the torso with a lunging stab of his spear. It writhed for a moment like a bug on a pin and then detonated in another spray of dust that surrounded the pony in a cloud, filling his eyes with a burning sensation as he was momentarily blinded. “Oh Celestia, that hurts!”
The creatures began flitting past from every direction, zooming in at them from out of the darkness surrounding the fire. Only two or three headed towards Sword and Stivers; the rest seemed drawn to the light like moths to a flame, and the beleaguered warriors began backing up until they could feel the heat of the flames singeing their fur and hair.
“Jesus Christ, how many of these damned things are there?” Taylor had nocked an arrow in his short bow and was searching for a target to aim at. “Shit, I can’t even see anything.”
Stivers ducked as another of the creatures swooped at him, snatching away a lock of hair. He resnapped his holster closed and drew the short, broad bladed dagger at his side. His automatic only held seven shots, and there seemed to be dozens of the damned things flitting just in and out of sight around the fire. As quick as they were in and out of sight, the chances of him hitting one were small. The chances of him missing and nailing one of his companions or one of the airplanes were a lot higher, however. Guess it’s time to put this thing to use and see how good I am.
Another of the beasts grabbed at his elbow from behind. He jerked away and spun around, taking a swipe at it with the dagger. The gleaming weapon scored a long, bloodless wound along one of the thing’s wings as it jumped back, and it hissed at him, uttering a string of nonsensical gibberish that Stivers supposed was its version of a curse.
There was a howl of pain from overhead and everyone involuntarily glanced up at it. Shining Star, who was still hovering in place and trying to clear his fouled vision, had been grabbed by three of the creatures at once. Two had attached themselves to his wings, one on each side, and they tugged at them as if playing an impromptu game of tug of war. A third had grabbed ahold of the buckles on the front of his armor with one claw and was scratching and clawing at the pegasus’ face, clearly going for his eyes. The pony had instinctively sensed this and was thrashing his head about rapidly, snapping his teeth and neighing in fear. His own wings immobilized, the monsters were holding him suspended between them as they headed toward the fire, apparently intending to dump the helpless pony into the open flame. Several of the other ponies had prepared themselves to go to his aid, but the imps were swooping down and snatching at their own wings as well, using their strength of numbers to keep the guards from becoming airborne.
“Stay on the ground!” Golden Sword bellowed. “Don’t let them separate you! Keep bunched up!”
The miniature sand demon attached to Star’s chest had tired of trying to claw at his eyes and was preparing to simply bite the pony on his throat near his jaw where the neck armor ended. It emitted an evil hiss and spread its jaws, clearly savoring the moment... and then uttered a strangled cough. An arrow appeared to be growing out of its open mouth, the barbed tip protruding through the back of its neck.
As it dropped away and burst, Midnight Arrow crouched down near Taylor’s knees, drawing and nocking another arrow in one fluid motion. As she took aim at the beast holding Star’s right wing, she spoke to Taylor without turning. “Get ready to catch him when he falls.”
“Got it.” Taylor slung his own weapon and watched in admiration as the little pegasus beside him calmly shot the other two imps off of Star as if she was plinking tin cans lined up on a fence. The freed pegasus uttered a shout as he dropped, upside down, frantically trying to right himself, legs flailing wildly. Taylor lunged forward and caught him in his outstretched arms, the pony’s weight knocking him to the ground. The pilot landed on one of the rocks that lined the firepit and rolled away, cursing as he felt the hair on one side of his head crackle as it was singed by the flames. Star lay in his grasp for a moment, still wriggling frantically, and then stopped as he realized he was safe, at least for the moment.
“Whoever it is, thank Celestia you have arms,” he breathed, panting heavily. “I could feel the heat... I thought I was done for.”
“No problem. That’s why I joined the Navy. Screw seeing the world, I wanted to fight baby devils by the romantic glow of a fire.” Taylor moved one of the pony’s forelegs aside and brushed gently at his eyes, wiping away a crust of sand. “You okay?”
Star blinked rapidly, his eyes watering. “Oh yeah, that’s better. Thanks, Ell-Tee.”
Taylor grinned reflexively at the nickname, leaning over to pick up the pony’s spear where he had dropped it. “Sure thing. Here you gooHHH GODDAMMIT!” One of the tiny devils had swooped down and snatched at Taylor’s ear with a claw, cutting it open and scoring the side of his cheek with a triple furrow of bloody marks. The pilot lashed out with one bare hand and seized the pocket demon in one clenched fist. He slammed it to the ground, drew the dagger from his side with the other hand, and stabbed the thing directly in the face, pinning it to the dirt. “Fuck you, you little asshole!”
Midnight crouched, drew and fired again, vaporizing another devil in mid-swoop, and sidled over to where the two lay, her gaze darting back and forth as she searched for another target. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” Taylor swiped at his cheek and looked at his bloody palm. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”
Stivers and Sword had finally managed to work their way back to join the rest of the group, and they all formed a solid ring around the fire, watching as the creatures flitted about. “We have to figure something else out,” Sword said. “If we keep this up, they’re going to wear us down one by one. They keep going for the face and eyes.”
Shining Star stumbled to his feet and shook himself. “Yes sir, I noticed.”
Thompson, who had been swiping ineffectually at the creatures with his spear whenever they drew too near, straightened up suddenly. “Captain,” he said, “think we ought to try using something a little stronger?”
“I thought about it, but it’s hard enough to get a clear shot, and I don’t want to hit anyone else.” Stivers grimaced. “Besides, we only have a couple of magazines left for the pistols, and not enough ammo for all these bastards.”
“I mean something stronger than that.” Thompson looked over at the officers. “Throw some of the burning wood out there where they’re flying around us and light the place up.” He suddenly grinned, the flickering firelight giving him a fiendish look that made him look uncannily like one of the miniature demons. “Then we make a rush for old 117 right there.” He pointed at the nearest Avenger. “Everyone back up against the airplane; I’ll take care of the rest of it.”
Stivers glanced at the aircraft and the realization of the private’s plan hit him. “Good idea, let’s do it.” Sheathing his dagger, the Marine grabbed at the unlit end of one of the sticks in the fire and hurled the brand out into the darkness. “You heard him! Let’s light the place up!”
Each of the humans seized a piece of wood and lit it in the fire and then tossed the makeshift torch into the darkness in the direction they were facing. The burning branches landed in the darkness, widening the circle of visibility and providing a more clear outline of the flying pests that circled and swooped around them. They kept chucking the brands into the darkness until little of the original fire remained; the light was scattershot now, burning sticks lying randomly around them in a wide circle, with some of them lighting the dry brush on fire to provide even more light. With the source of the illumination diluted and dispersed, the miniature demons ceased their constant circling and began to swirl about aimlessly, screeching and howling at one another.
“Okay, everybody GO!” Stivers uttered a parade ground bellow and took off, ponies and pilots moving together in one group as they rushed for the nearby bomber. They surrounded it on all sides, pressing their backs against the fuselage, and began fending off the increasingly random attacks from the Dust Devils.
Thompson vaulted up onto the portside wing. Still holding his spear, he swung it like a baseball bat and struck another demon with a solid hit that sent the thing sprawling. The Marine dropped the spear and quickly vaulted into the aft turret on the spine of the aircraft, slamming the hatch closed behind him.
Taylor looked down at Midnight. “Better duck your ears, hon, it’s about to get noisy.”
She cursed as her shot missed its mark, winging the beast she had been aiming at. “What do you mean—”
The rest of her reply was lost as the .50 caliber turret Thompson was manning opened fire, the noise bellowing the night into tatters. Flame spat from the end of the barrel as Thompson rotated the mini ball turret, firing into the largest cloud of milling demons. The creatures did not even have time to emit their characteristic shriek as the heavy slugs ripped into them, sending them bursting into clouds of dust. Those unlucky few too close to the turret were shredded by the sound and flame blasting from the machine gun, and even a near miss seemed to have a traumatic effect; the stream of bullets caused many of the Dust Devils to cartwheel crazily through the air as if disoriented before bursting into nothingness.
The ponies all flattened their ears at the fearful din, the whites of their eyes showing clearly as the unknown sorcery of the aircraft spewed its deadly cargo into the dark. The muzzle blast lit up the area in a series of staccato flashes, illuminating the pegasi guards as they crouched down in terror. They were guards in the sworn service of the princess of Equestria, bound by duty to give their lives for her if need be, and were no cowards, but this was something beyond their ken. They had seen the small handguns and what their self-contained sorcery had done to the bear back in the Everfree Forest, but this was that sorcery increased beyond an order of magnitude, a continuous ripping roar of noise surpassing what they had endured from the aircraft engines on their way here. The fact that none of them bolted in fear was a mute testament to their bravery, and one the humans were never to fully appreciate.
Midnight Arrow lay crouched down, trembling, near the nose of the aircraft. She glanced up at Taylor, who stood beside her, his face illuminated in the stroboscopic flashing of the machine gun as he watched the carnage, a look of grim satisfaction on his bloody face. She shivered, and all at once wished that Fluttershy was here, and at the same time, was glad that she wasn’t. Swallowing heavily, she tore her gaze away from the sight and picked up her bow once more, preparing to pick off any of the Dust Devils that strayed too close to the front of the airplane.
None did. The scattering of the fire had removed the focus of the creatures attack; they were little more than semi-intelligent animals that tracked their prey by light, sound and motion. Their brains were rudimentary, but developed enough to realize that whatever particular prey they had seized upon, it was decimating their numbers in wholesale lots. Instinct took over, and the vile beasts began scattering in all directions, their shrieking cries becoming weaker and weaker as they fled into the dark night.
The bursts from Thompson’s turret slowed, becoming intermittent and then finally stopping entirely. The others could hear the whine from the turret as it moved back and forth, searching for targets, but finding nothing worth wasting any more ammunition on. Eventually it stopped, and Thompson’s head emerged from the hatch, his face covered in sweat. “I think we’re clear, Cap. If they’re still out there, I can’t make ‘em out, anyway.”
“I think we’re good, for now. You can stand down, Marine.” Stivers patted the wing of the aircraft. “Good job.”
“Hey, I did the shooting.” Thompson clambered out and sat down on the wing, drooping tiredly. “You can thank me, too.”
“Yeah, you did okay.” Taylor looked up at the dim outline of the private. “Not too bad for a trainee. I’d say you passed your gunnery test with that one.” He reached up and touched his own wounded cheek, wincing; the wounds were starting to hurt like a sonofabitch. “Anybody else hurt?”
“My wings are still attached, even if they don’t feel like they really want to be, right now,” Star groaned. “Otherwise, I think I’m fine.”
“One of the little bastards dive-bombed me in the balls,” Gruebel said, his voice strained. “Feel like I got kicked by a mule down there.”
“Remind you of your first date?” Gallivan was practically untouched, except for his hands, which were bruised and scored from beating at the imps. “The Gorilla from Manila that you used to hang out with before the war?”
“She was from Olongapo, asshole.” Gruebel straightened upright, wincing. “And it was her sister that kicked me.”
“Oh yeah, now I remember. She was the one with the beard, right?”
“Knock it off, you two,” Stivers growled. “All right, let’s police up the area. Put out the damned brush before we burn the whole desert down around our ears.” He glanced down. “Thompson, grab your brass.” Most of the expended cartridges had fallen inside the aircraft, but a few had fallen out of the turret area and lay on the sand, gleaming.
“Are you kidding?” Thompson stared for a moment, then at the answering glare from Stivers, he jumped down off the wing and began picking up the spent brass. “What, are we on the firing line, now?”
“I just don’t want to leave any of that shit behind when we leave.” It was a gut feeling Stivers had that he couldn’t explain, and he didn’t want to try. “The same goes for any empty cans or the rest of our trash. Police it up and stow it. I don’t want to leave a trail of our used crap all the way from the castle to the mountains.”
Crimson Hoof, who had been sniffing at a pile of dust and sand that had recently tried to bite him, glanced up with a frown. “Are you afraid of being followed, sir?” He looked around uneasily. “Is that how those... things found us?”
“I don’t know, Hoof.” Stivers shrugged. “It just feels better this way... safer. Call it a hunch.” He glanced around. “What do you think, Captain?”
Golden Sword made no answer. His blonde tail drooping, the pegasus gave Stivers one long, measuring look and then turned away.
Stivers glanced around quickly, taking note of what the rest of their group was doing. Thompson was busily grubbing away in the sand under the Avenger and uttering a low string of particularly juicy curses; the few that managed to float across to Stivers indicated that the private was not exactly enthused about the task at hand. Most of the rest had spread out cautiously, beginning to retrieve the burning brands they had cast around their camp; Gallivan and Shadow were busily stamping out a small creosote bush that had caught afire and was burning merrily. None of them were paying any particular attention to either of the two Captains at the moment, and that suited the Marine just fine.
Breaking into a slow jog, he caught up with Sword near a knee-high outcropping of rock that lay near the edge of the salt pan. It might have lain undisturbed under the former lake bed for millennia, but the water was gone now, and the wind was brushing away the sand bit by bit, exposing the rock, which was in turn being slowly brushed away itself by the abrasive grains blowing across its surface. The pony was leaning against it, staring off to the eastward at the still rising moon, and Stivers walked over and sat down on the rock behind him, looking him over carefully. “Hey, Captain. You okay? One of those little bastards clip you?”
The grey pegasus uttered an odd little laugh. “No, no, oh no. I’m fairly well untouched. I always am, you know, no matter how bad it gets.” He uttered a low snort and stomped the sand with a forehoof. “One of my troopers almost gets pulled apart in mid-air like some sort of treat at a birthday party, but I hardly had my mane mussed.”
Stivers blinked at that remark, the bitterness in it almost palpable. “Captain... he’s fine. Just a bit sore, is all.”
“Yes, I noticed Mr. Taylor asked after him, even before I thought to.” Sword paused. “I have to tell you, he’s risen a bit in my estimation today. I was wrong about him... quite wrong, actually. About all of you, really.”
Stivers shifted on the rock, leaning back and folding his arms. “That’s normal, I guess.” He looked over at the pegasus. “If you were one of my people, I’d tell you it’s only human.”
Sword shook his head slowly, then glanced around to fix the tall pilot in his gaze. “And even now you offer me support. Why, Captain?” His voice grew rough. “Why do you care how I feel? What I’ve done? You play the part of the compassionate leader very well, Stivers. Even my own hoof-picked troops now look to you for advice, more and more. I’ve seen it happen again and again since we left Canterlot.”
Stivers uncrossed his arms slowly, holding his palms open toward the pegasus. “Hold on, Captain. Take it easy. I’m not trying to sideline you or subvert your command. They’re still your troops.” He offered a wry, humorless smile. “If I did try to take over, I think I’d end up in ten different pieces before I could bat an eye, if your executive officer didn’t shoot it out first.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen anyone shoot like that before, guns, arrows... I mean, Jesus.”
The compliment seemed to mollify Sword somewhat; the pegasus relaxed a bit, leaning back against the rock next to the pilot. “She’s a bit of work, I agree. Yes, it appears each of us has our own little deadly talent.” He frowned. “Which reminds me... your man Thompson. That... thing he used. It’s like the little ones I gave back to you before we took off, only larger, and more deadly.”
“It’s just a machine gun, but yeah, it’s a damn sight tougher than these.” Stivers patted the .45 holstered at his hip.
“I noticed.” The pegasus peered at him warily. “Were you planning on telling me about those at some point? Or did you overlook that particular detail in the rush to leave?”
Stivers had the good grace to blush heavily. “I... I just thought it might be a good idea to keep it to ourselves, just in case.” He shrugged, “With the way Celestia was acting before we left, I didn’t know how she would react to it, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to ask you to choose between her and us.”
Sword nodded. “And having something to fall back on just in case I and my guards didn’t turn out to be entirely trustworthy wasn’t a bad idea either, was it?”
Stivers looked down at the ground and said nothing, feeling his cheeks burn.
“Again, I misjudged you, Captain. You’re smart, intelligent, and cunning as well.” Sword sighed. “And I can’t fault you for that. In fact, I admire it. I had thought the lot of you as nothing more than a bunch of large, noisy, blundering buffoons. Dangerous, but something we could handle, like a wild Manticore.” He reached up and removed the plumed helmet he wore, setting it down on the rock and rubbing a forehoof through the sweat-matted mane that cascaded down his neck. “I believe I owe you an apology.”
“I doubt that.” Stivers sat down on the sand, his back braced against the rock. “You were doing your job, Captain. Part of it is knowing when to keep your mouth shut, even if you don’t want to.”
“Again, you offer yourself up as the wise leader, imparting comfort where needed.” The pegasus smiled wanly. “I always wanted to be wise. I tried to be.”
“You’ve been doing pretty well so far.” Stivers shifted uncomfortably. “Captain, I... well, look. Both of the planes have several guns like that, top and bottom for defence, and on the wings, too, for attacks. And we’ve got some heavier stuff loaded, too. Rockets, under the wings.”
Sword looked at him curiously. “Rockets? Like New Year’s candles? Why do you carry those?”
“These aren’t fireworks, Captain. We could probably level your princess’s tower with them, if we tried.”
Golden Sword’s eyes widened. “Sweet Celestia. It’s a good thing you didn’t tell me about them before we left, then. I would have flown back to the castle and tried to call this whole thing off.”
“No shit?” Stivers stared at him.
“No shit.” The pegasus laughed again, the bitter sound in it reaching in and tugging at Stivers. “You’re an accurate judge of character, Captain, while I...” Sword glanced behind him and up, peering for a moment at the rising moon. “You could have waited until we were out of sight of the castle, shot us all off of your wings, and continued on your own. Made up any story you liked when you got back. If you got back.”
“I still can,” Stivers said levelly. “But I didn’t, and I won’t. We don’t operate like that where I come from. I took an oath when I became an officer, and being a liar to those I’m supposed to trust wasn’t in that oath.”
“Ahh, so now I’m trustworthy, am I?” Golden Sword looked at him, his blonde forelock falling over one eye. “Comrades to the end, through thick and thin?”
“We’ve shed blood together now, and fought off a common enemy. And I remember your words before we left. Like you said, we have to start somewhere, don’t we?” Stivers drew up one leg, clasping his hands around his knee and lacing the fingers together. “We’ve got a good start. I’d hate to ruin that.”
“Well spoken.” The pegasus fidgeted in place for a moment, and then breathed a long, slow sigh. “Well. Since we’re tucked in cozily together and sharing secrets, let me tell you one I’ve carried about for a while now. You asked me earlier how I ended up in my position, how I became a...” He frowned. “A ‘hardass,’ I believe you called it.”
“No insult intended.” Stivers smiled. “Like I said, I was asking as one hardass to another.”
“Well then. Let me tell you how the all knowing, all wise Golden Sword managed to stumble into being the leader of an elite group of royal guard ponies, when by all rights he should have been a charred corpse in a no-name village long ago.” The pegasus looked up at him. “And don’t interrupt me, Captain. I’ve never told this to anyone, and I don’t think I shall ever do so again, so be kind and pay attention, hmm?”
The Marine nodded silently, his eyes reflecting the gleaming light of the moon.
“Have you ever seen a dragon up close before, Captain?” Golden Sword paused. “No? I thought not. Well, neither have I. I almost did, but I missed my chance. Call it fate, call it blind luck, call it Discord’s Whim, whatever you like. I was a sergeant in the regular army, several years ago. Our unit had been ordered out to a small village near a lovely little stream that went all the way down to the Brighttail River, if you followed it far enough. From there, you could go to Fillydelphia, or all the way to the sea... but I digress.
“The village was named Sugarcube. It wasn’t on the map. It was one of those little places that happens to spring up because a pony or two just stopped one day and decided to build his house there, because it suited him. A few farms, a couple of houses, a store or two. No inn, it wasn’t large enough to have anypony visit. Nobody really cared about it, except the ponies that lived there. They cared a lot. I’m not sure why. It certainly wasn’t a place worth dying over. But that’s what happened.”
Sword flicked his forelock out of his eyes with a lithe twist of his head. “My unit was ordered there by the Princess Celestia to evacuate the town. The dragons... they migrate, you see? Every year. And the path they take varies. Well, this particular year, they decided to go along the route that the stream followed, heading back toward the mountains. And so, to protect her subjects, the princess had decreed that the ponies who lived in Sugarcube should evacuate their homes and move, temporarily, to a camp that was safely out of the way. It was a journey of a couple of days away, and not very difficult, and they could return when the dragons had passed... assuming, of course, that the dragons didn’t level the town while they were away.” He laughed harshly. “Dragons are possessed of a unique sort of whimsy in that regard. They might torch your house, or leave it alone and tear the roof off of mine instead, just because it was next door, and it suited them. Just because they could, you see?
“Well. We arrived in town, and made our pronouncement. I felt proud. Here we were, servants of the princess and of the ponies, here to lead them to safety. They would follow us, worship us as heroes, and we would have done our duty to protect them. A few days of roughing it, just a lark of a camping trip, really, and we’d lead them back, safe and sound. Life would return to normal, and we would have done our duty. No more, no less.
“Except they wouldn’t leave.” Golden Sword’s jaw clenched, and the pony stamped at the ground. “The fools refused to leave their damned thatched-roof cottages and grubby farms and take a short bucking hike to someplace safe. They’d built their homes with their own hooves, they said, and they’d stick by them. Dragons don’t care about farms, they said. They’d be fine on their own. Well, we hadn’t expected that. We’d been sent out there to get them and move them, and we really didn’t have time to argue about it, because the dragons were coming. So my captain set off upriver, and found a spot about three leagues away that was a perfect ambush site, at least for an aerial attack.” He fell silent for a moment, lost in memory.
Stivers sat silently, feeling a creeping dread as he waited for the pony to continue. Unable to hold his tongue any longer, he spoke up. “So what happened?”
“He ordered me back,” Sword said, his voice uneven. “The bastard ordered me to go back to the village and get the ponies out of there while the rest of my squad caused a... diversion. That’s what he called it. A bloody diversion. I was to leave my squadmates and captain, who I would have followed anywhere, and go back and round up those ungrateful snobs and get them to safety while my friends died.” He uttered an odd, ratcheting cough and scrubbed angrily at his face with a foreleg. “So what did brave, fearless, wise Golden Sword do?”
“Your duty,” Stivers replied quietly.
“Yes. My damned duty. I went back, as slow as I dared, trying to keep my friends in sight as long as possible. I went back to that hole in the ground of a village and told them at sword point to pack their things in five minutes and assemble in the town square.” He snorted. “Square. It was just the largest bald spot in the grass there. I forced them out of town, the oldsters, the cursing mothers, the crying fillies, and practically whipped them all the way to the camp. I reported in there and told the officer in charge of the camp what had happened. And that was the worst of it.” Sword looked up at Stivers, his eyes streaming. “They called me a hero for what I’d done. For saving innocent lives. I got a promotion and a bucking medal and a parade. And my friends were still gone.”
Stivers nodded and said nothing, waiting.
“I didn’t even get to go back to my own barracks. I got promoted to Sub-Lieutenant and got my own office. Somepony else cleaned out their lockers and sent the letters to their families. Some stranger.” Sword drew in a deep breath and blew it out shakily. “So, you can see, Captain, my own talent seems to be putting my men in danger and watching them die. Are you so certain you want to trust me by your side, now?”
Stivers waited until the pegasus was able to meet his gaze. “I’d say so. Part of being a leader... part of being an adult... is taking responsibility for your actions, and learning to live with the consequences.”
“Oh yes, that sounds so wonderful,” Sword spat. “Do you use that line on the ladies, too?”
“Sword... where I come from, there’s this island. A really pretty place, probably a lot like Sugarcube was. The people that lived there called it Okinawa.” Stivers swallowed. “It got caught between some soldiers we were fighting and our troops. A lot of people lived there, too, innocent people like in Sugarcube. Simple people. Farmers.” He picked up a small pebble and tossed it into the dark, listening to the clatter on the stones. “I used to be a sergeant, too. I decided one day that we were going to get the people the hell out of the sector I was in. They were in the way, and would have gotten blasted by our own troops if we didn’t do something.”
Sword nodded slowly. “You had to force them out, too?”
“No. They wanted to come. They were frightened to death, they were afraid they’d be punished if they left. The enemy soldiers told them so. I told them we wouldn’t let that happen, that we would protect them.” Stivers threw another rock into the dark. “The enemy troops shelled the village. They waited until the people were all in the street, ready to follow us, and then blew them up in front of my eyes. Just because they could.”
“That... that sounds hateful,” Sword managed. “Their own people?”
“Yep.” Stivers paused for a moment, peering at his fingernails in the moonlight. “I kind of came apart for awhile after that. The Marines had some pretty good people who talked to me, told me it wasn’t my fault, that I’d tried.” He glanced at Sword. “I could understand what they were saying up here,” he said, tapping his forehead with a forefinger. “But when I went to sleep at night, I’d wake up after an hour or so, seeing those villagers’ faces again, looking at me. Because I didn’t understand it here.” He patted his chest over his heart.
“So... so what did you do?” The pegasus looked at him with an odd expression, his head slightly tilted, ears perked upright.
“After awhile, I had to find something to do. Anything. Something to occupy myself. I discovered I liked airplanes, and liked flying. I went to officer school and passed the tests, and found out I was still pretty good at leading men. Eventually, they let me go to flight school.” He smiled slightly. “I was still working on that when I ended up in your backyard, so to speak.”
“How long ago was this?”
Stivers folded his hands around his knee again. “Maybe a year and a half ago. The war’s over now, has been for a while. But things like you and I did... they don’t really go away, do they?”
“No, they don’t.” Sword looked down. “Captain, I think I owe you an apology. Again.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been doing what you were supposed to be doing all along, all you can do. The best you can. That’s all any of us can do. After all,” Stivers said with a small smile, “you’re only one pony. Even if you are a hardass.”
“Yes. Well.” Sword exhaled again, slowly, and then put his helmet back on, the golden armor gleaming with a cold light under the white orb that hung overhead. “Perhaps we should get back; it’s well past our watch. I wouldn’t want Mr. Taylor to get used to the idea of oversleeping.”
“Oh shit,” Stivers said, standing up quickly. “Hell yes. Let me go wake that lazy bastard up.”
“Get Sub-Lieutenant Arrow up as well, while you’re at it, if you wouldn’t mind.” Sword chuckled. “I don’t want her to go soft on me, after all.”
A/N: So, here you have it... A chapter with almost 15,000 words even. Holy balls. As good a time as any to end Act I don’t you think?
Anyway, with my coming exams this week, and Dave’s job (hopefully I’m not putting words in his mouth), we are taking next week off of writing. Also, You will not be seeing Act II under Ty’s account. I will be putting Act II up on my account, http://www.fimfiction.net/user/Goldenarbiter that way I’m not constantly infringing on his privacy. So, keep an eye out for it in Two weeks (I’ll post a notice on Ty’s account as a reminder).
Sorry if this is inconvenient to anyone, but this is far more convenient for me, so... yah.
I really hope you’ve all enjoyed the ride so far, I know I have. As alway, Enjoy.
~GoldenArbiter
P.S. Happy father’s day to anyone out there who is a father.
And last but not least, please comment. Your words feed me... not unlike a changeling...
Yeah, the job’s been getting hectic lately, and I’ve been hammering away at both it and this story. So we’re going to take a bit of a break between acts here...the pause that refreshes, so to speak, and then get going on Act II.
As you’ve doubtless noticed, the chapters have grown in size recently. The story’s been getting bigger, and we had to buy it new shoes and everything. I hope you don’t mind. If you do, that’s pretty much my fault. Rainbow Dash always did tell me I needed to learn to shut up.
I’ve got a new summer cottage on the moon now (I rented it from Luna, who’s not really using it much anymore), and feel free to consign me there at your whim. But if it works for you, I hope you stick with us. There’s still quite a bit of story ahead, and I hope you enjoy it.
~Dave
P.P.S.: there will be one more chapter before I label Act I complete. It will just be pointing you towards my account when it gets published.
Have a wonderful day.
P.P.P.S.: You have got to be shitting me... there is an 'indent paragraphs' option? Son of a bitch... Time to go and indent the last... all of the chapters...
