The 9:15 to Foalsomeby Zap Apple SmashChaptersAll Aboard!A bumpy rideGettting derailedGetting back on trackAll Aboard!TERRIBLE THAUMATURGIC TWO-TONE DISEASE TERRORIZES TRAUMATIZED TROTTINGHAM! After speculation, it has been confirmed that Trottingham has indeed been struck with an outbreak of the dreaded Two-Tone disease. Though the disease is not directly lethal to its victims, its primary symptom of complete color-blindness can cause severe depression and erratic behaviour in those afflicted. Though quarantine methods have proven effective in preventing new cases, a call for aid has been issued to the Night Court. An official statement released by the government says they intend to send relief aid in the form of doctors, alchemists and supplies for mass brewing and distribution of the cure as soon as vital ingredients and personnel can be gathered from Neigh Orleans and Canterlot. Galeb, a robin blue Zebrony with a navy blue stripes and an aquamarine mane, looked at the newspaper that had been dropped in front of him. He looked at the paper for a solid minute before gazing up at his brother sitting across the table. “Whatever you’re planning Bantu, I want no part in this.” Galeb said, pushing the paper away. “Just hear me out.” “I don’t have to,” Galeb replied. “You might be able to read others but I can read you. And just by the look on your face I can already tell I’m not going to like how this story is turning out.” “Just listen, this idea will set us for life.” Galeb suppressed a groan. “Brother, don’t you think it’s time to ease up on these schemes of yours?” The honey brown zebrony’s nose crinkled in disgust. “Excuse me?” “You have been taking dumber risks lately and they haven’t really been paying off.” “So I’ve had a few set backs, no big deal.” Galeb turned round and looked his brother head on. “No big deal? You’ve been banned from three bars and four neighbourhoods. Your sales license in the bazaar has been revoked and you’re one misdemeanour away from being permanently banned. You have at least two griffons out for your blood, which considering they’re carnivores is really not a good place to be and you never even asked what the Bayou Krewe had me do in order to work off your debt to them.” “Hey! I returned the favour on that one.” “Setting me up on a date does not count as returning the favour.” “Well it would have if you had managed to seal the deal.” “The point is that these lofty aspirations of yours are doing more harm than good.” Galeb continued. “At least I have aspirations,” Bantu shot back. “Is this really how you want to live the rest of your life? Pottering away on your little projects here in grandmeres shop? With your talent you could be the next Voodoo King but instead you are wasting your talents.” “I’m wasting my talents?” Galeb scoffed. “If you actually applied yourself you could be just as good as me at voodoo, maybe even better. Instead you spend your time on cons and schemes.” “At least I’m getting somewhere.” Bantu replied. “You are exactly where you have always been. Living in Grandmeres shop, dabbling in your experiments, in your little corner.” Galeb let out an angry snort. “I am making decent money with my stall in the bazaar. Pretty soon I’ll have enough to afford a place of my own.” “You only have that stall because I sweet talked Erzulie into letting you have it.” Galeb rolled his eyes, no one ‘sweet talks’ Erzulie into anything. But he will admit that Bantu had gotten him a decent deal for it. Bantu decided to lighten his approach. “Come on brother, I need you on this. I’m good and you’re decent but together we’re unstoppable.” “Like a freight train off a cliff,” Galeb commented dryly. After a moment of silence he let out a sigh. “Alright fine, I'm listening. Why exactly is a disease in Trottingham an opportunity?" "Because, it means that if there is an outbreak, they are going to need doctors and alchemists and huge quantities of the cure." Galeb let out a snort. "So you want to sell them the cure? Good luck with that. Even if you were good enough at making it, there's no way you'll be able to afford the ingredients. Penance Bark alone is worth a small fortune. That's not even taking into account that the crown has sole buying rights to some of those ingredients. And I am not about to become a snake oil seller." "Exactly, the government is sitting on a princess’s ransom worth of ingredients, stocked away in case of emergencies like this in vaults in Canterlot." "So?" "So, it takes at least two days to get from Canterlot to Trottingham. The Two-Tone Cure is only useable up to four hours after it's been made. Meaning that they need to take the raw ingredients to Trottingham and then mix the cure on site. My friend in the station told me that a notice has been sent out to all the stations, making them reschedule their trains so that several of their trains are rerouted next week, so a train from Canterlot can have a clear track all the way to Trottingham. But a bunch of the more common ingredients are getting shipped from right here in Neigh Orleans." "So a train carrying expensive ingredients will be leaving in a few days. Unless you were planning on robbing the train how is any of this information useful?” Galeb noticed the pointed silence that hung in the air. "Come on Bantu, you cannot be serious." "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity," Bantu replied to his brother. "Just think what we could do with the ingredients that train will be carrying." "What I can't stop thinking about is that you're talking about robbing a train meant to be carrying relief supplies." Galeb shot back. "We'll leave most of it," Bantu argued. "We'll be sure to make that they discover the robbery not too far from Canterlot. The train gets resupplied in no time, the relief supplies go where they need to and we both score big time. Everyone wins." "Except us if this goes wrong," Galeb said. "Sorry Bantu, but I can't be a part of this." Bantu threw up his hooves in dismay. "Fine then." At that the older stallion started to leave. “Where are you going?” Galeb asked. “If you want to let opportunity pass you by that’s your choice.” Bantu shot back. “But this is my chance to make it big and I’m taking it, with or without you.” Shocked, Galeb could only stand there as he watched his brother walk away. Tin Whistle resisted the urge to let out a sigh of boredom. Despite being the conductor in charge of the train that would eventually be carrying relief supplies to an area in need, the Neigh Orleans part of the journey was pretty much like any other train stop, and a particularly boring one at that. Still, it was his duty to ensure that everything ran smoothly. With that said, when he decided to leave his home to be a train conductor, he had hoped his occupation would offer the occasional break in the monotony. As if answering his request, he was brought out of his thoughts when a zebrony appeared in his periphery vision. He was honey brown with a teal mane, roan brown stripes and was busy pulling a large crate on wheels towards one of the luggage cars. Tin Whistle straightened his hat before he began his approach. Once he was in range of the other pony he cleared his throat loudly. “Ahem!” The striped equine looked up at Tin Whistle. “Can I help you?” the conductor asked. “No no, I can load this crate myself,” The zebrony replied as he continued to pull the crate. “It’s not as heavy as it looks.” The zebrony’s progress was halted when Tin Whistle stepped in front of him. “I believe you have the wrong train.” “This is the train headed for Trottingham, isn’t it? I’ve got to get this loaded into the mail car.” The zebrony pointedly tapped on the crate. Tin Whistle raised an eyebrow sceptically. “The mail cart’s already been loaded.” “Yeah but there was a mix-up and this got loaded on the wrong train by mistake.” the zebrony explained. “It almost ended up getting sent to Detrot.” “Well, unless you have a clearance form from the station master, I can’t let that onto the train.” “Of course,” the zebrony pulled out a yellowish piece of paper which he then gave to Tin Whistle. “Here you are.” The conductor looked over the piece of paper and then once he was satisfied he gave it back. “Alright then. Let’s get this loaded on.” Any response the zebrony was about to give was stopped by the sound of a wagon being pushed across the platform. As they looked they saw a mare pushing a cart of various food items across the platform. At the sight of the mare, Tin Whistle stood straighter and puffed his chest out slightly. “Good day, Miss Tulip,” he called out with a tip of the hat. “And to you, Tin Whistle.” Miss Tulip called back. Once she was further along the platform, Tin Whistle returned his attention to the zebrony, who was now wearing a knowing little grin. “You know, I could take care of this myself if you would rather go have a little chat with Miss Tulip.” “Excuse me?” “It’s obvious you like her so why don’t you go have a talk with her before departing. There’s still time.” Tin Whistle looked at the big clock on the platform, There was actually time before he had to do the boarding call and he had all his other jobs finished. After some deliberation he shook his head. “No, that would be highly unprofessional, besides even if I did like her how do I know she would even be interested in somepony like me?” “Well she did remember your name,” the zebrony replied. “Excuse me?” Tin Whistle asked. “I don’t know Miss Tulip but I know of her,” zebrony explained. “She is horrendous at remembering any pony’s names, she barely remembers the names of her siblings. If she’s remembered your name, it’s because she’s either made the effort or you made enough of an impression. Either of those is promising.” The conductor looked in the direction of Miss Tulip and bit his lip slightly. The zebrony gave him playful nudge. “Come on,” he said. “Don’t be so quick to derail this train before it has a chance to leave the station.” Tin Whistle turned back to the zebrony. “The mail car’s the last one before the caboose. If you have any issues loading it, ask one of the porters to help you.” The two then separated. Bantu in the direction of mail car, Tin Whistle in direction of Miss Tulip. Bantu was able to get the crate loaded and secure in the mail car with little difficulty. Just as he finished, the door connecting the mail car to the caboose opened up to reveal a stern and portly stallion. “Oi! What are you doing here?” He demanded. Bantu took on an air of professional detachment. “That’s funny, I was going to ask you the same question, this is a restricted access area.” “The name’s Pufferbelly.” The pony replied. “I work the caboose. Who the blue blazes are you?” “I’m Red Tape,” Bantu replied. “I work for the Equestrian Postal Service as part of Internal Affairs.” “Internal Affairs?” “That’s what I said. We had a tip that some of the local post ponies have been using postal cars as a means of smuggling contraband. I have been asked to discreetly inspect all mail cars that stop here in Neigh Orleans.” Bantu gave the yellow piece of paper to Pufferbelly. “Here is my warrant, granting me access to any mail car in this station.” Pufferbelly looked over the piece of paper before giving it back. “I wasn’t told about any inspection.” “That was intentional,” Bantu explained. “There has been doubt cast on the source of our intel. Not enough to dismiss it but enough that we want further proof before formally charging anypony. Notifying ponies of the inspection could tip off any guilty party or get innocent workers caught in the crossfire.” Bantu gave Pufferbelly a hard look. “Can I count on your discretion?” Pufferbelly let out a disapproving huff. “This is a waste of time. I know every mail pony that works the lines and they’re all honest hard working ponies.” “You’re probably right but I still need to investigate, if only to prove their innocence. I only need about 10 minutes of privacy to scan through to mail car then I’ll move on.” Pufferbelly sized up the zebrony before turning to leave. “I need to go run final checks on the caboose before we leave. Don’t be here when I get back.” Bantu maintained his profession demeanour right until the door of the mail car closed and he was alone. He glanced down at that the yellow paper before reading it. It was actually mostly blank with a few magic symbols on it. He may not be as versatile with voodoo as his brother was but if there was one trick he was particularly good at, it was spell paper. He opened a false panel on the side of the crate and climbed inside. Once he was inside and comfortable he pulled out a small vial filled with potion. While hiding out in a crate in the mail car was the best way to avoid detection it did have a few setbacks, namely trying to make the whole trip to Canterlot without food, water, bathroom breaks or even the ability to properly stretch his legs. Luckily he had managed to get a good deal on a decent hibernation potion. He had enough measured out so it would knock him out for the duration of the trip from Neigh Orleans to Canterlot, meaning he would be able to hide out in the crate with no difficulty and then wake up in time to get the job done. He downed the contents of the vial and then lay down as it started to take effect. As he drifted into unconsciousness he spared a final thought to how rich he was going to be when all this was over. A bumpy rideTin Whistle approached a couple of attendants that were on break. “Sorry to bother,” he said in pleasant tone. “Just wanted to check that everything was going alright with the passengers.” “Right as rain,” the first attendant replied. “Most of the passengers are itching to get to work in Trottingham but the whole trip’s been without incident.” “Wonderful to hear,” Tin Whistle checked his watch. “I’ve spoken to the engineer and we are on schedule. When you finish your break you can let the passengers know we’ll be arriving at Canterlot within the next 3 hours.” “Will do.” The second attendant replied. At that Tin Whistle walked off, whistling a happy tune. “Is it me or has Tin Whistle been in an incredibly good mood since we left Neigh Orleans?” The first attendant asked. “Word is that he finally got the nerve to talk to that food cart mare he’s been sweet on,” the second attendant explained. “Really? Good for him.” Bantu groaned as he gained consciousness. It was a slow process trying to shake loose all of the cobwebs in his mind. One of the downsides of the hibernation potion was that waking back up took much longer than usual. The constipation also was unwanted but would work itself out eventually. Finally he was able to get his bearings. He was still inside his crate which was a good start. Light was shining through the small openings of the crate so he could assume it was daytime. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his watch. It was a keepsake from one of his more successful card playing nights. His opponent might have had a terrible poker face but he had excellent taste in watches. Not only was it finely made, it also had a small display on the face that kept track of the date in addition to keeping track of the time. According to his watch, he had woken up a couple of hours before the train was scheduled to arrive in Canterlot. By way the way the train was inclining, Bantu assumed that the train was still on schedule. This was both a good and bad thing. It was good because it meant that he had not missed his opportunity and by the time he had to act the hibernation potion would be completely out of his system. It was bad because it meant he was now trapped inside the crate for a couple of hours since he couldn’t risk getting out of it until after the train left Canterlot station. So, with no better option, he put on his lucky bowler hat, making sure none of the feathers had been bent in the trip, and pulled out a deck of cards. He then proceeded to play solitaire in order to pass the time. In hindsight, a book might have been a better idea. The Canterlot station mistress put down the book she had been reading when she heard a train noisily announce its arrival. Stepping out of her office she saw that it was the train from Neigh Orleans. She checked her watch. “They completely disrupted my schedule but at least they’re on time.” She grumbled. The station mistress hated relief trains. While she could sympathise with the plight of Trottingham and was on some level grateful to live in a nation that was so quick in sending aid to those in need, she definitely could do without the headache that organising a relief train took. Being station mistress in the nation’s capital was hard enough work, she didn’t also need all the logistical trouble of clearing the lines whenever a relief train needed to be sent out. Still she was master of this station and she was going to show these goons in the royal guard how the railway got things done. She then noticed a pegasus in armour approaching her. “Speak of Discord and he will appear,” she muttered before greeting the newcomer. “Hello again Lieutenant Hope, I trust everything is on schedule.” Lieutenant Forlorn Hope was always the one put in charge of making sure relief supplies made it safely from storage to the station. “Actually I’m Lieutenant Nimbostratus,” The pegasus replied. “Lieutenant Hope got transferred to Cloudsdale.” The station mistress gave a shrug. “You military types all look alike to me.” “Indeed,” The pegasus replied, his face neutral. “Well to answer your question, yes, everything is on schedule. However there are changes to the train layout that you need to sign off on.” He held out an inventory sheet. The station mistress looked it over. “You’re adding another storage car and another passenger car. Who approved this?!!” “The princess did,” Nimbostratus explained. “The night court ruled last night to add financial aid to the shipment. We need the extra passenger car to house the extra security.” “Fine,” the station mistress said with a huff as she signed off the new inventory. “Let’s just get this sorted.” Once all passengers had disembarked from the train and told to be ready to board in an hour, the railroad, military and relief personnel got to work. The brake van was removed so that two more storage cars and a passenger car for the guards could be added onto the train. Once connected, the caboose was reattached and they got to work loading the supplies. First the basic relief supplies were loaded on, followed by the more specialised ingredients from the alchemist vaults. Lastly the relief funds from the treasury was loaded on along with the added security to protect it. Once all this was done the passengers, both the ones from Neigh Orleans and the ones the joining on from Canterlot, climbed back aboard. After one final whistle the train departed. The station mistress watched as the train left before returning to her office, hoping that the rest of her day would be without incident. The whistle and the movement of the train was enough to jerk Bantu awake. When he got tired of solitaire he decided on a nap to work out the remainder of the hibernation potion. Finally he climbed out of his crate. It was time to get to work. First thing he needed to do was find the car that was holding the good stuff. He assumed that it would one of the end cars but he had no way of knowing for sure beforehand. Luckily he knew for certain that one of the key ingredients for the cure is a rare type of fungus most commonly known as purgatory. Now purgatory has a very distinctive smell but it is illegal for anypony aside from crown endorsed alchemists to be in possession of it. This means that any purgatory on the train would have to have come from the alchemical vaults. And seeing as the alchemists would keep all their high ticket items in one place, once Bantu found the purgatory, he’d find the motherload. Unfortunately because this was a moving train with the cars separate, he probably won’t be able to get a whiff of purgatory until he was at the right car so it means he still would need to check each car until he found the right one. Alright so maybe not every part of this plan was as well thought out. He had honestly planned on Galeb having an idea of tracking the car carrying the good stuff. Still he was here now and as the saying goes, in for a jangle, in for a bit. Deciding to go with his gut, he headed to the exit that led to the end of the train. As he opened the door he was assaulted with the rushing wind. He crossed to platforms connecting the car. He paused for a minute to look to the side, seeing a spectacular view of the land rushing past him … at the bottom of a tremendous cliff. He gulped and moved to the other car, looking through the door window he saw two guards sitting at a small table. He briefly considered going around them somehow before he noticed the rows and rows of crates behind them. He had to check this car. Now was when things got tricky. Bantu was no match for even one of the royal guard, much less two. His spell paper was also not going to be much help since for it to have an effect there has to be at least a shred of credibility to whatever story he’s telling in the eyes of target. Luckily he had brought some backup plans. He checked his pockets for some of the vials that he had “borrowed” from his brother. The black-topped one was his last resort if things went sideways, the green and blue tops were what he needed right now. He opened the green-topped vial and drank its contents. It tasted like rotten bananas and it made his lips numb but it protected him from what was in the other vials, at least for a few hours. Bantu pushed open the door, threw in the vial and closed the door again. He heard the faint sound of glass breaking. He pressed in the his ear against the door. He heard a guards jump to their hooves at the brief sound of whistling wind and the breaking of glass. Then there were two thumps as the guards fell to the floor. After a ten count to make sure they were out, Bantu opened the door and saw the two guards lying unconscious. He paused and took a sniff before rolling his eyes. Only Galeb would go through the effort of making his sleep mist lavender scented. After checking to make sure the guards were out, he took a good look around. The entire car was one long room and it was filled with crates of various sizes, all on pallets secured to the floor, many of them marked 'fragile'. Now that he took a moment his nose was filled with the scent of purgatory fungus, this was it! Lucky for him none of the boxes were stacked so all he had to do was lift the lids to check their contents. Each pallet had a couple of crates of a single alchemical ingredient, and he picked and chose only the best as he moved down the length of the car, stuffing his sack full. Monk's Hood, might as well be grass. Penance bark, very nice. Purgatory fungus, smelly but useful. Hydra scales, rare and very valuable. Quarry eel saliva, ew, why was that even in here? He was picky as a miser's wife at market day, only taking that which was most valuable or used in the most powerful of potions. As he neared the end of the train car with his sack was bulging with a merchant prince's ransom in alchemical goodies, he came to a section enclosed by steel bars, like a small jail cell. There was only one crate inside and his interest was definitely peaked. Now Bantu was pretty decent with a set of lockpicks but if the alchemists had gone through the effort of putting what was in the chest behind bars then there was a chance the lock might be enchanted to prevent picking. Luckily he had a backup plan. He pulled out a small pouch. He held it in one hoof and started chanting as he waved his other hoof over the top of the bag “Hiyo ni maisha, hiyo ni maisha, kwamba ni nini watu wanasema.” When bag start to vibrate in his hoof, Bantu took a deep breath and poured some dull orange powder into his mouth while humming an off-key tune. The enspelled powder fizzed as it reacted to the saliva let off a gas. Once enough formed in his mouth, he blew on the lock of the cage. He watched with satisfaction as the lock corroded right before his eyes. Rust breath might make your breath smell like you had chugged a gallon of bayou moonshine that had been filtered through used kitty litter but it certainly lived up to it’s name. Finally the lock was so badly rusted that it shattered when he opened the cage and focused his attention on the chest inside. When he finally got the lid open his face was lit up with glee, literally! The inside of the chest was packed with cotton to safeguard its cargo, a half dozen beautiful crafted crystal jars, each filled with a ball of brightly colored flame. Bottled Dragons' Fire! He couldn't believe it, he had hit the jackpot! The dragons only traded a clawful of bottles each year and each was worth a rock farmer's entire yearly gem harvest. You could weave spells into it, brew potions over it for greatly increased potency, burn through almost anything, the stuff had dozens of uses. So long as you kept it safely contained anyway. Bantu couldn’t believe his eyes. He had heard rumours the crown had a stockpile of bottled dragon fire but he didn’t dare hope that any would be packed on the trip. The zebrony weighed his options. A single bottle of dragon’s fire was extremely volatile but worth as much by itself as his entire sack's contents. If he made off with one he would either end up insanely rich or dead in a flame dug crater. The zebrony took one last look before closing the crate. He already enough loot to be set for life, better to quit while he was ahead. He managed to take five steps away from the crate before doing turning back and scrambling to the crate. Yes he had enough loot to be set for life but with a bottle of dragon’s fire, his whole family would have enough to be set for life. Galeb would be able to open his shop and grandmere Zelime would be able have a decent retirement plan for when she was done being the voodoo queen. Sure Galeb had said he wanted to nothing do with this and a voodoo queen’s idea of a retirement plan is cremation but once Bantu had the money then they could sort out the little details. After a slow and tedious process he was able to pry loose one of the bottles. He took one last look at it before wrapping in it in cloth and carefully placing it in his bag. Finally, having realised he had as much as he would be able to carry, Galeb made his way to the exit he had come in through. His exit was thwarted when armored pony tackled him. While Bantu had been focused on opening the chest with the dragon’s fire, one of the guards he’d drugged had come to. He was still groggy and slightly delirious but years of training kicked in and so he lept into action. The two tussled on the ground. Bantu flailed wildly trying break away as the guard tried his best to restrain him. Bantu managed to get a lucky shot in, hitting the guard in the jaw. It was enough to briefly stun the still groggy guard and give the zebrony a chance to get away. Bantu picked up the bag that he had dropped and raced for the door. Once through he slammed it shut. He let out a sigh of relief. Alright, so maybe that wasn’t the cleanest of exits but he had to do was get off the train. The guard he fought was most likely still out of it so by the time he was cognitive enough to alert the other guards Bantu would be long gone. Filled with relieved confidence he casually crossed the junction between cars and entered the next car. As he closed the door he made a startling realisation. That scuffle had cause him to be turned completely around. Rather than going through the door that would lead him back to the mail car, he had gone through opposite door. Now instead he was in a car filled with twenty guards. All of whom were looking right at him. “This is a restricted area,” the nearest guard said. “I am so sorry.” Bantu said, “I was looking for a bathroom and got lost.” The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow. Rather than respond he turned to two nearby guards. “Go find out why Cumulous and Nexus let this vagabond pass them.” “Vagabond?” Bantu asked in dismay. The Lieutenant then took a sniff before turning to two other guards. “Search him, I want to know why he smells like Purgatory.” Realising that there was no way to talk himself out of this one, Bantu was forced to use his last resort. He pulled out his vial and threw it to the ground. It smashed, filling the car with sickly green mist. The guards tried to shield themselves from the mist but it was too late. Their eyes widened as the terror mist took hold. For a minute they all stared wide eyed as their comrades morphed into the demons and monsters of their worst nightmares. Though rather than cower fear. The guards started attacking each other. Any relief Bantu felt slowly faded away as he watched this spectacular brawl unfold. This was clearly not a place he wanted to be as a flying helmet almost brained him. He hastily pushed back through the car door and pulled it closed behind him. Standing on the platforms between the two train cars he took a moment to catch his breath. Which died in he chest as he looked through the door window of the alchemy car and saw the first two guards beginning to get up. He was trapped between two train cars, each containing very dangerous soldiers likely angry with him. He looked around wildly, seeing the drop over mile high cliffs on one side, and an old service road separating the tracks from the mountainside rushing past on the other. Taking only a second more to think he leaped clear of the side of the train, rolling as he hit the rough ground, hard. Bantu got back up and started to dust himself off. He looked around and when he found his bag of loot he hugged it in joy. Sure that might not have been the cleanest of exits but at least he got what he came for. Joy soon turned to confusion when he heard a strange hissing coming out of the bag. “What the…?” His eyes widened in realisation. “The dragon’s fire!” On instinct he hurled the bag as hard as he could over the cliff. Well before the bag hit the ground it exploded. Raining down a fortune's worth of ash and debris. “Well.” Bantu finally said as he watch his plan literally go up in smoke. “This day can’t get any worse.” He then noticed the train grinding to a halt down the track, a distress siren pierced through the relative quiet of the mountain side, followed by a signal flair shooting high into the air. “I stand corrected.” He muttered. He started to make a run for it. He had no doubt that pretty soon a whole army of pegasi would be descending from the top of Mount Canterhorn. He knew there was no way he could out run the royal guards but they would expect him to run away from Canterlot. His best bet would be to run in the direction they didn’t expect and then lie low for a while. Luckily he knew of one pony in Canterlot that would willing to help him. There was loud banging at the door. "I'm coming! I'm coming." A teenage Trixie yelled. . She opened to find an older Bantu standing. He was fully grown, more developed and currently out of breath but he was definitely the same Bantu she remembered. "Trixie! You've got to help me." Trixie took one look at her friend and then stepped to the side to let him in. "Quick, get inside." Gettting derailedTrixie grumbled as she made her way to the castle, her bad mood undoubtedly caused by her unexpected visitor. “So why exactly are you here and why exactly do I need to hide you for the next few days?” “It’s better you don’t know,” Bantu answered. “Better for who exactly?” Trixie shot back. “Look, if you’re in some kind of trouble, I can go the Princess and we can get you protection.” “No!” Bantu exclaimed, causing Trixie to jump in surprise. “Look Trixie, I don’t like doing this but I’m desperate. I am asking you as a friend, just help me out and don’t ask any questions.” Trixie was still skeptical, but looking at the pleading expression on his face soon broke her resolve. “Fine,” she replied. “But you owe me.” So now Trixie had a temporary roommate. If she was honest she wasn’t overly upset. It was good to see Bantu after all this time and and it was sort of nice to have some company. Not that she’d admit that to Bantu. Last thing she needs is him thinking that dropping in when ponies were trying to sleep was an okay thing to do. She was about to enter the castle when a couple of guards blocked her path. “Pass please.” “Oh come on,” Trixie said in dismay. “I enter the castle every day.” “Sorry ma’am, just following protocol,” The guard explained. “A train robber is at large in the city so we are tightening security.” Trixie huffed but after some searching, (and some not-so-nice words from the ponies waiting behind her) she managed to find her pass and show it to the guard. “Have a nice day ma’am,” the guard said as he let her past. “Unlikely.” What a day. Six whole hours spent learning how to set up the bureaucracy of a new territorial province. Her brain ached as much as her empty stomach as she finally sat down in one of the castle’s cafeterias. As Trixie was sitting there eating her sandwich she listened to a unicorn and a pegasus gossiping at a nearby table out of sheer boredom. “It’s terrible what happened to that relief train. So much medicine destroyed and all those guards in the hospital.” “I hear some of the guards affected are claiming that the assailant was brown zebra in a bowler hat.” That caught Trixie’s attention. “A brown zebra?” The unicorn asked, “That’s absurd.” “Not as absurd as you think.” The pegasus replied. “My cousin says that he saw a whole bunch of different coloured zebras when he went on vacation in Neigh Orleans.” “You mean the cousin that got so drunk he ended up marrying a minotaur?” The unicorn asked skeptically. “Hey that marriage has lasted two years and is still going strong. Hey Trixie!” Trixie almost dropped her sandwich, “Er yes?” “You’re from Neigh Orleans. Are there or are there not multicoloured zebra in Neigh Orleans?” Trixie gaped at the two before stuttering, “I-I just remembered I need to go run an errand.” She then ran off, not even realising she had left her sandwich behind. The unicorn gave it a sniff. “Pickles...mayonnaise...bananas?!” After chatting up some off-duty guards about the recent gossip, Trixie paced in an empty hallway. “Come on Trixie, don’t jump to conclusions. Just because some guards claimed to have seen a brown Zebra in a bowler hat doesn’t mean it was Bantu. Coincidences happen. And besides, Bantu is your friend...who turned up in the middle of the night, avoided giving any answers and asked you to help him no questions asked…merde.” Trixie arrived back at her apartment. As she entered she saw Bantu camped in the living room. His clothes were scattered across the floor as he was now wearing her bathrobe. He sat on the couch reading one of Trixie’s books while surrounded by various food scraps of what appeared to have been the entire contents of Trixie’s fridge. She slammed the door behind her to get his attention. “Welcome back, hope you don’t mind but I needed to get the taste of rust breath out of my mouth so I borrowed your toothbrush. Also, are you going grocery shopping anytime soon?” He looked up from the book, “because you're running low on…” He trailed off when he saw the way Trixie was glaring at him. “What?” “Did you attack the relief train?” Trixie cut to the point. Bantu weighed his options. Trixie was the only creature he had never been able to beat at poker so there was a really good chance she would see through a lie. “It wasn’t an attack, things just got out of hoof.” “What exactly were you doing on the relief train when things got ‘Out of hoof’?” “I was just trying to acquire some hard-to get ingredients.” He explained. “It was supposed to be a victimless crime.” “What part of ‘rob a relief train’ do you consider victimless?” Trixie demanded, dismay clearly evident in her voice. “Look, what’s done is done. All that matters now is laying low for a few days until it’s safe for me to grab a train back to Neigh Orleans.” “Bantu, you’ve turned me into an accessory to your crimes. I could get expelled for this.” “And I could go to jail,” he shot back. “I thought you were my friend.” “I am your friend.” “Then you will help me lie low. In a few days I will be back in Neigh Orleans and we’ll go on as if this never happened. Deal?” Bantu held out his hoof, Trixie continued to glare at him. “I’m begging you,” he pleaded. “Help me.” Trixie’s glare softened until finally she lowered her head. “Fine.” “Thank you,” he said before returning to the book. She went into the kitchen, she took in a deep breath as she tried to calm her nerves. Was she really going to do this? Deciding to make a herself a cup of tea while she deliberated, she went to the cupboard. She took her tea but when she went for her favourite mug, it was missing. She scanned the room but then saw it on the ground, smashed. The pieces lay there, no attempt made to clean it up. It had just been left where it had fallen and broken. Knowing she hadn’t broken it, there was only one culprit. He had broken it and not even apologised or tried to clean it up. She could have a stepped on it and gotten hurt. It was such a blatant disregard for her possessions or even her safety. As she cleaned up the broken mug, she got a moment of clarity about what she had to do. Once done she stepped out of the kitchen. “I need to go food shopping,” she said .”I don’t think we have enough for the both of us.” She started to head for the door. “ “Stay here and make sure none of the neighbours see ya.” “Trixie!” Bantu called out, stopping her. He grinned. “You’re a good friend.” She nodded but as she stepped out she muttered to herself, “I try to be.” Trixie stepped into Luna’s study and found the princess in conversation with the captain of the guard. “Sorry Trixie, now is not the best time.” Luna told her student. “Could you come back later?” Despite her desperately wanting to use the excuse to turn tail, Trixie swallowed as she steeled her nerves. “I... I know who attacked the train.” Bantu let out a content sigh as he lounged on Trixie’s couch and took a well-deserved nap. So maybe this whole fiasco didn’t go as planned but looking at the glass as half full, at least he’d tried. Now all that mattered was lying low for a few days before heading home, then he was sure he’d laugh about this someday. He may not be rich but at least he had his health and his freedom. “Ahem.” Bantu opened his eyes, almost falling off the couch in shock. While he had been napping the room had filled with guards. “Mr. Bantu, you will be coming with us.” The lead guard said. “I recommend you come peacefully.” On instinct Bantu tried to reach for something in his jacket only to have his hooves encased in magic and restrained. Now he had a glowing horn and a pair of spears pointed at him. “That was not a request.” The freshly-shackled Zebrony was dragged out by the guards. “This is all some big misunderstanding,” Bantu started. “I’m in town visiting a good friend. Her name is Trixie Lulamoon and she is a personal student to the Princess. Go asked her and she’ll…” Bantu trailed off when he saw a Trixie standing just outside the door. As he saw her expression, it became clear to him how the guards had found him. He was utterly speechless as the guards placed him in the caged wagon. The lead guard approached Trixie. “Thank you for your assistance.” He said as he gave Trixie back her keys. “Just promise me he’ll get a fair trial.” Trixie replied. “I promise,” the guard replied. “Actions aside, your friend is still entitled to all his rights as an Equestrian citizen.” She gave the guard a look of disbelief. “Do you honestly think after all this he’s still my friend?” “It’s probably for the best,” the guard shrugged. “Who would want some crooked Zebra for a friend, anyway.” “He’s a Zebrony!” She snapped at the guard. She left before the guard had a chance to respond. With no more statements to give and the guards having cleared out, Trixie returned to her now empty apartment. It was in the silence that the full weight of her actions came crashing down on her. Doubt crept into her thoughts. This had been the right thing to do, hadn’t it? Of course it had been. If she had been caught aiding a criminal, everything she had worked for would be ruined. Her place in the school, her tutelage under Luna, her dream of creating the House of Lulamoon. All of it would be gone. And even if she hadn’t been caught, could she really have been able to live with herself if she let someone get away with attacking a relief aid train? But still. How was she going to face him again? How could she face his family again? The thoughts of what his family might think or do hit her the hardest. She had accepted losing Bantu’s friendship when she went to Luna but this was also going to cost her Galeb and Zelime as well. Finally, she went to her desk and took out a quill and parchment. She going to write a letter to Bantu’s family to explain her actions and hope that they would be understanding. After an hour she had only managed to write two words. I’m sorry. Author's Note Hi all. Sorry about the delay in getting this posted. This year has been hectic on all fronts. Still I hope you enjoyed. Feel free to let me know what you think. Getting back on trackNot much could be said about Bantu’s trial. Faced with what was incontrovertibly overwhelming evidence against him, he did the only thing he could and pleaded guilty in order to get a reduced sentence. Though reduced sentence was a relative term as he still had 20 cases of indirect assault and a fortune's worth of theft and property damages to answer for. Still, when the alternative was being charged with acts of terror and deemed an enemy of the state, this certainly was the lesser of two evils. And so he arrived at Foalsome prison. Considering the Equestrian legal system was built more on reconciliation and reform rather than punishment, it wasn’t the worst place in world. Inmates were fed, given adequate warmth and shelter as well as opportunities to better themselves. Still it was prison. A plain, grey, stone cage. The first couple of days were rough. Not only was there learning the rules of the place, but being the ‘new guy’ meant that all the inmates were watching him closely. When it became clear he was no threat to the natural order of things, the novelty soon wore off and he was left to his own devices. Soon the days started to blur as the monotony started to set in. Day in and day out, it followed an almost exact routine each day. Get up. Wash. Breakfast. Yard time. Lunch. Afternoon for social interaction and ‘self improvement’. Dinner. Put back to your cell. Bed. Every single day. Soon without even realising it, two weeks had passed and he was told by a guard that he had a visitor. As he was led to the visiting area, he saw Galeb sitting at one of the tables, obviously waiting for him. “What happened?” Galeb asked when Bantu was seated at the table. “What happened is that two-faced snake Trixie betrayed me and my own brother abandoned me.” Bantu grumped. “We could have pulled this off. We could have lived like kings. But when I needed you most, you weren’t there for me. You’re as much to blame as she is!” “I can make this right,” Galeb shot a wary glance at a nearby guard before switching to Prench. “” Bantu looked at his brother skeptically before replying in kind, “” Bantu switched back to Equestrian to speak to the guard. “We’re done here.” The guard approached and released Bantu from the table. “I’ll come see you again soon,” Galeb said. “Don’t do me any favors brother,” Bantu spat the word. “Go back to your little market stall. Or better yet go suck up to Trixie. You are made for each other. I hope the door hits you on the way out.” After a few years, Bantu had gotten a feel for the place and saw some interesting characters. Some mobsters that tried to make it rich kidnapping the Elements of Harmony, a couple of fast talking unicorns who got thrown in solitary almost as soon as they got here, a psychologist that had been unlawfully experimenting on patients with an unethical personality adjustment treatment. Oh, and one truly disturbingly normal murderer. All the worst scum that Equestria had to offer. But unless the only card game you liked to play was solitaire you had to make do. For the most part he kept a low profile. Attacking a relief aid train hadn’t been the worst thing anypony had done to get thrown into Foalsome but it certainly hadn’t made him any friends, so it was best not to draw attention to himself. Not an easy feat for someone like Bantu but he got the hang of it, mostly. Still he wasn’t surprised one day when he was led to the Warden’s office. “Hi Warden,” Bantu said cheerfully as he was led in. “How’s the wife and kids?” “Still non-existent as always,” the warden replied dryly. “A letter came for you.” “Oh? And why did you bring me to your office to tell me that?” “Because it is from Trixie Lulamoon. She wanted me to make sure that you read the letter.” The warden slid the letter over to Bantu. “And seeing as a protege to the Princess and one of Equestria's saviours has made this request you are not leaving that seat until you have read the entire thing.” Not happy but not having any other choice, he read the letter quickly, and then read it again. The letter was a detailed account of his brother Galeb’s criminal actions in Ponyville. An accounting of his premeditated hostility against not only Trixie but an entire town. All in an attempt to avenge his older brother. Bantu was struck dumb by the thoughts of what his quiet little brother had done. In the end he just kept re-reading the letter’s last paragraph. I don't blame you for Galeb's actions. He made his own choices and he must face the consequences for them. However, this does not change the fact that everything he did in Ponyville he did in your name. I have recommended to the judge that you and Galeb be incarcerated together. My hope is that between the two of you there is at least one shred of decency left. We were friends once, that is why I'm giving you this chance. Though make no mistake, this is the last chance you’ll get from me. “I’ll have the guards escort you back to your cell,” The warden stated. “You look like you have some thinking to do.” Bantu had plenty of time to dwell on what the letter had said, as well as figure out what he was going to do about it. A week later, Galeb arrived at Foalsome prison. He was led to his cell by a guard on each side. "It's bad enough I'm stuck in this place," the Zebrony grumbled. "Do I really need to be naked as well? This is just demeaning." The guards remained as stoic as ever but it was clear that they were glad to soon be rid of him. Once they had him in his cell they almost smiled as they shut the door on him. Almost. Galeb turned to face his cellmate. "Look, I don't know what sort of newcomer hazing you had in mind but I'll tell you now..." The blue Zebrony trailed off when he saw who his cellmate was. “Hello, little brother.” “Bantu?! What are you doing here?” Bantu raised an eyebrow. “Considering that this is a prison cell, I think the more pressing question is what you’re doing here.” Galeb looked at the ground in shame. “I’m sorry Bantu, I tried to make things right. I tried to make Lulamoon pay for what she did to you. I just wasn’t able to...” He was cut off by Bantu pulling him into a hug. “No brother, I’m the one that’s sorry. You tried to tell me that it was a bad idea but I wouldn’t listen. I was a fool, and what’s worse I tried to take down friends and family with me.” “But Lulamoon…” “Did what any sane pony would have done in her situation, after I tried to take shameless advantage of her. I was angry and unwilling to accept responsibility. So I convinced myself that she was the one to blame. What’s worse is that I convinced you as well. I deserve to be in here.” Bantu pulled back slightly. “But from what I hear, so do you.” Galeb stepped back out of the hug, developing a scowl. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture.” “Well you’re going to get one. Challenging Trixie to a duel for a title you didn't even want, making a town suffer when she refused, trying to set her on fire?! What makes you think I would have wanted any of that?” Galeb let out out a frustrated snort. “Alright, things got out of hoof. I was trying to make her pay for what she did to you.” “Come on brother, you’re better than this,” Bantu said. “What do you want me to do? Just forget about her and move on with my life?!” Galeb demanded. “I’m in prison because of her!” “That’s what I thought as well but being angry hasn’t gotten either of us anywhere,” Bantu said. “I was wrong to blame you, you knew better and I didn’t listen. And we were both wrong to blame Trixie. It’s time for us to move on. Someday we’re getting out of here, so how about we try to leave better than how we arrived.” Galeb tried to look defiant, but even after all these years Bantu still knew his brother well enough to see when his resolve was starting to weaken. “I don’t think I can just let go like that,” He finally admitted. “We’ve got time,” Bantu said as he pulled Galeb back into a hug. “What matters now is getting my brother back.” Not sure how to respond, Galeb just decided to enjoy being able to hug his brother for the first time in years. Soon tears started to fall. “I’ve missed you so much,” he finally said. “I missed you too,” Bantu said, his own eyes starting to get misty. “Sorry it took so long to admit it.” Galeb let out a tearful chuckle as he pulled back. “Mieux vaut tard que jamais, mon frère,” he paused to really look at his surroundings for the first time. “So what’s the plan?” “Do our time and maybe get early release for good behaviour,” Bantu replied. Galeb pursed his lips. That really wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was obvious Bantu wasn’t interested in an escape attempt. Even if he could pull off a solo escape he wasn’t going to leave without his brother. “Right, so what exactly counts as good behaviour?” “I have no idea but apparently trying to score a date with a member of the medical staff is not considered good behaviour.” “Duly noted.” FIN Author's Note A big thank you to my Co-creator dmgtitan and to my beta wolfstorm56 for all their help in creating this.
All Aboard!TERRIBLE THAUMATURGIC TWO-TONE DISEASE TERRORIZES TRAUMATIZED TROTTINGHAM! After speculation, it has been confirmed that Trottingham has indeed been struck with an outbreak of the dreaded Two-Tone disease. Though the disease is not directly lethal to its victims, its primary symptom of complete color-blindness can cause severe depression and erratic behaviour in those afflicted. Though quarantine methods have proven effective in preventing new cases, a call for aid has been issued to the Night Court. An official statement released by the government says they intend to send relief aid in the form of doctors, alchemists and supplies for mass brewing and distribution of the cure as soon as vital ingredients and personnel can be gathered from Neigh Orleans and Canterlot. Galeb, a robin blue Zebrony with a navy blue stripes and an aquamarine mane, looked at the newspaper that had been dropped in front of him. He looked at the paper for a solid minute before gazing up at his brother sitting across the table. “Whatever you’re planning Bantu, I want no part in this.” Galeb said, pushing the paper away. “Just hear me out.” “I don’t have to,” Galeb replied. “You might be able to read others but I can read you. And just by the look on your face I can already tell I’m not going to like how this story is turning out.” “Just listen, this idea will set us for life.” Galeb suppressed a groan. “Brother, don’t you think it’s time to ease up on these schemes of yours?” The honey brown zebrony’s nose crinkled in disgust. “Excuse me?” “You have been taking dumber risks lately and they haven’t really been paying off.” “So I’ve had a few set backs, no big deal.” Galeb turned round and looked his brother head on. “No big deal? You’ve been banned from three bars and four neighbourhoods. Your sales license in the bazaar has been revoked and you’re one misdemeanour away from being permanently banned. You have at least two griffons out for your blood, which considering they’re carnivores is really not a good place to be and you never even asked what the Bayou Krewe had me do in order to work off your debt to them.” “Hey! I returned the favour on that one.” “Setting me up on a date does not count as returning the favour.” “Well it would have if you had managed to seal the deal.” “The point is that these lofty aspirations of yours are doing more harm than good.” Galeb continued. “At least I have aspirations,” Bantu shot back. “Is this really how you want to live the rest of your life? Pottering away on your little projects here in grandmeres shop? With your talent you could be the next Voodoo King but instead you are wasting your talents.” “I’m wasting my talents?” Galeb scoffed. “If you actually applied yourself you could be just as good as me at voodoo, maybe even better. Instead you spend your time on cons and schemes.” “At least I’m getting somewhere.” Bantu replied. “You are exactly where you have always been. Living in Grandmeres shop, dabbling in your experiments, in your little corner.” Galeb let out an angry snort. “I am making decent money with my stall in the bazaar. Pretty soon I’ll have enough to afford a place of my own.” “You only have that stall because I sweet talked Erzulie into letting you have it.” Galeb rolled his eyes, no one ‘sweet talks’ Erzulie into anything. But he will admit that Bantu had gotten him a decent deal for it. Bantu decided to lighten his approach. “Come on brother, I need you on this. I’m good and you’re decent but together we’re unstoppable.” “Like a freight train off a cliff,” Galeb commented dryly. After a moment of silence he let out a sigh. “Alright fine, I'm listening. Why exactly is a disease in Trottingham an opportunity?" "Because, it means that if there is an outbreak, they are going to need doctors and alchemists and huge quantities of the cure." Galeb let out a snort. "So you want to sell them the cure? Good luck with that. Even if you were good enough at making it, there's no way you'll be able to afford the ingredients. Penance Bark alone is worth a small fortune. That's not even taking into account that the crown has sole buying rights to some of those ingredients. And I am not about to become a snake oil seller." "Exactly, the government is sitting on a princess’s ransom worth of ingredients, stocked away in case of emergencies like this in vaults in Canterlot." "So?" "So, it takes at least two days to get from Canterlot to Trottingham. The Two-Tone Cure is only useable up to four hours after it's been made. Meaning that they need to take the raw ingredients to Trottingham and then mix the cure on site. My friend in the station told me that a notice has been sent out to all the stations, making them reschedule their trains so that several of their trains are rerouted next week, so a train from Canterlot can have a clear track all the way to Trottingham. But a bunch of the more common ingredients are getting shipped from right here in Neigh Orleans." "So a train carrying expensive ingredients will be leaving in a few days. Unless you were planning on robbing the train how is any of this information useful?” Galeb noticed the pointed silence that hung in the air. "Come on Bantu, you cannot be serious." "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity," Bantu replied to his brother. "Just think what we could do with the ingredients that train will be carrying." "What I can't stop thinking about is that you're talking about robbing a train meant to be carrying relief supplies." Galeb shot back. "We'll leave most of it," Bantu argued. "We'll be sure to make that they discover the robbery not too far from Canterlot. The train gets resupplied in no time, the relief supplies go where they need to and we both score big time. Everyone wins." "Except us if this goes wrong," Galeb said. "Sorry Bantu, but I can't be a part of this." Bantu threw up his hooves in dismay. "Fine then." At that the older stallion started to leave. “Where are you going?” Galeb asked. “If you want to let opportunity pass you by that’s your choice.” Bantu shot back. “But this is my chance to make it big and I’m taking it, with or without you.” Shocked, Galeb could only stand there as he watched his brother walk away. Tin Whistle resisted the urge to let out a sigh of boredom. Despite being the conductor in charge of the train that would eventually be carrying relief supplies to an area in need, the Neigh Orleans part of the journey was pretty much like any other train stop, and a particularly boring one at that. Still, it was his duty to ensure that everything ran smoothly. With that said, when he decided to leave his home to be a train conductor, he had hoped his occupation would offer the occasional break in the monotony. As if answering his request, he was brought out of his thoughts when a zebrony appeared in his periphery vision. He was honey brown with a teal mane, roan brown stripes and was busy pulling a large crate on wheels towards one of the luggage cars. Tin Whistle straightened his hat before he began his approach. Once he was in range of the other pony he cleared his throat loudly. “Ahem!” The striped equine looked up at Tin Whistle. “Can I help you?” the conductor asked. “No no, I can load this crate myself,” The zebrony replied as he continued to pull the crate. “It’s not as heavy as it looks.” The zebrony’s progress was halted when Tin Whistle stepped in front of him. “I believe you have the wrong train.” “This is the train headed for Trottingham, isn’t it? I’ve got to get this loaded into the mail car.” The zebrony pointedly tapped on the crate. Tin Whistle raised an eyebrow sceptically. “The mail cart’s already been loaded.” “Yeah but there was a mix-up and this got loaded on the wrong train by mistake.” the zebrony explained. “It almost ended up getting sent to Detrot.” “Well, unless you have a clearance form from the station master, I can’t let that onto the train.” “Of course,” the zebrony pulled out a yellowish piece of paper which he then gave to Tin Whistle. “Here you are.” The conductor looked over the piece of paper and then once he was satisfied he gave it back. “Alright then. Let’s get this loaded on.” Any response the zebrony was about to give was stopped by the sound of a wagon being pushed across the platform. As they looked they saw a mare pushing a cart of various food items across the platform. At the sight of the mare, Tin Whistle stood straighter and puffed his chest out slightly. “Good day, Miss Tulip,” he called out with a tip of the hat. “And to you, Tin Whistle.” Miss Tulip called back. Once she was further along the platform, Tin Whistle returned his attention to the zebrony, who was now wearing a knowing little grin. “You know, I could take care of this myself if you would rather go have a little chat with Miss Tulip.” “Excuse me?” “It’s obvious you like her so why don’t you go have a talk with her before departing. There’s still time.” Tin Whistle looked at the big clock on the platform, There was actually time before he had to do the boarding call and he had all his other jobs finished. After some deliberation he shook his head. “No, that would be highly unprofessional, besides even if I did like her how do I know she would even be interested in somepony like me?” “Well she did remember your name,” the zebrony replied. “Excuse me?” Tin Whistle asked. “I don’t know Miss Tulip but I know of her,” zebrony explained. “She is horrendous at remembering any pony’s names, she barely remembers the names of her siblings. If she’s remembered your name, it’s because she’s either made the effort or you made enough of an impression. Either of those is promising.” The conductor looked in the direction of Miss Tulip and bit his lip slightly. The zebrony gave him playful nudge. “Come on,” he said. “Don’t be so quick to derail this train before it has a chance to leave the station.” Tin Whistle turned back to the zebrony. “The mail car’s the last one before the caboose. If you have any issues loading it, ask one of the porters to help you.” The two then separated. Bantu in the direction of mail car, Tin Whistle in direction of Miss Tulip. Bantu was able to get the crate loaded and secure in the mail car with little difficulty. Just as he finished, the door connecting the mail car to the caboose opened up to reveal a stern and portly stallion. “Oi! What are you doing here?” He demanded. Bantu took on an air of professional detachment. “That’s funny, I was going to ask you the same question, this is a restricted access area.” “The name’s Pufferbelly.” The pony replied. “I work the caboose. Who the blue blazes are you?” “I’m Red Tape,” Bantu replied. “I work for the Equestrian Postal Service as part of Internal Affairs.” “Internal Affairs?” “That’s what I said. We had a tip that some of the local post ponies have been using postal cars as a means of smuggling contraband. I have been asked to discreetly inspect all mail cars that stop here in Neigh Orleans.” Bantu gave the yellow piece of paper to Pufferbelly. “Here is my warrant, granting me access to any mail car in this station.” Pufferbelly looked over the piece of paper before giving it back. “I wasn’t told about any inspection.” “That was intentional,” Bantu explained. “There has been doubt cast on the source of our intel. Not enough to dismiss it but enough that we want further proof before formally charging anypony. Notifying ponies of the inspection could tip off any guilty party or get innocent workers caught in the crossfire.” Bantu gave Pufferbelly a hard look. “Can I count on your discretion?” Pufferbelly let out a disapproving huff. “This is a waste of time. I know every mail pony that works the lines and they’re all honest hard working ponies.” “You’re probably right but I still need to investigate, if only to prove their innocence. I only need about 10 minutes of privacy to scan through to mail car then I’ll move on.” Pufferbelly sized up the zebrony before turning to leave. “I need to go run final checks on the caboose before we leave. Don’t be here when I get back.” Bantu maintained his profession demeanour right until the door of the mail car closed and he was alone. He glanced down at that the yellow paper before reading it. It was actually mostly blank with a few magic symbols on it. He may not be as versatile with voodoo as his brother was but if there was one trick he was particularly good at, it was spell paper. He opened a false panel on the side of the crate and climbed inside. Once he was inside and comfortable he pulled out a small vial filled with potion. While hiding out in a crate in the mail car was the best way to avoid detection it did have a few setbacks, namely trying to make the whole trip to Canterlot without food, water, bathroom breaks or even the ability to properly stretch his legs. Luckily he had managed to get a good deal on a decent hibernation potion. He had enough measured out so it would knock him out for the duration of the trip from Neigh Orleans to Canterlot, meaning he would be able to hide out in the crate with no difficulty and then wake up in time to get the job done. He downed the contents of the vial and then lay down as it started to take effect. As he drifted into unconsciousness he spared a final thought to how rich he was going to be when all this was over.
A bumpy rideTin Whistle approached a couple of attendants that were on break. “Sorry to bother,” he said in pleasant tone. “Just wanted to check that everything was going alright with the passengers.” “Right as rain,” the first attendant replied. “Most of the passengers are itching to get to work in Trottingham but the whole trip’s been without incident.” “Wonderful to hear,” Tin Whistle checked his watch. “I’ve spoken to the engineer and we are on schedule. When you finish your break you can let the passengers know we’ll be arriving at Canterlot within the next 3 hours.” “Will do.” The second attendant replied. At that Tin Whistle walked off, whistling a happy tune. “Is it me or has Tin Whistle been in an incredibly good mood since we left Neigh Orleans?” The first attendant asked. “Word is that he finally got the nerve to talk to that food cart mare he’s been sweet on,” the second attendant explained. “Really? Good for him.” Bantu groaned as he gained consciousness. It was a slow process trying to shake loose all of the cobwebs in his mind. One of the downsides of the hibernation potion was that waking back up took much longer than usual. The constipation also was unwanted but would work itself out eventually. Finally he was able to get his bearings. He was still inside his crate which was a good start. Light was shining through the small openings of the crate so he could assume it was daytime. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his watch. It was a keepsake from one of his more successful card playing nights. His opponent might have had a terrible poker face but he had excellent taste in watches. Not only was it finely made, it also had a small display on the face that kept track of the date in addition to keeping track of the time. According to his watch, he had woken up a couple of hours before the train was scheduled to arrive in Canterlot. By way the way the train was inclining, Bantu assumed that the train was still on schedule. This was both a good and bad thing. It was good because it meant that he had not missed his opportunity and by the time he had to act the hibernation potion would be completely out of his system. It was bad because it meant he was now trapped inside the crate for a couple of hours since he couldn’t risk getting out of it until after the train left Canterlot station. So, with no better option, he put on his lucky bowler hat, making sure none of the feathers had been bent in the trip, and pulled out a deck of cards. He then proceeded to play solitaire in order to pass the time. In hindsight, a book might have been a better idea. The Canterlot station mistress put down the book she had been reading when she heard a train noisily announce its arrival. Stepping out of her office she saw that it was the train from Neigh Orleans. She checked her watch. “They completely disrupted my schedule but at least they’re on time.” She grumbled. The station mistress hated relief trains. While she could sympathise with the plight of Trottingham and was on some level grateful to live in a nation that was so quick in sending aid to those in need, she definitely could do without the headache that organising a relief train took. Being station mistress in the nation’s capital was hard enough work, she didn’t also need all the logistical trouble of clearing the lines whenever a relief train needed to be sent out. Still she was master of this station and she was going to show these goons in the royal guard how the railway got things done. She then noticed a pegasus in armour approaching her. “Speak of Discord and he will appear,” she muttered before greeting the newcomer. “Hello again Lieutenant Hope, I trust everything is on schedule.” Lieutenant Forlorn Hope was always the one put in charge of making sure relief supplies made it safely from storage to the station. “Actually I’m Lieutenant Nimbostratus,” The pegasus replied. “Lieutenant Hope got transferred to Cloudsdale.” The station mistress gave a shrug. “You military types all look alike to me.” “Indeed,” The pegasus replied, his face neutral. “Well to answer your question, yes, everything is on schedule. However there are changes to the train layout that you need to sign off on.” He held out an inventory sheet. The station mistress looked it over. “You’re adding another storage car and another passenger car. Who approved this?!!” “The princess did,” Nimbostratus explained. “The night court ruled last night to add financial aid to the shipment. We need the extra passenger car to house the extra security.” “Fine,” the station mistress said with a huff as she signed off the new inventory. “Let’s just get this sorted.” Once all passengers had disembarked from the train and told to be ready to board in an hour, the railroad, military and relief personnel got to work. The brake van was removed so that two more storage cars and a passenger car for the guards could be added onto the train. Once connected, the caboose was reattached and they got to work loading the supplies. First the basic relief supplies were loaded on, followed by the more specialised ingredients from the alchemist vaults. Lastly the relief funds from the treasury was loaded on along with the added security to protect it. Once all this was done the passengers, both the ones from Neigh Orleans and the ones the joining on from Canterlot, climbed back aboard. After one final whistle the train departed. The station mistress watched as the train left before returning to her office, hoping that the rest of her day would be without incident. The whistle and the movement of the train was enough to jerk Bantu awake. When he got tired of solitaire he decided on a nap to work out the remainder of the hibernation potion. Finally he climbed out of his crate. It was time to get to work. First thing he needed to do was find the car that was holding the good stuff. He assumed that it would one of the end cars but he had no way of knowing for sure beforehand. Luckily he knew for certain that one of the key ingredients for the cure is a rare type of fungus most commonly known as purgatory. Now purgatory has a very distinctive smell but it is illegal for anypony aside from crown endorsed alchemists to be in possession of it. This means that any purgatory on the train would have to have come from the alchemical vaults. And seeing as the alchemists would keep all their high ticket items in one place, once Bantu found the purgatory, he’d find the motherload. Unfortunately because this was a moving train with the cars separate, he probably won’t be able to get a whiff of purgatory until he was at the right car so it means he still would need to check each car until he found the right one. Alright so maybe not every part of this plan was as well thought out. He had honestly planned on Galeb having an idea of tracking the car carrying the good stuff. Still he was here now and as the saying goes, in for a jangle, in for a bit. Deciding to go with his gut, he headed to the exit that led to the end of the train. As he opened the door he was assaulted with the rushing wind. He crossed to platforms connecting the car. He paused for a minute to look to the side, seeing a spectacular view of the land rushing past him … at the bottom of a tremendous cliff. He gulped and moved to the other car, looking through the door window he saw two guards sitting at a small table. He briefly considered going around them somehow before he noticed the rows and rows of crates behind them. He had to check this car. Now was when things got tricky. Bantu was no match for even one of the royal guard, much less two. His spell paper was also not going to be much help since for it to have an effect there has to be at least a shred of credibility to whatever story he’s telling in the eyes of target. Luckily he had brought some backup plans. He checked his pockets for some of the vials that he had “borrowed” from his brother. The black-topped one was his last resort if things went sideways, the green and blue tops were what he needed right now. He opened the green-topped vial and drank its contents. It tasted like rotten bananas and it made his lips numb but it protected him from what was in the other vials, at least for a few hours. Bantu pushed open the door, threw in the vial and closed the door again. He heard the faint sound of glass breaking. He pressed in the his ear against the door. He heard a guards jump to their hooves at the brief sound of whistling wind and the breaking of glass. Then there were two thumps as the guards fell to the floor. After a ten count to make sure they were out, Bantu opened the door and saw the two guards lying unconscious. He paused and took a sniff before rolling his eyes. Only Galeb would go through the effort of making his sleep mist lavender scented. After checking to make sure the guards were out, he took a good look around. The entire car was one long room and it was filled with crates of various sizes, all on pallets secured to the floor, many of them marked 'fragile'. Now that he took a moment his nose was filled with the scent of purgatory fungus, this was it! Lucky for him none of the boxes were stacked so all he had to do was lift the lids to check their contents. Each pallet had a couple of crates of a single alchemical ingredient, and he picked and chose only the best as he moved down the length of the car, stuffing his sack full. Monk's Hood, might as well be grass. Penance bark, very nice. Purgatory fungus, smelly but useful. Hydra scales, rare and very valuable. Quarry eel saliva, ew, why was that even in here? He was picky as a miser's wife at market day, only taking that which was most valuable or used in the most powerful of potions. As he neared the end of the train car with his sack was bulging with a merchant prince's ransom in alchemical goodies, he came to a section enclosed by steel bars, like a small jail cell. There was only one crate inside and his interest was definitely peaked. Now Bantu was pretty decent with a set of lockpicks but if the alchemists had gone through the effort of putting what was in the chest behind bars then there was a chance the lock might be enchanted to prevent picking. Luckily he had a backup plan. He pulled out a small pouch. He held it in one hoof and started chanting as he waved his other hoof over the top of the bag “Hiyo ni maisha, hiyo ni maisha, kwamba ni nini watu wanasema.” When bag start to vibrate in his hoof, Bantu took a deep breath and poured some dull orange powder into his mouth while humming an off-key tune. The enspelled powder fizzed as it reacted to the saliva let off a gas. Once enough formed in his mouth, he blew on the lock of the cage. He watched with satisfaction as the lock corroded right before his eyes. Rust breath might make your breath smell like you had chugged a gallon of bayou moonshine that had been filtered through used kitty litter but it certainly lived up to it’s name. Finally the lock was so badly rusted that it shattered when he opened the cage and focused his attention on the chest inside. When he finally got the lid open his face was lit up with glee, literally! The inside of the chest was packed with cotton to safeguard its cargo, a half dozen beautiful crafted crystal jars, each filled with a ball of brightly colored flame. Bottled Dragons' Fire! He couldn't believe it, he had hit the jackpot! The dragons only traded a clawful of bottles each year and each was worth a rock farmer's entire yearly gem harvest. You could weave spells into it, brew potions over it for greatly increased potency, burn through almost anything, the stuff had dozens of uses. So long as you kept it safely contained anyway. Bantu couldn’t believe his eyes. He had heard rumours the crown had a stockpile of bottled dragon fire but he didn’t dare hope that any would be packed on the trip. The zebrony weighed his options. A single bottle of dragon’s fire was extremely volatile but worth as much by itself as his entire sack's contents. If he made off with one he would either end up insanely rich or dead in a flame dug crater. The zebrony took one last look before closing the crate. He already enough loot to be set for life, better to quit while he was ahead. He managed to take five steps away from the crate before doing turning back and scrambling to the crate. Yes he had enough loot to be set for life but with a bottle of dragon’s fire, his whole family would have enough to be set for life. Galeb would be able to open his shop and grandmere Zelime would be able have a decent retirement plan for when she was done being the voodoo queen. Sure Galeb had said he wanted to nothing do with this and a voodoo queen’s idea of a retirement plan is cremation but once Bantu had the money then they could sort out the little details. After a slow and tedious process he was able to pry loose one of the bottles. He took one last look at it before wrapping in it in cloth and carefully placing it in his bag. Finally, having realised he had as much as he would be able to carry, Galeb made his way to the exit he had come in through. His exit was thwarted when armored pony tackled him. While Bantu had been focused on opening the chest with the dragon’s fire, one of the guards he’d drugged had come to. He was still groggy and slightly delirious but years of training kicked in and so he lept into action. The two tussled on the ground. Bantu flailed wildly trying break away as the guard tried his best to restrain him. Bantu managed to get a lucky shot in, hitting the guard in the jaw. It was enough to briefly stun the still groggy guard and give the zebrony a chance to get away. Bantu picked up the bag that he had dropped and raced for the door. Once through he slammed it shut. He let out a sigh of relief. Alright, so maybe that wasn’t the cleanest of exits but he had to do was get off the train. The guard he fought was most likely still out of it so by the time he was cognitive enough to alert the other guards Bantu would be long gone. Filled with relieved confidence he casually crossed the junction between cars and entered the next car. As he closed the door he made a startling realisation. That scuffle had cause him to be turned completely around. Rather than going through the door that would lead him back to the mail car, he had gone through opposite door. Now instead he was in a car filled with twenty guards. All of whom were looking right at him. “This is a restricted area,” the nearest guard said. “I am so sorry.” Bantu said, “I was looking for a bathroom and got lost.” The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow. Rather than respond he turned to two nearby guards. “Go find out why Cumulous and Nexus let this vagabond pass them.” “Vagabond?” Bantu asked in dismay. The Lieutenant then took a sniff before turning to two other guards. “Search him, I want to know why he smells like Purgatory.” Realising that there was no way to talk himself out of this one, Bantu was forced to use his last resort. He pulled out his vial and threw it to the ground. It smashed, filling the car with sickly green mist. The guards tried to shield themselves from the mist but it was too late. Their eyes widened as the terror mist took hold. For a minute they all stared wide eyed as their comrades morphed into the demons and monsters of their worst nightmares. Though rather than cower fear. The guards started attacking each other. Any relief Bantu felt slowly faded away as he watched this spectacular brawl unfold. This was clearly not a place he wanted to be as a flying helmet almost brained him. He hastily pushed back through the car door and pulled it closed behind him. Standing on the platforms between the two train cars he took a moment to catch his breath. Which died in he chest as he looked through the door window of the alchemy car and saw the first two guards beginning to get up. He was trapped between two train cars, each containing very dangerous soldiers likely angry with him. He looked around wildly, seeing the drop over mile high cliffs on one side, and an old service road separating the tracks from the mountainside rushing past on the other. Taking only a second more to think he leaped clear of the side of the train, rolling as he hit the rough ground, hard. Bantu got back up and started to dust himself off. He looked around and when he found his bag of loot he hugged it in joy. Sure that might not have been the cleanest of exits but at least he got what he came for. Joy soon turned to confusion when he heard a strange hissing coming out of the bag. “What the…?” His eyes widened in realisation. “The dragon’s fire!” On instinct he hurled the bag as hard as he could over the cliff. Well before the bag hit the ground it exploded. Raining down a fortune's worth of ash and debris. “Well.” Bantu finally said as he watch his plan literally go up in smoke. “This day can’t get any worse.” He then noticed the train grinding to a halt down the track, a distress siren pierced through the relative quiet of the mountain side, followed by a signal flair shooting high into the air. “I stand corrected.” He muttered. He started to make a run for it. He had no doubt that pretty soon a whole army of pegasi would be descending from the top of Mount Canterhorn. He knew there was no way he could out run the royal guards but they would expect him to run away from Canterlot. His best bet would be to run in the direction they didn’t expect and then lie low for a while. Luckily he knew of one pony in Canterlot that would willing to help him. There was loud banging at the door. "I'm coming! I'm coming." A teenage Trixie yelled. . She opened to find an older Bantu standing. He was fully grown, more developed and currently out of breath but he was definitely the same Bantu she remembered. "Trixie! You've got to help me." Trixie took one look at her friend and then stepped to the side to let him in. "Quick, get inside."
Gettting derailedTrixie grumbled as she made her way to the castle, her bad mood undoubtedly caused by her unexpected visitor. “So why exactly are you here and why exactly do I need to hide you for the next few days?” “It’s better you don’t know,” Bantu answered. “Better for who exactly?” Trixie shot back. “Look, if you’re in some kind of trouble, I can go the Princess and we can get you protection.” “No!” Bantu exclaimed, causing Trixie to jump in surprise. “Look Trixie, I don’t like doing this but I’m desperate. I am asking you as a friend, just help me out and don’t ask any questions.” Trixie was still skeptical, but looking at the pleading expression on his face soon broke her resolve. “Fine,” she replied. “But you owe me.” So now Trixie had a temporary roommate. If she was honest she wasn’t overly upset. It was good to see Bantu after all this time and and it was sort of nice to have some company. Not that she’d admit that to Bantu. Last thing she needs is him thinking that dropping in when ponies were trying to sleep was an okay thing to do. She was about to enter the castle when a couple of guards blocked her path. “Pass please.” “Oh come on,” Trixie said in dismay. “I enter the castle every day.” “Sorry ma’am, just following protocol,” The guard explained. “A train robber is at large in the city so we are tightening security.” Trixie huffed but after some searching, (and some not-so-nice words from the ponies waiting behind her) she managed to find her pass and show it to the guard. “Have a nice day ma’am,” the guard said as he let her past. “Unlikely.” What a day. Six whole hours spent learning how to set up the bureaucracy of a new territorial province. Her brain ached as much as her empty stomach as she finally sat down in one of the castle’s cafeterias. As Trixie was sitting there eating her sandwich she listened to a unicorn and a pegasus gossiping at a nearby table out of sheer boredom. “It’s terrible what happened to that relief train. So much medicine destroyed and all those guards in the hospital.” “I hear some of the guards affected are claiming that the assailant was brown zebra in a bowler hat.” That caught Trixie’s attention. “A brown zebra?” The unicorn asked, “That’s absurd.” “Not as absurd as you think.” The pegasus replied. “My cousin says that he saw a whole bunch of different coloured zebras when he went on vacation in Neigh Orleans.” “You mean the cousin that got so drunk he ended up marrying a minotaur?” The unicorn asked skeptically. “Hey that marriage has lasted two years and is still going strong. Hey Trixie!” Trixie almost dropped her sandwich, “Er yes?” “You’re from Neigh Orleans. Are there or are there not multicoloured zebra in Neigh Orleans?” Trixie gaped at the two before stuttering, “I-I just remembered I need to go run an errand.” She then ran off, not even realising she had left her sandwich behind. The unicorn gave it a sniff. “Pickles...mayonnaise...bananas?!” After chatting up some off-duty guards about the recent gossip, Trixie paced in an empty hallway. “Come on Trixie, don’t jump to conclusions. Just because some guards claimed to have seen a brown Zebra in a bowler hat doesn’t mean it was Bantu. Coincidences happen. And besides, Bantu is your friend...who turned up in the middle of the night, avoided giving any answers and asked you to help him no questions asked…merde.” Trixie arrived back at her apartment. As she entered she saw Bantu camped in the living room. His clothes were scattered across the floor as he was now wearing her bathrobe. He sat on the couch reading one of Trixie’s books while surrounded by various food scraps of what appeared to have been the entire contents of Trixie’s fridge. She slammed the door behind her to get his attention. “Welcome back, hope you don’t mind but I needed to get the taste of rust breath out of my mouth so I borrowed your toothbrush. Also, are you going grocery shopping anytime soon?” He looked up from the book, “because you're running low on…” He trailed off when he saw the way Trixie was glaring at him. “What?” “Did you attack the relief train?” Trixie cut to the point. Bantu weighed his options. Trixie was the only creature he had never been able to beat at poker so there was a really good chance she would see through a lie. “It wasn’t an attack, things just got out of hoof.” “What exactly were you doing on the relief train when things got ‘Out of hoof’?” “I was just trying to acquire some hard-to get ingredients.” He explained. “It was supposed to be a victimless crime.” “What part of ‘rob a relief train’ do you consider victimless?” Trixie demanded, dismay clearly evident in her voice. “Look, what’s done is done. All that matters now is laying low for a few days until it’s safe for me to grab a train back to Neigh Orleans.” “Bantu, you’ve turned me into an accessory to your crimes. I could get expelled for this.” “And I could go to jail,” he shot back. “I thought you were my friend.” “I am your friend.” “Then you will help me lie low. In a few days I will be back in Neigh Orleans and we’ll go on as if this never happened. Deal?” Bantu held out his hoof, Trixie continued to glare at him. “I’m begging you,” he pleaded. “Help me.” Trixie’s glare softened until finally she lowered her head. “Fine.” “Thank you,” he said before returning to the book. She went into the kitchen, she took in a deep breath as she tried to calm her nerves. Was she really going to do this? Deciding to make a herself a cup of tea while she deliberated, she went to the cupboard. She took her tea but when she went for her favourite mug, it was missing. She scanned the room but then saw it on the ground, smashed. The pieces lay there, no attempt made to clean it up. It had just been left where it had fallen and broken. Knowing she hadn’t broken it, there was only one culprit. He had broken it and not even apologised or tried to clean it up. She could have a stepped on it and gotten hurt. It was such a blatant disregard for her possessions or even her safety. As she cleaned up the broken mug, she got a moment of clarity about what she had to do. Once done she stepped out of the kitchen. “I need to go food shopping,” she said .”I don’t think we have enough for the both of us.” She started to head for the door. “ “Stay here and make sure none of the neighbours see ya.” “Trixie!” Bantu called out, stopping her. He grinned. “You’re a good friend.” She nodded but as she stepped out she muttered to herself, “I try to be.” Trixie stepped into Luna’s study and found the princess in conversation with the captain of the guard. “Sorry Trixie, now is not the best time.” Luna told her student. “Could you come back later?” Despite her desperately wanting to use the excuse to turn tail, Trixie swallowed as she steeled her nerves. “I... I know who attacked the train.” Bantu let out a content sigh as he lounged on Trixie’s couch and took a well-deserved nap. So maybe this whole fiasco didn’t go as planned but looking at the glass as half full, at least he’d tried. Now all that mattered was lying low for a few days before heading home, then he was sure he’d laugh about this someday. He may not be rich but at least he had his health and his freedom. “Ahem.” Bantu opened his eyes, almost falling off the couch in shock. While he had been napping the room had filled with guards. “Mr. Bantu, you will be coming with us.” The lead guard said. “I recommend you come peacefully.” On instinct Bantu tried to reach for something in his jacket only to have his hooves encased in magic and restrained. Now he had a glowing horn and a pair of spears pointed at him. “That was not a request.” The freshly-shackled Zebrony was dragged out by the guards. “This is all some big misunderstanding,” Bantu started. “I’m in town visiting a good friend. Her name is Trixie Lulamoon and she is a personal student to the Princess. Go asked her and she’ll…” Bantu trailed off when he saw a Trixie standing just outside the door. As he saw her expression, it became clear to him how the guards had found him. He was utterly speechless as the guards placed him in the caged wagon. The lead guard approached Trixie. “Thank you for your assistance.” He said as he gave Trixie back her keys. “Just promise me he’ll get a fair trial.” Trixie replied. “I promise,” the guard replied. “Actions aside, your friend is still entitled to all his rights as an Equestrian citizen.” She gave the guard a look of disbelief. “Do you honestly think after all this he’s still my friend?” “It’s probably for the best,” the guard shrugged. “Who would want some crooked Zebra for a friend, anyway.” “He’s a Zebrony!” She snapped at the guard. She left before the guard had a chance to respond. With no more statements to give and the guards having cleared out, Trixie returned to her now empty apartment. It was in the silence that the full weight of her actions came crashing down on her. Doubt crept into her thoughts. This had been the right thing to do, hadn’t it? Of course it had been. If she had been caught aiding a criminal, everything she had worked for would be ruined. Her place in the school, her tutelage under Luna, her dream of creating the House of Lulamoon. All of it would be gone. And even if she hadn’t been caught, could she really have been able to live with herself if she let someone get away with attacking a relief aid train? But still. How was she going to face him again? How could she face his family again? The thoughts of what his family might think or do hit her the hardest. She had accepted losing Bantu’s friendship when she went to Luna but this was also going to cost her Galeb and Zelime as well. Finally, she went to her desk and took out a quill and parchment. She going to write a letter to Bantu’s family to explain her actions and hope that they would be understanding. After an hour she had only managed to write two words. I’m sorry. Author's Note Hi all. Sorry about the delay in getting this posted. This year has been hectic on all fronts. Still I hope you enjoyed. Feel free to let me know what you think.
Getting back on trackNot much could be said about Bantu’s trial. Faced with what was incontrovertibly overwhelming evidence against him, he did the only thing he could and pleaded guilty in order to get a reduced sentence. Though reduced sentence was a relative term as he still had 20 cases of indirect assault and a fortune's worth of theft and property damages to answer for. Still, when the alternative was being charged with acts of terror and deemed an enemy of the state, this certainly was the lesser of two evils. And so he arrived at Foalsome prison. Considering the Equestrian legal system was built more on reconciliation and reform rather than punishment, it wasn’t the worst place in world. Inmates were fed, given adequate warmth and shelter as well as opportunities to better themselves. Still it was prison. A plain, grey, stone cage. The first couple of days were rough. Not only was there learning the rules of the place, but being the ‘new guy’ meant that all the inmates were watching him closely. When it became clear he was no threat to the natural order of things, the novelty soon wore off and he was left to his own devices. Soon the days started to blur as the monotony started to set in. Day in and day out, it followed an almost exact routine each day. Get up. Wash. Breakfast. Yard time. Lunch. Afternoon for social interaction and ‘self improvement’. Dinner. Put back to your cell. Bed. Every single day. Soon without even realising it, two weeks had passed and he was told by a guard that he had a visitor. As he was led to the visiting area, he saw Galeb sitting at one of the tables, obviously waiting for him. “What happened?” Galeb asked when Bantu was seated at the table. “What happened is that two-faced snake Trixie betrayed me and my own brother abandoned me.” Bantu grumped. “We could have pulled this off. We could have lived like kings. But when I needed you most, you weren’t there for me. You’re as much to blame as she is!” “I can make this right,” Galeb shot a wary glance at a nearby guard before switching to Prench. “” Bantu looked at his brother skeptically before replying in kind, “” Bantu switched back to Equestrian to speak to the guard. “We’re done here.” The guard approached and released Bantu from the table. “I’ll come see you again soon,” Galeb said. “Don’t do me any favors brother,” Bantu spat the word. “Go back to your little market stall. Or better yet go suck up to Trixie. You are made for each other. I hope the door hits you on the way out.” After a few years, Bantu had gotten a feel for the place and saw some interesting characters. Some mobsters that tried to make it rich kidnapping the Elements of Harmony, a couple of fast talking unicorns who got thrown in solitary almost as soon as they got here, a psychologist that had been unlawfully experimenting on patients with an unethical personality adjustment treatment. Oh, and one truly disturbingly normal murderer. All the worst scum that Equestria had to offer. But unless the only card game you liked to play was solitaire you had to make do. For the most part he kept a low profile. Attacking a relief aid train hadn’t been the worst thing anypony had done to get thrown into Foalsome but it certainly hadn’t made him any friends, so it was best not to draw attention to himself. Not an easy feat for someone like Bantu but he got the hang of it, mostly. Still he wasn’t surprised one day when he was led to the Warden’s office. “Hi Warden,” Bantu said cheerfully as he was led in. “How’s the wife and kids?” “Still non-existent as always,” the warden replied dryly. “A letter came for you.” “Oh? And why did you bring me to your office to tell me that?” “Because it is from Trixie Lulamoon. She wanted me to make sure that you read the letter.” The warden slid the letter over to Bantu. “And seeing as a protege to the Princess and one of Equestria's saviours has made this request you are not leaving that seat until you have read the entire thing.” Not happy but not having any other choice, he read the letter quickly, and then read it again. The letter was a detailed account of his brother Galeb’s criminal actions in Ponyville. An accounting of his premeditated hostility against not only Trixie but an entire town. All in an attempt to avenge his older brother. Bantu was struck dumb by the thoughts of what his quiet little brother had done. In the end he just kept re-reading the letter’s last paragraph. I don't blame you for Galeb's actions. He made his own choices and he must face the consequences for them. However, this does not change the fact that everything he did in Ponyville he did in your name. I have recommended to the judge that you and Galeb be incarcerated together. My hope is that between the two of you there is at least one shred of decency left. We were friends once, that is why I'm giving you this chance. Though make no mistake, this is the last chance you’ll get from me. “I’ll have the guards escort you back to your cell,” The warden stated. “You look like you have some thinking to do.” Bantu had plenty of time to dwell on what the letter had said, as well as figure out what he was going to do about it. A week later, Galeb arrived at Foalsome prison. He was led to his cell by a guard on each side. "It's bad enough I'm stuck in this place," the Zebrony grumbled. "Do I really need to be naked as well? This is just demeaning." The guards remained as stoic as ever but it was clear that they were glad to soon be rid of him. Once they had him in his cell they almost smiled as they shut the door on him. Almost. Galeb turned to face his cellmate. "Look, I don't know what sort of newcomer hazing you had in mind but I'll tell you now..." The blue Zebrony trailed off when he saw who his cellmate was. “Hello, little brother.” “Bantu?! What are you doing here?” Bantu raised an eyebrow. “Considering that this is a prison cell, I think the more pressing question is what you’re doing here.” Galeb looked at the ground in shame. “I’m sorry Bantu, I tried to make things right. I tried to make Lulamoon pay for what she did to you. I just wasn’t able to...” He was cut off by Bantu pulling him into a hug. “No brother, I’m the one that’s sorry. You tried to tell me that it was a bad idea but I wouldn’t listen. I was a fool, and what’s worse I tried to take down friends and family with me.” “But Lulamoon…” “Did what any sane pony would have done in her situation, after I tried to take shameless advantage of her. I was angry and unwilling to accept responsibility. So I convinced myself that she was the one to blame. What’s worse is that I convinced you as well. I deserve to be in here.” Bantu pulled back slightly. “But from what I hear, so do you.” Galeb stepped back out of the hug, developing a scowl. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture.” “Well you’re going to get one. Challenging Trixie to a duel for a title you didn't even want, making a town suffer when she refused, trying to set her on fire?! What makes you think I would have wanted any of that?” Galeb let out out a frustrated snort. “Alright, things got out of hoof. I was trying to make her pay for what she did to you.” “Come on brother, you’re better than this,” Bantu said. “What do you want me to do? Just forget about her and move on with my life?!” Galeb demanded. “I’m in prison because of her!” “That’s what I thought as well but being angry hasn’t gotten either of us anywhere,” Bantu said. “I was wrong to blame you, you knew better and I didn’t listen. And we were both wrong to blame Trixie. It’s time for us to move on. Someday we’re getting out of here, so how about we try to leave better than how we arrived.” Galeb tried to look defiant, but even after all these years Bantu still knew his brother well enough to see when his resolve was starting to weaken. “I don’t think I can just let go like that,” He finally admitted. “We’ve got time,” Bantu said as he pulled Galeb back into a hug. “What matters now is getting my brother back.” Not sure how to respond, Galeb just decided to enjoy being able to hug his brother for the first time in years. Soon tears started to fall. “I’ve missed you so much,” he finally said. “I missed you too,” Bantu said, his own eyes starting to get misty. “Sorry it took so long to admit it.” Galeb let out a tearful chuckle as he pulled back. “Mieux vaut tard que jamais, mon frère,” he paused to really look at his surroundings for the first time. “So what’s the plan?” “Do our time and maybe get early release for good behaviour,” Bantu replied. Galeb pursed his lips. That really wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was obvious Bantu wasn’t interested in an escape attempt. Even if he could pull off a solo escape he wasn’t going to leave without his brother. “Right, so what exactly counts as good behaviour?” “I have no idea but apparently trying to score a date with a member of the medical staff is not considered good behaviour.” “Duly noted.” FIN Author's Note A big thank you to my Co-creator dmgtitan and to my beta wolfstorm56 for all their help in creating this.
