Twilight took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “All right Pinkie, check list time. Sneak across Unicornian break-away state border undetected?”
“Check!”
“Locate correct Trotston speakeasy?”
“Check!”
“Disguises and cover stories?”
“Check!”
“Escape routes for plans A through E?”
“Check!”
“I guess that’s it then. Are you ready, Pinkie?”
“You betcha, Twilight. Let’s get a wiggle on.”
The door before them had no handle, but a quick spell sent hidden gears moving and the door swinging open. Twilight strode in, dressed in the narrow skirt and slim-cut vest of a Unicornian academic. Pinkie trudged in behind her wearing the khaki slacks and jacket of a working earth pony. She topped her bob-cut, iron-straight mane with a dull brown flat cap and black welding goggles.
Easy-paced jazz filled the smoky atmosphere of the bar, masking the murmurs of quiet conversation. A chandelier dimly lit the room through the cigarette haze. A quick glance around showed Twilight that the patrons were mostly unicorns. A long table was wholly taken by uniformed Platinum Council brown-shirts, one of which who seemed particularly interested in her. Twilight met his leering with icy contempt before glancing back around. Various pegasi and earth ponies were seated throughout the bar, including a mountain of a red workhorse wearing a harness and the overalls of a mechanic sharing a table with a caramel earth pony in a matching outfit. Lastly, a magically-collared earth pony dressed in rags swept the stage.
A moustachioed unicorn sporting a white jacket and a martini glass cutie mark approached the pair. “May I show you to a seat, Miss…?”
Twilight looked down her muzzle at the waiter. “Radiant Dawn. Yes, you may.”
The waiter bowed. “If you will follow me, Miss Dawn. Before I show you to your seat, however, I must point out that we require inferior ponies entering the Haughty Horn, regardless of their master, to register any door-opening mechanisms in their possession.”
“She neither possesses, nor has any need for such thing. If Raspberry needs to go anywhere or do anything requiring magic, it will be at my discretion and with my assistance.”
“Then if you will, Miss Dawn,” replied the martini-glass pony with a flourish of his foreleg, showing them to an empty table for two near the bar of the establishment.
Twilight ordered a small glass of wine for herself and a small black coffee for Pinkie. She dismissed the waiter and turned to look at the somber pink pony across from her, who sat with her head bowed submissively. Giving Twilight a questioning look from under her flat cap, Pinkie asked about the rest of the room with a shift of her eyes to the left and right. Twilight lifted a napkin to her lips in her magical grip and dabbed at them, but the glow of her horn was a little bright for a simple levitation spell and her eyes were focused far away. Dropping the napkin, she subtly winked at her pink companion.
A small smirk showed mostly in Pinkie’s eyes. “Everything copacetic, Twi?”
“Most definitely. I was easily able to identify and work around any magic detection networks set up in here, and actually managed to weave our voice dampening field right into the weave of their security system.” Twilight started animatedly demonstrating her exposition with her forelegs. “It’s really very fascinating, how the stability of this detection system inhibits tampering for the purposes of disarming or desensitizing the system, but allows skilfully placed enchantments to piggy-back on the spell weave an—”
“Twilight,” interrupted Pinkie with a patient smile. “They can still see us, you silly filly.”
Blushing a little, but turning her nose up in “Radiant Dawn’s” trademark haughty demeanour, she replied, “Ah, of course. I can’t be seen expounding upon the intricacies of magic to a common earth pony who would never understand; below my station, isn't it?”
Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Oh, what would we lowly earth’s do without our unicorn masters? Long live the Platinum Council, and its drive towards progress in Unicornian society!” Sharing a quiet laugh with her friend, Pinkie’s bob started to curl a little. It flattened back out as her eyes narrowed, fixed on a point to Twilight’s left. “Don’t’ look—2 o’clock, Twi, we’ve got a crasher headed to our little party. Some Platinumite torpedo just cut off our waiter and grabbed our drinks.”
Twilight grimaced. “I don’t have to look; it’s that colt who was leering at me earlier. I guess it was asking too much to hope that the look of disgust I gave him would turn him off.”
Carrying the tray with his magic, a yellow stallion wearing the epauletted brown shirt of the Platinumite rank-and-file sauntered up to the table. “I hope you don’t mind, Miss,” he said, addressing Twilight. “I couldn’t let a fine piece of calico such as yourself pay for her own drinks.”
The stallion made to set the drink tray on the table encased in his yellow aura, but Twilight pried drinks and tray out of his magical grip with her own. She gently set the drinks in their respective places, and sent the tray spinning neatly back to the pile on the bar. Pinkie quickly muttered her thanks to her “mistress” and brought the coffee mug up to her lips to hide the smirk that had the ends of her mane curling again.
Twilight held her eyes locked on the stallion’s, not touching her wine. “Thank you.”
Undaunted by neither her dagger-eyes nor her magical prowess, the stallion leaned his foreleg onto the table and turned his back to Pinkie, leaning in far too close for Twilight’s taste. “I don’t know what a filly like you is doing in a juice joint like this, but it’s not a safe place. With a chassis like yours, you could get some unwanted attention from the wrong sort, unless you’re on the arm of a strapping stallion such as myself.”
Snorting in the stallions face, Twilight raised her chin and looked down her muzzle at him. “I have no need for a protector. The magic in this, ‘chassis,’ makes it perfectly capable of defending itself. Besides, why do you think I drag this dirty earth pony around with me? The conversation? Her ingenuity makes dealing with intrusive stallions exceptionally expedient.”
The stallion turned around, and instead of the somber pink work mare seated there only seconds before, he saw a fiendishly grinning pony with a manic gleam in her eyes and a rather menacing, toothy, nutcracker-like device poking out of the her sleeve. Pinkie fondly petted the contraption. “I call him ‘Gelder’.” She brought it up to face level, and worked its maw open and closed. “Rawrr!”
Whether out of arrogance, or extremely misplaced self-confidence, the stallion continued. Standing up from the table, and taking a slightly aggressive stance, he leaned in towards Twilight. “Listen here you bearcat: you’ve got it all wet. I did you a solid, buying your drink. So, are you going to pay me back with cash, or a cheque that I can cash back at my room?”
Twilight gave Pinkie a sharp look to stop her hoof from straying down to her pocket. Before she could verbally attack both the stallion’s atrocious slang and intentions, a caramel-coloured hoof was tapping him on the shoulder. He turned to see the smaller mechanic from the corner table smiling at him.
“T’ain’t no way to be talkin’ to a lady now, is it?”
It was the stallion’s turn to snort in disdain. “And what are you going to do about it, Ethel? I don’t see a scrawny dirt-mover like you even having a chance of stopping me unless you’ve got a chopper hidden in your back pocket.”
Shaking his head, but keeping up his genuinely warm smile, the earth pony turned to Twilight. “Well ain’t that grand, Miss? A fella’s got some Dapper Dan in his mane, and he gets called effeminate. What’s the world got to?”
The thug took an angry step forward. “No look here you greased-up spa—”
Cutting him off with a foreleg around his shoulder, the mechanic turned him towards his unit’s table. “Somehow, Yella, Ah don’t see yer messmates backin’ ya up so y’all can accost a young mare, especially considerin’ who yer commandin’ officer is. Besides, should ya decide to settle this the old-fashioned way, it ain’t me that will be doin’ somethin’ about it. It’ll be that six-cylinder fella behind ya.”
Finding that the mountainous red workhorse had somehow silently come up behind him, Yellow took a hasty step away. “You colts had better watch your backs. Spades like you don’t get to talk to a Platinumite unicorn like that and get away with it.”
The red workhorse rolled his eyes. “Eeyup.”
Twilight acknowledged the mechanics with a haughty nod. “Thank you, gentlecolts. I will be sure to let the waiter know that your drinks are on me this evening.”
The caramel mechanic doffed his hat respectfully. “That’s mighty kind o’ ya, Miss…?”
“Radiant Dawn.”
“Mighty kind o’ ya, Miss Dawn,” he replied with a wink. “Big Six, we’d best return to our seats.”
Pinkie lifted her flat cap just enough to wink at the passing red workhorse. “Thanks for the save, Macky,” she whispered.
His muzzle turning a deeper shade of red, Macintosh only mouthed, “Eeyup,” in response.
Twilight smiled at her pink companion, bob-cut mane curled up to her flat cap, and took a sip of her wine. “Mac and Braeburn certainly are making themselves useful on this trip. If I couldn’t get,” and Twilight couldn’t help but giggle, “Yella, to leave peacefully, I would have had to either pretend to suddenly be attracted to him and agree to meet him in his room later just so he would leave, or levitate him back to his table.” Twilight tilted her head to the side with a thoughtful smile. “Or let you geld him. Either way, their attention would be on us, and sneaking the package out of here unnoticed would be much more difficult.”
“Don’t forget how fun it is to tease Macky.” Pinkie continued to hide her mischievous smile behind her coffee and under her cap.
Twilight rolled her eyes, and swirled her wine in her glass. “Pinkie, you’re incorrigible.”
Pinkie only smiled in return, and turned her gaze to the stage. The normally boisterous pony pensively sipped her coffee as her bob-cut slowly straightened back out. Worried for her friend, Twilight sipped her wine in turn, mulling over how best to phrase what she would say next. In her study of friendship, she had learned early and often that honesty brings the best results, so she decided to go with a direct approach.
“Pinkie, are you all right? I haven’t seen your mane this straight for this long since your surprise party. I thought that you had maybe managed to straighten it, somehow, but that doesn't seem to be the case.”
Pinkie took a moment for another sip of her coffee and kept her eyes on the stage. “Twilight, what’s my special talent?”
Taken aback, Twilight paused. “Parties. No pony throws a party as well as you do.”
Taking her eyes off of the stage, Pinkie smiled softly at her. “Sorry Twilight, but you’re wrong.” She cut off Twilight’s surprised reaction by raising her mug. “You know that I grew up in Fillydelphia’s industrial district, before Celestia made the factories change. It was horrible. No laughing, and no smiling. Just twelve hour shifts in the factories for everypony, stallion or colt, mare or filly. It was loud and cramped, and I saw other fillies chewed up by the machines.”
She paused to sip of her coffee, and hung her head, hesitating to go on. Then she looked up to see Twilight awkwardly trying to pat her hoof while keeping the cover of master and servant, and she smiled. “But after I saw Dashie’s rainboom, I started sharing the feeling it gave me with everypony I could find. Making them smile made me happy. Parties were just one way to do it. I look at that stage, and it makes me sad that she has to dance for these Meanie McGrabby-Hooves just to feed herself. It doesn’t matter how much of a Braggy McBoaster-Pants she was. I want to help get her out of here, and make her laugh. Not a mean laugh, but the kind of laugh we share every day.”
The lights dimmed, and the band tuned their instruments. “Don’t worry, Pinkie,” Twilight said with a determined grin. “I think you’ll get your chance soon. Remember: as soon as her act is done, I’ll tear down the security weave, and we’ll grab her in the confusion.”
Pinkie winked at her from under her flat cap. “You’re the big cheese in this joint, Twi. Ready when you are.”
With that, the lights dimmed further, and the band picked up in earnest. The drums laid down a spirited beat, joined by the thrumming of a double bass and the hum of the woodwinds. Lastly, the horns kicked in, lead to a crescendo by the wailing of a tenor sax, and the spotlights trained on the figure of a blue unicorn with a platinum mane confidently striding out from the curtains. A sheer white dress with a slit down the side showed everypony her cutie mark: a star-tipped wand crossed over a crescent moon.
“Fillies and Gentlecolts,” boomed a voice from the orchestra pit, silencing the band, “We now present to you the most beautiful flower adorning The Haughty Horn, Miss Trixie Lulamoon.” Rowdy cat calls, with a smattering of polite applause, met Trixie as she took the centre of the stage. The band struck a slow, bass heavy beat, and as the sound of the saxophone rose, she strutted confidently along the stage and began to sing.
“Love, makes me treat you, the way that I do. Gee baby, ain’t I good to you.” Whistles and professions of love contrasted with her silky voice and movements. “There’s nothing too good, for a colt that’s so true, gee baby, ain’t I good to you.” She stepped down from the stage and moved along the front row, posing for the admiring stallions and sweeping the seats with a sultry stare. She took a breath for her next line—and her eyes met Twilight’s from across the room.
“Twilight Sparkle!” Twixie shouted. “Celestia’s perfect little student, come to the heart of Unicornia to mock Trixie in her shame!”
The sergeant at the Platinumite table jumped right into action at hearing the name of Celestia’s right-hand mare and started pushing his stallions into action. Grumbling about overlooking such an obvious flaw in her plan, Twilight started pulling Pinkie towards the bar. The waiter serving Mac and Braeburn telekinetically took their knives and forks and aimed them at the two mares, but was interrupted by the sickening crunch of dinner-plate sized hooves crashing into his side and sending him to the ground.
“Ah’ll never get a good cup a’joe, rate we’re goin’,” Big Mac muttered in frustration as he and Braeburn cantered over to the girls.
All the while, Trixie continued to rage at Twilight. “Are you not amused? Laugh at what you see, a whore in a den of iniquity! Trixie is as low as she cou—” she was cut off by several Platinumite stallions roughly grabbing hold of her and dragging her towards the exit. “Unhand me, you ruffians! I am the Great and Powerful Trixie!” she roared, her anger pushed to even greater heights. Telekinetic magic tore apart any nearby furniture and sent the pieces flying at her assailants. The rest of the squad surrounded the would-be rescuers while they dove behind the bar for cover.
Twilight turned to her right and shouted, “Pinkie, Plan B!” Pinkie wasn’t there, though.
“Way ahead of you, Twi!” rang out a voice from the ceiling. Standing on the chandelier, hair a-curl and smile a mile wide, Pinkie pulled her goggles down over her eyes and a string of metal balls out of her jacket sleeve. Whipping them down into the crowd, she whooped, “Let’s get this party started!”
“Flash out!” hollered Twilight, as she conjured goggles and earmuffs over her own eyes and ears, and those of Mac, Braeburn, and Trixie. Five flashes of lightning and cracks of thunder rang out in rapid succession, disorienting the serving ponies and Platinumite thugs. Her own senses protected by Twilight’s magic, Trixie continued to furiously punish the goons who thought that whisking her away would be easy. Tables cracked, chairs shattered, and bones broke in the telekinetic storm raging around the rampaging unicorn.
A loud crack and an iridescent purple flash split the air, dropping Twilight behind Trixie as the chandelier crashed into the stage. Twilight threw her arms around her and a second burst of sound and purple light shocked the senses of the bruised and beaten thugs, further injured by the falling debris left without Trixie’s animating will. In a final pair of purple flashes, the unicorn fillies appeared behind the bar, where Mac and Braeburn grabbed hold of them and disappeared.
The group appeared in the air outside the club and fell roughly to the cobblestone. Twilight was on her feet immediately, and started pulling the disoriented showmare up onto hers. “We need to run, now!”
Hesitating as she was pulled along, Trixie looked back at the club. “What? Wait! What’s going on—and the mad one, Pinkie, Trixie thinks you called her? Aren’t you going to go back for her?”
Twilight couldn’t help but heartily laugh as she forced Trixie forward. “Why do you think I brought her along? Those ‘torpedoes’ don’t stand a chance!”
* * *
“Way ahead of you, Twi!” shouted Pinkie from her vantage point on the chandelier. Her hair a-curl and her smile a mile wide, Pinkie was in her element. It was time to make some ponies smile, and some mean ponies smile upside down. She pulled her goggles down onto her eyes and a string of metal balls out of her jacket sleeve. Whipping them down into the crowd, she whooped, “Let’s get this party started!”
Her favourite party favours exploded in a brilliant flash of light and sound. Protected by her goggles and earplugs, Pinkie couldn’t help but burst out laughing and dance about on the swaying chandelier in enjoyment. “I’m glad Trixie’s having fun!” she thought to herself on observing Twilight teleport into the enraged unicorn’s telekinetic storm. “Time to join them!”
With a quick kick, Pinkie tore the rear eyelet from the chandelier and sent it careening down to the stage, leaning over the leading edge and screaming a joyful, “Wheeeeee!” Twilight teleported Trixie away, and Pinkie leaped onto the stage and rolled into the curtains as the chandelier crashed behind her. Flames started licking at the woodwork and Pinkie dived into the orchestra pit. Drums, trumpets, and an especially large conductor were thrown into the air by the pink missle tearing through to the other end of the stage. Spotting the enslaved earth pony hiding behind the corner, Pinkie skidded to a halt with her face about an inch away from his.
“Hi! My name’s Pinkie! I’d stay and have some more fun with you, but which way are the stills?”
Robbed of the power of speech, the pony only nodded his head dumbly at the door beside the bar.
Pinkie gave the startled stallion a hug and patted the top of his head. “Thanks sweetie. You’ve got tonight hitting on all sixes!” With a wink and a smile, Pinkie bounced towards the bar. On her way, she grabbed the miraculously intact pot of coffee and a couple mugs from the back counter. She paused in the doorway and turned back to look at the stock-still earth pony, her playful smile replaced by a mischievous grin. “I’d ankle on out of here if I were you, fella.”
The encroaching flames on the stage, combined with Pinkie turning tail and bouncing out of sight, managed to bring the pony back to his senses. A look of confusion on his face, he reached into his mane and pulled out the conductor’s collar key. The bar-patrons who had managed to recover from the flash-bangs or Trixie’s savage beating were preoccupied with the burning stage. A look of sudden comprehension dawned on his face. “The performer’s entrance,” he whispered. With a quick twist of the key, his collar dropped off and he slipped behind the smoking curtains.
* * *
“Trust me, she’ll be all right,” Twilight called over to Trixie as they weaved through the hoof-traffic in the Trotston outskirts.
Trixie tossed her mane indifferently. “Trixie won’t worry then.” She cantered on for a moment, before her mask of indifference broke and she turned to look at Twilight indignantly. “Wait a minute! What were you doing there tonight, and why were those ruffians trying to carry Trixie away!?”
“Eyes front!” Twilight shouted in return, saving Trixie from barrelling into a cart crossing the road. “Into that alley!” Bringing up the rear, Mac and Braeburn slid into the alleyway behind them.
Twilight slowed to a trot next to Trixie. “We’re almost at the rendezvous. To make a long story short, the Platinum Council was planning on taking your special talent.”
“Wha—” Trixie made to reply, but was interrupted by a shuddering explosion from the direction they had come. “What was that!?”
Braeburn chuckled behind her. “Ah’d assume it were the stills. Like Twilight said, those Platinumite goons never stood a chance against Miss Pie.”
Trixie shook her head in irritation. “Okay, moving on from your pink friend’s insanity. What do you mean, ‘take my special talent’?” she asked. “How? More importantly, I’m just a showmare! An exceptionally talented, brilliant, and beautiful showmare, mind you, but a showmare nonetheless! What do they want with me?”
Twilight took a moment to answer, her eyebrow raised in appraisal and hesitation. “You are one of the most talented illusionists in Equestria today.” She groaned as Trixie’s self-satisfied flick of her mane confirmed her hesitation. “Those skills have military and clandestine applications which the Platinum Council would find very, very useful. As for how, I don’t know, but they’ve found a way. It leaves the donor pony an empty husk, and the recipient isn’t in much better shape, but they’ve found a way. They’ve even started trying to make super-soldiers by transferring more than one special talent to a single pony. They haven’t had much success, though. It seems most, if not all, of the test subjects don’t survive.”
Lacking any response to such a revelation, Trixie remained silent and trotted along with her rescuers. They soon came to the end of the alleys and exited out into the empty land between Trotston and the nearest woodlands. Twilight stopped a short ways into the fringe of the forest. “This is the rendezvous point, if we were split up. Now we wait for Pinkie.”
“Silly filly,” called out a cheery voice. “When has Pinkie Pie ever been late for a party?” The exuberant pony slipped out of the trees next to Trixie, pot of coffee and mugs on her back, and wrapped her foreleg around the unicorn’s shoulders. “Glad to be outta that gin joint, Trixie?”
Slightly put off by Pinkie’s sudden appearance and lack of personal space, Trixie leaned away from her. “Yes, quite. Thank you.”
Pinkie beamed an absurdly wide smile and started bouncing over to Big Mac, the pot of coffee strangely steady. “Not a problem!” she called back over her shoulder. “When we get back to Ponyville, I’ll have to throw you a, ‘Welcome Back, Welcome to the Team Trixie!’ party!” She sidled up next to the burly stallion and fluttered her eyelashes. “Care for a cup of joe, Macky?”
Mac’s muzzle once again turned a deeper shade of red. “Eeyup."
With a bump of her rump, Pinkie poured coffee into each of the mugs, passed one to Mac, and pushed him forward with a shoulder behind his harness, coffee pot still in place. She turned back and winked at the others. “The night’s still young ladies, and Macky owes me a dance for this coffee! There’s a swinging club just over the border. Let’s get a wiggle on!”
Twilight and Braeburn shared a quiet chuckle as Pinkie hurried the hesitant workhorse forward. Jogging off, Braeburn called back towards the fillies, “Better not let ‘em out of mah sight. Mac’ll be wantin’ a chaperone!”
Turning towards Twilight, Trixie’s jaw hung open. “Is she mad? Also, I’m on a team?”
Twilight laughed and motioned forwards with a bob of her head. “Maybe, and maybe, but we just managed to whisk you out of a Platinumite speakeasy in the middle of Unicornia completely unscathed. I feel like celebrating! Let’s do as Pinkie says and get a wiggle on.” Twilight cantered on to follow the others, but stopped and turned to wait for Trixie.
“What am I getting in to?” Trixie asked with a shake of her head. One step forward, and she was in deeper than she could have ever imagined.
