Prologue: A Past
If you're going to listen to my life experiences -the exploits that have led me to this moment, in this place, with these people I call family- then perhaps I should start from the beginning, and tell you what it was like growing up in the 16th Stable...
I had been born as a Pegasus into a dull and bleak world that had never expanded past steel walls. At one point I had believed I would be the last of my kind. But I suppose it could have been worse. The family that bore me was loving, I had a friend, and all the time in the world. My mother, the Pegasus who had brought me into this world, would often teach me to fly within the enclosed spaces I had called home. An Earth Pony, my father by another title, had yearned to fly with us. He had been the one to set my world into view, reading me stories of our past, the grand adventures and exploits of Ponies prior.
As I grew up I made an unlikely friend. The daughter of our Stables Chief of Security, a Unicorn named Ash, after the color of her coat. We were the best of friends when we played together. I would hop onto her back and try to fly her around the halls, or she would make illusions with her magic, playing scenes of battles long passed. These were the joyous moments I would cherish far beyond my passing. Yet, like everything I had ever known, it could have been better.
While I grew up in safety and bliss, I yearned for the outside world, to see what we had hidden from for so long. All I had were the stories that my father had read to me, the ones such as the 'Elements of Harmony', and the adventures of a 'Daring Pony'. There had been one story that captivated me beyond any reason. The story of Nightmare Moon, or rather, the Princess Luna. Never have I been able to ignore that story, as though somewhere deep down I felt like I could make a connection with her, or perhaps I had just felt that she was hurting more than anypony else I knew.
The Ponies I grew up with have always been sound of mind, even in great disasters like that of the Sub-Level Malfunction. Few Ponies had been hurt badly when the Machinery on Sub-Level 2 exploded. I remember that day well, having been on my way to school with my mother when the Stable shook. Even though we had been flying I could see the walls shake and dust fall from the ceiling. A Pony whom we had flown over moments before had fallen over and was getting back up onto all fours.
Bevel, my mother, looked worriedly at the structure that housed her family. She grabbed a hold of my hoof and whisked me to the classroom door, opened it, and placed me inside. 'Stay here, you'll be safe.' Words that had never truly reached my ears as my mother flew off once more. The foalish curiosity that I bore had already taken hold of me, my mind and legs racing to know what had happened.
Three guesses as to what my mothers job was, and if you're not in the mood for games, she was a technician. One of the few within the Stable that actually knew, or had a talent, for repairing machines. Even though she could not wield tools with magic like Unicorns, my mother was capable of fixing broken down machines with ease. I had known that those machines could be dangerous, but I never knew the extent of that danger.
My fathers' stories had played through my mind as I rushed down corridors and halls. Ponies ran past me in either direction, some with frightened looks, others with mugs of determination. The yelling and call to arms that echoed around me helped set the scene as I rounded the corner, a Colt just brimming with curiosity, a grin set upon my face. I envisioned what dangers awaited me, what I would find at the end of my gallop. Down flights of stairs I went, deeper into the bowls of the 16th Stable.
Into the machinery I ran. Heat washed over me and flames licked at my hooves, Fireponies rushed to put out the roaring fire that threatened to engulf them. Smoke filled the air, but I was small enough to walk beneath the toxic fumes. Fear twanged within my heart, but it was a fear for others safety, and not my own. Water washed over me along with gruff cries from the Fireponies. I had been caught, but there were more pressing matters at hoof than that.
Ducking through machinery I escaped my would be captors and headed further into the depths of pistons and gears. I looked back and laughed gently, having evaded my pursuers, but I should have been looking forward. The grates at my hooves caved beneath me, and I fell into the darkness beneath. Tumbling, falling really, -or at least that is what it felt like-, down further and further into the unknown. Pain shot through me as I landed against steel. Bruised and wounded, in body and spirit, I got to my hooves and looked about me.
Shadows engulfed my surroundings, my only solace being a light in the distance, and the light from which I fell from above. As I could not climb back up to my perch before, I took the reasonable route, but stopped as a drop of crimson fell past my eye. Blood. I was bleeding from a cut along the top of my head, from a place where some of my mane had been. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. Wet, bleeding, and surrounded by darkness, I started to feel scared. The stories my father had read to me came to mind, and strengthened my resolve.
I took the lessons they taught me, and applied them, steeling myself for what lay ahead. Piercing the veil of darkness, I was frightened at what lay beyond, yet through it all I felt brave, like I could endure all that the world threw at me. Above and below I could hear gears grinding, flames licking at the walls, and the calls of Ponies drowned out by the prior. The fear that once held me ebbed with each step into the unknown, fading like the light behind me, and my courage growing like the light before me.
My skin itched and tingled, as though some unseen force was ruffling my coat. Small dust motes floated before me, and as I inhaled, they made me cough and sputter. The air tasted fowl. I felt worse as I neared the faint purple glow that came from the opening to the room below. Whatever was down there, I had to see it, no matter how I felt.
Passing a hoof over the grate, sliding it out of its place, I looked into the room below, my head swimming, my body burning. My grip on the edge of the opening slipped, and I fell once more, down into a room filled with strange machinery and that faint purple glow. I hit the ground like a doll, crumpled and tired. Looking about the room as best I could, I was met by a set of Ponies in strange uniforms, attire that covered them head to hoof.
With a leaden body, and heavy eyes, I rose to my hooves so that whatever befell me, I'd take it standing. I believe that had been in a story my father had read to me. Before me stood two figures, dressed in rubbery yellow with large domes for heads, and I stood before them, afraid but brave. They grasped me swiftly and I yelped, as fear took hold of me, and pain seared through my body. My cries soon fell silent as sleep overtook me.
I awoke after a week long slumber to find myself bandaged, laying beneath the covers of my bed, in the familiar territory of my room. Before I could counter it, I broke down where I lay, sobbing and afraid. The courage and bravery that had held me together had faded away, replaced by a torrent of emotions that seemed to only lead to one place, tears. They streamed down my face, falling to the blankets I lied beneath, rolling across the soft fabric until it accepted them. There had been no screams of terror, nothing but whimpers, shivers, and tears to give away my sorrow and relief.
Ponies from the Stable who had been close friends of my parents came to visit me, and see if I was alright. Of course, Ash was there too, but she had changed. Her once beautiful smile had now been replaced by an everlasting frown, something that I fear may have happened because of my accident. Ash no longer played with me, she stuck to her books, her training, and she would at times speak brutally about my childish behavior. Though I had not lost her physically the friend I once new was no more, except when, on the slightest occasion, I could get her to smile once more.
With the passing of time I grew. When I received my Pip-Buck and Cutie Mark, -a story for which would be better told at a later point-, I had been taller than most of my class. But not only did I grow in size, but in heart and mind. I learned to read, as everyone had, but I read more often than the rest of the Ponies. Stories, both fiction and non, were what I read, learning morals and the deeds of others, increasing the size of my diction, or as it were, my vocabulary.
Upon happenstance, I had found a book about the Two Sisters, Princesses Celestia and Luna. While old and decrepit, falling to pieces at the seems, it held knowledge that would be invaluable. Of course, you might ask, 'of what value does a book for Foals have?', and I would agree, for I did not rightly know myself. Within that book lay the one Pony whom I had felt like protecting, aside from my friend and family of course. I would never let harm come to anypony really, but those four were always at the top of my list.
If I am to be truthful with you, I did not believe that either Princess, Luna or Celestia, were still living to this day. Let alone watching over anypony, but I kept such thoughts to myself, so as to not dampen the spirits of others. It had been strange, growing up in the Stable as I had, not knowing what lay past the vaulted doors and cold walls. I was curious as to what lay beyond, but fearful of the trials I would face, an emotion which I did not like feeling. Fear.
Had Luna felt fear as her world crumbled around her, or had she just felt a sorrow so deep that nothing could pierce the veil around her heart? These thoughts plagued me and my dreams. I dreampt of the wicked mare of darkness, Nightmare Moon, and the terror she had wrought on the Ponies whom she had once protected. Within the chambers of this false Luna I would stand, holding my ground firmly, my eyes burning with anger and compassion.
I would look into the mirror that sat beside Nightmare Moon, and see Luna, sobbing somberly. She would shake herself from her stupor and glare at the Nightmare that stood before us. Lifting a hoof, she placed it against the mirror, and it shattered, her image standing in it's place. The wicked mare of darkness struck out with a hoof, but I intervened, lifting my wing to shield Luna. My armor glinting in the moonlight, blood dripping from my wounds, and a heavy grin like that of steel, sitting proudly across my mug.
While they had just been dreams, I did not question or deny them, even when Nightmare Moon triumphed over my efforts to save Luna from falling to darkness once more. No, I worked harder to protect Luna, my resolve strengthening with each battle. I would endure any pain and all suffering to keep her safe, to keep her legacy from being tarnished. She had already faced these trials before, and because of them, Luna had become stronger and gained friends along the way. I did not fear Nightmare Moon, I felt pity for her plight.
Eventually the dreams ceased. I no longer did battle against some greater evil, or a foe that seemed infallible. and no longer did I see Luna. Those battles made me strong in their own way, and I suppose that I no longer needed their tutelage, or the Princess's guidance. With time, I grew used to this, closing my eyes to sleep, and waking to find that I could not remember what I had dreamt of.
When It came time for me to choose a career that befitted my Cutie Mark, or what my special talent was, none came to mind. I could spin tales of fancy, like my father, who ran the radio and read books to the Colts and Fillies still in school. Broken machinery was easily remedied by my hoof as well, but there were no jobs that I felt truly required my expertise, whatever they may have been. Taking my place in the society built by the Ponies of my past, had seemed difficult at the time.
With great consideration on my part, and an acceptance decree from the council, I apprenticed under as many Ponies who would accept me. The terms they used to describe me were 'Overzealous' and 'Cheeky', but there was a term that my father had used, a set of words that I have used ever since. I liked to call myself a 'Jack-of-all-Trades'. While not completely competent in all that I did, I had enough training and practice to get things done properly, sometimes on the first try.
I learned to bandage wounds, stitch cuts, and keep areas from getting infected when I trained under our resident Doctor, an older Unicorn with a coat as white as the mask covering his mouth. From my mother I learned to repair machinery and, strangely enough, sew. From Ash, who had taken up arms as her Father's 'Right Forehoof', I learned to protect myself, with and without a weapon. Through these Ponies who had let me into their lives, I became strong,
From just a Foal, barely able to walk on all fours, let alone fly, I grew into a curious Colt, ready for wonder and excitement. As a Colt, I learned and grew more, building up my world further. Here I stand before you, a Stallion, but a Colt at heart, proud of his past, and ready for what the future may hold. My Cutie Mark sits on my flank, a testament to who I am, a wing guarding a six pointed crystal of gold. The teachings of Luna, and what darkness had hid in her heart, have made me who I am today.
It's nice to meet you, my name is and forever will be, Jack Reins. You may call me, the 'Lunar Knight'.....
Chapter 1: Steel on Steel
Chapter 1: Steel on Steel
'There is nothing outside these hallowed walls. Nothing but darkness.'
It was nighttime within the 16th Stable, or at least an iteration of the night that it had been meant to mimic. Cool air flowed from scores of small vents that lined the base of the stoic grey walls. They had endured so much in their time, generation upon generation of Ponies young and old, and yet they had never cracked, creaked, or complained in all those years. I rubbed a hoof against the cool grey wall that had kept me caged all my life. "If you could speak, what stories would you tell?" I had asked it, turning away to look further down the corridor.
Doors lined the walls, leading into the abodes of other families of Ponies, most of whom would not appreciate my waking them up at this hour. Not that I would do that of course. I let my hoof drop back into place on the grates beneath me with a satisfying creak. Gentle music played from my earpiece, a gift from my mother that never ceased to entertain me. Though I suppose that I am biased, since I'm easily entertained.
Walking down the grated hall, cool air billowing over my hooves and coat, I imagined what the night looked like outside. Would it be pitch black like all the Ponies had said, or would the moon sit high in the sky, overlooking the land as it had always? I'd thought this many times over, and through careful, yet obvious reasoning, I had concluded that the moon did shine in the night sky, as it always had. Of course, I could not give an absolute answer since the only way out of the Stable has been locked shut for over two hundred years, and I doubted the old steel would be able to move.
I stopped before a crossroads, looking ahead and to either side, noticing only that which had always been there. With a heavy sigh I took one step forward, but stopped. Staring back at me were the scribbling's of some Colt or Filly, what I imagined would be their interpretation of the outside world. With a smile I placed my hoof over the image and took a deep breath. Scribbles of artists, such as they were, have always been cherished.
There had never been many artistic Ponies within the 16th Stable. My father, Wax as he was called, wrote works of fiction, poetry, and sometimes lyrics. He had been the one to literate me, set the foundations for my view on the world, and give me guidance in the harshest times of my childhood. Of course he had a job in the Stable that would often keep him away from our family from time to time. Reading, it had been. All across the Stable you could hear the tales he had woven by hoof, such as the recording that played in my ear. One of the reasons Stable 16 had such sound minded Ponies, was because of him.
Removing my hoof without smearing any of the drawings colors, I turned to look down either hall once more. Thinking of family had brought to my attention something that I had been putting off for some time now. One swift movement and I was facing the corridor that lead right into the sub levels, towards that place I had ventured into as a Colt. I trotted forward, stoic in my choice, departing from the drawing of a Unicorn leaving their Stable.
It had been a year after my 'accident', before I ventured back down to the levels below. I had decided to wander back through the Stable down to the machine room where my mother worked, a good two floors above that horrid room. She had been floating above steel contraptions that hissed up at her, the beat of her wings in tune with the music that played in her workspace, unperturbed by the sounds and machines below. At the bottom of the steps I sat, watching her float about, as if strung to the roof, until she looked my way and beckoned for me.
I got up and walked forward a few paces before stopping in front of a hissing machine. The monstrosity towered above me menacingly. At first I did not know what to think, so I hid my face behind my hooves, in an attempt to escape reality, but my mother was there to guide me. She picked me up and brought me further into the machines, holding me close to her warm body. Her coat was comforting at the time.
When she set me down, a smile had crept across her face, one filled with compassion and understanding. Before her I stood, a frightened Colt, tears welling up in my shifting eyes. Grabbing a wrench from her collection that lay against the wall, she began to teach me about the machines she had worked on all her life. Generators, filtration systems, and an assortment of gears passed before my eyes, memories of all that I had learned, but they faded as I reached my destination.
The corridor halted before a metal door, tall and unyielding, yet comforting. With a sigh I pressed the button that ordered a mechanism to release the doors lock. Through the frame I could hear gentle grinding of gears before the door whisked open, the lower half sliding beneath the floor, the upper receding to the roof above. Before the steel trap could shut on me I passed through it's gaping maw into the stairwell beyond.
At first, there was darkness. The dimmed lights that lined the roof of the stairwell gave little comfort in the dark, but I did not fear that, not after all those nights battling the darkness in my dreams. Placing one hoof in front of the other I traversed the abyss, brave and unwavering. I could not help but worry about what might face me in the levels below. Smoke filled my mind and fire sprung up about me, but I did not falter at the flames that licked my side.
Even those memories did not corrupt the calm exterior I held. They did not frighten me personally, but the little Colt that had perched himself in the back of my head wailed in terror. I comforted him, replacing thoughts of fire and darkness with those of my family, the memories of playing with Ash. His tears subsided, as did the fear that had once gripped him.
That image of myself, young and afraid, had always been there, he was a piece of my childhood that I had yet to let go of; he was my Colt at heart. The Colt had been there as I grew up, facing down beast after beast in my dreams, and I doubted that he would ever leave, but that was fine by me. In my times of worry, the Colt had been there to cheer me up, to give me a different point of view. I suppose you could call him my conscience since I had no name for him, other than my past.
Memories fade once more as I step into a vast room filled to the brim with machinery. I could peer over all of it, unlike when I was young, and I could see all that my mother had once worked on. Here and there were jets of steam, puffs of vapor that accosted the air. The grinding of gears pierced even the tranquility of my earpiece, shattering the music into unintelligible noise. Removing my mothers gift from my ear I took in a wide berth of my surroundings, and the old Pony that lay on his cot, deep in slumber.
It had been a long time since I had set hoof on this level, the one that lay below my mother's, and just above that machine that rumbled below. I had learned after some digging, studying, and a regrettable plea to the Council, that the machine just beneath my hooves was our Stables reactor. While not as safe as it had once been, that reactor could still power Stable 16, albeit not entirely.
The Pony that lay at the back of the machines slept soundly, even with all the noise that accosted him. His name was... Well, I can't recall his name. To tell you the truth, I'm not good at remembering names, and I only ever recalled him by the color of his coat. It was a light blue-grey. Somehow it had managed to remind me of how he spoke, and his words ushered forth from memory I had long forgotten.
"There is nothing out there Colt." The older Pony had answered. "Nothing but shadows and darkness after all." He sat in front of a machine that had gone silent. After all it's years of hard labor it had stopped working, just like that. Black smoke billowed from an opened vent atop the machine. "Now you listen here," The old Pony had continued, "We live in the Stable because the world outside is inhospitable, uninhabitable, we can't live out there."
With a swift strike from his hoof and a wrench, the machine woke from it's slumber, roaring back to life. "Sometimes it takes some tough love to get things done." He looked down at me with a stern smile, an expression I could not understand. Concluding our meeting by rubbing my head and ruining my mane, he returned to his work, and the memory in turn fades back to the recesses of my mind.
Machines about me purred, growled, and roared, releasing jets of steam as if they were living and breathing beasts. Their cries did not unnerve me like they had when I was younger. I understood them and how frightening they could be. Passing through jets of steam, which ruffled my uniform and made me sweat, I made my way back to the sleeping Pony. He lay where he was, his side rising and falling with each breath. It seemed as though he was dreaming peacefully, as a smile had crept upon his face.
I reached beside him and plucked a wrench gently from where it nestled within his toolbox, gripping it soundly between my teeth. The steel tasted oily as my tongue ran over it, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. With one nod to the old Pony I set myself to work. My tool caressed the machines as I tightened and loosened nuts. Oil poured over gears, lubricating them for the long day ahead, and valves turned to lower pressure, or raise it as needed.
Training under my mother, and to a lesser extent the Pony who slept on his cot, had taught me that machines were living. Not in the sense that they actually were intelligent, but in the sense that they breathed, moved, and to a lesser extent spoke. Gears, belts, and pistons made up the vital organs that allowed these monstrous beasts to live as they did, working tirelessly day in and day out. They were stoical and strong, but sometimes even they needed repairs.
My hoof passed over a dead machine, one that I suspected had lost it's spark for some time. There was no remorse for it's inevitable death, because I knew it had worked hard and died as it wanted. Whether my flights of fancy, -as they were just that-, had been true I could not tell. Sometimes it was that small voice in my head going over stories, and yet at other times it was me who read them from thought.
Steam hissed beside me, waking me from my thoughts, and I let fall the wrench clenched in my teeth. It fell and clattered across the floor, skidding to a grinding halt. There was that sound again, I had heard it time and time again, yet the words to explain it have always escaped me. Where it lay, the wrench teetered on the edge of falling into the dark abyss below.
Gentle steps forward, hushed by the veil of machinery around me and the concentration I held, I walked forward, keeping low to the grated floor. If I were to misstep the wrench would fall and clatter, get jammed between gears, or perhaps nick a belt. I watched as the metal tilted more towards it's fall.
Unfurling my wings and extending them I let fall the feathered appendages into one beat, lifting me off of the grates, and sending me flying towards my goal. The wrench slipped off the edge just as I reached it. My hooves sank into the abyss and gripped for anything they could touch. I could feel it, the cool steel between them as I reeled in my catch.
Before my eyes I held the wrench, the dull steel shining between my hooves. As my muzzle crept into a smile at my accomplishment, the wrench escaped my grip, the oil that I had tasted before foiling my save. I tried to reach it as it fell, but I only managed to send it tumbling faster into the unknown. It banged, clanged, and clanked against walls and machines before subsiding on the ground beneath. While not as far a drop as I had remembered when I was young, it was still quite a ways down.
The old Pony turned in his cot and yawned. Something gripped at my heart, a feeling I had not felt in some time, and I panicked. My body moved of it's own accord, unfurling it's wings. Within a few seconds I had taken flight up the stairs I had come from, back to the door I had entered the stairwell at. It had happened so fast.
My heart beat swiftly, and I clutched my chest in wonder. "Why am I so afraid?" I had asked myself. The little Colt in my head shook his own, his mane shifting side to side. He had no answer for what I feared, nor did I. Behind me lay the stairs, beyond them the machines, and within the machines sleeping, was that old Pony. Nothing in there would have harmed me, yet a sense of fear had taken hold.
Deep breaths calmed my heart, and cleared my mind, for the most part. My hoof found it's way to the door panel, pressed against the familiar button. Gears sounded and the door repeated the action that had let me in. In return I did the same, leaving the stairwell and all that lay beyond. It closed shut once more barring my path back, and somehow lifting the weight from my chest.
I stepped into the corridor, cool air buffeting me gently, quiet meeting my ears. My mother's gift hung against the side of my Pip-Buck, an old computer attached to my foreleg. The little machine had been there since I was a young Colt, or rather it had been there since I had my Cutie Mark. It hung where it was, a white mass against my red coat. Truth be told, I had never figured out how to properly operate the thing; I only knew how to tune in to the Stable's radio, and listen to recordings.
With an easy movement I sat where I was and lifted the machine to meet my gaze. The white seemed stark against the grey backdrop, but I paid it no mind. The system came alive as a purple haze filled the screen, flickered, and formed a shape. On the screen was the Stable Colt, or at least a still image of a pony that smiled back at me. He was there to remind me that my body was in good condition currently, as if I hadn't known that already.
Bringing up my other hoof I flipped through the channels, moving from what was on my person, -my inventory as I had marked it-, to data where a map of the Stable met my eyes. I had not seen that tab before, but it did not stop me from searching for what I had been looking for. Passing over the map and it's contents I flipped the channel to the Stations, specifically the Stable's Station, and turned it off.
The recordings that once whispered from my earpiece now fell silent, and with their passing the night became still. Pure and unaltered silence is what I heard, or rather didn't hear. Of course the vents still ushered forth their air, but I could just imagine that as the breeze, and the dimly lit lights would be a variation of the moon's light. Still, I could not help but wonder about the night outside.
There was a promise that I had made, one to Luna, that I would look over her nights in her absence. Being cooped up within the confines of the stable had left me with little room to fulfill my promise to the Princess. I could not do as I wished, and protect all who lived beneath her moon.
Closing my eyes I lifted my mug to the ceiling above and envisioned the stars, the moon, and clouds that marred the priors beauty. "Luna?" I asked softly, hoping to find solace in my words. "Relinquish me from my prison. Let me travel the waking world, the nights that you once protected, so that I may do as you once did." My eyes opened to meet the cool grey of the corridors roof. There was a doubt in my mind that my wish had been heard, but I had to ask, for my sake.
Gentle yellow lights caught my attention as they spun within their glass casings, swathing their light over the grey, turning it a sickly color. A siren, quiet at first, slowly began to crescendo and blare through the corridor. Memories flashed swiftly through my mind, the sirens from the Sub-Level Malfunction came to me, and I worried that my blunder had caused another disaster.
I turned to go through the mechanized door once more but stopped. These sirens were not the same as those I had heard before. What blared out from the speakers now were of a different nature and meaning. My thoughts quickly formed and I placed my earpiece back in it's rightful place against my ear, turning on once more the Stable's Station. A message, already halfway through, played into my ear.
"-Stable door. I repeat, all available personnel to the Stable door. Bring ordnance from Storage Container Three. I repeat-." While the message played I had followed it's instructions, ignoring the sirens and all that they had encompassed. The Stable door was most likely being opened, and I doubted we were ready for what lay outside.
I opened the door to my housing, and it whisked open just in time for me to get through. There was little to note about my 'home' as it were. Stars lined the ceiling, circling around the globe that would be my moon. Books lined my shelves, along with trinkets, bits and bobs, and a few toys from when I was young. My bed was like any other, yet it had been in disarray, as I never made it proper.
On it lay my white coat, and beside it on a shelf sat my holster and blade, all of which had been in good condition. I grabbed my items, sliding on my coat, giving me some protection aside from my Stable barding, as it were. My holster I strapped against my foreleg, just above my Pip-Buck. Within it I placed my blade, the serrated edge gliding into place.
Looking about my room once more I turned to the door, and nodded to myself, bringing up my resolve. It was now or never, and I wasn't going to miss this opportunity. My body moved of my own accord, jetting out the door into the hall. I turned and grinned, if the Stable door was truly being opened, now would be my only chance to escape. Whatever lay outside, I would meet it at face, and I would not falter. "Let's go." I called into the corridor before me.
Unfurling my wings I let loose a laugh and rose into the air. "Now's the time, and I'm going to take what I can." My words followed behind me as I flew through the Stable, following routes I had gone through before. Other Ponies in guard barding rushed after me. Unicorns carried crates, followed closely behind by Earth Ponies who carried a varied arrangement of firearms. Whatever the Pony, they were ready for awaited them at our Stable's door.
With each beat of my wings I enclosed the space between me and what I longed for all these years. My freedom was before me, and I wasn't going to let it slip through my teeth. I furrowed my brow and grinned harder, letting out a hardy laugh for all to hear. "This is it!" I called out, not caring who might hear my voice. "Whatever we may face, let us be steadfast and brave. This is our home, and we will not relinquish it to those who do not belong. Be ready for battle, be ready to die for those we love! We are not going to give up the place where we have lived our lives, where our young will live theirs!"
I never said I wasn't one to bolster the ranks, nor did I say that I wasn't dramatic, but I was amped at what lay ahead. In all honesty, I'm not one to lead others. I've only ever wanted to be there to help them, but if I must, I would gladly take the reins and guide them to glory. My head shook fiercely as I tried to ignore stories that came to mind, now wasn't the time to fantasize, I had to be calm and take action.
The corridor came to an opening, and before me it opened up into a vast chamber where the Stable door sat. It looked like an old cog, sitting against a steel frame, marred by the years. I took my place amongst the Guard who had managed to beat me here. They sat before great machines, turrets, flamethrowers, and the like. Things that I had suspected had come from the Stables Storage Containers.
At the front of the group, looking over the new weapons and their holders, was Ash in her Barding, frowning. "Check the ordnance, make sure it is ready to be operated properly, engage safety measures while working on these instruments, I don't want to lose anypony today." She commanded them in her father's stead. It seemed that he was running late, something that was rather odd of him.
My hooves clopping against the floor caught Ash's attention, as though she somehow knew that they had been my steps ringing out, or perhaps she had been waiting for others. She looked up to me, still frowning, and spoke sternly. "I thought that was you, we could hear you calling from the corridor. You and your childish speeches." She picked up a gun off of the floor, her magic engulfing the pistol with a faint green glow that mixed with the flashing yellow. "Take this, if anything goes wrong, I need you to take command."
In protest I opened my mouth, only to have the gun shoved into it. "Do you understand?" She had asked sternly, and in reply I nodded. I spat the gun out of my mouth, letting it fall between my hooves. Ten millimeter pistol, I released the clip from it's home and counted the rounds. Seven.
Looking up from the gun in my hooves I asked Ash, "Got any spare rounds, or is this enough for now?" She looked away when she answered, as though my question didn't actually matter. "You get what you need. Six for the enemy, one for yourself, if need be." Her answer had been grim, but she was always prepared for the worst. Falling in such a way was not honorable, but she did not care about that. No, I believe she would not want to see anyone suffer, and that would be the fastest option in any battle.
Ash stalked off to help another Pony properly load his weapon, a point thirty-two pistol. My hoof flipped over my own clip and inserted it back into the weapon I held, a gentle click meeting my ears. I made sure the safety was in place before I stuffed the gun into my holster, beside my serrated blade, and followed my friend. "How much longer until they open the door?" I asked quietly.
She stopped walking and sighed calmly before rounding about on me. "At this time that information is incalculable and unclear, as we do not know if what is out there even knows what sits before them." Her words came swiftly and precisely, denying any and all information in case she was overheard. "What or whomever awaits us out there may be inhospitable, so we must be wary and ready to strike at a moments notice. I would like it if you would be ready for the same."
I had known she thought of me as childish, but I had never fathomed the extent of those prospects. My head nodded of it's own accord, leaving Ash to help those who had needed it. Turning away from her I bumped into something, and as I turned to looked down a squeaky voice answered in reply. "Hey, watch where you're going mister."
Before me sat a Colt, the color of his coat a deep forest green, his name, something or another. He looked up at me indignantly and said, "Tell Burrow that you are sorry." Ah yes, that had been his name, or rather the nickname that he had taken upon himself. Burrow was an Earth Pony, a little one at that, but all the more proud of his heritage. I nodded to him and answered, "I'm sorry Burrow, but what are you doing here?" Taking a more encompassing look of my little friend I noticed that he wore barding, or rather the costume he had worn on Nightmare Night last year. It was made to look like the Guards barding, but I doubted it provided the same defense.
He looked about and ushered me a hush, one that I took as he wasn't supposed to be here, and it confounded me that he had yet to be found out by somepony. "Keep your voice down, I don't want to get in trouble Jack." Worry seemed to grow across his face, as if getting caught would be the worst to befall him, but he was young, and I could understand that he didn't comprehend the situation. He only wanted to help, but I couldn't let him be here, where he might get hurt.
"Burrow." I whispered to him, bending over slightly so he could hear me. He stopped looking around and turned his gaze up to me. "I need you to go protect my family, can you do that for me?" A questioning glance flashed across his face, but it did not last. The egotistical Colt looked to the side and asked, "And what's in it for Burrow?" As though I would give him something in return.
My head shook and I let loose a gentle sigh before staring down the Colt once more. "Listen, take care of them and you can have my snack cakes for a week." His lips pursed and a questioning look overcame his eyes. "Fine," I said giving in, "You can have them for a month." Burrow smiled and squeaked at the prospect of so many snack cakes, before rushing to do as he was told. He was gone, and while I would miss having snack cakes, I could endure my loss so long as he'd be alright.
Something hit my back, and I turned swiftly to meet the Pony who had been having trouble loading his gun before. "Thank you." He said to me, and I returned his words with a questioning glance. "Thank you for sending my son away. I did not want him here, but I could not ruin his dreams of seeing what lay outside. What could I do? Thank you Jack." I felt sorry for the Pony, his coat resembling his son's, or rather the other way around.
"You could have left him home," I answered, "and when all was said and done, no matter what would have happened, he would be safe." My words seemed to hit the Pony, as though he had already thought of what I had said. Indeed he had, as he answered I knew what he was going to say. "But what would he see me as after that?" It was a sad thought, having your own flesh and blood look at you as though they did not know you. I had seen it when older Ponies began to lose themselves, and forget those whom they once adored and sang songs to.
"There is always a way to keep those you love from harm without losing them, but would you not want to keep him safe no matter how he may see you?" Again my words struck the father. Whomever had said that words could do no harm, may have been wrong. The green Pony shivered before me, either in rage or sadness I could not tell. He let out a deep sigh and looked to me. "Thank you." It was all he said as he moved past me to the end of the group, where he checked his gun over.
It had taken me a bit of time to notice that a good deal of the Ponies that lay about me did not wear the Guard's barding, but rather their own Stable uniform, the number sixteen emblazoned across their backs. These were fathers, mothers, and the occasional Colt who had already received their Pip-Buck.
They were not trained for battle, or what may lay outside our door, nor was I or any other for that matter. We were a battalion with no training, and little knowledge of what awaited us outside our home, our prison. Here we will make our stand, facing whatever may come, to protect those we loved. I would give my life for these Ponies, those whom I had promised to protect during the night.
The lights above flickered softly above before plunging the world into darkness. If this were a horror story, now would be the time that the monster would strike it's first victim. I looked about the room, doubting that a monster would be hiding amongst us in the atrium, but I did not over look what panic may ensue. A floodlight whirred to life and a beam of holy light pierced the veil of darkness that enshrouded us.
A machine that had been held above by struts of metal shifted in place, and began to lower itself towards the door. The Overmare's voice sounded from my earpiece. "They are opening the door, be prepared for what may come. If we must, we will give our lives to protect our home." Above me two voices rang out, one after the other, completing their sentences.
"Hold your ground," Our second Overmare started, "Protect those we love." The Overstallion finished. In unison they read out the creed of our Stable. "Our walls are strong, we are strong, and together we have lived herein, unwavering and unyielding to the world outside. Face those who may bring us harm with bravery befitting the Ponies of our past with nary a doubt." I and the Ponies about me called out in unison, sounding off like a great army, ready for battle. "For the 16th Stable!"
If ever a time I was proud to be cooped up, it would be beside these Ponies, whom I had protected every night, whether they knew it or not. The smile I had once held stretched across my muzzle, and, as I noticed, others began to smile as well. We were ready to die to protect all who lived within this Stable, all Ponies who had called this place their home. I was willing to fall that day, but not without bringing whatever lay outside with me.
I pushed past Ponies, taking my place at the front of the herd, next to Ash, and the father from before. Before us the massive door, outlined in the golden ray of warning lights, and behind it, the unknown. "How ironic would it be if I fell here?" I had asked myself aloud, chuckling after the question made it's way through my mind. Those about me started to giggle, chuckle, and occasionally laugh as well. "Nothing like laughing in the face of death."
The great mechanism overhead connected with the door, spinning the gears inside with great effort. That sound reemerged within my thoughts, and it finally came to me. What I had heard in the door, as the wrench fell, and now as the Stable began to open, was the sound of grinding, objects rubbing against one another. In the past and now, I heard the sound of steel meeting steel, befitting that of the battle to come.
"Ready!" Ash called to the Ponies behind her, her voice echoing through the chamber. She thrust a hoof forward, and all about me ponies raised their weapons, taking aim at the Stable door. Her own rifle floated beside her, a green glow holding it in place. The light from other Unicorns magic flowed about me as they raised their own weapons. I doubted everypony knew how to use the tools they were given, and I worried that one of them might misfire.
The thought left my mind as the mechanism released it's grip on the Stable door and returned to it's position above. After two hundred years the door to Stable 16 was being opened, and I was there to witness it. I pulled my pistol from it's holster, clamping down on it with my teeth, wrapping my tongue around the trigger. Seven bullets, all of them for the enemy, and a blade for when I run out.
Steel ground into steel as the Stable door rolled out of the way, letting in a ray of light, and grumbled cries. We stood our ground, flamethrowers, machine guns, pistols, sledgehammers, and even the occasional bat or two, all aimed towards the outside world. The cries grew in volume until they became intelligible. "Hello?" It sounded like a Mare's voice, a bit deep and gruff, but a Mare's nonetheless. "Residents of Stable 16, we mean you no harm. We represent a contingent of the AppleJack's Rangers. We come in peace."
Foot Note: *Level-Up*
New Perk: *Colt at Heart*- You never lost your imagination when you grew up, and as such you tend to fantasize and exaggerate. Your ability to connect with the young Colt within helps you talk to the younger generation. (New speaking options with Fillies and Colts)
New Perk: *Mamma's Colt*- Taking after your mother you learned to fix up old machines, gear, and weapons. Strangely enough, you also learned how to sew. (Repairing items is easier for you)
New Perk: *Jack of all Trades*- Others would have called you overzealous, but that didn't matter to you. You trained under all who would apprentice you, and you learned much under their tutelage. Because of this you can make connections others might overlook. (Minor increase to all abilities)
