Crysis: The Guardian Prophecy

by TJAW

First published 8th of July, 2012

Sent through a portal on his own, Alcatraz finds himself fated as the protector of Equestria. He doesn't take it very seriously.

A month after fighting off the Ceph invasion of Manehattan, Alcatraz finds himself sent to recon a mostly unexplored area on the other side of a Ceph portal. He soon finds that not only is he fated to protect both Earth and Equestria, but that he might be as instrumental in its destruction as its salvation. Unfortunately for all involved, he's not too serious about his "Chosen One" role.

First Impressions

It didn’t look like a portal Alcatraz had seen in any sci-fi movie; it was more like a mural. The closest thing to it he could think of was in Super Mario 64.

“Amazing isn’t it?” Nathan Gould said to him. He just smiled, the scientist in him awed by the technology, despite it not being his field. “On the other side is a whole world, just teeming with life, things we probably couldn’t imagine; but at the same time filled with parallels to creatures on our world. You’ll probably be the first person to set foot on another planet!”

“Yeah, well the Ceph beat us to this one,” Colonel Barclay retorted.

About a month earlier, Alcatraz had eliminated the majority of the Ceph in Manhattan. Shortly after the fact, there was another, smaller invasion in Hawaii, and Colonel Barclay led his forces to eliminate the Ceph threat there, with the help of Alcatraz.

As the Ceph fled from the onslaught, they used the device in front of Alcatraz to teleport to another world. Fearful of the effects using this device would have on humans, the marines sent only unmanned vehicles through the portal. What they discovered on the other side was surprising; a world very much like theirs, seemingly perfectly habitable by humans. In fact, using the portal itself would be less hazardous than a dental X-ray. No discernible diseases or contagions or parasites that would inhibit human exploration.

Of course, the very fact that the Ceph had entered that world at least a month before then didn’t bode well for civilian exploration. As Alcatraz, Barclay and Gould stared at the portal, a marine expeditionary force was being assembled to pursue the aliens. The problem was that it would take two weeks to prepare the whole force.

Alcatraz had volunteered to be the first through, entering two weeks in advance of the rest of the marines. His unique skill set and the abilities granted by his symbiosis with his Nanosuit 2 made him the perfect choice to explore the other side.

It was going to be a one-way trip for Alcatraz; no turning back until the task force arrived and set up the equipment necessary to return to Earth. Gould tried to explain it to them as best he could, but seeing as he was a biotech specialist he didn’t do very well. Something about some kind of radiation being able to open the portal from the other side, and it’d take two weeks to get the equipment needed to create a two-way portal. Nonetheless, Alcatraz was undeterred.

He was equipped for the long haul. Four hundred rounds for his SCAR, forty shells for his Marshall shotgun, and two hundred forty rounds for his M12 Nova pistol. He carried four satchels of C4, five fragmentation grenades and every available attachment for his weapons.

“We’ll use drones to get some extra supplies in for you,” Barclay reassured him.

The last words Alcatraz heard before he entered the portal were “Good luck!” from Gould, Barclay, and everyone present in the portal chamber.

***

As soon as Alcatraz walked through the portal, he found himself standing alone in a dense forest; he’d expected some sort of fall, even if it were only a few yards. All manner of colorful flora populated the scene, and the stars shone above him. They looked different to him, although he could never remember constellations anyway.

The suit, cut off from satellites, attempted to deduce its location.

“Warning: GPS offline. Scanning for satellite networks… New network found; linking… Uplink successful.” The suit’s AI told him.

This struck Alcatraz as very odd. The only explanations he could think of were that either there was indigenous life at a similar technological level to Earth, or that Ceph satellites were inherently compatible with his suit’s systems. Both possibilities had intriguing ramifications.

Well, at least I’ll know where I’m going now.

Alcatraz switched to his Marshall shotgun, and attached a reflex sight and suppressor. In the dense forest, he could be attacked at any time, and the range of most engagements would likely be close.

“New objective: Exit the forest”

A waypoint appeared on his heads-up display, about a kilometer and a half away. Alcatraz moved with haste through the dense foliage, his Nanosuit 2 allowing him to ignore thorns and thickets. One of the effects of the N2 was that it prevented fatigue altogether; Alcatraz could run without tiring and had no need for sleep.

***

Fluttershy was just putting her animals to bed. She had fed them and bathed the dirty ones, making sure they could get a good night’s sleep. After making sure every one of them was content in their beds, she reclined on her couch.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders were at her cottage as well, although they were very docile compared to the last time they’d been over, more than a year ago. They were poring over some books, seeking knowledge, entertainment and most importantly, inspiration for their next attempts at earning their cutie marks. Fluttershy was sure that Twilight would appreciate their current method, although it was unlikely to last.

Just as Fluttershy had begun to nod off, Angel began to act up. It wasn’t like the usual tantrums her threw, in fact it seemed more like a warning or alert of some kind. He had given such warnings before very few times, usually to call her attention to something important. He gestured wildly, seemingly indicating the Everfree Forest.

“Is there something coming from the forest?”

Angel nodded. His small yet adorable black eyes were wide with fear of some kind. Whether it was fear of a known danger or the much more ominous fear of the unknown, Fluttershy was unable to tell. She certainly wasn’t aware of any sort of threat.

“Uh, Fluttershah? There’s somethin’ out there,” Apple Bloom said worriedly from upstairs. Fluttershy went up to see the Crusaders and look out the window with them. They were huddled together in fear, hiding just next to the window. Fluttershy peeked through the curtains and out the window.

Outside were some sort of bipedal creatures. Their bodies looked mechanical for the most part, but they had what looked like soft coral-orange flesh. They wore metal masks with glowing red eyes, and tentacle–like formations protruded from their soft-looking orange backs.

“What are they, Fluttershy?” Sweetie Belle asked quietly. She was petrified next to the windowsill, seemingly unwilling to move from her spot. The other Crusaders were in a similar state.

“I don’t know. I’ll go try to talk to them,” She whispered soothingly, putting on a façade of confidence. In truth, she was as terrified as they were, if not more so, and did what she did only to protect the dozens of lives under her care.

Bravery isn’t being without fear; it’s persevering in spite of it! Fluttershy told herself. She would often give herself small pep-talks in her head when she was scared or nervous, and they often did the trick. When they didn’t, her friends always pulled her through.

Fluttershy walked outside slowly, careful not to aggravate these new creatures. They could be aggressive or otherwise irritable, and she wanted to avoid any provocations. The last thing she needed was a panicked or violent creature on her hooves.

“H-hello?”

The creatures turned to face her. Their red eyes pierced the night with their glow, and Fluttershy did her best not to be intimidated by the beings’ eyes or height or any of their characteristics.

The faint outline of something appeared in the edge of the forest, and faded away.

***

Alcatraz had reached the edge of the forest, and saw a small house. Outside were four Ceph, and one seemingly frightened quadrupedal creature.

“Recommend tactical assessment” The N2’s AI advised.

Alcatraz activated his tactical visor and tagged the four Ceph stalkers that stood outside. Following that, he cloaked and snuck up behind one.

He spun the alien around to face him and stabbed it in the neck, decloaking temporarily as he did so. Pale peach-colored blood oozed from the wound. The next one he blasted in the back with his suppressed shotgun, tearing the squid’s innards into pulp and leaving a gaping wound.

At this point his cloak ran out, and Alcatraz fired another shell into a third stalker’s exposed chest. The ground was coated with their blood.

He grabbed the last one by the throat, and was about to finish it off.

***

Fluttershy watched as a faint shimmer seemed to kill two of the creatures, being briefly visible during the first act of violence and near-invisible for the next. When it became fully visible, it fired what looked like a gun into another’s back, and lifted the last one up by the throat.

“Stop!” Fluttershy yelled. She wouldn’t tolerate such behavior on her property, and she gave the violent visitor what was known in Ponyville as “The Stare”.

The figure stared at her and cocked its head quizzically, as if it were surprised to be interrupted. It looked back at the orange and black creature it held aloft, and punched it in what was presumably its face, crushing the black object that Fluttershy assumed was its face, before dropping its lifeless and bleeding body to the ground.

The figure turned to face her. It was almost twice as tall as Fluttershy. It had a single oddly shaped red eye, and a gray and silver body. It torso and arms looked like those of a minotaur, but its head and legs were plantigrade; they bent differently than the creatures she was familiar with, the only other plantigrade being she knew was Spike. It had what seemed to be silvery bones protruding at places. The figure put one of its hands to the side of its head and gazed at directly at her.

She stopped giving him The Stare and resumed, although her returning fear was tempered with an equal amount of courage. She needed to know what was going on.

***

Alcatraz scanned the creature that had just yelled at him, and his suit listed its basic attributes. The information displayed indicated it was a female mammal, genetically similar to a horse.

“Wha-What are you?” She asked in a tone he recognized as fear.

Well this is interesting; aliens that seem to speak English. Or I’m losing it. Sure hope it’s the first one.

Alcatraz decided not to answer, and he walked off towards what appeared to be a nearby settlement. He re-cloaked to avoid disturbing the locals; he wasn’t a very diplomatic person, but he knew that an alien would cause mass hysteria if it were to appear in the open.

***

Fluttershy had to find out what those things were, so she decided to ask Twilight Sparkle about them. She’d probably know what they were.

“Girls,” Fluttershy began, addressing the three fillies in her house. “I have to go, and I think you should all head home. I don’t know if there are more of those creatures out there, or if they’re safe.”

“Okaaaay…” The Cutie Mark Crusaders responded with all the excitement of a funeral attendee delivering a eulogy. They all headed in the directions of their respective houses, disappointed at another sleepover failing.

Fluttershy flew at a fast but sustainable pace, headed for Ponyville. She stopped flying when she reached the town, deciding that she didn’t want to be tired given her situation.

Almost everypony was inside their homes eating dinner or sleeping. This further encouraged Fluttershy to avoid creating a commotion, since she didn’t want to disrupt anypony’s affairs.

Fluttershy arrived at Twilight’s house, and saw her gazing through a telescope on her balcony. There was a large, old book resting on a small table next to her. Fluttershy flew upwards and addressed her.

“Um, Twilight, I have a problem.”

“Sorry Fluttershy, not now. My book ‘Predictions and Prophecies’ said something about creatures from the stars arriving on this particular night. It’s the same book that predicted Nightmare Moon’s return, so I consider it a pretty reliable source.” Twilight continued to gaze through the telescope, not turning to face her friend.

“Actually I um, I think my problem might have something to do with that.”

Twilight jerked her head up, accidentally striking her muzzle with the telescope as she did so. The notion that the so-called “creatures from the stars” had already arrived was exciting, but if Fluttershy’s problem had nothing to do with the alien beings then she could possibly miss the real arrival.

“Okay, fill me in,” Twilight responded, resuming her watch. She decided to play both angles, reasoning that she could pay full attention to both Fluttershy’s story and her telescope’s view.

Fluttershy told her about the four creatures that had appeared in her yard, and the other, which killed the first four before disappearing. She described the appearance and behaviors of the creatures as best she could.

“And that’s why I came to you. I was hoping you knew what they were.”

“Those are definitely the aliens my book talked about.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

***

Alcatraz entered the town the creature from earlier had entered. His suit tagged her, and marked the location she stopped at as a point of interest. He was still cloaked, and he hid whenever he needed to let his suit recharge, which only took a couple seconds from an empty charge; this excellent efficiency vastly aided the ability to cloak for two minutes at a time.

Alcatraz decided to observe the creature and her friend. Using the audio-enhancement feature of his tactical visor, he overheard them talk about some book of prophecies, and about how the book had predicted his arrival and the Ceph’s. The one he’d met earlier was apparently named “Fluttershy”, and the other one was called “Twilight Sparkle”. Their dialogue seemed to indicate that the building was both a library and Twilight’s home.

If they knew what I know about the Ceph, they’d be actively seeking my help on the matter, and I’d probably have to fight the Ceph en masse. I may be carrying extra ammo, but I’m not equipped to take on a damn army on my own with only sporadic logistical support from drones. On the other hand, it’d be better if these creatures knew what they were dealing with, but I’d still have to figure out how to present it to them. I’ll just keep watching for now.

Alcatraz continued to watch them, and marked the location for future reference.

***

“So um, do you know what we should do?”

“Well, the book said that there would be two groups and a single individual that would arrive at first, followed by a third associated with the individual. One group would reveal itself early on, and be the ‘Prophets of ruin, preparing the world for their own kind’s wants and needs’. Another group ‘Is a hated relative to the lone actor, and will attempt to be discreet for fear of his wrath’. The individual is said to be ‘The harbinger of his kind’s warriors, blessed and cursed with great power, and destined to try to save two worlds.’ It doesn’t say anything about whether he’ll succeed or fail…”

Spike emerged onto the balcony, yawning; he rubbed his eyes and surveyed the scene before him. Twilight had told him she’d be stargazing tonight, and why. Frankly, he didn’t really care, although he was smart enough not to say this.

“You’re still at this? I’m telling you, that book was a one-off with the Nightmare Moon thing. I mean really, aliens?” The baby dragon said skeptically. He looked down from the balcony, and noticed a strange shape. “What the heck is that?” He pointed at the dark, oddly shaped figure, and the two mares peeked over the balcony.

Had it not been for the obscenely bright moon that night, nopony would have seen the shape.

Fluttershy squinted and recognized the figure. “That’s him! That’s the monster that attacked those aliens!”

***

Well shit, looks like I’ve been made. At least there’s no armed guards, although I guess if there were I’d have been okay. Or spotted even faster. Maybe I should’ve stolen a cardboard box to hide in…

Alcatraz had only decloaked for a moment to let his suit recharge, but it had been the wrong moment. A purple lizard of some sort pointed him out to Twilight and Fluttershy while he was visible, and the two ponies leapt down to chase him.
Alcatraz was fast to start with in the Nanosuit 2, but when he activated the suit’s power mode, he surged ahead at high speed. He didn’t know what they planned to do with him, and he didn’t plan on finding out.

Great. So now I’m some kind of “Chosen One” destined to save their planet? I’m a little busy working on protecting my own.

Twilight said something along the lines of “I have an idea”. Alcatraz wasn’t sticking around to see what it was. Then she appeared in front of him in a flash of light. It would’ve blinded Alcatraz had his visor not been designed to protect against flashbangs. Since it was, he could clearly see what was happening.

“Warning! Gravitic anomaly detected!” The N2’s AI warned.

Alcatraz was suspended in mid-air, a purple bubble surrounding him. He was unable to do anything other than spin uselessly within it and flail his arms. There was a glow coming from Twilight’s horn, and it seemed to correspond with the slight ebbs in the bubble’s luminosity.

Alcatraz drew his M12 Nova and fired a warning shot. It missed Twilight as intended, and knocked up a small chunk of dirt. The sound of the gun firing startled her, and the bubble disappeared. Alcatraz resumed his sprint and holstered the pistol, passing a boutique as he did so.

Twilight teleported in front of him once again, before hitting him with a massive blast of some kind of energy and knocking him through a wall and into the aforementioned boutique.

Alcatraz slipped into unconsciousness.

***

“What in Celestia’s name is going on down he- Oh my goodness!”

Rarity came downstairs in robes and slippers to find a bipedal figure laying on a pile of rubble in her store. Thankfully, the formal suits she had been making for a group of celebrities were unscathed, as was the rest of her merchandise.

“Rarity! Are you okay?” Twilight asked as she rushed in through the hole she had created. She picked up the creature with her magic and began to move it outside, facing Rarity as she did so.

“I’m fine, darling.” She assured Twilight. “What in Celestia’s name is that?”

“We’re not entirely sure actually,” Twilight answered with some visible and audible embarrassment.

“‘We’? Who’s with you?”

“Um, just me. I saw this monster about half an hour ago, and it appeared outside Twilight’s house when I went to see if she knew anything about it,” Fluttershy responded.

“What are you going to do with it?” Rarity asked.

“Him,” Twilight corrected her.

“Peg pardon?” Rarity said, not quite grasping what Twilight was getting at.

“Long story, but one of my books says it’s a male,” Twilight explained. “And I know a place that can hold him…”

Twilight took the motionless body to Applejack’s farm, Sweet Apple Acres. She had Fluttershy get Applejack while Twilight took the body to the barn.

Applejack had been eating dinner with her family, and was very irked to have been disturbed during family time. Nonetheless, she accepted that her help was needed, and after apologizing profusely to her understanding family, she walked to the barn Fluttershy indicated.

“Ah hope y’all have sumthin’ import’nt ta show me, ‘cause- Whoa!”

Applejack entered the barn and stood with her mouth agape. She saw the body of the creature lying on a pile of hay.

“Do you still have those old oak stockades?” Twilight asked.

“Well, uh… Ah think so. They’re prob’ly in this here barn’s cellar. Maybe it’s a good idea to keep this feller in the cellar too.”
Twilight and Fluttershy nodded in agreement. They locked the monster in the cellar, and got him as secured as possible. They wanted to make sure this thing couldn’t harm anypony.

Author's Notes:

Judging by the lack of Crysis crossovers on this site, I'm going to assume that many of you reading this haven't played Crysis 1 or 2. I would recommend that you either play the game, watch an LP of Crysis 2, or simply visit the wiki. One reason is because of descriptions in the fic; I don't go into great detail about the weapons featured, and the SCAR in Crysis is not the one in real life (it looks like a slightly more angular version of the XM8 with Picatinny accessory rails). So if you're not familiar with the universe, just head on over to http://crysis.wikia.com and use it to help with mental imagery. Enjoy!

Work Hard, Play Harder

The next afternoon, inside the cellar of one of Apple family’s barns, Twilight Sparkle, Fluttershy, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie and Rarity were discussing the arrival. The cellar was lit by a new set of halogen bulbs, and it was fairly tidy.

“He looks kinda cool actually,” Rainbow Dash said, looking at the unconscious monster in the cellar’s lights. “But if he attacked you, he’s seriously bad news.”

“Ahm tellin’ y’all, we need ta take those weapons somewhere else! Keepin’ ‘em in here is just askin’ fer trouble if this guy escapes.”

“Please, not even Pinkie can break out of that stockade,” Twilight said dismissively.

“Actually-” Pinkie Pie objected.

“Ah know that! But mah uncle Husdon always said that ya need ta keep prisoners separated from any weapons in addition ta keepin’ ‘em controlled. It don’t matter if they’re yer friends, a desperate prisoner’ll do anythin’ to escape,” AJ said, ignoring Pinkie.

“What did your uncle Hudson do again?” Rarity asked.

“He was CIA. Oh that reminds me, did I ever tell you ‘bout the time he and his buddy Mason-”

“Applejack, is now the best time?” Twilight asked.

“Okay.” AJ relented.

“Seriously though, we need to tell Princess Celestia about this guy,” Rainbow said.

“Already did that. I had Spike send a letter to her last night. She’ll be here in less than five minutes!” Twilight chirped.

“Huh, Wha-” Applejack gibbered in surprise before regaining her composure. “She’s comin’ that soon? I’da appreciated a little more warnin’ than that!” She was visibly irked at this surprise.

A knock came on the cellar door.

“That must be her!” Twilight said.

She opened the door, and the princess hunched over to enter. Inside the cellar however, there was plenty of room for her to stand up straight.

“Thank you for informing me of this Twilight,” Princess Celestia said. She turned to gaze at the monster. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. All we know about ‘him’ is provided by that book?”

“Most of it, yes. I think it’s a reliable source, considering it was right this time like it was with Nightmare Moon,” Twilight responded

“I see.” The princess remained skeptical of the book; she believed that it was a one-off, just as Spike did. Prophecies were usually only vaguely accurate, and specific information in them tended towards speculation rather than fact.

***

“Wake up, marine!” The voice of Prophet roared into Alcatraz’ ears. Part of the consciousness of the previous wearer of the suit remained within the suit, and would occasionally speak to him, although Alcatraz never knew when it would occur. In this case it was prompted by his incapacitation.

Alcatraz jerked his head up, suddenly awake. He saw seven colorful creatures gazing at him, probably wondering what he was. He recognized Twilight and Fluttershy, but none of the others were familiar to him.

He grunted as he realized he was in a wooden stockade chained to the ceiling. He wasn’t happy to be captured, but since he could easily break out, he opted to humor his captors in order to study them.

“What the hell are you?” Alcatraz asked. His voice had returned recently, but it was slightly electronically distorted by the N2’s helmet.

“You have ponies where you come from, right?” Twilight asked.

“Not technicolor talking ones. And not unicorns or pegasi either. That’s what you are, right?”

“Right, you catch on quick.”

“And the big lady here, what’s she?”

“An alicorn. My name is Princess Celestia, leader of this country, Equestria, which is where you are presently located,” The being began sternly and formally.

“If you’re a princess, wouldn’t this be a principality rather than a country?” Alcatraz asked, toying with his captors.

“Who or what are you?” Celestia asked, ignoring his question.

“My name is Theodore Alcatraz.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m not here to hurt your people, if that’s what you’re wondering. But I’m not here to give interviews either.”

“Then what are you here to do?” Celestia demanded.

“I’m not here to answer questions.”

“I’m afraid you are now. You will explain your disruptive presence here immediately!” Celestia seemed fairly used to getting her way, and this didn’t lend itself to interrogation.

“I regret to inform you that isn’t going to happen.”

“You’re in no state to make statements like that; you’re on my terms now.” Princess Celestia was visibly irritated now. The ponies in the room looked startled to see her temper flare. Twilight seemed especially surprised.

“I am? I had no idea,” Alcatraz quipped, scratching his head; a testament to the low width of the stockade he was in.
Princess Celestia moved to exit the cellar, and the other ponies followed her.

“Wait! Do you have a magazine I can read or something?” Alcatraz asked jokingly.

The ponies exited the cellar, and locked the door behind them. The lights in the room were still on.

***

“For now I’m placing a magical ward on this door to prevent his escape. I’ll come to take him someplace more secure soon. Until then, his existence must be kept a secret.” Princess Celestia explained.

“Yes ma’am!” The ponies all said together.

Princess Celestia flew off towards her castle, her guards following her.

“Is all this security really necessary?” Fluttershy asked.

“How can you ask that? You saw what he did when we were chasing him!” Twilight retorted, trying to say it gently to avoid hurting Fluttershy’s feelings.

“I’m sorry, but he only did that because he felt threatened.”

“He shot at Twi!” AJ exclaimed.

“Like I said, he felt threatened.”

Twilight relented; it was obvious Fluttershy wanted to see the good in that creature. There wouldn’t be any stopping her there without more evidence that the thing was malicious.

“Wait, what does that mean, ‘Shot at me’?” Twilight asked Applejack.

“Do ya live under a Tom ‘r sumthin’?”

“I thought we agreed not to speak of that again,” Rarity interjected.

“Nopony ever actually said they agreed to that, Rarity. Anyway, that thing in there shot at you with a 9mm pistol! Do ya not know anythin’ about guns?”

“Not very much,” Twilight responded with mild shame. “My parents never let me watch action movies, and were very anti-gun. Plus there were the strict gun laws in Canterlot and the fact that I rarely watched TV or movies at all, and don’t play video games either, and still don’t… It hasn’t come up in the books I’ve read either in anything more than brief mentions.”

“Oh, well uh, lemme explain fahrarms ta ya. I’m kinda an expert on the subject,” AJ said with a grin.

AJ took Twilight off to a shady spot to shelter her from the summer heat, and began to explain the form and function of firearms in exquisite detail. AJ wasn’t exactly fond of the fact that her vast knowledge of firearms expedited the “redneck” stereotype she feared being branded with, but she was still fond of the subject nonetheless.

Meanwhile, everypony else headed to their respective homes. They had no need or wish to remain on Applejack’s farm. Indeed, they all had busy schedules ahead of them.

***
Several hours later, after night fell, Alcatraz began to act. With relatively little effort, he broke the wooden stockade binding him and brushed off the debris. He gathered and loaded his weapons before walking to the exit.

After I get outta here, I should probably try to find Twilight. If I’m anywhere near as good a judge of relationships as I think I am, she’s got ties to the princess, and I should probably apologize to her for my behavior. Considering I’ve already linked to a native GPS network, I can go from general reconnaissance of the region to an active search for Ceph. But I’ll need more resources to do that, and judging from the available information, Celestia could get me that manpower. Or horsepower.

Alcatraz moved to the door exiting to the surface, and destroyed it with a single blow. As he moved to exit the basement, he walked into an invisible barrier. After losing his balance for a split second, Alcatraz placed his hand on where he had encountered the wall; it stopped on an invisible surface.

He pushed against the barrier with significant force, and his hand began to slowly but surely move through it. He withdrew his hand, and activating his suit’s power mode, he delivered a flurry of powerful blows to the force field. After the sixth blow, it ceased to exist, and a golden mist appeared where it had been.

Alcatraz tried exiting again, and though he braced himself for another barrier, he encountered none. He emerged to find a picturesque orchard, stars twinkling overhead. A house was located a few hundred yards from him, and light shone from the windows. He assumed that was the residence of the farm’s owners.

He drew his pistol and attached a suppressor to it, deciding that if he needed to use a weapon he might as well have it suppressed; his Marshall shotgun was still mounted with a suppressor and reflex sight, so he wouldn’t have to worry about that gun either. His SCAR on the other hand couldn’t mount one, so he left it slung on his back.

“Locate Twilight Sparkle: Head to the library”

Alcatraz headed to the waypoint on his heads-up display, more careful about his cloaking and de-cloaking than last time. He didn’t want to be discovered the same way as before.

After an hour or so of careful sneaking, he arrived at her house. The balcony was as he remembered it, and the door to it was open as well. Still cloaked, Alcatraz power jumped and caught a grip on the edge, and quickly pulled himself up onto the balcony proper.

His suit’s charge was sufficiently high that he could remain cloaked for another two minutes if he remained mostly still, or if he moved slowly he could stay cloaked for about forty seconds. He remained cloaked, activated his tactical visor and tagged both occupants of the house; the scan indicated they were both in a fairly deep sleep.

Alcatraz silently entered a side room of the library and waited for morning.

***

“Mmm…”

Twilight Sparkle awoke to the coupled scents of hay pancakes and maple syrup wafting themselves into her nostrils. She loved waking up like that; calmly and to a pleasant feeling.

Spike must be making them for me, or himself, or both of us. I think they can wait a couple more minutes, it’s only- Twilight opened her eyes a little and glanced at the analog clock next to her bed. 6:48 in the morning. Twelve minutes ahead of schedule. I’ll get up in two and still be ten ahead…

“Twilight!” Spike shouted. “Your pancakes are ready!”

She opened her eyes and glanced at the clock; only forty-two and a half seconds had passed.

“Coming!” Twilight shouted back. She got out of bed and spent her usual twenty-one seconds brushing her mane before coming downstairs. After that she trotted to the table and began to eat, adding somewhat copious amounts of syrup onto her flapjacks.

A door opened and a familiar figure stepped out.

“Twilight! I was beginning to wonder whether you’d wake up at all!” Alcatraz said jovially.

“Monster!” Spike yelled, springing into attack mode and clawing madly at Alcatraz’ shins and thighs.

“I’d cut that shit out if I were you,” Alcatraz recommended to the rapidly tiring dragon.

“Spike, I think you should stop. Like right now, before things get out of hoof,” Twilight advised. She had stopped eating her pancakes after she dropped her fork in surprise at Alcatraz’ sudden appearance, and was staring at him blankly.

Spike followed Twilight’s advice.

“Oh man,” He panted, “I need to work out more. Did that even hurt you at all?”

“Nope,” Alcatraz responded.

“Not even a little?”

“Not even a little.”

“Oh,” Spike said disappointedly.

“How did you escape that cellar? Princess Celestia put a magical ward on the exit!”

“I punched it around six times and the ‘magical barrier’ turned into golden dust.” Alcatraz made sure to use the term “Magical barrier” in a mocking tone of voice to show his disdain for such superstition. “Now I’m here to apologize for my previous behavior and request help in my mission.”

“And you expect me to forgive you for shooting at me just like that?” Twilight had learned a lot about firearms in a short time from Applejack, and was going to go shooting with her soon. Now that she was familiar with much of the terminology, she felt she could hold her own in a conversation regarding them.

“Twilight, if I had wanted to kill you, I would’ve killed you and Fluttershy the night before last; I could’ve killed you and your lizard friend in your sleep last night as well.”

“Hey! I’m a baby dragon, not a lizard!” Spike objected.

“Okay, I’ll pretend to buy that; but why the change of heart?” Twilight asked.

“I realized that since I’ve already tapped into this planet’s GPS satellite network, which may or may not belong to your species-”

“It’s ours,” Twilight affirmed.

“Okay. I can’t search for my targets’ whereabouts on my own with no leads. I need more manpower to do that; or in this case horsepower.”

“Alright, tell me what your mission is, and answer my questions and I’ll do what I can.”

“My mission is to scout the region in advance of a United States Marine Corps Expeditionary Force, which will arrive in twelve days. Since there’s already a GPS network here, my workload is reduced to locating any Ceph forces on this planet.”

“What are ‘Ceph’?”

Alcatraz took a seat. He explained in length the Ceph invasion of Manhattan, from the first outbreak of their virus in Manhattan to the near-annihilation Alcatraz inflicted upon them by his suit’s reverse engineering of the virus. He didn’t spare her the details of betrayal, suffering, atrocities and violence that dominated the campaign. He also explained how he got to the current planet. The whole story took two hours fourteen minutes and thirteen seconds according to the stopwatch function in Alcatraz’ suit.

Twilight sat through it all, captivated and horrified by the content of his tale. She seemed to especially dislike the details about the alien spore that caused so much suffering; the cellular degeneration, fungal growths and ultimate liquification of humans. The numerous times he nearly died, including the times his heart stopped beating, and the way his suit kept him alive despite his horrific injuries disturbed her as well. The notion that his suit was symbiotically connected to his body was just as fascinating as it was disturbing.

Twilight began to transcribe Alcatraz’ story for Princess Celestia herself, now confident that she needed to know what was going on. It took her half a dozen scrolls and three hours to do so, but she got it done and had Spike send it to her immediately after she finished the report.

Alcatraz decided not to question the methods of communication she used, deciding that he may as well let ponies continue doing what worked best for them without asking them to explain every odd thing to him. It would be easier for both parties that way.

After Twilight finished and sent the letters on their way to the princess, she finished her now cold pancakes and reviewed her schedule.

“Great, just great!” Twilight chirped sarcastically. “I’ve missed all of my morning studies. But I can still make it to AJ’s farm in time for my first shooting session. Alcatraz, I want you to stay here; don’t leave this building, and if somepony comes to the door you hide, okay?”

Alcatraz stood silent and motionless.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

***

After Twilight left her home, Alcatraz followed her through the streets of Ponyville, cloaked all the while. He managed to get to Sweet Apple Acres just five minutes behind her, and was able to avoid being spotted, or at least not that he knew.

It was a relatively cool, overcast day with no winds; perfect for shooting. Twilight was trying to calm Applejack about the escaped prisoner when Alcatraz arrived.

“Applejack! For the umpteenth time, calm down!”

“How can ah? That thing’s prob’ly out there causin’ all kinds a ruckus! And it’ll prob’ly hurt somepony real soon if we don’t fahnd it an’ stop it!”

Alcatraz decided to mess with Applejack, and walked behind her, de-cloaking and activating his suit’s armor mode just to be safe. His suit’s muscles tightened, increasing in density and multiplying the suit’s already impressive protective properties by a huge amount. This combined with the Ionic Electroactive Polymer Liquid Armor that was active by default made him almost completely impervious to physiological harm as long as his suit had the power to maintain it.

Alcatraz’ suit had also recently created a way to eliminate the blue glow of armor mode and reduce the energy consumed by the function even further than he could with Nano-Modules he’d acquired using nanocatalyst collected from Ceph bodies. This meant he could move more discreetly while in armor mode, but he could still put armor mode into full power during more intense situations, thus emitting the blue glow.

Twilight stopped talking and gaped at Alcatraz, looking past AJ.

“Hey, ahm still talkin’ ta you!” Applejack snapped. She did a double take to see what Twilight was looking at, and froze in fear for a moment before kicking Alcatraz as hard as she could in the stomach with her rear legs.

When she turned around, she expected to find him sprawled on the ground and unconscious. What she found was him still standing there, not even remotely disturbed.

“Wha? How? But I-” AJ babbled.

Alcatraz deactivated armor mode, and spoke to her.

“I heard you were going shooting with Twilight, so I decided to come with her.”

“I told you to stay in my house!” Twilight fumed.

“Yeah, well you didn’t have any good books. That and I wanted to see how well ponies can shoot.”

Applejack, who now grasped that he had no hostile intentions at the moment, took that as a challenge. She led the two to a field a few minutes away, where there were a variety of targets, shaped like ponies and mythical creatures alike, at various ranges. Nearby was a gun case, which she opened to reveal several pistols and rifles. Twilight chose a rifle and AJ instructed her on how to use it properly, before taking a rifle of her own.

Applejack fired three shots in semi-automatic from her Magpony Masada at a pony-shaped target fifty yards away, and all three of the shots hit.

“Beat that!” She challenged him, accompanying her boast with a confident smile.

Alcatraz pulled his SCAR from his back. It had a reflex sight and an underslung gauss attachment on it. He fired a burst of ten rounds into a target of equal size and distance, and all of the bullets hit.

“Done,” Alcatraz responded.

AJ was impressed by his marksmanship, something that didn’t come easily. She’d been shooting all her life, and had a lot of practice under her saddle. She wouldn’t be upstaged by this human, so she fired a shorter burst of automatic fire at a target much further away than the ones previously hit.

The burst connected with the target, creating a tight six-round group. Alcatraz bested her again, but as she put forward new challenges they quickly became tied. Hours later, they finally conceded that they were equals as far as shooting static targets went. Twilight had stopped shooting her targets and begun to watch the two compete after the first tie occurred. The competitive nature the two shared was interesting to watch.

Maybe Rainbow Dash is going to have a three-way rivalry now. Twilight thought with a grin. It’d be interesting to see who’d win in a race on hoof, or in a test of agility or strength.

Alcatraz was shaking AJ’s hoof when he heard a vehicle approaching. He stopped and cloaked, aiming to observe the newcomers. He supplemented his near-invisibility by crouching behind a barrel, and he activated his tactical visor.

The audio enhance function of the tactical mode analyzed the sound, and identified the vehicle it belonged to; in this case it was a grey and white APC emerging from the forest.

CELL.

The armored personnel carrier drove to within twenty yards of AJ and Twilight when it stopped and unloaded the nine white-armored soldiers. Their weapons were a fairly vanilla mixture; a few SCARs, a few SCARABs, some Felines and a Mk. 60 medium machine gun. They had several different sidearms too.

“Fan out! I wanna know where the fuck that gunfire was coming from!” One of the soldiers yelled.

Alcatraz drew his pistol, attached a suppressor, and leapt onto the top of the APC. He began delivering headshots to each and every one of the contractors, and was only decloaked for the last two kills, although he still got them fast enough that he wasn’t even spotted.

“Looks like this investigation… Turned into a bust.” Alcatraz pictured himself putting on sunglasses as he delivered the second half of the line.

Applejack and Twilight stared at him with a mixture of awe, anger, fear and confusion.

“What the buck did ya do that for? Ya just killed ten somethin’s on mah farm!” AJ yelled.

“Yeahhh… CELL and I don’t get along too well. If it makes you feel better, you can have their guns and stuff, although I might need to borrow some of it later. I’ll check this APC for tracking devices, load the bodies into it, dump them in the forest, and park this thing in one of your barns, with the weapons inside. Deal?” Alcatraz proposed.

AJ grunted and gave a brief nod, and Twilight simply continued staring. Alcatraz did as he said he would, and returned to the farm an hour later in the same vehicle. There was a barn with an open pair of doors, and Applejack standing outside of it looking cross. He parked the APC, opened the rear hatch, and crawled out.

“What, no ‘Welcome Back’ cake?” He asked jokingly as he exited.

“Nope, just a ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ cake!” Pinkie Pie yelled, appearing from nowhere in a burst of confetti. After it cleared, Alcatraz saw a plethora of party was waiting for him.

“Whoa! What the monkey fuck!? Where’d this shit come from!?”

“My party cannon, silly!”

If Alcatraz’ helmet were removed, the ponies would’ve seen an excellent poker face. Since he didn’t, they probably assumed he had one on anyway. He’d seen enough already between the Internet and the last month or so that he considered himself unable to be surprised.

A cannon that deploys vital party materiel? Seems legit. Especially given the stuff I’ve seen here already.

“Oh-kayyyyy…” He began, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “So, who’s here, and what’ve you got?”
Alcatraz had figured out how to remove his helmet shortly after the battle for Manhattan, so he could eat whatever they had for him, although he’d scan it first to make sure it was safe. While the Nanosuit 2’s level of symbiotic fusion with his body eliminated his need to eat, drink and sleep altogether, he still ate anyway for the sake of eating.

Additionally, he was under the assumption he could get ridiculously drunk and never have a hangover; considering he’d had a nasty one when his late Force Recon team had first been deployed to Manhattan from drinking too much tequila the preceding night, and that it was gone when he woke up just a few hours later with the N2 on, that was a fairly reasonable explanation.

“We’ve got punch, triple-layer chocolate cake, apple pie, Apple-Pie, if you know what I mean, and some games.” Pinkie answered, with a wink at what seemed to be an ordinary wall and a glance at an oblivious Applejack.

“What kind of games?”

“Pin the tail on the pony and bobbing for apples. Oh, and we’re gonna start with a pie fight!” Pinkie produced a pie tin filled with whipped cream from nothingness and threw it at Applejack. “Booyah! Apple-Pie!”

As Pinkie intended, a pie fight ensued, quickly entangling all of the barn’s occupants. After ten minutes of intense pie-flinging, an uneasy truce prevailed. The players cleaned themselves off and began helping themselves to the food and drink provided.

Alcatraz removed his helmet, revealing a handsome face with a mess of dark hair and a beard. Helping himself to the cake, he took a large slice and sat down. After several helpings, he had gotten bored. Not satisfied with the choice of games currently available, he asked the question he had been putting off since the party started.

“So uh, you got anything to drink besides punch? Something more adult?” He queried, running his hands through his hair.

“Well, ah got some hard cider ah’ve been savin’, and ah wouldn’t mind breakin’ into it. Anypony else up for some?”

The other mares all raised their hooves, happy to take the party to the next level. They all sat down around a table, and began to drink themselves under.

Rainbow Dash was the first to go. She started acting goofy after the first two mugs, and began hitting on every living thing in the room, starting with Alcatraz, who was struggling to hold in laughter at how fast she had gotten drunk. Most of them just laughed her off, although Twilight and Fluttershy were concerned for her well-being and urged her to lie down. Rainbow didn’t, and flew into a wall another two mugs later. Twilight picked Rainbow up with her magic and rested her drooling body on a bale of hay.

Rarity went next, beginning with a slurred rant about some client she’d recently had before she collapsed on the table. Fluttershy began to sing off-key before she stumbled into a wall and fell onto a pile of hay. Twilight taunted her three rivals, asking how many hooves she was holding up.

“One hoof, sill-y!” Pinkie said with a hiccup.

“One halfffff.” Applejack slurred.

“Eleven!” Alcatraz shouted, toying with her.

“Hah! You’re all wrong! I’m holding, uh… One, two, three, four…” Twilight began before she fell backwards. The remaining trio laughed their guts out.

About fifteen minutes later, AJ passed out wordlessly. She fell backwards and began to snore softly, fondling the ground as she did so.

“Juss you ‘n me Alky!” Pinkie said. They drank for another twenty minutes, Pinkie rambling on all the while.

“Y’see, therezz this one special wallll-uh, that we’re always bein’ watched throo. I call it the uh…” She began to count her hooves, getting up to forty-one different hooves before she vomited a rainbow liquid and passed out.

“Woohoo! I win!” Alcatraz shouted to the now-quiet barn. He was extremely drunk at this point, and after making a bed out of loose hay he fell asleep.

***

“Here they are, Princess!” A purple dragon shouted, waking Alcatraz. He was still drunk, oddly enough, and he didn’t have a hangover at all.

When he saw the source of the noise, he stared at it in wide-eyed confusion.

What the fuck? I thought the “purple dragon” was just a colloquialism for heroin usage! Wait, I didn’t do anything last night except get shitfaced right? Right. Booze is all I had. I think. Yeah…

Alcatraz closed his eyes again.

“AWAKEN KNAVE! WHAT HAST THOU DONE TO MY SISTER’S STUDENTS!?”

New Kid on the Block

“Agh, Jeezuss!” Alcatraz grunted, awoken by the thunderous voice of the new arrival.

“I ASK AGAIN; WHAT HAST THOU DONE TO MY SISTER’S STUDENTS!?”

The ponies in the room started to stir and groan, suffering from hangovers. Drinking until they dropped hadn’t turned out very well for them.

“Ugh, not so loud Princess,” Twilight Sparkle whispered.

“Whoa. Calm yer tits lady. I ttake it yooov never had a hangover? Ya know, that really bad headache ya get the morn’n after ya drink too much? Thass what they got.”

“We understand now,” Luna said in a much quieter voice. “But why dost thou speak in such slurs if thine festivities were of the previous evening?”

“Well, my suit kinda keepz me fr’m gettin’ hangovers somehow, but I guess it duzzit by keepin’ me drunk for longer.”

Alcatraz stood up and walked over to his helmet. After he put it on, he noticed the visor was displaying his blood alcohol level, which was obscenely high. Then it began to drop rapidly as the suit administered agents to sober him up. Within seconds he was straightened out.

“That’s better. Now, what is it you need ma’am?”

“My sister read of thine escape last evening, and we tracked thou to here. We cometh bearing a message.”

Spike cleared his throat and produced a roll of parchment.

“Princess Celestia of Equestria formally requests the presence of Theodore Alcatraz at the Canterlot Castle in two days’ time to discuss matters of national security. Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy and Rarity are to come as well, as they need to be prepared should the Elements of Harmony be needed. Until then, Mr. Alcatraz is to demonstrate peaceful and orderly conduct within in the boundaries of Equestria, and show goodwill towards the citizens of Ponyville. Upon the end of the second day, transportation shall arrive in front of the Ponyville library to take you seven to Canterlot. Signed, Princess Celestia.”

Luna, satisfied at the delivery of her sister’s message, flew off. As for the other ponies, they were bewildered by this sudden invitation.

Alcatraz stood and watched as Rarity panicked for ten minutes about what they would wear, complaining that her dresses from the last Grand Galloping Gala were outdated.

“Maybe they could be refitted?” Alcatraz suggested, no longer entertained by her whining.

“Are you suggesting that we’ve gotten fatter!?” She snarled.

“No, it’s just-”

“Psshhh. Loose and baggy clothes are so last season.”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have applied naval terminology to fashion. I meant that maybe they could be modified to be more up-to-date.”

Rarity gasped “Brilliant, why didn’t I think of it before? Oh, but I’ll need to make you something too! Come by the Carousel Boutique tomorrow at noon.” She galloped off.

“Is she always like that?” Alcatraz asked. The ponies all nodded. “Wait, why don’t you have hangovers?”

“Magic,” Pinkie said with a giggle.
“Okay, there are two things wrong with that. One, there’s no such thing as magic. Two, when you explain an occurrence as magic, you must follow with two snorts.”

“Magic,” Pinkie repeated, following with two snorts.

“Atta girl!” Alcatraz said encouragingly.

“What do you mean ‘there’s no such thing as magic’!?” Twilight demanded, smoke coming from her nostrils.

“Allow me to recite Clarke’s Third Law. ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’ Therefore, I hypothesize that your so-called ‘magic’ is a result of some form of technological augmentations you may or may not be aware of in some way, shape or form. Perhaps some form of symbiotic bacterium, or self-replicating nanomachines deeply integrated into your physiology and passed down through generations.”

Twilight struggled with a retort, but her agile mind was unable to create one to counter Alcatraz’ hypotheses. “Ugh, we’ll talk about this later. In the meantime, I think we should introduce you to Ponyville so you don’t have to skulk around for three days.”

“Probably for the best. I can’t keep crawling around cloaked for three days, that’d be too time-consuming. Hopefully I’ll make better first impressions on the town than I did with you.”

“Yeah,” She said with a less-than-enthusiastic expression. “Hopefully.”

They set off from Applejack’s barn, and an hour later they arrived at the town hall, which reminded Alcatraz of a birdhouse for some odd reason. Twilight walked in, Alcatraz following her while cloaked. They walked up the spiral staircase to the second floor, where a secretary sat behind a desk, which in turn was beside the door to the mayor’s office.

“Do you have an appointment?” The secretary asked without looking up from her book.

“No, but I need-” Twilight began.

“You know the rules, Sparkle. All appointments must be made twenty-four hours in advance.”

Okay, this is going nowhere fast. Plan B.

Alcatraz began to lift the desk and spin it around.

“Sparkle, do you think I’m stupid? I know you’re the one doing that!”

“Actually, I’m not. My horn isn’t glowing, and neither is your desk.”

Alcatraz began to moan.

“Ghost!” The secretary screamed, promptly running downstairs.

Alcatraz placed the desk back where it was, returned any displaced objects to their original positions, and decloaked, laughing as he did so.

“That was too easy. I mean, seriously? Ghosts?”

Twilight gave him a fierce stare.

“Okay, jeez.” He recloaked and followed Twilight into the office.

The mayor sat behind her desk, sifting through letters. Paintings and awards lined the walls, and a globe sat on her desk.

“Yes, Twilight?” She sighed.

“Mayor Mare, as I’m sure you know, there was a scuffle the night before last. However, I may have caused it and-”

“You’re friends with Rarity, just work something out with the damages you caused. I need to hold a meeting to assure everypony that these alien rumors are just bunk.”

“Actually, that’s what I came to talk to you about. There is an alien, but as long as we stay calm, nothing bad should happen.”

Mayor Mare double-facehoofed. “Don’t tell me you believe this nonsense!”

Alcatraz decloaked in front of the mayor. “I certainly do,” He said.

The mayor screamed until Twilight covered her mouth. Even then, she continued to scream until her lungs were emptied. She inhaled through her nose and stopped, and Twilight removed her hoof.

“Call the meeting.”

A few hours later, all of Ponyville gathered in front of the town hall and awaited the Mayor. She appeared and walked to the podium, shuffling her papers. The crowd silenced itself.

“Ahem. Fillies and gentlecolts! It has come to my attention that many of you are concerned about aliens that some of you have supposedly seen. Originally I was going to dismiss these claims as mere paranoia. However, Twilight Sparkle recently brought irrefutable evidence to me supporting these claims.”

The crowd began fill with concerned whispers.

“But fear not, the evidence brought before me indicates that he bears us no ill will.”

Alcatraz decloaked in front of the crowd, his armor flashing blue as it ceased bending light around his figure. He walked towards the podium, extremely aware of the hundreds of pairs of eyes trained on him. He took a position behind the podium and spoke.

“Hi,” He began.

“It talks, it must be sentient!”

“Bon-Bon, I think it’s a human!”

“Ees nawt.”

“Um, my name is Lieutenant Theodore Alcatraz. I came here a few days ago to explore this planet in advance of more of my kind, who I assure you will have an entirely peaceful disposition towards ponies. Said group will come in twelve days and number a few thousand.”

“If you’re here peacefully, then why have there been aliens sighted outside Ponyville attacking ponies? I’ve seen them myself!” A brown stallion asked. The crowd began to mutter angrily, and some of the ponies were trying to recall where their pitchforks were.

“Could you give me a description of these aliens?”

“Uh, bipedal, angular black plates, orange tentacles.”

“That, my little ponies, is why I came here. The alien you describe is called a Ceph. On my world, they unleashed a horrible plague inside Manhattan, causing millions of slow, painful, disgusting deaths and necessitating quarantine while it lasted.”

The ponies all showed revulsion at the thought of a thriving urban metropolis being hit by a virulent plague. A few of them started crying, Fluttershy included. Still, most of them seemed skeptical of something like that actually happening, a reflexive denial indicative of their cheerful and naive dispositions.

“After days of brutal fighting, my suit was able to corrupt their virus to use it against them, and their own spore dispersal tower released the re-engineered virus. They fled through a portal to this planet, and the United States Marine Corps is coming to finish them off in twelve days. Please report any and all Ceph activity to me or Twilight Sparkle. Any questions?”

A mint green unicorn mare raised her hoof.

“Yes?” Alcatraz picked her.

“Are you a human?”

“Yes.”

“Ha, told ya.”

A candy-maned earth pony mare raised her hoof.

“If you’re a human, why can’t we see your face? And how come you’re wearing that weird outfit?”

“Firstly, I can assure you I’m a human.” Alcatraz removed his helmet to show her. “Secondly, this Nanosuit is literally fused with my body. It was given to me to save my life by a dying man, and its artificial muscle grew into my wounds. At this point I can’t remove it at all. And there are a fairly small number of Nanosuits like this one. Now if you have any more questions, deliver them to me later. Thank you for your time.”

The crowd dispersed calmly, Alcatraz headed for Sweet Apple Acres and Twilight ran to catch up with him.

“That went well,” She commented.

“Yeah. Say, do you know any bars around here?”

“There’s Berry Punch’s Booze-a-Palooza a few blocks south of the library. Wait, don’t tell me you’re going to get hammered every night!?” She asked disgustedly.

“No, maybe tomorrow night. No drinking tonight, I promise!”

“Why are we going to AJ’s farm anyway?”

“That APC, I’m gonna paint a NATO woodland vehicle camo over that CELL pattern if AJ has any paint.”

“Oh, okay. See ya!”

“Later.”

Alcatraz headed to AJs. It only took a little while since he could just walk the whole way instead of sneaking. When he got there, he inquired AJ about the tools and paint he’d need only to find out she didn’t have them, except for a few. So he exchanged a few guns and some ammo for a steady allowance he could use.

Why the fuck does she have car jacks? Maybe somepony in her family has a lame sense of humor or something.

Alcatraz jogged back to Ponyville with his newfound cash and located the hardware store. There he purchased all the spraypaint he’d need and a bit extra, as well as several duffel bags and a few sets of large alphabet stencils. He paid the cashier and headed back to the farm.

Alcatraz began working on his new project, the stars beginning to appear above him.

***

“So, that Alcatraz guy doesn’t seem that bad,” Spike said, trying to strike up a conversation. “For somepony who’s supposed to ‘save us all’ he seemed fairly down-to-Equis during that meeting.”

“Yeah, I guess- Wait a minute!” Twilight looked in the bathroom, only to find it as filthy as it had been when she left for the meeting. “Spike! You were supposed to clean the bathroom while I was gone!”

“But, that was my free hour!”

“It wouldn’t be so dirty if you didn’t eat so many of Sweetie Belle's turquoise tacos!"

“Well, Sweetie Belle makes good tacos, and I like eating tacos, and-”

“That explains that brown patch I saw on her dress after my brother’s wedding. It looked like a rabbit, but I thought it was just some symbol.”

After Spike cleaned the bathroom, he asked about why she came home looking ticked off.

“Because apparently our ‘hero’ is a complete booze-hound! The first thing he asked me after the meeting was if there were any bars.”

***

“Al-ca-traz! Al-ca-traz! Al-ca-traz!” The crowd chanted.

Alcatraz was embroiled in a drinking contest with the bar’s owner, Berry Punch. He’d seen the promotional offer on the menu. “Beat the owner in a drinking contest, and all booze is free for a week!”

Naturally, he took the challenge the second he saw it. He was warned that nopony had ever beaten Berry since the night she was old enough to drink. That just incensed him further.

“No man, no woman has ever beaten ol’ Alky at the game of drink!” He proclaimed proudly before the contest.

“Please! I’ve beaten the booziest ponies, I drank griffons into walls! Diamond dogs have puked at my hooves, zebra shamans have put their strongest stuff on the table ‘n I beat them at their own drink! I once outdrank a twelve-foot dragon! I ain’t met my match by a long shot!” Berry countered.

“Very well! To make this fair, we’ll use the drink of your choice.”

“Cocky, aren’t we? Wild Pegasus apple whiskey.” Berry set up a table, and grabbed several bottles. She poured them both several shots to start. A grueling battle ensued, full of insults and alcohol-induced slurring.

“Yoo giv’n up yit, Burry?” Alcatraz inquired, his mind somewhat hazy after two bottles of whiskey.

“Yo f’rst Alcit- Alytrik- Why’s yer name so buck’n hard tuh spell? I mean, prenunsinate.”

“Fugg if I know, ‘s juss th’ fam’ly name. Duh ponies haf fam’ly names?”

“Nuh-uh, we sorta got themes, but thassit. Wait, if All-trike-ass ‘s yer fam’ly name, whass yer name?”

“Theodore.”
“Thass too hard to prenunsinate when I’m incoxitated.”

Alcatraz cracked up laughing.

“Whasso funny?”

“Yoo said ‘cocks’!”

Now Berry was laughing.

“Okkay, yeah I did. But s’r’sly, what cin I call yuh that I can say when I’m a bit tipsy.”

“Ted. An’ yuh call that tipsy? Yer piss drunk!”

“I’m fine, I can- I can make it. Wait, ‘Ted’ as in ‘Teddy-bear’?” Berry snickered.

“No, uh-uh. Nobudy calls me th’t.”

“Not even the ladies?” Berry Punch did her best to look seductive as she said that.

“Nope. ‘N yoo ain’ ‘zactly a ladee.”

Another two bottles of whiskey later and they were still at it. Everypony in the bar was in awe of them. Truly this was a clash of titans!

“D’yoo *hic* think I’m sexy?” Berry asked.

“Whoa, I don’ roll tha’ way!”

“Wait a sec. *hic* ‘R yoo gay ‘r sumfin’?”

“Nuh, I’m into chicks.”

“Wut? Grossss! Sikko! You ssay away fr’m Stukaloo!”

“Whuh? Nuh, I mea’t I dig wimin, juss nut ponee wimin. Ain tha’ drunk yet.”

“How mush more’d it taik fer that to change?”

“More’n yoo got. Wait. Yer hittin’ on me, ain'cha!”

“Yuh. So?”

“I’ve only ben heer too dayzz, an’ yer the secin mare to hit on me. At thiz rait, I’ll have one mare erry night!”

“Hoo wuz the firs’?”

“Raidbow Dish. I was in a drink’n contest wif her ‘n her frienz lass night. Rinboo passt out firss, Pinknee passt out lass. Dosh can’t hold ‘er liquor; she had like, fer mugz annen she went ‘krshhh’! I win’d the game, natrely.”

“Dammit, tha game!”

“Fugg! I wen’ a month withou’ losin’ it!”

Berry Punch collapsed, unconscious. Drool pooled on the floor near her head, and she began to snore.

The bar’s patrons, who had only increased in number as the spectacle continued and word spread of the newcomer’s progress, were in complete awe at Alcatraz’ drinking prowess.

“Luks like yoo juss lost,” Alcatraz grabbed a pair of sunglasses from Pinkie Pie and put them on. “Th' other game.”

“YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!” The patrons cheered with enough volume to wake all of Ponyville.

“Wait, Pinknee? Where’d yoo cum fr’m?” Alcatraz asked, realizing Pinkie had been the one to give him the sunglasses.

“I heard about your contest and came to cheer you on! And I just made fifteen hundred bits by betting a hundred on you at 15:1 odds! I knew you could do it, Alky!”

“Thanks Pinknee! Yoo ar troo fren!”

Alcatraz walked out and entered his newly painted APC, closing the door behind him. He laid down inside on a mattress and pillow AJ gave him, put on his helmet, and went to sleep. He didn’t need to sleep, but he liked it anyway. That bit he told Twilight about nightmares wasn’t exactly true; he had nightmares just as often as before the Manhattan campaign, the only difference was that they were much worse now.

***

Alcatraz awoke sober and early this time; 5AM to be exact. He may have been partying last night, but he always tried to adhere to at least some semblance of military protocol. And considering he was meeting a foreign, no, alien dignitary tonight, he needed to be at his best.

Probably sober because my helmet introduces something into my bloodstream that straightens me out. This suit kicks ass in ways I never expected. Need something to get the booze off my breath, though.

Alcatraz searched through his APC for a candy bar or bottle of mouthwash or something. He found an unopened hygiene kit with a toothbrush, some toothpaste, mouthwash, a few dozen disposable razors, a brush, a shampoo/conditioner combo and some shaving cream.

Just add water.

He moved to the driver’s seat of the APC and set it to “silent-running” mode, which functioned similarly to a diesel-electric submarine; when the regular engine is running, it charges a large battery, which powers the quieter of the two modes. The drastically reduced noise level of said mode was designed to aid in sudden raids by giving the enemy as little warning as possible. In this case, it was being used to avoid disturbing anypony.

He drove to the library and parked in a position that would allow him to disembark quickly if need be. Following that, he shut off the vehicle and exited through the top hatch. From there he infiltrated the library and made use of its bathroom. Once inside, he quietly shut the door and removed his helmet.

Smells nice in here, like almonds. Oh shit, potassium cyanide!

Alcatraz rapidly donned his helmet, and upon reassuring himself that there was no cyanide in vapor form present, he removed it again and began shaving his beard. After that he brushed his teeth and used mouthwash. He wetted his hair and shampooed it, washed it out, and combed it back into a smooth wave. Following that he cleaned up any mess he made and picked out a book to read from his digital library.

Catcher in the Rye; way overrated. Huck Finn; good, but I’ve read it like a dozen times. Fifty Shades of Grey; delete that shit, I already have 50 gigabytes of real porn saved. No, delete, didn’t know that was a book, fuck no, uh-uh, niet, nein. The Hunt for Red October; sweet, haven’t read that one in ages!

He headed for a beanbag in the corner and sat down. To turn the virtual pages, he flicked his thumbs left or right, and the pages were overlaid on his HUD as semi-transparent images, enabling him to retain situational awareness while still maintaining an experience faithful to the regular paperback.

The Red October

Captain First Rank Marko Ramius of the Soviet Navy was dressed for the Arctic conditions normal to the Northern Fleet submarine base at Polyarnyy…

Author's Notes:

FUN FACTS
*When I was typing the drinking battle, I had the Berry Punch desktop pony wandering across my screen to give me inspiration.
*Potassium Cyanide actually smells like bitter almonds, not the sweet kind commercially cultivated and eaten. In fact, the ability to smell this scent is a genetic trait, rather than a normal human ability.
*I couldn't find my copy of The Hunt for Red October, so I had to use the Google books version to type out the first line.
*Tom Clancy is probably my favorite author; I've been reading his books since 7th grade.
*Catcher in the Rye is fucking overrated, I had to read it last summer for school.
*I'm typing the next chapter before I move on to my superhero fic; I might even type two more chapters instead of just one more!
*FIRST!!!

Friendly Neighborhood Alcatraz

Twilight awakened from a strange dream and rolled over in her bed to look at her clock. Since it was Saturday, she’d allowed herself to sleep in by an hour. But considering she hadn’t fallen asleep until 3 AM, she wasn’t as well-rested as she should’ve been, and thus lacked her normal (albeit temporary) morning perkiness. She got up and made her own coffee, with lots of cream.

“It’s just a dream,” She said to herself.

“Twilight!” Alcatraz said, apparently waiting for her sitting on a beanbag.

“No!”

Alcatraz laughed as if there were an additional part to the joke that only he understood, awakening Spike, who came to see what the fuss was while still wearing his blanket.

“It’s not funny! I dreamt you showed me your- Never mind!" Twilight reproached, still shaken from her dream. Spike snickered at her discomfort.

Alcatraz removed his helmet to reveal his now shaven features and gave her a look that silently implied an “Oh really?” on his part.

She continued her horrified look, giving him his answer.

“Oh wait, you’re serious. Let me laugh even harder!” And laugh harder he did. He was literally clutching his sides and laying on the floor, his mirth infecting Spike, who broke into open laughter alongside him.

“C’mon, Twilight, lighten up!” Spike added with a smile. “I mean, there are way worse dreams to have.”

“I guess,” She sighed. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Well, I thought I’d ask for your help planning the day. Considering I’m meeting your Princesses tonight, I might as well get ready.”

“Sure, let me read the paper first.” She agreed. “Spike?”

“On it,” Spike yawned. He walked out the door, and came back a few seconds later with a roll of newspaper in his hand. He tossed it to Twilight, who grabbed it with her magic and opened it. She sat down and scanned the front page.

“Let’s see here,” She yawned. “A few dozen dead in Ambleppo; nothing new. We’re way ahead of Chineigh in the Olympics; good to hear. Glenn Buck decries Luna’s ‘Socialist-Nazi-Muslim agenda’; what the buck does that even mean?”

“If he’s anything like Glenn Beck, it just means he’s being a race-baiting cocksucker as usual.”

“Sounds about right. Uh, what else? Pony State scandal stuff. Let’s see what we’ve got in local news.” Her expression changed to one of anger. “'Newcomer tells tall tales and beats bar owner Berry in booze binge!?' Alcatraz, you promised me you weren’t going to drink last night!”

“I didn’t say who I promised to!” Alcatraz replied defensively.

“What do you mean? It was implied you promised to me!”

“I was, uh, getting back at myself for all the times I nodded off in Spanish class in high school! I deprived myself of an important second language, and I needed to get revenge for it! So I drank three-and-a-half bottles of Wild Pegasus Apple Whiskey to not just betray my own trust, but beat my faith in people who are me to a pulp!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“It does to me, and that’s what matters.”

“Ugh.” Twilight facehoofed. “Okay, will I have to worry about your behavior tonight?”

“Nope.”

Maybe. Depends how douche-y the princesses and their entourage are.

“Then we’ll just need to get you something to wear over your suit. Hopefully Rarity can make something on such short notice.”

Alcatraz stood up, and Spike jumped to attention at the sound of his crush’s name.

“Where’s Rarity live?” Alcatraz asked.

“I’ll take you there,” Spike offered.

“Thanks dude, just let me drop off a few things in my APC.”

“I’ll pick up my dress later,” Twilight added.

The dragon and soldier departed, walking silently for several minutes. Alcatraz found the silence odd in that it was only between them. The inhabitants of Ponyville all seemed to go about their business with only the occasional glance at him, showing an apparent lack of xenophobia.

“So uh, Alcatraz?” Spike started.

“Yeah?”

“What is it you do? I mean, I wasn’t at that town assembly yesterday, so could you fill me in?”

How do I break it to a kid that I kill people for a living?

“Uhhhh…” Suddenly, music started to play out of nowhere. “What the fuck?”

Pinkie appeared, swinging by on what appeared to be an organic, white substance. She hopped in front of the two and began performing acrobatics to the music’s rhythym.

“Alcatraz, Alcatraz,
To stop him you’ll need more than just a SPAS
Fights bad guys, anytime, swats them down, just like flies
Look out, here comes the Alcatraz!
‘Is he strong?’ Listen bud
He’s got nano-stuff in his blood
‘Can he jump, from ledge to ledge?
Take a look overhead
Hey there, here comes the Alcatraz!
In the chill of night, at the scene of the fight
Like a beam of light, he arrives to turn the tide
Alcatraz , Alcatraz, friendly neighborhood Alcatraz
Can’t say that, he’s ignored
But action is, his reward
To him, life is a great big game-a
Wherever there’s a gang-up
You’ll find the Alcatraaaaaaaaaaz!”

Pinkie ceased her cavorting and singing and smiled. “So whaddaya think?”

“Pretty damn good! But, I haven’t even done any fighting in Ponyville, so how did you know the stuff I do?” Some of it anyway.

“Lucky guess,” she shrugged. Pinkie bounced away joyously, humming something to herself.

“How-” Alcatraz began.

“Don’t ask. You just get used to it,” Spike cut him off. “So, you’re a superhero?”

“Hmm… I guess you could put it that way.”

The pair resumed their journey, which lasted a few more minutes. Upon reaching the building, Alcatraz opened the door and held it for Spike. After that he removed his helmet, stowing it under his arm.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, dude.”

Closing the door behind him, Alcatraz surveyed the room. Around him was an array of fancy attire, all perfectly arranged in a way that pleased the eye, even if the mind didn’t fully grasp the level of organization. Spike walked up to a counter and rang a bell.

“One minute please,” Rarity responded. Exactly a minute later, she pranced down the stairs. “Hello, Spike; Alcatraz, good to see you. You look different, did you do something with your mane?”

“Yes, I did actually. I’m here to ask if you could make something for me to wear, like a tuxedo. Bear in mind I’ll have to wear it over my Nanosuit, so making it fit may be an issue. Can you whip something up on such short notice?”

“I took the liberty of estimating your size the other day, and used the time you saved me with your idea to modify our old Gala wear to make you a tuxedo.” Rarity levitated a crisp black suit out from a rack containing several dresses, and over to Alcatraz, who grabbed it and carried it to a changing room, slipping his helmet back on to maintain situational awareness.

“Is there anything I can do to help, Rarity?” Spike asked longingly.

“Yes, as a matter of fact there is. I need your help sorting my gems by quality using your innate dragon abilities. I’ll let you have a few when we’re done,” She replied with a genuine smile.

Spike nodded eagerly, licking his scaly lips at the thought of the delicious treats awaiting him.

Meanwhile, in the surprisingly roomy changing room, Alcatraz was slipping into the black pants, which seemed to be made of the same durable silk as the rest of the ensemble from what a quick scan with his suit’s visor told him.

They fit quite well, just a little loose around the waist. Luckily, a belt had been provided for him, with a belt buckle featuring an eagle made of Argentium sterling silver; an alloy of silver containing a small percentage of copper and germanium to decrease tarnishing and add other useful properties. He looped the belt through the loops but left it unbuckled for the moment.

Next he donned the white button-down shirt provided for him, which fit quite well when he finished buttoning it. He tucked it into his pants and buckled his belt. Lastly, he put on his black coat and did his black bowtie. Looking in the mirror, he straightened out anything that was out of place and exited the changing room.

Why do they even need a changing room? It’s not like they wear anything they can take off. Maybe they’re all really hairless? Nah, probably just so the occupants of the room can have some space to try on clothes instead of awkwardly fumbling in front of other ponies.

Alcatraz removed his helmet once again, and Rarity turned from her gem sorting to see him in his new formal attire.

“Alcatraz, you look magnificent! I was hoping that the ensemble wouldn’t be ruined by your suit, and thankfully it isn’t. Just um, try to keep it tidy, would you?”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll take it off and carry it to my APC next to Twilight’s house. I’ll put it back on around 6 PM.”

He left and did exactly as he said he would, and stored his SCAR and Marshall too. He sat inside the library and read what he could about Equestria’s military. Strangely, he couldn’t find anything about the modern Equestrian armed forces.

At 6 PM, he put his formal wear back on, adjusting it in front of a mirror in the library. At 7, night fell and his transportation arrived outside. He found the others all dressed and ready to leave.

“We’re riding in a carriage?” Alcatraz queried, confused by the odd method of transportation.

“Of course we are, Alky! Just hop in,” Pinkie replied.

He stepped into the enclosed vehicle, shut the door and sat down. He felt the distinct sensation of taking off shortly after.

“What the hell?” He blurted. He looked out the window, and saw them traveling hundreds of feet above the ground. “Are we flying?”

“Uh, duh! We couldn’t have gotten there any other way this late at night. ‘Sides, it’ll only take an hour to get to the castle this way; if we took the trains it’d take longer, and you’d probably scare a lot of ponies,” Rainbow Dash told him.

“True enough. I was expecting a helicopter, but whatever.”

“What’s a helicopter?” Pinkie asked.

“I’ll tell you some other time. I’m gonna read.”
“How? You don’t have any books on you as far as I can tell.” Twilight this time.

Alcatraz put his helmet back on, and opened The Hunt for Red October to continue where he left off that morning. “I can store an entire library of books with this suit, and read them with the visor; I don’t need physical copies anymore as long as I have this suit.”

“Pfft. Egghead,” Dash muttered.

An hour passed, the ponies chatting and Alcatraz reading. They all quieted down when they felt the soft bump of landing on the grass. For the umpteenth time, Alcatraz removed his helmet.

A set of guards escorted them to the dining room, where a large table sat. The ponies and Alcatraz (who was provided a rather comfortable chair) took their seats around the table, and the princesses entered. Alcatraz watched as they sat beside each other at the head of the table. Three other ponies entered, one a white unicorn wearing a military dress uniform that reminded him of the guards outside Buckingham Palace, another white unicorn with a golden mane and bowtie, the other a pink “alicorn” wearing royal regalia.

Princess Celestia cleared her throat. “Thank you all for coming. We are here to welcome Lieutenant Theodore Alcatraz to our world and country, in hopes of showing goodwill toward his people, who as I understand will begin their arrival in eleven days. Lieutenant, you’ve met most of us, but the three you haven’t seen before are Prince Blueblood, Shining Armor, who is the captain of the Royal Guard, and his wife Princess mi Amore Cadenza.”

Alcatraz had no trouble deducting who was who, and understood the meaning of the Princess’ name.

Italian, interesting.

“Please, just call me Cadence,” Princess Cadence added, without a hint of the Italian accent Alcatraz expected.

A guard walked up to Celestia and whispered something into her ear. “I’m terribly sorry Lieutenant, but Princess Luna and I are needed elsewhere at the moment.”

“It’s no trouble, Your Majesty. Running a country is a full-time job,” He replied graciously.

The princesses left the room in a hurry, but the waiters arrived with menus almost as quickly. Alcatraz eyed what was available, and noticed a diverse selection of meat.

“Excuse me, but I’m under the impression that ponies are herbivores, yet there is a rather wide variety of meat available. Why?”

“We’re sorry if you’re offended, it’s just that not all our guests are herbivorous,” Princess Cadence explained.

“Actually, I’m not offended at all; humans are omnivorous.” Alcatraz looked at the menu, and up at the waiter. “I’ll have the 20 ounce strip steak. Medium rare, and leave the fat on. I’ll also take the rosemary olive oil bread, the whole loaf, and leave the butter on the side.”

The waiter nodded and left for the kitchen with his order. The others were making their orders, and one by one each of their waiters left for the kitchen.

“I have to say, I’m impressed with the luxury of this castle,” Alcatraz commented with a smile.

“I’m sure you are. Only the finest servants work in this castle.”

“I wouldn’t mind living here, though I doubt that even if I did I’d be here much anyway. In fact the ponies back in Ponyville seemed fairly friendly, despite their initial near-hysteria at the idea of an alien among them. I think I’d like moving from Scottsdale to somewhere in Equestria, just keep me up to date on my favorite video games and give me some tequila and I’ll be happy.”

“Wha’ in tarnation is ‘tequila’?” AJ asked.

“A distilled beverage made from the blue agave plant.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Me neither. Heck, I’m familiar with every plant outside of the Everfree, and I’ve never heard of it!” Twilight added.

I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.

“So, Lieutenant,” Shining Armor began.

“Yes?”

“What’s your country’s royal guard like?”

“If you mean the Secret Service, who protect the President of the United States of America, I wouldn’t be able to tell you much about that.”

“Then, what does your rank mean?” Shining was beginning to show visible confusion.

“It’s a military rank. I’m a Lieutenant in the United States Marine Corps’ Force Reconnaissance. Do you actually lack a military?”

“Well, yes. We haven’t had overt war in over a thousand years, since Princess Celestia came to power.”

“Hmm. And from what information I’ve gathered, you have the technology to make firearms, and I’ve personally seen models that mimic those from less than twenty years ago on my world. Tanks, helicopters and jets exist in other pony nations according to your version of the internet. Despite this, you possess nothing more than guards armed with spears, low velocity fight and ‘magic’.”

Once again, Rainbow Dash muttered the word “egghead”.

“With Princess Celestia’s power, we don’t need a modern military.”

Bullshit.

Princesses Celestia and Luna returned to the room and sat down just in time for dinner to be served. The meal itself was filled with generic and largely uninteresting chatter for the most part.

After the meal, the princesses brought Alcatraz and Shining Armor into a room with a large map as a centerpiece. The walls were lined with veteran guards, and a few ponies in civilian dress, whom Alcatraz suspected to be OGAs.

“I brought you here in part for diplomacy, but more so because you’re an expert on these aliens that have been antagonizing us recently,” Celestia stated.

“Correct. I’m familiar with their tactics and the different units they utilize, as well as their weaknesses. I can tell you that you won’t be able to simply incapacitate them, which would seem to fit your pacifistic nature.”

“Are you suggesting we kill sentient beings?” Celestia demanded.

“Yes.”

“Unacceptable.”

“Ma’am, you don’t have a choice if you want to eliminate this threat. The Ceph do not negotiate. They do not take prisoners. They unleash biological weapons on civilian populations without provocation.” Alcatraz began entering a command onto a display on his left palm. His helmet lit up and projected images of victims of the Manhattan Virus onto the wall, where they appeared in all their disgusting detail for the awestruck ponies to see.

“The Manhattan Virus was spread via airborne spores, and only in this form. The virus ate up tissue, causing cellular decomposition.” A short video of a victim’s face being eaten up using time-lapse photography looped. “The virus also turned certain cells into a fungus that grew using the degraded biomass as nutrients and covered affected areas of the victim’s body. Victims were given a conscious tendency to wander towards Ceph controlled areas to aid in their extermination.”

The ponies began to look sick as the fungus was shown on a body.

“Eventually their airways would become completely obstructed, and the victim would suffocate. After that, the virus died, and fungus finished melting down the corpse into this.” A pile of bones covered in a mass of solid colored pink-orange slime appeared on the wall. “They kill us, break us down, and reduce the environmental impact almost to zero. I don’t have any way currently to tell where or when the Ceph will attack. But if you help me, I can narrow it down.”

The ponies in the room considered their options. On one hoof they had their moral code, but the other seemed to contain their survival.

“Will your people fight alongside ours?”

“Yes. I can assure you of that. But we took heavy casualties when we fought them in Manhattan, and even if our numbers exceed ten thousand we will need more than just logistical support. Do you have a military infrastructure in place?”

“Our allies do. With their assistance, we can raise an army.”

“Not just an Army; you need a Navy, an Air Force, a Marine Corps. You need special forces to undertake dangerous missions. And most of all, you need to start now. Inform your country and your allies.”

Luna looked skeptical. “What prevents them from merely thinking us mad?”

“I have to agree with Princess Luna,” Shining Armor agreed. “What could we possibly provide them with to get their help?”

Alcatraz smiled. “Evidence.”

***

Three days later, Alcatraz was driving his VL-90 APC in the Ponyville area with Shining Armor and three other Royal Guards in the passenger compartment. He’d left a significant portion of his collected firearms and ammunition at Twilight’s house, just in case the APC got trashed.

He’d provided weapons and they guards had acquired their own uniforms and armor. To Alcatraz’ pleasant surprise, their uniforms were the same Woodland MARPAT that the Marines used, and their ballistic vests likewise a parallel in color and form. They’d painted their faces and bodies with matching colors at his behest, in order to subdue the bright colors of their coats.

He’d repainted the weapons to match their uniforms and trained them in the use and maintenance of firearms. To their credit, they were quick learners and showed a knack for military operations, at least in the rigorous practice sessions. Of course, there was only so much training one could go through; at a certain point training had to transition to reality, which would be the real decider of whether they were ready.

They could hear the sloshing of the water in Froggy Bottom Bog through the vehicle’s hull, which took in some water to power the hydrogen engine. Alcatraz liked the idea that this vehicle could literally be fed water to power it, just like the Warthog in Halo.

I wonder if they got the idea from Halo? Maybe Halo’s having an effect on technological development like Star Trek did.

“Seismic activity detected in close proximity. Possible Ceph presence.”

A waypoint appeared on Alcatraz’ HUD, indicating an area four hundred meters northwest. The route was obstructed by thick trees, precluding any further use of the APC. Alcatraz moved from the driver’s seat into the passenger compartment.

“Alright, here’s our stop boys! We’re hiking a bit less than half a klick northwest of here. Stay behind me and keep your eyes peeled; fucking squids could pop out at any time.” Alcatraz opened a side door, and the team piled out.

For this mission, Alcatraz had left his lighter previous loadout at Twilight’s house with much of his other weapons. This time he was carrying his Marshall shotgun, a Mk 60 Mod 0 with a reflex sight and laser sight, and a Majestic revolver. He pulled out his Mk 60 and flicked it from safe to automatic. He didn’t want to be caught off guard if he could help it.

They waded through the bog, met a steep hill obstructing their passage, and entered a small tunnel. Inside the tunnel, the unicorns lit their horns up to illuminate the area, revealing ancient inscriptions on the walls.

“What do they say?” Alcatraz asked. “Any linguists here?”

A blue unicorn wielding a Feline submachinegun raised his hoof, and Alcatraz nodded acknowledgement. “‘Turn back now. Beyond this point there are influences which baffle and frighten. The birds do not sing, the trees sway without wind, the grass is brittle and grey. A town built on this land was stricken by madness in the third year of its existence. The land ahead is cursed by forces so ancient that no pony can comprehend them. Leave.’ That’s all it says, the word after ‘leave’ stops halfway through.”

“Thank you Sergeant,” Shining Armor said to him. “Sounds messed up. You sure we should go on?”

“Positive. I can explain these phenomena somewhat. Before the Ceph revealed themselves on Earth, there were countless places that exhibited similar traits to where we’re about to go through. Animals avoided the areas completely, and humans claimed to feel uneasy in these places. Some of them were radioactive, some of them linked to ancient mythologies that seemed almost real to brave explorers. Unlike how most aliens were expected to invade from space, the Ceph waited underground for millions of years after having traveled from another galaxy. That’s why seismic activity telegraphs their presence; they come from below.”

“How will we know if the area is radioactive?” Shining asked, visibly concerned.

“My suit has a Geiger counter that’ll tell me. If it starts ticking, I’ll have you fall back here. Until that happens, make sure your gun and shoulder cameras are on, alright? We’re here for solid evidence that Ceph exist, so that we can get Equestria help from its allies. We bring back videos of them, tissue samples, and maybe some technology too.”

They proceeded through the tunnel, stepping over skeletons of ponies, and occasionally on them. The walls seemed to bulge inwards as they proceeded, and the tunnel wound in such a way that the trip took twice as long as it should’ve.

When they reached the end, Alcatraz motioned for them to stop. One of the ponies continued anyway, prompting Alcatraz to pull the pony back by his mane.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, but don’t let it happen again. Stay here, I’ll take a quick peek outside.” The ponies gaped, impressed that a being without magic became completely invisible in front of them. “I’ll only be a minute or two, and I’ll stay on your radios. Contact me if you need anything,” He said over their radios.

Alcatraz exited the cave, and heard the welcome sound of his Nanosuit’s advice

“Recommend tactical assessment.”

He moved to a ledge, staying low, and peeked over it. On the other side, twenty-five meters in front of and five below him, was a group of eleven Ceph grunts and a Ceph grunt commander. They were standing in a small but fortified CELL camp that was littered with the bodies of its former tenants, with a destroyed HMLTV in the center. There was plenty of cover for the Ceph to use, but like always, they seemed to wander near explosive barrels, oblivious to their hazardous nature.

Alcatraz tagged the dozen of them and returned to the alcove where his team was waiting. He decloaked and began to speak.

“Alright, just outside of this little cave is a ledge overlooking an enemy camp. A dozen of them down there; eleven grunts and one commander. There’s plenty of cover for them, but there’s also some red barrels filled with fuel we can shoot to put the hurt on ‘em. Follow me, stay low, and hold your fire until I say so. Are your cameras still on?” The ponies all nodded.

The five of them crawled out of the cave, and moved to the ledge overlooking the camp. Alcatraz switched to his Mk 60. At his sides, the ponies all aimed down their sights and flicked their safeties off. For several minutes they watched the aliens go about patrolling the camp.

“Aim,” Alcatraz whispered. “Open fire.”

The five of them began shooting. One of the ponies fired a grenade at the grunt standing by a fuel tank, injuring it and exploding the barrel, which practically obliterated the alien and left its exoskeleton completely empty save for a few small puddles of pink gore.

Alcatraz began firing bursts at the commander, wearing down its shields bit by bit. The Ceph returned fire, focusing on Alcatraz but killing the pony who’d translated the inscriptions earlier. Shining Armor’s face was splashed with his comrade’s blood, stunning him. The other ponies ceased fire as well, having never seen a pony killed in their entire lives.

Alcatraz continued firing at the now more aggressive Ceph, now trying to suppress them on his own. “What the fuck are you doing!? Keep firing or we’re all dead!” He threw a frag grenade at an advancing lance of grunts, killing three. Then he continued firing on where he thought the commander was. He hit nothing but dirt.

The commander was right behind him. The ponies opened fire on it and Alcatraz activated his suit's maximum armor; his suit muscles increased in density and absorbed the crushing melee of the commander, glowing faintly blue as they did so.

“Watch your fire!” He shouted. Alcatraz smacked the alien with the butt of his machinegun, stunning it long enough for him to unload a prolonged burst into its chest. He fired until chunks of guts flew out of the Ceph’s back. Then he kicked the body off of the ledge and got up to a crouch. The ponies had regained their composure somewhat, and resumed firing on the seven remaining defenders.

Alcatraz reloaded his now empty machinegun, which took precious seconds to do. After that he leapt down into the camp and engaged the remaining Ceph in close combat. He grabbed one by the “throat” and used it as a living shield against its teammates weapons. Pink ooze splattered all over him, some of it getting on his visor. He returned fire with the Mk 60 in his other hand, mowing down three more grunts.

A Ceph equivalent of a squad must’ve returned from patrol, because three stalkers and a stalker commander joined the fray, bringing the enemies' number back up to seven. Alcatraz dropped the body he’d been shielding himself with and sprayed the three stalkers with a lethal amount of fire, killing them and splattering their innards over the ground.

He did likewise with the three grunts, and looked around for the stalker commander he’d seen earlier. He was pounced by it, and it drove its blades into the weapon, rendering it useless.

It was my last mag anyway.

Alcatraz pushed it off and swung the weapon downwards with enormous force, aiming to kill the alien. Instead, he broke the now-useless weapon in half. He drew his Majestic and kicked the creature in the torso, sending it flying backwards. It had an excellent sense of balance, or perhaps gyroscopes, because it turned its flailing flight into a backflip and charged at him, firing its wrist-mounted weapons.

Alcatraz activated armor mode once again, and walked towards the stampeding alien. Time seemed to slow down as he began firing .50 caliber rounds into his foe. The first shot tore off its robotic left arm, the next removing its mechanical right leg below the knee. Alcatraz blew its other arm and leg off, leaving it helpless. He reloaded, holstered his weapon, grabbed the alien and carried it up to where his team was.

The ponies were deeply shaken at the violence they’d experienced, and the death of a friend. They carried his body back to the APC in silence, resting him inside it and closing his eyes. The ponies stared in contempt at their captive as they rode back to Ponyville.

***

Four days later, in Canterlot, Alcatraz walked into the meeting between Equestria and her allies and sat down. He wore no formal wear like the last time he’d been there; merely his Nanosuit. He opted to remove his helmet and show these leaders his face. He drew scant attention compared to the recordings from the ponies’ gun cameras, which depicted the violence the aliens fought with.

“How are we supposed to counter such vicious creatures? Even together, we have little ability to do this unless Equestria raises its own military! You have enormous wealth, resources and population, and extremely loyal and patriotic citizens.” A griffin delegate said. He turned his gaze to the captive Ceph, which floated in a transparent aquarium, and returned his hostile gaze before sucking a small fish into its normally imperceptible mouth.

“That is exactly our plan,” Princess Celestia replied. “I’m sure you’re all aware of the three coup attempts the Elements of Harmony have stopped. Lieutenant Alcatraz pointed out that their effectiveness requires all six of them, meaning if one were incapacitated, the other five would be useless. Additionally, we cannot risk their lives every time a crisis arises, especially ones they can scarcely resolve themseves. Although I loathe admitting it, it seems that force may sometimes be the best answer, and this is one such time.”

The room’s occupants were visibly astonished by her admission. Alcatraz took this to imply that she had an international reputation for pacifism and peace.

“Equestria needs your help to raise a full-fledged military, and quickly. Within four days, several thousand of Lieutenant Alcatraz’ fellow comrades will arrive.”

“What is this human’s tale?” A unicorn with a strong German accent inquired.

“I was sent in advance of a United States Marine Corps task force through a Ceph portal ten days ago to explore the area after a large contingent of the aliens fled through it, although I didn’t expect to find multiple sentient races here, and an existing satellite network. Many of these men and women have fought the Ceph before, making them especially suited to aid in your war.”

“So we can expect meager help from some puny nation composed of weak aliens to fight an extraterrestrial juggernaut?” The griffin asked, not satisfied.

“Wrong. The United States of America is the strongest, most prosperous, most technologically advanced nation on Earth, and a symbol of democracy and righteousness in the world, despite its many flaws. I am a patriot, and so are the rest of the people who make up our massive military, which is by far the best on our planet. The Marine Corps is an elite fighting force numbering two hundred thousand active and forty thousand reservists. A task force of several thousand Marines is nothing to scoff at.”

“Forgive me if I offended you.”

“It’s fine, I hear anti-Americanism on /b/ all the time. Now, even with all that said, the Corps won’t be able to fight this war on its own if the Ceph are half as numerous on this planet as I think they are. We can provide assistance, advice, and fight alongside you or independently as needed. This’ll have to be a team effort.”

“If you’re merely a lieutenant, how are you able to speak for your country in such negotiations as this?”

“I was semi-jokingly given authorization to try and form alliances with any potential allies by Colonel Sherman Barclay, who commands the coming task force. He said I could be the ‘Shepard to his Anderson’”

“Perhaps thou could tell us about thine experiences and thine history with the Ceph?” Princess Luna suggested.

“Well, a lot of my combat prowess is granted to me by this suit. Because of it, I survived wounds that should’ve killed me. Multiple lunge punctures, extensive pulmonary bruising, damage to the vertebrae and sternum, multiple broken ribs and a flail chest segment. When it was given to me by its previous wearer, who was dying, it saved my life by growing into the wounds. I can’t remove the suit because it’s part of me. All of those wounds were inflicted by a Ceph gunship that killed my squad…”

Alcatraz proceeded to recount his fight through Manhattan in depth for the delegates. As he did when he told Twilight Sparkle, he spared no gory details, to the revulsion of his audience.

In light of the revelations presented at the meeting, Equestria’s allies formally inducted it into NETO, and agreed to help it raise an army.

Author's Notes:

FUN FACTS
*In the official Crysis canon, K-Volts were reportedly used on mass protests in Syria.
*I used to lurk on /b/, and I still visit occasionally.
*If you get on my horse I'll take you to the universe, and all of the other places too.
*There is no truth to the rumor that Candlejack kidnaps people who s-

Late to the Party

It was coming tonight. The princesses knew it, the Bearers of Harmony knew it, and Alcatraz knew it. In a matter of hours, Colonel Barclay’s expeditionary unit would be coming through. The first thing they were to do was contact Alcatraz, assuming something hadn’t gone wrong.

Alcatraz remained in his APC outside of the library, maintaining his weapons. Some of the weapons he’d recovered didn’t use CELL camo, even when they had such a pattern available; that was fine with him, as he found the pattern was to gaudy for his suit unless he was in armor mode. He noticed these weapons were exclusive to the black-armored commanders and heavies CELL used. After cleaning a normal Hammer, he stored it in a hidden compartment with some of his other weapons and attachments, such as his SCAR. The rest of his weapons were more readily accessible.

Tonight he would be using a normal M12 Nova 9mm pistol and a Jackal automatic shotgun, with no third weapon. He exited the vehicle and went to talk to Pinkie and her friends at Sugarcube Corner. He entered to find them snacking on a chocolate pie with an Oreo-like crust and whipped cream.

“And you didn’t invite me?” Alcatraz pantomimed an expression of shock. He opened the front of his helmet, revealing his face, and sat down only to have Pinkie shove a slice in his mouth. He chewed and then swallowed it in several separate gulps.

“So,” Rarity began. “I’m glad I had a chance to practice making human clothing with you. How much attire do you think I could sell your people when they come?”

Alcatraz finished swallowing the last of the slice that attacked his mouth. “Considering these are Marines who already have uniforms, I’d say not much at first. But eventually news is gonna get out and humans will probably start coming here en masse. Since CELL is already here, I’d wager that there are other portals on Earth that lead here, which could make Crynet a lotta money if and when they make their portal or portals open to public use. As for dress uniforms, they’ll probably just ship existing ones here if they need ‘em. In a nutshell, be patient.”

“I see.”

“Oh oh oh! Pick me! Pick me!” Pinkie burst out, waving her foreleg through the air.

“Yeah Pinkie?”

“How big of a party will I have to make?”

Typical Pinkie. The rest of them thought.

“Imagine making a party for every single pony in Ponyville. Then make it five times bigger, and you should be able to get them all. I doubt there’ll be any partying until they get settled in.”

“Awwww…” Pinkie’s mane and tail deflated, her eyes got big and she looked at the floor in disappointment. Her lower lip quivered and her eyes watered. “That would’ve been the best party ever…”

Alcatraz put a hand on Pinkie’s shoulder. “I’ll still party with you, even when they won’t,” He consoled her.

Pinkie reverted back to her cheery demeanor and gave Alcatraz a big kiss on the lips, a la Bugs Bunny. She began hopping to the kitchen.

“Does that usually happen?” Alcatraz asked, wiping his face off.

“No”

“Nope.”

“Not that I can remember.”

“Uh-uh.”

“I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Huh. Think she has a crush on me?”

“Well,” Rainbow Dash tried to articulate. “I don’t really think she’s ever met anypony who can out-party her, and you seem to give her a run for her money as far as partying goes. Maybe, I don’t know.”

“I bet she’d like Charlie Sheen.” Alcatraz laughed at the thought of them together.

“Who’s that?”

“A celebrity back where I’m from.” Alcatraz’ helmet rang, using the classic MGS codec sound. “I gotta take this.” He exited the building and sealed his helmet shut.

“Alcatraz, this is Colonel Barclay. You still with us son?”

“Great actually. Just had a delicious piece of pie, if you know what I mean. I just sent you the report summarizing my last two weeks here.”

“I need the short version, if that’s okay. We’ll home on your signal and set up the main camp there; we’ve already set one up at this end of the portal, but we can set up the main camp where you are.”

“Okay, the TL;DR version. I came here, killed some Ceph, discovered a race of sentient equinoids, got captured briefly, escaped, made peace with them, killed some CELL troopers and stole their APC, got drunk, introduced myself to the residents of the town I’m in who don’t buy that I’m an alien, painted the APC in a NATO woodland scheme, got drunk again, met the princesses, killed more Ceph, convinced the princesses to raise an army since they didn’t have one, and some pie, if you know what I mean.”

There was just background noise on the other end.

“Sir? Respond! Colonel!? Colonel!!”

“Lieutenant, is there something in the air I should be aware of?”

“No sir, I swear! Pretty pink ponies, magical purple unicorns, and rainbow pegasi!”

Another length of silence.

“Okay, that’s it. Either you’re messing with me and getting KP duty for a week or you’re getting a section eight.”

“See you soon, sir,” Alcatraz sighed. “I’ll stay on the line in case you need me.”

***

Colonel Barclay followed one of several convoys of vehicles on foot. For a man of forty-two years, he was in excellent shape; his men were openly proud to serve under a man who could hike through a forest as well as they could, and they often showed it. Unlike in Manhattan, he was wearing a coyote tan ballistic vest like the rest of his men, and the same woodland MARPAT fatigues as them, but still sported his signature olive beret. He had a Majestic sidearm holstered and a Grendel with an assault scope slung across his chest. His right hand rested on the pistol grip so that he could ready it quickly, but his left arm just hung normally.

He’d just gotten off the line with Lieutenant Alcatraz, and was worried about him, although he wouldn’t show it. Whether it was something in the air, something about his suit, he thought it funny to mess around with his CO, or he just plain lost it was unclear to him. Every one of those possibilities concerned him in one way or another, and to varying degrees.

A squad of Marines escorted him as he followed the vehicles. He heard generic-sounding chatter through his earpiece, and mostly ignored it. He kept walking until something caught his eye.

A pair of large eyes watched him from the shadows, and he raised his rifle in anticipation of an attack. Whatever it was, it turned tail and ran, the sound of hooves oddly following it. For a brief moment, Barclay entertained the idea that Alcatraz was serious about what he said.

“Sergeant,” Barclay addressed one of his escorts. “I heard hooves beating the ground from that direction.” He indicated the direction with his left arm. “Alcatraz said something about ponies in the condensed oral version of his report; I haven’t read the full written version he sent yet. I didn’t take him very seriously, thought he was joking, but now I’m curious. Can your squad follow me and help check it out?”

“Yes sir.”

Barclay and his escorts commandeered an HMLTV and followed what looked like hoofprints, separating them from the convoy they were part of. After a few minutes of driving, they came to a small hut. The driver parked and jumped out, his Marshall shotgun at the ready.

***

Zecora hid inside her hut, watching through a cracked open window. She had lived in the Everfree forest for quite some time now, but she had never seen such creatures before. They resembled monkeys to an extent, but walked upright and wore what she assumed were some sort of garments.

As for what they carried, and the chariot they rode in on she did not know. Their chariot seemed to have no external force pulling it, so she assumed that they propelled it with their feet whilst inside. Strange eyes which illuminated their path seemed to be a feature of the chariots, making her wonder if they were actually some sort of strange creature they had tamed rather than a traditional chariot.

“Alright people, fan out, surround the hut,” A dark-skinned creature said. “Don’t wanna take any chances with whatever’s in there.”

They spoke Equestrian, albeit with a slightly different accent. Perhaps only the one of them did, and they all spoke differently but understood each other perfectly.

“In position.” A lighter skinned one, with what sounded somewhat like Bon-Bon’s accent, although slightly different. He also wore what Zecora believed were spectacles to aid vision. She assumed these were all males, as they sounded like pony males.

“I got the door, Sarge.” This one sounded like Applejack and Applebloom with his accent.

“Marlowe, take the far side!” A raspy voiced male said. Zecora heard what sounded like a pair of hooves coming around. “Alright, hold fire, hold position. Be ready, but don’t provoke whatever’s in there. I’d prefer to not kill anything.”

Zecora, hearing that they were prepared to kill her, appealed to her gods to spare her, or give her some chance to escape. She’d never seen strange bipedals such as these in her life, and their intelligence and aggression frightened her.

She heard a knock on her door, the same seven-beat “Shave and a manecut, two bits!” that Pinkie Pie used. Tentatively, she cracked open the door.

***

The door opened slowly. Barclay couldn’t make out anything more than the black muzzle of something shorter than him. He drew his Majestic, as his Grendel would be too bulky to maneuver inside the hut if things went bad.

“I know not of what you seek stranger, but understand this: should I not be seen soon, my friends shall sense something amiss!” A female said from within, her accent something Barclay couldn’t specify any further than something African.

“Nice rhyme,” Sweetwater commented. “Fourteen syllables each.”

“Can it, Sweets,” Sergeant Redford told him.

“Ma’am, we saw something watching us and followed its trail back here. We’re not here to hurt you, we just want to talk. We almost killed whatever pet or wild animal was back there. Since you at least seem to be sentient, we’d like to come in and ask a few questions.”

“Fine, I shall allow you into my home. But only you, you must come in alone.”

“Okay, that one was flawless iambic pentameter,” Sweetwater spoke up. “Colonel, if it’s alright, could you ask her if everyone here talks like that?”

Barclay chuckled. These jarheads weren’t exactly professional, but he knew they were skilled and trustworthy. In fact, he downright liked them. “Will do, Private.”

Barclay entered to find the hut filled with all sorts of plants and potions. Entire shelves were filled with the stuff. Other parts of the wall were covered in some kind of tribal-looking masks. He didn’t see the owner of the hut until the door shut behind him, and he turned.

Standing in front of him was what resembled zebra, and wearing gold rings around its neck. He just stared, his features clearly puzzled.

“Sit down stranger and relieve yourself. But do watch out for the cluttered shelf”

Barclay found a stool and tentatively sat down on it. That zebra had just talked to him. It was the creature he saw earlier, and the voice he’d conversed with just moments ago. He was talking to a sentient miniature zebra.

In his silence, he could hear the squad chatting outside.

“Sweets, couldja watch my back? I gotta take a leak.”

“No!” Sweetwater responded.

“I told you to go before we left, and that we wouldn’t babysit you if you needed to go,” Sergeant Redford reproached him.

“Okay, okay. Just uh, watch the perimeter and I’ll go right here.”

Barclay heard a stream of liquid hit the side of the hut and facepalmed.

“Dammit Haggard!” Redford yelled.

“Hold on, almost done. There we go.”

Barclay slapped his face with his left hand, holstering his pistol with his right. “Sorry about your hut, ma’am.” Barclay spoke slowly, still confused by his situation. He’d pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and he wasn’t. He then regained his composure for the most part. “Are you the only talking, uh, pony living around these parts?”

“As far as I know, it is only me. Right now you reside in the Everfree. A mere mile west of here is Ponyville. Will you show that town genuine goodwill?”

Barclay stood up. “Yes, we will; and does everyone talk in rhymes here?”

The zebra shook her head.

Barclay rounded up the squad and headed to the HMLTV. They got in and regrouped with the convoy.

***

Alcatraz heard the convoys coming from a few miles away. The ponies seemed to as well, because the Elements of Harmony followed him as he walked towards the parked vehicles, which were assembled a few minutes outside of Ponyville.

The marines had begun setting up camp and parking their vehicles in patterns that allowed them to shield the camp while still being easy to reach. Alcatraz briefly activated his tactical visor and zoomed in on the vehicles. They were all painted in a woodland MARPAT, as he expected. A few marines saw him and raised their weapons.

“Stand down!” Alcatraz bellowed. The guards lowered their weapons slightly, now aiming them at the ponies. “I said stand down, the ponies are with me. Has Colonel Barclay arrived yet?”

“Yes sir, he’s in the center tent.”

Alcatraz approached the large tent in the center of the camp, pretending to ignore the stares of the marines in the camp, and walked through the flaps covering the entrance to the tent.

“Colonel, I’m here for my section eight,” Alcatraz quipped sarcastically.

“Sorry about that son. I wouldn’t have believed the ‘talking ponies’ thing if I hadn’t met a rhyming zebra.” Barclay looked up at him and his entourage. “Shit, you weren’t kidding about unicorns and pegasi. I read your report, made it required reading for every leatherneck here. These must be the ‘Elements of Harmony’ You were talking about in your report.”

“Yep. This is Dull Dawn, Pearjacqueline, Monochrome Crawl, Thumb Cake, Fallbrave and Dime a Dozen.” Alcatraz was met with silence.

“Tough crowd, huh? So yeah; Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy and Rarity.” The ponies leered at him for butchering their names, and he stared right back. “Hey, chill. In the words of Caesar ‘Relax, I’m fucking with you.’”

Still more silence. “Nobody even got that reference?” It seemed not. “My talents are vasted on zis team!” They either missed that reference too, or didn’t find it funny.

“You’re trying too hard, Alky.”

Alcatraz turned around to see Chino entering the tent.

“Chino, good to see you man. Nice suit, that Fifth avenue?” He grabbed Chino’s gloved hand and shook it.

Chino was wearing a Marine Corps Nanosuit 2, similar to the one he’d seen in Hargreave’s office, but sporting woodland camouflage instead of desert. He had a Jackal automatic shotgun, a SCAR with a grenade launcher and assault scope, and an M12 Nova.

“A USMC Nanosuit 2. Like what you have, but without the biowarfare function, and the armor mode doesn’t ever make the suit glow, on top of the ballistic vest here. Plus, I can change the camo pattern on the camouflaged parts; MARPAT woodland and desert, and all three Navy digital patterns. That’s on top of the active camo.”

“Sounds expensive.”

“Since it lacks the biowar functions, the armor mode is simpler and more efficient, and it has a watered-down AI, it costs about a hundredth of what yours does. As for the whole ‘cyborg who doesn’t need to eat, sleep or drink’ thing as a result of the synthetic muscle growing into my wounds, unless something penetrates the suit and fucks me up bad I should be okay.”

“Sounds like some top-shelf hardware you got, buddy.”

“Don’t worry, Gould says the Army has a better version; same appearance but better features.”

The ponies and Colonel Barclay all cleared their throats at the same time.

“If you two are done talking shop…” Barclay began.

“My bad.”

“Sorry sir.”

“Ladies,” Barclay began, looking at the ponies. “This is Lieutenant Edward ‘Eddie’ Chino. He was a regular sergeant like Alcatraz a month ago, but the brass saw fit to promote ‘em both straight to being officers after they exhibited leadership abilities and showed commendable initiative and bravery. Now, I understand one of you can put me in touch with the uh, Princesses who run this country.”

“That’d be me,” Twilight spoke up. “I can set up a meeting a few days from now in Ponyville if you’d like. It’s only a few minutes from here, and I can host the meeting in the library.”

“That’d be greatly appreciated.”

***

A few days later, the Princesses awaited the humans in the library, their escort of Royal Guards protecting the building from the outside, and the guards Alcatraz trained defending the inside, Shining Armor included. The residents of Ponyville were far from oblivious to the presence, and it was obvious why they were there; the Princesses were there, and everypony knew Twilight Sparkle was Princess Celestia’s star pupil. The logical conclusion was that there was something important going on.

Inside the building, the Princesses awaited 7 PM, when the humans were to arrive.

“Are you sure this is enough security, Aunt Tia?” Princess Cadance asked. Despite wielding little power compared to the other two Princesses, her aunt had insisted that she come, with the reasoning that one day her diplomatic skills needed practice. Cadence was nervous about offending the humans, even if she wouldn’t actually be handling the negotiations; even the presence of her loving husband and several elite royal guards wasn’t enough to completely quell the fear of meeting alien warriors.

“I’m sure. You shouldn’t worry so much,” Princess Celestia responded, giving her niece a calming smile. She would handle the negotiations for the most part.

Luna merely awaited eagerly. She’d heard rumors that the humans had actually landed on their own moon, and sent themselves into space. And because they lived on a different planet, that meant different constellations and planets! She wondered how the humans raised their own sun and moon without horns, or if they hid their horns somewhere under the ugly uniforms these warriors wore.

“By all reports the humans have been peaceful, if somewhat reclusive and territorial. I can understand that, seeing as they’re on an alien world they don’t know much about. They’re supposedly setting up a base for the several thousand soldiers that are arriving over the next week,” Shining Armor commented. He wore his dress uniform for this occasion.
Twilight and Spike were upstairs, watching for their guests, the stars and a full moon above.

***

Barclay had brought a different squad of marines this time. If they got into a fight, he knew those boys could hold their own, but he also didn’t want them offending the rulers of this land, so he opted to keep them at the base. So he brought a more professional team with him, as well as Chino and Alcatraz, who were carrying the same weapons they had days before.

They were in two separate HMLTVs; one for the Colonel and his escorts, and the other for Chino and a second squad in case of an emergency. Alcatraz was already waiting outside the library, in plain sight of the Royal Guards. The headlights of their vehicles illuminated the streets as the passengers exited and the vehicles engines stopped.

Barclay stepped out, his scoped Grendel slung over his armored back and his Majestic holstered. His team of marines followed him to the front of the library, where the guards uncrossed the spears blocking the door. He opened the door and entered, the marines following him in an orderly line.

Inside were three large winged unicorns, whom Alcatraz reported called themselves “alicorns”. One was pink, with a multicolored mane and tail, and stood in the back next to a blue-maned unicorn guard wearing a dress uniform. From what he knew, she was his husband, and the most junior of the three princesses. He was the captain of the Royal Guard, and had been trained by Alcatraz to fight the Ceph.

Before him were two large alicorns, apparently Princesses Celestia and Luna. It wasn’t difficult to ascertain which was which given their appearances. Luna was obviously the one with the dark blue coat and flowing mane of stars, and Celestia the white one with the flowing rainbow mane.

Jesus, it’s like some little girl’s toy or something. I can’t believe I’m in a land of anthropomorphic ponies who seem to be conditional pacifists. I was hoping the first aliens I’d meet peacefully would be like turians, asari or salarians. Not namby-pamby pony princesses.

“Your highnesses. I apologize if I’ve worried you by bringing my own guards, but this is still an alien planet to us. We honestly don’t know much about this world, like potentially hostile local fauna.”

“Perhaps you could find more information on the internet?” The pink pony in the back of the room suggested. Celestia looked at her quizzically, as if she was just supposed to watch.

“I didn’t realize you had an internet here, like on my planet. That makes things much easier as far as gathering information. Do you have a system of GPS satellites as well?”

“Yes,” Celestia answered.

“Thou didst not inform us that we had a space program,” Luna whispered into Celestia’s ear. Celestia merely shrugged. Barclay heard it but said nothing.

I’ll let them keep it up. Might give me an insight into how they tick.

“Anyway, we’re sorry to impose upon your uh, ponies, but we’ve already begun constructing a forward operating base just outside of this town. The men and women under my command need a place to stay, and considering this town’s close proximity to the Ceph portal we arrived through, it’s the best place for it. It’ll do my marines good to get to know the locals.”

“It’s quite alright. We need an assisting military presence while our own military is being built up, and having one close at hoof is something I’m quite thankful for.”

“Ah, yes, I forgot you’re building your first military in a millennium. If I may, I’d suggest adopting a set of rules for your military entering any conflict. I believe a version of Germany’s Bundeswehr could be used as a template; you primarily use your military in self-defense, in fulfilling treaty obligations, and to safeguard your citizens abroad. That would adhere to a version of ‘Just War’ theory.”

The group engaged in a series of discussions about how they’d make things work, and how troublemakers on either side would be dealt with. Ponyville would supply the humans with extra food to supplement their rations, the humans would protect Ponyville from most threats, Ponyville would gain a boost in trade from the marines, and the humans would be allowed to hunt for some extra meat in the Everfree. It seemed like a fair deal.

“Are there any particularly dangerous creatures in the Everfree?” Barclay asked.

“Many. Cockatrices, bears, manticores, and at least one hydra, to name a few.”

Of course. We couldn’t just have benign mythical creatures, we had to have dangerous ones too. I’ll have to make sure every hunting party has a few JAWs on hand. Better to know now though.

“Glad to know in advance.” Barclay smiled. Just knowing that such creatures were present would save lives.

“Happy to help,” Celestia replied graciously. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to raise the sun in a few hours.”

That caught Colonel Barclay off guard. He narrowed his eyes and his mouth opened a bit.

“Raise… The sun?”

“Who raises the sun on your world?”

Barclay shook his head. “Nobody does. It raises itself. Earth takes three-hundred-sixty-five days to complete a full orbit around the sun, and rotates on its axis every twenty-four hours. The heliocentric arrangement been a proven fact for more than five hundred years, since astronomers proved that the orbits of the planets and the sun didn’t match to what the initial geocentric theory held.”

“Fascinating. Could you possibly lend Twilight Sparkle a few of your astronomy books? I believe she would enjoy them.”

“I can lend her a tablet with a few dozen gigs of educational textbooks. Some of my marines are using their pay to get through college and learning while deployed, so we’ve got dozens of those to spare. I’ll send one over tomorrow. I have to leave as well. If I need to contact you?”

“Go through Twilight. She can send me any messages you need to deliver. I’m also having my conference room installed with a large screen that will allow us to converse remotely, but it won’t be installed for at least a week. When it is ready, I’ll have Twilight inform you.”

“Thank you ma’am. When will our arrangements take effect?”

“Within a few days Ponyville will begin delivering fresh produce, and I’ll deliver a weekly allowance to be given to your soldiers to pay for services when they’re off-duty.”

“Excellent.”

The two groups left the library, each returning to their residence with their entourage.

Alcatraz drove his APC to just outside the Everfree forest and slept there, desiring to rest to the sounds of the forest.

***

David McGuire and Max Ulrich waited outside the Germane embassy in Canterlot, cloaked all the while. Their CELL Nanosuit 2s sipped at their energy supplies as the two waited for the signal to attack.

They had two main objectives to accomplish in this mission. The first was to eliminate a group of CELL defectors who’d sought shelter in the embassy and wished to defect to Equestria ASAP, and bore information regarding CELL’s presence in Equestria. The second was to plant evidence implicating Lieutenant Theodore Alcatraz and Sergeant Michael “Psycho” Sykes in the attack. Information available to them indicated that Sykes had accompanied the Marine Corps task force as an advisor. He and Alcatraz were seen in the Everfree area, and hadn’t moved. They had no alibis.

From there, CELL would establish itself as a legitimate force in Equestria, claiming that the aggressive contractors found previously had been part of a rogue unit and that the defectors were defecting from that rogue unit. CELL would capture Alcatraz and Sykes and offer to deliver them to “justice”. After that CELL would be hired to help defend Equestria as it assembled its own military. Crynet would have two major enemies dealt with and a foothold in a region ripe with profit potential.

“Remember,” Commander Bosch told them over the radio. “No witnesses. If less than two ponies see you and live, then this can’t be pinned on us. Move now.”

Ulrich cut the power to the embassy, which had no backup system. With them in the literal dark, they could wipe out the staff and find the traitors with no problem.

They cloaked and entered through the front door, Ulrich barricading it while McGuire executed the receptionist with a silenced CELL Hammer. They continued their grisly work, wiping out every living being in the embassy.

Twenty minutes after the power shorted out, the pair had finished their mission and exfiltrated.

***

Alcatraz awoke to find himself bound inside his APC, which was headed in an unknown direction. To his right was a figure in a Nanosuit 1 and across from him were three armed CELL soldiers, each with a K-Volt.

“So, you’re awake, huh?” One of them said. “You’re on your way to an airstrip, where you’re both gonna be extradited to Germaney for your violent break-in at their embassy. Celestia was kind enough to hire us to escort you there.”

Alcatraz had no idea how much of that was true, or how much was false. Worse yet, his suit said it was three days later than he had been supposed to wake up.

“Really? Prove to me I did something bad.”

“Glad you asked, tin man.” One of the troopers produced a tablet and tuned into PNN, which Alcatraz assumed to be an equivalent to CNN. A newsreel showed several officials condemning the action, complete with audio. Several other channels showed similar stories. A quick check on the internet showed several corroborating sources.

Did I do those things? No… But I don’t think anybody’s gonna buy some last minute “not guilty” plea when there’s a bunch of “evidence” stacked against me.

The ride continued for another hour.

“Comin’ up on a tunnel,” The driver said. The compartment got dark, and the figure in the N1 nudged Alcatraz.
An impact flipped the APC, causing Alcatraz to fall on one of the CELL troopers. He could hear roaring outside, and what sounded like flames. An impact hit the small of his back, and broke his cuffs.

“Nanovision enabled.”

The compartment became bright and monochromatic, and the CELL became colorful shapes. Alcatraz snapped one of their necks, and the N1 wearer snatched one of their pistols before shooting the other two, and the driver. He opened one of the side hatches and heard wings flapping. Peeking out of the vehicle, he saw what had flipped them.

“Are you bloody kidding me? A dragon!?” The N1 said, clearly indicating his British origins with his accent and diction.

“You must be new here. C’mon, help me flip this back over and ditch these bodies.”

The two of them used the power function on their nanosuits and flipped the APC, which was indeed Alcatraz’, as it had the same woodland camo painted on it. After dumping the bodies, taking the PMCs’ weapons, and checking for trackers or bugs, they returned to the safety of the APC’s interior, taking seats facing each other.

“Lieutenant Theodore Alcatraz.”

“Sergeant Michael Sykes. Call me ‘Psycho’. You got a plan?”

“Well, considering we’ve been convicted in absentia of breaking into an embassy and murdering its inhabitants, I think we need to find a place with no extradition treaties. I’ve got my N2 linked up to this planet’s internet, so if you give me a minute I can find a place.”

After a few minutes of searching, he found their destination.

Cauldron.

Author's Notes:

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
If you've read Invictus' Psych crossover, then you'll be familiar with Cauldron, which I asked for and was given permission to use in a modified form. If you haven't read it, then don't worry, because it'll be explained.

And no, I didn't introduce all these new characters for no reason, they've all got a role to play. After all, what kind of fugitive is just left alone?

Will Fight for Food

It was a lengthy two-day travel to Cauldron. Alcatraz and Psycho took advantage of their Nanosuits’ negating their need for sleep to make that trip in half of the four days it would’ve taken most people or ponies. After patching in their APC into a GPS satellite network, they alternated who was driving while en route to their destination.

As they reached the midway point, Psycho was at the wheel.

“So Alcatraz,” He began. “What’s this ‘Cauldron’ place like? It’s pretty obvious it’ll be a haven for international fugitives like us. Christ, I can’t believe I’m a bloody fugitive.”

“Me neither. Basically, it’s an independent city-state near a three-way river. It sits between Equestria, the Gryphon Kingdom, and Diamond Dog territory. It’s like a melting pot where none of their governments can reach them, making it a haven for terrorists and criminals, like Omega in Mass Effect.”

“Let me guess. A ton of crime, crime bosses rule the place, and no Aria T’Loak either?”

“Yeah. Basically, it operates under the watch of dozens of criminal organizations and lacks a unifying figure. The government there is its own gang, with the police and defense force acting as enforcers; they’re a minor gang though, and they only control part of the city. Every gang has its own turf, but about a third of the city is contested.”

“What’s the plan then? Join up with some gang and offer our services?”

“I was thinking more like ‘3rd Street Saints’.”

“Start our own gang and take over? Seems a bit ambitious.”

“Well, that’s a long-term goal. Short-term is to create a merc group, get some steady income, and find-slash-build an HQ. Hell, an abandoned warehouse will do while we get acclimated.”

“So we go to a crime-infested city and try to work as mercenaries with just a few K-Volts, M17 frag grenades, some knives and M12 Novae we got from those CELL wankers earlier? Count me out; we can’t work with that shitty arsenal.”

“Pull over.”

Psycho drove off the forest path they’d been on.

“Look, I’m sorry mate, but it’s not feasib-”

“Shut up and get back here. I need to show you something.”

Psycho moved back to the troop compartment. Alcatraz opened hidden compartments under the seats and showed him their arsenal.

“Two gray-painted SCARs, one gauss attachment, one grenade launcher; approximately 4,000 rounds of 4mm. Two gray-painted SCARABs, with the attachments being the same as the SCAR, plus four suppressors, one underbarrel shotgun; sharing ammo and magazines with the SCAR. Four M12 Novae, plus our eight captured ones, with three suppressors and laser sights; 800 rounds of 9mm. One Hammer with default nickel finish, extended mags, and customized red tritium night sights, plus two suppressors for it; 480 rounds of .50 Compact. Two Majestic revolvers, sharing ammo with the Hammer. Two Jackal autoshotties, extended mags and adjustable chokes; 300 shells of 12 gauge. Three Marshall pump-action shotguns, two suppressors; sharing ammo with the Jackals. One DSG-1 with a suppressor; 120 rounds of .405. One Mk 60 Mod 0 with 600 rounds of 7.62x51mm AP. One Grendel with gray furniture instead of the normal olive drab, and 720 rounds of 6.8x43mm.”

“Shit. I take it back, we’re set to equip a platoon!” Psycho smiled, and retracted the front of his helmet to reveal his grinning face.

“I ain’t done bro.” Alcatraz likewise revealed his smug face. “Twelve packs of C4. Twenty M17 frags. Two JAWs. Twelve assault scopes, twelve reflex sights, two cleaning kits for each weapon. One HMG up top with 300 rounds of .50 BMG. We can operate for a while with all this.”

“Brilliant.”

“This VL-90 has an autopilot program, and my suit’s AI is unlocking it as we speak. It converts water to hydrogen fuel, making range a non-issue. It’s also fully amphibious, travelling at 12 miles per hour in moderately choppy seas. An advanced protection system protects occupants from NBC threats. A silent running feature makes it ideal for surprise attacks. Modular applique armor already added on makes it almost as tough as an MBT. We can definitely start out with the shit we’ve got here.”

“And what do we not have?”

“What we lack at the moment? Personnel, money, contacts, a home base, booze. Well, I’ve got about a thousand Equestrian bits, but while that’s the currency of Cauldron, one-k isn’t much. We need to get rolling and find a place to stay.”

Alcatraz got on the wheel. Twenty-four hours later, they were driving through the filthy streets of Cauldron.

Psycho stared out the small side windows, his Nanosuit sealed, like Alcatraz’. “Looks like a bloody slum. How are we gonna get new weapons and ammo here anyway?”

“Arms dealers. They’ve got the same weapons here as they do on Earth, for some reason. Shit, there’s a lotta parallels to Earth history and weapons, and the ponies can use them without fingers some-fucking-how. Anyway, we’ll need to buy them ourselves.”

After locating a vacant warehouse that was in good conditions and well-located, they parked the APC inside. They grabbed a few weapons to take, got out, shut the hatches and left after rigging up an alarm system linked to their sealed helmets.

***

“I don’t believe it! I refuse to believe Alky would kill innocent ponies!”

“Pinkie, be reasonable! There’s a lot of evidence against them, irrefutable evidence!”

Twilight Sparkle was at her wit’s end. She’d been trying to convince Pinkie that Alcatraz was guilty as charged for the past two days. She’d heard it from high-ranking sources that there were multiple instances of damning evidence corroborated by the human’s data on him. In fact, she had memorized the report.

Rainbow Dash seemed to have taken Pinkie’s side, going beyond the reasonable definition of being the Element of Loyalty for Alcatraz.

“Okay. You say that Pinkie’s Pinkie Sense can’t free him right? What about the evidence that doesn’t match up?” Rainbow was sitting down and staring at Twilight.

“Dash, too much evidence is against him already.” Twilight facehoofed. “First, there’s the nanosignatures that match up to his suit and his accomplice’s. Then, the communications from inside the embassy suggested that the perpetrators used Nanosuits. The accuracy of the shots and short length of the massacre indicate high-quality combat training. The ammunition used was marked with human company names. No blood was shed by them, and several bullets were flattened on the meplat and lying on the floor, further suggesting the use of Nanosuits, specifically their armor mode. The footprints match those of the Nanosuit 2 Alcatraz wears.”

Pinkie stretched her neck from the ceiling, which she had apparently been sitting on, he flank resting in a manner contrary to the influences of gravity. Dash had told them that she was familiar with Pinkie walking on walls and ceilings when she was upset. “Counterpoint time!” She yelled, causing Twilight to fall on her flank. “Dashie?” Pinkie smiled at Rainbow Dash.

“Thank you. The primary target was believed to be a group of CELL defectors. Keyword: defector. I believe it was CELL that did it to defend themselves from any dirt that could be revealed by said turncoats, while simultaneously framing their biggest enemy and some other guy they probably didn’t like. Given that CELL is a subsidiary of CryNet, who makes the Nanosuit 2, it isn’t unreasonable to assume that other Nanosuit 2s are out there in the hands of CELL. Furthermore, the ammunition used was from the same batch number as a large order procured by CELL; a little more digging reveals that this batch was purchased a week after the arrival of Alcatraz in Equestria. This means that he couldn’t possibly have used the ammunition he already had. Lasty, there's no way he could've covered the distance he did between the last time he was seen and the massacre actually happening.”

Twilight’s jaw fell to the floor. She had to use her magic to pick it up, and her first words were ones of surprise. “When did you get so good at investigating?”

“Since the new Daring Do book came out last week,” She answered smugly.

“There’s a new Daring Do book out? And you learned to investigate crimes from it!? Why would- No don’t tell me! I want it to be a surprise!”

Pinkie high-hoofed Dash from the ceiling.

“Your evidence notwithstanding, the ruling is still guilty, and if we even took these points to somepony important, we could be put in danger,” Rarity said, putting a damper on their moods.

“I agree. I’ve read many conspiracy novels, so I feel secure enough to call myself an expert, and the best course of action is to keep this a secret. The fewer ponies who know, the fewer who can give us up to an informant. Even Princess Celestia’s royal court could be compromised. We’re on our own in proving this.” Twilight’s tone was melodramatic, as were her posturing and facial expressions.

***

The two Nanosuited men walked into a (rather large) bar, both trying to think of a punchline. The bartender was unfazed, as was typical of the genre of joke. They sat down and looked him in the eye. The bartender, being a minotaur with a glass eye, stared them both right back at the same time.

Alcatraz spoke first. “Do you have any tequila?” He hoped Twilight had been wrong about there being no tequila on Equis.

“The stuff made from agave? Jackrabbit Slim has that.” Indeed, his name was Jackrabbit Slim, as the nametag indicated.

“Three shots of your strongest tequila.”

“Strongest or best?”

“Strongest.”

“Three of your strongest absinthe. Don’t even try watering it down.”

“Please. Jackrabbit Slim started this establishment to provide real booze in this part of town, without watering any liquor down.”

“Good to hear, mate.”

Beneath their helmets, Alcatraz and Psycho began conversing privately with the short-range radios.

“Did that minotaur just say his name was-”

“Yeah dude, he totally did.”

“Oh my god, if this place gets robbed while we’re in it, I’ll literally shit myself laughing.”

“Nasty.”

“Well the Nanosuit is like a big, self-maintaining, semi-organic diaper, so it’s not like we’d really do anything more than provide it with new materials. Although I don’t really have anything in the pipe right now.”

“Makes sense. The N2 just takes it before I shit though, so I don’t really have the diaper thing to worry about.”

Jackrabbit Slim served them their drinks. After scanning the drinks to make sure they were free of harmful substances other than alcohol, the two men revealed their faces without removing their helmets. After a couple minutes of downing their drinks and tolerating the burn of their chosen alcoholic beverages, they got down to business.

“We’re looking for work, Slim,” Alcatraz opened. “Mercenary work.”

“You wanna get aligned with a gang, or stay freelance?”

“Freelance.”

“Jackrabbit Slim knows a job that a certain businessgriffon wants done. High risk. In the Undercity. Rescue his daughter from an archeological dig.”

“What, she a bloody digger?” Psycho half-joked.

“No. She’s a merc hired to help guard the dig.”

“We’re new in town. What exactly is the Undercity?” Alcatraz asked.

“Basically, when Cauldron was young, criminals were sent to a vacuous natural cavern underground. They lived out their lives, married, had children. They lived down there and established a fairly vibrant and peaceful community down there, a few thousand strong. Now, at some point in the last three years, a virus broke out and infected the inhabitants. Females seem to be immune, some males too, but most males turned into-”

“Zombies?” Alcatraz interrupted.

“Yes. If you want to take the job, contact Mr. Grimwing at this number. Not a soul has made it back from trying to accomplish that job.” Slim passed them a slip of paper with a number on it.

“Surviving in extremely hostile environments is our specialty. Right, Psycho?”

“Damn right.”

“The job offer was put out four days ago. A rescue should’ve taken one day, but the last mercs to go in went two days ago. I know the griffon in question, and she could hold out for a week, maybe two, but I don’t think you should waste time.”

“Alright, thanks. How much for the booze?”

“Twelve bits.”

Alcatraz counted out a dozen coins and handed them over. He and Psycho began to walk out.

“And if you bring her back alive, Jackrabbit Slim will throw in a 25% discount for you going forward!” The minotaur shouted after them.

They returned to their warehouse and entered the APC. Alcatraz contacted the number, which was apparently a Skype-type link, as his suit directed it to a vid-conference screen inside the APC.

“Hello. I’ve reserved this line for information on the rescue of my daughter, Gilda. Since I haven’t seen you before, I assume you’re looking to start a rescue of my daughter.”

Alcatraz and Psycho removed their helmets completely and placed them in their laps. The griffon sat in a luxurious room that reminded Alcatraz of Hargeave’s sanctuary. His head was that of a bald eagle, although where the white feathers on his head would be were grey. His talons were clasped together and lay on the desk in front of him.

“That’d be correct, Mr…” Alcatraz trailed off.

“Grimwing. Mr. Gallant Grimwing. Is there anything you wish to know about the Undercity? I’m quite familiar with it.”

“Yes, sir. What’s the terrain like? How will we get to the Undercity? How many survivors are there? What kind of infected will we encounter?”

The griffon laughed deeply and heartily, before settling down. “Well, I know you humans are new on this planet, but it’s good to see you aren’t fools! None of the mercs before you asked about anything more than how they’d get there and how to recognize Gilda. What’re your names, your qualifications?”

“Lieutenant Theodore Alcatraz. I was recently discharged after ten years of service in United States Marine Corps, which I joined as soon as I graduated high school, seven of which were in Marine Special Operations Command. I’ve got plenty of combat experience, and I’m familiar with fighting non-humans.”

“Sergeant Michael ‘Psycho’ Sykes. Former British SAS, ten years in. Similar combat experience with non-humans.”

“Ah, military men. I was Major in the Griffon Marines, myself. Then I can speak in a more technical parlance?”

“Please do, sir,” Alcatraz answered.

“Your AO is predominately urban, with the maximum engagement distance being about a hundred meters, but normally closer than that. Leave your sniper rifles behind if you have any. Ruined city, a lot of rubble blocking streets and vertical combat. I’ll provide an old elevator that’s close to the camp Gilda was in when it was overrun. From what I could tell, none of the other mercs made it that far, but they seemed incompetent to start with.”

“Survivors?”

“Unknown concentration, largely hostiles and raiders. Plenty of weapons too, expect firefights. Check your targets. My last contact with Gilda suggested she had three others with her. I can get a message to her telling her not to shoot you, but that’s about it with the limited communications down there.”

“Infected?”

“The zombies seem to be in specialized roles. Pegasi became dive-bombing scouts. Earth ponies are cannon fodder. Unicorns charge at enemies and try to gore them with their enlarged, magic-infused horns. Griffons attack like pegasi but have plenty of staying power. Minotaurs are even bigger and tougher, acting like bullet sponges. Diamond Dogs charge their enemies and pound them with their fists.”

“Got it. Scouts, grunts, slashers, elites, bulls, and brawlers.”

“I’ll send you the location of the elevator. Be there inside of three hours and contact me when you get there.” The image was replaced with a few pictures of a female griffon, presumably Gilda, and the audio connection terminated.

“Bloody thankful to know what to use.”

Alcatraz grabbed three packs of C4 and five M17 grenades. He took an M12 Nova and took ten spare magazines with him to total 200 spare and 21 9mm rounds loaded. He grabbed a Jackal, attached a reflex sight, and grabbed twelve extended magazines for 120 plus 11 shells of 12-gauge at the ready. He rounded out with a Grendel with an assault scope and ten spare mags for 240 plus 25 rounds of 6.8mm in the magazine and chamber. The Grendel had its olive drab parts replaced with gray ones for urban combat.

“Alright, I’m packing a balanced kit. Accuracy, power, flexibility, capacity. I can get plenty of headshots with these, and the shotty should cover me in CQC with plenty of firepower. I’ve got a laser sight on my Nova and a suppressor for it just in case”

“Got it. I’ll take a complementary approach.”

Psycho grabbed three packs of C4 and five M17 grenades. He loaded a Majestic revolver and put it in his holster, as the Nanosuit 1 had to use a physical pistol holster and only had magnetic plates on the back, and took 120 spare rounds of .50 Compact. He grabbed a Mk. 60 Mod 0 with a reflex sight and 200 rounds spare for a total of 300 7.62 armor-piercing NATO rounds. To complete the set, he took a SCARAB with gray furniture, a reflex sight, 400 rounds of 4mm, an underslung shotgun with 4 loaded and 20 shells spare, and took a suppressor to put on if he needed to.

“You pop skulls and I make mulch?” Psycho asked.

“Sounds good.”

The two of them left their APC and traveled to the point the client had sent them. It took a mere hour to travel the slum-like streets, and no-one dared to trifle with them. They were unfamiliar, intimidating creatures carrying a large amount of weaponry, walking as though they had somewhere to be and their weapons weighed nothing.

They got on the elevator and contacted the client.

“Mr. Grimwing, we’re on the elevator and ready to depart,” Alcatraz informed him.

“Camera only shows two of you. That right?”

“Yes sir. We’ve both fought very long odds on our own, and work well as a team.”

“Well, at least you’re loaded for bear. Ancestors guide you.”

The link was terminated, and the elevator lurched downwards.

“You didn’t mention that we haven’t worked in a team together before,” Psycho noted.

“No need to worry him.”

Familiar Circumstances

The elevator slammed into the ground a few minutes later. Alcatraz opened the doors and stepped out, Psycho close behind.

“Cloak and survey the area,” Alcatraz ordered. They both scanned the area, Alcatraz using his tactical visor and Psycho with his integrated binoculars. They both found no threats, and decloaked.

Alcatraz drew his Grendel and Psycho readied his Mk 60. They advanced along the deserted outskirts of the Undercity, scanning for zombies. That still struck them as odd, insane actually, the idea that they were in a zombie-infested city, something they’d seen in movies and games, but never expected in real life.

After several minutes of walking, they came to the dig site. It was surrounded by a hastily erected chain-link fence, which had several holes in it. Inside were a dozen or so tents, each torn and tattered.

“Switch up,” Alcatraz ordered. He switched to his Jackal and Psycho switched to his SCARAB. One by one they searched the tents, finding nothing but dead bodies in them. None had anything of note other than the corpses.

Finally, they came to a large tent, which they assumed to be the heart of the camp. Outside were dozens of bodies, mangled and in varying states of decay. Some belonged to guards and archaeologists, but many more to the zombies.

“All grunts,” Psycho commented. “Wait never mind. Dead bull.”

“I hate Red Bull. And Monster, and Rockstar, and energy drinks. Yes, I know what you said, I was just putting that out there. Looks like there aren’t any griffons, our girl didn’t die here at least.” Alcatraz moved to the side of the tent’s entrance. He could tell just by looking that the fabric it was made of was very durable, and after testing it with his knife, he concluded that was true; that meant that it hadn’t been penetrated forcefully. “Stack up.”

Psycho took position on the other side of the tent’s entrance. Alcatraz counted down with his fingers, and upon making a fist, he and Psycho stormed into the tent.

They looked everywhere, and found no bodies save for a unicorn mare that had a hole in her chest. The bones were shattered and they could see straight inside her. Red-gray organs glistened, still wet.

“You think we’ve got Xenomorphs down here too?” Psycho asked after staring at the body for a few minutes alongside his companion. “Looks like a Chestburster.”

“Nah. Bones’d be broken outward, a few chunks hanging on. I think she got impaled.” A quick scan confirmed it. “Yup, impaled.”

The two of them began to search the room for anything that’d give them a clue as to where Gilda, or the other guards and diggers were. There was a single filing cabinet, but the way it was organized put the newest papers in it at two weeks prior. Most desks were empty or full of blank papers, with a few packs of cigarettes, flasks of booze, and snacks on them. The computers were all trashed or otherwise inoperable.

Alcatraz moved to a corner desk and checked the top of it. Some papers, pencils, and a leather-bound journal. He opened the journal to find it was hollowed-out, and a small transparent DVD-ROM case fell out. Inside was a disk with the words “FINAL REPORT; 00:12:36” scribbled on it in blue marker. A laptop was also on the desk, his tactical visor telling him it had a few minutes charge left.

“Yo, Psycho. Got something.” He turned on the computer, slid the disk in, and recognized the Apple logo, or a pony equivalent. It took several minutes before the rainbow wheel stopped spinning and he could actually use the computer. “I hate Apple.” He moved the mouse over to the disk drive and double clicked. Psycho was standing next to him, occasionally glancing at the entrance, their only exit.

A window opened, and the video began to play. The length read as twelve minutes and thirty-six seconds.

On the screen, a sandy-brown young pegasus mare with a black and grey mane and red eyes, resembling Rainbow Dash, appeared on-screen. She wore a Pith helmet and had an olive drab shirt. She looked somber, as though she had just finished mourning a friend. Judging by the body in the background, which looked fresher that the one still in the tent, she had been. A few guards and archaeologists were in the background, Gilda among them.

“There’s our girl,” Psycho muttered.

The mare checked to make sure the camera was on.

“My name is Daring Do. I’ve been leading a dig in the Undercity, searching for the tomb of the first alicorn. Legend held that he had his most prized possession buried with him; a fire-ruby, known today as “The Alicorn’s Heart”, he’d found as a colt, which had grown with him and acquired the size and shape of a dragon’s egg by the time he died. Some legends also held that the wielder would bring about the end of an era for Equestria.”

“Boss, maybe you should focus on recent history?” Gilda suggested, still standing guard in the background. She looked unhurt.

“My crew was able to hold off the zombies for a while. We finally reached the tomb, and decoded the glyphs; the Alicorn’s Heart was moved to a second tomb, located underneath the Alicorn’s Obelisk, located in the heart of the city. There was a trinket that would fit perfectly into the Obelisk, and we think it’ll open a door into it. Just after we told everypony in the crew, they came. A horde of them, all at once, out of nowhere. They tore through our defenses, and killed most of us. Those of us who are still alive are headed to the Obelisk. Our anonymous benefactor is paying us a lot to get this thing, and now I think the best thing to do is keep them from getting it.”

“C’mon, boss. We gotta go before the next horde gets here.” The speaker was an earth pony stallion, brown coat and a chocolate mane. He wore a dusty vest and seemed to have been a scientist or techie judging from the way he was watching a seismometer and a few other sensors, which were gone now.

“If anypony finds this, try to contact us by radio. We have a few weeks of supplies with us; crappy rations, rechargeable batteries. We don’t have much ammunition though, and our medical supplies are low. The frequency is FM 140.15, contact us as soon as you can! Okay, how do I stop the recor-”

The video cut out as the laptop ran out of power.

“Fuck!” Alcatraz exclaimed. “Okay, get ready to head out, Psycho. I’m gonna try the frequency.”

Wait a minute, that’s Meryl’s frequency in MGS. Hope that isn’t an omen.

He activated his radio and selected the frequency he was told to use. It rang twice before someone picked up.

“Hello? Who is this?” A female voice asked. It matched Daring Do’s voice on the video.

“This is Theodore Alcatraz. I’ve been hired by Gallant Grimwing to rescue Gilda. I have a partner with me, Michael Sykes.” He and Psycho walked outside and switched back to their original weapons.

“Buck! Two more amateur mercs comin’ to save ya Gilda, I guess your dad got ones that could make it to the camp this time!”

“Ma’am, we’re many things, but ‘amateurs’ is not one of them. What’s your position?”

A sigh came over the radio. “I’m in an apartment building on the south side of town; corner of Elm and Silver. Sixth floor, we’ve barricaded ourselves in but we’re stuck now. Low on food and ammo. It’s just me and Gilda, and we’re both fine except for a few bruises. The Doctor is in another one several blocks east of ours, on Oak and Cherry; he’s got something we need. His frequency is 141.12. Our buildings shouldn’t be hard to find, they’re a lot higher than the other buildings in the area. Try not to die, alright?”

“Will do.” The link cut out. “Psycho, we’re splitting up. I need you to get the apartment building on Oak and Cherry, south side of town, a few blocks east of my objective. They just call him ‘the Doctor’. He has something they need, and you can get to him while I work on getting to our paid objective.”

“Why don’t we just get the cunt we’re supposed to rescue and ditch?” Psycho demanded, using a word less offensive in Britain than in America.

“Because if we help them do their jobs, we could probably get even more cash. If we find that fire-ruby they were talking about, that means good publicity for our group. Maybe we could get them onto our side and start something up.”

“Fine.” He relented. “Wait, did you say the bloke I’m supposed to rescue is called ‘the Doctor’?”

“Yeah, why?”

Psycho sounded amused. “You’ve never watched ‘Doctor Who’, have you?”

Alcatraz shook his head. “No. I watched like, two episodes and I didn’t have a fucking clue what was happening, so I just decided it was something I wouldn’t get. We can discuss this later. For now, let’s do our fucking jobs, okay?”

Psycho nodded and ran off with his Mk 60 at the ready. Alcatraz likewise ran to the city, which was north of them. That meant that it would be a shorter trip to their objectives.

***

“So Gilda, what’re you betting these mercs fail to rescue us?” Daring Do asked, slumped against a wall.

“Nothing. If I bet against them I either die and win for nothing, or I live and lose money. I can only lose by betting against,” Gilda replied, looking down at her weapon as she cleaned it.

“I guess that makes sense. But there’re only two of ‘em, and I don’t think that’s enough to make it through thousands of zombies.”

“Well, when dad said they were coming, he said they were humans. Don’t know how they’ll fight, but maybe they could make it. Always a possibility.” Gilda raised her brows as she said the last sentence, indicating she did believe it was possible, if improbable.

“What’ll you do if you get out alive? Me, I’m gonna take a break from adventuring and digging shit up. I’ll probably find a place to stay here and just watch some movies, eat junk food.” Daring placed hoer hooves behind her head.

“Heh. My place is always available. As for what I’d do? There’s an old friend of mine I haven’t talked to in a while, lives near Ponyville. I’ll probably write her a letter or something, apologize for how I was such a bitch when I was there.”

Daring cracked up after stifling a laugh. “I can just imagine you being all sensitive and shit, writing some teary letter to your marefriend. ‘I long for your touch, my love! It has been too long since we’ve felt each other’s embrace, and I yearn for our reunion.’” She resumed laughing at Gilda’s expense.

“Hey, she wasn’t my marefriend! Jeez. And I can be sincere, for your information. I just choose to be sarcastic instead. Let’s assume these guys get through to us. What do we have?”

Daring walked over to the duffel bag and searched it. She made a face that suggested a rotten stench, or an unpleasant reality. “Besides your Grendel and the 120 rounds you got? We’ve got my Majestic, 24 rounds of .50 Compact, another 6 loaded, a pair of M17 frags, and a few days of crappy MREs. We’re not much use unless they have ammo to spare.”

“Then let’s just hope they get here without using a lot of ammo.”

***

Psycho sprayed his Mk 60 into a horde of zombies. He’d almost been gored by a few slashers earlier, but he’d jumped to higher ground and had begun firing into the group, mowing them down in seconds.

“Twenty-two rounds, eighteen kills. Not too bad.”

He resumed trying to find a fire escape to the apartment complex, and eventually decided he’d have to go inside. He didn’t like doing that, getting close to the infected, but he didn’t have a choice. He switched to his SCARAB and readied the underslung shotgun.

He needed it. When he opened the door to the lobby, he found several brawlers ready to engage him. The first took two shells to fell, the first tearing out its intestines, and the second blowing away its head. The second got two shells as well; it charged at him and he sidestepped it, following by putting two shells into its back. With that, his underslung shotgun was empty.

He began firing bursts into the remaining brawler, each one weakening it as it sprayed 4mm sabot rounds in a drum roll of death. Finally, after emptying the magazine, Psycho drew his Majestic and fired all six shots into the brute, finally dropping it.

That concluded the battle, and Psycho reloaded his weapons. First he inserted a new cylinder into his Majestic, then he reloaded his SCARAB, and finally he put four shells into his underslung shotgun. He began to advance up the stairs, and he contacted the Doctor for the second time.

“Doc, I’m at the stairs. What floor are you on? Room number?”

“Eighth floor, room 842. How exactly do you plan on getting me out?”

“I thought I’d shoot my way out, mix things up a bit.”

“Uhhhhh. Okay, better idea. There’s a clothesline leading to an adjacent, albeit lower roof, accessible from room 808. If we can get into that wanker’s room, we can zipline out of here. All we need is something to hold onto it with.”

Psycho liked this pony’s thinking. “I can take care of that. How much can that line hold?”

“It’s rated for half a ton, why?”

“Between my Nanosuit and my gear, I might weigh a bit more than a normal person.”

“Wait, you have a working Nanosuit?”

“Talk to you soon, doc.”

“Wait! I have to know how th-”

Psycho disconnected and began to climb the staircases.

***

Alcatraz ran across rooftops, using the enhanced abilities his Nanosuit 2 gave him to jump between them with ease. It was quite fun actually, or at least for him it was. He would sprint across a building, jump into a window on an adjacent building, and run to the roof of that building as he continued his journey.

By doing this, he was able to stay off of the streets, which seemed to be swarming with zombies. Mostly he had to worry about the pegasus scouts and griffon elites knocking him out of the air. For the most part, he was able to dispatch them with a single headshot from his Grendel before and after his jumps.

Picking off zombies from rooftops became easy and enjoyable, as they ran to feast on their dead brethren and got themselves into tighter groups. The tighter groups would often die two at a time from a single bullet, or at least one kill and one disable. The 6.8mm tungsten carbide rounds tore through flesh and bone with equal ease, and often penetrated through multiple zombies, although usually only the first target would die.

Eventually, Alcatraz came to within a block of the apartment complex where Gilda Grimwing and Daring Do were located. It got rather complicated there. Zombies swarmed around the entrance, which was blocked off by rubble from the holes in the side above it. The bottom four floors were completely barricaded off by window, precluding jumping through them to enter the building. Throwing C4 and detonating it to open a hole didn’t seem like the best idea either.

Alcatraz contacted Daring by radio.

“Lemme guess, you’re lost?”

“No, I need a way into your building. The entrance is swarming with zombies and the lower windows are all blocked off. I can’t find a way to get in from the south side. Any suggestions?”

“You can’t fly, can you?”

“I didn’t train to be a pilot.”

“Nothing here, sorry. I guess you’re on your own.”

“Shit. Okay, it won’t be the first time.” Alcatraz let out a sigh.

What this suit really needs is a grappling hook. If I had one of those, I could get around really fucking easy. The N2 is pretty fucking great, but I can’t do shit to get across chasms. With a grappling hook I’d be able to get past anything. Maybe if the suit could shoot sticky nano-fibers, or crawl on walls. Fuck it, I need spider powers. I guess I’ll have to scale the walls the hard way.

“I got an idea. It’s risky, but it’s all I’ve got. Neither me or Gilda are in any shape to fly out into the open and carry you; we’re as grounded as you are. Try to-”

“Climb the walls? Yeah, I just figured it’d come down to that. I know you’re on the sixth floor, but I don’t know what room.”

“688. East side of the building.”

“Got it, I’ll stay on the line.” Alcatraz scanned the horizon for any scouts or elites, and found none. With the airspace secure, he holstered his Grendel and moved back for a running start. “Okay, I’m making the jump.” He began to sprint forward, and power jumped as he reached the edge.

“What? There’s no way you could make a jump from any nearby building!” She shouted while Alcatraz was in midair. He landed as she ended the sentence. His hands dug into the thick plywood boards that covered the window, and he planted his feet firmly on the windowsill.

“I just did. Now I’ve gotta get two floors up and make it to another side of the building.”

“Yeah, about that…”

Alcatraz sighed yet again. “Let me guess. The whole east side is blocked by some hazard?”

“Yeah. It’s turned into a nesting area for scouts. I think you’ll have to enter on the fifth or sixth floor on your side.”

“Well, at least that saves me the problem of trying to figure out a way to pass a corner.” Alcatraz looked up and saw a fire escape he could reach. “Hold on, I think I just found a shortcut.”

He leapt up to grab the bottom step of the fire escape, and gripped it as tight as he could. The metal he held onto seemed sturdy enough to hold him. At least, it did until the stairs bent under his weight.

“God dammit.” He pulled himself up and began to climb the corroded metal as fast as he could. He was fast enough to make it to the top before the metal fell to the ground. He kicked off the stairs and grabbed the ledge.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, just my makeshift ladder falling to the ground and almost taking me with it. No biggie.” He grunted as he pulled himself up and grabbed the inside of a window to pull himself even further up. He looked inside and saw that most of the floor on that level was gone. And so was the floor below it, and the one below that. That meant that even inside the building he was looking at a three-story drop.

“Not sure if I should go inside, or stay out here.” An ear-raping shriek gave him his answer. “Inside it is.” He shimmied inside and drew his M12, screwing on a suppressor and activating the laser sight. He pointed it down the hall, and then downwards so that the laser would illuminate the ledge he shuffled on.

“Just so you know, the floors below us are pretty much collapsed. You won’t have much to walk on.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Alcatraz noted sarcastically. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He terminated the connection

He continued his slow pace until he reached the stairs. Which just happened to be out, leaving the side rails as the only way for him to proceed upwards. So he holstered his pistol and jumped sideways, grabbing onto the bar. He shuffled his hands across the pipe, slowly advancing upwards.

When he reached the top of that bar, he kicked off of the wall, sending him flying across the staircase to the opposite bar. He shimmied up that one, and eventually came to the sixth floor, which didn’t have any holes in the floor.

Alcatraz pulled himself up and planted his boots on the floor, drawing his M12 and cloaking. He slowly proceeded down the hallways, searching for room 688, and found it.

Unfortunately, a pair of scouts had found it first, and were clawing at the door. They smashed it down by the time Alcatraz brought his pistol to bear. He shot the first in the head, splattering its brains over its partner’s face. The second one stumbled but didn’t enter the room.

Alcatraz, still cloaked, holstered his pistol and pinned the exposed pegasus against the wall near the door, out of sight of the occupants. He lifted its head, exposing its neck, and stabbed it in the throat with his knife, causing his cloak to briefly flash.

He reloaded his pistol, switched to his gray Grendel, and strolled in casually, stepping over the broken furniture that had barricaded them in. He decloaked and looked at the mare and griffon in front of him. They were both pointing their guns at him. In response, he activated his suit’s armor mode, spreading a faint blue glow across the nanoweave.

“Hey, you wanna waste ammo, be my guest. Otherwise, you simmer the fuck down, got it?”

Reluctantly, the two of them lowered their weapons.

“Where’re the Doctor and your partner?” Gilda asked. Her talons still gripped her Grendel tightly, showing clear distrust.

“Psycho’s getting the Doc as we speak. We split up before we entered the city, and both headed for separate objectives. I came for you two, and he went for the Doc. Now, how do you propose we get out of here?”

“You didn’t have a plan for that?” Daring Do looked at him harshly.

“Fine. Do you have a rope?”

“No…” Daring looked unsure.

“Yeah, we do. We were gonna use it to scale the inside of the Obelisk. I don’t know if you’re game for a treasure hunt, but we need this rope to make it down and back up, an eighty-hoof wall like the one we need to get down now.”
“How long is the rope?”

“A hundred-twenty, why?”

“I can make that shot. We tie it to something in here, climb down, and I shoot the rope at the point where it caresses the windowsill. You recover the rope, we meet up with Psycho and the Doc, and we go find that Obelisk. Sound good?”

“I don’t think you can pull off a shot like that, and I don’t think the two of you can add enough firepower to get us through the temple.”

Alcatraz chuckled. “I’m full of surprises.”

They tied the rope to a sturdy metal bar, hung it out the window, and climbed down it. Daring first with Gilda covering her, then Gilda with Daring and Alcatraz covering her. Alcatraz removed his left hand from his Grendel and grabbed hold of the rope. He slid down, his weapon ready the whole time. Thankfully, he didn’t need it.

Alcatraz contacted Psycho by radio.

“Psycho, I’ve got Daring and Gilda; they’re both alive and well aside from injured wings. How’re things on your end?”

“Brilliant. I jacked a motorcycle and we’re headed to the Obelisk. We’ll camp out in the nearby store until you get here. The Doctor has a trinket he says should open the Obelisk.”

“Good to hear. Out.” He shot the top end of the rope, severing it and sending it down to the ground. After Gilda rolled the rope back up and put it in the duffel bag, Alcatraz looked at Daring. “How far to the Alicorn’s Obelisk?”

“A few blocks north of here, can’t miss it,” Gilda answered.

A waypoint appeared on Alcatraz’ HUD, his suit's AI having detected it during his earlier trek to the apartments.

“Primary Objective: Reach the Obelisk.”

“Follow me.”

After an hour of traveling and avoiding the hordes, they arrived at the Obelisk and met up with Psycho and the Doctor in the nearby store. They had a dungeon to raid.

Raiders of the Lost Heart

“So you’re an archeologist who goes on cool adventures and have books written about you?” Alcatraz summed up.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Daring Do responded.

Indiana Jones rip-off. Well, I guess she’s a real Indy though, and actually doing it counts for something.

The five of them; Alcatraz, Psycho, Daring Do, the Doctor, and Gilda, all sat in a circle inside a gift shop. They’d been conversing as they reviewed what they knew about the inside of the Obelisk, which was worryingly little.

“Okay, so this trinket Doc has…” Alcatraz trailed off, unsure of how to raise an issue that Daring might not even know how to solve.

“What about it?” The Doctor responded.

“Do we even know where to fit it in, or if we have to do something besides put it in a slot?”

“Yes and no.” Daring rubbed the back of her neck. She checked her watch, which looked like a Breitling to Alcatraz, and displayed a worried look. “Buck me. We do know that there’s a certain time frame we have to do it in, and we’re near the end of it. After that we have to wait ‘til six PM tomorrow. We have twenty minutes to open that obelisk or we’re waiting through the zombies’ peak hours.”

“Fuck.” Alcatraz stood up and grabbed his weapons, slinging the Grendel over his back and checking to make sure a shell was chambered in his Jackal. “Okay people, we either open that obelisk in the next twenty minutes or we wait through the zombie work day.”

When he put it that way, there didn’t seem to be much of a choice. Every one of them grabbed what they had and got ready to move.

“When I open this door, run like hell,” Alcatraz said.

He opened the door, and they all sprinted towards the obelisk. A horde of zombies was waiting for them. Among them were a bull and two elites.

Psycho sprayed his Mk 60 into the horde, thinning the weaker members at a rapid pace. Each bullet left a gaping wound as it passed through a target, splattering blood and organs everywhere.

Gilda and Daring Do began to fire at the elites in the air, keeping them from getting into a position to strike. One of them took a .50 Compact round through the skull and dropped. The duo mistook it for a dive, and continued shooting it.

The other elite swooped down and hit Alcatraz, knocking him to his back. The zombified griffon sprayed spittle all over his visor and knocked his shotgun away. It began to claw at him, and he activated his suit’s armor mode, a soft glow enveloping his muscles.

Alcatraz readied to counterattack. “You’re-” He wound back his left arm for a punch. “One-” A crushing blow to its ribcage. “Ugly-” A right hook to its face shattered its decaying beak. “Motherfucker!” He headbutted the shrieking beast.

The creature was stunned long enough for Gilda to put two into its head. Alcatraz pushed the corpse off, and got to his feet, grabbing his Jackal just in time to blast the bull that had been hanging back in the face. The single shell only pissed it off, and it charged at Alcatraz.

He power jumped over it, landing behind it. The walking mountain of muscle, which had charged into the store the group had fled from, was chased by a pair of frag grenades. Each explosion filled the monster with shrapnel and pounded it with the pressure waves and heat of explosions.

“Hit that fucker!” Alcatraz shouted

“A little busy with this horde!” Psycho shouted back over the roar of his machinegun.

A scan with his tactical visor showed that the bull was still alive and far from death. An idea clicked in the ex-Marine’s head. He scanned the building, which looked ready to collapse. A single brick of C4 detonated inside would cause it to collapse on top of it.

Alcatraz pulled a satchel from his hip and threw it like a Frisbee. It soared into the building and landed at the target’s feet. He pulled out the detonator and squeezed it, causing the charge to detonate. The store was filled with thunder and fire, and the walls blew outwards. The roof fell onto the sole occupant, crushing it under several tons of rubble after the explosion had sent it upwards and impacted its skull on the ceiling.

“I knew C4 was a crowd pleaser, but that really brought the house down,” He quipped.

He turned to fire a few parting shots into what was left of the horde, the tight spread of his weapon’s choke ensuring that he did maximum damage. The steel shot tore through the remainders as his teammates reloaded.

After a mad few minutes, all that stood was the two humans, two ponies, and a single griffon. There were no more projectiles or screeches in the air, only dust and smoke. The three non-nanosuited people, whose biological functions were without assistance, panted like dogs.

“Come on. More of ‘em are probably coming, and I’d like to disappoint them,” Alcatraz told them.

The group began to move towards the obelisk with all due haste. It took a few minutes to reach it.

“Twelve minutes left,” Daring Do stated.

The team searched the obelisk for a slot of some sort, but found none. Psycho had an idea and used his visor to search near the top of the pillar. He found the slot they needed.

“Found it!” He shouted. “It’s at the top, north side.”

“That’s a problem,” Gilda mused. She closed her eyes for a moment, opening them again as a look of determination spread across her face. She spread her wings, ignoring the pain from a prior injury. Daring had taken a lighter wound to one of her wings, but Gilda had the legendary pain tolerance of griffons to call upon. “Hand me the thingy.”

“You sure, Gilda? Your wing-” The Doctor began

“I know my wing is fucked up Doc, but I’m the only one who can do this. The artifact, now.”

Reluctantly the Doctor tossed it to her, and she caught it in her talons. She began to groan as she flapped her wings, and she gained altitude. She needed to get a hundred meters up, which was a nigh-impossible task given her current state.

She did it anyway, ignoring the pain of a thousand nails being driven into her wing. Gilda felt her strength drain, but she kept on, drawing on her will to push forward. After what felt like a thousand eternities, she made it to the top. The griffon pulled the artifact from her vest and slammed it in. She heard stone scrape against stone below her, and fell to the ground.

"Shit!"

Psycho rushed to catch her, and succeeded. The ex-SAS operative managed to grab her and prevent a large splatter of blood on the ground. He set her down gently, and she got to her paws on her own, groaning.

Alcatraz motioned for the rest of them to follow him into the newly created passage. Every one of them readied their weapons and descended into the darkness.

***

“All right. CELL has covered themselves by claiming that the soldiers Alcatraz killed were rogue units, and that the majority of them in Equestria are operating within the law. Even if we could prove otherwise, we can’t exonerate him without CELL files.” Twilight Sparkle explained to her friends.

The Bearers of Harmony were in her library, reviewing what they knew.

“Well, why don’t we just present what we’ve already got?” Rarity inquired.

“All we have is conjecture and some limited circumstantial evidence, and that’ll never stand up in appeals court. We need more.”

“Ooh! Ooh! Pick me!”

“Yes, Pinkie?”

“I met some marines the other day, and they were super-duper cool, and maybe they can help us because they’ve worked with the CIA before, and my Pinkie Sense says that they can do cool stuff unilaterally and get away with it, so maybe they can help us!” Pinkie explained rapidly, with a vocabulary that was both like hers and unlike hers at the same time. But that just made it more like her normal random behavior.

The rest of them just stood there and stared. This was a convenient development, even by Pinkie’s standards. Not unwelcome however.

“Cupcakes are ready!” Spike sang, strolling in wearing a frilly apron. Upon seeing the looks of the mares in the room, he backed out silently and shut the door.

“Um, what’re these fellas’ names?” Applejack asked.

“Redford, Marlowe, Sweetwater and Haggard. Everypony was so happy to see them earlier that they get to appear again!”

***

“Shit! Runrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrun!!”

Alcatraz had set off a booby trap, sending arrows flying from the walls. While he’d long desired to be like Indiana Jones someday, in retrospect that was a foolish wish. Fortunately for the others, he had been bringing up the rear, leaving them with the least amount of distance to cover.

After a few more mishaps, the team came to a large wall engraved with hieroglyphs. The Doctor and Gilda shone lights on it while Alcatraz and Psycho watched the hall. Daring Do began to run a hoof across a line of glyphs, mouthing words to herself all the while.

“So uh, what’s it say?” Alcatraz asked.

“Not entirely sure,” came her less-than-reassuring answer. “Some of the wording is vague. This one means either a ‘guardian hero’ or a ‘curse-bearer’, and this one means that only one can enter. Something about a prophecy and a destined bearer of the Heart.”

Something clicked in Alcatraz’ head. It meant him. He walked forward and felt the indentations of the writing, sliding his left hand across the face of the wall. The fingertips of his gloves moved gently as they passed over each inscription and softly scraped the barrier.

The wall began to move, revealing a faint blue glow on the other side. As the group strode forwards, they hit it as though it were a solid object. All of them were stayed by it, except Alcatraz.

Psycho tapped the side of his helmet to indicate his radio, and Alcatraz nodded before heading into a door that opened for him. It shut behind him.

Murals lined the walls, depicting a humanoid medieval knight slaying all manner of beasts. His armor was mainly chainmail, with plating on a few areas. His sword was made of shimmering steel, with an ebony grip, and a platinum pommel and guard.

Assuming the murals were life-size, which they seemed to be given that the knight was as big as Alcatraz, the sword was a decent size. Its blade was four feet long.

As for the armor the knight wore, while the chainmail was gray, the plates were polished steel, creating a contrast. The helmet was an old armet type, which matched the plating. Still, it was odd in that it used the chainmail to cover most of the body, which was more common as the main part of armor during the Crusades, yet it had 15th century boots, plating and headgear.

The helmet bore a red stripe across the viewing aperture, and small yellow stripes on the cheeks.

The whole thing struck Alcatraz as anomalous. Why even bother wearing chainmail? Contrary to popular belief, later versions of medieval armor allowed more flexibility than chainmail by virtue of their articulation, although they still generally weighed more. Perhaps it was meant to be a balance between speed and protection.

As he walked further down, a mural depicted the knight fighting a troll or ogre of some sort. The next image was of a sword shattering on his armor. His armor took on a faint blue hue for that mural, which made it all clear to him.

Jesus, that’s supposed to be me!

He reached the end of the tunnel and came to a large chamber populated with statues on either side. Alcatraz unconsciously tightened his grip on his Jackal, the aggressive poses of the decorations filling him with unease.

“You still there, mate?” Psycho inquired over the radio.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Out.”

Alcatraz felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned around only to receive a punch in the face. He was sent careening into a wall, smashing several bricks in. The half-dozen statues that had populated the room were striding towards him.

One was a wingless, quadrupedal dragon hewn from stone, with a spiked tail and back, and a fierce set of glowing white eyes that left trails as it moved. Another was a hulking bipedal figure with four arms and a literally chiseled physique, with no head to speak of. It held onto the dragon with a chain in one of its hands.

A third was a gallant silver pegasus, shaped and detailed in such a manner that it looked like a sculpture of a full-sized horse from Earth, with a blue flaming mane and tail, and glowing red eyes. Atop it rode the knight from the murals, wielding that same majestic sword that had been featured in them.

Fifth was a massive blob, which seemed to be shaping itself into the form of a Ceph Devastator, and fired its weapons into the ceiling to test its transformation.

Last of all was a life-size bronze statue of a unicorn stallion, surrounded by a silvery aura of magic. It motioned with its foreleg for the approaching entities to stop, looking at them sternly. It then looked at Alcatraz with a confident smile.

“Forgive me for my lack of subtlety in this… Display. I’d like you to do me a favor, Lieutenant. When you retrieve the Alicorn’s Heart, I need you to give it to me, or rather this statue I’m using as an avatar. Do that and I can make you a very happy man.” The voice was familiar, but the distortion kept him from identifying it.

“Who the fuck are you to ask me to give away something that powerful?”

“Oh, you don’t remember me? I’m almost insulted. We met at- Never mind, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I can make your problems go away. How would you like to help me rule the wealthiest nation on Equis? I can make that happen too.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Take all the time you need. We’ll be waiting for you.”

The door on the opposite end of the room opened, surrounded by that same blue field that had blocked his friends earlier. He proceeded through it, and found a short hall. Through that short hall he traveled, contemplating the offer made to him.

The door behind him shut, and the one before him opened. Inside was a bare chamber. The shape was a perfect sphere hewn from polished marble, with a matching pathway to a platform suspended in the center. Upon that platform was a pedestal, upon which floated a large spherical ruby.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Alcatraz,” A smooth female voice echoed from every part of the room. Its accent was British, or the pony equivalent thereof. “I’ve been waiting since he died. What a long three thousand years it’s been.”

Alcatraz looked around, and scanned the entire room with his tactical visor. Nothing came up. Not even a single impurity in the stone that composed the room.

“I am the Alicorn’s Heart. At least, that’s what Tau told me I would be called when he comforted me during my final days. I’d contracted an unknown disease which ravaged my body horribly. Though his powerful magic could delay the effects and numb the pain, it could not stop it as it consumed my flesh in the prime of my youth. He offered a way out and I took it. He transferred my soul to this ruby, and we were able to stay together until he died. There was no such blessing for him, as his soul was sent to Tartarus for his toying with Life and Death.”

“That’s why you were his most prized possession,” Alcatraz thought aloud.

“Correct. And I was sealed here for the one he foresaw would need me the most. As our love grew over a thousand years of unnatural companionship, so did the magical power vested in the avatar I remained in. The power in this form. For four thousand years I’ve been in this gem. Alone for the latter three thousand of those years. Watching helplessly as the world outside went by, waiting for the prophesied hero whom Tau told me would liberate me. And here you are.”

“I never asked to be a hero…”

“Of course you didn’t,” The nameless voice responded, her tone sincere. “Heroes have always been reluctant to usurp the mantles bestowed upon them. Celestia and Luna were reluctant to lead until their parents were killed. Tau initially resented the responsibility, the obligation he felt he had to ponykind. You never asked to be given the suit now part of you, given to you by a dying man who asked that you fulfill his last wish. From death comes new purpose in life.”

“That’s quite insightful.”

“I’ve had millennia to contemplate things. I also know that prophesies can be violated by inaction and greed. Such vices were the downfall of the Princesses’ parents, who were to rule for ten thousand years.”

“‘All that is necessary for evil to prevail is that good men do nothing.’”

“Precisely. I know of the offer made to you minutes ago. The identity of the one who made it I do not know, but he has more power than he should logically possess, almost as much as Equestria’s current regents, and his abilities and intentions are unknown to them as well. Even without me he would be formidable and capable of overthrowing them, but with me…”

Alcatraz nodded. He understood the gravity of the situation. That prophecy he’d heard on his first night on Equis was at least partially true.

“How do I get you out of here? You’re a bit big to fit in my pockets, which don’t even exist in the first place.”

The voice chuckled. “Just grab me and I’ll take care of it. No booby traps, I promise. I can’t leave without you anyway.” Alcatraz reached out and rested his left hand on the top of the gem. The gem glowed faintly for a moment before a red liquid began to creep up onto his hand. It crept up his arm, and the ruby shrank as it progressed. Soon it had engulfed his entire suit, and the ruby was gone. The liquid faded away, absorbed into his armor. A quick visual inspection showed that he appeared no different than before.

“Installing firmware upgrade… Complete. Supplementary AI installed. Current version reverting to semi-silent mode; new AI given priority during speech. Don’t get too crazy, marine, I’m still here.”

“Your architecture isn’t much different from the Heart’s…”

“Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“I’m going to be quiet for a spell. I’m just getting used to being mobile again. And if you get into any fights, just try not to get killed, but I’ll let you focus on winning them.”

Alcatraz strolled from the room, the door opening before him, as well as the door at the end of the short hall. He entered the chamber, his Grendel ready.

“Mind telling me where my ruby is?” The unicorn avatar demanded.

“I decided it’d be funny if I destroyed it for the schadenfreude.”

“You idiot…” The bronze statue turned from him and motioned to the others, cantering away behind the row of animated statues.

“I can handle you.”

“Handle us? You’ll 'handle us'? You know I expected a lot more respect from you.”

The four-armed brute cracked its knuckles, while its dragon gnashed its teeth and began to salivate, which didn’t seem possible for a statue. The knight readied his sword and his steed pawed at the ground.

The pseudo-Ceph whirred its cannon and strode forwards. It must’ve thought things would be easy. It fired an extended burst at the target, who had begun to glow blue. The projectiles merely bounced off of him.

Alcatraz knew how many satchels of C4 it took to kill a Devastator, and he had exactly that number. So he threw two of them and detonated them. The creature fell apart just as a real Devastator would’ve.

He readied his rifle. “Who’s next?”

“Okay, you have some skill. Kill him.”

The remaining four charged at him. The brute and dragon merely charged at him and were easy to dodge while taking pot shots. Each tungsten carbide round knocked a chunk of stone off of the golem or its beast when it hit, but the power was insufficient to do any real damage. However, it hurt them and stunned them each time it hit, and they seemed to feel each other’s pain.

Probably only goes as far as pain. Have to assume the fuckers’ lives aren’t bonded.

While he stood his ground, keeping the two beasts at bay with measured fire, the horse and knight flanked him and came around the rear for a decapitating slash. Alcatraz realized this less than a second before his potential death and turned to block with his rifle, only to have it slashed in half.

The follow-up attack came while Alcatraz was contemplating the loss of his rifle. His suit energy was running low, and that meant his armor mode was about to quit on him. He dropped the chunks of the weapon and moved his left hand to intercept the slice. His armor mode ceased, its last feat being to soften the blade’s impact.

The sword rested on his hand, and he kicked the horseman away. The occupants of the room froze. A few drops of blood trickled down the blade, and from his hand, in both cases falling on the floor. It was his blood.

“You see, he is just a man,” The unicorn said, partly to taunt Alcatraz and partly to encourage his warriors.

During that brief pause, Alcatraz’ suit had recharged fully. He drew his Jackal from his back and ran towards the brute and beast. They charged back. Leaping over the four-armed behemoth, Alcatraz blasted a hole in its neck, revealing a hollow interior.

He primed a frag grenade, one of his last three, and made another leap over the golem. Just as he passed over, the animated object grabbed him by the chest. He kicked back hard enough to send him flying backwards, and threw the grenade into the fresh orifice.

Flames jetted out of the top of the monster, and its arms fell of as it collapsed to the ground. The dragon it had controlled charged at Alcatraz and tried to bite his arm off, only to eat several shells of steel buckshot and fall to the ground.

That left him, the knight, and the steed.

“You know, I heard the Headless Horseman is the only headless horseman. Let’s try and change that, shiny boy.”

As the knight charged at him, Alcatraz activated his armor mode and aimed down the reflex sight on his shotgun. He fired a pair of shots at the horse, knocking it down and sending the sword through the sight. He removed the attachment, which left the iron sights, and slung the Jackal over his back.

He charged at the knight, who was struggling to get out from under the horse atop him, which was apparently unharmed and struggling to get up as well. The sword had clattered to the ground several meters from the knight. Grabbing the sword from the ground without losing momentum, he leapt into the air and fell towards the knight.

The armored figure raised his arms to stop him, only to have them impaled as the blade penetrated both gauntlets and his chestplate, driving the sword into the floor. Upon pulling the seemingly indestructible blade out, the knight fell limp. Alcatraz took the black leather scabbard and placed it on his back, sliding his new sword into it.

“Well done. You managed to defeat three statues and disabled the fourth. That’s almost decent considering that I merely activated a severely weakened, millennia old trap.”

The brass unicorn heated, the resulting molten metal burning through the floor.

The sculpted, fearsome pegasus on the ground was still alive, and looked at him with remorse and regret.

“You get a second chance. Don’t make me regret this.”

Alcatraz lifted the equine up, taking full advantage of the Nanosuit 2’s augmentations to do so. The creature whinnied and nodded thankfully at him. It didn’t change its appearance with its allegiance; still silver, muscular, red-eyed, and possessing a mane and tail made of blue flames. Its saddle was made of black leather, seemingly unharmed by the steel buckshot it had been hit with earlier.

Glad I’m good at horseback riding.

“You need a name. Something ominous but respectable, not too long or short, probably two syllables… Prophet.”

If animated statues of horses could smile, this one was grinning like an idiot.

“I’ve got a way out for you and your friends if you’re interested.”

“I am.”

“Now, I may be free of this place, but I have some control over the residual magic, and there’s a lot of that. I can get you and them to the surface. The surface surface, as in, seeing actual daylight. Exactly where you came in.”

“Aw, sweet. There’s something I’ve wanted to say since I became a Trekkie around 12.”

“I’m not sure what a ‘Trekkie’ is, but go ahead.”

Alcatraz put a hand on Prophet and pointed forwards with his other one.

“Make it so.”

In a flash of red light, they all disappeared, only to rematerialize by the APC.

“What the bloody hell!?” Psycho shouted. “What the fuck was that!?”

“Magic,” Alcatraz said smugly. “Take those three and head back to the warehouse, I’ll meet you there.” He hopped onto Prophet’s back and placed his boots in the stirrups. Prophet knew what his rider wanted and followed the APC.

An hour later, they arrived at the warehouse. The APC took position inside, and Alcatraz tied Prophet to a post inside for the time being. One of the doors in the rear of the vehicle opened and Alcatraz climbed in.

“So, where’s the ruby?” Daring Do asked.

“Hold out your hand, palm open and up.”

“What?” Alcatraz said within the confines of his helmet, not a peep escaping.

“Just bloody do it.”

He held out a palm. Red liquid began to form from his suit and condense into the form of the Alicorn’s Heart. He noticed that there was a sort of cloud inside it, shaped in the silhouette of a unicorn, and retaining that image from all sides.

“Christ…”

“Ancestors…”

“Celestia…”

“The ruby is separate from me now. I have some control over it, but my essence is in this suit now, and by extension inside you. Perhaps you should tell your mates about this situation, just to avoid confusion.”

Alcatraz explained the Alicorn’s Heart as best he could, and the presence of an extremely magical soul inside. A soul that had taken its magic and merged with him.

“Does it…” Daring Do trailed off. “Does she have a name?”

“My name was… Is Ruby Gaze. A bit about my somewhat short history as an actual pony is in order. From the way a lot of stallions and a few mares looked at me when I had a body, I was fairly attractive… Well, now I just sound conceited and shallow for saying that and picking that particular bit of information about myself. Sorry. Pretend I’d just mentioned how I was quite bookish and uncommonly good with magic. And socially awkward, which is, um, quite evident at the moment,” Ruby Gaze answered.

“At least she has a civilized accent,” Psycho joked.

“Okay, I’m gonna patch through to the client,” Alcatraz announced. He took a few seconds to punch in the number and hit the connect button. A screen appeared showing the frequency syncing up.

“Yes?” Grimwing looked just as he did the last time they’d contacted him.

“Sir, we located your daughter and got her out, along with the other survivors of the dig.”

A look of relief overwhelmed the griffon’s face, and he closed his eyes while he whispered a thanks. “I’m in your debt. Let me first say that I’m not going to act overly-protective of Gilda and try to lock her in safely; on the contrary, I’ll support your endeavors to a reasonable extent. I can spare a million or so bits to get you started.”

"Thanks dad."

With that offer, the Legion Noire was formed.

Picking Up the Trail

Alcatraz sat in a posh chair, waiting outside an office. Gilda and Psycho were on a job, and Daring Do and the Doctor were just setting up in the building they’d picked out as their base. Right now he was waiting for a secretary to send him in, so he could meet with a client Mr. Grimwing had set him up with; a young wealthy weapons wizard named “Thermal Spark”.

He’d recently bought some clothes, nothing expensive or flashy, just functional and a bit stylish. He wore black cargo pants, a medium gray t-shirt, and a black trenchcoat, as well as gray coverings that fit to form around his boots and make them less conspicuous. While it was a bit clichéd as far as styles went, it still looked good in his opinion, and it was less conspicuous than if he wore nothing but his anatomically correct Nanosuit 2. Plus, it let him carry more ammunition in the pockets and conceal more weapons.

His helmet, which had retracted many of its parts to form a somewhat flat football shape for easy carrying and quick deployment if necessary, was attached to his hip. Passing the time, he smoked a cigarette. Alcatraz had never smoked often, never gotten addicted, just had an occasional drag. Of course, with the Nanosuit 2 being part of him now, he didn’t have to worry about addiction, or lung problems, or even cancer; the N2’s biowarfare suite was just as effective at countering ailments as it was at creating or altering them.

He had allowed his beard to grow back, although at this point it was merely stubble, and his thick black-brown hair remained combed back into a smooth wave that rested a mere inch above his scalp. His blue eyes calmly scanned the room.

“So,” Ruby Gaze began, her words in his ears despite his helmet being removed. “What do you suppose this bloke will have for us? I’m hoping it’s something that isn’t too objectionable.”

“Yeah,” Alcatraz whispered. “If this guy has us doing kidnappings to edge out his rivals, I’ll have to spike his drink and dump him outside the Afterlife club.”

“That bar you and the others went to to celebrate getting out of the Undercity? I think you should save that for somepony who really deserves it, even by the standards of this city.”

“True. Anyways, we need money and reputation. That complex we bought cost us 800,000 bits.”

“I’m not entirely sure it was worth it. I mean, that was 80 bloody percent of our funding, and you blew it all on a half-empty hexagonal structure next to the forests. Bloody stupid choice if you ask me.”

Alcatraz smiled. “Have some faith. The hex-plant design is modular, the courtyard provides a good landing pad and training area. It’s got lots of space, several levels of underground passages and chambers. The building itself was designed to resist explosions in case of gang wars on the doorstep, and it’s easy to defend. That base can do whatever we need it to. All we need is the manpower… Horsepower… Whatever.”

“Mr. Spark will see you now.” The secretary, a spectacled orange pegasus stallion with a black mane motioned him to head on in. Alcatraz got up from his seat and patted his stored helmet. He strolled into the client’s office, and the doors shut behind him. The room reminded him of Hargreave’s sanctuary, with hundreds of books lining the walls and display cases everywhere.

At the end of the room, a single unicorn male sat behind a desk, his left forehoof supporting his chin as he used a pen to type on his keyboard. The aura surrounding the pen was neon red.

He was a medium blue-gray, with a black mane spiked backwards in the popular style and streaked with some blue. His irises were a vivid vermilion, and a reflection on the glass behind him revealed his cutie mark to be an object of some sort, with a scarlet starburst behind it. He wore a crisp white button-down shirt and an unbuttoned black blazer, but no tie.

“Ah, Lieutenant. Sorry to keep you waiting, I was returning a marefriend’s email.” He didn’t look up at first, but he grinned mischievously when he did, lifting his head from his hoof. His voice was unaccented as far as Alcatraz could tell, although he could only hear a Canadian accent if they said “tomorrow”, or had a heavier accent. His voice was also a bit scratchy, but not dry.

“I heard about your rescue of my associate’s daughter; impressive. I managed to hack myself a copy of your military dossier, and given your unique talents and abilities, I think you’d be suited to help me with a problem I have. Take a seat.”

A soft chair with a breathable fabric emerged from the floor, and after a moment’s hesitation he obliged his host. Alcatraz shifted around some before settling back and putting his arms on the side rests. “How can I help, Mr. Spark?”

“As you probably know, I’m a weapons designer. Small arms, vehicles, aircraft, armor, seagoing surface and submersible vessels, missiles, electronics, etcetera. Recently I personally designed a new version of a popular product, one with civilian as well as government and military uses.”

“Alright, hit me. What is it?”

Thermal Spark leaned forwards. “An android. Not a metal automaton, but one with all the features of a real pony. Adjustable dimensions, mane, firmness of the artificial flesh, appearance. They have to be purchased in one gender-chassis or the other. The best part is that it has self-updating hardware; if a new device is created that’s included in newer production models, an older model can literally alter its own hardware to match the new models, although only to an extent. The other limits are authorization codes, and some models having a faster update speed and superior upgrade capacity. They can feel pain, touch, smell, and have emotions if the owner wishes. They’re artificial ponies, with most of the benefits that entails being real, and some that come with being a machine.”

“That sounds dangerous. You read sci-fi? Got Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics put in? Because a chameleon killing machine is dangerous, even if it’s as physically vulnerable as real ponies.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve literally created hundreds of contingencies. And that isn’t the problem. The models I’ve released previously had physical limits that couldn’t be exceeded, and they were all earth ponies. I recently created a third-generation prototype…”

“Has it gone rogue?” Alcatraz’ left hand clenched the chair’s armrest.

Thermal Spark shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“What happened to it?”

“It was being transported here from a factory in eastern Cauldron, but the convoy was attacked en route. Only a few survivors, and no consistent descriptions of the attackers.”

“Damn.”

“Now, this model is the first that emulates a race other than earth ponies; it’s a unicorn mare chassis. It has a proprietary ‘Starburst’ thaumatic generator, allowing it to create its own magic like a normal unicorn. It can house 77 terabytes of data, with the capacity to store a sapient intelligence not originating from within. It can quite literally store a pony’s soul, allowing that soul to manipulate it. However, that feature is only in this prototype, and it requires a unicorn mare’s soul to operate. But the magical generator is supplemented by the soul’s magic, meaning that if a unicorn with the same thaumatic capacity as the generator took control, the power output is doubled. Add in a more powerful soul, and it's that soul's magic plus the chassis' magic.”

“So, any other features?”

“Yes, in addition to being able to pass for a real pony, it also, um, has… Realistic innards.”

“What, like blood?”

“No, those were on the first models. And not internal organs either. At least not most of them…” Spark looked embarrassed, and rubbed the back of his head.

Alcatraz broke into laughter, almost falling onto the floor. “You gave them the ability to piss and shit if they wanted to?”

“Um, not just that… And it’s on all the models in existence, not just this prototype.”

“You made it capable of sex in pretty much every way a normal pony could?”

“Yes…” Spark muttered. “I was bored when I designed the first models, and I put in what was exactly like the real thing, and then I put in some other features, like tightness and moisture modulators, the ability for both genders to ej-”

Once again, Alcatraz cracked up, but he fell on the floor this time, rolling around and filling the chamber with his mirth. Once again, he straightened out and returned to his chair.

“Look, these things were designed to do more than just things real ponies couldn’t do, or didn’t want to do, or when they were cheaper to use, like undercover work, bomb disposal, wetwork, increasing horsepower in military units. Sapience was a feature that could be toggled on or off. They were designed to be companions as well; friends, business partners, lovers. Whatever need the customer had, they were supposed to fill it.”

“Okay, okay. So it’s supposed to be able to think and feel like the real thing, right? How can I tell it apart from the real deal? Weight? A scan? Something that’s obvious in the right situation?”

“No. Nothing easy like that. Well, it would know on at least a semi-conscious level that it was not like the real thing, so you could possibly stimulate a realization. It also has several contingencies, small giveaways initiated by an unauthorized activation, same ones as all models. It won’t have a fitting accent for its ‘life story’; it could have a Manehattan accent but claim to be from a small rural village, or even have fluctuating voices and accents, which is one of the default giveaways for all models.”

“Huh.”

“Well, that’s one of the fail-safes that could initiated by an unauthorized activation. Another is a two-tone mane. Then they also have finicky tastes, both in cuisine and otherwise. Somewhat unbothered by heat, cold, humidity, dryness. Fond of water in general. Can seem inebriated at times, have unfitting cutie marks, tend to congregate together with other unauthorized units without realizing it. They can consume large amounts of alcohol before ‘passing out’ to maintain cover as a living being, which is a function of all units that’s designed to appeal to law enforcement or investigative use. They can be overly protective of foals, and have a tendency to prefer public service jobs like teaching or government.”

“Got it.” Alcatraz was recording this whole conversation for convenience’s sake. It was easier than hiring someone to write everything down. “Why can’t you just track them by implanting chips, or tracking firmware downloads?”

“Because a glitch I’ve been unable to fix despite my best efforts prevents effective tracking. They can be tracked to a ten-mile radius, but there’s nothing saying they’re in the center when they’re scanned. And considering that these androids are so commonly used, even that’s mostly useless. Even worse considering that over ten thousand out of the hundreds of thousands produced are unauthorized activations.”

“Okay. You want me to find the android, bring it back, and find out whodunit?”

“Exactly.”

“Got any leads?”

Spark nodded. “A rival firm is interested on getting into the market for androids. I have a monopoly, and I keep prices low to prevent others from making a profit off of the market if they try to wedge in; they have to spend lots of money to advertise an inferior product for a higher price, which is a suicidal business move. Now, I have a mole inside their firm, a guy who works security, and I can set him up to meet you and give us more info. I can’t send anypony of mine, because they’re watching our spooks’ every move. His chosen alias is ‘Rabbit’.”

“So you want me, a man not technically affiliated with you company, to hit up a mole for info and go from there? What if he’s a dead end?”

“I’ve got one other lead. A buddy of mine can put you in touch with a pony who fences high-end tech and goes by the name of ‘Toolkit’. Squeeze him and find me that prototype.”

A smart phone levitated into his hand, with a trio of numbers already on it; Spark’s, the mole’s, and Spark’s associate’s. It also had notes about the case stored. Alcatraz slipped it into his trenchcoat’s pocket.

“Anything else?”

Spark sighed. “Yeah. Somepony put a bounty on your head. Fortunately, it only describes your suit, your eye color, and has a picture of your helmet. With that getup on and no helmet, you should be less recognizable.” The stallion tossed him a pair of angular sunglasses.

Alcatraz put on the shades, which fit perfectly. “Sick shades, dig the angles. Hey, uh, how big is the bounty on my head?”

“I don’t think that really matters,” Ruby whispered into his ears via the nanomachines inside. Said nanomachines had been introduced to repair his eardrums when he’d first been given his Nanosuit 2 months ago. They could theoretically work like an earpiece radio, and considering it was nanomachines and CryFibril artificial muscle linked to his suit that had repaired his vocal cords, the capacity for a matching throat microphone was already there as well.

“About fifty thousand bits.”

“What? I should be worth way more than that! At least half a million!”

“Egotistical much?”

Thermal chuckled. “Given what I already know about you, I’d have to agree. I have some contacts who are working through discreet channels to get rid of that bounty, but it’ll take a while. And the whole thing stinks, too.”

“How so?”

Thermal Spark let loose a half-grunt, half-sigh, and rubbed his jaw. “Well, the degenerate behind the bounty is a local mob boss, and he normally supports the kind of divisiveness that a new faction, like yours, would breed in one of his rivals’ territories. All he knows about you is that you’re a new kid on the block and a human. I think somepony’s using him as a proxy to try and get to you.”

Alcatraz stood up. “Obviously someone who doesn’t want to be associated with me. Despite the pariah status I gained after I was framed for the embassy massacre, I’m not surprised they didn’t make the offer themselves. I doubt anyone would be impressed by a hit put out on an alleged terrorist; they’d probably just consider it a publicity stunt. And I think any state putting boots on the ground would polarize Cauldron and backfire horribly, even if it was only publicized after the extraction; I remember the consensus in Pakistan on the bin Laden raid was extremely negative immediately afterwards.”

“Well that doesn’t leave many,” Spark noted sarcastically.

“Yeah, just the world.”

***

“How’d you get all that stuff out? Won’t they look for it? And you?” Twilight Sparkle was more than a bit concerned about the weaponry their new friends had stolen, and them deserting. And them being in her home, considering all that.

“Nah, I falsified the equipment reports. And I listed us as part of a huntin’ party in that forest that died, so they won’t miss us.”

“Nice work on that, Sweets.” Sergeant Redford nodded approvingly.

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe ya shoulda falsified us some more fuckin’ explosives! All I got is a JAW, an L-TAG, ten frag grenades and a dozen satchels of C4.”

“Haggard, you’ve got more explosives than the rest of us combined! I’ve got five frags, Sarge’s got five frags, Marlowe’s got five frags, four satchels, and six grenades for his underslung launcher. We can take on a half-dozen armored vehicles and a tank!”

“So, what’s the plan?” Marlowe asked, ignoring his friends’ usual bickering.

“We’re going to the Everfree Forest. There’s a CELL facility, and an old coltfriend of mine know a few ponies working there. We might not be able to find the evidence we need, but we can find at least part of an explanation for how they got to this planet in the first place. And we can definitely find something to help our endgame there.”

“Okay, but we’re gonna have to move by night, unless you’ve got a cloaking spell or some shit to get us to the forest undetected,” Redford responded. “How many of your friends are we bringing?”

“Me, Fluttershy and Applejack. Fluttershy can help us with indigenous fauna --animals—and Applejack can carry extra equipment, not to mention she’s apparently a good shot.”

“Alright then, we move at 2100 hours. I think y’all should get some clothes that’ll subdue your colors, since purple, orange and yellow stand out a lot.”

“Will do.”

***

“The Mile High Club, huh? Haven’t been there since I was thirteen.”

“What? You’ve only been in Cauldron for a few days, not decades.”

“Different Mile High Club. I was part of the SAS, trying to rescue VIPs from an airplane on Veteran difficulty. Eventually I decided to forget about it and play something else instead.”

Alcatraz walked to the elevator in the shimmering skyscraper’s lobby. His objective was still displayed to him, courtesy of the N2 streaming data directly to his visual cortex. While he lacked some of his abilities without the helmet on, he still had many parts of his HUD still displayed to him. Many of his suit modules related to awareness would be useless however.

Right now, in addition to the gray shirt, black pants, shades, gray boot covers and black trenchcoat, his helmet was stored in a folded state inside his coat, and he was packing heat. He had an M12 Nova with a suppressor and laser sight, a few frag grenades and C4 satchels, and an AY69 machinepistol with a reflex sight and extended 45-round magazines. And last but not least, he still had his trusty knife, which he’d killed so many CELL and Ceph with.

Armor mode would still work, though without the helmet it wouldn’t protect his head, and his cloaking would function as well, albeit with increased energy drain due to the clothing and lack of his helmet. His augmented strength was unaffected, and some of his miscellaneous abilities, such as air stomping, were still available. The suit modules that increased energy efficiency had become completely ingrained with the suit, so he wouldn’t need to worry about those.

After a brief wait, the elevator in front of him opened, allowing several ponies and other beings to stream out. A few humans were among them, arousing Alcatraz’ suspicion. With several others following, he entered the elevator and pushed the button marked “56”. Others pressed their own buttons, and the compartment began its ascent, stopping several times along the way.

After about ten minutes, he arrived at the Mile High Club and disembarked. On his way to the building, he’d had his suit’s integrated AI, SECOND, create that integrated phone/radio function he’d thought of a few hours earlier. So he used his N2 to contact his informant. He held the index finger of his left hand to his left ear, isolating the sound from the electronic beats of the club. A click signaled his contact had picked up.

“Hello?” A male voice with a noticeable Australian accent answered. He could hear the music of the club coming through, so he must’ve been nearby.

“Am I speaking to Rabbit?” Alcatraz asked. He changed his voice to sound dryer and raspier like a smoker’s, not by the N2’s help, but rather because of an innate ability to mimic and create voices and accents. He was imitating a fictional character who had, like him, been given technologically enhanced abilities while he was unconscious, but he couldn’t remember much else about him otherwise.

“Who wants to know?”

“A certain pony from Spark Industries sent me. Call me… Stone. Victor Stone.”

“Okay. I’m alone in a window seat, on the second floor of the club. Tell me if you need help.”

He removed his finger from his ear and walked around the crowd on the dance floor, which was extremely diverse, featuring ponies, minotaurs, griffons, zebras, and even a few humans. A few times, a dancer would bump into him, but each time they would ignore it. It took two minutes to navigate the mob of dancing patrons.

His finger touched his ear again. “Okay, not there yet. Had some trouble trying to get around the dancers. Gimme another minute or two.”

“Gotcha.”

He proceeded up the stairs, and as he did so he noticed that the majority of the exterior walls were windows. A quick knock revealed that they were bullet-resistant glass. Through the windows, he could see the skyscrapers of this district of Cauldron, and the slums to the south.

Alcatraz swept his vision over the window seats until he found his informant. A human on a phone sat alone at a window seat.

“I think I see you. I’m coming to sit down.”

So he did, slipping into the booth on the opposite side of the table. It sounded like fake leather, but good fake leather.

“So, Cyborg… Do you prefer ‘Cy’?” ‘Rabbit’ began. He had short, light brown hair, green eyes, and a tan. He looked plenty Australian to Alcatraz.

“You got the reference, huh?” Alcatraz had picked that alias as a tongue-in-cheek reference to the former identity of the hero Cyborg from the DC comic books.

“What can I say? I like comics.” Rabbit seemed fairly relaxed so far. “But you don’t look black, like the real Cyborg, just another white guy. Doesn’t matter, I reckon it’s just an alias.”

“Before I get to business, I’ve got a question. Why am I seeing so many humans here?”

“Well, a lot of governments found Ceph portals, and they all seemed to be tuned to this particular planet. So ever since Lingshan, three years ago, people from everywhere have been migrating to this planet. I wager that Marine Expeditionary Force didn’t have the need-to-know on that. I’d think in the last three years, about twelve million humans have come to this planet, and this city seems to have the highest concentration of anywhere on Equis. I reckon Equestria’s tight borders and introverted nature are the reason they never heard of humans before.”

“Thanks. Now to business. Mr. Spark said you could get me some information. He believes your employers, Mallet Industries, stole a design from him. Do you know anything that could help?”

“A few of my men were absent on the same day. It was a while ago… September 4th.”

“That’s the day of the convoy raid,” Alcatraz stated aloud.

“Anyone ever tell you that you sound like Adam Jensen?”

He chuckled a bit. “I forgot who I was imitating. I’m disguising my voice for this meeting, partly out of paranoia and partly because I like doing voices.”

“The blokes who got loaned that day were all killed within the week, so I figured they’d just pissed off some mob. But if they were part of a raid, then it’s a bloody cover-up. I don’t know what else I can tell you, Cy.”

Alcatraz leaned forward. “The design I mentioned was a prototype for a unicorn mare android. Very advanced. Do you know anything that could help me? Maybe it’s been activated?”

“No. Give me your number, and I’ll call if I find anything new.”

Alcatraz took out his phone and wrote down the number on a napkin. “Here.”

The two of them went their separate ways, leaving the club. Back on the streets, he called Thermal Spark up with his suit.

“Mr. Spark, Rabbit says that some of his men were absent on the day your transport convoy was raided. They all got whacked within the week though. Either they were working to supervise the rest of the muscle on the op for Mallet Industries, or they went freelance.”

“Check with Toolkit. He’d be the one to move any tech if they were freelancing, and he’ll have some leads if it was Joustin Mallet’s cronies. Have an alias you’re using?”

“Yeah. Victor Stone.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him to expect you.”

“Thanks.”

Toolkit was located in the warehouse district of Cauldron, which necessitated Alcatraz travelling through the fairly clean streets of the upscale district he was in now, and into the fields of warehouses that buffered the rich from the poor. He neared his destination at long last, as the ill-defined border between the slums and the warehouses approached.

“I remember this part of Cauldron used to be one of the most beautiful. Where artists from the world over would come and paint, sculpt, sing. This city has fallen. I don’t suppose many others know what it’s like to see a thriving city fall. A city they loved.”

“I’m sad to say I do. I fought in the greatest city on Earth as disease and disaster ravaged it, trying to stop an alien threat and survive the vendettas of CELL. Walking by the scattered remains of the most well-known statue, through shelters full of plague victims, and treading through sewers. Speaking of disease…”

“What?”

“You said a plague almost killed you before Tau put you in the Heart. If the Ceph portals led here, and they had an existing presence when I came here, then they could be waiting for an opportunity. It took them three years to go from awakening at Lingshan to revealing themselves in NYC. And they revealed themselves shortly after releasing a plague. I have to ask, what were the symptoms of your sickness?”

“The Spore, as we called it, wasn’t contagious. It began to spread in wet areas of the body; mouth, eyes, and open wounds. From there fungal growths appeared, growing from the origin points outward. They gradually constricted airways and liquefied flesh painfully. I don’t really want to talk about it.” Even without a body, it was clear Ruby would’ve winced when she said that.

“So the Manhattan Virus wasn’t tailor-made for humans. There must be a base strain other mutations are developed from.” He slowed and stopped. “We’re here.”

Alcatraz began to climb the stairs, and idly scratched at his stubble. The door to Tool’s lair was a large steel one. After rapping the object thrice, he determined the thickness to be between an inch and an inch-and-a-half.

I can punch through that. I’ve beat Devastators to death before, I can take some weak-ass door.

A peephole slid open.

“You are Stone?” It was a voice with a Russian accent.

“Yeah.” Alcatraz continued using his dry Jensen voice for conversing with those he didn’t know. “Toolkit?”

“Answer one question for me.” The golden eyes on the other side of the slit narrowed. “What is airspeed velocity of unladen swallow?”

“What do you mean? African or European swallow?”

“Close enough.” The peephole slid shut. The sounds of locks turning and clicking came through the door, continuing for several seconds before ceasing. It opened to reveal a red unicorn stallion with a brown mane, with a toolkit as his cutie mark. “Come in.”

Alcatraz walked into the warehouse, and the door closed behind him. Once again the numerous locks and deadbolts were shut. Inside was a collection of computers, tools, crates, weapons, and electronics. Most of it was probably specialized for specific tasks, because Toolkit was the only one inside; the other possibility was that he only had all of those devices for the purpose of redundancy.

“I was told to expect you,” The fence began as he turned around. “However, I was not told why. Now if you’d be so kind as to enlighten me.” A Majestic revolver slid into view, pointed at Alcatraz.

“I’m searching for a missing Spark Industries android prototype. I was told you’d be able to at least point me in the right direction,” Alcatraz answered calmly

Toolkit nodded and let his gun fall to the table. “I heard of this. A unicorn mare, yes?”

“Exactly.”

“Then I know who has it.” A flash drive hovered into view, surrounded by a gray aura. “Mr. Spark is a friend, and a good customer, so I’ll give this to you on good faith.”

Alcatraz snatched it out of the air and stuffed it into one of his suit compartments instead of his pockets. He needed it safe.

“It’s encrypted. The key to the cipher is-”

A bullet interrupted his thoughts, entering one side of his skull and exiting the other, with chunks of brain and bone coming out either side in a suspension of blood. A hole in a barred up window revealed where the shot came from. The bullet ended its flight in the adjacent wall, digging most of itself into the thick oak wood.

“What was that!?”

“A sniper. Probably a .405 light-match round, judging by the performance and resilience of the bullet. Light-match has a lighter core of hardened plastic instead of tungsten to give it an armor-piercing ability like normal .405 match rounds, but it’s less damaging and loses momentum faster after hitting a target. Flatter trajectory, higher velocity, less punch, less penetration.”

Alcatraz took cover and drew his AY-69, cocking it as he pressed himself against a wall. Flicking the safety off, he listened for any more sounds. And he heard them; the distinctive whine of an AH-50 helicopter followed by the sound of rockets being fired. He began to sprint away from his side of the building when the projectiles impacted, spreading an incendiary payload.

The building began to burn, and he looked for a way to escape. A section of the roof collapsed on the opposite side as the attack, creating an exit route for him. The ex-Marine power jumped to grab the ledge, his gloves squeezing the wood and leaving indents. He pulled himself up and leapt out of the building.

He cloaked and briskly walked away, heading for cover. Upon reaching a dumpster, he crouched and decloaked, eying his clothing. It was all unaffected, still in the condition he’d gotten it in. He wouldn’t have to worry as much about being recognized, but avoiding his attackers was still important, making staying out of sight still the best defense.

“Oversight, this is blue-eight. Target eliminated, snipers got him and his place is burning down. No way his data’s getting out, over.”

So, my N2 still taps into CELL transmissions even without the helmet on. Handy.

“CELL. They must’ve been after the data Toolkit gave us.”

“Meaning it implicates either them or a client in the prototype’s theft,” Ruby reasoned.

An HMLTV rolled by, marked with CELL colors. An idea clicked in Alcatraz’ head, and he cloaked. He then sprinted to the vehicle and rolled under it, grabbing onto the undercarriage and pulling himself from the ground. He tucked the bottom of his trenchcoat between his legs and squeezed them together to prevent it from catching on anything.

“Hitchhiking?”

“Yeah.” He called Spark, punching the numbers into a group of “buttons” illuminated his left palm using the thumb of his right hand, which still clung to the undercarriage.

“Yeah?”

“Toolkit is dead, a sniper got him, and a helicopter followed up and destroyed his building. They were after data, which might be on a flash drive he gave me concerning your missing android. He was about to give me the key to the encryption, but he was killed before he could give me any of it.”

“Why do I hear engines in the background?”

“I hitched a ride on an attackers’ HMLTV Bulldog. I know who these guys are, and why they did this. They either want to cover up their own implication in something, or a client’s.”

“Well, who are they?”

“CELL. I’ve got a less than friendly relationship with them, and I’ve seen them on Equis before, just not in Cauldron. I’m gonna find out where these guys are based, or at least where they’re headed. For now, I’ll transmit a copy of the data to you. I’ll use the GPS device in the phone you gave me to track this convoy. That’ll let me ditch this ride.”

Alcatraz slid the phone from his pocket and into a crevice in the vehicle’s underside.

“Then how’ll you contact me?”

“I haven’t actually used the phone to call you at all. My suit can take care of that.”

He cloaked and dropped from the Bulldog, then rolled to the side of the streets before decloaking.

“Okay, I’m tracking the convoy now. The decryption process will take a few hours too, so take a load off.”

“Got it.”

Getting up, he inspected himself again, and once again found his clothes to be clean and intact. Looking around, he found he was in the slums of southern Cauldron. That meant he wasn’t far from Jackrabbit Slim’s.

The destitute dwellers of this area were in a pitiful state. The crowded nature bothered him especially, and the stench even more so. But he couldn’t put on his helmet, because any one of these people could turn him in. Not that he’d actually get caught, but he preferred not to draw attention to himself.

So he forced himself to ignore them as he headed for the bar. He could practically, no, literally feel Ruby’s discomfort at seeing all these beggars. It was like tension that simply wouldn’t disappear, and felt foreign to him as well. There was nothing to compare it to.

When Alcatraz reached the bar, he was thankful. He felt that external tension dissipate, much to his relief.

“Slim?”

“Yes?” The glass-eyed minotaur turned around. Upon seeing Alcatraz he grinned. Although he might’ve been staring at the black and red alicorn mare at the other end of the bar. His eyes both looked like glass, as if they alternated. “Hah. Don’t think Jackrabbit Slim doesn’t recognize you; my good eye is still sharp. What are you calling yourself now?”

“Victor Stone,” He still used his Jensen voice. It was growing on him, actually.

“Well ‘Mr. Stone’, Jackrabbit Slim won’t turn you in, not after what you did for his friend.”

The Nanosuited fugitive gave him an appreciative nod and grin. “Four.”

“Your usual?”

“Did I mention I can actually piggyback your senses if-and-when I choose to? I’d appreciate a choice. It’d be sharing a drink in a fairly literal sense.”

“Uh, hold on, I’ve got a call,” Alcatraz blurted. He immediately put a finger to his ear and spun around on the stool. “Okay then, you’d share the feeling of getting drunk?” He whispered.

“Yes. I did it during that celebration you and the others had after getting out of the Undercity. I can’t say I share your fondness for tequila though.”

“Okay. What do you want then?”

“I think humans call it a ‘White Russian’.”

“Just like The Dude,” Alcatraz chuckled quietly. He turned back around “Okay, you know how to make a White Russian?”

“Are you kidding? The first human movie Jackrabbit Slim ever saw was ‘The Big Lebowski’, and now it’s his favorite movie. Been like that since the portals opened and the humans came in. Learned how to make one and served it to my customers ever since.”

The bartender whipped up a White Russian, which Alcatraz took some time drinking. It was okay in his opinion.

“Oh, Faust that was good.”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna have five of the usual,” He deadpanned.

So he got the five shots, and he downed the first one.

Something about this whole thing bugs me. It’s the motive, I think. The prototype is advanced, so I know that. Whoever took it wants to reverse-engineer the tech.

But what if they don’t want to make their own? Maybe they want to ruin the reputation of Spark Industries by figuring out a way to make them all go crazy, start a big scandal.

Alcatraz downed two more shots.

Or maybe they want to make them all do something else… Spark said there are more than ten thousand that are rogue; what if there was a way to take control of them? That’d create a veritable army of infiltrators, some of whom might be in positions of power already.

Ponyville was founded by earth ponies, and if that attracted some of the androids, then it could be full of them. I already saw an earth pony with a two-tone mane and a New York accent. There’s an earthie schoolteacher, an earthie mayor… Two of Twilight Sparkle’s closest friends are earth ponies!

He had a fourth shot.

Christ, if someone found out a way to hijack all of the rogue units, never mind the registered ones, they could manipulate Equestria to their favor. Get some of the units into important positions, manipulate public opinion to the master’s benefit, maybe even create an uprising.

With every earth pony’s status in question, the puppeteer could victimize an entire population through a sort of Red Scare, culminating in the victimization of their kind and ethnic violence.

Alcatraz downed his final shot and slammed twenty bits onto the table.

“Keep the change.”

Post-Human Warrior

Alcatraz exited the bar, and after entering a secluded alleyway he contacted Thermal Spark.

“Yo,” The playcolt billionaire answered.

“Spark, it’s Alcatraz. I think know what they want with your prototype,” Alcatraz began, speaking in his normal voice.

“Okay. I was about to contact you and send you the location where your makeshift tracker stopped moving. You first.”

“You said over ten-k units were rogue, right?”

“Yeah?”

“But they all have receivers to shut authorized units down in a pinch, right?”

“Keep going.”

Alcatraz explained his theory involving CELL and the missing units, and the multiple ways they could take control of Equestria.

“If they reverse-engineer that prototype,” He summarized. “CELL, or whoever their benefactor is, can overthrow the Equestrian government and install one extremely friendly to them, maybe even a puppet government. And even if no revolutionary intent is present, they can still essentially create a shadow army.”

“Shit, this is heavy. Look, I’ll get in touch with Twilight Sparkle, she’s the marefriend I mentioned earlier.”

“I know her, actually. But I’d bet a hundred bits she’d tell the Princesses, and they’d probably view it as a marketing ploy. And without any proof of this kind of plan, it’s conjecture that wouldn’t justify the kind of Patriot Act-style privacy invasion they’d have to pull in the name of ‘national security’.”

“Well I’m not just gonna leave her and her friends vulnerable if I can help it!”

“Look, just tell her to keep it on the down-low, okay? Send some mercs if you want.”

“I’m on it. I’ll send you the coordinates to your hillbilly tracker… Now.”

A waypoint appeared on his HUD.

“That’s too far to go on foot. I need a ride.”

“Uhhh…” Some typing could be heard in the background. “Yeah. I’ll send a chopper now. A black MH-50 is headed your way, it’ll be there in two minutes. It’s got some equipment onboard too if you need any.”

“Got it. Out.”

Alcatraz walked to a plaza and waited.

“What’s an MH-50?”

“It’s the multi-mission variant of the AH-50 Sparrowhawk attack chopper,” He answered, using his Jensen voice again.

“Um, you might not know this, but I’m not entirely familiar with modern technology; I stopped trying to keep up with technological advances sixty years ago; watching a city from an enchanted gemstone for so long and trying to keep up with current events just got too bloody tedious. Your suit has a library, I’ll just use that.” A brief pause. “Ah, so that’s what it is. A ‘rotary-wing aircraft’. Doesn’t sound very safe.”

“Relax, I’ve been in plenty of helicopters before. They’re plenty safe.”

After a couple minutes, the black helicopter neared, and it landed in the plaza. Alcatraz climbed in the passenger compartment. Only one side was open, the other had the door closed. On the inside of that door was a wall of weapons.

“Oh, good. They’ve all got gray furniture.”

“Why is gray so important on your weapons?”

“Because compared to tan or olive drab, it fits the urban setting better. But more importantly, it matches my Nanosuit 2. And this disguise.”

He took a SCARAB and attached a reflex sight, grenade launcher, and grabbed a silencer and laser sight to put on later if he needed them. After grabbing several hundred rounds of ammo, he collapsed the stock and slid it onto his back, under his black trenchcoat.

So I’ve got an M12 Nova, an AY69, a SCARAB, some frags, some C4, and my knife. That’ll do.

“This is as close as I’ll get; nowhere closer for me to land.”

The helicopter descended, and its skids touched down on the dirt. Alcatraz leapt out and eyed his surroundings. It looked like a dock, and not a nice one either. It was run-down, and most of the boats were of a similar condition.

Dockhands, and some dockhooves, tended to the boats and shacks. “Impoverished paupers” were the words that described them best in Alcatraz’ mind.

As he approached, he noticed a few humans who stood out. They sounded and acted like CELL contractors, but they were in plain clothes. They had a mix of black K-VOLTs and M12 Novae, all of them carrying knives.

Casually, Alcatraz strolled towards the quays and headed towards his objective marker, which indicated a boathouse. He really liked having a HUD without a helmet, because it made this kind of undercover work easier. Plus, he looked like a badass in his disguise, at least in his opinion.

Strolling by the mercs, he nodded at them. “Gentlemen.” He pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth, then lit it.

“Sorry bud, but there’s no access past this point,” A burly African-American man told him.

“You and what army, roid monkey?” He said casually, taking off his sunglasses and slipping them into his pocket.

After that, everything went by fast. The man raised his Nova, only for Alcatraz to rip it from his hand and pistol-whip him with it. He dropped the gun and drew his AY-69, then fired a few bursts as he ran to cover.

“This Drab five, requesting immediate QRF, over!”

“QRF inbound. Codename ‘Razor’ is inbound from the boathouse.”

“You’re sending a na-” A 9mm Parabellum round passed through his skull, cutting him off.

“Sorry, did I interrupt your thoughts?” Alcatraz reloaded the weapon and peeked out to see if this ‘Razor’ was coming.

He was, and he uncloaked behind him, roundhouse kicking him into the water.

Alcatraz swam up for a breath, only to see Razor leap into the water. The nanosuited operative drew a knife and attempted to shove it into Alcatraz. He grabbed the man’s arm in mid-thrust, and held it there, using all his might. With their free hands, they began pummeling each other mercilessly.

Alcatraz knew he wouldn’t last long in an underwater fight, not without his helmet. He didn’t need to breathe yet, but he expected that need to arrive soon. Of course, he was so focused on defending himself that he didn’t have time to worry.

A knee to his groin made Alcatraz flinch despite his codpiece and suit softening the blow. That gave Razor the opportunity to shove the knife into his target’s chest, and then follow up with another stab to the abdomen. Blood trailed from the wounds, clouding the water near them, but the ex-marine continued to fight. With his opponent’s guard down, he was able to unleash a flurry of blows to his helmet, the suit’s power mode allowing him to crack the visor. In the reflection of his visor, a silhouette appeared, one that seemed to frighten the contractor. His eyes went wide, and he tried to swim away to no avail, engaging his own suit’s power mode.

The blood from Alcatraz’ wounds had attracted a massive great white shark.

***

Ruby Gaze was by no means a coward. That said, if she had a body she’d be quivering in fear about now. She was stuck piggybacking on a human’s body, and her host was drowning while fighting a highly-trained opponent. And now a shark was coming.

If she’d realized Alcatraz had been stabbed twice, and it was his blood drawing the predator near, she would’ve had a heart attack.

Still, she could feel confidence on her host’s part, that he was formulating a plan. Given that she was in his suit, which was part of him, she could get these sorts of intuitions about him. Vague, but still useful.

She began calculating how long before the shark reached them at its current velocity. Twenty seconds.

How long have we been underwater anyways?

***

As soon as he saw the shark coming for them, Alcatraz smiled, showing his teeth to his attacker. He spun him around, and continued clobbering him. He kept pounding the operator until the shark was close enough. At that point, he curled his legs up and kicked the CELL nanotrooper towards it.

The shark bit down on him, drawing blood. After devouring the entire upper half of the man, leaving his legs alone, the beast turned to the bleeding Alcatraz.
He punched the beast in the nose, but in its feeding frenzy it was undeterred. It bit his right arm, which had been exposed as the sleeve rolled up during the fight.

Alcatraz pulled out a frag grenade with his left hand and pulled the pin with his teeth. He shoved it into the shark’s gullet and activated his suit’s power mode to swim away.

As he neared land, the shark exploded, and the shockwave sent him straight into the concrete wall. He climbed up and out, his clothes dripping wet.

Shaking off his shirt, he noticed the points where he’d been stabbed. The artificial muscle had already regrown. The same happened to his arm; which actually healed before his eyes.

Looking at the clock on his HUD, he realized how long he’d been underwater.

“Six minutes on one breath of air.” He took a deep breath to see if it felt good, like it usually did after a long period without oxygen or a good workout. Or in this case, both. It did, but not anywhere near as good as it should’ve felt.

His mind drifted back to fighting near Wall Street over a month earlier. And then to the deep-layer scan that was run on his suit immediately after. All the damaged organs the suit had repaired, no, replaced.

While he’d known for a long while that his suit was part of him, he never grasped that it altered parts of him. He’d thought of himself as a human with prosthetics until then, really a just normal person stuck in a supersuit.

He rubbed his eyes, only to feel cold metal fingertips touch them. The only part of him not bound to the suit was his head; he could remove his helmet, but nothing else. He was trapped in this suit forever.

“I’m not a human anymore, am I?” Alcatraz lamented. He found a safe spot and sat down, leaning against the wall.

“I know the feel. It was hard, grasping that I’d been put into a sort of gem. Gifted with eternal life, but imprisoned without a body. It was fine when I was with Tau, but imprisoned in the Alicorn’s Heart in the Undercity I… I lost my mind for a while.”

“At least I'm in good company,” He responded sincerely.

He noticed how quickly his clothes had dried, and stood up. He headed to the bodies of the guards he’d killed earlier, and searched them. In one of their pockets, he found an access card. Running his thumb over it, his N2 scanned it for any barcode or magnetic strip, or some method of validation. He found it had one, which cleared him to access most of the facility. Checking the others’ keycards revealed it used a universal clearance code and a name, rather than a code that identified each user. It was an anonymous card, making it practical for contractors to borrow one if they lost their own. So he took the card and pocketed it.

“Only lost my AY69. I’ll make it,” He muttered to himself. He headed to the waypoint on his HUD and found a small motorpool. There were cameras though, so he couldn’t risk trying to get it out without looking suspicious.

“Didn’t they say something about a boathouse?”

“Yeah.” He headed for what looked like one, and swiped his card on a machine connected to the lock. He could’ve easily broken in, but discretion was a better idea here.

“Welcome, John Corben,” The machine said.

“And now I’m Metallo, I guess.” Back in his disguised voice again.

The door opened, revealing a lightly-populated room with an elevator at the end. He walked to the lift and entered. There were only two floors, and he was on one of them. He punched the button labeled “OC”, and the box hummed downwards.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Find a terminal. SECOND, my suit’s AI, will be able to hack it and find any information we need as long as it’s on the network. Doesn’t matter how many firewalls are up, this suit is a hacking godsend.” He took his shades off and tucked them into his coat.

“And after that?”

“We act on any intel we find.”

The elevator stopped and beeped. The doors slid open, revealing a clean-looking, hi-tech lobby. There were walkways heading in several directions, which was normal. But what wasn’t normal was that not only were the walkways rounded in their shape and turns, but they were transparent. It was like the time Alcatraz had gone to Sea World, and there’d been that tunnel surrounded by water, with fish and other aquatic life swimming all round him. He couldn’t help but grin.

Nearby was a stand with a map on it, the type normally seen in malls and museums and such. There was a general-use employee computer room a few hundred yards away. It was surprisingly easy for him to act casual, considering he was inside a base that belonged to a group who wanted his head on a silver platter, sliced thin and served with a side of mashed potatoes and some gravy made from his buttocks.

As he proceeded to the computer room, he snuck glances at the security. They were wearing the close-quarters uniform he’d seen in Manhattan; standard gray-white fatigues, but with a more flexible white vest instead of black, and white shoulderpads. They seemed to be armed with low-caliber weapons, although it was likely because rifle rounds could pierce or crack the windows.

AY69s, M12 Novae, K-VOLTs, and some shotguns. Probably loaded with hollow-point slugs. That’d reduce the effective range and penetration by a lot, but increase accuracy and damage compared to buckshot. Wouldn’t surprise me if they use rifles and Felines in lower levels, though.

He reached a door, and slid his captured card through it. After a few seconds, the light above the door winked green and it opened. He strolled in. It looked like an average office space, with the exception of it being for recreation as much as work.

The SCARAB hidden under his trenchcoat would make it very uncomfortable to sit down on a chair, so he found an empty computer and merely leaned over. His suit began tracing the keyboard, mouse and monitor to the computer proper, which it seemed was simply under the desk.

Okay. You’ve done this before, it’s easy. Just wave your hand over it.

He waved his hand over the device and his N2 siphoned data in a heartbeat. He walked to the mini-cafeteria and bought some Kettle chips in sea salt flavor, which made him chuckle given his current location. He got a Dr Pepper with real sugar and sat down on a stool as he munched on his snack.

“Analyzing data… Facility map compiled. Searching for possible target locations…”

“This suit you’ve got really is something… How much was it worth?”

Alcatraz sucked some salt and oil off of the gloved fingers of his right hand, and after cleaning his pinkie, he left it by his mouth.

“One billion dollars,” He answered in a stunningly accurate imitation of Dr. Evil.

“Target location confirmed. Spark Industries Replicant XG3-FEM-UN-PROTO located. One floor below, research level. Waypoint updated.”

A waypoint appeared on his level, apparently leading to either stairs or an elevator. He decided to finish his snack first.

“It looks like this base was owned by one of the wealthier gangs. They had to move out after a rival gang overtook the area. I guess CELL found it and renovated it.”

He left the rec room and headed for the marker. He shortly came upon an elevator, one with a lab-type heading to use it. She put her face against a device, seemingly a retinal scanner, and the door opened. A camera was also watching.

Alcatraz hadn’t infiltrated security like this before. Had he?

A smile crept across his face as he realized he did.

Big Shell, Core 1. A combination of the 1F camera check and the B1 Hall retinal scanner. I know how to spoof the scanner… The camera on the other hand… Got it!

When a scientist headed to the elevator, clearly to access the research level, Alcatraz’ suit fried the camera’s circuitry for a few moments when he brushed past the power source. He waited for the scientist to open the lift, and rushed in to follow the scientist.

He grabbed the man’s hair and slammed his head against the wall, knocking him out cold. His body slumped to the ground, and a trickle of blood flowed from his forehead. Alcatraz put on his sunglasses and felt for his silenced pistol, and when the doors opened, two guards rushed in to tend to the egghead. Another drew an AY69 and tried to pin him against the wall.

Alcatraz grabbed the wrist holding the weapon and headbutted the guard before pulling it from his hand. He then followed by grabbing the others’ helmets and slamming their skulls together. He picked up a second AY69 to use in his off-hand.

An alarm klaxon sounded, and a flurry of boots could be heard rushing into the level’s lobby. As the ex-marine exited the lift, his hands rested by his sides, each machinepistol locked and loaded. The lobby was filled with pillars, presumably to help bear weight, but covered in fancy stone panels; abruptly emptied desks filled the room as workers fleed. Really, the whole room looked more like an upscale office building than part of a research facility.

“Twelve grunts against a single encumbered N2 wearer. Hardly seems fair,” He muttered.

“Can’t you turn invisible or something? This seems a bit risky. But why listen to me? I’m just the civilian passenger who’s going to die with you. What do I know?”

“Freeze!” A black-clad officer with a Jackal shouted.

Alcatraz took a moment to assess the situation, and darted to his left. Bullets knocked apart chunks of flooring as they impacted. He approached a trooper and roundhouse kicked him, and hit the man behind the first with a burst of fire. He advanced to cover, firing as he went. His left weapon was empty, and his right was full.

He cartwheeled between pillars, firing his weapon nonstop at a group of CELL. He only dropped a few of them, and by the time he landed back on his feet, two arrivals had replaced every man he’d dropped.

Realizing his weapon was empty, he threw it on the ground. “Fuck this Matrix shit.” He pulled the SCARAB from underneath his trenchcoat and extended the stock. Then he tossed an armed grenade in the general direction of his enemies, and rolled to cover behind a desk.

The moment the explosive detonated, he peeked out and fired a burst of 4mm sabots at the contractors, followed by a 30mm grenade from his launcher. He fired several more bursts to kill the remaining guards before his magazine emptied. By that time, the room had fallen silent.

Alcatraz stepped from behind cover and stood at his full height. He knocked his current magazine out of the weapon with
a new one, and slammed that one home. After that, he loaded a new round into the underbarrel launcher. He pulled back the bolt to chamber the first round and stepped over a pile of corpses nonchalantly. He could sense the revulsion Ruby had towards his indifference to death at that moment.

A cowering scientist tried to run from him, only to fall and try to crawl away. He could understand his fear, he did just kill a score of CELL soldiers. “Relax,” The still-disguised post-human rasped in his incognito voice. “Killing civilians isn’t my thing. Of course, that can change.”

“Wh-who are you?”

Did he seriously ask that?

“A disgruntled employee.” Alcatraz lifted the egghead by his shirt, his rifle still in his right hand. “Where’s the android?”

“I can’t, they might kill me…”

He slammed the man against the wall. “They might. I will. Where is it?”

“A few hallways down. Lab 412. Please…”

Alcatraz set him down gently. “Get out of here.” He ran for his life, or at least he thought he did; really he was just running.

Meanwhile, the sole invader walked down the hallway to his objective. At the first intersection, a pair of CELL troopers appeared on his left. He hit one with the butt of his SCARAB and fired a single round into the other’s skull.

A few more appeared in the next hall, and he casually hipfired a 30mm grenade at them, dispatching them easily. He loaded a new shot at he strode towards his objective.

He reached the door to Lab 412 and slid his captured ID card through it. It didn’t work.

“Guess they got smart.”
He shouldered his weapon and prepared to breach. He curled his body up and kicked the door in, extending his back as he extended his leg. The metallic rectangle flew to the other side of the room and smashed a guard.

As he walked in another one stabbed him, but he simply picked the assailant up with his left hand and used him as a shield as he killed the rest of the guards. When Alcatraz finished, he headbutted the captive and threw him to the floor.

He pulled the knife out of his shoulder, wincing at the pain. Seeing his reflection in a mirror across the room, he grimaced. His disguise was in tatters, full of bullet-holes, as well as the marks of slashes and stabs. Underneath it all he saw the familiar gray of CryFibril artificial muscle. Even his sunglasses were scratched, and one lens was shattered.

He remembered that these garments were only a disguise, and ripped them off. His trenchcoat tore off his chest, and he threw his shades on the ground, crushing them beneath his boots. Next came his cargo pants, and the covering over his boots. Then he tore off his shirt. All of his equipment remained attached to his suit by the magnetic plates of his N2. He put his helmet back on, and the suit sealed with a hiss.

He wasn’t Victor Stone anymore, though perhaps he’d use that alias and an identical disguise again sometime. Once again he was Theodore Alcatraz.

In the middle of the room was the android prototype. It looked mostly undamaged.

“Spark, you read me?” He asked in his normal voice.

“Yeah, I got you.”

“The prototype’s safe and sound. Thing is, we’re underwater. Actually, the first floor was on the seabed. This level’s below that. Is the thing waterproof?”

“To two kilometers deep, even with exposed circuitry. Think you’ll need to swim?”

“Um, I was looking at the plans, and there’s a garbage disposal chute, two meters wide. It leads to the surface, and it’s only a few dozen meters from here. We should be able to get out that way. The loo is closer, but that isn’t wide enough. And I don’t need to say it’s bloody filthy,” Ruby Gaze chuckled.

“Is this the mare I heard about? The one trapped in the Alicorn’s Heart?”

“Yes, ummm, that’d be me. Uh, Alcatraz, I’m marking the chute now.” She seemed a bit put off, being addressed by a person other than Alcatraz. Perhaps she was just shy around ponies she didn't know.

A new marker came up on his HUD. Alcatraz picked up the limp android chassis, which must’ve weighed just a bit over a hundred pounds. He sprinted to the waypoint, only to meet a wall.

“Let’s rearrange some architecture.” Alcatraz planted a C4 charge on the wall and got back. He squeezed the clacker and reattached it to his suit as thunder rang through the halls.

Water began to rush in, and he needed to use his suit’s power mode to swim against the current fast enough. He entered the chute, and strained to exit it while carrying dead weight. After what felt like an hour, he reached the surface.

“Sending a pickup chopper now. You did me a real solid here Alky, I won’t forget it.”

***

Several hours later, Alcatraz sat at a desk in the gratuitously large Legion Noire compound, which he and his team had bought a few days earlier. Thermal Spark had been nice enough to send a few mercs his way, and he promised another bonus to be given later on. For now, half a million bits into the fledgling mercenary group’s bank account was plenty reward for him. Sure, most jobs wouldn’t be this rewarding, but that didn’t mean he was going to offer a discount for risking his life.

At that moment, he was planning out the basics of his group, which he hoped had potential for significant growth. Uniforms, which he looked forwards to designing, would have to be put off for now. Logistics would be a higher priority, because an organized force needed to eat, and any foreseeable centralization would require that kind of autonomy. Projecting force into areas that lacked a conveniently accessible food and ammunition source would be a prime example of why they needed a supply chain.

The LN had enough money to purchase a few tons of food and ammo, but without someone to supply their organization, that money was useless. In fact, in their current state they classified more as a collection of guns-for-hire than a legitimate mercenary group. But with the wealthy benefactors they’d already served, they wouldn’t have to make the ascent without help.

They had operational efficiency, they had connections, and they had good propaganda potential given their current repertoire of personnel; they had a pair of post-human badasses, a famous adventurer, a high-profile scientist, and a fairly well-known griffon mercenary. What they’d need was numbers, supplies, financial sustainability, vehicles, and equipment, to name a few.

After setting up a basic logistics system, one that he couldn’t yet implement, Alcatraz decided to outsource this sort of thing to his contacts’ underlings until he had his own set of pencil-pushers to rely on. He may have had mild OCD, but that didn’t make him good at organizing.

After making a few calls with his suit and once again feeling awe at how omnicapable his N2 had become, he contacted Psycho to see how he was doing.

“I’m gonna need a lot of C4, a black pair of trousers, a black blazer, a red button-down shirt, and a red tie.”

And All I Got Was This Lousy Upgrade

Alcatraz sprinted through a hallway in a large industrial complex and threw a grenade over his shoulder to deter his pursuers. The cylindrical device exploded a moment later, killing the CELL troopers pursuing him.

“Boss, we aren’t gonna last much longer. Either take out those MG nests or our squad is fucked!” Psycho said over the radio. His team had been raiding a CELL outpost in Cauldron on the basis of what had seemed like reliable intel at the time. Now it was pretty obvious it had been a trap, something Alcatraz had insisted based on a gut instinct.

“And you sent them on Hearts and Hooves Day no less. Classy,” Ruby Gaze remarked privately.

Alcatraz switched to his tactical visor and marked several targets that were just out of view, and would be easy pickings once he cleared that hall. He glanced at the ammo counter on his HUD to find his SCARAB was low on ammo, so he reloaded in preparation.

He neared the end of the hallway and dropped into a slide as he exited it, firing his carbine into the group of white-clad troopers to his right. He got to his feet straight from the slide without losing momentum and leapt over a railing to air stomp a pair of heavies wielding Mk 60’s. The force of his impact sent them reeling into the walls of their nest, and he hit both of them with bursts to the chest.

“I swear, sometimes it’s like I’m the only one who has any sense!” He complained. “‘It’s not a well-baited trap, you’re just paranoid, Alky.’ ‘Psycho and his backup team can handle it, you’re just paranoid, Alky.’ ‘The referees weren’t bribed in Super Bowl XLIII, you’re just paranoid, Alky.’ Come on!”

The gunners in the other machinegun nest trained their weapons on him and began to fire, giving Psycho and his team time to escape. Alcatraz periodically peeked out to return fire.

“Okay, suppressive fire in, suppressive fire out, do the hokey-pokey, that’s what it’s all about!” He shouted. After a few more cycles of return fire, he decided to switch to his L-TAG.

“Ah shit, I had something for this, um… Eat grenade, stupids!”

He put a 60mm smart grenade into the opposing position. It blew up the ammunition stored there after laying on the floor for a moment. The bloom of fire consumed the entirety of the nest.

“They blocked off the data cache with barricades, and we ran out of explosives too soon. We’ve got wounded here, permission to fall back?”

“Granted. I’ll take care of the data.” He pumped the launcher to load another grenade, then switched back to his carbine. After that he leapt to the bottom floor of the chamber, activating armor mode to absorb the impact.

“New objective: Recover CELL data cache.”

A marker appeared on his heads-up display, around a hundred meters to his right. He turned and ran in that direction, stopping for a moment to open the door. The security was beefed up, and there was no way his Nanosuit 2 could hack it like he had with those computers in the underwater CELL base about seven months prior. Obviously they’d learned from that experience, and now he had no idea how to bypass it. No idea how to bypass it stealthily at least.

He pulled out a C4 satchel and stuck it to the door, punching in a twenty second detonation delay. He hit the button to arm it and ran backwards a dozen meters, activating armor mode a few seconds before the charge went off. When it exploded it took out the door in his path and several surrounding chunks of metal and concrete.

He jogged through the smoke and down the now-passable passage, noting the absence of any further CELL units as he did a quick sweep with his tactical visor. He reached the door to the objective, which was unlocked, and then opened it. After looking over the room several times with his weapon ready, he determined that there were no enemies present. Just desks, chairs and boxes.

“Something’s definitely off. Why in Tartarus would anypony just leave important information unguarded like this?”

“The guards probably responded to the alert when Psycho and his secondary team broke in.”

Alcatraz rested the butt on his carbine on the floor as he used his right hand to peck in a series of commands on the sole computer in the room. After entering a few of them, he looked up to see the screen go black. It wasn’t off, because it was still emitting light from the screen, just the black that electronic screens could display rather than true black.

A set of red letters typed themselves on-screen, all of them in capitals and in a digital watch-type font.

GOT YOU NOW TIN MAN

“Oh, shit!”

“Maximum armor.”

***

An enormous explosion erupted from where the intel cache had been, and a single figure could be seen flying from it. Michael “Psycho” Sykes turned to see a figure in a familiar Nanosuit 2 flying through the air, and then crash land a hundred-fifty meters behind him.

“Oh fuck!”

“Maximum speed.”

He rushed to the body without thinking, and picked it up to carry to the extraction. He didn’t worry for the sake of his rescue, he only thought of getting to the helicopter, and to his credit he did.

***

Back at the Legion Noire HQ, the Doctor got a call informing him that a VIP had been wounded and needed his immediate attention. He prepared his usual array of medical tools and arranged them as his OCD dictated. Eventually the doors to his room of the medical wing slid open, and a gurney rolled in.

He took a single look at the sheet that covered the VIP, probably a makeshift tourniquet meant to cover the whole body, which implied that it was covered in wounds, and all the blood that had leaked into it. He peeled it off and was extremely dismayed to find that his employer was underneath.

His Nanosuit 2 was frayed and bloody, with flesh exposed in several places. He shook himself back into focus and began to treat the wounds as best he could, stopping the bleeding and cleaning them. Numerous medical scans revealed a frightening array of injuries. Broken bones, damaged muscles, internal bleeding, and several damaged organs.

Attempts to perform surgery were met with overwhelming resistance from his suit, which obstructed the cuts that needed to be made in order to access the damaged organs. Finally, after several hours of operating on the subject, he concluded that there was very little he could do. He sent the patient to a sterile room and had him placed in a suspension tank filled with an aqueous solution of nutrients after determining that his respiratory system was functioning properly beneath his helmet.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t do anything’!?” Psycho roared.

“Exactly what I said. I stopped the external bleeding and sterilized the wounds, but his suit is preventing me from doing anything beyond that. I can’t even put on a bandage, because it disintegrates in half a minute. I know that suit saved him from mortal wounds before, but it’s keeping me from doing that now. I can’t do anything as long as he has that suit on, and it’s so integrated with his physiology that removing it would kill him if it were even possible.”

The former SAS member placed his palm on his face and closed his eyes in thought. “Okay. So he’s in a coma?”

“Yes, that’s the shape of things.”

He firmed up and sealed his helmet. “Alright.”

He then cleared his throat, which could be heard throughout the base’s PA system. Since they’d initially bought the large complex seven months prior, they’d added new features as their organization grew. It had come to fill so many roles that it was as much a headquarters as a largely self-sufficient fortress.

“This is Michael Sykes speaking. As second-in-command of the Legion Noire, I’m assuming temporary control of all operations pending the improvement of Theodore Alcatraz’ condition. This will not affect your day-to-day operations very much, although in light of his injuries I plan to temporarily shift some of our R&D focus from weaponry to armor and medicine, so as to prevent future losses and aid in his recuperation. That is all.”

He cut his link to the PA system and leaned against a nearby wall.

“Christ, I know my dad runs a law firm, but I never thought I could sound that much like a suit,” He remarked.

***

Warning! Severe suit damage detected.

Warning! Severe user damage detected.

External wounds treated and cleansed by unknown entity.

Invasive surgery in progress. Rejecting.

Assuming malicious long-term intent. Countermeasures enabled.

Running system diagnostic…

External sensors offline.

Modal functions offline.

Movement systems functioning at 42.3334% capacity.

Movement systems locking down.

Internal medical systems functioning at 12.9227% capacity.

Life support at 84.19% capacity

Internal medical sensors functioning at 96.2231% capacity.

Rerouting power from movement systems…

Internal medical systems now functioning at 49.71% capacity.

Life support now functioning at 100% capacity.

Internal medical sensors now functioning at 100% capacity.

Subject stabilized.

Warning! Suit medical systems currently insufficient for treatment of trauma.

Searching for alternative solutions.

Nanocatalyst reservoir detected.

Material origin: Ceph.

Current level is 1.24x10^6 units.

Level sufficient for suit repair, user treatment, updates, adaptation.

Warning! User-specified limits prevent allocation of nanocatalyst without approval by intelligence non-native to Nanosuit 2.

AI SECOND/Prophet lacks authorization.

AI RG_001 “Ruby Gaze” has authorization.

Warning! Use of nanocatalyst for proposed action carries significant risk of altering structure of user’s deoxyribonucleic acid. Risk of Ceph DNA assimilation at 95.412%, with 22.77% projected host alteration rate.
DNA assimilated is 99.1231% related to subject and suit capabilities. Visual changes to user and suit imperceptible.

Estimated recovery time: 20 days, 2 hours, 19 minutes, 12 seconds.

Proceeding with infusion of nanocatalyst…

***

Alcatraz opened his eyes and found himself at home. Not in the proverbial sense, where he was relaxed. Neither was it in the more recent iterations of the literal sense, where it would apply to the places he’d stayed since arriving in Equestria or even during his tours in the Marine Corps. No, he was literally at home in the most classic sense of the term.

He was laying on top of his perfectly-made bed, in his bedroom, in his house back on Earth. He sat up and looked around, seeing everything in detail greater than he could recall normally. It was as though he was in a perfect recollection of the room. The same blue-painted walls, the same furniture, the same queen-sized bed with a memory foam mattress.

He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. He realized he wasn’t wearing his Nanosuit 2, the one he’d worn for the better part of a year. He could feel his fingertips, scratch his buttocks and wiggle his toes freely.

His clothes were a pair of olive cargo pants, black boots, and a black shirt. It was what he usually wore around off-duty, when he was doing just about anything. He’d always dressed practically, with the possibility of physical exertion or manual labor in mind as much as comfort and convenience was.

Was it all a dream?

No. It felt real. Too real.

I remember what Morpheus said when Neo asked why there was blood on his lip if it was all in the Matrix. “Your mind makes it real.”

The length definitely proved it was real, no dream could last that long. Not unless Inception was actually using facts about dream levels, and I was in a deeper one.

But what if it was just a dream?

He left his room and looked in a mirror. He had medium length hair and no beard, just like when he had the N2. The Seventh Column tattoo on his left wrist was there as he remembered it.

Plopping down on the couch in his living room, he turned on CNN.

He saw Ceph and Marines fighting in Manhattan. Scenes that looked too familiar for comfort. Then a first-person view of a Nanosuit-wearing soldier firing on Ceph was showcased. There was no audio, no narration. Turning up the volume did nothing. Every channel he was fond of was the same thing; AMC, Comedy Central, Cartoon Network, History Channel, Science Channel, Military Channel, History 2, BBC America, G4. All of them were his memories.

Is this a dream?

He checked to see if his folding knife was in his pocket, and after confirming that they were, he cut his finger slowly and deliberately. It hurt like it should’ve.

Not just a dream. What’s the last thing I remember?

He searched his mind until he found his answer.

I got blown up. I went into armor mode, and I guess something happened. Probably not time travel or teleportation. I mean, why would I go to an alternate reality or universe if I should’ve died?

So, Heaven or Hell? I guess they’re real. I never ruled out them existing, so maybe that went in my favor during placement.

I know the cloud imagery wasn’t in the Bible, that was a manifestation of Man’s wish to fly. The fires of Hell were a creation of Dante Alighieri popularized in his Divine Comedy. Still, this doesn’t feel anywhere near as absolvent as Heaven should. Maybe the notion that Hell is the absence of God is true.

He scratched his head.

Purgatory maybe?

“Really, is anypony here?” A smooth and familiar voice asked. “Bloody Tartarus, I get trapped in a gem for millennia, then forced to ride inside a half-crazy human’s head, and now I’m who-knows-where.”

A unicorn mare with no discernible features strode in from the hallway.

“Oh. Um, hello. I thought starting that healing process would just leave me by my lonesome until you were back up. Is this your house?”

“Yeah, it was. You really think I’m half-crazy?”

“Honestly, I sort of do. The way you talk to yourself, emulate fictional characters, the strange nightmares you’ve had lately, isolating yourself from others, killing without remorse, it doesn’t suggest much good about your mental health.”

“I can see that… What did you mean when you mentioned starting my healing process?”

“You were bloody and battered. Broken bones, internal bleeding, damaged muscles and organs, I suppose a better description is that you’re a mess. Your suit tried to repair itself and you, but the damage meant that it was severely hindered. The solution it found was to use the ‘nanocatalyst’ stored in your suit to repair you.”

“What!? I deliberately prevented SECOND from doing that kind of thing, stripped him of authorization. I’m not turning into some part-Ceph freakshow! How the hell did that happen?” He paced around the room, flustered by the news.

“I authorized it,” Ruby whispered. “It was either that or we’d both be stuck in a lifeless body for years.”

“You could’ve transferred your consciousness from my suit at any time.”

“And live my life as a computer virus? I spent more than a thousand years stuck watching as society progressed, denied any interaction with anypony. I can’t go back to that!”

“Remember that unicorn android prototype? I was going to give that to you, let you free as soon as I could. I get that you couldn’t cope with riding shotgun in a marine’s head, but I’ve been through enough already! For Christ’s sake, I was barely human anymore when I rescued you, and now I have to deal with being part Ceph!”

“The suit said there won’t be any changes others will notice, it’ll be fine!”

“That’s not the point, I’m not even the same person I was a year ago! I’m one of the few ex-marines, who’ve all gone down in history as traitors and criminals; the only real ex-marines besides me are Lee Harvey Oswald and Charles Whitman. I’m a cyborg and the only sense I can experience throughout my entire body anymore is pain, so I’m either numb or hurting there. My head is the only place I can sense other things. I have to share my brain with an AI and a disembodied soul. Now I’m imprisoned in my own mind while I become some abhorrent mix of man, machine and monster!”

“So I’m supposed to go back to being a prisoner just so I don’t worsen your identity crisis? Believe me, I’d rather be some poor, starving mare living in the bloody slums than be forced to share a body with a self-centered sociopath!”

Alcatraz stepped back for a moment. “Fine, when I get out of here, I’ll get you that synthetic body, and I’ll pay for your ticket out of this hellhole. Then you can do whatever the fuck you want!”

“I await that moment with bated breath,” Ruby seethed.

***

A week passed in the Legion Noire HQ, and Michael Sykes agonized in his bunk over the meaning of a recent intelligence brief.

“Quit stressin’ about the motive, Psycho,” Gilda said, sharpening one of her knives as she talked.

“Well that’s my bloody job right now. CELL is stepping up their presence on the Equestrian continent big-time, and all sorts of institutions are hiring them for security. Thing is, a lot of ‘em didn’t even exist a few months ago. Not just that, but CELL’s got a dozen metric fucktons of new vehicles, weapons, gear and equipment coming in. A large cash influx from this planet, and a large CELL influx into this planet. Somebody’s laundering money to them, and they’re moving in. But why would someone want to give them this much support?”

Gilda stopped fiddling with her blade and looked up. “Wait. You remember Alky’s summary of the Alicorn’s Heart job, and that unicorn stallion that talked to him and sicced those statues on him? And the way he prevented CELL from possibly creating an army out of rogue ‘droids?”

“Yeah… Oh, fuck me! They’re workin’ together is what you’re saying! Some rich wanker is using CELL as his private army-”
“And planning something big. The Heart was supposed to be a source of power, and help change the course of history. This guy’s into magic as much as might.”

“So we’re looking for a very rich benefactor with seriously high ambitions. We know his race and gender, and that helps.”

“Assuming the one who talked to Alky is the mastermind.”

“Yeah, and if he’s not our guy then he probably has an idea who is. Thanks, G. I’ll have our guys look into it.”

***

After a week of living in a memory of his house with Ruby Gaze, Alcatraz was exceptionally tired of the experience. The only thing on TV was his own memories, and his video games were all recreations of events in his life. The only books he could read were ones he’d read before, and most of those he’d read several times already or were bad in his opinion. He couldn’t exit his house either, which heightened that sense of imprisonment.

On top of that, he couldn’t sleep, already being in a coma. There was nothing to do, and he couldn’t even talk to Ruby because of their falling out. Finally, he couldn’t take any more of it. He didn’t even look forward to recovering very much, feeling that there was nothing for him in the real world.

He decided to try and kill himself.

He went to his “office” and looked for his pistol. He found it and checked to see if a round was chambered. The weapon was empty, and he couldn’t find any ammunition for it. He tried to use a shotgun, but encountered a similar lack of ammunition. The same with his rifles, which were unloaded. Every box of bullets was empty.

Next he tried to hang himself. A noose of nylon rope firmly secured on the ceiling and optimized for a quick death. He climbed up a stepstool and placed his head through the loop, then adjusted it. He kicked out the stool and hung for what felt like an hour. He felt pain, but he wouldn’t die. He pulled a knife from his pocket and cut himself loose.
Electrocution. Sticking his head in an oven. Drinking drain cleaner. Drowning himself. Each time the attempt failed and he cleaned up. He couldn’t help but to think of the movie Groundhog Day for a moment.

Finally, he tried simply stabbing himself and slitting his wrists. Though he’d cut his finger before, this time the blade simply glided over his skin to no effect. He folded the weapon and put it in his pocket.

He sat down and sighed, holding back tears. He hated this place because all he had to do was think about his life, and how devoid of any good it’d become. Finally, he just cried silently.

“Alcatraz?”

He looked to his right and saw Ruby standing there.

“Oh, hey. I’m sorry about a week ago,” He said, as though he were completely fine.

“I’m sorry too. Are… You crying? What’s wrong? Oh no, is it what I said about you before?” She queried.

“I’m fine. Just tried to kill myself for the seventh time, but I don’t think I can do that here. All I can do here is think about how shitty my life’s become. I mean, you can start fresh once you get that body, but I’m stuck in the same bleak situation for the rest of my life, and I don’t even know how long that’ll last. I’ve seen the way most of the people and ponies and such in Cauldron look at me; I’m a freak of un-nature. The guys and gals in LN, I’m their boss and that’s all they see me as if they don’t think I’m a freak. Now I’m just gonna be a bigger freak.”

She got up next to him and looked downwards. “Well, I’m just a disembodied soul, and when I get that body you mentioned, I’ll just be a mare that isn’t too familiar with the world as it is now. And Psycho is a bit odd in addition to being a post-human, so that makes three of us that aren’t exactly normal.”

“Well, I guess I’m not alone.” He smiled.

“And who knows? Maybe you’ll find somepony who’s into half-crazy cyborgs.”

“Right, Rule 41 of the Internet.”

“Um, I’m going to assume that’s a good thing for you?”

“Yep. Wait, I’d still be stuck in the suit, so that doesn’t benefit me. Never mind… And Ruby?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

***

Nanocatalyst infusion 70% complete.

Internal medical systems functioning at 76.2% capacity.

External sensors now online, at 61% capacity.

Modal functions rebooting.

External aqueous nutrient solution detected. Significant potential for user and suit repair. Beginning absorption.

Running database integrity scan… Complete.

Ceph research data found in database. New nanocatalyst utilization method found.

Modifying release routines… Complete.

Revising estimated recovery time… Complete.

Estimated recovery time: 12 hours, 21 minutes, 12 seconds.

***

“What’s going on with him, Doc?” Psycho asked the Doctor as he looked at the comatose man suspended in a tank of liquid.

“His recovery is remarkable, the suit’s begun to repair itself and him. The Nanosuit began absorbing the nutrients in the suspension tank several hours ago, and now it’s repairing itself faster than ever.”

“He doesn’t look recovered. Suit’s still torn in places. Probably be a while before I can give him that recovery present.”

“Look at the screen to our left. It shows how the artificial muscle is bonding at the lower layers first, fusing with the muscle tissue.”

On a large screen, a high-magnification camera showed strands of gray fiber laying themselves flat against red fibers. Some of the frayed gray fibers bent downwards toward the flesh and their ends linked with the ends of their frayed red counterparts. As the artificial and natural muscle fibers linked, the gray strands pulled the red ones taut and downwards against the repaired muscles. The suit was fusing its own muscle with Alcatraz’, furthering his connection to the device.

Over what felt like hours, the fibers began to accelerate the rate at which they repaired themselves, and within minutes they could be seen repairing themselves with the naked eye. The CryFibril muscle bonded with itself and folded downwards toward the damaged areas, linking with the severed muscles, then shaping themselves into the proper form in an almost fluid way.

“Oh, sweet Celestia of Equestria… His healing is becoming exponentially faster, he should be taking longer than this!”

Alcatraz’ limp body began to move, and his red visor flashed with light just as his head jerked back. He began to look around and at the restraints on his body before breaking them off and smashing the glass tube he was stored in.

He fell to his hands and knees and appeared to panting, what with the way his head and torso rose and fell. Slowly he looked up at the stallion and post-human in front of him, then stood up. He looked down at the glass and nutrient solution at his feet, then back at the pair in front of him. His suit looked as new as the day it had been given to him, clean and free of any grime.

“Yeaaah. Someone should probably clean that up,” Alcatraz deadpanned.

“I’ll uh, get somepony on that…” The Doctor said as he backed away, feeling awkward and out of place.

“So what’d I miss?”

Psycho led him to the command center of the Legion Noire compound. It still amazed the ex-marine how successful his group had been in its growth. He was the head of his own mercenary group.

“CELL have been moving more and more manpower onto Equis lately, and you know that some of their forces have been getting new equipment. While you were out, they stepped up their logistical workload and got their new gear into the Cauldron region, and the rest of Equis. I’m talking about new uniforms, weapons, ammunition, vehicles, they finally managed to completely refit their whole force. Not only that, but they’re getting contracts from groups that didn’t even exist before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean a company or institution appears from nowhere, then buys the rights to a patch of land and then hires CELL to ‘protect’ it. They’re getting an influx of cash from Equis, and their troops are in an influx into this planet. Gilda has an idea though, based on a couple of the reports you filed. Remember that unicorn stallion who tried to cut you a deal in the Undercity, and those CELL eggheads trying to find a way to control androids?”

“Yeah?”

“She thinks that bloke’s hiring CELL to do this, using ‘em as his own private army. The Alicorn’s Heart was supposed to help change the course of history, and that android army would’ve been pretty dangerous too. If we’re right, the bastards are going for a coup at the very least.”

“It’s all speculation at this point, so I don’t think crying wolf to the public will do anything without proof. Even if we got proof, we’d need a way to distribute the info credibly, and we’re still pariahs,” Alcatraz responded.

“But that’s why we picked the name ‘Legion Noire’, right? Because we’ve all got reputations stained black in some way or another. Anyway, I got some of our contacts to snoop around covertly, see what they can dig up. And I got you something too.”

“Really?”

“C’mon, mate.” The soldier led Alcatraz through the hallways and into the command center. There, he got a box from out of his desk and handed it to him. “I was gonna give it to you for your birthday, but that’s a couple months away so I decided to make it a little gift for when you got better.”

He tapped the side of his helmet, as did Alcatraz, and the two men’s helmets retracted to reveal most of their heads. Their suits had evolved as they’d worn them, and an improved method of removing the helmet was one perk of that.

Psycho looked at his commander impatiently, while Alcatraz shook it and listened to the sound it made. “Open it, you wanker! You think this is a bloody Christmas present I got you because it was seasonal? No! I paid good money into this, and so did a bunch of the others, so get the fuck on with it!”

“Okay! Jesus…” He pulled the wrapping off and saw a box marked “Nyles Archery” underneath. He tore of the rest of the paper and pulled off the lid. Inside was a small object, which he grabbed by what seemed to be a handle in the middle. He pulled it out and pressed a button, causing the sides to fold out.

“A compound bow?”

“I remember you saying you were an expert archer back home, a hobby of yours. Weird that you owned all those assault weapons but you used a bow to hunt most game. It’s mapped to your nanosuit, custom-made for you. It’s got enough power to stop a rhino dead in its tracks, and it’s got some right brilliant features.”

“A bow? You have a suit that turns you invisible or invulnerable, weapons that use invisible forces to boil enemies from the inside out or fire a projectile at several times the speed of sound, and vehicles that can give flight to the earthbound, and he gets you a bloody bow?”

“What kinda features we talkin’ about?”

“Autoloader, adjustable draw weight with three preset levels, multiple arrow types, good sights. Techies are working on other arrow types, but we’ve got four so far, all in the box. Airburst frags, delayed-fuse explosive, electric tips, recon sensor arrows, and reusable carbon impact tips. Best part is, firing it won’t drain your suit energy while you’re cloaked. I got the olive drab model myself.”

Alcatraz looked over the weapon from both sides. It was clean, colored charcoal gray for the most part, with dull silver accents in places, probably titanium. The sight was a tritium-illuminated red one. He noticed the buttons, which had clear meanings to him based on the adjacent crimson pictographs. One of them would fold or unfold it, another detached or locked in the arrow magazine, and a 3-position device that resembled a fire-selector changed the draw weight for different performances and situations.

“It matches my Nanosuit, too.” He nodded appreciatively, grabbed the arrow magazines from the box, and loaded a standard carbon arrow set before collapsing the weapon and placing it in the small of his back. “It’s a keeper.”

“Boss, good to see you’re back,” Gilda remarked. “Not a moment too soon. CELL just sent a unit onto a bigass research-cargo ship some of our guys were goin’ to help defend. We called ‘em off.”

“Okay. Infil plan?”

“They’re sending in a few MV-24 Vulture VTOLs full of guys, a couple CV-24s carrying extra food and ammo for them. Get into one of those…”

“Got it. Timeframe for that?”

“You’ve got around…” She raised her talon and looked at her navy blue Casio watch. “Eight-and-a-half hours to get on one of those birds.”

“Got it. I have to do a few things, you mind?”

“Hey, you’re the boss.” She shrugged.

"Sir, I wouldn't recommend going on a mission just yet. just because you're no longer comatose doesn't mean your body is ready for combat," The Doctor objected over a PA, apparently listening in.

Alcatraz ignored him, left the room and sealed his helmet.

“What is it?”

“Remember how I said I’d get you that body, the one that seemed made for you?”

“Yes, why?”

“I had it delivered during one of your sleep cycles.”

“How did you-”

“Please, it was pretty obvious that you have time you spend resting even without a body, and it was just as obvious when. I made a few calls, called in a few favors, got my hands on that android prototype chassis. It’s in one of the storage rooms on floor B2.”

He got in an elevator and pushed a button to descend from the first floor to the second level of the basement. The lift took around fifteen seconds, not counting time spent loading other people.

Alcatraz reached the sub-basement and proceeded down the empty hallway, and after making a few turns and arriving in a dead-end hall settled on the second-to-last door on the left. He pulled a keyboard from the wall and typed an 8-character code with his middle and ring fingers, then hit the “enter” key.

The door hissed and slid open, with the ex-marine stepping through and into a pristine room as the door shut behind him. At the center of the room was a single box, a black polymer that contrasted the pale gray of the rest of the room.

He wrapped his hands around a pair of handles and pushed a pair of buttons with his thumbs. The box clicked, and he pulled towards himself. A platform connected to the interior by a series of metallic tubes that slid outward as he pulled. With the box open, it seemed almost like a cage, although the sides were exposed.

On the platform that had slid out was a sort of equine skeleton, with the interior completely sealed and only the outer portions of the bones visible. The horn was a bit short compared to what Alcatraz had previously seen, but he assumed that was to allow more room for adjustment.

“Are you ready, Ruby?”

“…Yes. I am."

Alcatraz placed his hand on the face of the android and held still. A red, semi-translucent liquid began to flow outward from his suit’s spine, the same liquid his suit had absorbed months ago when he’d retrieved the Alicorn’s Heart. The fluid travelled over his arm and hand and onto the simulacra’s face. He felt a presence disappear in the back of his brain, one he didn’t realize was even there before.

From there the substance flowed into the neck, and the device began to hum softly. A clear liquid began to flow from the joints, covering the entire body before gaining color. The horn increased to a more average length, a mane and tail sprouted, and a cutie mark appeared. The new appearance was complete.

Before him stood a unicorn mare with a white coat, red eyes, and a smooth red mane and tail wandered into the room. Her cutie mark was a four-armed crimson spiral with arms that pointed in a counter-clockwise direction. She gazed over her own body and began to cry as she ran her hoof across her foreleg.

“I’d forgotten what my own coat felt like,” She mused.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting that ticket out of here?” Alcatraz asked.

Ruby hesitated for a moment. “No. I need to figure things out right now. If this body works like Spark said it would, then I should have even more magical power than before. I’ll need to re-learn most of my magic since it’s… been so long. At least I won’t need to sleep much now.”

“Take all the time you need. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

***

“Of course I’m freaking out! How can you not freak out at a time like this?” Twilight Sparkle demanded.

“Like this.” Rainbow Dash replied, plopping onto a beanbag while the rest of her friends stood.

“We haven’t heard from Marlowe and his friends for a whole month! How are we supposed to investigate Alcatraz’ disappearance without them? And more importantly, what if something bad happened?”

“Twi, ya really need to relax right now. It’s only been a month by February standards, an’ ya can’t rely on February,” Applejack reassured her. “’S too finicky ‘n unpredictable. Only way ah can tell if the Summer Games are held is if the Calendar Fairy decides outta the blue to put an’ extra day on the calendar for February. Like ah said, finicky an’ unpredictable.”

“But I was born in February!” Rarity reproached.

“Unintentional burn is still a burn,” Rainbow interjected, high-hoofing her friend.

“Anyway, last time we heard from them is four weeks ago, back in February. One or two more days left for a normal calendar month, what with this bein’ a leap year.”

Awe took hold of the farmer for a moment. “Oh Celestia, February ain’t random at all… Leap years decide how long th’ month is, and they only come every four years! An’ the Summer Games are every four years too! Why didn’t I see it before?” She turned to Rarity and collapsed at her hooves, sobbing. “Rarity, ah’m so sorry ah helped the Cutie Mark Crusaders get their pranking cutie marks at yer expense!”

“That was you?” The fashionista repeated, aghast. She leaned back and picked up her forehoof, as though she had to protect her body from the surprise.

“Ah’m sorry!”

“Oh, it’s fine.”

Spike sprinted into the room and began to huff from the exertion.

“Did somepony- Want to- To write a friendship report?” He asked.

“Yeah, why?” Applejack asked in turn.

“Letter senses- were tingling…”

“Well good, ‘cause I got a lot o’ apology letters to write too.”

“I’m glad you learned something AJ,” Twilight said soothingly. “Because that knowledge just cost me the peace of mind you gave me a minute ago!”

While Twilight resumed panicking, and Applejack began writing apology letters. She started with a horrible misunderstanding involving her, February and a zebra that had been misconstrued as a hate crime.

All was back to the way it was minutes before. Mostly.

***

Inside a cargo container, Alcatraz and Psycho awaited pickup by a CELL-operated CV-24T Kingfisher.

The vehicle was a cargo variant of the multi-role Vulture used by the US Army, Navy and Marines. It lacked the missile and rocket pods, as well as the 20mm Vulcan gun mounted under the chin. In their stead, it used a pair of M3A2 HMGs manufactured by Schwarz Systems, mounted under the nose and linked to the co-pilot’s helmet. If the co-pilot looked left, the gun would rotate left to point exactly where he or she was looking.

It also lacked the armor and speed of the Vulture, using four independently-controlled ducted turbofans in lieu of a pair of wing-mounted jets. But it made up for all that loss combat utility in its range and capacity. A single CV-24 could lift and transport an M5A2 Atlas main battle tank with ease and transport it 1000 nautical miles, then return to base with a third of its fuel still remaining.

That meant that it could reach a cargo ship a hundred miles from Cauldron with ease, and make several trips before needing a refuel.

The two stowaways felt their casket move, probably being carted to an idling VTOL. When the movement stopped, they heard loud clicks as the container was secured to its ride. A growing roar signified the engines increasing in power, and gravity seemed to increase ever so slightly as they lifted off.

The aircraft gained speed, and the two post-humans ran over their weapons one last time.

Psycho carried an M12 Nova with a flashlight, extended magazine and a suppressor. It had olive brown polymer grips and green night-sights. He also carried a Marshall shotgun fitted with a laser sight. An FY71M with an assault scope, foregrip, and a match barrel rounded out his arsenal. He’d brought his own olive brown compound bow with him as well.

For explosives and special weaponry, he carried a pair of frag grenades, another pair of smokes, a pair of flashbangs, and a couple of REX charges. He had a thirty round magazine of incendiary ammunition for his sidearm, which would give it better performance against armor, and a thirty-five round magazine of the same for his rifle.

“I’m good here boss. Should be able to take care of most problems with all this kit.”

Alcatraz looked over his own gear. He realized all of his weapons had the newer CELL pattern on them, but that was fine with him. He liked the new style.

A SCARAB Mod 2 with a reflex sight, suppressor and foregrip served as his primary weapon. He had a DSG-1 with a suppressor fitted for long-range engagements. His sidearm was a Hammer II with a suppressor attached. If he got into a firefight, he could take off the cans and go loud.

He had a few frag grenades, as well as some REX charges in case things got heated enough.

“I’m good.”

“Why didn’t you bring your bow with you?” Psycho asked, tilting his head.

“Because I have a history of losing things on boats. That’s why I’m having the bow fitted with a tracker so I don’t lose it on any future missions.”

The former SAS operator accepted his explanation and toyed with his own pistol.

After a few minutes’ travel their transport began to slow, and they felt the deceleration through their suits.

“Showtime.”

Deadliest Catch

The rear hatch of the VTOL opened up, and the two of them cloaked before running outside into the thunderstorm. The faint distortions their Nanosuits made were masked by the heat from the turbofans and the rain, which made the CELL light infantry located on the designated landing area raise their arms to give a little extra protection to their faces.

The mercenaries leapt into open cargo containers on one side of the area, lurking in the shadows as the contractors below wheeled the containers out of the cargo hold. They deactivated their cloaks as soon as they reached cover, allowing them to recharge.

“Alright. Get moving, figure out what’s so damn interesting that CELL decided to take over this ship. Any intel you can find is good. Radio silence unless you find something or need help; we’re gonna want to stay undetected if we can. Got it, Psycho?”

“Understood.” He cloaked and moved out into the rain, quickly leaving his boss on his own.

Alcatraz then did the same, methodically making his way across the tops of containers on the deck and heading towards the bridge.
After several minutes of carefully advancing, he made it to the bridge superstructure and leapt to the railing in front of the windows.

He let his suit recharge for a moment before recloaking and climbing up. From there, he proceeded to the nearest hatch and rotated the handle to open it. The heavy steel door swung open, and he sealed it behind him.

Footsteps echoed from around the corner, and he leapt up to a pipe on the ceiling, clinging to it. Cloaked or not, he’d be easy to see when standing in a puddle of water in a fairly well-lit room.

A CELL operator, clad in black lightweight armor, a gray hexagonal camouflage, smoking a cigarette and wielding a Feline X3 with a CELL Hammer II sidearm rounded the corner. Switching to his tactical visor, Alcatraz marked him and the other five people present on the deck. Since everyone else was out of sight and behind several walls, he had a fair amount of leeway in dealing with this one. Ships of this size sailed on their own, with almost no crew input required, save for during certain circumstances like particularly heavy storms and particularly difficult docking procedures in troublesome weather.

This’ll be fun.

As soon as the man walked under him, the ex-marine dropped behind him and held a knife to the man’s carotid artery while holding his head up with the same forearm, and grabbing his wrists in his right hand. He’d figured out that technique recently, and it worked well for him. He could secure his target’s neck with one arm and go for either a fatal cut or a neck snap, while preventing any counter with the other hand.

“Do you like my new knife? I’ve been using it a lot. Is it still sharp?”

“Feels sharp.”

“I’m not sure. Tell me something useful before I get distracted and slip.”

“I don’t know. I was told- we already owned the ship and we needed to secure it.”

“You know what’s onboard?” He moved the knife back to his carotid artery, pushing it in just enough that he could feel his own pulse, which beat against the tip of the blade.

“No, I swear. But…”

“But?”

“But I know I’m not allowed in the lower levels of the ship. I don’t have the clearance.”

“Alright. One last thing. When’s the next watch rotation?”

“In five hours.”

“Thanks.” He moved his right hand over his mouth to silence his screams and drove his knife all the way into his throat through the artery, the tip coming out the other side and piercing another artery. The poor man tried to scream and shake free, but that only made the blade dig around more. After several agonizing seconds, he went limp.

Alcatraz removed the blade and sheathed it, the blood dripping off as he did so. He swore he heard faint, unintelligible whispers and something tugging at his consciousness, prompting him to draw his sidearm and look around, before deciding it was nothing.

Just my imagination.

He picked up the corpse’s pistol and holstered it after adding a suppressor to it. He now had two sidearms to use.

In case I feel like going akimbo…

He cloaked and peeked around the corner, into the bridge. They were fairly spread out, and it would take too long to kill them without one raising the alarm. At least, if he used an assault rifle.

Akimbo time already? Sweet.

He drew his twin Hammers and pointed them at opposite ends of the room, crossing his arms. Casually strolling in, he uncloaked and opened fire, putting two rounds into each person’s chest, culminating with the officer in front of him. Hitting the release buttons, he swapped magazines and holstered the weapons. He got his SCARAB back out and held it close to his chest as he scanned the logs.

“Psycho, I found the ship’s destination. It’s a few hundred miles southwest of here, out in the middle of the ocean. Nothing else. You?”

“I found a few logs, but they’re pretty vague. Something about experiments, subjects, and a bunch of other things with numbers for names. No clue what they mean. Out.”

Alcatraz looked over the ship’s schematics and noticed a very spacious chamber in the lower decks. It was connected to the rest of the ship with multiple bulkheads and seemed to be generally isolated.

If I were conducting dangerous experiments, the kind that anybody who’s seen a few sci-fi movies knows gets people killed, that’s where I’d do it. So how do I get in there…?

He downloaded the schematics and entered the chamber as his goal.

“Waypoint set. Footpaths obstructed. Formulating alternate route…”

A new waypoint appeared on his HUD, a few floors down, at the bottom of the bridge structure. He headed back outside and searched for one of the cables that tethered the superstructure to the deck. He then jumped and grabbed it, using it like a zipline to slide down. His dismount was inhumanly smooth. He drew his carbine again.

He went through the hatch to the inside of the structure, cloaking and following a CELL fireteam through a hatch, then hiding on a pipe above them. As soon as they shut the door, he dropped down and took them out.

The first took a boot to the head as Alcatraz dropped. The second was hit square in the face by his left elbow, and then he used that same arm to deliver a neck-breaking punch to another. The last one was grabbed by the throat and headbutted. In a few heartbeats, they had all been killed with barely a peep coming from them.

“Sorry to drop in unannounced…”

The ex-marine proceeded to the staircase, and gazed downwards over the railing. It was easily thirty meters to the bottom floor.

I can make it down with my armor mode and make noise while burning up energy. Or I can take the stairs and hope nobody comes here in the meantime to call backup while I'm vulnerable.

Looking around some more, he saw a pipe that ran down the wall.

Best of both worlds.

He leapt over the railing and grabbed onto the exposed plumbing, sliding his way down. In just over ten seconds, he’d reached the bottom already. One dismount later, he proceeded towards a hatch.

He could hear voices from the other side, and activated his tactical visor. Two people inside seemed to be talking about CELL’s seizure of the ship. Three others were silent, and there was a lone scientist with them. He pulled out his carbine.

“I mean, we’re playing with fire storing these things there. If you ask me, the ponies who found these squids should’ve either shot ‘em or thrown ‘em right back in.”

“Yeah, except they’re so difficult to capture alive that just having one of the fuckers is a boon to us. Every one we get means more Nanosuits, better efficiency, and more firmware for them.”

“So? Those nerfed non-military models are only a few hundred strong.”

“And a few hundred supersoldiers is a bad thing?”

After marking the targets, Alcatraz stormed in, throwing a flashbang. Stunned by the devices, he put tight four-round groups into each operative’s chest, one after another until all six were dead. He dropped the empty magazine to the floor and loaded a new one, though he didn’t need to cock it as he already had one in the chamber.

Looking to his right, he saw dozens of Ceph stalkers and grunts trapped inside transparent tubes. He walked over to one of the tubes and stared at a trapped stalker. He had a faint desire to let them all free.
Nah, fuck that.

“Psycho, I’m in the hold. Looks like they’re playing with Ceph down here. My guess is some ponies must’ve found Ceph on this planet and captured them. CELL got wind and decided to take the squids for themselves. I’mma check out the logs, see what I can find.”

“Gotcha. I’ll keep looking for the original crew.”

Alky casually strolled over to the nearby computers and scanned them with his suit. The data downloaded in seconds, and his Nanosuit 2 automatically parsed it for important information.

“These docs say CELL needs nanocatalyst and other materials derived from Ceph and their technology in order to make their Nanosuits. This ship could help them double their production and improve the tech at the same time. There’s a Kingfisher on one of the landing pads loaded with enough material to make a few dozen more suits. I’ve DL’d the specs for the nerfed production-model N2.3 CELL uses. There’s some other documents, but they’re extremely heavily encrypted.”

“I say we sink this boat and take that VTOL out of here. The original crew’s probably dead already.”

“Yeah, it says they dumped the bodies overboard... Hmm…”

“What?”

“We could jack this tub and use what’s onboard to make our own suits. We could have our own unit of Nanosuit-equipped mercs.”

“Risky. How do you propose we go about doing that?”

“Ships this size usually run on automated systems. I can insert an autopilot routine into the nav system remotely and have it take us to a dock not far from our base.”

“Which one?”

“The one we liberated from the Syndicate a month ago. We airlift the shit to our base and have R&D get to work on it.”

“How long will that system jack take?”

“I just finished,” Alcatraz said smugly. “Wi-fi makes everything better.”

The ship’s course altered noticeably. Everybody onboard had to know something was up.

“In the meantime, let’s steal that VTOL loaded with precious cargo and fly it home. The ship can dock itself, and I’ll send a platoon or so of troops this way. Or failing that, it’ll wreck itself and we can break it down for scrap after we unload the contents.”

“Sounds good. Let’s try and meet near the landing pad,” Psycho said.

An alarm klaxon sounded.

“All personnel be advised, we have intruders onboard the Callisto. Enemies are two in number, wearing Nanosuits, and should be terminated with extreme prejudice. One is unaccounted for, the other is in the research hold. Security locks for the hold are disabled.” A voice said over the PA system.

“Welp.”

Alcatraz looked around. There had to be a way out other than the stairs. It looked like there was a row of elevators on the far side of the room, plus a freight elevator. The freight elevator was headed his way.

Don’t want them damaging the merch. Can’t take them out myself without damaging it. Gotta avoid them.

He rushed to one of the elevators and pushed the up arrow. When it didn’t arrive in the next five seconds, he started mashing it furiously. The door made a “ding” sound and the post-human rushed in, then started mashing the button the close the doors. As soon as they closed, he hit the button for the deck two levels below the surface.

The ruse is in place. They’ll think I’m going to the B2 deck.

The hatch on the elevator’s ceiling came off after it took a few bullets. Getting through the hatch was a bit dodgy, but once he was up he waited until the elevator stopped.

A power jump got him high enough to grab onto the doorframe for the B1 deck. He hoisted himself up and balanced on the ledge. The doors on the elevator he’d come up on opened to let in a flood of gunfire that hit nothing but air and the walls of the empty lift.

Alcatraz wedged his fingers into the outer elevator doors to the B1 deck and pried them open. A pair of CELL skirmishers was in the elevator proper on the B2 level, firing upwards at him.

“Sorry, but not today. Here, have a consolation prize!” He tossed a grenade down into the elevator. It exploded and tore apart the lift, not to mention the men inside. Above the doorway, the “Out of Order” light blinked on.

The ex-marine took a breather and removed the suppressors from his weaponry. They wouldn’t be much use now.

A CELL heavy flanked by light infantry kicked in a door. Alcatraz instinctively activated Armor Mode and began firing his carbine at them. He attacked the skirmishers first, since they were easy to kill and that meant less guns pointing at him. Their bullets flattened on his Nanosuit, gradually draining his energy.

His first burst traced up a victim’s chest, the final shot piercing their skull. He did the same with the other skirmishers. The heavy had trained his machinegun on Alky and begun firing in the two seconds it took for him to kill the escorts. The post-human unloaded the remaining half of his magazine into the enforcer, who fell dead under the sheer weight of fire. He reloaded and rushed down the winding hallways until he found a staircase.

I’d rather get out of here before the shit gets too thick than get drawn into prolonged CQB.

The staircase was short and took him straight to the cargo deck, where the rain poured on him.

“Alcatraz, I’ve got the Kingfisher, but our package is missing. It’s somewhere on the cargo deck. Can you find it for me?”

“Yeah, I got it!”

Alcatraz ran to a container and began climbing the vast stacks of cargo. He started taking fire from below as he ascended, with bullets pinging around him, and was hit a few times before he reached the top. His carbine was swapped for his sniper rifle, and he returned fire.

All the while, he kept moving, keeping an eye out for any recently-placed crates.

“You’re fuckin’ dead, cyber!” A CELL trooper yelled at him.

Alcatraz took aim and shot him blowing his jaw apart.

“Don’t shoot your mouth off.”

A little more looking around and he found a crate with nanotech markings. He marked it with his visor and transmitted the location to Psycho.

“Thanks, mate.”

Psycho came in piloting the VTOL, taking small arms fire from soldiers on the deck. With the only weapons being controlled by the co-pilot, it was almost helpless, but as long as they didn’t use anything large caliber, the VTOL would be fine. The craft came to rest its midsection on the crate and the latches automatically clamped shut on the cargo, securing it.

“Got it. I’m bringing it over to you.”

The craft headed to the tower of crates Alcatraz was standing on. The canopy opened over co-pilot’s seat in the front of the cockpit, giving him a way to board. He leapt towards it, grabbing onto the edge of the cockpit and pulling himself in. As soon as he was onboard the canopy shut, and his suit began syncing with the aircraft’s systems.

“Sync complete. HMG turret operational.”

Alcatraz grasped the controls and looked at the crowd of enemies onboard. A special targeting reticle was projected onto his HUD. He mashed the trigger, opening fire on them. The twin chin-mounted .50 machineguns tore through them in a shower of bullets and blood. It was twelve seconds of nonstop fun, and then they were all dead.

“Psycho, take us back to base. Between this cargo and what’s onboard that ship, we can make the Legion Noire even more of a powerhouse. Cauldron and CELL will have to deal with dozens of Nanosuited soldiers soon,” Alcatraz said eagerly. He transmitted instructions regarding the nanotech, as well as schematics and data to the LN’s research and development team.

When they arrived back at the base, his mercenaries were mobilizing to secure the vessel he’d just left, and crews stood by the receive cargo. His transport landed and its two-man crew hopped out once the canopies opened.

“See you later, Psycho.” Alcatraz said as he headed for the base’s living quarters. “Locate subject: Ruby Gaze,” He ordered his suit. Within a few seconds, he had a waypoint.

As he strode down the halls, he marveled at how much his group had grown in less than a year. Ex-military, former law enforcement, civilians, scientists, technicians; he’d accrued more than a thousand employees, and LN was only getting bigger. Favors and discounts for certain clientele had been reciprocated, allowing them access to more equipment and better technology. The once-vacant hexagonal fortress had lacked even furniture and basic amenities in half of its rooms when he’d first bought it, but it was chosen because of its flexible design and it now was being expanded into the adjacent forests.

He passed by a gaping hole in the wall, blown by a C4 charge. It was being repaired, but the scar would remain even afterwards, in the form of discoloration where the wound had once been.

The bigger they’d gotten, the more enemies they made. An international strike force had done a number on them when they’d attacked the LN’s base a few weeks earlier. There’d been at least one human in a Nanosuit among the attackers, whose body they hadn’t found after they were driven back; they had to assume he was still alive.

So what could we use to keep countries out of our business?

Chemical weapons were fairly easy to make, but they weren’t very effective against modern militaries. Nerve gas was deadly, but just needed a gas mask to counter, and only older masks were vulnerable to combinations involving corrosive agents.

Radiological weapons were even easier to make if Cobalt-60 from x-ray machines was used, but they were more psychological than lethal unless there was enough radioactive material in the bomb. Even then, they were ineffective against militaries with NBC-protected vehicles, and they’d only act as an area denial method against infantry. There was just too much collateral damage against civilians without much actual destructive power.

Biological weapons could backfire, unless they had a termination vector to prevent the strain from existing outside of a lab for too long. If the virus had an artificially limited lifespan that got successively shorter with each generation, it could be controlled. But extensive testing would be needed to ensure it didn’t mutate in a way that eliminates that vector. It was possible.

But those didn’t have the offensive or counterstrike capability needed for a deterrent.

Japan’s stockpile of fissile material is under relatively light guard. A Nanosuit-equipped team could go through a portal back to Earth, infiltrate one of their facilities, and acquire a significant amount of nuclear material, possibly including plutonium.

Acquisition of the resources would be relatively easy, but it raised three questions.

First of all, would we be forced to start completely from scratch, perhaps using gun-type weapons like early US atom bombs? No. The Teller-Ulam design is publicly known, so we could probably skip to more advanced thermonuclear designs, though the compression of the secondary device is the main engineering obstacle. A yield of 200 kilotons would be plenty powerful as an end-goal, but we’ve got to work up to that. It really comes down to engineering know-how and acquiring enough fissile material. Theft of a MIRV warhead would be ideal, for reverse-engineering and as an interim weapon.

Second, what would the delivery method be? A land-based ICBM silo is easier to construct, but more vulnerable to first strike and easily detected. An SLBM needs a boomer submarine to launch from and is only effective when the sub is deployed, but has much better survivability and second-strike potential, making it better as a deterrent. Cruise missiles can be intercepted with relative ease. Conventional bombs need an aircraft for delivery. Suitcase nukes are risky, low-yield, and only Russia and Israel have them. Railguns are promising, but even if we built one ostensibly for long-range AA purposes, it’d be a prime target and vulnerable to first strike. A mobile system using a railgun to launch a warhead would be ideal, but a smaller re-entry vehicle would be needed if the weapon’s size were to be kept under control.

Third, how would we go about proclaiming our deterrent? I’m still considered a terrorist and wanted for killing embassy staff providing asylum to CELL defectors, which I didn’t do. I don’t want the LN to become any more of a pariah than it already is by officially making us a nuclear power, even if that’d be necessary for deterrence. Revealing any hypothetical nukes would have to be a last resort.

He shelved that train of thought for later. For now, he’d shift his intelligence-gathering resources towards proving he wasn’t a terrorist instead of pursuing nuclear aspirations. He’d rather be known as an AWOL cyborg with a private army, which was somewhat less toxic than being a terrorist with a dangerous following.

After another few minutes of walking, he arrived at Ruby’s assigned room and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” She said from the other side.

“Your ex-roommate.”

“Oh. Come in.”

He opened the door. The room was already decorated with relics of a bygone era. Her era. The sword he’d found shortly after rescuing her was among them. He didn’t mind, really. He never used it.

And that horse I found around the same time doesn’t get out much either. I should probably go slay some motherfuckers with him and my sword sometime.

“Hello,” Ruby Gaze greeted him.

“Hey. Did you do something with your mane?”

Her appearance had changed since he’d last seen her. She had a pale golden mane now, instead of the crimson locks she’d had when she'd taken control of the cybernetic unicorn body earlier.

“Well, I thought I should change things up a bit. After all, I can change my appearance at will now, and I never liked the color of my natural mane, which you saw.”

“Well, you look nice. How’re you doing?”

“Fine, thank you. I’ll definitely need time to adjust, and re-learn my magic.”

“Take all the time you need.”

***

“Hello?” CELL’s Director of Equis Operations had just called his Equestrian benefactor.

“I’m here.” It was the haughty voice of nobility. The individual who’d first contacted them, brought them to Equestria, helped fund them and conspired with them.

“The Legion Noire has captured a vessel we’d requisitioned for R&D purposes. Our Nanosuit production won’t receive the boost we’d wanted without those specimens.”

“What about the HIVE Program?”

“HIVE is unaffected. Ceph won’t be a threat to any of us for much longer. In fact, they might prove quite useful…”

“Excellent. How soon will Operation Ancient Havoc be ready?”

“Progress is going smoothly. We expect the various components will be in place within six months.”

“Excellent. Keep me informed of any future developments.”

“Of course, Prince Blueblood.”

The Director hung up.