The Golden Oaks Public Library was currently quite hectic. Between a garish blur of colors streaking about, shouting expletives, and a pink blur teleporting around talking about parties, the local librarian was beginning to develop a migraine. Twilight Sparkle was not a happy pony (nor would she admit to being hyperbolic in any way when stressed; she was quite measured and logical, if asked).

In actuality, six mares and one hatchling dragon were all anxiously discussing the implications of a new threat. They barely knew each other, and a tight timetable associated with disaster meant much more stress (though let it be said; one pink party pony persisted, perpetually planning parties).

"I say we go find whatever that was, and punch it in the face!" a particular prismatic Pegasus protested. She had a cerulean coat, reminiscent of the sky, and a mane and tail sporting a Roy G. Biv theme. Much like her attitude, her hair was wild and untamed, only having seen a brush a hoof-full of times throughout her entire life. She wasn't dirty, though! She bathed regularly and took lots of time to preen her wings! She didn't brush her mane because it wasted time she could spend practicing her stunts, anyway (plus it was too girly)!

"Land sakes, Rainbow! If you ain't orneryer'n a cat in a room full'a rockin' chairs! Sit yer behind down an' listen ta Twilight!" protested a peeved produce pony. This agrarian sported a tangerine coat, and a dirty blonde mane and tail, which were both tied with a piece of red silk ribbon. She could be seen wearing a wide brimmed hat, though she still had a freckled face from long hours of toil in the field. Normally she didn' like ta yell, but with Rainbow flyin' off the handle (like she always does), it was makin' Fluttershy a mite more nervous than she oughta'. But that Rainbow 'll never learn, bless her heart.

"Fillies! Please calm down and let poor Twilight speak; She's obviously stressed— the poor darling," the stylish seamstress said. The fashionista had a stark white coat, with an elegant purple coiffure, curled delicately at the ends. She also wore a gentle robin's egg blue eye shadow— the only in the group to wear anything more than mascara and eyeliner. She simply found it to be utterly dreadful that young mares should behave as anything less than perfectly civil. Though she understood that Rainbow Dash was quite a boor at all times, much to her chagrin.

"Come on girls! There's a friendly superpowered alien that likes parties, and we're just sitting around here!" proffered the pink party/pastry pony. The bubbly baker had a bubblegum pink coat, and a curly mop of a mane that was a lovely shade of hot pink. She really loved parties and cake! Like really, really loved parties- especially the kind with really loud music and hard punch (she didn’t really like vodka, but when she mixed it with punch it tasted okay, but she liked to get wild (not that she was really supposed to, since the Cakes always complained about the music and staying up until three in the morning with random colts making too much—!)!)!

"Um, Pinkie? Isn't that... irresponsible?" stammered the shy animal servant (um... can I stop alliterating? Um, if that's okay with you...). She was a shy, butter yellow Pegasus with a pastel pink mane hiding as much of her face as it could. Normally she didn't like to butt in, but that sounded like it could be dangerous and... eep!

Before Pinkie could turn and tell Fluttershy just how utterly ridiculous it was to mention something like that (as Pinkie was antithetical to logic and responsibility), Twilight had finally decided to loudly interject.

"MARES!" she shouted, cutting off everyone else in the room. "We don't have time to waste bickering here; the next train arrives in an hour, and if we miss it, it's a twenty-five hour journey one way. The line only sends one engine that way until the last one returns, so we'd have to wait over two days!"

"Twilight's right," spoke the apple farmer, "Ya'll need ta calm down. Ya kin lose yer heads on the train."

The other mares looked to each other and nodded, voicing their assent. As they began to rove about, either grabbing bags or sitting quietly to calmly talk amongst themselves. The only exception was Pinkie, who had mysteriously conjured a deck of playing cards and roped Applejack into playing 2-pony Solitaire.

Twilight quietly sighed and began to perform a last-minute inventory of her packed items. As she went down the list, ensuring that each item was neatly replaced into her stuffed-to-maximum-capacity saddle bags, Spike trundled up to her.

"You okay, Twilight?"

She released another sigh, letting her checklist sit on her newly inventoried items. "Yeah, Spike, I'm fine. I just wish we didn't have to deal with these crazy ponies. Individually, I feel like I could handle them. Tartarus, I feel like I might even get along with some of them, but when they get together..."

"Yeah, I get that feeling too. They don't play together too well, but when fate says you have to be friends, it's what you gotta do."

"It's annoyingly coincidental, isn't it?"

Spike chuckled, giving Twilight a gentle and comforting pat on the withers. "Maybe, but you can at least pretend until you can force yourself to let them grow on you."

"Thanks, Spike," she said, ruefully chuckling with him, "If I didn't know you so well, I'd swear that you were trying to butter me up."
"What, can't a Drake comfort his closest friend and confidant?"

Twilight simply smiled and rolled her eyes, pulling him in for a hug. The rest of the mares smiled at the heart-warming sight, save for a pink mare who giggled, alluding to foreshadowing and something about a dingy. The only mare to react to Pinkie was Rarity, whose lip slightly twitched in a subconscious way.

They eventually returned to preparing for the midday train to Appleoosa.

"What is this?"

I looked at Chrysalis, reclining comfortably in my chair. She used her magic to levitate the flintlock, carelessly spinning it. I winced as she looked directly down the barrel. It wasn't loaded, so she wasn't going to blow her brains out, but my training with rifles still made me very sensitive around it.

"It's your ticket to becoming a global power," I said gently moving the barrel away from her head, "a weapon the likes of which this world has never seen."

"A weapon?" she said, her face flashing with multiple emotions, settling on uncertainty. "I don't know how to feel about that, Steve. Why would you give me something like that anyway?" She set it down, pushing it away from herself.

"I want to help you, Chrysalis. If what you said is true, you deserve it," I said, running a hand over the buttstock. “Besides, this would probably meet the criterion of my mission without spreading global ruin.”

"While I appreciate the sentiment, Steve,” she said, giving a brief conciliatory smile, “I don’t think it will end well for me. If it’s a weapon of enough note that my having it would cause chaos, it would likely bring a devastating war to my people.”

I hummed in thought, "You don't necessarily have to go to war..."

"What do you mean?" she said, leaning onto the table.

"Well, once these weapons have been produced, and the soldiers trained, you release the information. Once word gets out, someone will probably attack as you said; however, once they do, you obliterate the invaders and march to their capital with a token force and demand parlay."

"And you think this weapon will allow me to do so?" she said, tilting her head slightly.

"Yes," I said, leaning back in my chair, "I think it’ll also mean the fewest lost lives on both sides."

"Be that as it may,” she said, her skepticism practically dripping from every word, “I don't see how that would be possible. We are a city-state with a population of 30,000 and an army of 3,000; any conventionally sized army would be able to wipe us off the map, even with this odd, cudgel-thing."

I smiled as Chrysalis eased back into her chair with a look of confusion. "Maybe if it were only a cudgel," I said, causing her confusion to grow. "This is a force multiplier of 1,000 against your average foot soldier."

"What?!"

I smiled, "Let's move outside, and I can show you."

She was suspicious, but stood up anyway. "Very well, Steve. I’ll trust you, even though every instinct I have tells me not to."

I smiled, taking the teacup and downing it to the bitter leaves at the bottom. “I think that this might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

She merely rolled her eyes, silently standing up. She walked around the small table to wait next to me.

I gathered my things, putting my sword-belt on and slinging the musket over my shoulders. We walked the short distance to the doors in silence, which opened as we approached. I nodded to the guards in chitin as we walked passed, watching as they closed the doors and fell in behind the Queen.

By the time we made it to the front doors, she spoke up once more. "You have me very curious, Samaritan. How could that weapon be so powerful?"

"Well," I said, almost forgetting that we were in public, "It’s pretty simple, once you know about it, Your Majesty. I will explain more as we get to the outskirts of the city."

She nodded, following my lead as I ascended into the sky. We quickly began flying toward the edge of the city, following the same path I used when I first arrived. I looked at my watch, which told me that it was now a quarter past four.

"Basically, it launches a small piece of lead— the bullet— at very high speeds towards a target. Circular grooves along the length of the metal tube— called the barrel— causes the bullets to spin, making them fly straighter."

She nodded, listening intently, ignoring the bows of Changelings as we passed. "How fast do the bullets fly? I'd imagine it would have to be very fast to make it effective."

"Yes, at a rate of about 500 meters in a second."

"How far is a meter?" she asked, noting that we had passed the threshold of the city limits.

"I'm exactly two meters tall," I said, landing about fifty meters outside the city. There was little activity here, and none in the desert beyond. A large sand dune blocked the horizon about 100 meters away, making for a perfect berm.

The other Changelings we passed seemed curious, though they quickly went about their business when the Queen’s guards looked at them.

She thought for a second, and blanched, going slightly pale. "T-that's impossible! How could a mechanism or conventional magic possibly hope to propel something that fast?"

I smirked, giving the longrifle a loving pat. "Directed explosives can be a very powerful thing, Your Majesty."

"Explosives? Well, I'm glad you had the forethought to bring it all the way out here for a demonstration," she said, still looking a little shaken.

I chuckled, looking to her guards, whom remained stoic, save for their wide eyed amazement. We’d only been flying for a few minutes, but I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything since four hours before I “died,” and I was starting to get hungry.

"Am I to assume that their armor is quite standard, Your Majesty?” I said, eagre to get done and find something to eat, “Or is it significantly better than the common guards'?"

She shook her head, clearing away her previous thoughts. "It is quite a bit more durable than my common soldier's equipment, yes. Why?"

"Would you mind asking one of your boys to place their helmet in the middle of that dune out there, Your Majesty?"

She looked out to the berm in the distance, "You wish to test your weapon against my Royal Guard's helmet then? Very well," she said, motioning the guard on her right to do as I asked.
The guard snapped to attention, quickly placing it half way up the dune and returning. I idly noted that the guard had eyes similar to the Colonel, and appeared to be female.

"Alright," I said, picking up a handful of sand, "as I said, Your Majesty, this weapon uses directed explosives, so it will be very loud."

She nodded, pinning her ears to her head in an adorable fashion. I noted that the guards did the same as I used my magic to turn the sand to gunpowder as I poured it down the barrel. I used the rest to make a .45 calibre miné ball. They gave me odd looks as I opened the pan and placed a small amount of powder there, before closing it. Once the hammer was cocked, I brought the iron sight to my eye, ensuring a proper sight picture before I gently squeezed the trigger.

As I exhaled I applied slightly more pressure to the trigger until the bang sounded, just as I finished releasing all of my breath. I could see the helmet roll down roll down the dune in a small cloud of dust, resting at the foot of the berm.

I turned to see the queen rubbing her ears, looking at the puff of sand drifting away on the wind. "That wasn't as spectacular as you made it sound. Though it was quite loud."

I merely smirked as I stood, using my magic to levitate the helm to us. "Maybe so, but I think you'll want to see the results before you disavow it, Your Majesty."

She harrumphed, watching me grab the helmet from the air. It felt a lot lighter than it probably should, and its surface was pleasantly smooth and cool to the touch. I turned it over, looking at its face, and smiled.

I could hear the Queen gasp behind me, seeing a new hole punched through the brow of the helmet, about five centimeters above the eye-slit, right in the middle, with a matching hole on the other side. Cracks spiderwebbed out from the hole, leading me to believe the helmet was quite hard, but also somewhat brittle.

Before I could examine the rather interesting helmet any further, it was snatched from my grasp by magic. I turned to see the Queen staring at it in terrified awe.

She let the helmet drop to the sand, startling the dumbfounded guards back to attention. "I think you might be right about the capability of that weapon, Samaritan. That helmet was crafted from Giant Scarab chitin, making it harder and lighter than any iron or bronze equivalent. Yet your weapon tore through it like paper."

"I honestly thought those helmets would be like steel, but to hear you compare it to iron..."

She looked at me with an exasperated grimace. "Steel is quite rare, you know. It would be obscenely expensive to make armor from it. We don't even know how it's made, it just appears in the bloomeries when we forge the iron."

I hummed, slinging the longrifle. "This weapon is mostly made from steel. It wouldn't function properly if it were made from iron."

She slumped slightly, chuckling ruefully. "I should have known. A weapon we could never hope to make is our only chance at salvation. Truly, the gods’ punishment is ironic."

"Actually, Your Majesty," I said, causing her to look over to me, "I know of a few ways you could mass-produce steel. You could not only make yourselves the military might of the globe, but also the only producer of steel."

She was in my face so quickly I didn't even see her move. "Are you entirely serious?" she said, a desperate hope gleaming in her eyes.

"As serious as the grave."

She turned to the two guards who had followed us, who stood stock still at perfect attention. "You shall tell no one of what you heard here, is that understood?"

"Yes, My Queen! Long may you reign!" they responded in near perfect unison. I noted that the still helmeted guard sounded distinctly male.

The Queen turned to me, smiling excitedly. "We have a great deal to discuss, Samaritan."

I smirked as we took off, heading back toward the Citadel. "Indeed."

Author's Note

Applejack is simultaneously hilarious and infuriating to write. I think it might be the countryisims, or the fact that I actually needed several references from family members as well as online translators to be able to write it. It's also funny how she can be madder 'n a box 'o frogs and you wouldn't be able to understand her insults. It really dills my pickle! (send help)

I felt like the relationship between Twilight and Spike was artificially weakened to prevent a strong male lead, so I decided to let Spike have his wisdom shine at most times. I also let them have a stronger relationship, because it feels so unnatural to treat someone you spent most of your childhood with like a mildly amusing slave. This just feels more wholesome to me, but let me know what you think in the comments below.

Also, for those who didn't know, the original smelting process for iron didn't liquefy it completely, meaning only small lumps of steel were formed due to the carbon from their fuel sources. For the longest time, we didn't know that to make steel, you had to liquefy the iron and introduce carbon, so steel was as precious as gold. The more you know...

Anyway, please leave a comment below to let me know what you think.

~Lonelydarkness

EDITED!!! (It's in the clouds!)