Aero Melody

by Kz Applejack

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 1922

A Steampunk-ish post-apocalyptic adventure story. Flying, character mentality changes, and a lot of other development to come.

Tesla Aero is a steam airship captain, running many dangerous shipments and V.I.P's around the modernized, and divided world of Equestria. But this time he gets a little more than he planned on. Conspiracy and corruption drive the conflict as Tesla and his recent V.I.P fight their way across the forbidden zone.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-02-04 14:50:02 UTC

Prologue (1)

Are you willing to work forty-eight hour long shifts? Are you willing to risk life and limb for a package you’ll never open? Are you willing to travel into or through the forbidden zone?

All of these are questions you get asked before becoming an air-courier. You get asked even more questions once you become a Steam Captain, and even more still, when you become a mercenary escort. How does one get to this point though, you might ask. Life commitment and perseverance is the answer. Steam Captain is one of the highest positions when it comes to modern aeronautics. When you man your own airship, licensed and recommended by not only other Captains, but by royals, then and only then, can you be considered a Captain. That being said though, you still have a boss. And mine wasn’t too fond of me. She was a highly decorated military combat captain during the time of war, and a very respected Captain outside of that. She always gave me the shitty end of the stick when it came to assignments. I got the simple courier missions, and always into the forbidden zone, never anything easy or safe. And that’s who was making my phone ring, horribly loud this early morning.

I roll over on my bed, groggy, vision blurry, and answer the phone. There’s a slightly awkward silence at first.

“Hello…?” I say.

“Tesla, it’s Brook Mist. Got an assignment for you.” I sigh and roll my eyes

“Brook, it’s my day off. I’m not taking an assignment.” There’s a flipping of papers on the other end of the phone.

“Tesla you don’t have a choice. We’ve got a high-roller who needs to get from east to west. You’re the only one I trust with this.” Sitting up in my bed, I prop myself against a pillow.

“So you’re giving me the dangerous job, again? This is a recurring theme Brook, I don’t get paid enough for all this.” Brook sighs on the other end.

“Yeah, I know I give you the dangerous jobs. But you’ll get paid well for this, you’ll be transporting one V.I.P, that’s it. It’ll be quick and painless, and you’ll get paid three times your normal amount. I’m asking you, please take this, I don’t have anybody else as good as you to do it.” Brook pleading, this was new. She’s never acted this way with me before.

“Ugh, fine alright… Who’s this V.I.P anyways? Why the hell would they need to get to the west coast?” Brook stammers for a moment.

“Well… I don’t actually know who the V.I.P is… I just know that they ran into some trouble here on the east coast, and need to get out of here.” A fleeing rich pony, that’s new. “You’ll take it though, right? Please?”

“Sure Brook… What’s the schedule then?” There’s more flipping of papers on the other end.

“Thank you Tesla, I owe you one… Need you at flight-wing thirteen in two hours, can you manage that?” Two hours to get halfway across the city, plenty of time.

“Sure, yeah I can get there in thirty minutes if I really wanted to. I’ll get suited up and head down there.” I roll off my bed, phone still in my hoof.

“I’ll see you here, the V.I.P apparently doesn’t have much baggage so it should be a quick flight for you, twelve hours at the most I think.” I chuckled a bit, twelve hours and quick don’t go in the same sentence together.

“Sure, quick twelve hours. Sounds about right. I’ll see you soon Brook.” And with that, I hang up the phone and rub my eyes, still drowsy.

Early mornings aren’t fun as it is, unexpected early mornings are even worse. I grab an apple and eat it quickly, downing a glass of water alongside it. Donning my flight suit, hat, and goggles, I then head out the front door of my house, closing and locking it as I step outside. While I climb onto my steam carriage I get to thinking about this mysterious V.I.P. Is it a mare? A stallion? A griffon? Whoever, or whatever it is, has a lot of money. A trip from east to west coast isn’t cheap, especially with the forbidden zone as active as it has been lately. Being woken up this early had better be worth it. I start my steam carriage and battle the morning traffic, already backed up on the roads. Silver, brass, copper and gold. Pipes, steam columns, gears and cogs. Airships and carriages. This sight would be a great way to show somebody the general feel of the west coast. The coast of steam-power.

Forty-five minutes later, I arrive at the Flight Wing Center, airship port for the city. Immaculately cleaned and polished bronze pillars extend into the sky, sunlight glinting off of them in blinding flashes. Atop the bronze pillars, gold and copper flight pads gleam in the early morning light. Dozens of airships of all sizes and types float above the pads, warships, cargo ships, transporter ships, small and fast mail ships. Their crews working frantically to moor, or detach from the docking pads. I park my carriage in a spot reserved for me, being a Captain does have it’s advantages. One of them being the reserved parking, right next to the cargo elevator to the top of the Wing Center. I step into the elevator, and click the button for the flight pad. A moment later I’m there, right in the middle of the airship docks. Whistles blowing, cogs and gears chugging, captains barking orders to their crews. A certain amount of haze lingers here, water vapor in the air from the steam. The tiny droplets reflecting light  to make circular rainbows off of every glimmer from metal, or the sun itself. My airship is moored on the far south pad, I could see it from the elevator. Large, older looking craft, armored hull, reinforced balloons, and powerful engines that I just upgraded three months ago. It can go up to thirty-eight knots, with a water capacity of over fifteen-hundred gallons. That’s a trip to the east coast, and half way back. It was an old warship, the words ‘Cloud Liberator’ written on the sides in white military style text. I start the short walk to the ship, Captains waving to me or shouting my name, saying hello along the way.

Brook is at the bottom of the catwalk to the ship, dressed in commanding officer apparel, dark green jumpsuit and aviator glasses. The jumpsuit partially hiding her coat color, which is a dark, plum purple. That and her orange and blonde mane whipping in the wind makes for quite the picture.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t make it Sparky.” Brook says with a soft laugh as I roll my eyes.

“I told you not to call me that, Brook. I’m here, where’s our V.I.P?” I re-adjust my balance as a strong gust of wind blows through.

“I found out that it’s a mare now, she should be here any minute now. Hey, again, thanks for taking this. I really don’t trust anybody else with this type of thing, this is a really big assignment as far as reputation and money goes.” She lifts her shades, revealing her green eyes.

“Surprised you trust me, seems like you’ve wanted me dead as of late, all those drop-offs in the forbidden zone. You know how dangerous that is right?”

“Yeah, I know, trust me I do. But the reason I do that is because I know you can handle yourself. I’ll give you some easy assignments after this, promise.” She grins after saying this, making it blatantly obvious that she’s not giving me any slack in the near future.

“Yeah, sure, easy assignments. I’ll be on the ship getting ready and checking the crew. You’ll help our mysterious mare with her luggage, right?”

“Of course. I’m not going to make you do everything.” she laughs again and drops her shades over her eyes. I walk on the large catwalk connecting the bridge and air-dock, then step down onto the deck of the Liberator with a thud.

My two stallion crew is standing idly by, as soon as I hit the deck, they scramble to check dials, gauges, and ropes.

“How are we looking? Good to go when ready?” I say as I walk over to the instrument panels. My first crew member, Quick Pace, speaks up.

“Yes sir, all gauges are good to go, pressures are right on the mark.” He taps a gauge and watches the needle rise, a smile coming to his face.

“Glad to hear it Pace. Line Drive, what about your end of things? Everything good?” I look to the second crew member.

“Of course sir, rigging is all stable, all lines safe and no frays.” My crew was  the stereotypical three stallion crew. A unicorn lineman, their magic makes it easy for them to knot ropes and tie them together. An earth-pony technician, they seemed to be better at reading the gauges than anybody else. And me, the pegasus Captain. Most ship’s lineups look like this, although usually with more crew. This was a big ship to have a three-pony crew on, considering it was military before. But having a small crew gives extra space below-deck.

Typically the extra space is occupied by a massive load of mail, but the entire below-deck space was empty this time around. We had just finished the last mail run the day before, the ship will fly a lot faster assuming the V.I.P doesn’t have 6,000 pounds of luggage, which is unlikely...I hope. The loud screech from a whistle alerts me to the presence of our V.I.P. Being the captain, I go back over onto the air-dock to greet our passenger. There’s a mare there with two bags, and an instrument case of some sort. She’s wearing a heavy jacket, has a lightish faintly gold and gray coat and a dark gray mane and tail. Her eyes are a shade of purple, and they have a shimmer of high class intelligence deeply embedded in them. Brooke is standing there talking to her, and sees me coming over the catwalk.

“And this will be your captain. Tesla Aero, he likes to be called Sparky.”

I shoot a deadly glare at Brook, who smiles and chuckles a bit, then I go over to the V.I.P and extend a hoof out to her.

“Yes, I will be the captain of this trip. Very nice to meet you, miss…?”

“Melody, Octavia Melody.” She replies quickly, then shakes my hoof. Her voice has a certain accent to it, and old Canterlot type accent. I immediately recognize the name however, she’s a famous cellist from Wingden, down the coast. But what’s she doing this far up our coast, and why is she crossing over to the west coast?

A few words are exchanged between Brook and Octavia, then I help her load her luggage onto the airship. She insisted on carrying the instrument case, so I loaded the two bags onto the ship and to the quarters she would be staying in. She’s following me close behind, and once I put the bags just inside the door she thanks me and enters the room, shutting the door quickly but softly behind her. I don’t believe she’s going to be out on deck much, if at all. I think back, Brook lied again, she didn’t help with the luggage.