3-12 Recap · 3:32am Jan 10th, 2016
Are you ready for the epic climax tomorrow? This is gonna be the longest chapter in the story yet (even longer than the Act 2 finale)!
In other news, the final chapter probably won't be ready by the next usual update time, so it may be a bit of a wait before you finally get to see how it all ends. And now, the second last recap of the story!
Celestia looked around the throne room and found that all eyes were on her. Realizing the decision was ultimately up to her, she sighed and stepped down from her throne, approaching the Freelancer and looking him in her best approximation of where his eyes were behind his helmet’s visor.
“I want to trust you, Agent Washington. I really do.” Celestia closed her eyes. “Why couldn’t you just tell me?”
“I knew you wouldn’t approve, and took a calculated risk,” he answered stoically. “Because I knew that once you saw the fruits of my plan, you would understand that I was only trying to do what was best.”
Internally, Celestia winced. Those words sounded awfully familiar. For a moment, she almost imagined that when she opened her eyes, she would be standing in her own throne room looking down at a fiery young unicorn mare.
“I’m sorry Washington, but we’ll find another way to save Twilight and stop the Director ourselves.” Celestia opened her eyes and, glancing at the guards watching the Freelancer carefully, said, “You’re free to go, but our collaboration is at an end.”
“Hey Wash, can I ask you a question?” Caboose asked. “Why don’t I ever see you smile?”
With some momentary confusion, Washington answered, “Uh… that would be because I’m wearing a helmet, Caboose.”
“Oh, ah, sorry. I should’ve said I was asking for Pinkie Pie,” Caboose said. “Sorry for the confusion.”
Washington just looked over at him incredulously. “That… literally didn’t explain anything.”
“Oh, Pinkie told me before we left that smiles aren’t just something you do with your face. That anyone can pretend to smile with their mouth, but when you smile for real, it shows in your entire self and how you talk and act and stuff,” Caboose said with a nod. “She’s really smart.”
“Well?” Caboose asked, his attention fully on the Freelancer beside him. “Are you going to answer the question, Washington?”
“What? ‘Why don’t I smile?’” Washington asked, exasperation already starting to sink into his voice. When Caboose nodded aggressively, Washington sighed, “I don’t know, I guess I’ve been too preoccupied with more important things, like fighting Project Freelancer for instance.”
“Okay, what about after?”
“After?”
Caboose nodded again. “Yes. After. Do you think you’ll smile then?”
Washington groaned. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
“Well, what reason will ya have not to smile, Wash?” Applejack asked, though the wry smile of her own indicated she was only interested in testing the limits of Washington’s patience. “Once this whole Freelancer business is over, I reckon there’ll be plenty of celebratin’! Just a buncha friends havin’ a hoot together.”
“Friends?” Washington asked. “Why do you keep using that word in reference to us?”
“Why is the concept of friendship so difficult for you…” Applejack playfully jabbed him with a hoof, “...to grasp?”
“I guess it’s just been awhile since it was something I really thought about.”
Applejack’s playful smile slowly faded, and she looked at him curiously as she said, “What do ya mean? Didn’t you just say you had other friends?”
“Exactly. I had friends, but that was a long time ago.”
There was a pause before Applejack asked, “What happened?”
Washington sighed. He hadn’t talked about this in a long time, but before he could stop himself, the words just started spilling forth. “I was part of a team who were the best of the best. We may not have perfectly embodied the virtues of harmony, but we were close… the closest thing to a family I’ve ever had. It didn’t matter, though. In the end, they destroyed each other. Even the friend who’d looked out for me since the beginning eventually turned into a monster.”
“The Meta’s here?!” Applejack exclaimed when they had all regrouped just beyond the derelict Staff of Charon.
“Yeah, I literally just said that,” Rainbow Dash deadpanned.
The Meta stood leaning against a tree, hunched over as it clutched its side. Electricity sparked along his armor, and Washington could hear the man’s labored breathing. Seeing him now, Washington couldn’t help but think of a wounded animal. This would be his best chance to take the Meta out and eliminate its threat once and for all.
Washington raised his rifle and in response, the Meta’s domed helmet tilted up to look at him. But nothing happened. The large man only stood, studying Washington silently. Waiting for the inevitable. And yet, Washington found himself unable to pull the trigger. He remembered seeing Maine this helpless before.
“Despite all of their talk about the ‘magic of friendship,’ them ponies ain’t our friends. We ain’t part of their world.” Sarge picked up his tool case and the white helmet beside it. “We were lucky to have gotten outta this one alive, but how long do ya reckon our luck will hold?.”
Grif and Tucker exchanged a look as Sarge started walking back towards the castle, only stopping to say a few last words. “I don’ know ‘bout either of you, but I don’ fancy dyin’ for a world that I got no stake in.”
Church turned to address all of the Reds and Blues around him, his hologram flickering unsteadily as his indignant anger rose. “Each and every one of you are the exact same selfish, lazy, pathetic morons I’ve always known! A very dear friend of mine needs my help and all you assholes want to do is give up and go home!? I may not have known Twilight for very long, but she’s been a way better friend to me in the few weeks I’ve known her than any of you have been in all the years I’ve known you!
“So you know what?! FINE! LEAVE! We’re better off without you cockbites, anyway!”
The silence that followed was devastating. Even Caboose was speechless. No longer able to remain silent, Celestia let out a weary sigh. She had hoped that the group of friends would be able to work everything out themselves, but then she remembered that the group of Red and Blue soldiers before her weren’t like her little ponies. They were so vastly different; the very antithesis of friendship and harmony. Maybe this was for the best.
“Although his words were harsh, perhaps Church is right,” Celestia said calmly, looking at each of the Reds and Blues in turn. She was unable to hide the disappointment she felt. “You all are under no obligation to help us if you truly don’t want to. You wish to leave? We won’t stop you.”
Looking over her shoulder, Sunset saw the Director standing in the open doorway, the Counselor clutching his datapad right behind him. Sunset gave them a curt nod as they stepped into the lab.
“What’s the progress on Project Ancora?” the Director asked.
Sunset couldn’t keep the proud grin off her face. “You’ll be pleased to know I’m about to harvest my fourth fragment.”
Rather than praise her obvious brilliance, the Director and Counselor exchanged a look.
“Sunset Shimmer,” the Counselor said, looking back at her. “The Director and I have some… concerns about your emotional distance from the project.”
Sunset’s grin began to shrink. “What are you insinuating?”
“Well, I can certainly understand if you blame the Ancora construct for your… fall from grace twenty years ago,” the Counselor said diplomatically.
“So what? You think I’m using these experiments as some sort of outlet?” Sunset asked indignantly. “No, Counselor. I’m not that kind of pony.”
Nodding, Twilight turned towards the north end of the camp where the mountain towered overhead, and the commander of Whitewater waited with his hostages. “C’mon. We don’t have much time.” The others followed her.
“Just…” the sound of Gilda’s voice caused Twilight to look back over her shoulder. “Please… don’t kill the commander, okay?”
Gilda panted heavily as she landed, the edges of her vision tinged with red. She wanted to destroy more enemies. To break them, and crush them into a bloody paste. Whenever she thought about it, all she could see was a blue pegasus.
“Lieutenant Graywing,” a soft, soothing voice spoke behind her. Gilda turned to see the Counselor of Project Freelancer approaching, accompanied by a pair of gray soldiers and a team of technicians in black uniforms. “That was a very impressive performance.”
The Counselor tapped on his datapad as the crew of technicians moved to clean up the damaged auto-turrets. “Now, I would like to ask you a few questions about how you’ve been feeling since the implantation.”
Gilda curled her talons into fists. “I want to get out there and fight,” she said, shifting in place. She didn’t remember ever having so much trouble staying still before. “When do we continue our assignment?”
“I’m sure Sunset Shimmer will answer that shortly,” the Counselor said. “Now tell me, on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your aggression levels?”
Gilda couldn’t contain herself anymore. With a feral cry, she turned and punched the nearest Freelancer operative hard. The hapless soldier was sent flying across the expansive training room, tumbling end over end before coming to a painful stop. The Counselor merely gave an intrigued grunt and jotted something down on his datapad.
“I’m sorry Spike, but I can’t in good conscience allow you to accompany us,” Rarity said as the Wonderbolts' flagship prepared to disembark.
“Why not?!”
Rarity tried not to let the fear she was feeling show as she thought of a good lie. “Because… this mission is too dangerous for a baby dragon.”
Technically, it wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the reason Rarity wanted him to stay. In truth, Rarity was afraid to go on this mission herself. Not necessarily because it would be dangerous, but because of what Celestia had said those monsters at Project Freelancer were doing to poor Twilight. When they finally found her, Rarity knew it wasn’t going to be pretty. There was no reason for sweet innocent Spike to have to see Twilight like… like….
“Rarity? Are you... crying?”
Wiping her eyes, Rarity sniffed. “Please… just do as I say, Spikey-wikey.”
As the Blue Thunder made its final preparations to disembark, no one noticed the Wonderbolts Junior NCO looking around frantically for the baby dragon he was supposed to be leading away. Nor did one of the Blue Thunder’s crew ponies notice that the last barrel of gunpowder he loaded aboard the ship weighed differently than it should have. Nor did he hear the young male voice mutter within.
“Sorry, Rarity. Not this time….”
“Hey there, buddy!”
The Director took a shocked step backwards when a holographic figure wearing the cobalt blue Mark VI variant MJOLNIR armor of his sim troopers suddenly appeared in the air in front of him, and all at once the Director realized what exactly had happened.
“Alpha?!”
“Yup. Thanks for opening the radio channel with us. Made getting into your systems a breeze!” the A.I. stated cockily.
Trembling furiously, the Director addressed the other A.I. in the ship’s systems. “FILSS, activate Protocol: Trojan Horse.”
With some satisfaction, the Director could almost imagine the look of growing concern on Alpha’s faceless avatar as he looked around. “Well, crap. That can’t be good…” he said before his holographic image flickered and went out.
He may be a Smart A.I., but he’s no match for the measures I have in place for just such a breach. Collecting himself, the Director ordered the line to the Equestrian ship to be cut and asked, “FILSS, what’s the damage?”
“The foreign construct has taken control of our weapons systems, disabled numerous onboard security measures, and has opened hangar bay doors one through twelve.”
“Clearing the way for a boarding party, it would seem.” The Director turned and began addressing his crew, “Launch all Longswords! FILSS, get to work on regaining control of our systems.”
“Yes, Director.”
The Director turned to the Recovery Agent beside the Counselor next. “Captain Donovan, gather your men and position a squad by each open hangar bay.”
With a salute, Donovan put on his helmet and beat a hasty exit to attend his task. The Director looked around, ready to give his next set of orders, only to find the mare he wanted conspicuously absent.
“Where the hell is Sunset Shimmer?! If her mercenaries are ready, they need to assist us in this matter!”
“I’ll send someone to find her, sir,” the Counselor reassured him, before waving over the nearest Recovery Agent to do just that.
With no further orders to give, the Director turned back to gaze out the command bridge’s main viewport and watched as a few squadrons of his Longsword starfighters began to converge on the rapidly approaching airship. Giving the ship a cold hard glare, he tried not to think of the recent conversation with the Princess, and the things she’d said.
“You haven’t won yet….”
"Today is a good day to die."
"Permission to speak freely, sir? Fuck that."
"Heh, heh." *Cocks shotgun*