//------------------------------//
// 5. Virtuous Mission 
// Story: Pony Gear Solid 
// by Posh 
//------------------------------//


"Unfortunately, killing is just one of those things that gets easier the more you do it."






Coming out of the darkness of the Everfree Forest and into the daylight of the afternoon sun was an adjustment. In part because my eyes needed to adapt to the light after so much time in the dark, sure, but also because of how Equestria looked in direct sunlight.

The place was vivid. Brilliant, really. Everywhere I looked was saturated with color, from the sunlight that shone upon the blue bricks of the castle, to the bright, almost neon coats of my companions. By contrast, I and everything else from my world seemed drab and washed out. I kept looking down at my boots in the grass, and noticing how badly they clashed with the environment. I was a sore thumb which was not created by nature, and I put all other sore thumbs in history to shame. Camouflage, I decided, would not be an option.

In hindsight, though, I wonder how well the OctoCamo would have worked in Equestria.

The forest terminated at the edge of a wide chasm, and we hid in the moderate cover that the trees and underbrush provided. Across the chasm was a metal bridge, which seemed to have been fabricated using whatever scrap was on hand. According to Twilight, the castle was comprised of multiple structures, though only the outermost parts of it were visible from our vantage point. A wooden guard tower, which appeared to have been made from native Equestrian wood, stood in front of what had once been the castle's gatehouse. A single soldier, clad in a black T-shirt and navy blue combat vest, stood at watch on the tower, resting a sniper rifle upon his shoulder. The tower was shorter than the wall, but it still offered him a decent panoramic view of the area in front of the castle. Probably a good thing that they didn't stick the guards up on the wall itself. That thing didn't look at all stable. 

"At least they did something about that tacky bridge," mused Rarity. 

"Hmm?" I was only halfway listening, preoccupied as I was with trying to plot a way across the bridge without being spotted by the sentry.

"That bridge. The one that's right in front of you?" said Rarity, waggling a hoof at it. "The last time we were here, it was a rope bridge. Personally, as shabby as this one is, I like it a bit more. It looks less likely to break and kill anypony who crosses it."

I eyed it dubiously. "That's an upgrade?"

Rainbow Dash snorted. "It's an upgrade, but only because when you're at rock bottom, you can't go anywhere but up. It's in one piece, and it isn't dangling over the side of the canyon. So, yeah. Upgrade."

Fluttershy tiptoed (or would it be tiphoofed?) closer to us. "It does look safer than the old bridge," she said. "That was very helpful of those soldiers to replace it with something more secure. I suppose that's one nice thing to take away from all of this." She offered me an optimistic smile.

I didn't return it. "They're here to kill you," I said, over-stressing each syllable to patronize her. "Not to fix your country's crappy infrastructure." 

Fluttershy's smile faded. She blushed and backed away, staring at the ground and mumbling contritely. 

Twilight frowned at me. "That was unnecessarily rude, Snake" she admonished. She moved a little closer to me, close enough that I could see the clotted, discolored spots where timberwolf sap had splattered her, and spoke in a quieter voice. "After what happened back in the forest, I don't think that we should discourage Fluttershy's optimism." 

I looked past her, at the baby dragon who sat a little detached from the group, and decided that I didn't want to take directions from someone who brought a child into a war zone. "I'm not here to wet-nurse you. There's no place for nannying on the battlefield." Forcing a subject change, I nodded in the direction of the guard tower and asked "Is that a new addition?" 

Twilight clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes at me, clearly unhappy with my disregard of Fluttershy's feelings. Then you shouldn't have brought that child into a war zone, I thought. 

She let out a sharp breath and rolled her eyes. "Yeah. The castle's new tenants probably threw that together."

Applejack trotted forward and knelt in the grass beside me. "Wonder what else they've done with the place," she remarked. "Could have all kinds'a nasty surprises waitin' for us in there."

"Yeah," said Rainbow Dash. "Sure would be great if we had somepony here who could, I don't know, fly or something. Then that somepony could get the lay of the land and come back and tell us what's waiting for us before we walk into it." She tapped her chin with her hoof pensively. Suddenly, her face lit up. "Wait a minute! I'M somepony who can fly! I can do all those things! Rainbow Dash, you are a genius!" She laughed and took to the air, darting toward the gatehouse.

Fortunately, her self-serving sarcasm telegraphed her intent, and I caught her by the tail before she could get out of arm's length. "Hold it."

Rainbow Dash glared at me, fruitlessly beating her wings. "Hey, I don't care how cool hands are. Keep 'em to yourself." She tried yanking her tail out of my grip, but I held tightly.

"Then use your head," I said, gesturing at the gatehouse. "You can't just dash in there and look at stuff."

"Oh yeah?" demanded Rainbow Dash. She floated closer to me. "And why not?"

Twilight nudged her shoulder and directed her attention to the guard tower. 

Rainbow Dash's ears drooped. "Oh. Right." She chuckled. 

Not the cleverest creature I'd run into, but she was nothing if not zealous. Zeal gets you killed if you don't have a level head backing it up, however. 

"First thing's first," I said. "We take out the sentry. Once he's out of the way, you're good to go."

Fluttershy spoke, but her voice was quiet, and carried an air of dread. "How are you going to do that?"

"Think I'll try shooting him," I muttered.

Fluttershy made a little choking sound, like she was swallowing a sob. I could practically see the judgmental look that Twilight was giving me. 

It isn't as though I didn't sympathize with what Fluttershy was going through. Twilight was right; it was a small miracle that she was capable of any semblance of optimism after how badly she was affected by the scene in the forest. But there wasn't any time to take her personal feelings into consideration. This was a crisis that needed solving, and she'd chosen to see it through. I don't know what her reasons were for staying with us after the fight with the timberwolves, but she was committed, and she couldn't renege on account of hurt feelings. 

Still, I thought, the least I can do is throw her a bone here. 

I drew the M9 and held it up for Fluttershy to see. She looked fearfully at it. "This is a tranquilizer gun," I told her. "It's what I used to save Apple Bloom from the manticore. Completely nonlethal. It'll knock that soldier unconscious, and he'll be out for hours, but it won't kill him."

Fluttershy took her eyes off of the gun and looked into mine. She swallowed and gave a tiny nod.

Well, that was one problem solved... or at least delayed. I turned back to the guard tower and eyeballed the sentry. He was resting the rifle across his shoulders and, for some odd reason, descending beneath the wall of the guard tower, and reappearing a moment later. "What in the world is he doing?" I thought out loud. 

"Squat thrusts," said Rainbow Dash. "The two-legged kind."

I gave her a skeptical look. "This is a crack mercenary army. They haven't exactly been impressive so far, but they're not that unprofessional."

Rainbow Dash sucked her teeth. "Live in denial all you want, Snake. That guy out there is doing squat thrusts."

"He is not doing – look, I'll prove it." I reached for the scope on my belt.

It wasn't there. "Where the hell is my...?" I patted the other pouches and bags on my person, thinking that I misplaced it at some point, but no. It was just gone. "When did I lose it?" I groaned, growing somewhat agitated. Did it fall out while I was fighting the manticore, or the wolves, or Trenton? That had never happened before. Did Zecora steal it from me while I was unconscious?

"Yeah," said Rainbow Dash with a derisive snicker. "You sure showed me, Snake."

"What's the matter, Snake?" asked Pinkie Pie, bouncing toward me. "Lose something?"

I frowned at her. "My scope."

"'Scope?'" asked Pinkie with a tilt of her head. "Like binoculars? No problem-o!" Grinning, she darted into the high grass. The only sign of her presence was a tuft of pink hair that poked out of the grass like a periscope. A moment later, she emerged, a pair of binoculars clamped in her mouth.  

What in the hell?! "Where did you get those?" I asked, gesturing at the binoculars.

Pinkie trotted up to me, a happy smile on her face, and dropped them into her hooves. "Oh, I have binoculars stashed all over Equestria." She nodded. "In case of binocular emergency."

All over Equestra. Not even "all over Ponyville," or "all over the Everfree Forest." I didn't know how to react to that. I just knelt there, staring at Pinkie Pie, my mouth hanging open as my mind tried to process everything she'd just said and done.

The pony held her binoculars out to me. I took them, nodded numbly, swallowed, turned back to the gatehouse, and raised the binoculars to my eyes without another word. 

"Squat thrusts," I said. "I'll be damned."

Rainbow Dash floated beside me, her forelegs crossed, a smug expression on her face. "You've learned a valuable lesson about disagreeing with Rainbow Dash today, Snake."

God, she was irritating. 

I lowered the binoculars and raised my pistol again. There was a little bit of comedy in it; what kind of sniper does squat thrusts in the middle of guard duty? Funniest damn thing I'd ever seen during a mission. For the first time in my career, I had to stifle a laugh as I prepared to shoot a man. This Equestria fiasco was full of firsts for me.

Some of you out there might be wondering why I chose not to use the Model 500 to take down the guard. Some of you might think it was a concession to Fluttershy. It wasn't (though like I said, I did sympathize with her). With respect to Captain Case, the Model 500 was not an option. Its ammunition was scarce, its weight was considerable, its recoil made it all but inoperable as a mainstay sidearm, and its noise made it absolutely useless on a stealth mission. I took it and kept it because it was a parting gift from a dying soldier, not because I foresaw any practical use for it. By contrast, the M9 was lighter, silent, and came equipped with a laser sight. It was the right choice.

Also, for obvious reasons, I really don't like revolvers. 

I leveled the gun and waited for an opportune moment to pull the trigger. The sentry dropped into another squat, his head passed below the waist-level wall of the guard tower, and reappeared a moment later, right in my sights.

I fired. There was the usual soft hiss of the suppressed gunshot, and an instant later, I heard a muffled cough as the sentry dropped. Not a bad shot. 

"You're good to go," I said to Rainbow Dash.

"Thanks, dad," said Rainbow Dash sarcastically. I heard her wings beat and felt a faint gust of wind as she passed. She dropped into the chasm, pulled up once she reached the opposite end, and skirted around the edge of the gatehouse wall, keeping low. Not long after, she rounded a corner and was out of sight.

I settled in, stroking my stubble thoughtfully as I stared across the bridge. "How far across is that chasm?" I wondered out loud.

"I don't know," said Pinkie Pie from above me. In a very thoughtful, earnest tone, as though it seriously meant something to her, she added "I didn't bring my ruler." 

Suddenly, I became aware that she was perched upon my shoulders, resting her chin on the top of my head. I shut my eyes and clenched my teeth. "Get. Off." 

After a moment, she complied. 

"How in the world did you get up there without me noticing?"

"Climbed," said Pinkie Pie. She wasn't looking at me; her attention was fixed on the gatehouse and guard tower.

"How could you climb on me without my – ugh, forget it." I lifted my borrowed binoculars again, keeping an eye out for any trace of Rainbow Dash. I caught sight of a prismatic contrail darting into the sky, disappearing into one of those cheesy clouds. What was she up to?

"If you're anything like me, then you're probably frustrated right now," said Twilight quietly. "Take my advice: don't try figuring out Pinkie Pie."

"Yeah?" I asked. The cloud was moving now, edging closer and closer to where we hid. "You've tried?"

I heard Twilight sigh. "When we get back to Ponyville, I'll let you flip through my six volumes of notes on her behavior. There's no pattern to anything she does. It's one of her charms."

"'Charming' wouldn't be how I'd describe it," I muttered. "More like 'insane.' I thought Zecora was as out there as it got, and then I met Pinkie Pie." The cloud was right on top of us now. I set the binoculars down and reached for my Beretta, not sure of what was coming. "I keep wondering how this place is going to top itself next."

Suddenly, Rainbow Dash dropped from the sky. She beat her wings to slow her descent and landed lightly in the center of the group. 

Admittedly, I probably should have seen that coming – she did fly into that cloud, after all – but adjusting to a whole new set of physical laws was tough going. I didn't like it.

"Didja see anything?" Applejack asked, apparently unperturbed by her friend literally falling out of the sky. "Any sign of Apple Bloom?"

Rainbow Dash shook her head. "The gatehouse is empty, except for a bunch of tents. There're a bunch of giant thingies in a courtyard outside of the main part of the castle—"

"The keep," Twilight corrected.

"The what?" Rainbow Dash looked askance at her. "No, the main part of the castle."

Twilight huffed. "What you're referring to is properly called—"

"Anyway," continued Rainbow Dash. Twilight pressed a hoof to her face. "One thing that's weird about the gatehouse though: Remember the pedestal where we found the Elements last time we were here? Well, the statue on top of it is gone. There's just this giant box on it now."

"You keep using vague terms, nonspecifics," I said. "'Giant thingies.' 'Giant box.' Describe them a little more."

"They're thingies. And they're giant," said Rainbow Dash matter-of-factly. "And there's a box on the pedestal, and it's also giant." She shrugged. "That's all I got."

A moment passed where I stared at Rainbow Dash with a blank look on my face. 

"Fine," I said at length. I holstered the Beretta and picked up the binoculars, tossed them back to Pinkie Pie, then turned to the bridge. "We should be on our guard. Just because the gatehouse is..." 

"Is what?" asked Spike, speaking up for the first time in a while. "You planning on finishing that sentence?"

I didn't answer. I was completely focused on the ghostly figure in black which had appeared in the middle of the bridge. Glowing red eyes bored into me beneath his hood-covered face. Illuminated by the light of his eyes was a sinister, toothy smile.

It was him. The thing that spoke to me in my dream. The Sorrow. 

"Do you see that?" I asked, keeping my voice level and turning to look at the others.

Pinkie Pie raised her binoculars to her eyes. "Do you mean that knothole a quarter of an inch below the platform on the guard tower, or the cobweb covering the rightmost brick in the gatehouse?"

"What? No. I mean the—" I turned back to the bridge, half expecting it to be gone, like in those horror movies where the second the hero takes his eye off of something unusual that only he can see, it vanishes. Reality defied my expectation, however. The Sorrow still stood there, grinning that shit-eating grin at me. 

Son of a bitch.

"Snake?" asked Applejack. "Y'all look like y'seen a ghost."

The Sorrow was not a ghost. I told myself, over and over, that ghosts did not exist. It was a hallucination, probably brought on from the effects of the manticore's venom. It hadn't been that long since the sting; I was probably still feeling the effects of it, however slightly. That thing on the bridge, the one from my dream, was a figment, and nothing more. 

Besides, I thought, what would the ghost of a human be doing in a world populated by talking ponies? More evidence that I was simply hallucinating. In the dream, it knew things that only I knew, and out here, only I could see it. It was a lingering effect from the manticore's venom, and nothing more.

Then I noticed that I was putting a substantial amount of effort into reasoning my hallucination away, and that my rationalizations were, themselves, somewhat irrational. And that only made me more nervous.

I ordered myself to shake it off. Freezing up like that in the middle of a mission was unbecoming. "It's nothing," I said to Applejack. "I thought I saw another sniper, but I guess I was wrong." 

Pinkie Pie offered me her binoculars. "You wanna borrow these again and make sure? 'Cuz I see plenty of interesting things out there, but no snipers."

"It's fine. Just a shadow. I must be getting old. Vision's starting to crap out." I drew my Beretta again, clenching it tightly in my hands. "Let's go."

I took point as we moved onto the bridge, stepping lightly and slowly. Upgrade or no, the bridge looked rickety as hell, and we were putting a lot of weight onto it together. I didn't want to take a chance by running across, putting undue stress on the thing. The Sorrow stood in the same spot in the middle of the bridge, smiling that ghastly smile beneath his hood. As I came closer to him, he moved aside, standing as far out of my path as he could. His feet made no sound against the metal floor. I couldn't decide if that was a good sign or not. 

"What're you looking at?" I growled quietly. He remained silently smiling, his coal-like eyes following me as I passed, but I forced myself to swallow my discomfort. 

It's a hallucination, I reminded myself. Nothing more.





The ponies and the dragon climbed the steps to the front gate. I lagged behind, staring up at the guard tower. "Hold on a minute," I called over my shoulder.

"What's the matter?" asked Rainbow Dash. "Looking for someplace private to stare into space and mutter to yourself?" 

I turned around and scowled at her, and she shrugged. "I calls 'em as I sees 'em."

I pointed up the ladder leading from the ground to the platform. "There's a high-powered rifle up there," I said in a less-than-friendly tone. "That's the kind of thing that comes in very handy in a pinch." I looked at Twilight. "Unless you don't think we need the additional firepower."

Twilight waved a hoof. "You know best."

I nodded, gave Rainbow Dash one last smoldering look, and began to climb the ladder.

"I don't like him," I overheard Rainbow Dash mutter.

"It doesn't matter whether you like him or not," said Twilight. "We need him right now."

"Twilight's right," said Applejack. "Look, he's done right by us so far, Rainbow, and he sounds like he really wants t'help Apple Bloom. Ain't that really what matters?"

"I didn't say I wouldn't work with him," said Rainbow Dash. "Gosh, AJ, you know I'd do anything for you or Apple Bloom, even if it means I gotta work with some crazy shaved gorilla." She snorted. "I just don't like him. That's all."

It's cute how they figured I was out of earshot. 

I pulled myself onto the platform. The sentry lay curled in a ball, cradling his rifle in the crook of his arm like a teddy bear. He snoozed quietly, occasionally smacking his lips, but otherwise remained still and silent. 

Slowly and carefully, I removed the rifle from his grip and examined it. It was an M24, an older bolt action rifle that's still in service with some armies around the world. Its age didn't bother me; as long as it could perform, I wouldn't complain. By the look of it, the gun was better maintained than the AKs that the soldiers in the forest had carried. I suspected that they had few dedicated marksman rifles in stock, and had to take special care of the ones they did have. It also had a sling so that I could carry it on my back; I wouldn't have to cradle it constantly.

I pulled back the gun's bolt. A live round sat in the chamber; presumably, it had a full five rounds in the magazine. I rolled the sleeping guard over to checked the pouches on his vest for additional ammunition, and was rewarded with multiple five-round stripper clips. Counting the rounds already in the gun, I had twenty-five shots to use against an army of more than three hundred. Maybe I'd get lucky. Maybe they'd all charge me in fourteen-man single-file lines, and I'd be able to fire each individual round from the front of the line to the back. 

Or maybe I'd just have to make my shots count. 

I glanced over the wall at the nearby bridge. The Sorrow had vanished. Good riddance. I slung the rifle onto my back and descended the ladder again, skipping the last two rungs. 

"You can crack all the jokes you want," I said to Rainbow Dash, "but I expect you to take them back when I save your ass with this gun."

"Oooooooh," said Pinkie, like a child who'd watched her sibling get sent to his room. Rainbow Dash gave me the stink-eye and turned away. 

I knelt in front of the wooden door, drew my M9, and nudged it open. Aiming down my sights, I stepped inside, and quickly scanned the gatehouse's interior for any sign of threat, but it was as Rainbow Dash described it: full of canvas tents, broken columns, and not much else. There were six smaller tents set up with no thought to organization, alignment, or pattern, and a larger tent set up in the middle of the room. Towering over that was the pedestal Rainbow Dash had mentioned, where a giant black box rested. There was some lettering on the box, but I couldn't quite make it out from where I was standing.

Rainbow Dash floated past me, snickering. "As scary as those tents are, I don't think you need to pull your gun on them." 

She was starting to get on my nerves. I grumbled and holstered my gun as the others filed past me. 

"I don't get it," said Spike. "Where are all the soldiers?"

"Captain Case said that they'd moved most of the troops to a staging area outside of the castle," said Twilight. "I guess it stands to reason that the castle'd be sparsely populated by now."

"But this is only the gatehouse," said Fluttershy, looking especially nervous. She must've had a phobia for old ruins. "The castle's bigger than this one structure, right? And there was that soldier in the guard tower, so we know it's not completely deserted."

"She's right," I said. "There could be troops in some of those tents. For all we know, this is the barracks." I looked at Rainbow Dash. "Good thing you loudly announced our presence as soon as we walked through that door."

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. "And if there were any soldiers in those tents, they'd have jumped right out and attacked us the second they heard us coming. Right?"

An unsettling, silent moment passed between the eight of us as we looked from tent to tent. I half expected someone to jump out right then and open fire, but again, I was wrong. I did hear a nervous squeak from Fluttershy, who was no doubt contemplating the same possibility as me with a far less cool head.

The blue pegasus smirked. "See?"

I sighed and lowered my voice, speaking quietly. "As a general rule, when you're on an infiltration mission, you don't talk unless you're absolutely certain that there's nobody around to overhear. To hell with your assumption; there could still be soldiers in those tents waiting to ambush us."

"Snake has a point," said Twilight, speaking softly. "Everypony, pick a tent. Let's clear this place before we do anything else."

The others scattered, each one selecting a smaller tent at random to poke around in, apparently leaving the large one to me. The only ones left standing there were myself and Spike the dragon. "So," he said, flashing me a fanged dragon grin, "I guess we're partners, huh?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. Bad enough that Twilight Sparkle decided to bring her pet child into a dangerous infiltration mission. One of us would always have to keep an eye on him, which made the situation so much more complicated than it had to be. Worse, though, was that she expected me to babysit him. If she were in earshot, I'd have given her a piece of my mind, but since she wasn't, I just turned away and walked toward the large tent. 

"What do you think we'll find in that tent?" he asked. "You really think there's some—"

I looked down at him sharply and held a finger to my lips. He mouthed "oh," and pretended to draw a zipper closed along his mouth. I had the notion that if he were Pinkie Pie, he would have had a literal zipper to close. The thought was strangely therapeutic. 

We reached the tent. I pushed the flap aside with one arm and thrust my gun inside with the other. Seeing no threats in the immediate area, I moved inside all the way, glancing quickly from one end of the room to the other for any signs of ambush. There were none. I motioned Spike inside, and he waddled in on his stumpy little dragon legs.

The tent wasn't palatial in size, but there was definitely more room to move around than the other tents. There was a workbench and assorted clutter at the far end of the tent, and ammunition boxes stacked all over the place, though not so high that a man could conceal himself behind them. I lifted the lid of one experimentally. Inside were dozens of magazines full of rifle ammo. Interestingly enough, there were no gun lockers or racks anywhere in the tent, so while they had plenty of ammo stored in there, they didn't have any guns to fire it with. 

"You can talk now," I said to Spike as I holstered my M9. "Before you say anything though, I've got a job for you."

"Yeah?" asked Spike, his voice and face hopeful. 

"Yeah." I tossed him one of the clips of rifle ammo I'd taken off the sentry. He caught it, turned it over in his hands, and frowned. 

"Find me more like that," I told him, and I headed toward the bench.

Spike made an unhappy noise. "That's it? That isn't very important."

"It's plenty important," I said as I reached the bench. "Could be the difference between life and death. You should be honored to root around for bullets." 

There were various gun parts littering the workbench's surface, along with a set of tools a vise, a typewriter (of all things), some scattered papers, and... was that a handgun? And not an M1911, at that? I blinked, shook my head, and reached out to touch it. The gun felt solid. Not a venom-induced hallucination. 

"Give me some credit, Snake," said Spike. I heard him opening ammo boxes and rustling through their contents, heard the clicking noises of plastic against plastic and the jingling of unloaded bullets. I felt a growing irritation with the little dragon; even though I hadn't interacted with him much until that point, he was still getting on my nerves easily. At least Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash could contribute in a meaningful way. The dragon was ordered to find ammo, and he wasn't even fulfilling that role properly. Maybe I just have problems with children who develop self-importance issues. 

"Any idiot can go on a scavenger hunt," Spike went on as he slid the lid back onto a box. "I want to do something important, something actually useful for a—"

I turned around sharply. "The last time you tried to be useful, you nearly got yourself eaten alive, and someone had to step in to save your life. Coincidentally, the same thing happened to the last child I spoke to, who also did something idiotic to prove herself." 

Spike stared back at me, indignant and shameful. He had no reply, so I continued speaking. "This is a battlefield, and children have no place on the battlefield. If it were up to me, you wouldn't be here right now. But you are. So the least you can do is find me some damn bullets." I turned back to the bench. "Leave the fighting to the ones who know what they're doing." I didn't say it out loud, but regardless of our collective performance in the battle with the timberwolves, I think that group consisted entirely of myself. Possibly Applejack, too.

"Maybe you didn't notice," said Spike. His voice rose in volume as his own anger built. "I saved Twilight's life in that fight."

I inspected the gun on the bench. It was a Five-SeveN, a relatively new model pistol that fired 5.7×28mm ammunition. It was a superb gun with a high capacity, well built and well maintained. What the hell was it doing here? 

"I imagine that's the only reason Twilight let you tag along this far," I said to Spike as I examined my new sidearm. "But one lucky shot doesn't mean you've somehow proven yourself to be an asset." I looked at him again. "You aren't. You're a liability."

"Well, I don't want to be a liability anymore!" Spike shouted.

"Then go home." I turned back to the bench. "And grow up." There were two spare magazines of ammunition for the Five-SeveN; I pocketed them and slid the gun into the holster that I usually reserved for lethal sidearms. "Because the cruel truth is that you don't know how to handle yourself, and that means that one of us will always have to look out for you. And it's hard enough to watch your own back without having to worry about someone else's."

The papers on the desk were mostly reports regarding ammunition stocks, personnel evaluations, or medical exams. Everything was typewritten, which explained the typewriter. I couldn't find a single writing utensil anywhere, which made me wonder how one was supposed to sign off on anything, or keep any sort of checklist. Maybe they wrote in blood.

I did find a few interesting documents. One was a duty roster with only twenty-seven names on it. Four of them I recognized – Kirshner, Baker, Ethelbert, Case. Trenton led a party of six others into the forest in pursuit of the manticore; all were killed, but the list didn't reflect that. I guessed that the other two troops, whose names I didn't know, were also somewhere on that list. Still, a handy thing to have. Assuming it was up to date (albeit imperfectly, if the dead soldiers names were still on it), that meant that there were only twenty-one soldiers occupying the castle. 

The last was a memo. Whoever typed it must have been angry; there were holes in the paper where he'd struck the keys with unnecessary force.



	

TO: Quartermaster Loomis
FROM: Capt. Case
RE: Doing your []ucking job for you

Loomis,
I went ahead and repaired Lucky Number SeveN for you. You're []elcome, by the way. Just wanted to remind you that if we still had a single competent engineer on staff, your ass would still be sitting in a []ell awaitin[] cour[] martial. This morning I asked myself if I hated you or that lunatic in the basement more, and when I saw that gun sitting on your workbench, I decided on you. I wouldn't trust you to shine the shi[] off my []oots, let alone fix the commander's pr[]cious sidearm. 

Shape the fuck u[]. It's no secret around here that I'm slipping fast on the chain of command, but I can still fix guns better than you, which means that if I slip much farther, I might just wind up with your job. 

If you get promoted to XO over me, I'll kill you myself.

Eat shit,
-Ron





I touched the Five-SeveN in my holster, and felt a trace of gratitude for the dead captain. Case was still giving me guns from beyond the grave. At least he gave me something useful this time. 

I turned away from the bench. Spike sat with his back against a stack of ammo boxes, looking sullen. "Find anything?" I asked. 

Spike glanced at me and narrowed his eyes. He tossed me the clip I'd given him; I caught it and returned it to my belt. 

"Does that mean you didn't find anything, or that you gave up and stopped looking?" I asked.

The dragon lifted himself off the ground, dusted himself off, and sighed. "I just want to help Apple Bloom."

I pressed my hand to my forehead and closed my eyes. If I'd known that going through that portal meant spending so much time around whiny children, I'd have turned my back on it, gone back to the Nomad, eaten my dinner, and forgotten the whole thing. 

"Look, you're here now, so you may as well contribute. Just don't do anything stupid." I knelt in front of the dragon. "I overheard your talk with Twilight back in the forest. She's right; don't get yourself killed because you're trying to help. There's no shame in realizing that something's out of your league. If we hit something that's beyond your ability to handle, then stay out of it, and leave it to us." Hesitating a little, I reached out and placed my hand on his tiny, scaly shoulder. "Alright?"

Spike glared at me, blushing. He brushed off my hand and made his way for the exit, leaving me kneeling alone. "Don't talk to me like I'm some stupid kid," he growled. He found himself entangled in the tent flap for a moment before he freed himself and left me kneeling alone in the tent like an idiot.

I'm no good with kids.





The others were gathered around the large pedestal when I existed the tent. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy floated next to the box, one on either side. Spike saw me coming and made damn sure he wasn't anywhere near me. Didn't care. It wasn't my problem if the kid wanted to be a brat, as long as he was a productive brat. 

"Find anything?" I asked. 

"Just moldy boxes and yucky food," said Pinkie Pie. She held an MRE packet in her hooves and stared into it with one eye. "This one says it's supposed to be banana pudding, but it's all dry and powdery." She emptied its contents into her mouth, swallowed them in one gulp, and shuddered.

"It's an MRE," I said.

Pinkie blinked at me.

"You're supposed to add water before you eat it."

Pinkie tilted her head at a ninety degree angle and blinked twice.

"Never mind." 

Pinkie shook her head rapidly, her mane flying about like cotton candy caught in a tornado. "Oh, I almost forgot!" Out of thin air, she produced an object in one of her hooves, which she tossed to me. "I found a this thing. Don't know what it is."

I caught the this thing, and turned it over in my hands. It was a directional microphone, of all things, very similar to the one Jack had used during the Big Shell crisis. I had an antique one as a souvenir aboard the Nomad, though it was totally non-functional and strictly decorative. 

"This is a valuable piece of equipment. Could come in very handy." I eyed Pinkie suspiciously. "It was just lying around in that tent?"

Pinkie shook her head again.

Then where the hell did you...?! "You don't have directional microphones stashed all over Equestria, do you?"

Pinkie held her hooves against her mouth and giggled into them. "Oh, Snake. You're such a kidder!" 

But that just raised further questions! I tried to demand more answers, but I caught a furtively hissed "psst!" from Twilight. I looked at her, and she shook her head, frowning. "Don't try figuring out Pinkie Pie," she'd said to me. 

Yeah, but... ugh. 

I decided to change the subject completely. "So what're they up to?" I asked, nodding at the pegasi hovering around the box. Twilight's frown deepened, and she glanced at the directional mic with a cough. Relenting, I put it away, adding it to my steadily growing collection of new toys.

Twilight smiled brightly at me and winked, as if to once again tell me that she sympathized. I pray that I never reach her level of tolerance for insanity. "They're trying to make heads or tails of whatever's in there," she said. "Dash figures the lid's on the top, but they can't see any way to open it."

I folded my arms, chewing my lip idly. The less nicotine I had in my system, the more I'd chew my lips, and the more I chewed my lips, the more canker sores I'd have before the mission was over. Damn, I miss smoking. 

"How do you suppose they got that box up there?" I cupped my chin. "And why?"

"Every party's gotta have a centerpiece," Pinkie Pie chirped. "Although I don't know why they had to go with such a yucky one. Gosh, it's yucky." She looked at me. "You agree, right? It's yucky?"

I ignored her. "What do the markings say?" I asked.

"They're very strange," said Fluttershy. She landed on top of the box and curled up, then peeked down at me. "I think one of them is supposed to be a symbol... it's a triangle with a lower case 't' inside of it. I hope that helps."

Triangle with a lower case... I pictured the image in my mind. "The logo for AT Corp."

"AT Corp?" asked Twilight. "What's that?"

"Rarity, you agree with me, right?" asked Pinkie Pie, a little desperately. "That's one yucky centerpiece, right?!"

"It's a weapons manufacturer," I said. "Used to be called ArmsTech Inc., before they absorbed a bunch of other corporations and changed their name." I frowned. "So they got their hands on something built by AT Corp, huh? I'd like to say that whatever's in there is a component for Metal Gear, but the one that Pegasus Wings stole was a black market copy, not a factory-made one. Couldn't have come from ArmsTech, unless they acquired it some other way."

"There's a word, too," said Rainbow Dash. She traced a hoof over the lettering. "And a whole bunch of letters that don't spell anything. Hey, what does 'IRVING' mean?"

"'IRVING?'" I thought hard, trying to come up with something to match the name, but I'd never heard it before in that context. I told them as much. "What do the letters say?"

Fluttershy hopped off the top of the box and hovered beside Rainbow Dash. "Excuse me," she said quietly, nudging her friend out of the way. "It isn't a word. Maybe an acronym? Hmm." She looked closely at the lettering. "'ATC...' and then there's a space. 'XMG...' then 'IRVING,' then '00'."

ATC XMG IRVING 00. I thought about what that could mean. "'ATC' obviously stands for 'AT Corp," I said. "The 'X' designation usually denotes a prototype weapon. 'MG...' could that stand for 'Metal Gear?'"

Maybe I was right the first time, and IRVING was some kind of new component for Metal Gear that AT Corp was developing, and Pegasus Wings got a hold of it somehow. But what would that—

"Doesn't anypony agree with me that it's a yucky centerpiece?!" Pinkie Pie all but shrieked. 

I grit my teeth and snapped "Fine! It's hideous!"

Pinkie smiled. "Okie-dokie-loki!" 

I felt like hitting her. 

"I don't think frettin' over what's in this box is gonna get us any closer to savin' Apple Bloom," said Applejack. "We'll worry 'bout it when it becomes a problem, but right now, we need to get back on track."

I nodded. "Agreed. I found a duty roster in the quartermaster's tent. It was the only one of its kind in there, so I assume that it's today's. Six of the names on it belong to the soldiers who were killed in the forest, which leaves twenty-one men staffing the castle. That's good news, because I might have to perform a top-to-bottom search of the castle to find Apple Bloom, and having such a small number of guards means that I can slip through—"

"Hold on now," said Applejack, frowning. "Y'all keep sayin' 'I.' Not 'we.'"

"Yes. Because I'm going in there alone."

"My apple-buckin' hiney, you are," said Applejack flatly.

Could have done without the reference to pony butt.

"Her phrasing may be crude, but Applejack is right," said Rarity. "We're all here for Apple Bloom, Snake, and so we all go together." There was a slight look of disgust on her face, probably over what Applejack said.

"That's a lovely sentiment," I said, drawing once again on my deepest reserves of patience. "But—"

"'But' nothing!" snapped Rainbow Dash. She beat her wings furiously, raising herself to my eye level. "We didn't bring you to this castle so you could ditch us at the home stretch and go off on your own."

"One of us stands a better chance of getting through the keep undetected than all eight of us," I calmly pointed out.

"Yeah, right," said Spike bitterly. He folded his arms. "You gonna give us all the speech about how we can't handle ourselves now?"

My eyelid twitched. I'd hit my quota of back-talking children with Apple Bloom; I needed another one like I needed a melanoma. 

"Everypony, stop," said Twilight in a commanding, authoritative voice, cutting me off before I could respond properly to Spike. "Girls, Spike, Snake, everypony just simmer down, and we'll talk this over." 

Twilight looked at me first. "Snake, I understand that this kind of thing is your specialty, and I get that you want to do things your way, alone. But you can't possibly expect any of us, especially Applejack, to stay behind when Apple Bloom's life could be at stake. We came out here to rescue her, and we can't just sit back and wait while you get the job done for us."

Twilight turned to the others. "And I know how desperately everypony wants to get Apple Bloom back. But Snake knows this business better than any of us. Second-guessing him at this point isn't going to get us anywhere." She looked back at me. "We're so close to finishing what we set out to do. We can't start bickering like this, or we'll never get anything done. So let's compromise."

Compromise. I could have been halfway to liberating Apple Bloom in the time it took to get through that argument, and Twilight wanted to compromise. Otacon didn't throw himself into rescuing Emma personally. He let Jack take care of it, because he knew that he was needed elsewhere, and that Jack was better equipped to save her than he was. Then again, these ponies had proven that they could handle themselves in a fight better than Otacon could (a fact which I promised myself I'd tease him about if I ever saw him again), which probably inflated their senses of how valuable they were to this mission. Fending off a pack of bloodthirsty monsters and slipping past heavily armed soldiers undetected were not the same thing, though, and they didn't seem to understand that.

There was a brief moment where I thought about tranquilizing the lot of them and getting Apple Bloom myself, but I decided not to do that. I didn't know that they'd all be awake by the time I got back, or that I'd be able to rouse them, and while I have a history of carrying copious amounts of equipment without trouble, I doubted that I could carry six ponies and a dragon all on my own. Compromise it was. 

"Assuming the memo was accurate, there are twenty-one soldiers in that keep," I said. "That means that they're spread pretty thin, but not so thin that all eight of us could sneak through."

"Okay," said Twilight. "Then how many of us could go without risking getting caught?"

I considered that for a moment. "Ideally, I'd go alone." Rainbow Dash flared her nostrils angrily. "Of course, that isn't an option anymore. So... two of you, I suppose." Honestly, the fewer of them that came along for the ride, the better, but Applejack would no doubt want to accompany me, and the other six of them wouldn't take kindly to being left out. I had to allow them a token presence, for the sake of unit cohesion.

"Prob'ly goes without sayin', but I'm comin'," said Applejack. Just as I thought. "Who else?" 

"Well, um, before anypony asks..." Fluttershy looked meekly at Applejack. "I'm sorry, I know I said I'd go with you, but stealth is just such a stressful thing, and I—"

"Sugarcube, I meant what I said before." Applejack smiled kindly at Fluttershy. "Ya don't owe me anythin'. I won't hold it against you if y'all sit this part o'the trip out."

Fluttershy breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness." She nodded apologetically to me. "Sorry, Snake."

"Don't worry about it," I said. Silently, I added I wouldn't have brought you if you'd begged.

"Well, I think it's pretty obvious who should go," said Rainbow Dash proudly. "Between me and Applejack, you won't find a more butt-kickin' duo. And I have a true gift for staying out of sight. Remember how good I was at scouting earlier?" She smirked at me. "Sorry, Snake, but it looks like you're stuck with—"

"Twilight," I said.

Twilight Sparkle started, her eyes wide, and Rainbow Dash's jaw dropped. Pinkie helpfully reached over and closed it for her. "Uh, heh, Snake," said Rainbow Dash through clenched teeth. "That isn't how you say 'Rainbow Dash.'"

"Twilight's horn gives her an added dimension of versatility," I said, avoiding the word "magic" at all costs. "Might give us an edge in there. Who knows?" I looked at Twilight, then at the group. "Unless there are any objections."

"Uh, well..." Twilight blushed a little. "Versatility? Really?"

I shrugged. Really, I was just fishing for an excuse to not bring Rainbow Dash along.

Twilight coughed and cleared her throat. "I mean, of course I'll go with the two of you. Happy to do it!" 

Rainbow Dash folded her forelegs grumpily. "Yeah, 'versatility,' sure. Maybe there's a big scary bookshelf in there that needs re-alphabetizing."

"Oh, don't be so bitter," Rarity chided. "It's unbecoming." She looked at me. "What of the rest of us, then?"

I gestured at the door we'd come through. "Keep the exit secured. If we pull this off, we'll still need a way out. And if things go badly in there, we'll need reinforcements. Just wait." 

"Sure. Waiting." Rainbow Dash fluttered back to the ground, trotted over to the pedestal, and flopped onto her belly beneath it. "I hate waiting."

"Don't mind her, Snake," said Twilight. "Rainbow's just passionate about getting Apple Bloom back, that's all."

I wondered how often Rainbow Dash had that excuse to act like a jackass. 

"If there's nothing else," I said, turning back to the door that led to the keep, "then we we should probably get moving. Stay low, stay quiet, and stay out of sight. Don't attract attention, and don't get into a fight unless you have no other option."

"Don't get spotted, don't go buckin' critters left 'n right," said Applejack. "Sounds easy enough to remember."

My entire livelihood, boiled down to two sentences, spoken with a country-fried Southern accent. Never had I felt so belittled. I pushed the door open.

"Rarity?" asked Twilight. 

I let out an exasperated sigh. What the hell—

"Look after him for me? Please?" 

Oh.

"Darling," said Rarity, sounding almost offended. "Did you really think you needed to ask?"

Twilight couldn't not have been aware of Spike's growing inferiority complex. I wonder how she figured assigning him a babysitter would help matters at all. Maybe she knew something I didn't. 

Irrelevant. I drew Lucky Number SeveN and stared down its sights, holding the door open as my two new partners followed me out.





The gatehouse led into the remnants of a corridor that, I guessed, once provided a handy killzone for the castle's defenders in the event of invasion. There wasn't much left of the corridor's walls, but now and then we'd pass a mostly intact section with an arrow loop carved into it, or a taller section with a notch where I supposed the defenders would have kept a boiling pot of lead. Old cliches are the best kinds of cliches. At the end of the corridor was another crumbling, unsound wall and gate. Taking point, I pushed the gate open, and scanned the area for threats, finding none. I motioned the two ponies through and shut the door behind me. 

We stood upon an ornately carved staircase that rose no more than a meter off the ground. The door led into the spacious, circular courtyard that Rainbow Dash described. Pegasus Wings had turned the courtyard into a makeshift helipad. Chinook helicopters, six of them, sat parked around the edges of the circle, in front of the twisted, broken remnants of what had once been a fence that ran around the courtyard's perimeter. The centerpiece of the helipad, as Pinkie Pie would put it, was a sight that made my heart sink: A fully armed Hind D gunship. All the choppers were painted in blue camouflage.

Immediately, I understood what Rainbow Dash meant when she said "giant thingies." 

"What are those?" whispered Twilight. She crouched low to the ground, following my instructions appropriately, if too literally. "I can see windows in them, but they don't look like they'd travel well on land. Airships?"

"Not a bad guess," I said quietly. "They're helicopters."

"They're what?" asked Applejack, squinting at the docked aircraft. "Heli-what-now?"

The wonders of a society of Luddite ponies. "Aerial vehicles," I explained. "Smaller and faster than airships. The ones around the circle are transports. The one in the middle is an attack craft." 

"Oh," said Applejack. "Neat."

The path leading to the keep's entrance was at the leftmost side of the circle. The keep itself looked to be in better condition than the gatehouse. Its upper levels were crumbling and broken, but everything below looked reasonably intact, if overgrown. Separating the courtyard from the keep was a mostly intact wall and a portcullis, which had a rather odd, lumpy patch of moss on it. The early evening sun, already starting to descend, shone on the far side of the portcullus and keep, which, if nothing else, told me which direction was west.

There was no one in sight, but that didn't mean we were alone. There were, after all, multiple vehicles for people to conceal themselves in. Possibilities ran from engineers addressing mechanical problems to some non-coms enjoying forbidden fraternization away from the prying eyes of the chain of command. So I holstered Lucky Number SeveN, wondering why I'd drawn an unsuppressed firearm in the first place, and unslung the sniper rifle (to scout, not to be a voyeur). 

Twilight noticed and asked "You aren't going to start shooting, are you? Because I thought you said to avoid conflict."

I glanced at Twilight and wordlessly tapped on the scope. She mouthed a silent "oh," (the same way, I noted, that Spike had) and went back to laying low, while I felt a slight pang of disappointment. I was kind of hoping that she had a hidden cache of binoculars that I could borrow from too.

Through the scope, I could see into the windows of the choppers. One by one, I checked them, but they all turned up empty. The crosshair fell on the Hind D, and for a moment, I contemplated taking a potshot at the rotors. A well-placed bullet might cripple the thing, saving me the trouble of shooting it down later. 

The hatch on the side of the Hind suddenly opened, and out stepped a fair-skinned man with a buzzcut, wearing a stained, greasy jumpsuit. "Damn," I breathed. "Guess we aren't alone after all." And there we were, completely exposed. 

I lowered the rifle and made for the left banister. Motioning for the others to follow, I vaulted over it and landed upon the grass below. Twilight and Applejack followed, one after the other, landing on either side of me. We moved swiftly, diving through a gap in the old fence, and took cover behind a Chinook. I dropped to my belly and crawled underneath the chopper, then stared through the scope at the man by the Hind. Judging by his clothing and state of cleanliness, I guessed that he was a mechanic. Judging by his presence at the helipad, specifically at the Hind, I guessed that he was performing some maintenance. Judging by the way he kicked at the gunship's chassis and swore in Finnish (faint echoes of which carried to our hiding place), I guessed that he wasn't having much success. 

Good, I thought. If the Hind is down, then that's one less complication to deal with down the line. I crawled out from under the chopper, climbed back to my feet, and glanced out of our cover. Between us and the portcullis was another chopper, and between us and that chopper was nothing but open ground. I sucked in a breath. We'd have to go quickly.

"Something up on the portcullis just flashed," said Twilight worriedly.

"Flashed?'" I asked. "What do you mean 'flashed'?" I knelt beside her and raised the rifle's scope back to my eye.

"See that mossy overgrowth?" asked Twilight, pointing a purple hoof. "It was only there for a split second, but I definitely saw something flash."

Upon closer inspection, the overgrowth looked very odd and out of place. It was a different color than the rest of the moss covering the castle, and it didn't resemble moss at all. It looked more like grass. Lumpy, man-shaped grass, with a long, protruding section, which itself looked less like grass and more like the concealed barrel of a rifle.

"It's a ghillie suit," I said in mild amazement. "That's a sniper up there. That flash must have been..." I glanced over my shoulder, at the sun shining its orange light onto the portcullis. "It was the glare from the sun on the rifle's scope. There's just enough light there that the scope reflected it." With sincere respect, I added "That was a good catch, Twilight."

"What do we do now?" whispered Applejack. "That guy'll see us 'fore we get anywhere near him."

"I could take him out right now," I said. "But the gunshot would alert that mechanic, and he could call for help. The M9's suppressed, but it's too difficult a shot with a handgun." I lowered the rifle and swore.

Twilight patted me on the shoulder, looking quite pleased with herself. "You know," she said slyly, "Starswirl the Bearded once wrote 'Where conventional thinking ends, the unorthodox begins.'"

"Uh-huh," said Applejack dryly. "I think I got that in a fortune cookie once." 

Twilight glowered at her.

"You're suggesting we think outside the box?" I asked. "Do you have any ideas?"

Twilight looked long and hard at the sniper in the ghillie suit. Slowly, she turned to me, looking intently at my rifle. A sinister grin spread across her face. 

If her suggestion was to shoot him, I'd whack her.





Designated marksman Dan Hoyer lay on his belly and stared through the scope of his rifle at the courtyard stretched out in front of him. He was not the sharpest knife in the squadron, having been forced into military service after failing the GED three consecutive times, yet even he had the sense to notice that his role was redundant and pointless, because if the gatehouse were actually well protected, there wouldn't be any need for a sniper to keep watch over the helicopters. He'd brought his concerns to Captain Case that morning, as the captain and a squad prepared to follow Mr. Trenton into the forest, in pursuit of the beast that had ambushed a patrol the night before.

Captain Case had listened thoughtfully to Hoyer's suggestions. When he'd finished explaining his feelings on the situation, the captain clapped him on the shoulder. "Son," he said, "I could spend the rest of my life writing about all the idiot mistakes that this army's made lately, and I still wouldn't scratch the surface."

"Then you'll talk to the commander?" Hoyer had asked hopefully.

When the captain finished laughing and drying his eyes, he said "If the commander gave half as many fucks about my opinion as he did about sucking up to our chickenshit client, we wouldn't even be here right now, and there'd be no need to complain." And that was that.

The ghillie suit was itchy, heavy, and uncomfortable, and barely resembled the moss it was supposed to mimic. His M1903 Springfield rifle, an antique in the 21st century, was badly maintained, prone to jamming, and the lens on the scope had a crack in it. He'd given it to Quartermaster Loomis to repair, yet it seemed to have returned to him in even worse condition than he'd left it. Just once, he wished he could use one of the M24s, but those were reserved for the front-line sentries at the staging area. If he ever found out that someone at the castle was using an M24, he promised himself, he'd steal it out from under the poor idiot's nose. 

Once again, the sun glanced off of his scope, and he pulled away with a grimace. "Stupid sun," he muttered. "Thinks it's such hot shit." He shook his head, grumbling, and raised the scope back to his eye.

The gun suddenly began to shimmer. A purple aura encased it, barrel to stock, and to Hoyer's shock, it levitated out of his hands. "That's new," he said astutely. He grabbed for it, but it moved out of his reach, and rotated in midair until the barrel pointed directly at his forehead.

Suddenly, designated marksman Dan Hoyer felt very afraid.

"O, pathetic human!" the gun spoke in a deep, warbley voice. "Thou hast displeased the guardian spirits of this place! We have come to lay our judgment upon thee!"

Hoyer rose to his knees, trembling, and swallowed hard. "R-really? No foolin', huh?"

Far away, hidden behind the bulk of a Boeing CH-47 helicopter, Twilight Sparkle kept the rifle levitated, projecting her voice through the aura she used to manipulate it. 

Beside her was Applejack, her face hidden in her hooves. "Twilight, this is dang foolish," she said, her words muffled.

"Quiet," hissed Snake, kneeling behind the two ponies. He held the directional microphone in one hand and used the other to press an earbud, which was connected to the microphone, into his ear. "He's buying it. Pull back on the bolt. The little lever on the side."

Twilight felt through her aura for the lever Snake was talking about. She found it, but hesitated, and looked at him, biting her lip. "It won't fire, will it?" 

"No," said Snake. "Just do it."

Relieved, Twilight complied, but it jammed before she could pull it back. She glanced at Snake, who just shrugged and waved for her to continue.

"Listen well, thou insignificant... worm!" said the gun. "In ancient times, we swore to keep watch over this place, in the name of our Great and Powerful lord... the Great and Powerful..." The voice paused, as if hesitating. 

"...The great and powerful lord...?" prompted Hoyer. "Hey, is the gun jammed?"

"Thou impudent and wretched mortal!" boomed the gun, thrusting itself into Hoyer's face. Hoyer recoiled and fell backward onto his ass. "We expect patience when we pause for dramatic effect! Our lord, the Great and Powerful... er... Smooze... demands it!"

Hoyer glanced nervously between the gun's barrel and scope, wondering which part the voice was coming out of. "He demands patience, or long pauses?" he asked.

"Indeed!"

At the Chinook, Snake rose, patting Twilight on the shoulder. "Nice. Keep him focused on the gun. Take him out when we're through. Applejack, let's move."

"This is never gonna—"

"Applejack!" snapped Snake. The orange mare sighed, rolled her eyes, and darted for cover behind the next Chinook. Snake followed closely, keeping the microphone in one hand trained on the sniper, and his Beretta in his other hand trained on the Hind's mechanic.

"All this time, thou hast encroached here, and what hast thou given back to the spirits of this place?" demanded the gun. "Nothing but... iron deficiency, and a... a bloated, constricted... gastrointestinal system!"

"What the hell does that even—"

"Well, the spirits will have nothing more of it! The Great and Powerful Smooze will have thy backsides for lunch! And for dessert, he will devour... thy very souls!" Deep, forced-sounding laughter rolled from the rifle.

"I'm sorry!" said Hoyer. "I didn't mean to, uh... encroach! How can I make it up to you?"

Snake and Applejack passed beneath the portcullis, and Twilight felt fulfillment at the success of one of her plans. "Thou must nap! Yes, nap! For one thousand hours!"

"'Nap?'" asked Hoyer. "How will that—"

Twilight swung the rifle, hard, cracking its buttstock against Hoyer's face. The sniper fell, unconscious, against the cold roof of the portcullis. "I didn't realize being a ham was so much fun," she mused. "No wonder Trixie loves it so much." She galloped to the portcullis.

The Finnish mechanic chanced to look up as Twilight sprinted. He caught sight of the purple unicorn, opened his mouth to shout, and promptly collapsed into a sleeping ball as a tranquilizer dart stuck him in the neck. 

Snake cocked the M9, nodding his approval at Twilight. He looked sidelong at Applejack beside him. "Some fortune cookie."





I didn't have any complaints about Twilight's plan, or its success. It was deeply gratifying to have the patented Equestrian lunacy working for me for a change. I figured that as long as the wind was blowing my way, I had no cause to bitch.

The double doors of the keep were shut. I braced myself against one door; Twilight and Applejack pressed against the wall behind me. I counted down from three; on three, I pushed my door open and moved into the keep's antechamber with my M9 drawn. 

The room, while large, was smaller than the gatehouse, and had the advantage of an intact ceiling. It was rectangular, with the same worn, Roman-esque columns jutting from floor to ceiling. Wedged between two columns was a pair of man-sized lockers, which I took note of as potential hiding places. Crates and cardboard boxes were stacked along the wall on my left. Fluorescent lamps were placed in the four corners of the room, but the lighting they gave off was dim at best. Each lamp had a neon orange cord that ran down a winding staircase on the room's right-hand side. Besides that staircase, there were two other corridors that led out of the room.  On the left was another staircase leading to the upper levels, which I only noticed after passing the stacked crates and boxes. By hiding behind them, I could avoid the line of sight of anybody coming from the upper level. Directly ahead of us was a corridor that stretched far, its endpoint shrouded in darkness. There was no way to tell how it extended, or in what direction it ultimately ran. Like the gatehouse, the antechamber was unguarded, a fact which I found difficult to swallow. There were supposed to be twenty-one soldiers in this castle. Where the hell were they?

Twilight trotted to the stairs on the right and looked down. "If I remember the layout correctly from last time, then there isn't much down the front corridor besides the great hall and a couple of adjoining rooms – the kitchen, maybe a lavatory; we didn't explore. I doubt they keep prisoners on the upper levels. If they're keeping Apple Bloom anywhere around here, it's got to be in the lower levels, out of sight."

"You sure 'bout that?" asked Applejack. "I could see 'em locking her upstairs in a tower or somethin', like in some old mare's tale."

"Could be," said Twilight. "But I'd think that the upper levels would be reserved for things like crew quarters, or offices. That leaves the lower levels for things like holding cells, storage. What do you think Snake?"

What indeed. "Something isn't right here," I said. "Trenton all but threw the doors open for us when we fought in the forest. We've been here for a while now, and aside from a couple of idiot sentries and a mechanic, we haven't faced any opposition."

"You're suggesting Rainbow Dash was right before? That this is a trap?" asked Twilight. "If it is, it isn't a very good one. They could have ambushed us in the gatehouse as soon as we walked in, but they didn't."

"Maybe it isn't as simple as a trap," I suggested. "Maybe there's some other element at play here." Trenton made a threat on Apple Bloom's life to ensure that we'd follow him to the castle, even after telling me that he had standing orders not to attack ponies. It was an obvious ploy, but we walked into it regardless. So how come we hadn't been captured or gunned down yet? 

The sound of footfalls descending the left-side staircase brought us back to the moment. I rushed to the stack of cardboard boxes. By a stroke of luck, there was one empty box piled on top. I looked at it, then at the two ponies. If a box this size could fit a grown man comfortably, it stood to reason that it could fit two miniature horses. 

"Here," I said, tossing them the box. "Get under there and stay quiet."

Twilight looked skeptically at the box. "How many missions did you say you'd gone on again?" she asked. 

The footsteps drew closer now. I could see the shadows of two men cast upon the wall of the stairwell. "Just do it!" I hissed. Twilight didn't look sold, but she complied, levitating the box over herself and Applejack. The two ponies huddled close to one another as Twilight dropped it over them and, moving together with a surprising amount of efficiency, they scurried into the corner.

"...but you know what I miss the most?" asked a voice coming from the stairwell.

Hiding in the locker was not an option. I dove for cover behind the crates stacked against the wall, braced my back against them, and held the M9 ready just as the two soldiers entered the room. 

"Not having to deal with that maniac Nigel every time you want to take a crap?" asked the other of the two.

"Close," said the first soldier wistfully. "Indoor plumbing." The two sighed together.

"Hey, wait a second." I heard a soft click, the sound of a safety being switched off. "That box."

"What about it?" said the first. "C'mon, it's just Loomis pulling the Solid Snake prank again."

I admit a slight curiosity as to how that prank worked.

"Loomis left for the staging area this morning," said the second. "Besides, after Nigel put him in a sling that one time, he wouldn't even think of trying it again." He edged toward the box with his AK leveled, walking right past the stacked crates I hid against. "Whoever's in there, come out now, and I promise to only shoot you a little bit!" He chuckled at his witticism.

My grip on the M9 tightened, and I inhaled deeply. I raised my gun, aiming for the soldier's neck.

A purple aura encased the box, and it flew forward, smacking the soldier in the face. It was a purely diversionary move, same as what I'd pulled on the red pony back in the barn. Applejack pivoted on her front legs, reared her hind legs back, and bucked the soldier squarely in the pelvis. He curled into himself and fell backward with the wind knocked out of him, dropping his AK.

Regardless of their quirks (or, in Pinkie's case, lunacy), these ponies had initiative, and I liked that in them. I jumped from my cover, spun around, and fired a dart into the neck of the first soldier before he could react. He thudded against the cold stone floor. 

I released a long sigh of relief and moved to stand over the soldier Applejack had taken down. She advanced on him slowly, teeth set and eyes narrowed. The soldier struggled to catch his breath and draw his sidearm. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I said, cocking the M9 for emphasis (and to load a new round).

The soldier rolled his balaclava-clad head backward to look at me, and his eyes bulged. He'd managed to draw his M1911 halfway from its holster, but now his fingers slowly uncurled from it, and he raised both hands over his head in a submissive gesture. He still panted hard, and I think he was crying a little bit.

"Catch your breath," I ordered, kneeling beside him. I rested my arm on my bent right knee and leaned forward. "Then start talking. Where are the other soldiers?"

The soldier squeezed his eyes shut. He made a series of guttural choking sounds, but failed to form a coherent word out of them. "G... g... " Gradually, he formed a syllable. "Go..."

"Gone?" Twilight supplied. "Gone where? And why?"

"God," he whimpered. "God, God, please God help me, please..."

Twilight pressed a hoof against her face and shook her head. 

My sentiments exactly, I thought. By Case's count, there were three hundred good soldiers in Pegasus Wings and fifty incompetents, and I kept running into the latter. Sure, it made my life easier, but it was also embarrassing to see grown men acting so pathetically.

The soldier's eyes opened. He looked around the room quickly, no doubt searching for a potential avenue of escape. Given how hard Applejack had hit his pelvis, though, I figured it'd take a miracle to get him mobile. His eyes fell on my right leg, where Captain Case's Model 500 was strapped to my ankle, and they bulged again. "God," he whimpered pitiably. 

I set my M9 on the ground and drew the revolver, holding it up so that he could see it. "You know this gun, don't you?" I asked. "You know who it belongs to."

The soldier's lower lip trembled, and he nodded. "Trenton said that the captain got eaten by the big cat," he sobbed. 

"Well, he done fibbed. Now, you're gonna answer my question first, y'hear?" growled Applejack. "We're lookin' for a filly, heard your buddy Trenton brought her here." She placed a hoof on his stomach and started applying pressure. "Be real nice if you could help us find her." 

The soldier's red eyes leaked a couple more tears. I glanced at Twilight; she was looking hard at Applejack, her mouth hanging open slightly, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Was Applejack typically this violent, or was she  just having a particularly bad day? With her sister missing, I could believe the latter.

"Dungeon!" he gasped. His voice was harsh and breathy; he still hadn't recovered from Applejack's attack "She's in the dungeon – oh God, help me please..."

Applejack leaned in close, coming almost nose-to-nose with the soldier. The length of her hat's brim was the only thing keeping them apart. "If any of you've done a thing t'hurt her..."

The soldier shook his head rapidly. "No! No! I mean, Nigel wanted to, but I stopped him! I-in fact, I tried to help her! I brought her food, and tried to get her to talk to me, and—"

"You think this is a pettin' zoo?!" snapped Applejack. The soldier shut his eyes tightly and sobbed. 

Twilight interceded, placing a hoof on Applejack's shoulder and drawing her away. "Better not be lyin'," said Applejack. The soldier rolled onto his side and sniffled.

"Moving on to my questions, now," I said, pulling back on the gun's hammer (once again, strictly for emphasis). "For your sake, we'll start off slow. Who's Nigel?" 

The soldier shook his head fearfully. "Oh, no no no no no, you don't want to fuck with Nigel, man. He's crazy."

"I asked who he was," I said. "Not for advice."

"Right!" squeaked the soldier. "Right! Nigel. He's on prisoner detail right now, because he spends all his time off duty in that basement. I told the officer on duty not to let him watch her, but he said it was the commander's decision, and—"

"Enough." I exchanged a look with Applejack. She nodded, grimacing. I almost pitied poor Nigel. "Where are the other soldiers?"

The soldier swallowed hard. He reached up to tug his balaclava over his nose, wiped it with his sleeve, and pulled it back down. "M-most of the army's at the... at the s-s-staging area already. The only ones left are the chopper pilots and the armor crews."

"'Choppers?'" asked Twilight. "Does he mean the—"

"Big metal thingies," I interrupted. "Stay focused." I leaned forward a little more. "Where is Metal Gear? Is it already armed with the nuclear missile?"

Our hostage never took his eyes off of the revolver. "Staging area. We trucked it there in pieces, then started putting them together. I-I don't know if it's ready yet; I'm not assigned to that part of the base. And I don't know how close to being ready it is either!"

Dammit. Then there was no way to know how much time we had. "How do I get to the staging area?"

The soldier pointed weakly down the corridor at the front of the room. "Head out the Great Hall and take the path that leads past the way you came in. It's a couple hours on foot."

"'The way I came in?'" What was he babbling about? "I came in through the gatehouse." 

"No, no, not that. Not the backdoor. I mean the way you came in here." His voice was stronger now, with a little more energy to it, and he wasn't sobbing on every other syllable anymore, which I guessed was progress. "There's only one way in and out, right? And we're sitting on it."

I glanced at Twilight. She looked away from Applejack to meet my gaze, and shrugged. 

"Thanks," I muttered, shooting Twilight a look. I returned the revolver to its spot on my ankle, collected my Beretta and rose to my feet. "You've been a real help."

"I just wanted to, you know, because..." He pointed at Applejack. "She hits really, really hard, and the guy who had that gun before you was a real badass... so if you killed him, that means you're an even bigger badass... so that means—" 

Without looking, I shot him in the neck with the M9, and he fell asleep. "Threaten him into talking, and he never shuts up," I muttered, racking the gun's slide. I nodded at the two ponies. "Nice job on that ambush."

Applejack molded her grimace into a smirk that disturbed even me. "Years of applebuckin'. It's kept me in shape. That Nigel feller touches Apple Bloom, he'll get the same."

"Backdoor, huh?" Twilight murmured. I raised an eyebrow at her. She clarified. "He corrected you when you said we came in through the gatehouse. 'Not the backdoor.'"

That was a nice catch. I didn't even notice it; I was too busy trying to get a sane answer from the idiot. "The gatehouse is at the front of the castle, but the way he talked, it sounds like we came in through the rear of the base," I said. "But why would they leave their backside exposed like that?" 

I was grateful that Rainbow Dash wasn't there to hear that last bit.

"Well, they've got the Everfree Forest on their doorstep," said Applejack. "Guess they prob'ly figure that nothin's ever gonna get through that, so they don't need to worry so much 'bout coverin' it."

"We got through it," I pointed out. "And Zecora lived in there."

"Didn't say it was smart, Snake," said Applejack.

Twilight levitated the cardboard box off the ground and floated it over to herself. "Does this trick ever actually work?" she asked, turning it over to examine the interior. "I can't see anypony being fooled so easily."

"I never used it on a pony before, so I don't know," I said. The red stallion flashed in my mind again. "Actually, that's not entirely..."

Applejack, apparently uninterested in the story, turned to the descending staircase. "So I guess you was right after all, Twilight. Dungeon it is." 

"Normally I enjoy being right," said Twilight. She dropped the box and peered down the stairs. "But I have some mixed feelings this time. Dungeons, ugh." She shuddered. "So cramped, so claustrophobic. So filthy."

Applejack rolled her eyes. "The way you're talkin', it sounds like we brought the wrong unicorn by mistake." 

I looked between the stairway leading to the dungeon and the other corridor. The one that led to the Great Hall, to the staging area, to Metal Gear. The doomsday clock was ticking, and I had no idea how close it was to midnight. Metal Gear could be ready to fire at any moment; there was really no time to lose. But Apple Bloom still needed rescuing. That was still on my shoulders.

Then again... I'd gotten them this far. If they pulled Apple Bloom out of this, then I'd have done my part to save her. If that idiot was right, then there was precious little standing between them and liberation. Just a crazed man named Nigel, and at that point, I didn't doubt the ponies' abilities against Pegasus Wings. And if the others stood their ground, as instructed, then there would still be a way out. They could coast on home and go back to their lives, doing whatever the hell it was that colorful ponies did when they didn't have to worry about nuclear annihilation. There were a lot of ifs, sure, but at least they were plausible ifs.

And I could do what I came to Equestria to do, and put an end to this insurrection once and for all. 

"Hey Snake?" asked Twilight. "Are you coming?"

I looked past her, over her shoulder at the stairs leading to the dungeon, and shook my head. "Sorry. But I think this is where we part ways."

"What? What're you on about?" Applejack asked, incredulous. "You said you'd help me get m'sister back, remember?"

"And I have," I said. "The way is clear. Your friends have the exit covered. Go down there, spring your sister, and go home."

"Well, what about you?" asked Twilight. "What are you going to do?"

I gestured at the corridor that led to the great hall. "We don't know how much time's left until Metal Gear is ready to fire. If I'm going to have any chance at stopping that thing, I need to go now." 

"Snake, get serious," said Applejack, adjusting her hat on her head. "How big an army are you goin' up against? You really think you can get through 'em and take out that weapon all by yer lonesome?"

"Approximately three hundred and fifty strong," I said coolly. "And believe me when I say that I've faced longer odds than that." 

Truthfully, I hadn't; this was as bad as it'd ever been for me. At least on Shadow Moses, I was better armed. Right now, the closest thing I had to artillery was a useless revolver. 

"We don't have any other options," I said, as much to myself as to Applejack. "For all we know, it's already too late. Get Apple Bloom back, go home, and get word out to the powers that be about everything that's going on out here. If I don't make it, then at least you'll still have a fighting chance."

Neither of them looked like the enjoyed the idea of me going off on what sounded like a suicide mission alone. But gradually, Twilight nodded. "If you're sure, Snake," she said softly. She sounded hurt, downcast. Worried. 

Shit. We'd just met and she was already attached enough to worry for me. Maybe I had it all wrong worrying that Fluttershy was the one with the inappropriate cross-species attraction.

"We might not meet again," I said. Part of me was grateful; another was, for some reason, disappointed. "For what it's worth, I couldn't have gotten as far as I did without your help." 

"Neither could we," said Applejack. She doffed her hat and held it against her chest, smiling sadly. "I won't forget how you helped us, Snake. How you helped Apple Bloom... an' how you helped me. Thank you." She bowed her head, turned, and began making her way down the stairs, leaving Twilight and I alone.

I stooped to retrieve the box she'd dropped and offered it to her. "Believe it or not, a cardboard box is indispensable on a sneaking mission," I said. "I can't even begin to list the number of agents whose lives were saved by a handy cardboard box."

Twilight blinked, squeezing her eyes shut a little longer and a little tighter than normal. She levitated the box out of my hands and smiled. "I'll keep it close, Snake. Don't get killed out there, okay?"

"You too." I was about to turn away when another thought occurred to me. "Assuming things go sour, though, I left instructions for back-up to follow me in. You'll know them when you see them."

"Back-up?" Twilight asked. "More guys like you?"

That was almost insulting. Not that she'd know. 

"Something like that," I said. "You'll be in good hands, take my word for it. Now go save the day. I've still got a job to do."

Twilight nodded. She gave me one last smile before she, too, vanished down the stairs and around the corner. The only trace of her was the purple glow of her aura around the box as she descended, and soon enough, even that was gone.

I felt oddly hollow with her and Applejack gone. Figured it was because I didn't do anything to directly save Apple Bloom, the way I told myself I would. It didn't matter anymore, though. Odds were good that I wouldn't be seeing them ever again, and I had no time to dwell on the thought.

The most pressing matter on my agenda was hiding the two soldiers I'd tranquilized. Fortunately, in a rare stroke of luck, the doors to the out-of-place lockers opened easily. One of the lockers was empty, to my disappointment, but it would still serve a useful purpose. I hefted the body of the first soldier, dragged him to the locker, and stuffed him inside, slamming the door shut and locking it after him. Then, because one good turn deserved another, I opened the second locker.

"Hot damn," I muttered. 

Five grenades (four of them frags, one incendiary) and a small supply of C-4 sat in a box inside of the locker. It doesn't sound like much, but without any sort of explosive or missile, I may as well have attacked Metal Gear with a water gun.  I thanked whatever idiot thought it would be a good idea to keep the explosives in so random a location, and pocketed them. Then I dragged the second soldier over, stuffed him into the locker, and shut it in his face. 

Feeling better than ever about my odds, I drew the Beretta and continued on my way. 





Twilight found Applejack waiting for further down on the stairs. "You know somethin', sugarcube?" she said, speaking softly. "Sure, Snake's kinda gruff, but I think I'm gonna miss him all the same." 

"Yeah. Yeah, me too," said Twilight. She made sure that Applejack wasn't looking, then wiped at her eyes. "He's definitely a unique character." 

"You sound upset, Twi," said Applejack. "Everythin' okay?"

I made a new friend and let him go off on a suicide mission on the same day.

"I don't like goodbyes. That's all."

Quietly, they descended the stairs. There were incandescent lightbulbs strung along the ceiling, but their light was so dim as to be next to useless. The light from Twilight's aura was far more helpful in illuminating the way. Their hooves against the stone steps made an unavoidable clopping sound, so they stepped as lightly and carefully as they could to minimize it.

Twilight kept her eye on Applejack as they wound their way down the spiral staircase. She could only imagine the extent of Applejack's duress, with her sister kidnapped and her body battered by the day's series of confrontations, but her behavior since they met in the morning exposed a side of her that she never thought she'd see. From her fury in the library, when Applejack discovered that Twilight hid a secret from her, to her advancing on that hapless soldier with murder in her eyes, Twilight actually felt afraid of one of her friends for the first time. 

They were none of them killers. Even during the fight with the timberwolves, when their lives were at stake, they fought only to win, not to kill, and what death the battle did produce nearly broke poor Fluttershy's spirit. Sure, there were moments in the past – intense, life-or-death situations – where Twilight had asked herself how far she'd be willing to go, if she'd kill in a situation that necessitated it. Up until then, she never thought she could go through with it, but mere hours ago, she'd put a boulder over a wolf who held Spike in its jaws. She thought about Applejack threatening the soldier, hurting him to get the answer she needed, and realized that, at heart, the situations weren't so different from one another. 

So, she thought, if Fluttershy hadn't stepped in and scared the timberwolf away, what would have happened? Would I have killed to save Spike's life? 

"Applejack," she asked hesitantly. "I... can I ask you a question?"

"Ain't really the best time for it, sugarcube," said Applejack, keeping her voice hushed. "We've gabbed a lot durin' this mission, but Snake was right; it ain't smart t'flap yer gums when sneakin' around."

"I know that," said Twilight. "But I've been thinking—"

"See," said Applejack with a soft chuckle, "now there's your problem."

Twilight tried to laugh with her, but she couldn't find humor in the joke. "That soldier from before, the one you..." 

Applejack slowed, halting mid-step. 

Twilight took a deep breath. "What I'm trying to ask is... would you have killed him, if it meant saving Apple Bloom?"

Slowly, Applejack rotated her head to look Twilight in the eye. The glow of Twilight's aura, combined with the shadow cast by her hat's brim, kept most of her face shrouded in shadow. Her bright green eyes stood out, however, and the image disturbed Twilight enough that she had to look away from her friend's gaze. 

"Why do you ask, Twi?"

Twilight forced herself to look Applejack in the eye, and tried hard to gather her thoughts. "You're scaring me," she whispered hoarsely. "I thought you might hurt me when we talked this morning, but I told myself that you were just mad because I'd mislead you. That you wouldn't ever do that. But then, when you interrogated that soldier, you..." She swallowed. "I've never known you to be like that. It..." She swallowed, tried to drudge up more to say, but nothing came. 

Applejack bowed her head, sighed softly, and trotted back up the stairs to Twilight. She wrapped her forelegs around Twilight's neck and pulled her in for a hug.  "I'mma say this once, an' I think you know me well enough t'know that I'm not blowin' hot gas by sayin' it." She rested her cheek against the back of Twilight's neck. "Apple Bloom is my flesh and blood, my one an' only baby sister, an' I promised myself a long, long time ago that I'd never let'er come to no harm. If it ever comes down t'takin' a life for her sake, then there is no choice to make, nothin' t'think about, an' nothin' t'feel guilty about." 

She pulled away, and held Twilight at hoof's length, looking into her eyes. "Remember before when I asked you how you'd feel, iffin' it were Spike an' not Apple Bloom? If you'd blame yourself? If you'd hate yourself? I didn't give you a chance to answer, an' that was unfair of me, an' I apologize. Apologize for scarin' you, too. But after what happened back in the forest, with Spike an' the wolves? I don't think I need an answer."

Twilight wet her suddenly dry lips. "What if it was one of us, and not Apple Bloom?" she asked hesitantly. "Me, or Pinkie, or Dash?"

Applejack sucked her teeth and looked away, knitting her eyebrows together in thought. She drew herself up, raised her head high, squared her shoulders, and looked Twilight straight in the eye again. 

"Y'all are my family. An' I would kill for any one of my family." 

Without another word, she turned away, and resumed her march down the stairs.

A few moments passed where Twilight, too stunned to move, simply stood rooted to her spot. She shook it off and took the stairs in twos to catch up with Applejack. "And," she said, panting, "is that a new feeling? Or have you always felt that way?"

"You might'nt have noticed, Twilight," said Applejack, "but my folks're dead. Losin' yer ma an' pa at a tender age makes you treasure the kin y'got left." She laughed once, quietly, mirthlessly. "Hated Braeburn when we was kids. Hated the way he never shut his dang mouth. Must've been all that time I spent doggin' Big Mac. I got used to the quiet, grew t'prefer it, even." Applejack broke off abruptly, and Twilight wondered if she would stop talking altogether.

"An' then my folks died." Applejack's voice was somber now, more quiet and reserved than before. "Suddenly, puttin' up with the chatter became a hay of a lot easier. Ain't just kin, neither. Once upon a time, I thought Rainbow Dash was a jackass, Pinkie was a brainless buffoon, an' Rarity was a stuck-up snob. Now? I'd lay my life down for any one of 'em. Got a funny notion of family, I s'pose." 

She paused in her stride, and Twilight had to stop at the last second to avoid colliding with her. "Guess what I'm tryin' t'say is that, deep down... yeah, I prob'ly always felt this way. Or at least, I felt this way f'r most'a my life. It just took somethin' like this t'bring it outta me." She shrugged and continued down the stairs, Twilight following close behind.

The farther down they went, the colder it got. Twilight wondered how far into the earth they were going, how deeply delved the castle's catacombs were. She began to notice a sour, acrid stench. It was light, for the time being, but the deeper they went, the stronger it became.

"So, hey, my turn to ask questions," said Applejack. 

"You? Asking?" said Twilight, surprised. "I thought you wanted us to keep quiet."

"Yeah, well, these stairs're takin' a while," said Applejack. "Gotta pass the time somehow. An' besides, I'm a li'l bit worried about you m'self. Yer gettin' right morbid with yer questions. What's eatin' ya?"

"In magic kindergarten, I read an entire volume about proper autopsy procedure," said Twilight. "So this is comparatively normal, by my standards."

"Shucks."

"Yeah..." Twilight looked down at her hooves, watching them tread the worn stone steps one by one. "Do you remember when Snake put down the timberwolf?"

"Considerin' it happened jus' a couple'a hours ago, yeah. Crystal clear."

"I think that's what got me thinking about... killing." The memories played back in her mind. The broken body of the wolf. The quiet, resigned whimpering. Snake's expressionless, emotionless face as he pulled the trigger, his enigmatic final words to the beast. "He was so... cold, so detached when he took that thing's life."

"Maybe not so much," said Applejack. "He seemed almost like he didn't wanna do it, from where I was standin'. I think it got to him a li'l bit."

"But he still did it. Regardless of how he felt, he killed that wolf without hesitation." The gun's deafening roar still reverberated in her mind. Patches of her face were still sticky from where the wolf's sap-like blood had splattered her "I don't want us to get to that point, where we become so desensitized to killing that it just comes naturally to us."

"We won't, sugarcube," said Applejack softly, comfortingly. "Things'll go back t'normal for us after this. You'll see."

"Everyone's here now. Rest easy." He pulled the trigger, and the gun roared.

"Maybe. I hope you're right, Applejack."





The staircase ended in a long, rectangular room, the sight of which sickened and horrified Twilight. 

Decaying torture implements – a rack that still bore the skeletal remains of a long-dead pony, an iron maiden with its door shut partway, a board that held a variety of rusted, but intact, implements – littered the room. The walls were lined with splintered wooden stable doors, each with a tiny, barred window, and a taller, windowless door that didn't seem to resemble a stable. A latrine, she guessed, which would explain the sour smell. She noted with detachment that the cables from the lightbulbs in the stairwell and the extension cords from the lamps upstairs led to a steadily humming generator at the end of the hall. 

This is horrible. Ghastly, she thought. Another thought, unwanted but unshakable, surfaced in her mind. The Princesses ruled Equestria from this castle a thousand years ago. This couldn't have been their idea. Princess Celestia disavowed any involvement with the inequinity of torture a long time ago; she ordered herself to believe that fact, but her heart still felt heavy and cold.

Applejack nudged her, hard, to draw her attention. The orange mare lay low, pressed closely against the ground, and she motioned for Twilight to mimic her. Applejack pointed at the left side of the room, which bore a long, wooden table and a single chair. A muscular giant of a human soldier, wearing a blue sweatshirt embroidered with the Pegasus Wings sigil, camouflage pants, and balaclava, sat in the chair, leaning its backrest against the wall behind him and propping his feet upon the table. His arms were folded and his head bowed, and he snored softly. 

"That'd be our buddy Nigel," muttered Applejack. "S'bigger than I thought he'd be."

Twilight lowered the cardboard box over herself and her friend. "This place – it's a nightmare," she whispered. "You don't think Princess Celestia knew that there was a torture room here, do you?"

"It's her castle, sugarcube," Applejack whispered back. "I think it's dang unlikely that she wouldn'ta known about this.

"But – no! I don't accept that! I know her better than that. You know her better than that. This isn't like her!"

"It's a dungeon, sugarcube. What in the hay were you expectin'?"

"I..." Twilight faltered. "I wasn't expecting... Applejack, what if there's one in Canterlot too? Oh, Princess..."

"Twilight Sparkle, you will not go crazy on me. You will keep it together," said Applejack sternly. "I don't like the idea any more than you do, but it ain't worth losin' yer kibbles 'n bits over. Not right now."

Twilight heard, and understood, what Applejack said. She was right. But this wasn't the kind of thing she could just dismiss. "This is too much. Too much. I can't—"

"My sister is in this room."

Twilight's train of thought stopped cold. 

"You think this doesn't bother me none? Of course it does. Makes my blood boil, in fact. But my sister bein' locked in this dang torture chamber is more important than some thousand year old skeletons in the Princess's closet. I need you in the moment, Twilight."

Still shaken, still unsteady, but remembering why they were there in the first place, Twilight gathered herself. She took a deep breath, sucking in the stale, acrid air, and exhaled slowly. 

"You're right. You're right. I'm sorry." 

"Don't need to apologize. You need to have a nervous breakdown every couple'a weeks to function. Puzzled that out myself a long time ago." 

The joke brought a smile and a hollow laugh from Twilight. That specter of doubt still gnawed at her, but she pushed the thoughts from her mind, forced herself to concentrate on the moment. Whatever this room represented, whatever it meant, would have to wait. She would have to wait. And the Princess deserved a chance to explain herself.

"Now," said Applejack, all business again, "the guard's asleep, so we gotta move real quiet-like, an' those doors prob'ly need a key to open. Which he's prob'ly got on 'im. Ideas?"

Twilight gave her fears one final shove from her mind, and thought hard for a solution. "Searching him for the key would run the risk of waking him. We don't want that."

"We could break the doors down," suggested Applejack.

Twilight looked sidelong at her. "Don't be ridiculous. The noise would wake him."

"So we follow up by breakin' him down. Easy as line-dancin' with a rattlesnake."

"Be serious," said Twilight, smiling despite herself. She felt a deep-seated gratitude and affection for Applejack for making an effort to keep Twilight at ease, despite juggling her own distress. 

This is a nightmare for her, and here she is joking to keep me from losing my mind. 

There were some moments where Twilight loved her friends especially. 

"Hey, jus' trying to keep our options open," said Applejack. "Not like we need a key to open a locked door, right?"

"If you want to do it the right – wait a minute." A memory surfaced from the recesses of Twilight's mind, a memory of long nights studying alone, pouring over scrolls defining the inner workings of a— 

"No. We don't need a key."

"Uh, Twi, I was jokin'. Bustin' the doors down is a dumb idea," said Applejack quickly.

"Yes, it is," said Twilight. Pride at her own ingenuity swelled in her, pushing her horror further out of her mind. "Fortunately, we won't have to. Because I happen to know how to pick a lock."

"How to pick a – what?!" 

Twilight nodded, smiling. "One time, back in Canterlot, I had the misfortune of getting locked out of my dormitory, and I had to sleep out in the hall. The next morning, I marched straight to the library and learned everything I could about every type of lock in existence, promising myself that I'd never let that happen to me again." She turned her smile on Applejack. "Well? Think it'll work?"

Applejack's head was cocked, her left eye squinted, her right eye wide, and her jaw hanging open. She held that expression for several long moments, before she shook it off. "Sorry, sugarcube, but y'all broke m'brain for a minute there." Her face became stern and resolute again, and she tensed her muscles. "Alright. Let's get crackin'. Start with one door, an' move on from there. Quietly, now."

Twilight nodded and swallowed. "On three. One – "

The box suddenly lifted, exposing Applejack and Twilight. The ponies looked up to see the dungeon's warden towering over them, the box dangling from his right hand. From a distance, he'd been giant. Up close, he was nothing short of mountainous. He stared at the ponies like they were insects.

Applejack and Twilight glanced at each other, exchanging a blank look, then looked back at the soldier holding the box and glaring murderously at the two of them.

Reasoning that meaningful dialogue had to begin somewhere, Twilight cleared her throat and smiled sheepishly at the guard. "So..."

Nigel dropped the box and lunged. Before either of them could react, he'd wrapped a bear-sized hand around both of their necks, lifted them off the ground, and slammed them against the wall. 

"How in the hell did you two get past security?" he asked in a calm voice that defied his violent demeanor.

"What security?" Applejack managed to rasp through his iron grip. The soldier slammed her against the wall a second time, harder, and she gasped a silent cry of pain.

"You smart-mouthed bitch." He squeezed his thumbs against their throats, cutting off their airflow. Twilight choked and flailed, struggling to draw breath. Her lungs burned, and her vision swam, as oxygen deprivation started to take its toll. Her eyelids fluttered and her eyes rolled back into their sockets. 

Distantly, she heard a voice screaming. "Please, stop! Whatever you're doin' out there, jus' stop it! Don't hurt 'em!"

And, closer to her, a response. "You'll be next if you don't shut your mouth, you—"

Twilight's eyelids snapped open. 

The light that filled the room shone through her closed eyelids, and the thunderclap noise that accompanied the flash was deafening. Nigel flew across the room, propelled by the force of Twilight's attack, and Twilight and Applejack, caught in his grip, flew with him. They collided painfully against the cell door at the far end of the hall. Twilight heard the wood burst apart from the force of their impact, and felt Nigel's grip around her neck release. She rolled away from him, coughing heavily, struggling to breathe. She inhaled; her throat burned with every breath, but oxygen filled her lungs. She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes, but felt him seize her by her mane and pull. Twilight cried out in pain as he dragged her, blind and helpless. She scrabbled vainly for release, struggled to focus her magic for another attack. 

There came a loud, cracking, snapping sound, bone and cartilage breaking apart, and he released her again, screaming. 

Applejack?

"Fuck you!" Nigel shouted. Twilight heard a thudding, crunching noise, and a grunt of pain from her friend. "Fuck you!" Nigel bellowed.  Gunshots, three of them, echoed in the torture chamber. "FUCK YOU!" A fourth. "FUCK YOU!" A fifth, a sixth, a seventh. She heard nothing from Applejack. 

Twilight shut her eyes tightly, mustered what magical strength she had left, and stretched out with her senses. She felt the livid Nigel, distantly sensed a terrible pain like nothing she'd ever felt. She felt Applejack, alive, but hurting; she didn't know where or how. There was a third presence, too – Apple Bloom's – and, mysteriously, a fourth, which she couldn't quite discern. But she filtered the others out and focused on Nigel. The weapon she needed was in his hand. Twilight felt the metal frame of Nigel's pistol, and wrenched it away from him. She turned the barrel so that it faced its owner, who fell curiously silent midway through another curse. 

Twilight's magic stroked the gun's trigger. She wondered how Snake felt each time he fired a gun, each time he took a life. She remembered his inscrutable expression as he killed the crippled timberwolf, and wondered what emotion it was hiding. Such a slight amount of pressure to fire so terrible a weapon...

She pulled on the trigger. 

There was no explosive report, no sound of brain and bone splattering against the stone floor. Was it jammed, like the rifle she'd turned against the portcullis sentry? No. It was empty. 

Laughter. The guard was laughing, at Twilight, at his cheating death, it mattered not. Something was outrageously funny to him. It built to a crescendo, then was cut off abruptly by another heavy, bone-shattering blow.

An eternity passed before Twilight heard Applejack's voice. "Sugarcube. Are you alright?"

Twilight numbly opened her eyes. Her vision had returned, though colors and objects still bled together. The only thing she saw, with any clarity at all, was the soldier who lay on the ground amid the indistinct fragments of the broken jail cell. There was an indentation in the side of his head, visible even through his balaclava. His left leg was bent inward. 

"Twilight." Applejack's voice came again, more firmly this time. 

Twilight heard Applejack, felt her comforting hoof upon her shoulder, but couldn't see her, couldn't see anything but the dead Nigel. The room around them moved out of focus. 

"He shot at you," she said in a vacant, lifeless voice. "Are you hurt?"

"Fit as a fiddle," said Applejack. Though the room faded around her, the sound of Applejack's voice still rang through loud and clear.  "He missed every shot. Got me with a mean right hook though. Gonna bruise nicely." 

Twilight became aware of the gun, still floating in the grip of her purple aura, and dropped it like it was diseased.

A quiet voice, resounding with barely constrained hope, carried to Twilight's ears from across the room. "AJ...?" 

Twilight felt Applejack leave her, heard her hooves against the stone again. The room vanished completely, so that Twilight was alone with Nigel. She fixated upon the corpse, memorizing every detail. The left leg, bent at the knee, at so unnatural an angle that her gorge rose. The red fluid dribbling from his balaclava and down his neck. She wondered what his face looked like beneath that mask. She wondered if the expression that he wore into death was one of fear, or of pain.

He was laughing when he died. 

"It's me, li'l sister. I'm right here."

"How can you be alive? That monster... his sword..."

"I'll always come for you, Apple Bloom. Even if I gotta crawl back from the grave."

I almost killed someone. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her throat burned and ached with every inhalation. If he'd pulled that trigger one less time, I would have killed him.

"Applejack, I'm sorry! I'm so, so—"

"Hush now, quiet now. I gotcha, li'l sister. It's gonna be okay."

Twilight Sparkle stared at the corpse of the man who'd nearly killed her, who she'd nearly killed in turn, and desperately repeated those words to herself. It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay.

Something took shape over the body of the soldier, a bespectacled human, cloaked and hooded in black. Fiery red eyes gazed at the body behind his glasses, regarded it expressionlessly. Then, as if noticing her for the first time, his head lifted, and he fixed his gaze upon Twilight. A thin smile curled across his lips.

It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay.

Slowly, the ghostly human shook his head from side to side. No, he mouthed.

Twilight shut her eyes as tightly as she could, willing the phantasm away. It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay.

It's gonna be...