Far Cry: The Tale of Tinker

Chapters

Introduction
Chapter 1: Flight
Chapter 2: Adrift
Chapter 3: Imprisoned

Introduction

When Tinker got two tickets to the Poneighsian Islands for a week in paradise, he imagined he'd spend that time laying on a beach, trying the local cuisine, soaking up the sun with Slipstream, jet-skiing, sport fishing or, if he worked up the nerve, surfing. He couldn't have been more wrong. True, he did do many of those things, but he did so under very different circumstances than those he had imagined.

The Hoof Islands... Once, they were a tropical paradise, inhabited only by the indigenous flora and fauna. Later, a splinter group of the Poneighsian zebra tribe, with their distinctive blue stripes, settled here and called it home. That was many years ago. When explorers discovered gems, and -more importantly- coal on the islands, they sensed an opportunity ripe for the picking. The “Stinking Rich” trading company soon set up several mines in the hills and converted several beaches into tourist traps.
The company, however, underestimated the sheer stubbornness of the Poneighsian zebras, who have remained resolutely attached to their ancestral home. Eventually, the trading company's hoofhold here collapsed, the mines and resorts abandoned. Other groups, including the remnants of the changeling swarm came and went as well, all of them disappointed. But, where one pony sees trash, another sees a wealth of treasure...

The sad tale of the Hoof Islands only continues from there, but to really, truly understand the Hoof Islands and their dark and varied past, one must go there. That is, of course, if they survive.

“Is it recording? Ah yes, there's the light. Good.”

“This message may never see the light of day. I know I probably won't, but I feel it needs to be done. These last few months have been some of the craziest, most sick, twisted, and messed up moments of my entire life, yet I've never felt this alive before.... Would I go back, trade them for the life I lived before, if given the choice? No. You probably think I'm crazy for saying that, but you don't know. You haven't lived the life I never asked for. Maybe this recording will change your mind, or maybe not.
That's for you to decide. The day began like most others....”

Chapter 1: Flight

Chapter 1
Flight

The day began like most others. Luna could be observed from afar lowering the moon, then retiring into the castle, as her sister was raising the sun from wherever it was that it spent the night. It was late spring, the birds sang their songs to welcome the day. Many ponies were headed off to work, while their foals went somewhat reluctantly to school. The lucky few who either had the day off or didn't need a job were headed out to meet with friends.

And me? I was asleep. Dead to the world, but not for long. My pleasant dream was mercilessly shaken from me by my marefriend, Slipstream. The comforting sight of her cream coat and light blue mane greeted me as I blinked my bleary eyes. She was speaking to me, but my consciousness hadn't quite caught up with the real world; I couldn't understand a word she was saying.

“...you even hear me? We're going to be late, Tinker!”

“Late? For wha...?”

“For our flight, you idjit! Didn't you remember we're flying out to the Poneighsian islands today?”

“Oh... Right. We packed last night, didn't we?” I said groggily.

“Yes, Tinker. Those of us who were awake did. I honestly don't know how you sleep as long as you do and yet are still tired.”

“Hey, all that sleeping is hard work,” I said, my natural sarcasm returning alongside my increasing awareness.

“Right, of course it is. Now hurry up! The airship won't wait for us,” she said impatiently.

“It's not a DH series airship, is it?”

“Of course not, you wuss. They only use DH series ships for mail service after that one went into a tailspin and nearly hit the castle last year. Thank goodness it was on a maintenance flight when that happened. We'll be riding an SF model 3 ship. It's bigger, faster, and safer. Now get moving, or we won't be going at all!”

“Alright, alright. Don't get your stockings in a twist,” I said teasingly. “Or I'll end up having to un-twist them...”

“I-I don't think we have time for that...” she said, blushing furiously.

“Well, then why are we sitting around? Let's go!”

Shortly thereafter, Slipstream and I stepped out of our apartment onto the mildly busy street. We had a week's worth of supplies and clothing in our saddlebags, not that we would be wearing any. I took a few steps out into the street and turned to wait for Slipstream to lock the door. Doing so got me a good look at both her and our apartment. The building was rather drab by Canterlot standards, but it served our needs. Of course, seeing Slipstream there with it livened the place up. She finished locking the apartment and trotted up to me, breaking my reverie.

“ Hello? Equestria to Tinker. You just gonna stand around all day, or are we going to the Poneighsian Islands?”

A short while later, we left our quiet little suburb and entered the busier downtown area of Canterlot. Much of the early morning traffic was headed to work, or running errands. Several delivery companies also used these roads. At least two of the ponies in the throng were headed to the skyport, and they needed to be there soon. We passed a few well known shops, such as Glaze's Woodcarving. Despite the sounds of machinery inside, it wasn't open yet. Pony Joe's doughnut shop was unsurprisingly packed. The sweet smell of their baked goods wafted to our muzzles from the open door. Unfortunately, we didn't have time for doughnuts today. Thankfully, there would be several in-flight meals provided.

Once at the skyport, we made our way past the majestic, carved stone outer arch and into the building proper. The noise hit us like a wall, as crowds were all around. Many important looking ponies were on their way to business in far corners of the kingdom. One in a pinstripe suit barged past us, jostling my bags. There were only two flights to major vacation destinations scheduled for today. There had been talk of adding a flight to the Crystal Empire, but the frequent stormy weather discouraged such a notion when trains made the trek in safety. Our flight was at the third bay, and scheduled to leave at 7:15 AM. I checked the ornate clock high on the wall, and nearly had a heart attack. The clock read 7:09.

“We've got to hurry,” I said to Slipstream.

“You don't say? Now, check your bags. We'd hate to lose them.”

I checked my saddlebags, finding a strap that could've come undone in our hurry. I tightened it up, and nodded to Slipstream. With that, we took off for the third gate at nearly a gallop. Ponies around us, especially the guards, gave us looks, but we hadn't the time to explain ourselves to them. We dodged our way around those ponies who didn't see us, and galloped when we could. I could see the gate for the third bay just ahead, with a short line. These ponies could not be run around. We joined the line, and I began nervously watching the clock. It was already 7:12. The flight left in three minutes, and there were half a dozen ponies ahead of us, with more further in. Guards at the entrance spoke with the ponies in front of us, and then it was our turn. Another minute had passed.

“Tickets please.” the guard on the left said.

“You guys don't usually do this, do you?” I asked.

“Not for shorter flights, but we don't want anypony getting a free ride to the Poneighsian Islands. The cost in time and resources to turn around and drop off a freerider would be too much. Now, tickets please.” he said, finishing somewhat agitated.

“Here you go,” Slipstream said, ripping the tickets from my magic with her wing and giving them to the guard.

“Ah, the winners. Congratulations to you two and have fun, but try to hurry up. Flight's leaving soon.”

I glanced at the clock; the guard was right. It was now 7:14. As we passed through the entrance, I heard one of the guards speak to the other.

“Alright, that's the last of them. Close it up.”

I glanced behind me, and sure enough, the guards were busy locking the gate. Behind them, I saw another pony rushing to the gate. He wasn't slowing down. If anything, he sped up. One of the guards saw me looking, and turned just in time to get a face full of pony. The rushing pony collided with him head on. Fortunately for the guard, and rather unfortunately for the rushing pony, the guard was wearing a thick metal helmet. The guard got up from the heap, shaking his head. The other pony was unconscious.

“See what I mean?” he said, turning to me. “A free ride to those islands can be a tempting thing.” He turned away, grumbling about the paperwork he'd have to fill out over the pony on the ground.

I turned around, and saw Slipstream waiting at the back of another line. This one was to check luggage for, of all things, illegal fruits. According to my ticket, the Poneighsian islands had a fragile ecosystem. It was a quick check, with a trained unicorn passing his or her glowing horn over the luggage. Even with the speed, however, I became very concerned when the clock struck 7:15. The look must have registered on my face, because one of the ponies checking the luggage gave me a quizzical look as the next traveler approached.

“Don't you worry your little head. They'll delay a few minutes for this kind of voyage.”
Immediate relief flooded through my veins, and I saw Slipstream breathe a relieved sigh beside me. All this time I had worried we wouldn't make it, only to learn now that we would be fine. True, we wouldn't have if I had slept in any longer, but we had already crossed that hurdle.

As we submitted our bags for the scan, I could now glimpse the airship outside the windows. On the side, gold-painted carved letters proudly proclaimed that this was the EAL Tornado. The doorway was still open and ponies continued to walk patiently up the gangplank.
“See?” The unicorn said, noting my stare. “Nothing to worry about.” He quickly scanned our bags and lifted his head back up to look at us. “All clear,” he said, smiling. “Enjoy your flight.”
“Not likely,” I thought to myself. I did not enjoy flying. Slipstream however, being a pegasus, loved it. We boarded the airship and once again she remarked on the type and keel.

“I've never been aboard an SF model 3 before,” she said, releasing her inner fanfilly. “It looks amazing, inside and out! Seventy-five meters long, and fifteen wide! It's nearly double the size of the model 1 I usually ride for business.”
“Heh, yeah. Amazing,” I said nervously. I didn't enjoy flying. The few times I had done it before had been nerve-wracking.
Slipstream turned her head, glancing back at me. “Don't worry. There has never been an accident on an SF model of any kind, let alone a model 3.” she said, looking bemused. “Now come along, you big scaredy colt.”

We were the last ponies aboard, so seating was scarce. We managed to find a pair of window seats about halfway down the right aisle. Takeoff procedures were already underway, so we quickly stowed our bags and sat in our seats. Buckles came standard on all airship benches, but they were seldom used, even by a nervous flier such as myself. I began hearing a low hum as the spark powered props began charging up. Suddenly, I found myself clutching the hoofrests tightly as my eyes shot wide open to the feeling of the entire craft shuddering. I quickly calmed however, when I realized that it had just been the docking clamp disengaging.

Soon, the spark props began spinning at high speeds, pulling us up and away from the Canterlot Skyport. Slipstream directed my attention out the small round window, and I immediately regretted it. All the soaring architecture of the skyport and the surrounding buildings were so far down already. I backed away from the window hurriedly, but Slipstream stopped me. I calmed down enough to take another look. Ponies on the streets below were little larger than ants. As we passed around the towers of the castle, I found a new appreciation for the gleaming marble structure. Up close, each block of stone was intricately carved with lines and whirls that were only hinted at when viewed from further away.
Slipstream noted my interest.

“I hear it took a huge team of pegasi and unicorns over thirty years to carve just one tower.”
“No earth ponies were involved?” came the question from in front of us.
I looked up. A teal blue unicorn with a fiery mane was looking back at us, her front hooves propped on the back of her seat.

“Frostfire? I didn't know you were heading to the islands too.”

“Yeah, It cost me a good chunk of bits, but I managed to snag a last minute spot.”

“Awesome!” Slipstream said ecstatically. “This trip is going to be so much fun!”

“You two know each other?” I asked, puzzled.

“Yep,” the teal unicorn answered brightly. “I'm guessing you're Tinker?”

“That's right, my friend here is Tinker,” Slipstream answered before I could say anything. “To answer your earlier question, yes and no. Earth ponies did most of the heavy lifting, but at the time, earth pony tools were too crude to use for sculpting something that important. The castle is, after all, over a thousand years old.”

“Right, yeah. I get it. There some kind of monument dedicated to the workers?”

“Yes, there is, but it's in the central courtyard, so the public doesn't get to see it often. Rather a shame, really. It's quite magnificent.”

“Oh, you've seen it?”

“Well, yes.... once or twice, from a distance.”

The two mares fell into a deep discussion of architecture and history, subjects I had only marginal interest in.The signal that we were free to move around arrived a few minutes later as the airship leveled off from its steep ascent.

“I'm headed up,” I said to the conversing mares, getting out of my seat. “You're welcome to join me.”
“I'll be up in a few minutes.” came Slipstream's reply.

“Yeah, me too.” Frostfire chimed in.

I headed for the stairs, passing a pair of black unicorns with gray hair, presumably brother and sister. They appeared to be in very deep conversation, talking in near whispers as I trotted past. I ascended the stairs, hearing the howling of the wind under the door, and promptly bumped into the earth pony mare who had stopped suddenly in front of me. She glanced back at me, raising one eyebrow, before turning her attention back to the filly who had balked at going outside.

“The wind scares me, mama!”

“It's all right, Snowleaf, the noise will go away once the door is open.”
The little filly slowly, nervously pushed the door open and peeked out. She stood there, staring outside, before bounding through the door rather suddenly.

“Ugh. Not again. Come back, Snowleaf! Be careful!” the mare said, chasing her filly outside. I shrugged and stepped out soon after. The bright light stunned me briefly as my eyes adjusted. I went slowly ahead to the bow of the craft. Glancing down, I had a wee bit of vertigo as my old fear returned, but the ground was far enough away that it quickly passed.

Far below me, the buildings and roads of Canterlot marched slowly away into the distance. Already, I could see open country in the distance ahead of us. Turning my head, I glanced back at the rest of the airship. Only now did I get a true grasp of the size of the SF model 3. I had ridden a few of what Slipstream assured me were model 1s, but they were small, meant for short, quick flights. The model 3 I rode on now was more than twice the length of those smaller ships, and double the width. A flicker of motion drew my eyes up to the cockpit at the stern of the ship. Inside, the pegasus captain directed the movements of the airship through his crew. Anypony could be a captain, Slipstream had told me, but the job was almost exclusively held by pegasi. With their innate knowledge and love of flight, it only made sense.

Closer to me, the door to the lower decks opened, drawing my attention away from the cockpit. Slipstream stepped out first, followed seconds later by her friend. The mares each had a different reaction than mine. Slipstream's eyes immediately became the size of dinner plates at the prospect of being on the deck of one of her favorite airships. She proceeded to jump around in excitement and run to various features of the craft. I facehoofed in embarrassment. Frostfire, on the other hoof, merely looked around curiously. She noted my marefriend's excitement, before trotting over to me.

“Your marefriend has quite the set of interests, doesn't she?”

“Yeah...she's always liked architecture, but get her talking about airships, and it can be a little difficult to get a word in. She's a little...eccentric about them.”

“No harm in that, though, is there?”

“Well, no. In fact, it can be quite entertaining.”

“Yes, quite. I'm glad her and I share a few of the same interests. If nothing else, it'll at least make the trip a little interesting. Although, for all of her knowledge of many varied subjects, she didn't tell me much about you.”

“She didn't? Huh. That's usually the first thing she tells her friends. She's never mentioned you to me either, come to think of it. How long have you two known each other?”

“Hmm, it must have been just under a year ago when the boss sent us on a business trip together. Before that, we'd never met, but we hit it off pretty well on the trip and we've been friends ever since.”

“That's very odd then. She's never so much as mentioned you. Then again, she has had a lot on her plate until just recently. I guess she must have been distracted by the excitement of being on this trip, and riding on an SF model 3, no less...”

“So then, what about you, Tinker?”

“Oh yeah, I'm excited to be out of the city for awhile too, but I'm not exactly comfortable off of the ground.”

“No no, silly. I meant about what you do. Slip told me you're an inventor of some sort?”

“Not exactly. I don't usually invent things so much as improve on what's already there.”

“Care to give an example?”

“Well, say you've got a watch that stopped working, or a toaster that needs repaired. The one to call to fix it is me. Sometimes I even fix things that aren't broken.”

“You fix things....that aren't broken?” she asked, tilting her head quizzically.

“Ayep. The clock in our apartment never has to be wound up again... although it's been a minute or two off ever since...”

“Cool! But... that's not exactly what I meant. I meant more along the lines of where you grew up, where your family is, that sort of thing.”

“Oh... well. I don't mean to sound rude, but I hardly know you. ”

“Well, duh. I don't want your whole life story or anything. Like, why do you fix things?”

“Oh, well after my father died, I started fixing things, I figured that if even one thing I had fixed or improved saved somepony, it would be worth it. I was really good at it, and after awhile I made a career out of it.”

“Slipstream told me you're lazy,” she said jokingly.

“Well, business has been slow lately, and what I do requires a lot more concentration than energy.”

“I know, silly. I was just giving you a hard time.”
I glanced over at movement off to Frostfire's left. Slipstream had finally gotten over her excitement and was approaching.

“Hey guys! Can you believe this airship?! It's awesome!” Slipstream called exuberantly, apparently not over her excitement yet. “It's a shame the cockpit is off limits to civilians. That's where the real magic happens.”

“They're off limits?”

“Yes," she replied, eliciting another facehoof from me. "Or at least, that's what the crew rather forcefully told me after I tried going in.”

“Nice. Next time, you mind including me in your hi-jinx?” Frostfire asked.

“Sure thing,” came the reply. “That is, if you're up for it.”

“Always. I live for that kind of stuff.”

I looked down again. Canterlot was now completely behind us. Open fields passed serenely below. Off in the distance ahead of us, I could just barely make out the shimmering line of the ocean on the horizon. I gazed out around us for awhile, taking in the sights. South of us, the Whitetail woods stretched into the distance, green and vibrant. Off to the north, the Unicorn Range marched slowly past, their majestic, snow-capped peaks dominated by Smokey Mountain, the largest by far.

“You know, I heard there was a dragon living in that mountain some years back.”

“Gah!” I said, jumping. “Don't startle me like that.” I still wasn't comfortable flying, especially at the prow of the ship, but it had the best view.

“Sorry,” Frostfire said apologetically. Then, her expression returned to that happy-go lucky look that appeared to be a default for her. “As I was saying, I heard there was a dragon living in the mountain a few years back. He was going to sleep there.”

“That's bad... isn't it?”

“Yeah. Dragons spew smoke when they sleep, lots of it. They also sleep for a really long time.”

“There doesn't seem to be more than a light haze around it.”

“Aye, and that's what's left thirteen years after the dragon went elsewhere after snoozing for only a day.”

“How could it have lasted this long?”

“Nopony knows for sure, or if they do, they aren't saying. Slipstream, been any pegasi groups that tried to figure it out?”

“One or two,” Slipstream replied. “but they came back with confusing data. As far as we can tell, the wind patterns should have blown it all away long ago.”

“Oooo, a mystery...” Frostfire said, drawing the words out with overemphasized drama.

“Yeah, well I'm not looking for any mystery on this vacation.” Slipstream commented.

“...we aren't going near that mountain are we? Sounds dangerous,” I said somewhat nervously. Mysterious air currents and airships didn't sound like an appealing combination.

“Oh no. That mountain is far out of the way of any of the airship routes,” Slipstream said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, good,” I said, relieved. Glancing to the side, I noticed the pair of black unicorns were now on the left side of the deck. They still appeared to be in quiet conversation. Looking further to my right, I noticed a speck in the distance. I couldn't make out any details, but I was fairly certain it was another airship. Directly south of us, a large bank of clouds with rainbows beneath them marked the location of Las Pegasus.

“I see where you're lookin', Tinker. There'll be plenty of gambling where we're going.”

I turned, embarrassed, to see Slipstream and Frostfire both staring at me, amused looks on their faces.

“What?” I asked. Surely there's nothing wrong with a little sightseeing?”

“No, not at all,” Slipstream said, “but that wasn't what you were thinking of.”

“How do you know?”

“Oh come on, Tinker,” she said. “We've been together long enough that I know you almost better than you know yourself.”

“Oh, alright. Fair enough.” My next thought was interrupted as the captain's voice rang out over the deck through speakers.

“Attention passengers: We will be offering in-flight brunch on the open deck and in the mess hall located at the fore of the second level in fifteen minutes. In other news, we will be over the ocean in just over half an hour.”

With that, several ponies wearing Equestrian Airlines uniforms arrived on deck from below and the cockpit. Moving to certain crates around the deck, they opened them and pulled large wooden half-circles with a small hole in the center out, as well as several short wooden poles. To an inexperienced eye, these devices would make no sense, but I had witnessed it before.

They began by snapping the wooden poles into evenly spaced slots around the deck, then folded the half-circles open with a sharp click that could be heard even over the rushing wind and the hum of the propellers. The half-circles, now transformed into tabletops, were then slotted onto the wooden poles, forming a quick, easy, and secure table.

“Wow, I've never seen that before,” Frostfire said. “Are they always so efficient?”

“First flight, eh?” I asked.

“No, my second,” she replied, “but the first one was short and no meals were served.”

“I see. Most of my flights are like that, but I've seen them do this on one of the few occasions where the flight was long enough that I ventured out of the cabin.”

“You really are afraid of heights, aren't you?”

“Not nearly as bad as I once was. There was a time when you couldn't pay me enough to get on one of these things.”

“Wow, that bad, huh?”

“Ask her,” I said, gesturing to Slipstream. “She'll tell you all about it.”

Brunch was served not long afterward. The meal consisted of a dandelion sandwich with a sprig of fennel on the side for taste. Water and cider were provided for refreshment, and there were cupcakes available for the foals and those ponies with a sweet tooth. By the time brunch was over, we were well over the ocean. Looking behind us, I could just make out the coast, as well as a small dot in the air, possibly the same airship I had spotted earlier. It was probably my imagination, but it seemed a bit closer than it had been.

“You know, those clouds don't look all that inviting,” Frostfire said, drawing my attention forward. I looked at the completely harmless little tufts of cloud amid the otherwise crystal clear sky in front of us and shook my head.

“I don't think so, they're...Oh yeah, real funny.” I said, catching the grin on her face.

After that, the talk devolved into simpler things like who was the favored princess, why there was a running joke about bananas and the moon, and other various topics. We had been chatting like this for a few hours when I happened to glance back and saw that the speck that I had seen earlier was now quite a bit closer, and I could clearly see that it was another airship. I couldn't identify what kind it was, but it was clearly a different kind than the one we rode. Slipstream had, unfortunately, just gone to use the mare's room.

The other airship continued to grow larger as it drew nearer to ours, and the symbol on the side of the balloon that Slipstream had told me several times was mandatory on all Equestrian airships came into view. It was the distinctive mail envelope sealed by a muffin that signified that this other airship belonged to the Equestrian Mail Service. Instantly, I thought back to what Slipstream had said about the fact that DH model airships were used exclusively for mail. My thoughts must have shown, because Frostfire was giving me an odd look.

“Something wrong there, Tinker?”

“Wha-what? No, nothing,” I said, trying to hide the nervous look that she had noticed. “Nothing at all.” Of course, I had never been good at hiding my expression, so she saw right through it. Fortunately, Slipstream was on her way back to us as we spoke.

“Hey guys,” she said, before she too noticed my expression. “What happened, Tinker? You see a ghost or something?”

“Yes, he did,” Frostfire said before I could properly respond. “It was twelve feet tall and had eight legs!”
Ok, maybe it wasn't fortunate after all.Trying to end the situation, I quickly caught Slipstream's eyes and pointedly looked at the other airship, which she hadn't yet noticed.

“What, that? Don't be a silly filly, Tinker. That is a DH model 3. It wasn't even in production when that other airship went down. It has all of the latest safety features as mandated by royal decree.They're just as safe as the SF models.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positively. All airships are inspected before and after each flight. If they're missing even the most minor of safety features, they are flagged as 'no fly' until the issue is resolved. The safety systems include several redundancies, just in case the primaries fail. Trust me, it's safe.”

“Alright,” I said, still somewhat nervously, but relieved at her reassurance. “If you say so.”

“Attention passengers: some of you may have noticed that the EMS 'Muffin Wagon II' has joined us,” the captain’s voice suddenly said over the intercom, startling us. “This is due to the possibility of reduced visibility during the next portion of our flight, and having two airships together will allow us to boost our signal if necessary to stay in contact with the Las Pegasus tower until we can establish contact with that of the Poneighsian Islands. I also happen to be a friend of their captain, and she has been flying airships almost since they were invented all those years ago. So, trust me when I say that there being two airships this close will not be a danger. In fact, it would be more dangerous if they had not joined us. That is all.”

Sure enough, as the other airship drew alongside us, the name “Muffin Wagon II” in bright white could be read on the side. The distance between the two airships was not comforting to me.

“..Wait, so another airship this close is actually safer than if they were far away?” I asked, puzzled.

“Yes, Tinker,” Slipstream said in that matter-of-fact tone she used when explaining airships to me. “The ships can link together via magic to boost their signal range to more than what either of them is capable of on its own.”

“I see, but the skies ahead look pretty clear,” I said, indicating the crystal clear air ahead of us. “It doesn't seem very likely to be any reduced visibility in that.”

“Yeah, you wouldn't think so, but with how infrequent flights to the islands are, the Pegasus teams don't keep the clouds in check on a daily basis. Weather around here can be mildly unpredictable as a result. The most we might have to deal with is a light rain or a thick fog bank, and those are the extremes.”

“Okay... If you say so,” I said, uncertain but willing to trust my marefriend. A yawn suddenly escaped my mouth. “Oh dear, I'm tired. I think I'm going to head below and catch some sleep before we get there.”
“What? After all that sleeping you did last night?”
“What can I say? Sleeping is hard work.”
“Ugh,” she said, exasperated. “Sometimes you can be so ridiculous, Tinker. Enjoy your nap."
As I turned and walked away, I caught her next words to Frostfire.
“I swear, that stallion sleeps more than my entire family put together.”

On my way back to the door to the stairway, I was nearly knocked over by a lightning ball of white and green as the same excited filly from earlier bounded past me. Apparently, brunch had given her a boost of energy. Her mother was once more engaged in chasing down the errant bundle of energy as she deftly ran around me. I made it to the door with no further incident, and after pulling it open with my magic, went inside. The bench we had originally sat in was unoccupied, as were several others, their occupants in different parts of the airship at the moment. I laid on our bench and promptly dozed off.

I was woken a few hours later by Slipstream again shaking me awake.

“Hey Tinker, time to rejoin the land of the living,” she said. “They're serving early dinner in a few minutes.”

I got up and began following her back up to the deck. Before I got there, I noticed that the lamps inside the cabin were on. The windows were no longer bright with sunlight, suggesting the sun had recently set. “How long was I out?” I asked as we ascended the steps.

“Oh, just a few hours,” she replied, pushing the door open. Right away, I realized that I had been wrong. The sun was still up, but it was concealed by clouds that threatened rain.

“Where did these come from?” I asked, indicating the clouds.

“Like I said, Tinker: Unpredictable. Hey, Frostfire,” she yelled. “Guess who finally woke up?”
Ahead of us, the teal blue unicorn turned around from where she had been watching the clouds.

“Well well well,” she said as we approached her. “Look who's up and about.”

“What can I say? Slipstream said there was food, and I like to eat as well.”

“Is that all you think about, Tinker?” Frostfire asked jokingly. “Just eat, sleep, repeat?”

“Funny, but no. I do think about other things on occasion.”

Dinner was served shortly. It included alfalfa burgers with a hint of dill. Refreshment was once again provided via water or cider, but there were cookies in place of the cupcakes they had served earlier. We ate in relative silence, the only speaking being comments on the taste of the food. At the end, all three of us sat back from the table, full to our heart's content. Nearby, many of the other ponies did much the same thing.

The rain started while we were still conversing at the table. At first, it was merely a light drizzle, few drops made it onto the deck thanks to the balloons holding our airship aloft. However, the clouds soon took on a more ominous darkness, with the rain quickly became a raging downpour. The wind had also picked up, meaning the relative cover the balloons had provided was useless now. Many of the other ponies on deck had decided to return to the lower levels, and around us the crew was busy packing away anything that wasn't bolted down. We were about to head down ourselves when the first flash of lightning seared across the sky. We -myself especially- needed no further encouragement to go below-decks. The roll of thunder sounded mere seconds later, as we were going down the stairs.

Once below, we joined the rest of the passengers in sitting in the benches. A few of the more nervous looking ones were busy fumbling with the buckles on their safety belts. As I sat, I too worked the safety belt over my belly and buckled it. Slipstream and Frostfire did not, for the moment.

For a third time, the captain's voice came over the speakers; “Attention passengers: due to the unprecedented weather we are experiencing, I must ask that you go below-decks and fasten your safety belts to prevent injury to yourself or fellow ponies. We expect the storm to be over shortly.” As I looked out of the window into the growing darkness, I could see that a magical cable was being strung between the two airships. As a connection was made, the cable began to give off a faint yellow glow. Lights on the other airship were also being activated.

“Is that the cable they use to boost the signal, Slipstream?” Frostfire asked over the sound of rain on the wooden hull.

“Yes, though from what I've heard, they typically don't have to use it this early in the flight. Then again, this is without a doubt the worst weather they've ever experienced on the flight to the islands.”

“You're telling me,” the comment came from our left. “This is my fourth trip there. The other three were clear skies the whole way.” I glanced over at the new speaker, who was a pale tan earth pony with a dark brown mane and tail.

“And you are?”

“Oh, forgive me for not introducing myself. The name's High Roller. I typically head to the islands for the gambling, as it's quite a bit more entertaining than back in maneland Equestria.”

Looking out the window again, I could no longer see the other airship with any clarity. Only the lights on board were still clearly visible, while the rest of the ship was simply a dark mass. A flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the airship from behind for a split second, then all went dark once more. Soon the wind picked up again, and rain began splattering noisily into the window, making it all but impossible to see anything outside with detail. It continued to get darker all the while, until the other airship was little more than a collection of lights in the rain-lashed darkness. Even the cable with its glow was barely visible in the rain. Suddenly, a nearby bolt of lightning threw everything into stark relief, startling me. Thanks to the intermittent wind, I could just barely make out the shapes of ponies on the other airship before the world outside once more plunged into darkness. The boom of the thunder came mere seconds later, rattling the windows and vibrating the entire airship. Another flash of lightning, the closest yet, left imprints on my eyes as it scorched a path through the atmosphere. There was no boom of thunder, only a sharp, resounding crack that only comes from the closest of lightning bolts. Even in the well-insulated cabin, everypony heard it plain as day. Those who had not seen the bolt itself emitted startled gasps. Somewhere a few rows up, a filly started crying.

As I looked fearfully back out of the window, a third flash of lightning erupted...but this one struck the other airship. The blast was as deafening as the flash had been blinding. When I could finally see again, distant flashes illuminated the other ship… and the scorch mark where a spark prop had been.

“Well, there goes getting there on time,” Slipstream commented from beside me.

“Why's that?” Frostfire said, turning around to face us.

“Because DH model airships are designed to be very speedy with only a few props. Now that one is gone, they won't be able to fly straight when this storm dies down. We'll have to go onto the other side and tow them so they don't fly in circles. And that will---”

“Attention passengers,” the captain said, interrupting Slipstream. “Some of you may have noticed that the 'Muffin Wagon II' was struck by lightning.” Those ponies who hadn't yet figured that out gasped or went wide-eyed. “Her captain has assured me that the situation has been contained and that there is no danger to either ship. Now, since they have lost one of their few propellers, they will need to be towed into the islands after this storm blows over. Since the 'Muffin Wagon II' was designed for speed, we will not be significantly delayed by towing them. EAL policy also states that all passengers will be properly compensated for--” Now it was the captain's turn to be interrupted as a second bolt of lightning struck, punishing my abused hearing. The lights immediately went out, and the ponies I could see looked around fearfully. Flight attendants quickly came down the aisles from where they had been with portable lamps. They asked any unicorns they saw to light up their horns, myself and Frostfire included. The cabin lamps, meanwhile, began flickering back to life

Glancing over at the other airship, I saw lights through a few of the windows, and saw a flickering orange light. I also noticed that the wind had blown the two ships closer together. The barely visible cable between them was sagging drastically from where it had previously been. Suddenly, the other airship shuddered. Simultaneously, that dim flickering orange glow separated into two distinct motes of light before both disappeared. All of these details were small compared to the fact that the other airship was now swinging directly towards us in the high winds. As it swung around, I could also see a familiar faint glow from one of the still-functional -and apparently still operating- spark props. Many ponies began to panic. Those further from the windows were confused, and began panicking as well. Others swore.

Personally, I was scared out of my wits. Beyond words, I could only think to try and get out of the way of the oncoming airship. However, my running was promptly cut short; I was held fast by the safety belt. Time seemed to slow as the Muffin Wagon II drew ever nearer to my window. I held onto Slipstream with all my strength, and she onto me. The other airship continued its turn, and for a moment, it appeared as though it might not collide, but it slammed through the hull thirty feet behind me with a mighty crash. Instantly, our formerly stable airship began wallowing like a drunken pegasus. Many of the ponies inside reeled from the impact. Those that had been a few rows back were nowhere to be seen. The hull of the Muffin Wagon II continued its unstoppable path through the back of the Tornado. Those ponies who could got out of the way, but there were screams, and there was a liquid on the hull that looked suspiciously darker than the rain.

The Muffin Wagon II suddenly sheared in half from the force of it still turning while the front was lodged in the Tornado. The rear half of the other airship spun down and away, while the front remained behind. For a moment it seemed like what was left of the Muffin Wagon II would remain lodged in the larger Tornado. However, the Tornado shuddered again as the keel snapped. A dropping feeling in my stomach told me what my eyes couldn't. We were falling. Looking up through the gap that the Muffin Wagon II had torn in the ceiling, I saw that the two halves of the Tornado were only being held aloft by a single balloon, the other one was nowhere in sight. Then, a third mighty crash sounded as the remnants of the Muffin Wagon II severed the rear quarter of the Tornado completely apart from the front. With that, the front half of the mail-carrying airship dropped down out of sight, leaving a trail of envelopes in its wake. With the keel snapped, the front and rear halves of the Tornado were now held aloft very awkwardly. Each piece immediately swung down like some kind of demented amusement park ride. Those ponies unlucky enough to not have anything to brace themselves fell from the now-vertical floor down into the dark abyss beneath us. I looked back up to where Frostfire was cowering on the bench above mine. She was right to do so. Another shudder rolled through the remains of our airship as the distinctive sound of snapping rope reached my ears.

The front half of the Tornado picked up speed as nothing held its weight against gravity anymore. A mighty crash of breaking wood and glass sounded above me. The rear of the other airship had returned, slamming into the dining hall. Shards of glass and wood rained down on us as what was left of our airship began to tumble. Ponies everywhere were screaming, but they couldn't be heard over the rushing wind, the crashing thunder, and the sounds of the Tornado breaking apart. My belt buckle had somehow come undone during the commotion, and I found myself suddenly clinging to the bench with all my might. However, it was slippery from the rain, and I had never learned self-levitation. As Slipstream tried to help me back up, a chunk of wood fell from above and smacked into her, stunning the pegasus. My hooves slipped from hers and I fell, screaming as her outstretched hooves reached for me.

When consciousness returned, the world still looked black; only now there were dots of color, and it was very cold. I soon realized that I was floating in the ocean, clinging to what looked suspiciously like the piece of wood that had hit Slipstream. Those dots of color were fires amidst the wreckage. It was hard to make out any more details than that, but over the roar of the waves, I swore I could hear other ponies in the water. I clung to my chunk of wood and prayed before the darkness took my consciousness once more...

Author's Note

Now over a year in the making, The Tale of Tinker is finally ready to be mercilessly critiqued by sharp-eyed individuals all over the world! What Have I gotten myself into?

Special thanks: to Kkat, without whom I would never have gotten the inspiration to start this endeavor; to Delvius, author of New Roam (and it's successor/replacement) for showing me where I made some bigger mistakes, and to Kevin (you know who you are), for helping the river of the story flow stronger and deeper.

That said, I will be revisiting Chapter 1 again at some point (mostly the last 3rd of it) in order to make it flow better. Frostfire will likely also get a new name when said revisit happens.

Chapter 2: Adrift

Chapter 2
Adrift

I was drifting, though I couldn't tell if this was some ethereal no-pony's land or the afterlife. There was no ground beneath me, no sun above, just black, empty space. I floated on in silence for some time, until I finally spotted a light in the distance. Drawing nearer to it, I saw that it was a pony. Not just any pony, but the cream-coated Slipstream. She was facing away from me and hadn't noticed my arrival.

“Hey Slipstream, do you know--”

“Why did you leave me, Tinker?” she said, interrupting me. “Did what we had mean nothing to you?”

“Wha...What?” I said, incredulous. “Is this some kind of joke, Slip? If so, it's not funny. Not in the slightest.”

“The only joke was on me, when I fell in love with you,” she said, still not facing me.

“Come on, Slip. Quit being ridiculous.”

Silence was her only reply. I stepped forward on the cold floor that had come from nowhere and laid a hoof on her back. Instantly, I recoiled, my hoof feeling as if twenty magically-supercharged wasps had all stung me simultaneously. Only now, looking closer and listening, could I hear her sobbing in time with her shaking body. Her wings hung limp by her sides.

I didn't know what to do. She thought I had left her and something didn't want me to comfort her. I tried speaking to her, but my words fell on ears that didn't want to hear. With no way to console the mare standing mere feet from me, she may as well have been a million miles away. I tried again to lay a hoof on her back, to the same painful result. Since touching her was completely out of the question, I did the only thing I could think of that didn't involve magical shocks. Sitting on my hindquarters, I began talking. Slowly, at first, I confessed all of my failures to her, whether she was listening or not. For every time I had lied, for every time I hadn't been there for her, and for apparently leaving her, I apologized. Eventually, I had nothing more to say, so I simply laid down and tried to sleep my way out of this place. Sleep wouldn't come, no matter how I tried. Her sobbing continued for what seemed like eons.

Eventually, I tried getting away just to lessen the sound, but no matter how far I went, the sounds of her racking sobs remained just as loud. If anything, they actually got louder. Looking around in desperation, I noticed another mote of light, this one flickering and dim. Approaching it, I saw that the light was being emitted by a unicorn's horn. Attached to the horn, barely visible, was Frostfire. She looked like she was searching for something or someone.

“You okay Frostfire?”

She let out a startled “eeep!” at the sound, quickly facing me. “I've been looking everywhere for you!”

Although she was standing mere feet away, it sounded like her words came from a great distance. At least she seemed willing to speak with me.

“You have to get out of here, Tinker,” she implored. “Now, while there's still time!”

“What are you talking about?”

“This place,” she said, gesturing around with her hoof. “This isn't real.”

“I kind of figured that out already. Slipstream would never act like that, even if I had left her. But why is there a rush to get out of here?”

“Wait, you talked to her?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Did you touch her?”

“Yes.”

“Oh crap,” she said. Then, looking thoughtful, she added “how many times?”

“Twice.”

“Not good. Not good at all.”

“Again, why the rush?”

“Because if you're in here too long, your physical body will die, and you will be stuck in this, this....” she said, trailing off as she looked for a proper word. “This 'between' place.”

“Oh... well how do I get out? And if this is my consciousness, how are you here?”

“I am here to save your life. As for how, that's irrelevant right now. All you need to know is that I can be here, and you have to get out.”

“Okay, but how can I?”

“Normally, through concentration, but you haven't got the time to be trained. An intense shock will be the only way to get you out this time.”

"Like what happened when I touched her?” I said, gesturing to Slipstream.

“That's not intense enough, or you would have woken up by now. You also need to know that anything that happens to you in here will affect your physical body.”

“If this isn't real, then how?”

“Because your senses are telling you that it is real. There's ground beneath your hooves, light for your eyes to see, sound for your ears to hear, and so on.”

“So how do I find a shock that will wake me up without killing me when there are only three things in this place?”

“The surest way is to find something that goes completely against what your dream state wants and doing that. Even then, there's no one-hundred percent guarantee that it'll work, but it's a lot better than the alternative. Look, I have to go, my magic can't keep this up much longer,” she finished. Sure enough, her horn glow was growing dimmer by the second. “Find a shock, and get back to the real world. Hurry, you haven't got much time...” she said, disappearing as her horn glow faded.

I waved my hoof through the place she had occupied and met no resistance. Frostfire was gone, leaving me alone in this emptiness with what was apparently a figment of my own imagination.

'Hmm.... an intense shock... but touching her outright won't work. What is more intense than that?' I thought to myself. I pondered it for a few moments before it finally hit me. Above my head, a dim candle suddenly lit, then disappeared. Not wasting time to ponder on that, I galloped towards Slipstream. After stopping a few feet from her, I moved around to her front. I figured a firmly-planted kiss would be the most intense shock I could find. Noticing me in front of her, she raised her head to fix me with the most dejected look she could form on her tear-streaked face. As I struggled with the sudden emotional strain, she slowly turned to face away from me once more.

Okay, maybe this wouldn't be as easy as I thought. Recovering from the look she had given me, I quickly walked around to face her once more. As she looked up at me again, I went in for the kiss.
'Here goes nothing,' I thought as my lips approached hers. When they met, it was like someone had clamped wires from a spark generator to me and turned it on to full power; yet at the same time, I was somehow capable of feeling her lips... for all of an instant. The shock suddenly stopped, leaving only the residual pain, and the sound of rushing wind. Opening my eyes, I saw Slipstream was already several feet away and shrinking rapidly. Her image shrunk to the merest pinprick of light as I flew away, then the same speck of light rapidly grew to encompass my entire vision, blinding me.

I awoke with a start. The sunlight was bright, and it took my eyes awhile to adjust. Looking up from the piece of wood that had served as my raft, I saw only empty, calm seas for miles around. As the waves gently carried me up and down on the way to wherever it was that the current led, I could spot a few other pieces of debris in the distance, but nothing nearby. With no way to get out of here, it seemed like I had escaped the frying pan only to fall into the fire. The sun beat down on me mercilessly. A sharp sting in my leg signaled injury, but it didn't seem serious. Trying to conserve what little energy I had left, I lay my head back down on the wood and simply thought. I probably wouldn't live through this, so my thoughts naturally settled on Slipstream, my marefriend for nearly three years, and how I'd never see her again. That led to thoughts of my mother, growing old in Fillydelphia with no children left. I also thought of Frostfire, whom I had only just met, but who had been friends with Slipstream, and had given me the knowledge needed to escape my own consciousness.

That part, at least, was reassuring, as it let me know that she was still alive after the storm. For how long though, was anypony's guess; she was certainly in the same proverbial boat as I was. Come to think of it, a boat would have been great right then. I halfheartedly cursed my luck and the sisters, my words nearly as colorful as Celestia's mane. It was almost surprising when no lightning struck me down for my words, but at the same time, mildly disappointing. Truth be told, I would prefer a quick, painless death over wasting away in the middle of the ocean.

The sun was beginning its descent when I began to look around again. Some of the debris had come closer, but was still far too distant to risk a fruitless swim to. Behind me, I could see some kind of land, but it was many miles away and indistinct in the hot air.
Soon, I noticed something else in the water. It was a fin, and it was heading towards me. Each time I spotted it from the crest of a wave, it was closer. Panic gripped me as I realized it was probably some predatory creature attracted by the scent of blood. In a frenzy, I turned and began kicking, propelling myself in the general direction of "away." As I grew weaker and weaker, the fin continued its inexorable advance. I could vaguely make out a dark shape beneath the waves. Realizing the futility of fleeing, I turned to face the oncoming predator and tried to stop it with my magic. Unfortunately, a large sea creature was far more than I was used to moving, and in my current state, all I could muster was a faint glow before my concentration failed. Desperation sank in as I tried to think of what to do. The only thing that came to mind was fighting the creature, a bad idea even on a good day. Turning away from the creature, I lined up a desperate kick to fend it off. As the creature's pointed head came into range, I kicked my leg backwards with all of the force I could muster. I'd like to say my kick carried all of the force of a cannon, knocking the creature all the way back to maneland Equestria... but it didn't. It was a feeble kick and ill-timed to boot. I clenched my eyes shut, waiting for the bite that would surely be end for me.

After what seemed like an eternity passed and nothing happened, I warily opened my eyes once more. The creature, which upon closer inspection, appeared to be a dolphin, was floating in the water beside me, curiosity in its eye. I was no expert on animals, let alone marine life, but it seemed the dolphin was also mildly peeved at me for trying and failing to kick it. The effort of my brief struggle made itself known as my eyelids began drooping of their own accord. As I struggled to stay awake, the dolphin moved behind me. Panic briefly returned as I felt it bump into me, but quickly dissipated as I realized it wasn't trying to eat me. Instead, the dolphin was pushing me toward the island in the distance.

“Heh, thanks,” I said weakly, promptly lowering my head once more as exhaustion carried me to some semblance of sleep.

I awoke some time later to the crashing of waves ahead of me. The sun had just set, it seemed. The helpful dolphin was nowhere to be seen. Inexplicably, I felt sad for not thanking it properly for its help. Seeking it out would have to wait however, as the current was carrying me to shore. As the sound of waves breaking drew closer, I was able to get a look at the shore. A sandy beach, backed by dense vegetation greeted my eyes. It ended a few hundred feet to my left at the base of a tall, rocky outcropping. On the right, the beach stretched out of sight in the darkness. I also got some inkling of the height of the waves crashing on the shore.

“Well, shoot,” I thought to myself. This was going to hurt. The waves were more than a few feet tall. I cast away the wooden wreckage; chances are having it nearby would do more harm than good at this point. Bracing myself as I drew nearer, I squeezed my eyes shut against the spray and curled up into a ball. Hopefully, there weren’t any rocks hidden in the -- a sudden, sharp pain in my back dashed that hope. The powerful water continued to carry, or rather toss, me about as the shore drew closer. Finally, with a mighty heave, the waves deposited my pathetic body on the sand. Weakly, I drug myself up the beach and out of the surf. As the waves continued their incessant pounding, I scanned the beach once more. Some dark shapes nearby showed where other debris from the crash had already washed ashore. Seeing nothing of immediate interest, I got up and made my way slowly to the edge of the forest and peered inside. In the increasing gloom, I couldn't make out many details, so I tried using my horn again. The glow was feeble and flickering, but with it I at last got a good look into the forest. My frayed nerves took another hit as the forest looked back, but it was short lived as the creature came into the light. Looking down at the squirrel, I shook my head, then returned to the beach. In the morning, I would take stock of my situation, but for now, sleep was the only thing on my mind. I found a comfortable patch of sand and curled up against the chill of night. The repetitive crash of the waves soon lulled me to sleep.

Several hours later, bright rays of sunlight warming my face woke me. As my eyes adjusted, I once more saw the rock. Where it had been black in the darkness, it now shone gray in the morning light. Closer at hoof, my suspicions of the dark shapes on the beach proved mostly correct. Many revealed themselves to be pieces of wreckage, whereas a few others were simply common driftwood. Among them, I spied a food storage cask, and my stomach immediately made its presence known. The rumbling it gave off reminded me that I hadn't eaten in over a day, If not more. I rushed to the cask and took a closer look. It was labeled “APPLES” in bold red lettering. I pried off the lid and took a look inside. My nose was immediately assaulted by the stench of rotten apples, and my eyes confirmed that the contents of this particular cask had spoiled, soaked in saltwater. My stomach rumbled once again. I looked around from my new position on the beach. Spying another cask, I headed closer to the rock formation. This second cask listed pears as the contents.

“Oh well,” I said. “Not exactly tasty, but they'll do.” However, my hopes were once again crushed by the rather smelly contents. I looked around again, and spied a small crate labeled “Salt Crackers.” Peering inside, I finally saw what I had been seeking. Dozens of containers were inside, each one holding a pair of saltine crackers within. Many had burst, the contents turned into a rotten mush, but several were intact, or only had the crackers themselves crushed. I quickly ripped a hoofful open with my telekinesis and dumped the contents in my mouth. Chewing in satisfaction, I took the opportunity to look around. The rocky outcropping was only a few dozen yards away, and it looked like there was a way to the top. Opening up another pack of crackers, I downed them and trotted warily toward the rock. True enough, as I got closer, I could see a narrow path winding its way up the hill. Setting my hooves on the path, I kept my attention to the ground in front of me and carefully began to climb. Soon, I came to a hairpin in the trail and risked another glance around. This time, my fear of heights made itself known once more. A slip now would mean a very quick, painful descent thirty feet down to the beach, or worse.
Continuing my ascent, my fears were nearly realized as a particularly bad section of the path gave out beneath me. I ran as I felt the rocks shifting, and only just made it to solid ground. Treading my way carefully up the rest of the path took most of the morning, and the sun was high in the sky by the time I finally crested the rocky hill. The view didn't disappoint. Further inland, the land rose sharply upward, with a valley ending at my beach. The hills themselves were covered in vegetation and blocked my view of whatever lay on the other side. One hill, on the opposite side of the valley caught my attention with a patch of foliage that didn't quite seem right. It was hard to make out from this distance, but it looked like some kind of overgrown structure. My curiosity was piqued, but it would have to wait. Turning around, I trotted towards the seaward side of the rock. Stopping a few feet short of the edge, I looked out across the water for any sign of help arriving. The crystal blue water and a cloudless sky were all that I could see in any direction. No boats, no airships, not a speck in sight. Sighing, I lowered my head in resignation. Only then did I hear something that sounded strangely like a voice.

“Can it be,” I thought. “Or is the isolation driving me crazy already?” Looking around at the beach I had washed up on, only the remains of some crates greeted my eyes. "Yep, I'm going cra—There it is again! Only...I think it's behind me.” Turning around, I trotted over to the other side of the rock and looked around. The beach below was considerably more rocky than the one I had landed on. I scanned it with my eyes for a few moments, spotting a few more pieces of debris, including what looked like one of the benches from the Tornado. All of the debris that I could see was in considerably worse condition than that which had landed with me, and likely was that way because of the rocks. Still, I didn't see any ponies below. “Wait, did that rag just move? That's a pony!”

Exuberant now that I knew I wasn't crazy, I quickly looked around for a way down to the rocky shoreline. Spotting a relatively gentle slope near the forest, I ran towards it and began my descent.
Keeping my eyes on the pony, I never saw the rock poking out from the sand. My descent quickly turned into a tumble, rolling down the hill at frightening speed. When I finally came to a stop, my mouth was filled with sand, and I was sore all over, but thankfully nothing seemed broken. I took a few steps toward the pony on the beach before wincing in pain. Looking back at my legs, I saw the reason. The cut in my leg had reopened during my tumble, and the dried salt that stained my brown fur had gotten in. Ignoring the minor pain, I ran towards the other pony. Getting closer, I realized it really was a rag. The movement I had seen must have been the wind. Disheartened, I sat down on my haunches right there and just stared at it. “I am alone after all. Why? Why me? Why not some other pony who knew about survival?” I glanced down at my flank, where the screwdriver and half a gear seemed to mock me. “I'm just a unicorn with a gift for small machinery, not anything that will be useful here.”

I had sat there for a good length of time when the rag moved again. Only then did I see a leg sticking out from underneath the fabric. Dashing over, I quickly pulled the rag up and away to reveal the pony beneath. It was a black unicorn, covered in dirt. Blood seeped from several wounds all over his body, and a bruise had one of his eyes swollen shut. His uninjured eye opened ever so slightly, and the pony looked at me. He tried to get to his hooves, but collapsed back to the sand. I then noticed his right hind leg looked wrong, either dislocated or broken. Mustering all of my strength, I conjured a levitation spell and helped him stand. Making sure to keep the weight off of his injured leg, we made our way up the beach and toward the trees. It was slow going and oddly quiet, with me focused on my magic and the other pony in too much pain to make any sound but the occasional grunt.

As we got into the shade provided by the forest, he stopped.

“Here...” he said weakly. Taking care to keep the weight off of his leg, I carefully set him down.
“Ahhh!” he said, wincing as his leg brushed a rock. Once settled, he took a moment to look around with his one useful eye. “Any...any others?” he said weakly. At first, I didn't understand.

“Others?” I asked, tilting my head.

“Other... ponies,” came the response.

“Ohh... no, not yet. I've only seen you.”

“Arrgh,... probably too much... to hope for.” he replied, pausing to take breaths. “Still... best to... keep eyes open.”

“No need to worry on that account,” I said, thinking of a certain cream-colored pegasus.

“Good,” he said, pausing to take another breath before continuing. “Any food? Any water?”

“I found some crackers. That's it so far.”

“Crackers...no good. Don't eat crackers.”

“Why?” I asked, thinking of the ten or so I had wolfed down.

“Without water... crackers have salt.” he said. “Will... speed dehydration.” I facehoofed.

“Shoot. Why didn't I think of that?”

“You... ate some.” It was more statement than question, but I answered anyway.

“Yes.”

“Best find... water then.” He said, looking up at me. “Have to go... alone, unless you can fix... my leg. Don't worry... I'm not going anywhere. Take a bucket... or something to... arrgh... hold water.”

“Where am I going to find a bucket?”

“Look around. I'm sure there's something... in all this wreckage.”

“Right, duh,” I said, looking back towards the beach. “I'll go find something usable.”

"Clean too...” he muttered as I walked back down to the beach.

A short time later, I trotted back up the beach, bucket in hoof. It was dirty, dented, and had a hole near the top, but it would serve. Approaching my only companion on the island, I presented it to him.

“Yes... that will work,” he said, eyeing the bucket. “Do you know a... purification spell?”

“No, I can't say I do.”

“Then bring the... water back here before you... drink any. Dehydration is bad, but so is...arrgh illness.” he said, obviously still in pain from his wounds.

“And where should I look for water?”

“Anywhere inland. With this many... trees, there's got to be some streams...or ponds. Try to make it quick.”

“Okay, streams and ponds, got it.” I turned to leave, then hesitated. “What's your name?”

“Firestride. You?”

“The name's Tinker.”

The beach was lost to sight as I trudged into the forest, bucket at my side. After trudging some distance, the sound of the surf was overpowered by those of the forest, though it never truly disappeared. Making my way up the incline, I searched for signs of water. Foliage was everywhere, making a canopy high above me and a carpet beneath my hooves. The signs of water were at once everywhere and nowhere. Working my way deeper into the forest, the incline gradually became steeper until I was climbing just as much as walking. Soon, the sound of a burbling creek greeted my ears. Following the sound for awhile, I found the source. There, in front of me, a creek flowed over a rock and into a pool before continuing to the sea. It was a small thing, partially choked with debris, but it would serve. My dry throat made itself known, but I remembered what Fire had said and resisted taking a drink. Scooping up a bucketful after rinsing out the bucket, I turned and trotted back the way I had come.

About a quarter of an hour later, I emerged from the vegetation onto the sun-drenched beach. My companion, however, was nowhere to be found. Panic briefly gripped me as various grisly and unrealistic scenarios played out in my head, but passed when I realized that I had come onto the beach at the wrong place. Making my way between the smaller rocks towards their larger cousin, I soon came upon where Firestride had washed up. After taking a left, I found him.

He was asleep when I arrived, but woke at the sound of my hooves on the forest floor.

“Oh good, you found water.” he said as I presented the bucket to him. “Now all we need to do is this.” With that, he lowered his horn to the water and began purifying it. I had never seen a purification spell before, and it was quite the sight. Miniscule motes of light emanated from his horn, traveled into the water and moved about for a bit before leaving and disappearing one by one. The spell was obviously taxing to him, as he was shaking and sweaty by the time he was done, but the water was clearly clean. He took the first sip, blinking blearily as he did so. While I was drinking, he peered at something to my right. “Who... who are your friends?”

“What? Friends?” I said in confusion. He must have been delirious from the strain.

“Those three... in the red.” came the response.

“There's nobody here but us,” I said, turning around to show him. To my surprise, a dirty pony with a shock of red mane and a red tank top was only a few feet away, brandishing a bat.

“Wrong.” the red-maned pony said. Then my world went black again.

Chapter 3: Imprisoned

Chapter 3
Imprisoned

When I came to, the world was so black I thought I had lost my sight. Temporary panic gripped me, but lessened as I realized there was a cloth over my head. As I moved to pull it off, my hooves came up short, bound and tied together. Panic returned in full force as memories flooded back into my mind. My face, resting on the ground, was still sore where the bat had struck me.

“Oh look, this one's comin' round.” a nearby voice said over the hum of an engine.

“We can't have that just yet,” said another voice from my left. “Hit him again.”

Fighting my restraints, I tried to cover my head, to no avail. Suddenly my world lit up like the sun as the bat struck again and everything went dark once more.

Waking a second time, I made sure not to attract any more attention by struggling fruitlessly. Sunlight was filtering through the cloth on my head now, It felt like I was in the back of a vehicle. As it drove over a rock, the impact lifted me off of the floor momentarily, before gravity’s effect returned. The impact was painful, but somehow I managed not to cry out. Another pony nearby was less fortunate, grunting at the impact.

“I think they's wakin' up.” came a rough voice from nearby. I recognized it as the same one who had hit me earlier.

“It makes no matter now. We're almost at the gates.” came a second voice. It seemed he was the one in charge. Soon after, the truck came to a stop and the same pony addressed some others farther away.

“What have you got there, Roadrash?”

“Three more survivors from the airship.”

“Well I'll be dammed. Here I thought we'd gotten them all already.”

“These three were on Buckleg beach.”

“Really?” the second voice sounded surprised. “What condition?”

“One good, two fair.”

“They's real lucky then.”

“Not so lucky after all.” I couldn't see his face, but I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

“Alright then.” the pony on the gate said. “let 'em in!"
As the gate screeched, the engine revved again and the vehicle lurched forward. As the truck passed under the gate, the sun was temporarily blotted out. The gate screeched shut once more. I could hear the sounds of wherever it was they had brought me. The camp sounded chaotic. Reinforcing this was the stench. The entire camp reeked of decay and feces and a lot of other smells I didn't want to know the names to. My panic came back in full force as I struggled to get up. I actually managed to get my front hooves underneath me before the blow came. Something solid connected with the side of my head on the left, then again from the right. As I struggled to balance, a vicious kick caught me in the ribs, knocking me into the side of the truck bed. A flurry of hits followed close behind, so rapid I couldn't distinguish between them. I tried to curl into a ball to fend off the worst blows, but my restraints didn't allow for much movement. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, someone stopped them.

“Alright, that's enough. Let's not damage them too much before we've gotten our price.”
Had I not been struggling through a haze of pain, those words would have terrified me, but as it was, I was too afraid of another blow to even consider what he had said.

“Alright. Get those hoods off of them and get them into sorting.” the same voice that had just stopped the beating ordered.

The light that stabbed into my eyes once the hood was removed blinded me temporarily, and brought with it a fresh wave of pain in my head, subsiding only when my eyes adjusted. Blinking blearily, I took a look around and realized I had only been partially right about the camp. There was some semblance of order amidst the chaos, but several ponies appeared to be intoxicated, and several more were simply standing around. Even as I watched, an argument broke out and a beating ensued. They had their own brand of discipline, it seemed. Of course, as I processed this, it hit me. If they would do that to their own comrades, what awaited prisoners? A sudden jolt brought me sharply back to my own situation, as a pony armed with a magical prod ushered the three of us towards a large ramshackle building.

“That wa' jus a warnin'.” he said, “now get yer plots in there, or I'll hit ya again!”
Only then did I notice that one of the ponies ahead of me was Firestride, limping noticeably. The pony ahead of him was less fortunate. The remnants of a purple uniform covered his tattered grey coat, which was red in several places from open wounds, and when he looked back, I could see several cuts on his muzzle, but that wasn't the worst of it. His wings were both badly broken. He suddenly made a break for it, bowling over the guard on his left and bolting for the nearest exit. As he picked up speed, he spread his ruined wings and flapped. After two flaps, he left the ground...and then came crashing back down. His wings, while still apparently capable of lift, could not control his flight.
Guards rushed to him where he lay and began beating him right then and there, focusing on his already ruined wings.

Other ponies nearby began cheering the guards, and a few even joined in on the beating. Gulping, I looked away, back to the building we were being taken to. I wanted to help, but part of me knew it would only make it worse for both of us. I could only pray they didn't kill him. As Firestride and I entered the dark building, the sounds of the beating faded and new ones greeted my ears. Somewhere up ahead, a pony with a strange accent was talking, but I couldn't quite make out their words. After a pause, a spine-chilling scream came from the same direction. As my eyes adjusted, I could make out a door made of iron bars, with dim light filtering into the entryway from behind. The smell was overwhelming in the confined space, but I couldn’t tell if it was from our captors or something else. One of the guards brought out a key and unlocked the door before leading the two of us through. Once we were past, the door was shut with a resounding clang. This new room was far bigger than the one we had just come from, and looked to take up the majority of the flimsy structure. We were led to the center of the hard-packed floor where a dim, flickering light and rusted holes in the ceiling provided the only illumination.

“Well well well, some fresh meat,” came that same oddly accented voice from somewhere above and ahead of us in the darkness. “They said three more, but I only see two?”

“The third is outside getting grounded, he'll be in shortly.” the guard on my left replied.

“There's always a few who think they can get away. Try not to kill this one. Pegasi are only valuable if they're alive. If this one proves less trouble than that mare we brought in, we'll probably keep him instead.”

“Don't worry boss. I told them it'd be them in the pits if they killed another captive, especially if it had wings.”

“Good, but send somepony out to be sure.”

“Sure thing boss,” the guard said, turning to the pony with the magical prod. “You heard the boss, now go!” As the latter turned to leave, the guard continued “I mean it! That cream-coated bitch is more trouble than she's worth.”
That statement hit me like a ton of bricks. I had feared they had caught her, but hoped otherwise, particularly given her occupation. Now, that hope was dashed. I took some small comfort in that she had put up a fight, but it was fleeting solace at best. My thoughts were interrupted as that strange voice once more spoke, this time addressing Firestride and I.

“Now, what do we do with you two?” he asked. “I can see you're both unicorns, so that's a bonus. Not as valuable as pegasi, but better than dirt ponies. You there, with the brown coat. What's your talent?”

“I-I... umm...” I said, too shaken to form a proper sentence.

“Hey Cuffs, see if you can refresh his memory.”

The blow nearly knocked me off of my hooves, and the follow up finished the job.

“There, that should do it.”

As I lay there, Firestride whispered down to me “Just play along. Save yourself the bruises, I have a plan.”

“Get up, meat!”

Getting back to my hooves, I tried to compose myself as the question came again.

“What is your talent?”

“I-I fix things.”

“Well now, that's a start. What kind of things?”

“Small things, c-complex things.”

“Well gentlecolts, I think we've got ourselves somepony not completely useless here,” that strange voice said, bringing chuckles from a few of the guards. “We might be able to work him on the equipment. Maybe even the weapons, if he proves himself. Do you have a name?”

“Tinker.”

“That's 'Tinker, sir' to you,” the voice said sternly. “You belong to us now, don't forget that. Now then, how about the black one?”

“My name is Firestride and my talent is fire.”

“Hmm... not quite as useful, but still valuable. Might be he'll make a good show in the pit. Take them away for baggage claim.”

“Baggage claim?” I thought to myself. That made no sense.

“Hey Cuffs,” the guard on our right said as they led us from the room. “Don't he look like that black mare we brought in las' night?”

“You know, he does. I hope they're related. It'll make it that much sweeter when we break her.”
Fire said nothing, but the look in his eyes was all I needed to know. Some of the guards noticed too, and their grins only got wider. As we passed through the doorway, the shoddy metal walls were replaced by older, more orderly wood as I realized we had passed into a different structure entirely. Then, we took a right turn, and came into what was probably the most civilized-looking place I'd seen so far. Civilized, of course, was a relative term, but we had entered what looked like it had once been a hotel hallway. Doorframes marched into the distance at equal distances on both sides. Only a few rotting patches of carpet dotted an otherwise bare wooden floor. It was poorly patched in places, and stained with things I didn't want to name. The walls weren't any better. Cracks and water stains dotted them, but were nearly lost among the filth, graffiti, and crude depictions drawn in what looked like the same stuff that was on the floor. The hall was lit by an aging string of work lights crudely hung from the old gem light posts in the wall, with only a few of them actually working. The doors themselves had long since been removed, and most were replaced with crude iron bars. Peering into one as we passed, my stomach dropped. They were using the rooms as cells, and conditions inside were even worse than in the hall. The next room looked to be filled only with trash, until one of the lumps inside shifted and opened its eyes, locking them with mine. If the stench outside had been bad, it was hellish in here.

Moving on, the doors became less and less haphazard. The cells improved, but were still horrid. Near the end of the hall, one of the guards stopped and poked his head into the nearest cell.

“Hey, wake up, you cunt. My jaw still hurts and I want me some payback.” Suddenly, he jerked his head back as I caught a flash of movement inside. “Ohh? Still got some fight in you, eh? Good. It'll be fun breaking you.”

“Nails, there'll be time for that later." the guard leading us said. "Let's get these two sorted first.”

At the far end of the hall, we took another turn, leading down a dingy flight of stairs. At the bottom, we were greeted with a scene only slightly less messy than the one above, the main difference being that we were in what appeared to be a lobby instead of a hall. Briefcases and saddlebags were piled haphazardly around the floor. Many near the edges were opened or broken, their contents spilled or removed. The pile in the center seemed less damaged and worn than the others. Then, I saw some that looked familiar among the pile, and realized these were bags from the Tornado.

“Duff! Duff, where are ya, you mangy-mane bastard?” the lead guard yelled. “We got two more for claims!”

“Hold yer horses,” a muffled, agitated voice said from somewhere ahead of me. One of the piles shifted as a dirty gray pony with a brown duffel bag for a cutie mark emerged. “Do you gotta yell so loud? I can hear just fine.”

“Not through all the cobwebs in your head, you can't.” Duff nickered at that.

“They could hear you all the way back in Equestria with a voice that loud.” he replied gruffly. “Now, who do we have here? You first,” he said, gesturing to me. A shove by one of the guards pushed me forward.

“What's your name, sonny?”

“T-tinker, sir.”

“Ha! Sir, he says. Look, sonny. I ain't no 'sir.' Just Duffel, or Duff for short. Not that it matters. They always say sir, when they speak at all. Now then,” he said, looking me over “Can you see your bags in the pile there?” I scanned the pile nervously, then pointed with my hoof. “That one.” Duffel looked where I was pointing, then proceeded to clamber up the pile and pry the bag out.

“This one?” he asked, holding my damaged and dirty bag up.

“Yes.” Nervous as I was, I was also puzzled. Why go to the trouble of giving us back our bags if we were captives?

Duffel picked his way back down the pile and gave the bag to Cuffs.

“So,” Cuffs said, approaching me with my bag held across his back, his front hoof looped through the strap. “This is your bag, huh?”

“Yes.” The blow came without warning. My bag struck me across the face with more than enough force to knock me sideways.

“No, I don't think it is.” he said advancing on me where I lay on the floor. As he reached me, he pulled his hoof back for another swing. “You. Own. Nothing.” he said harshly, punctuating each word with a hit. These ones I at least was expecting, but they still stung. Stopping his attack, he spoke once more. “You are a captive, a prisoner, and a future slave. You'll never own anything ever again.” His tone was colder than the concrete floor beneath me. Turning to the other guards, he spoke again. “Get him up and get this bag sorted. I'll take care of the other one.” He dumped the bag at their hooves and walked back to where Firestride and Duff were standing.

As the guards ripped my bag open and began rifling through it, Duff went through finding Firestride's bag in the pile. A realization struck me then; we had been among the last ponies captured, but the pile still retained quite a bit of size. Even accounting for the second airship, there were quite a few unclaimed bags.

“Hey, Cuffs, check this out!” one of the guards sifting through my bag had something held in his hooves. Looking over at it, I saw it was a picture, and not just any picture. A cream-coated mare with sky blue mane held her wing around a tan stallion, both with smiles.

“What?” the other pony said, coming over.

“This one and that cream bitch know each other!” he said, presenting the picture to Cuffs.

“Well, I'll be. It must be my birthday and nopony told me. We're gonna have some fun tonight, bucks!”

Dread crept through me. We had to get Slipstream and get out of here. If the tone of Cuff's voice was any indication, they would do unspeakable things to her just for kicks.

“What's this on the back?” Cuffs said, taking the picture. “'Thanks for the good times, Tinkerbell! Just kidding!' Ha! Tinkerbell! That's gonna be your new name!” Despite the situation, my cheeks flushed. Why did I have to take Slipstream to see one of Canterlot's greatest singers all those months ago?

“Ohaha! Tinkerbell!” he continued. “We're going to have fun breaking you and your little marefriend too.” Yeah, we really needed to get out of here, but how? Glancing past him, I saw that Firestride had avoided making the same mistake with his bag, but they had apparently thought of that too. Duff took his bag back to the pile, and then once again asked him which bag was his. When he again gestured to the same bag, Duff picked it up and hit him with it, repeating what Cuffs had done. Either he didn't have as strong a swing as Cuffs or Firestride had been expecting it, because he weathered the blow much better than I had. As the guards continued rifling through my bag, destroying a pocketwatch I had been working on for weeks in the process, another set of guards arrived, carrying the gray pegasus between them. Dozens of new cuts and bruises dotted his body, and one of his legs had joined his wings in being broken. Despite the wounds, he was still conscious and I could hear him moaning weakly in pain. The guards dropped him unceremoniously on the ground near Firestride, eliciting a sharp cry of pain.

“Dammit. Finish this up, you two.” Cuffs said, turning toward the pile and the pony moaning in front of it. “Alright, who's bright fucking idea was it to damage him this badly?”

“Sorry boss. Needle was chemed up again. He did most of this. Damn near started swinging at us too.”

“That fucker needs to learn when not to dope up. I'd tell you two to go teach him a lesson, but he's probably forgotten the entire thing already. If the doc can't get this sorry pile back into something resembling a pegasus, it's coming out of your hides, got it?”

“Yeah boss.”

“Duff, you done with that one yet?”

“Oh, yeah. He's all yours, Cuffs.” came the gruff response.

“Good, now get started with 'flight risk' here. I'm taking these two to their rooms. Hey,” he said, now looking at the guards who, done with my bag, were rummaging through Firestride's. “You and Nails, come with me.”

“But, the bags,” one replied.

“Fuck the bags for now. They'll still be here when we're done. Right then, Tinkerbell,” he said, turning to me with a smirk. “Let's get you to your room.”

We were led back up the stairs past a boarded up window I had missed the first time. Sunlight slanted weakly through cracks between the rotten boards. Retracing our steps back to the hall of cells, we were led to one of the closest rooms on our left. As Cuffs fished the keys out of his pocket, a flicker of movement caught my eye, and my heart leapt. Across the hall, a cream-coated mare with a scattering of cuts and bruises spread over her face like poorly applied makeup was staring at me. Several emotions played across her face in the time it took Cuffs to pick out the right key, including anger and sadness, but I saw hope in those eyes as well. Gesturing to herself and then to me, she mouthed the words “I love you.”

Noticing the smile that had crept onto my face, the guard called Nails cuffed me over the side of the head. “What's got you so happy, eh?”

“N-nothing.” I replied nervously, glancing past him across the hall.

“Nothing, eh?” he asked, turning to where I had looked. “Well, so it is nothing. Kinda like you, hehe. ” As the buck's head shifted out of the way, I could see that Slipstream had disappeared, leaving only a dark doorway.

“Aha! There it is,” Cuffs said, selecting a key with a flourish. “Room 66 for you two.”
Glancing at Firestride, I saw him looking sidelong at the key. “Welcome to the Hotel,” Cuffs said, shoving us inside with a smirk. Slamming and locking the door behind us, he continued. “Enjoy your stay.”