The Sea Singer

The Sea SingerChapter Three: The Jailhouse Rock

     Betrayal's a funny thing to experience.

     You think you can trust a pony, you think that he or she is somepony you can lean on, somepony who you know well enough to turn your back to, somepony that you're totally sure about. Whether they stab you in the aforementioned back or not is up to them. In the end, it's their decision to make, regardless of what you think about it. They can either pull you up from hanging off a cliff, or stomp on your feet and let your sorry flank fall to the ground like a slab of meat. That's just the way it works, if you trust the wrong pony, you could wind up injured,  in jail, dead, or worse.

     This, I have done.

     There's no surefire way to know who will betray you and who won't. They either do, or they don't, it's a fifty-fifty chance. That being said, the only way to not be double-crossed is to not have any friends, family, or lovers and live a sad, sad life cut off from society. It seems that the floor of the Everfree Forest is the best place to do that. But that doesn't seem very fun, now does it?

     Berry Punch was the only pony whom I've ever trusted that didn't lay her head to rest in the hull of a ship, and look how that turned out. There are less than a dozen ponies alive that I know that I can trust. That would be my best friend Derpy, my navigator, engineer, and pilot, Oakfang the diamond dog, Cotton Swab the medic, Crowe the security officer (You haven't met him yet. I'll get there soon), and my neice, Easybreeze. Eight ponies. That's all. I have to sleep with both eyes open when I'm around the rest of the world.

     But, I digress. You all don't want to hear me whine about my trust issues, do you? You want to know what happens next. Well, my friends, this little adventure of mine starts with a jail cell. A cold, damp, dark, and generally unfriendly jail cell.

X-X-X-X-X

     What's the best way to describe a prison?

     It's been done a million times before in a million different books, and the descriptions all seemed the same. Cold, damp, dark, and generally unfriendly.

     Belive me, I know jail cells. I've spent more nights in a room with bars for a door than a proper hotel. And compared to both the hotels and dungeons, this one was actually kind of nice. There was a cot with clean sheets, a sink with actual running water, and a crapper that wasn't three years overdue on a cleaning. Come to think of it, this is probably the best prision I'd ever been in.

     Trust me, I know for sure that Canterlot has seen it's fair share of scum and villainy. These walls had mostly been temporary home to drunks and petty thieves, occasionally housing the odd drug dealer or murder suspect. In my experience, jails cell with high traffic like this one tended to be a bit...messy. What with the drinkers mistaking the sink for the toilet, and the teenage hoodlums writing profane words on the walls and drawing highly unflattering images of Celestia on the floors.

     How they kept it so tidy, I'll never know. Probably the same way they keep those bathrooms all pearly-white. Seriously, those restrooms were totally awesome, and I don't even feel weird for writing that.

     Anyway, moving on from how rutting clean this place was... After the gaurds manhandled me into a tiny cage hooked to the back of a carriage, they stripped me of everything I'd been carrying, guns, sword, wallet, hat (My hat, for the Sisters' sake!), and even my damn watch. I'd bet ten platinum that my father's golden time-teller had conviently gone missing while they took my stuff to the vault, but then again I can't bet a thing, cuz my freaking wallet was gone.

     So, I did the only thing anyone in this purgatory of a jailhouse would do, I made myself comfortable on the cot and waited. There's wasn't much I could do at this point. There was nopony around the place to talk to, no other inmates or even a single guard. I was isolated, though I preferred it that way. All that was left to do was pass the time until somepony comes along and reminds you why you're in here.

     ...

     .....

     ...............

     Well it's that time to play one of my favorite games again; Find Something to Do! With your host, Captain Cloudstrider of the Airship Sea Singer! Also joining us will be the ever-so-charming pony in his head.

Good to be here, Cloud! the inner voice echoed inside my head Hey, remember that time I told you to back off from that deal? Wasn't that a barrel of laughs?!

"Shut up." I muttered aloud, my gruff voice filling the deathly silent dungeon for a brief moment.

     Well, I guess I should play the game now. Let's see...something to do, something to do, somethig to-

X-X-X-X-X

     "Oak tree? No, that's two words!"

     The gears in my head turned.

     "Everfree? Eh, probably. Then again, probably not."

     Okay guys, quick question: what word rhymes with "country?" I, for the life of me, cannot figure it out.

     "Munchies? Hmmm, nope."

     Gaah! This sucks. I give up.

     ...

     Now I have nothing to occupy mysef with. Oh joy.

     I checked my watch, only to stare at my hoof about two seconds too long before I realized it was not there. "Oh, right." Well, at least I had probably killed about twenty minutes with that little game.

     I tossed and turned in the cot, this thing was not at all comfortable. Then again, I was in a rutting jail cell, which is pretty much synonymous with "crappy beds and plenty of alone time."

     Finally finding a reasonably comfortable position to lay in, I relaxed.

Oh Goddesses... thoughts began to creep into my mind The proverbial shit has hit the proverbial fan. This has got to be to be the biggest booze bust in history. Four hundred bottles of some of the most potent moonshine in the Green Sea, and I'm the dumb fool who was caught with it. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The freaking Smuggler's Guild is probably going to put my portrait up on a wall somewhere in Las Pegasus HQ. They'll take every new member up to it and say "See this scraggly stallion right here? The one with the dorky hat. Do not, under any circumstances, be like him. Else you'll end up stairing at metal bars the rest of your life."

Funny, I hadn't even come to terms with it until then. It took me this long to realize that I was going to jail. There was no way in Tartarus or Equestria that I could weasel my way out in court either, not a single way. The bust was too quick and clean to leave anything to technicalities, even with the best lawyers in Canterlot. There was just too much damn evidence. I was, for lack of a better term, royally and utterly screwed beyond comprehension.

     That was it. No ifs ands or buts about it. I. Was. Going. To. Prison. No more smuggling, no more airships, no more skies. They'll probably take away my ship, turn it into a military vessel, let half my crew go, and send the other half into jail with me. That'll be fun, all the newer crewmembers will probably blame the whole thing on me, and then I'll become some big burly earther's "shower buddy."

Oh Goddesses, my crew. How are they going to handle this? They can't leave, most of them only know the Sea Singer and nothing else. The Crusaders will have to find another ship, probably a crappy one compared to the Singer, Dr. Swab will have to go back that hospital full of greddy bloated doctors, Derpy would have to move back in with her parents, Crowe would have to go back to pirating,  I don't even know what Oakfang would do, and Easybreeze...

Oh Goddesses, Easybreeze! She'll be sent some run-down old orphanage with no one to look after her now. Celestia have mercy, I can't leave her all alone, not now. My brother, Wind Waker, he and Rose are still on the lamb, and they have no idea what's going on! I promised them....I swore to them that I'd take care of her, no matter what. I can't break that promise, I just can't.

     But I'm here...and I can't do a damn thing outside of these four walls except talk to the gaurds, and even they won't pay me any mind because there not even here!

     I sighed aloud. That's it, I've got to get out of here... and I think I know just how to do it.

     I darted off the bed and stuck my head through the door's bars "Gaurds! Hey, gauurrrdss!" My words echoed down the dim hallway of jail cells, with no ears but my own to hear them "Oh for the love of..." Well, there goes that plan.

      Why in the Deep Green Sea would they have no guards aroud? What if I had a heart attack, huh? Who would know? Okay, maybe I'm not that old yet, but it doesn't mean that I won't have and medical emergency with no one to look out for--

     Ahh forget it. I could actually use this to my advantage.

     I spun around and dragged the overly firm mattress off of the cot and, to my delight, there were plenty of decent springs in the bed frame, more than enough to preform the feat that I had in mind.

     I picked a loose spring out of the crowd with my teeth. It was just bendy enough to get it into shape. For almost half an hour, I fumbled with that peice of metal in my hooves and mouth, biting and bending it around, until it was as straight as it was ever going to get, then I added a little hooked end to it with no small amount of effort.

     With my newfound tool I sashayed over to the locked prison door. The bed spring found its way into the door's keyhole and I slowly picked at the inner mechanism of the lock.

     Okay, I hadn't had to pick a lock in quite some time, I had mostly used the skill for a little petty burglary back in Canterlot just after the Curse hit, that was about a year or so before I found the Sea Singer. Point is, I'm pretty rusty at this particular skill.

     Oh, I felt it. I felt the lock give way. Almost got it... just a little to the left... amlost there... almos-- Snap!

     "Ponyfeathers!" I growled as my makeshift lockpick snapped. Maybe I was a little rustier than I thought.

     No matter, I had hundreds of springs and an unlimited time budget. I plucked another spring from the bed frame and went to work.

X-X-X-X-X

     "C'mon baby, ninth time's time's the charm!"

That's what you said the eigth time around. the voice in my head whispered.

     "Shutup."

Tic tic tic...tic...tic...Chunk!

The iron door triumphantly swung itself open.

     I stopped to admire my hoofwork, feeling quite glad that I had been a theiving hoodlum ten years ago. "Groovy." was all I said before trotting out of my cell a free pony.

     I peered into the other cells as I passed them by. As I had suspected, every one of them was just as empty as the last. Odd. Very odd is the time when Canterlot's dungeon had a slow day. That bugged me There should be other crooks that aren't me in here. I thought.

     Whatever, I was more concerned with the lack of gaurds. There were no sentries posted in the hallway like any other prison, meaning that they were stationed elsewhere, meaning that I was more likely to run in to them when I leave the room. Wonderful.

    Okay, I needed to come with a plan. Step one: Escape cell--check. What's step two? Well, obviously,  it should be Aquire stuff. Now...where would they be keeping my coat and hat? Probably in a room behind the front desk, whch was likely to be gaurded. Yeah, perfect, just what I needed.

     I found myself at the end of the hallway. When I tested the door, I found it to be locked.

     Not a problem. Tick tack tock, picked was the lock. I was lucky to not break my last lockpick that time, else It'd be a freaking pantomime.

     The door opened up into staircase,  scarcely lit with flickering orange light by the few torches clinging to the walls. I've got to hand it to the interior decorators of this place, they sure knew how to make a dungeon look spooky as hell.

     It took more time than I had thought it would to ascend to the top of the stairs. I must have gone up four flights before I reached the end, this place was probably far underground. Maybe that's why there are no inmates here, the cops decided that putting the crooks in jail wasn't worth all the effort of climbimg all these damn stairs, and they made an exception for me since I was on the receiving end of the biggest booze bust in history.

      Anyhoo, the top of that staircase held a single door just like the last, only not locked this time. It opened up into a bleakly decorated room with only a table and a few chairs and...a raven blue griffin with sword in his claw and a flintlock in the other standing over the unconscious forms of two royal gaurds, his chest heaving as if he had just punched out a pair of burly earth ponies.

     I relaxed my body the instant I saw this griffin's face. "Hello, Crowe."

     My crewmember's eyes went wide when he caught sight of his captain before him.  "Jefe?" he shouted in southern griffin "What the hell?! What are you doing?"

     "Escaping.  I trust you're doing the same."

     Crowe shook his head vigorously and pointed an accusing talon my way "No, I'm here to rescue you, hombre!"

     I chuckled and put my hoof on his shoulder "You're acting like you don't know me, Crowe. When has there ever been a cage that could hold my sorry flank?" Come to think of it, it was pretty easy escaping my cell. Maybe they'll make up for it by having competent gaurds. That was a joke. Prison gaurds are never better at combat than you, it's like some unbreakable cosmic law or something.

     The griffin chuckled along with me "Heh, I ain't never met a place you couldn't break out of. You're like some kind of mastero, man."

     "I try." Oh yeah, I should probably ask him about Step Two "Anyway, do you know where the keep all the prisoner's personal affects?"

     Crowe cocked an eyebrow at me "The hell are "personal affects?" Is that like a band or something?"

     I stared at the lookout blankly, my brain working overtime to comprehended what he just said before I reminded myself that Equestrian was not his first language "Oh, uh no. It means "their stuff." Do you know the place where they put all the things that the prisoners had before they got tossed in jail is? Sorry, I forgot that you've only been speaking Equestrian for a year."

     A glint of comprehension sparkled in Crowe's eyes. It looks like somepony just learned a new word. "Yeah, I saw them gaurds take your clothes into some room. I know the way from here, vamos."

     "Lead the way..." And so, I followed the griffin.

X-X-X-X-X

     Crowe had been busy.

     All the way through, the griffin led me past a multitude of unconscious and tied up ponies, all strewn about the floor, forcing me to step (and trip) over a ton of gaurds. Some of them had shallow bullet wounds and cuts, but not a single one of them were dead. There was going to be a hell of a lot of blood stains on the carpet,  but no bodies to clean up. Crowe had always taken great pains to not get anypony killed, which I can respect. Not having the blood of good ponies on your hooves is an excellent feeling to have.

     On my way to the room that we spoke of, I noticed a particular shade of yellow from the corner of my eye. It was a specific kind of color, found only in the coat of a ceartian irate lieutenant that I barely knew.

     I casually trotted up to Lt. Spitfire, bound with the wires of an electric radio and gagged with her own uniform hat. Crowe had laid her in an upright position and, judging by the way she was trying to murder me with her fiery eyes, Spitfire was already conscious.

     I yanked the gag out of her mouth "Howdy, miss Spitfire. Did'ja make up your mind on that cup of joe I offered you?"

     The officer spat some excess hat fuzz out of her mouth and fixed a gaze of hatred on me "Not a chance."

     "Not a chance that you'd make up your mind ooooorrrr--?" I droned.

     "Not a chance that I'd go on a--" She stopped herself "Why am I even talking to you? Go away and leave me be."

     Ohh, that is so not the thing to say to me "Just because you said that, I'm going to sit here and chat you up until you accept my offer." I plopped my sorry flank on the floor and gave her an easy going smile. You know what they say about mares, persistence is key. Persistence and breath mints.

     Crowe took a step foward "Uhh, Jefe? You sure we got time for this? I'm sure that a few gaurds got awa--"

     "Quiet, Crowe." I commanded, waving a hoof at him "I'm getting my game on."

     "Ay Jefe, sometimes I just cannot understand you."

     I ignored my crewmate and looked deep into the lieutenant mare's brown eyes, she looked back with a gaze that suggested bloddy murder. "So why do you hate me?" I asked.

     "Why do you like me?" she countered.

     "No way, I asked first."

     Spitfire rolled her eyes "I don't like you because you're a self-serving smuggler and a petty crook. You have no regard for the law, only for yourself. I read your file. I know you better than you're actually aware of." Wait, I have a "file?" Damn. That's the kind of thing that I like avoid. Having "a file" never bodes well for a stallion in my line of work.

     It was my turn to roll a pair of eyes "Whatever. My file lies."

     "Now you answer my question." she demanded me.

     "Nope!" I cheerily declared, and then preceeded to unceremoniously jam the hat-gag back into to the fair lieutenant's mouth.

      Spitfire grumbled angrily through the peice of clothing,  cursing me in some elaborate mumble language while I went on my merry way.

     "Uh, Captain." Crowe said to me just as we trotted out of earshot "I'm pretty sure that's not the way to properly woo a girl."

     I shot the griffin a dry look "Miss Spitfire don't seem like the cany and flowers type of mare, now does she?"

     "She doesn't seem like the sarcasm and bondage type either." he countered.

     "Touché."

      "Huh?"

     "It means, "good point" or "you win."

     "Oh."

     We continued on through the prison. So far I had counted ninteen ponies that Crowe had incapacitated. Hot damn, I sure made the right decision in appointing him security officer, the guy could knock more heads than five of me put together.

     Ooops, make than twenty. I spotted a uniformed EBRoT officer splayed out over some secretary's desk. On her left hoof, I noticed, was a particularly nice and shine gold w--Hey, that's my watch!

     "I knew it!" I roared as I galloped over the the oblivious officer "Somepony owes me ten platinum."

     The mare only twitched as I undid the watch and put it back where it belongs, on my hoof and nopony else's. Just as I was redoing the clasp, that officer's eyes fluttered open. "W-what...?" she murmured blearily.

     I instantly froze in place and shared a look with Crowe. The mare was fumbling to find her balance on the wooden desk. She gazed around the room dizzily, her eyes came to rest upon me and my security officer. "Hey, you're not supposed to--"

Ring! The telephone gave of a cheery chime as I smacked the officer upside the head with it, instantly sending her back to dreamland.

      I tossed the phone to the floor "Well that was unexpected."

     "No shit." Crowe agreed.

     "Come on. Let's blow this joint."

     "Right behind you."

X-X-X-X-X

     Guns guns guns! Who loves guns? I love guns!

     After a bit of poking around for my stuff, Crowe and I inadvertently uncovered a treasure trove of gunpowder and steel... the armory. Lucky for Crowe that the gaurds hadn't gotten here when he broke in and I busted out, else there'd be a major shootout.

     At least a dozen muskets and two dozen pistols lined either wall, along with a multitude of standard EBRoT short swords and two mannequins decorated with full sets of plate-mail armor. There was enough steel in here to arm a small outer-rim colony.

     "Ooooh, shiny!"

     Too bad that I was in a hurry and I couldn't carry too much stuff, all this weaponry would be worth a fortune in a place like Serenity Island. I don't know if you knew this, but iron was getting hard as hell to find since all the mines down below that belonged to Equestria were flodded with rutting killer plants and giant pony-eating insects. Besides, a half-earth pony and a griffin walking out of the city jail with their arms and bags full of guns would get the attention of every cop in Canterlot.

     Instead of looting everything in sight, I merely grabbed what I could afford to carry; which was a pair of powder horns, two six-pack tins of musket shots, a single flintlock pistol, and a sword for good measure. All that stuff should be well-hidden under my coat when I do find it.

     We moseyed out of the armory and quickly found my stuff locked away in the room next door. Finnaly. I was totally naked with out my hat and coat, both in a literal and emotional way. It felt like I was walking around with a "shoot me" sign taped to my back when I was without my gear.

     Now armed with a pair of custom made flintlocks and and a cocky attitude, I proudly strode out of that jail like I owned the place, into the busy streets of Midtown. I was a free stallion. Yes siree, ain't no cage that can hold the alustrious Captian Cloudstride and his merry security officer. We were unstoppable, unflappable, and unbreakab--

     "Oh shit." I uttered.

     "Oh mierda." Crowe echoed in his native tounge.

     Facing us down was nothing less than four whole squads of EBRoT Special Forces Police, scattered about the streets in defensive positions. A wall of steel armor and pure muscle stared me down behind the sights of over a dozen muskets, all trained on and Crowe and I.

     "Well... this sucks." Crowe deadpanned.