The Coming Crusade

“How much longer?”

“Almost done.”  The silence was deafening, as the saying goes.  The bright light of the welder quiet as Applebloom cut away the last of the grasp-locks on the container.  “You know, this kinda looks like piracy if y'all know what ah mean.”

“Not this again... it's a derelict freighter and in unclaimed space.  Salvage, Applebloom, it's called salvage.”

“Salvage that could get us blasted if we got caught an all.  Aight, Sweetie clamp this one and let's get'atta here.”  The tether slipped past Applebloom and hit the container, snatching it away from the floating hulk and instantly retracted it.  Firing her boosters, the young pony flew back towards the ship just as the last of the “salvage” was pulled inside the CM Crusader's cargo bay.  The gunship came up quickly as she hit the remote access on the airlock.  Landing solid and safe inside she used a hind leg to kick the close switch and seal herself inside.  “Ah'm inside, punch it Scootaloo!  Fore any unfriendly guests come a knockin!”

The Crusader's engines burst to life and the gunship pulled away from the wreckage.  It hadn't been the culprit to tear the transport apart, but its crew was never one to turn away a shot at free salvage.  Inside, Applebloom trotted out of the airlock and dropped her helmet beside the EVA lockers as she made tracks to the cockpit.  The suit took too long to take off for her to ditch it just yet.  The single main hallway made that all the easier for her, nothing like the old Halter class junk-piles she was used to.

Stepping through the bulkhead, Applebloom was greeted with a simple nod from Scootaloo as she had her hooves firmly against the pressure sticks.  “Flyin manual again, Scoot?”

“Feels more natural.”

“Where's Sweetie?”

“Where else, in the cargo hold.  Three whole containers, that's a haul.  She's probably swimming in it.”

“Ah know.  Maybe this time we can buy those parts the wink-drive engine needs so next time we use it ah don't have to vent the core exhaust with mah bare hooves.”  Scootaloo chuckled as her friend collapsed in the Ops chair beside her.

“Well, knowing our good friend and, eh-hem, 'employer' the weapons will be overhauled and our barrier arrays upgraded.  Remember last time we made it to port and she couldn't afford spare energy collectors?”

“Yeah, I guess having to eat once in a while puts a damper on her trigger-happiness.”  Both shared a short laugh at the memory of a thoroughly put out Sweetie Bell at the thought of going without a fully stocked ammo-store.

In truth the trio may have their differences, but the CM Crusader had never seen a better crew.  While they had once been a member of the civilian sector Cloudsdale armada, it had been Sweetie Bell's idea to move into the mercenary services.  Odd jobs, escorts, salvage, and the occasional corporate spearhead in their never-ending feuds had brought the barely serviceable gunship to a class above the rest.  The Thor class was old, but that only meant it was built to last.  In the capable hooves of Applebloom it had gone from junker to predator in a few short months.  She prided herself on that, one of the only times she's ever had to truly show what she could do.

The clip-clop of hooves on deck-plating announced Sweetie's return to the cockpit.  Applebloom looked back with a smirk to hear the excited tirade of payouts that always preceded her.  This time though there was silence.  Sweetie Bell's face was blank, and she simply looked back and motioned her head to follow.  “Hold the fort, Scoot.  Somethin's up.”

“Can do.”  Hopping from her seat, Applebloom followed after her comrade all the way to the cargo hold.  Inside, all three containers were opened.  Something inside was sending slivers of incandescent light all the way to the ceiling.

“Look inside, tell me what you see,” Sweetie said blandly.  Applebloom lifted her two front legs up onto the edge and peered over, sparkles alighting in her eyes at the sight.  The container was filled top to bottom with the most beautiful jewels she'd ever seen.  All cut, all unmarked... and all flawless as best her mechanical eye could tell.

“Wow...” was all she could say as she looked at the next one, and then the last.  All three were stuffed to the brim with some of the most precious gems imaginable.  “Sweetie Bell... this... this could be...”

“Very bad," she sighed as she tipped over to lean on the wall-plate.

“Eh?”  Applebloom was taken aback.  Of all ponies she would have expected the unicorn to be ecstatic about such a find.  “With how rare gems are, with how much they're worth... this is bad?”

“Three full cargo pods of them?  Think... how many pods were in that hulk?  Ten, maybe twelve?  What do you think was inside?”

“Um... more jewels?”

“Which means it was a mining transport.”  Sweetie Bell had taken to pacing, her hooves making soft echoes in the bay.

“Ah still don't follow.”

“Mining transport... that means Diamond Dogs, Applebloom.”  That got the ginger-haired pony's explicit attention.  “You know them, they know their gems.  Probably cracked an asteroid to get at these.”

“Uh... okay.  Well, they can just scan the wreck and they'll know we didn't splash the transport.  Salvage in unmarked space is a free market.”  All poor Applebloom received was a scowl.

“Think, AB.  Whatever DID splash that transport wasn't after one of the most expensive commodities on the open market.  That ship was torn to ribbons, and its cargo bays were full.  Or, what's worse... they didn't have the means to grab the haul just then.  If they left the prize, what do you think that means?”

“Oh...” the realization striking home for the mechanic.

“And we left a pulse trail bright as day from that wreck.”

“Ah'll go warm up the wink-engine.”

“I think that is an excellent idea.”  The unicorn's horn glowed as she replaced the lids onto the pods, and was soon on Applebloom's heels out the central corridor.  Practically leaping into the tactical seat to Scootaloo's right, Sweetie brought up her holo-displays and was already charting a route out of the area.  “We may have a problem.”

“What now?”

“Transport was Diamond Dog.”

“You mean...”

“Yes, our cargo hold is full of jewels.”

“How is that a problem?  If we take this to Draco Major we could buy the entire docking port and everything in it!”

“Yes, and whoever destroyed the transport didn't see fit to take any of the gems with them.  That means they had every intention of coming back.  Only one group I can think of that works like that.”  Turning her head, Sweetie met Scoot's gaze.

“Uh oh...” a spaker cracked o life, catching Scoot's attention before she could finish her thought.

“Y'all got a short jump, but we're gonna hafta eject the wink-drive after this,” the intercom barked.

“How short?”

“I got a hundred bits on this piece a junk goin bottom up fore we hit royal space.”

“Good, because we're only going halfway.”  Swiping the holo-display towards the pilot's seat, Sweetie Bell showed off the coordinates she had just plotted.

“Jeez Sweets... remember back when we were younger and all we did all day was try different jobs?”

“Key word... younger.”

The engines on the Crusader flashed bright blue and the gunship vanished in an eruption of light.  Only particles and dust was left in its wake, and not a moment too soon.  A green surge of light blinked into space far behind where the Crusader had fled.  The vessel that accompanied it blotted out the stars behind it, black as death.  Sickly green fields of light shown from the pointed front, sweeping over the wasting heap of the Diamond Dog transport.

It took only moments for the green fields to center in on two pod clasps that were empty... clasps that had not been so vacant hours before.  The black ship hovered there another moment, then in another venomous emerald blast was gone, taking the wreckage with it.