The glow of the first rays of the sun had begun to crest the mountains outside of Fillydelphia, bringing with it a gentle breeze and the smell of smoke to the senses of the aging earth pony. Setting high above the city this time of morning reminded her of days past, days before her mane had begun to gray from the rich crimson and maroon of her younger years. She sighed and gazed out on the clouds that were being set aflame by the rising sun. Sometimes she wondered if Celestia had some issue with clouds, maybe some silent vanity against things that blocked the light of her sun from the ponies of her lands. Though such thoughts she knew were simply the conjecture of the whimsical waking dreams of her rather creative mind. She had been blessed with the cutie mark of an artist, bearing the pencil and brush crossed over a unfurled scroll.
Her ears perked slightly as she heard hoof falls on the deck behind her.
“uh...Captain Brink, um...ma'am, er sir...uh..” a young adult unicorn buck hesitantly uttered as he approached.
She smiled and chuckled a little before replying as she pressed her glasses back into their proper place, “It's just Captain, or Capt for that matter if ya don't particularly feel like saying all of it.”
“um...ok...Captain,” he answered with continued hesitation but subtle acceptance of the level of informality, “everything is loaded, we are ready to cast off at your order.”
She took one last look at the sky as the colors became the norm of day, and with a smile she placed and adjusted the worn and battered captains hat on her head before turning to the buck, giving his smaller form the once over and noting the cutie mark of a pen and book.
“Paper Scraps, right?” she asked as she stepped towards him.
“Yes, uh..Captain.”
“You're new on the Princess's Revenge? The log keeper right?”
“Yes, Captain,” he seemed to be growing a little more comfortable and perhaps even a little bolder.
“Relax kid,” she said as she took a look over the deck of the Princess's Revenge, which for her age and the scars that were so deep and old that there wasn't enough paint in Equestria to cover them, was still one of the finest airships ever built. There was a sense of pride in her heart every time she looked over the ship, from fine woodwork and the half cobbled together steam assemblies, the freshly patched balloon above them that kept them in the air and the crew that worked on the deck with final preparations. Sure she was only doing merchant runs these days, but that didn't make the ship anything less.
“So what made you join up?” she asked as she began to feel he might be taking the silence uncomfortably.
“I...uh...don't really know,” he replied as he diverted his gaze to side and rubbed the back of his head with a hoof.
“Fair enough answer as any, but knowing what I know about ponies, I doubt your passion is keeping records,” she smirked coyly.
“I...uh...I'm a writer...I guess I took the job to get some inspiration or something....” he seemed uncomfortable with his answer.
Brink smiled and stepped closer, placing a hoof on his shoulder and looking him in the eye, “now that is a much better reason and believe it or not, that is sort of how I ended up here on the Princess's Revenge as well, I'm an artist and my art just sort of lead me here.”
His brows raised in interest.
“Every author I ever met that was any good at writing stories, always seemed to appreciate reading or hearing a good story just as much as they loved writing them.”
Paper Scrap nodded.
“It's a long flight from here to the Crystal Empire, if you are interested, I am feeling all nostalgic and in one of those story telling moods if you're interested in hearing the ramblings of an old mare,” she smiled and began walking towards the helm.
He nodded, “yes Captain!” he said eagerly.
She stepped behind the wheel and lever controls and popped the cap to the communication pipe, “all hands, prepare for cast off.”
There were a series of replies from the com pipes confirming her orders as she pressed a few levers into positions, giving the balloon more heat and lift while starting the propeller arrays on the sides to slowly build up speed.
She turned to Paper Scrap while taking the wheel, “alright kid, a long time ago, there was an earth pony that dreamed of being a Pegasus and a unicorn that wished she could have wings too, so they could fly high above the clouds and forget about their lives on the ground...”
“Over the clouds, I see the sky, like a never ending ocean....” The ghostly white and silver unicorn mare sang softly as she watched the clouds drift by overhead. Her blue eyes and large round glasses reflected the sky as she smiled and hummed the tune.
“You're getting better, Steam Pipe,” a familiar shadow said as it moved to blocked the view, “maybe you should think about singing instead of wrench pulling.”
The pale unicorn sighed as she got up and shook her mane and adjusted her patchwork leather coat, “I do find myself rather torn between my two passions, yet I cannot ignore the fact that I have a highly marketable and an innate capability with understanding steam mechanics.”
The sound of the clock tower of Fillydelphia chimed its ten am tones as Steam Pipe gave one last long look at the sky, following a raven as it flew overhead.
“Well dear Brink, I believe it is time for us to be getting back to work, father would like to have this custom order completed this evening,” Steam Pipe said with a smile as she looked at the crimson haired earth mare. Brink smiled back as she adjusted the worn bowlers hat and smeared some grease across her muzzle, adding to the fading and fresh smears of paint that dotted her buckskin coat and the white button up shirt she wore with the sleeves rolled up.
The pair walked across the roof top landing and into the spiral staircase that took them down through four story building, the top two floors were the Steam family's home, which was at the moment just Steam Pipe and her father Steam Valve with the addition of Brink who had been more or less adopted when the pair were young enough to not even have their cutie marks yet. The spiral staircase stopped on an observation landing that had a number of communication pipes and control levers for the various material moving automations that were used in the workshop that took up the ground and second floors of the building, as well as the renovations to include the basement level. The walls were crowded by large tools and presses, clockwork and hydraulic arms and cranes, as well as a few unfinished pieces that were either discarded or waiting to be finished.
“Confounded thing!” they heard a voice call up as they saw a mass puff of smoke and the screeching of brass gears stripping themselves, drawing them both quickly to look over the railing as the aged gray unicorn stallion stepped back, trying to reach with his telekinesis for a rag to wipe his oil covered face and glasses clean. The assembly of one of the larger press tools had blown an oil line and stripped its gears, turning the center of the workshop into a splatter of black.
“You alright, Dad?” Steam Pipe called out as she trotted quickly down the stairs.
“Huh? Oh yes dear, just seemed to need a decent bath now,” he was wiping his glasses clean after he got as much off of his face, leaving him a dark oily charcoal color.
Steam Pipe levitated her saddlebags onto herself and adjusted the holding strap before pulling out a wrench and wrenching off the fittings that had broken, “Dad, I told you to stop buying fittings from Heavy Press, while he might know a thing or two about selling tools, he clearly can't tell the difference between a high pressure fitting and a structurally faulty piece of brass that looks like a fitting.”
“Easy dear, I understand, but I just can't bring myself to take my business elsewhere, his father helped me build most of this and...”
“I know...I'm not asking you to stop buying everything from him, but please, I'll pick up new fittings from Josie's.” she cut him off with a respectful sigh as she screwed in a new fitting from a box high that was settled on a forty foot tall set of shelves.
Brink walked up, handing the stallion a clean rag, “so what else do we have to get done on this thing?” she asked as she looked over the oil coated brass object that sat, still clenched loosely by the press as Steam Pipe finished fixing the armature.
“Well....” he said as he stepped up as his daughter moved the press away so that she could fill it with more hydraulic oil, “I suppose just a nice steam bath, and then as soon as you get the engraving done we can box and you two can take it on over to the docks, but I suppose I should tell you that a telegram came today asking if we could hand deliver it to the Crystal Empire.”
“Huh? Hand deliver....” Brink's eyebrow was raised as she looked at the gray stallion,”you mean we get to go to the Crystal Empire?” the last bit was uttered with a soft squeal of joy.
Valve Smiled and nickered as he nodded, “yes, though I'm afraid it will be a short visit, I'll need you both back soon....”
His words were cut off the by the hopping of Brink which was shortly joined by Steam Pipe as they chanted, “Crystal Empire,” over and over again.
