How Anon, Snips and Trixie saved Equestria, pt. 6


                                            >Be Jerry, illegal Data Dog

                                            >Plus loyal assistant to local war hero/war criminal/kooky farmer named Anon

                                            >You're really in the shit now, eh?

                                            >You wonder where your old buddy Ein is- probably eating shoe leather in Ganymede's orbit, if that shifty crew of his is any indication

                                            >Nah, shoe leather's too fancy- that spiky-haired guy can probably barely afford shoe pleather!

                                            >Fuck! Now's not the time for reminiscing!

                                            >You got shit to do!

                                            >Acting Captain/Master has no fucking clue, the steerage boy never has a clue, and the horned girl makes you feel very uncomfortable so let's not ask her!

                                            >Can't really blame them, though- they got thrown into this hulk with less training than Anon got. Thank Scoob one of them can actually understand you!

                                            >Panicking gets soldiers killed! Take account so you can take charge!

                                            >Step one: alert the crew. Check.

                                            >Step two: Fully assess the current crisis. Slow is precise, precise is fast:


                                            >Fucking big iguana is using your mobile command center as an ass warmer

                                            >Looks like the same shitbag who smoked out half of Horseyburg or whatever their dumb name means

                                            >SHIT! The vents!

                                            >Your precious, designed-by-the-lowest-motherfucking-bidder-so-we-have-fuck-all-for-heat-sinks vents!

                                            >To the cab! Check the engine status!

                                            >You sprint forward as fast as your little legs can carry, which is surprisingly fast because you're an absolute unit in more ways than one

                                            >Climb up into the engineer's chair, sit your ass down in the nice Jerry-shaped hole you've worn into it over the years

                                            >Plasma flow- nominal, or shit would be on fire

                                            >Coolant is cycling properly, the extra 10 tons on top has yet to burst any piping

                                            >Containment isn't redlining.

                                            >Yet.

                                            >Step two- check


                                            >Step three- devise solutions

                                            >You already tried readying the guns, the critter's fat ass is holding them down.

                                            >Sadly, there will be no reenactment of St. George and his lance tonight.

                                            >Something ain't adding up, though-


                                            >Back to step two again.

                                            >This thing was designed by kraut wizards who figured out how to turn hot fusion into cold fusion, but not how to just have cold fucking fusion to begin with.

                                            >Goddamn army considered it a feature- soldiers have to be DOING shit or their asses get roasted, either by the reactor or when the vents give their ass away on a heat scope.

                                            >Why the hell have you not blown up yet?

                                            >There's no ECM, the cloak burned out decades ago, the lights take fuck-all to run

                                            >The only outlet the reactor has is the vents and the redneck-tier drivetrain which isn't running

                                            >And you don't even have open sky to vent into

                                            >Maybe dragons are immune to cooking, but not immune to heat?

                                            >Like, they get superhot, they just don't get hurt from it

                                            >Yeah- dragons must be like living heat sinks, it's the only explanation that doesn't end in going up like Hiroshima

                                            >That Spike boy really hates being cold- reaching for a blanket every time you saw him

                                            >But do we have any spare tanks of coolant on board?


                                            -----


                                            >Journal of Captain Snips

                                            >Yer land-ship's been beached beneath the red whale for at least an hour now

                                            >Queen Trixie was built like a Mexicolt poopenhausen, but even so her hull is starting to creak beneath Moby Derg

                                            >Speaking like ye olde pyrates has raised the morale of yer jolly tars; still, tis only a matter of time before the talk of mutiny spreads

                                            >Mister Jeremy spoke of using freezifying alchemy to give the lizard the old anti-hotfoot

                                            >A sound plan, one that would've been carried out already, if not for Jerry's insistence that the coldium must stay in its piping lest yer magazine go up like yer toilet after eating at Saffron Masala's

                                            >All in all, yer right back where ye started: up poop creek with no luck


                                            >Ensign Snails is up and about, but the lass is still in her bunk

                                            "Yar, I hate to say it, but we might be bound fer better sailin'."

                                            >"Uh, wouldn't that be a good thing, Cap'n?"

                                            "No- it's a euphemism for 'we're all gonna die.' Yar."

                                            >"Oh. K. One sec."

                                            >He takes a breath worthy of a whale breaching the surface for the first time in 3 hours, then:

                                            >"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

                                            >From the quarters you hear the telltale thump of a filly's rump

                                            >Most likely from bed she has finally jumped

                                            >Mayhap she has a plan to keep ye all from being royally pumped?

                                            >"WHAT THE HECK, GUY- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

                                            >Jolly, you needn't waste any breath explaining the grim situation to her


                                            "Ah, finally decided to join us, Miss Muffinmare?"

                                            >"How did you- whatever. Why is there a DRAGON sitting on our roof!?"

                                            "We be thinking it likes the heat from our boiler. Jerry thinks we can scare it off with something cold, but we've nothing to spare..."

                                            >"Well, dang, looks like we're all gonna die. Hey Snails, let's try and make a foal! Come on, you know you want to! We won't live long enough to have to actually change a diaper!"

                                            >"Uh, I don't know how- my mom keeps telling me to ask my dad but my dad's never around."

                                            >The stare you level at Dinky could freeze a phoenix

                                            >You, and everyone, jump in surprise when you hear the sound of ice cracking from Dinky's bunk

                                            >"What? I swiped some firecrackers from my mom's boyfriend- they were useless anyway, he said he couldn't get them to trigger!"

                                            "Then why did you even want them!? AND WHY WOULD YOU STORE THEM UNDER YOUR OWN BED!?"

                                            >"STOP YELLING AT ME! I THOUGHT THEY'D BE USEFUL!"

                                            >"What I wanna know is uh, how did she get them here? She weren't carrying anything when we ran outta Ponyville."

                                            >"Shut it, hot boy!"

                                            "Shut up, dude! Wait wait wait- why are FIRECRACKERS making a sound like an iceberg breaking!?"

                                            >"Ohhh, he said something about emotional magic- I dunno, maybe they reacted to the TOTAL. LACK. OF. ROMANCE. on this boat?"

                                            "That's- Huh, okay, Jerry! Go get them! Dinky, keep hitting on Snails!"

                                            >"Can do!"


                                            -----


                                            "Alright, we're only getting one shot at this-"

                                            >You pause and look at all three of your crew for effect

                                            "First, I stand near the bundle and give Snails the cold shoulder."

                                            >"What'd I do, dude?"

                                            >You start to answer, but content yourself with pointing a hoof at Dinky

                                            >Dinky, who is rubbing herself on Snails like a cat

                                            >Even going under him, making sure to get her mane oil all over his belly

                                            >Eugh

                                            "Anyway- after the bomb gets cold enough, we lean out the window and chuck it at the dragon's nards. Guess the plan isn't so complicated, after all."

                                            >"Didn't Jerry say we'd fry like an egg?"

                                            >Wow, Snails actually asking a relevant question?

                                            "Yeah, but, he also says the dragon's butt is soaking up all the extra heat. We should be able to do it, I guess we all need to be there to shut the window REALLY fast when-"

                                            >"BOOF!"

                                            "Yeah that's a good point- Snails, you and Jerry get up front and be ready to drive, Dinky you're with me."

                                            >"But-"

                                            "No buts. I don't want you sitting in the pit staring at Snails again, you're on steering!"

                                            >Dinky scrunches and pouts and stomps, but ultimately takes her post as the others head to the front

                                            >You grab the-

                                            >Nope, it's frozen to the floor! You're gonna need to grab the crowbar!

                                            >It takes some work but you finally have a bundle of anti-fireworks powered by your sheer heebyjeebies ready to rock

                                            >Dinky's tongue sticks out as she works the window, you finally hear the mechanism click and-

                                            >OH YE GODS, YER RUMP IS ROASTING!

                                            >Jerry wasn't kidding!

                                            >Grab it! GRAB IT!

                                            >YOUR HEAD IS ON FIRE!

                                            >You hear a screech, probably the wheels straining against the weight

                                            >Thankfully, the resulting sandblast puts out your face-fire

                                            >The derg stands up a bit to scratch its- well, you know, a spot that really hates sand

                                            >Not enough for the car to move, of course, it's stretching like a cat

                                            >Lot of things are stretching like cats right now- the connection causes a blast of cold to emanate from the fireworks

                                            >Now's your chance! Throw it!

                                            >SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

                                            >You're pulled in by a pair of feminine hooves, the window closed tight

                                            >You barely have time to ask who does her hooves before you get knocked onto your chin

                                            >There's a sharp rise in the floor, a sense of vertigo not unlike being on a fancy elevator-

                                            >The dragon decided to take its hot rock with it as it flew away

                                            >Dang it


                                            -----


                                            >Be hurtling through the air at mach fast

                                            >The dragon did not just fly away as you'd hoped

                                            >Instead, it kept the presence of mind to hold on to the free source of heat

                                            >Held it right against the target of your freezypops, in fact

                                            >Ew

                                            >On the bright side, unless the compass somehow got fried, you're heading closer to your destination

                                            >Might shave a day or two off your travel, assuming you get out of here

                                            >Which you have to.

                                            >You...

                                            >Can't fail. Not an option.

                                            >No thoughts, just duty.

                                            >You've never been smart enough to give up on something before, you're not gonna start now!


                                            >Snails and Jerry are at the front, keeping the boiler from blowing

                                            >Dinky is... Crud, is she okay?

                                            >She paces back and forth, stopping only to gnaw on her own tail hairs

                                            >"We're never gonna make it!" she almost screams to nopony in particular

                                            >You trot up to her, placing a hoof on her shoulder

                                            "Lock it down, sailor! We can't lose!"

                                            >She looks at you like you just said the stupidest thing in the world

                                            >Funny, you were starting to miss that- it's almost comforting


                                            >"What are you talking about!? The last two days we've seen our parents get locked up with a spank-happy teacher! Then we almost get eaten by our neighbors! SAT ON BY A FREAKING DRAGON! AND CARRIED OFF WHEN YOU THREW A POPSICLE INTO ITS BOY PARTS! I can't take it anymore! What next!? mmf! mf! mmmmmf!"

                                            >You deftly parry her hexcasting with a hoof in her mouth

                                            "Stop! You're right, we've been having rotten luck! Do you really want to jinx us more?"

                                            >With eyes as wide as dinner plates, she shakes her head and you remove your now unpleasantly moist hoof from the muffin death zone

                                            "When I said we can't lose, I didn't mean there was no way we'd mess up- I meant we just... can't lose. It's not an option."

                                            >She opens her mouth, but you continue before she can respond

                                            "It's not hopeless either! I had a horrible nightmare and Princess Luna showed up! She's helping us, we have to help her!"

                                            >"Ohhh, great, one half of the Rump-Kicked Sisters! She can't do diddly-squat on a good day! How's she gonna help when she's half-starving!?"


                                            >Crumbs. It's a good point, but-

                                            "The princesses are bad at fighting monsters, but they *are* good at doing normal princess stuff- and we had a long time to talk while I was asleep. Trust me, all we have to do is get there in the next few days, and it'll work out. I just know it."

                                            >You pull her into a hug, she's trying not to sob

                                            >"I'm sorry I've been creeping on Snails- I just like him and I don't know what to do anymore and he's totally out of my league and-"

                                            "Shhhh. Yeah, I get that. We're gonna make it, one step at a time. Right now: How to make the dragon drop us without kill-"


                                            >You're interrupted by a boom and rattling floors, a screech out of Tartarus, Jerry howling in triumph and the sudden vertigo of downward velocity, in that order

                                            >Downward velocity!?

                                            >Crudcrudcrud-

                                            >OW!

                                            >You hit the ground already? That wasn't too bad.

                                            >Dragon wasn't flying too high, you guess- alrighty then!


                                            -----


                                            >Emboldened by your victory, everypony takes their station

                                            "East-southeast, Ms. Muffins!"

                                            >"East-southeast, aye Captain!"

                                            >The environment in front of you is miles and miles of sandy plains

                                            >While you're literally looking forward at it, you're really not looking forward to looking at it for the next 12 hours

                                            "Full sail, Mr. Snails!"

                                            >"Uh.... what?"

                                            >Bucking Snails, dude

                                            >You should be used to it by now, but what the hay does Dinky see in him?

                                            "J-Just put all your weight on that pedal! Geez."

                                            >"Oh. Can do!"

                                            >You're thrown against the back... well, you were standing up, so you're thrown against the back of the entire cabin

                                            >Car is go fast, yes

                                            >It's a wobbly, adrenaline-soaked walk back to the front

                                            >You look out the front and- wow, you're really going!

                                            >A bunch of dunes lie ahead- oh crud

                                            >The rapid up-and-down motion of the vehicle dribbles everypony against the roof, the floor, the roof, the floor, etc

                                            >Dinky manages to hold onto the wheel but Snails is thrown out of the pedal pit

                                            >Jerry's frantic barking accompanies the resultant slowdown, and the usual screens going red and screaming

                                            >He manages it, though- and pushes everypony into one of the seats

                                            >It takes a while, but you eventually gather that there's safety harnesses here

                                            >Dinky and Snails easily fit into the driver's seat, to Dinky's extreme delight

                                            >They're pressed together a bit, but this only increases her delight

                                            >There's similar harnesses in every seat on this thing, so you can take your pick

                                            >Only problem is- how in the wide world of Equestria do you work the pedals with nobody down there?

                                            >A lot of yelling and waving sticks and bricks and other tools around ensues


                                            "Wait.... we all have telekinesis. How did we forget- AAAAARGH!"

                                            >Dinky blushes and gets that 'oopsie' look

                                            >"Uh... yeah, I might've... selectively forgot about that... so I could be down in the place with the thing? heh heh."

                                            >You facehoof with an audible clop

                                            "Honestly, I can't even be mad. Snails's brain is as empty as this desert, but what the hay is my excuse? CRUMBS."


                                            -----