To The Skies!

by Music within us

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Anthro, Romance, Second Person, Comedy, Adventure
Length: 2054

A story where ponies take to the skies in an airship and save Canterlot

Your name is Dirty Pistons. You've been living your life in fear of the notorious sky pirates known as 'Of Cogs and Guns' and for good reason. They ruled the skies of Canterlot for so long they were a thing since the day you were born. But one day, you meet a rambunctious mare named Clear Skies, and you both make a vow to become just as ntorious as the aforementioned sky pirates.

Inspired by the following blog:

http://www.fimfiction.net/blog/618275/to-the-skies

Editing done by Midnight Musashy

Warning: Contains [spoiler]blood and violence, M/F sex, and strong language[/spoiler]
[spoiler]Oh! And alcohol! :3[/spoiler]

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-04-14 19:20:52 UTC

Scary Beginnings...

The night was young, and the only sound to be heard was the crickets chirping, the warbling sound piercing through the silence in a soft, easy manner. The Canterlot sky was filled with stars that shone bright, burning like the wick of a candle. The castles and mansions of Canterlot spewed thick, dark smoke, as though they were factories ready to dish out a new bulletproof carriage.. Airships roamed the night sky, adding to the luminescence of the stars.

Welcome...to the Age of Steam. Or as some call it nowadays; the Steampunk Era.

In the slums of the city,  new life has just begun in the worst hospital anypony could ever imagine. A foal, crying in his father's arms, his mother lay on the hospital bed, unmoving, as nurses cry quietly and cover the body. The foal will never know the warmth and compassion of his mother, only the firmness and strength of his Father. This will shape his future. The father of the foal looks through the window, seeing wealth in the form of an airship owned by the infamous sky pirates, ‘Of Cogs and Guns’.

He smiles painfully down at his crying child, and he whispers in the foal's ear, "I know one day, you'll fly around the world...my young Dirty Pistons."

You are Dirty Pistons, you just turned three years old and are currently playing in the wooded backyard of your home. Your father is away. Your hear something; the loud sounds of trees snapping as a destroyer class airship cruises near the ground. You look behind you and see the massive airship crashing into your backyard. You run to the house, making it inside just as the warship destroys all of the trees in your backyard. You looked down, away from the startling sight and back up. Your dad bursts through the front door of your house and sees you watching through the backyard screen door. He approaches and gets on his knees to hug you. You can only stare, feeling no sort of emotion as you reflect on what happened. You had almost died and yet all you could do was watch your favorite playing area become an empty field.

How come you weren't crying?

You're now six, and on your birthday, you build a mini airship destroyer that actually flies thanks to a radio control system. The ship is complete with  a finish of redwood on the edges. You show it to your father, and he chuckles. "One day, I'll build you an airship so mighty, all others will be brought to shame. But sadly, that will be a gift for when you are older, my child." You smile wide, and hug your Dad. "Thanks, Dad!" You call out. He looks around, and hugs back as he says, "You're welcome. Just...say it a little more quiet next time."

On your twelfth birthday, your Dad was nowhere to be seen. You looked all around the house. But no sign of him. You finally come across a study room in your home. You go through the book names. Books like, "The Time Machine" and "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea" and eventually you come across a book called, "How to build an airship" You try to pull it out, but it stays rooted to the spot. You then grip the top and pull as hard as you can, and an audible click is heard. The rather large bookshelf slowly pivots, opening to a stairway spiraling downwards. You decide hesitantly to go down, where you hear the sound of a blowtorch and some hammering of nails and bolts. You come all the way down the stairs, a good twenty feet down under the ground, and you see an unfinished airship being built by none other than your Dad.

You look at him, and he just stares through a welder's helmet. But due to his rather large muzzle and strong jaw, you knew it was him. You ran to him, and he heard you. He turned to face you, and broke into a sweat. "My child! Dirty, you shouldn't--" he stopped when you hugged him and he hugged back hesitantly. He laughed quietly. "I guess...you found out my secret. I have been working on this gift since you were six and still building. But you won't get it until it is done. Okay?"

You nod slowly and look to it. On the sides were slots opened for at least twenty-five cannons. And at the fore of the ship were five mortar shot cannons. at the aft of the ship were two gatling guns, and the ship's hull was covered in a bullet-resistant alloy. Stuff you only knew of due to being a colt. Your Dad got off his knees and patted your back. "She's a beauty, isn't she, Dirty? And someday, she'll be yours." You picked up on him calling it a she. You noticed an unfinished engraving on the side that read, 'The Ship of the Reaper' It was powered by sails and steam, judging by the smell of oil and smoke.

You could only imagine the adventures you would go on. Until your father suddenly passes out

Now you’re sixteen. You're walking to the Canterlot Cemetery, holding a bouquet of roses. You stop at a pair of tombstones. One has the name ‘Prisma Colors’ and the other has the name, ‘Hyde Rawlicks.’ You placed the bouquet of roses in a small vase with a chipped section at the rim. You then filled it with water and left. At this point you already knew you would have to finish building the ship and begin a new life for yourself. You weren't gonna live your life in fear of the sky pirates like your dad told you to at age thirteen.

And one day, it all began with a simple meet and greet.

To The Skies!

The Meeting of Clear Skies

You were now seventeen. A whole year has passed. You've gotten a job at a royal zeppelin factory for three bits per hour of work. Considering all the other factories paid less in exchange for labor, you were satisfied with the pay. You were able to pay the bills just barely, especially since you spent most of your home time working on the airship. You worked tirelessly on that ship. Mainly because your Dad promised when it was finished, it'd be yours. But also because you wanted to test your abilities.

One day, you came home from the factory. You took off your grease stained coveralls and placed it on the sofa. You then plopped onto the old recliner chair beside it, caqusing specks of dust to fly up into the air. You lean forward a bit to turn on the radio and hear the daily news of Canterlot. The usual mare said the usual thing all the time. The weather, the entertainment, and the same old mention of the notorious sky pirates "Of Cogs and Guns" who rule Canterlot skies with an iron fist. You decide not to listen to the same old crap and turn it off. Getting off the couch, you then slipped out of your work clothes and almost into something more suitable for your current task, when you hear something clang in the kitchen. You walk towards it, and all you see is a metal pot on the floor, as well as a couple soup ladels.

You approached the kitchen further, and looked around. Upon seeing nopony around, you crouched and picked up the ladels and pot to put them in the sink.

That's when you were tackled.

By a mare with torn clothes.

She had a wild look in her eyes, as if she has seen something terrifying.

You look at her intense eyes and ask her, "Is something the matter?" She only responds by getting up and dragging you along. She then brings you to your bedroom and hides in the closet. "Hide me," she whispers as she closed the door to the closet, trapping herself inside. Just as she did that, two stallions bursted through the windows, shattering the glass. They then entered your bedroom, seeing you and stopping dead in their tracks. "Listen here, old chap," said the one to the left, a burly stallion wearing a suit with the sleeves torn off. He continued with, "Have you seen a mare with a chain on her neck and some torn clothes?"

You realized at this point what they were doing. They were pony slave smugglers. Ponies who ruthlessly kidnapped and sold mares and stallions of as slaves. You looked to the one on the right, a scrawny young buck whose height stopped at your shoulder. He looked around and whispered something into the other's ear.

"Is there a problem, kind sirs?" you asked, hands thrown to the air carelessly and in a shrugging motion. They nod and reply with, "We have reason to believe a servant of one of our customers has run off before fulfilling her duty to him."

You know now why the ripped clothes were a thing. He was trying to force homself upon her. You cracked your neck and smirked. "I'm sorry. I know nothing of a mare. But if I did, you'd most likely have to fight me for it. Just be warned; I've been in a few bare knuckle prize fights." They looked to each other, then to you, and laughed brutishly. The one to the left replied, "As if, good sir! Our problem is not with you. Step aside and let us search the--"

A punch you threw to his neck shut him up immediately. The young buck to the right pulled out a switchblade and rushed you, slicing into the air. You lean back, causing him to graze your muzzle, leaving a cut on your jaw. You grunt in pain and smirk shortly after. "That ain't fair, mate." You exclaim. You then taunt him with a rude gesture. He rushes again and slashes his knife at you. You grab the knife with one hand and his wrist with the other. This caused him to let go of the knife, and you started to grip his wrist tighter. He yelled out in pain as you were now clearly crushing his wrist. You dropped the knife and smacked him so hard across the face he was knocked unconscious. You dropped him soon after and knocked the lights out of the burly stallion.

With two for two and only a graze, you smiled. You then remembered the mare in your closet. You ran to it and opened the door. She stared at you, then behind you to the bodies. She opened her mouth to speak, and you only shushed her as you said, "No worries. They are only unconscious. Now...care for a spot of tea?"

She smiled nervously and nodded, then whispered, "My name is Clear Skies."

The both of you sat in the living room, using the bodies as pillows for your aching feet. The clock in the room ticked and tocked, making the silence seem even worse as you sipped your tea.

She eventually asked in an almost inaudible voice, "Wh-why did you not sell me out to those brutes?" You only crack a smile as she asks. You then reply smoothly, "Well, I'd much rather not have seen a beautiful mare turned sex slave get dragged away without saying something about it. So naturally, I chose to defend you. Besides, I love to fight anyway." She nods in response to your statement and drinks her tea. She then observes you and blushes heavily. You look at her, then down, and remember you are only in your underwear still. You get up and leave to the bedroom, where you slip into something more comfortable. Upon returning to the living room, you had found her looking around. She then looked up at you and said, "I call the couch."

You raise your hand and shake it to gesture the word no. "I'd rather you sleep comfortably. Sleep in my bed and I'll down in the basement. Besides, I have a project I'm working on." You say after. She hesitantly nods and gets up to go upstairs. And that was about as much of conversation as you both had that day.