Episode 37: Into the Seireitei
Sunset found Clover in Time Turner’s kitchen, having stayed there to help the fellow clean up after everyone had eaten before training to use the Reishi Modulators. It was little odd to Sunset seeing the Soul Reaper with the sleeves of her black robes rolled up past her elbows as she scrubbed dishes. It seemed entirely too domestic and ordinary for the woman who introduced Sunset and her friends to a supernatural war for supremacy of the afterlife. Time Turner was helping Clover, also elbow deep in cleaning, and but his attention was drawn to Sunset’s entrance.
“Ah, hello there Miss Shimmer. How’s training with my little lovelies going?”
“Little lovelies?” Sunset said, bemused as she leaned against the doorframe.
“Or beauties if you prefer. Or sometimes I call them my tiny monstrosities, depending on how much of my eyebrows they singe off when malfunctioning.” said Time Turner, wiping his hands on a dishrag to dry them, Clover following suit as she finished the last dish and placed it in a rack to dry. “I call my inventions all sorts of things. Changes depending on how well they’re working. Still, how’d it go? You girls figure out how to use them without exploding the workshop?”
“I think we’ve managed to achieve ideal results with a minimum of explosions, despite Dash’s best efforts.” replied Sunset, “At this point AJ is foaming at the mouth to get going. I’m recommending we hold off until nightfall.”
Clover turned to her, expression carefully schooled to neutrality, but her voice carried a hint of her unease.”I’ll go ahead and second the waiting idea. No matter how bad things are in the Seireitei the Gate Guardians will still be on the lookout for intruders. We’ll need every advantage we can get.”
“You going to be okay Clover?” Sunset asked with a mixture of hesitance and concern. “This is probably going to be the very last chance you have to back out of this, before we get neck deep in fighting your own people.”
Clover hesitated, for all the world looking a bit like a trapped animal for a second, but she steadied herself, visibly building walls of confidence around her uncertainty. “If I was going to abandon this course I should have done so before we even came to Soul Society. Thank you for the concern, though, Sunset. I’ll be okay. This has to be done, for the sake of Soul Society as a whole. I can have an existential crisis over it after it's over, assuming we’re still alive by then.”
Sunset nodded, “Just making sure. Hey, this hasn’t come up yet, but it's a pertinent question now; how often do we need to sleep while we’re here? Does sleep work different in the spirit realm?”
Clover shook her head, “No more so than in the living world. Spirit bodies gain wear and tear like any other and need rest to recover. You might find yourself able to push for longer, of course, with your spirit energy sustaining you for greater lengths than your human body, but yes you’ll still eventually need to sleep and the danger of depriving yourself of that rest cannot be understated.”
“Then I’m going to suggest we all catch a power nap before it gets dark.” said Sunset, “Because I get the feeling our opportunities for rest once we’re inside the Seireitei are going to be few and far between.”
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Gradually falling behind the distant west horizon the sun tossed a riot of color across the Seireitei. The blazing red and angry oranges mixed with a gloomy violet seemed to suit Sweet Cider’s mood just fine as she stomped along the stone pathway between Seireitei’s many walls. Beside her and slightly behind her Lieutenant walked, blue eyes looking at her sidelong. He was a plain looking man, with short brown hair and a moustache that was thick enough to almost hide his mouth.
“Ya don’t got ta do this, if yer that worked up, ma’am.”
Sweet Cider clenched her teeth at his words, “Shut it, Silverstar. I ain’t ‘worked up’ or nothin’ stupid like that.”
He cast a incredulous glance at the stone walkway behind them, where a clear path of cracks in the stone could be seen following Sweet Cider’s trail. “Yeah, that’s why yer leavin’ behind footprints in stone, ‘cause ya ain’t angry.”
She looked at him. Just a look, with her deep green eyes flashing, and she saw Silverstar falter for a brief moment. But hardened his eyes and squared her shoulders, meeting her gaze head on, as if he was daring her to deny his words. It made her grin, just a tad. The only reason this man was her Lieutenant was because he was the only bastard in all Soul Society who wasn’t already a Captain that wasn’t cowed by her and could actually hold his own against her. Made him worth more of a damn than most in Soul Society. And he was right, she was angry. Pissed, even.
“I don’t like this damn situation one bit.” she admitted with a gruff look on her face, “The whole thing stinks like a ten day old rotted apple.”
Quirking his eyebrow at her usually unusual apple-themed terminology, a quirk she’d had since long as she could remember of her life in Soul Society, Silverstar said, “If ya didn’t like it, why’d ya vote against the trial?”
Sweet Cider paused, casting another irritated glance at him, but she crossed her arms firmly and gave the question some thought. Eventually she said, “... Gut instinct. Not ‘cause I think them two were guilty, but ‘cause my gut told me the truth wouldn’t come out if they got protected by the old man. This whole mess, something in it don’t smell right, an’ instinct is tellin’ me this is the only way ta kick over the midden heap an’ git ta the truth.”
“Seekin’ the truth by shakin’ things up so much somethin’ has ta fall out, eh? Should’ve expected somethin’ like that from you. Still don’t explain why we’re headin’ ta the Thirteenth Division, especially given its bein’ put on lockdown by the Eleventh.”
“If somethin’ is gonna start, it’ll be startin’ there.” said Sweet Cider firmly, “Don’t want ta miss out on the fun, do we?”
Silverstar stroked his mustache, “Won’t hurt ta have another Captain visible there. Might make the Thirteenth rethink their position an’ back down.”
Sweet Cider laughed, “Don’t count on it. I might think that Celestia is a bit of a softhearted milktoast Captain, but damned if she don’t inspire loyalty. Her an’ her sister both. Don’t think ya could’ve picked two worse Captains ta hang out ta dry, if yer were fixin’ ta keep the Gotei 13 whole.”
Silverstar quickly caught the extra meaning in her words, which also just went to show why she’d made him her Lieutenant. He was fairly sharp. “Suggestin’ that whoever arranged all this ain’t aimin’ ta keep the Gotei 13 whole, but rather tear us apart.”
“Now yer gettin’ why I’m a bit upset. That’s the kind o’ manipulation an’ double dealin’ that just burns my britches.”
She’d never questioned why she’d had such odd turns of speak. They just came naturally to her. Still, it irked her to see Silverstar smirking at her in wry amusement and she briefly considered pitching him over the nearest wall, just for a lesson. But she supposed she did need him conscious and functional for the next few days, so she kept her peace and continued to march onward.
The neatly ordered paths of the Seireitei were a geometric nightmare to people who didn’t know how to navigate them. Sweet Cider was fairly certain a depraved and particularly sadistic madman must have come up with the plan for all the turning paths, all at perfect right angles so that not a single curve existed in the countless walled walkways between the Gotei 13’s many division buildings. It was really a miracle born of a very nature-centric previous Captain of the Thirteenth Division that its barracks was built on one of the few plots of land that was allowed to keep its original state, that of a large, thick forest surrounding a lake right in the Seireitei’s southeast section. Sweet Cider could actually catch the light, verdant scent of the trees before she caught sight of them, the smell giving her a strange sense of the familiar.
When the walkway opened up into the green grass bordering the forest, Sweet Cider halted upon spotting the cordon of Soul Reapers, like a line of surly funeral shrouds. They were all the thickly muscled and stoic types that Captain Hurricane tended to prefer for his Division. The man went out of his way to recruit the most aggressive yet obedient for his ranks, drilling in loyalty to both himself and the law of Soul Society with single minded tenacity. While Sweet Cider kind of appreciated results and straightforward methods, she couldn’t deny dealing with the Eleventh Division was like dealing with a mountain made out of brick walls built by mules.
Then again, she’d heard some people complain that dealing with her generated the exact same feeling, and she couldn’t help but crack a small smile as she approached the cordon. She noticed that the Eleventh Division Soul Reapers all tensed up at her smiling approach, a few going so far as to put hands on the hilts of their Zanpaktou. That only made Sweet Cider’s smile widen.
“Mighty fine lookin’ blockade ya got goin’ here.” she said, sliding her eyes across the group of around thirty of the Eleventh Division’s rank and file members. They’d set up a small camp at the clear area between the Seireitei walls and the forest, a few tall, black tents probably housing another twenty Soul Reapers besides the thirty she saw. This was just a fraction of the Eleventh Division’s full numbers, which were split between covering other entrances to this area, or patrolling other parts of the Seireitei, not to mention the many more Soul Reapers still deployed to the living world. This little crisis in Seireitei didn’t halt the Soul Reaper’s duties to the realm of the living, after all.
Looking among the Soul Reapers, Sweet Cider picked out the officers, which she could discern just from their spirit energy alone. Looked like there were four seated officers present, one of them she recognized as Hurricane’s Lieutenant, Poesy.
“Where’s Lieutenant Poesy at?” she asked, not seeing the woman present, but able to sense she was nearby, “I’m aimin’ ta git past this cordon an’ I’d rather do it without havin’ to walk through it.”
“Diplomatic as always, ma’am.” Silverstar said.
“Shut it, Silverstar.”
One of the more boisterous looking Soul Reapers present, a tall, thick fellow with swept back, slick black hair sauntered up to her, wearing a smug look. She pegged him as one of the seated officers, maybe Hurricane’s Sixth or Fifth Seat. She didn’t really memorize the faces of all the other divisions’ officers below the Lieutenant level.
“Greetings, Captain.” the man started to say, “I’m afraid the Lieutenant is busy at the moment but if you come back lat-”
Sweet Cider’s left hand was on the man’s throat, lifting him above her head in about the time it took to bat an eye. She kept the pressure on his throat light. A cordial choke. Enough to strangle his words, but still let him get a bit of air to breathe, even if all he could do with that breath was sputter.
Immediately blades were drawn among all the other Eleventh Division members in a dry rattle of steel. Silverstar stayed standing casually next to Sweet Cider, not even bothering to look concerned. For that matter neither did Sweet Cider.
“Lieutenant, could ya please git out here ‘fore I gotta teach yer subordinate why it ain’t a good idea ta play games wit a Captain who’s got no patience for no horseapples?”
Fairly quickly a form emerged from one of the tents. She was a young looking lady, with skin a soft yellow color just a few shades too light to call lemon. Her hair was a dark shade of pink, braised around the brow in almost something like a circlet, while the rest hung in a waves down to her mid-back. Worried, teal eyes looked at Sweet Cider and the man she held, wide as dinner plates as she approached. Her voice was humble and quiet, like a particularly timid dormouse.
“Um, hello Captain Sweet Cider, Lieutenant Silverstar. Could I, um, ask you to please put Fifth Seat Davenport down?”
“Since ya asked nicely.” Sweet Cider said, dropping Davenport, who to his credit managed to land on his feet. He backed away a few steps, rubbing his throat, and casting a furtive glance between Sweet Cider and Lieutenant Poesy.
“Lieutenant, sorry you had to be disturbed. I was trying to tell the Captain that you were unavailable.”
Poesy glanced at him, and tilted her head in a small bow of thanks, “It’s okay. My meditation can wait. Is your throat going to be alright?”
Davenport clenched his fists, a heated gleam in his eyes, but he nodded, “Just fine, Lieutenant. Just fine.”
“Oh, that’s good. So, um, Captain Sweet Cider, what can I do for you, especially if it means you’ll stop trying to choke our fellow Soul Reapers?”
“Just need yer all clear ta go past the cordon.” Sweet Cider said, “I know I could do it on my own authority, but knowin’ Hurricane he’d raise a damn stink if I didn’t clear it through this cordon first. So consider it me bein’ polite that I’m askin’ ya ta let me by, rathern than just walkin’ on my merry way.”
“Oh, um, oh my that’s... well the Captain said that, well you see... I’m not supposed to let anybody through.” said Poesy, raising a hand to her mouth and biting her lower lip. “No one in or out. Those were the Captains specific orders. Oh, I don’t kow if he meant that to apply to other Captains. Does it apply to other Captains? I suppose if the Captain Commander came by I couldn’t stop him from going through. Oh! Not that I could stop you either! But is Captain Hurricane expected me to? His orders were so specific, and he didn’t mention what to do about another Captain arriving.”
She was starting to babble, so Sweet Cider raised a hand, forestalling the tide of words.
“Poesy I ain’t got all day. I’m fixin’ ta have a chat with Captain Celestia’s guys n’ gals ta see ‘bout makin’ ‘im see some damn sense. I’d like ta do it ‘fore somebody gits dumber n’ a blood drunk tick an’ kicks off a fight ain’t none o’ us want.”
“That won’t be necessary Captain Sweet Cider,” said the rough baritone voice of Captain Hurricane as he appeared from the pathway behind her, striding along with his white Captain’s overcoat swaying behind him. He carried in his right hand a scroll, and held it up as he reached the group, his eyes fixed squarely on Sweet Cider. “Any talking you need to do with the Thirteenth Division can happen after I deliver this to them.”
“An’ just what’s that?” asked Sweet Cider, eyeing the scroll with a reserved look.
“A signed decree from Central 46 ordering the Thirteenth Division to surrender their Zanpaktou until such time as a new Captain is selected to head their Division. If they fail to submit their blades to being held by us within two hours the Eleventh Division is fully authorized to use whatever means deemed needed to subdue resistance.”
“That’s just plum crazy,” said Silverstar, eyes blinking in shock, “There ain’t no way an entire division would disarm willingly like that! Especially with how riled up the Thirteenth is!”
Sweet Cider’s jaw clenched tightly, and she noticed that Hurricane didn’t look at all concerned with the situation. She could feel her own headache mounting, her foul mood deepening with this news. “Ya got ta know, Hurricane, that the Thirteenth was already fixin’ fer a fight. Central 46’s got ta know the same thing. They signed that decree knowin’ full damn well what it means. Two hours from now ye’ll be startn’ a civil war!”
“No, I’ll be performing my duties as a Captain of the Gotei 13 to lawfully subdue sedition within our ranks and ensure order is maintained.” Captain Hurricane replied curtly, “If you wish to aide me in this task I’ll welcome the assistance of the Tenth Division. After all, with sufficient numbers we can minimize the damage done by overwhelming the Thirteenth, or even perhaps intimidating them into surrender.”
Sweet Cider considered that. Her frustration with the situation was mounting rapidly, but Hurricane did have a point that if she called in her full Division to assist the Eleventh that it was possible the Thirteenth Division might see the discretion as the better part of valor. She didn’t know Celestia’s Third Seat, Inkwell, all too well, but Celestia tended to promote the more level headed types. And ludicrously loyal. Not always the best combination, since the most insane actions were often performed by the most calm minded individuals. After all, they didn’t have the sense to know when they shouldn’t be calm. Still, she wasn’t about to abandon what she came here to do.
“If I bring in my crew, ya don’t give me no damn guff ‘bout goin’ ta talk to ‘em.”
“Wasn’t planning to anyway.” replied Hurricane, dipping into a short bow, “The help will be appreciated, even if the Eleventh could handle the situation on our own.”
Sweet Cider huffed out a sigh, turning to Silverstar, “Go back to the barracks and have Third Seat Troubleshoes start musterin’ the division. Don’t pull no one off of active duties, but call up our reserves and anyone bein’ idle hands. Have them back here in less n’ two hours.”
Silverstar, looking as if he’d swallowed a slice of lemon coated in dirt, gave a quick bow. “Yes ma’am!” Then he vanished with the swift, wind rustling speed of a Flash Step.
As he departed, and Captain Hurricane began to lead her through the cordon and into the forest, Sweet Cider couldn’t tear her eyes away from the decree in his hand. She could demand to read it, but he was going to show it to the Thirteenth Division soon enough, so it wasn’t as if there was a question of what was written there. Instead she could only wonder why it’d been written. It wasn’t as if the Thirteenth Division could actually do anything with the position it was in. It wasn't a large division, comparatively speaking. Her division plus Hurricane’s would outnumber them three to one. Even if they had some crazed notion of mounting a rescue of Captains Celestia and Luna it would be a suicide mission.
No one was that crazy. Inkwell had to know this act of defiance was ultimately pointless.
But then Central 46 had to know that too, didn’t they? So why this decree, which would only ensure the escalation of the crisis?
Could the thing that smelled rotten to her about this whole mess reach all the way into Soul Society’s most guarded echelon of power? Corruption in Central 46 didn’t make sense! They already held all the authority they needed, and basically lived at the pinnacle of the Soul Society. So what was there to gain in creating a situation where Soul Society would start tearing itself apart?
It didn’t make any sense to her, but Sweet Cider was intending to find out, no matter who she had to kick in the head to get some answers.
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With the sun now behind the horizon the cloak of dusk had fallen over the streets of Soul Society’s many districts. Using that gloom as their cover, Sunset and her friends, along with Clover and Ditzy, made their way swiftly towards the border between the Rukongai and the Seireitei. This border was marked by two things. One was the starkly different architecture between the haphazard patchwork of different buildings in the Rukongai, and the neatly ordered white marble walls and gleaming tiled pathways of the Seireitei. The other was the floating wall of polished white that hung above a clear, open space marking that border. A wall that would slam closed, cutting off Seireitei the second an unauthorized spirit energy drew too close.
Sunset huddled at the mouth of an alley between two of the smaller wooden buildings right at the edge of the open area between the Rukongai and Seireitei, and she glanced left and right. She saw the tall stone pillars of a gateway about a football field’s distance to her left, one of the great gates into Seireitei. Ditzy had warned them that each gate had a guard watching over them, but hopefully they wouldn’t need to worry about that. The idea was to do this with stealth.
“I don’t see any guard around.” she noted, licking her lips and glancing back at Ditzy, “Are you sure they don’t take breaks or something?”
Ditzy chuckled dryly, “Of course they take breaks, but only rarely, and they live inside quarters housed within the gates themselves, so you can bet that even if you don’t see him, the Guardian of the South Gate is there. Lucky for you guys, I know just how to distract him.”
At that Ditzy began to... disrobe. Sunset sighed, while her friends one by one either gave quick gasps and turned away, or otherwise averted their eyes.
“Really must you do that, Miss Doo?” asked Rarity, “At least provide us warning first!”
“Seriously, who just tosses their clothes off that fast anyway? I thought I’d mastered the speed change in the locker rooms, but this is ridiculous.” muttered Rainbow Dash.
Ditzy laughed lightly, bundling up her clothes and handing them over to Rarity, “I’ll trust you to look over these until I need them again. I’m going to distract the Gate Guardian while you girls sneak through. Get your Reishi Modulators ready!”
“Don’t you need one too?” asked Fluttershy, hiding most of her face behind the curtain of her pink hair.
“Right here!” Ditzy said, flicking her wrist and just producing an orb from seemingly nowhere. “Don’t worry, I have this under control.”
At that her form began to become suffused with a smokey white glow and her body shifted as she crouched down. Gray fur sprouted and her body contorted, a tail forming as she got smaller and smaller, until in seconds a familiar gray cat was standing in the alley with the Reishi Modulator orb clutched in its surprisingly strong and prehensile tail. The cat gave the girls a smile and a soft meow, then began to swiftly pad out towards the distant gatehouse.
“She’s... odd,” Clover commented with a few fluttering eyeblinks.
“Is she really going to be able to distract the guard like that?” asked Rainbow Dash. Clover shrugged.
“I don’t know. I’ve never even met the man.” Clover said, licking her lips and adding, “All I know is that he’s supposed to be ridiculously large and strong.”
“Either way, let’s ready the orbs and be ready to make our move when the time is right.” said Sunset, drawing out her own Reishi Modulator and concentrating a slow, steady flow of her spirit energy into it. Her friends all followed suit, and in a minute they all had their orbs glowing softly. Sunset resumed watching the gatehouse, feeling a rising tension with each passing second, like her spine was turning into a compressed spring. She could sense a warm vibration from Hokori sheathed at her hip, and could tell the Zanpaktou was as ramped up as she was. She put a comforting and acknowledging hand on the hilt of the blade.
A minute or two later there was a sudden bellowing voice from the gatehouse, like a baritone roar of a cross between a man and a blow horn. “What’re you doing in my house, cat!? Ain’t no animals allowed on premise! Can’t you read the sign!? Now get before Iron Will shows you the boot!”
A moment later there was a titanic crashing noise followed by a bellowing wail, “NO! Not the upholstery! Stop that! You’re going to tip over the vase! Oh that’s it, when you got yourself a pest, boot it like the rest! Come here!”
Sunset could feel actual tremors in the ground as she heard more explosive crashes from the gatehouse. She shared a wide eyes look with the others, and offered them a helpless shrug with a sheepish grin. “Well, that’s one way to get a distraction. Let’s go!”
The ran as fast as they could. Well, most of the ran. Pinkie Pie bounced, while still keeping pace. Clover took the lead next to Sunset, saying, “The sewer entrance should be alongside that building over there, to the right.”
She pointed towards one of the first buildings on the other side of the floating wall, a long rectangular affair with a number of dark slitted windows in its side and a small, walled entrance on its left side. The spot Clover was pointing out looked almost like a bunker entrance, building into the ground along the building’s outer wall.
“Is it going to be locked?” Sunset asked.
“Yes, but I can open it.” said Clover, “Since some of the Twelfth Division labs connect to the sewer system all the seated officers have access to them.”
Sunset’s tension reached a pique as they passed beneath the giant floating stone slabs that made up the currently inactive wall. The wall had to have been at least ten foot thick, if not more, and if any one of the girls failed with the Reishi Modulators at that point then the wall would drop right on top of them, squashing them like grapes.
She breathed a sigh of relief as they got beyond the wall without it dropping or any kind of alarm sounding. Granted the Gate Guardian, Iron Will apparently if his self-referential squeak was to be believed, was still making a huge racket chasing Ditzy around his quarters. A few lights were coming on in nearby buildings, but hopefully anyone looking would be paying attention to the gatehouse and not the seven shadowy forms rushing across the open space towards one of the sewer entrances.
Fortune was with them as Sunset heard no shouts calling about intruders, and inside of minute they were at the closed stone doors of the sewer entrance. Once there Clover knelt down at the base of the doors and with a few swift gestures pressed her fingers upon the stone at several points. Sunset noticed the stone contained seamless depressions, like the buttons of a keypad, and it seemed Clover entered a code, as moments later the stone doors slide open seamlessly, revealing smooth stairs leading down into an eerily lit corridor.
“Huh, I was expecting a bit more a smell, to be honest.” said Rarity.
“Ya complainin’?” asked Applejack.
“Not at all. Shall we descend? Oh, but where’s Miss Doo? Is she still distracting that ruffian?”
Pinkie Pie licked her forefinger and put it up into the air as if she was testing the wind, and abruptly went through a series of rapid body tremors starting with a twitching left ear, followed by a wiggling right foot and triple eye twitch. “She’ll be here soon.”
“Like, how soon, hun?” asked Applejack, holding up a finger, “Like, soon soon? Kinda soon? Too late we’ve been found out soon? Oh look we’re already surrounded by guards soon?”
Pinkie Pie rolled her eyes up as if in deep thought, brow furrowing. “Ummm... I’d say just in the nick of time before it's too late soon. Give or take.”
Applejack heaved a groaning sigh, “Real reassurin’.”
“Is somebody doubting my skills in timing?” asked Ditzy as she appeared atop of Applejack’s head, fading in with the speed of an obvious Flash Step. Sunset blinked at the feline as she licked he paws and Applejack’s face turned into a flat frown, eyes blazing irritation as she swatted at the cat sitting on top of her stetson.
“Git off dangnabbit!”
Ditzy just vanished and reappeared again at the open sewer entrance, tail swishing about. “I see you’ve got the door open. Let’s go, before Iron Will realizes I’m no longer hiding in his sock drawer.”
“I WILL DESTROY EVERY PIECE OF FURNITURE IN HERE AS LONG AS YOU ARE INSIDE THEM, CAT!” came an echoing bellow from the gatehouse, causing Sunset to shudder.
“Okay, yes, going now is good. Everybody into the disturbingly clean and nice smelling sewer!”
“Does that guy not like cats?” asked Fluttershy as they all quickly went down the steps into the sewer corridor, a remarkably broad pace that let the girls walk three abreast with elbow room to spare. Iron Will’s shouting was muffled as Clover pressed a few more stone buttons on the other side to close the door behind them.
“He’s allergic.” said Ditzy with a flashing grin, then proceeded to glow white and smoothly melt back into the form of her human body. “I’ve been wanting to pull that prank on him for decades, heheh! Alright, next stop, the spirit ward!”
“Ahem!” Rarity cleared her throat loudly, holding out Ditzy’s clothes just as the woman, still butt-naked, had started to lead the way down the corridor with a bounce in her step. Ditzy glanced back at the clothes and her grin widened.
“Whoops. So easy to forget those things. Just a sec!”
In just a few moments Ditzy managed to slip back into her clothes, once more impressing Sunset with just how fast she could change. It must be a skill one practiced. Honestly even after years of getting used to them Sunset found wearing clothes all the time a bit uncomfortable.
Hm, if Ditzy learned a technique to shapeshift into a cat, then maybe she could teach me something similar? It’d be nice to get onto all four hooves again. Sunset thought, but put the notion aside as the group went deeper into the sewer.
The corridor very quickly opened up into the sewer proper, the gentle rush of water echoing through the long, wide pathways. The water went through a canal about ten meters across, with wide walkways on either side, and stone arches forming paths that bridged the gaps at junctions. Everything was lit by softly glowing lamps spaced out every thirty paces or so, making navigation easy.
“How far is the ward?” Sunset asked.
“It should be at the second junction from the entrance,” said Clover, “Its visible, so we won’t walk into it by accident.”
“There’s supposed to be some kind of robots guarding it right?” asked Rainbow Dash, pounding her fists together, “We can totally kick them into scrap heaps?”
“Constructs, not robots,” clarified Clover.
“Uh, what’s the difference?”
Clover blinked, as if the question was at once both ludicrous, yet one she’d also never considered. “W-well... umm... well for one robots are made of metal, and Twelfth Division's constructs are made from concentrated reishi particles arranged in dense patterns to form metallic-like armor. Which is not metal. And, er, robots have circuits! Constructs use spirit particle matrices! They are completely different!”
As they rounded a juncture, a glowing barrier of white energy could be seen blocking the way ahead like a glazed wall of glass. Standing in front of the ward were about six bulky metal objects that looked like floating hexagons the size of beach balls. With very mechanical sounding clicks and beeps square metal eyes opened up on them, flashing yellow, and large bladed clamps extended on thin robotic arms from the sides of the construct's bodies. In identical, scratchy mechanical voices they all said.
“Beep-boop, intruders detected. Engaging.”
Then the barrels of what looked like lasers extended out of the constructs chest areas.
Rainbow Dash gave Clover an exceedingly flat look. Clover smiled with embarrassment, saying, “Okay, well, they’re still technically not robots.”
Then the constructs opened fire with a barrage of blazing yellow spirit energy beams.
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“Fer cryin’ out loud Inkwell, ain’t ya supposed ta be smart!?” said Sweet Cider, not bothering to keep any of the raw frustration and anger out of her voice a she slammed one hand down on the knee-high table she was seated at cross-legged alongside Captain Hurricane. Third Seat Inkwell sat across from them, looking like a woman who hadn’t slept in days (probably entirely true) who was doing all in her power to keep her composure. She ran one dainty hand through her neatly bunned hair, pulling back a loose strand, and resumed looking straight at Sweet Cider Calmly.
“Ya ain’t got a chance o’ achomplishin’ nothin’ but wastein’ lives ya darn fool! Just comply with orders an’ there won’t be no need fer trouble, but long as yer defyin’ Central 46, whatda’ya expect ‘cept a heap o’ trouble ya can’t deal with!?”
“I appreciate the concern for the wellbeing of those under my charge, Captain Sweet Cider,” Inkwell said, taking a sip of tea from a ceramic cup on the table. Sweet Cider and Hurricane both had cooling, full cups in front of them. “However the Thirteenth Division has not violated any of Soul Society’s standing laws. Ordering us to disarm is an unjustified decree that bypasses due process. Did they gain audience with the Captain Commander before issuing such a decree?”
Sweet Cider hadn’t really thought of that, and cast a questioning glance at Hurricane, who gestured to the decree itself which lay open on the table. “The Captain Commander’s seal is on the decree is it not?”
Inkwell nodded, “True, but was that seal put there by him personally, or did Central 46 put it there for him? Even if he did, you cannot expect us to disarm.”
“Oh I don’t expect anything from you or your division, Inwell,” said Hurricane, lips curling in a eager smile, “But perhaps you’ll prove me wrong? Resisting orders gives my division full authority to detain every single one of you, by force.”
“I am aware, Captain. However my answer remains the same, and every one of the Thirteenth Division is behind me on this.” Inkwell’s eyes flashed with a spark of utter outrage, and Sweet Cider had to respect the steel that entered the woman’s voice, “We shall not allow the travesty of justice of that execution to take place. Be it right here and now, know we stand ready to fight and fall, one and all, to protect our Captain and her sister. Should we begin? Are you prepared for that, Captains?”
It was obvious there wasn’t any reasoning with Inkwell. Sweet Cider had no chance of defusing the situation. Her frustration just twisted further at the thought. It felt like she was on a train careening towards a broken bridge, and everyone on it was more than happy to just keep shoveling coal into the engine furnace.
“Yer a darn mule-headed idiot, an’ doin’ this ain’t gonna help yer Captain. All that’s gonna happen is in two hours most o’ ya’ll are gonna be imprisoned right alongside them other two idiots! But ya know what? Fine. This is how it's got ta be? I’ll see ta puttin’ down this foolishness myself. C’mon Hurricane, we’re done here.”
“Awfully bossy now aren’t you?” he noted with a quick smirk as he joined her in standing up, “I do enjoy a woman who can be assertive.”
“Shut it or I’ll assert my fist through yer kidneys.” Sweet Cider growled, then gave Inkwell a stiff bow, “Be seein’ ya soon, Third Seat Inkwell. Hope yer prepared fer the asswhuppin’ that yer bringin’ down on yer own.”
“We were prepared for this the moment Captains Celestia and Luna were wrongfully incarcerated.” Inkwell said with solemn finality.
“For the buck all good it’ll do ‘em.” Sweet Cider said under her breath as she and Hurricane exited the room, which led out onto one of the wooden causeways surrounding the long, single story building that was one of a dozen strung out among the forest trees. The Thirteenth Division headquarters and barracks was a serene place, filled with small, tranquil gardens and ponds among the clean, well maintained buildings. Despite that peaceful appearance, the air was heavy with nervous energy as the Soul Reapers of the division walked tensley around their barracks with hands near their Zanpaktou and eyes glued to the two Captains departing.
“Hmm, smell that fear in the air,” Hurricane chuckled, “These milksops are putting on quite a brave face, but they’ll crumble when it comes time to actually fight.”
“Ya reckon so?” Sweet Cider said past grit teeth. Most of the Thirteenth Division consisted of Soul Reapers freshly raised to their positions from graduating the training. Some specialists might join the Twelfth of Fourth Divisions first, but the Thirteenth was usually where green Soul Reapers got their first few years of practical experience before being sent to the other divisions. As such most of the Soul Reapers watching Sweet Cider and Hurricane depart were young and inexperienced. In some ways Hurricane’s assessment wasn’t entirely off. These kids weren’t really ready for an all out fight against far more experienced Soul Reapers.
However Hurricane was seriously underestimating the tenacity of people who were loyal to their cause. For all the fear Sweet Cider saw, she saw equal levels of determination. Their Captain, a woman who tended to act like a den mother to everyone under her care, was under threat. Nothing was more dangerous than family trying to protect its own.
“You seems less eager than you were during the hearing. Having second thoughts?” said Hurricane, eyeing her sideling with narrowed eyes.
“Don’t be mistakin’ nothin’, Hurricane. I voted the way I did ‘cause I hate wastin’ time, which is all the Captain Commander’s investigation would’ve done. How do ya prove Zecora’s Zanpaktou was lyin’? Far as we know, nothin’ can fake it out. Even if ya copied someone’s reiatsu down ta the last little spirit particle, her blade is supposed ta be able to pierce through to the truth, right?”
“That is how Zecora’s Zanpaktou functions, yes.” confirmed Hurricane, “I do believe Twelfth Division has tested its capabilities extensively to verify its prowess at detecting falsehoods. So there can’t logically be any doubt that the hooded figures were in fact Captain Celestia and Luna.”
Unless someone went and somehow pulled the wool over Zecora’s eyes, managin’ ta bypass her Zanpaktou. Sweet Cider thought, but kept it to herself. She wasn’t certain who to trust anymore. If there was someone inside Soul Society who was actively betraying the Soul Reapers, somebody with the ability to manipulate Captain Zecora into believing her Zanpaktou had shown her something that wasn’t true, well there was no telling who might be responsible and where they were hiding. Any seated officer might be suspect.
But she was willing to bet if she kept playing the role of a dutiful Captain and kept a keen eye out, the real traitors would make a mistake, sooner or later.
Of course Soul Society had to survive the chaos until then, but as long as no more random factors cropped up to make things more complicated than Sweet Cider figured she could handle it.
----------
Ditzy Doo dusted off scrap pieces of smashed construct from her hands while Sunset removed her Zanpaktou from the last, still sparking machine, smoke steaming up from the construct’s twitching form as its glowing eyes flickered out.
“Well, we handled that pretty easily.” she said, sheathing her sword. It hadn’t been a long fight. Blazingly quick in fact. The moment the constructs had opened fire most of the girls had react instantly to get to cover. All of the previous battles, not to mention their training, had certainly increased their reflexes and raw speed well beyond what it had been when this had all begun. Ditzy Doo, Sunset, Clover, and Rainbow Dash had rushed the constructs through the barrage of beams they fired. Despite being made of metal, the half dozen floating hexagons with arms didn’t stand up against fist and Zanpaktou alike for more than a few seconds of hectic combat.
Which was fine by Sunset’s reckoning. They didn’t have time or energy to waste, and there were bigger hurdles ahead to worry about.
“Perhaps, but these mechanical brutes nearly scorched my hair. Good gracious, these things look so droll as well. Who designed these tasteless, bland monstrosities?” Rarity clucked, shaking her head as she idly nudged one of the destroyed constructs with her foot.
Clover cleared her throat, coughing pointedly, “They were designed for function, not aesthetics, Miss Rarity. And the spirit beam guns-”
“Lasers.” said Rainbow Dash. “Robot lasers.”
Clover grimaced, “Spirit beam guns could not have scorched anyone’s hair. They’re based on Hado-type Kido spells, but lack elemental properties. They just fire small concentrated beams of reishi. Now some of the bigger models do have elemental spells for the basis of larger cannons but-”
“Not ta be rude Clover, but right now can’t we skip the detail an’ git movin’ along, now that the ‘bots are dealt with?” asked Applejack, and Rainbow Dash flashed a smirk.
“Ha! See? AJ thinks they’re robots too.”
“Okay so you’re both wrong, because they’re not robots, but what do I know, I’m just the woman who helped design and build them.”
“Did you also program them to say ‘beep-boop’?” asked Rainbow Dash, to which Clover glanced away, muttering.
“No, that was Captain Starswirl's’... own personal flourish.”
“As much as I’m finding this conversation fascinating, I’d say it's high time we do what we came down here to do and get past this ward. Ditzy, your sure we can swim under the water to bypass the ward?” asked Sunset, turning to the woman.
“Absolutely! Mosty.” Ditzy put on a steady, reassuring smile as she wiggled her hand back and forth, “I give it sixty-forty, at worst. I mean, it's not like I’ve actually tested this theory before, but hey, you only live once. Well, twice, if you count Soul Society. Then technically infinite times if you consider the endless cycle of souls back and forth.”
“Yeah, that saying doesn’t really fit this setting does it?” said Pinkie Pie.
Rarity eyed the water suspiciously, “The water at least looks fairly clean for... for sewage. Oh I am not looking forward to this. Perhaps someone else should go first, just to make sure it's not-”
Rainbow Dash, who’d snuck up behind Rarity, proceeded to give the other girl a sharp, playful shove. Rarity proceeded to utter a entirely ladylike and dignified scream, arms cartwheeling, before going head first into the water.
Sunset gave Rainbow Dash level look, “Really, Dash?”
Rainbow Dash shrugged, “I couldn’t help it. She left herself wide open for that.”
A moment later a supporting Rarity surfaced, glaring utter death at Rainbow Dash. “You. Are. On. My. List!”
“Hey, no need to act like such a wet blanket about this. Lighten up Rarity.” said Rainbow Dash.
“I don’t now Dash,” said Applejack, putting on hand on Rainbow Dash’s back, “Maybe ya oughta git on her level.”
“Huh, that doesn't even make sennnnaaaaaah!” Rainbow Dash said, then sort of awkwardly yelled as Applejack flipped her into the water beside Rarity. Rarity, for her part, gavve Applejack an appreciative nod.
“Why thank you for that, Applejack. You are not on the list.”
“Don’t think nothin’ of it.” Applejack replied, hopping into the canal as well. One by one the other girls went in, Sunset going nearly last, right behind Ditzy herself. Sunset wasn’t a huge fan of the water, and wasn’t never much of a swimmer. It was a bit easier to do as a human rather than a pony, and she had learned how, but she being fully immersed in water made her nervous. The water was cold, just short of freezing, and had a slight current she had to tread against.
Once Ditzy hopped in she swam over to the edge of the glowing barrier marking the ward, and said, “Deep breaths. The ward is about six or seven feet across, so don’t surface until you’re sure you crossed that.”
Sunset started taking deep breaths to oxygenate her lungs as she watched her friends also take in big lungfuls of air before ducking beneath the gently flowing water. Clover waited for her, giving her a curious look.
“You know how to swim, don’t you?”
“Yes. Not great it, is all. No worries. I hope.”
Clover offered Sunset her hand, “Here, just hold on. We’ll go down together, and then just follow me lead.”
After a second of looking at the offered gray skinned hand, Sunset slowly took it, the cold water emphasising the heat of the grasp. She cleared her throat and said, “Ready when you are.”
Clover nodded once, then ducked under the water, pulling Sunset along with her. The feeling of near freezing cold enveloped her head and her hearing became muffled aside from the burbling rush of water by her head. She used her left hand to steady herself while holding Clover’s tightly with her right. She kicked her legs to propel herself along while trying to keep herself oriented. For a good ten or so seconds all Sunset knew was cold and dark, but soon enough she felt Clover pulling her upwards and Sunset’s head broke the surface of the water.
With a few quick, sputtering breaths she blinked her eyes open to find herself and her friends on the other side of the ward. The corridor over on this side looked identical to the other one, minus any constructs, destroyed or otherwise. Ditzy had already deftly climbed out of the canal and was offering the others hands up, starting with a very eager Rarity who immediately began to wring her clothes out once she was back on solid, dry ground.
“Ugh, it is a very good thing I made these outfits out of quick drying material. I do so hope we won’t have to do that again on the way out.”
“Not likely.” said Ditzy Doo, “We’re kind of in ‘do or die’ territory now. We either succeed and go home the nice, easy way, or fail and not have to worry about going home due to contracting a terminal case of sword stabbage.”
“Oh, yes, a pleasant reminder, that.” said Rarity, sighing, then offering Rainbow Dash a hand up out of the canal. Rainbow Dash, understandably, looked dubious, to which Rarity rolled her eyes.
“Oh please, darling, when I take revenge it shall be at a time less expected and more appropriate than this. Give me some credit, will you?”
“Right. Let me guess, itching powder in my bra?” Rainbow Dash queried with a half grin and quirked eyebrow as Rarity pulled her out of the water.
“Mmm, tempting idea, but I like to get creative with my revenge pranks. You’ll just have to wait and find out. And no complaining, dear, you did after all start this.”
“Yeah, guess I did. Don’t suppose an apology and shoulder massage gets me off the hook?”
“Not even remotely.”
As the crew got walking, Clover got everyone’s attention with a raised hand, “Alright, from here we should try to keep our voices down. The Fourth Division sends people down here to keep the lanterns lit and the walkways clean, and we might also run across Twelfth Division personnel heading to or from the underground labs.”
“We’re going back to the surface at the Thirteenth Division barracks, right? How far is that?” asked Sunset.
“If we move quiet but fast, should only take an hour, perhaps two.” replied Clover.
----------
Sweet Cider might have given Silverstar a promotion if that was physically possible, not that she’d ever actually tell him that. He’d not only gotten a good chunk of the Tenth Division’s Soul Reapers mustered in short order, including Third Seat Troubleshoes, a man so tall and broad he could be easily mistaken for a walking barn.
“Captain ma’am,” Troubleshoes said in his usual sulking greeting, stringy black hair matted to his plain features. Next to him Silverstar gave a curt bow, lines of alert Soul Reapers standing at attention behind him. Sweet Cider looked over her troops with a steady, appreciative gaze, then started speaking in a loud, clear voice.
“Alright ya’ll, here’s the score. In a matter o’ minutes Central 46’s decree that the Thirteenth relinquish their Zanpaktou is gonna run out o’ time an’ Third Seat Inkwell has made it clear they ain’t havin’ none o’ it. So the Eleventh is goin’ in, an’ we’re...” she paused, “Helping. With a few twists. First off, beat down any Thirteenth member who don’t surrender peaceful, but don’t kill unless ya got no choice ta protect yerselves. Furthermore, keep an’ eye on them Eleventh boys n’ gals, an’ don’t hesitate ta step in if it looks like they’re gettin’ out a’ control. Understood?”
A chorus of “Yes ma’am!” followed her query, and Sweet Cider gave an approving nod. Then she turned her attention to the other group that Silverstar had brought, and had impressed her to find he’d thought of it.
“Lieutenant Redheart, I’m also glad ta have ya an’ yer fellow Fourth Division members here. Yer not under orders, but ya came when Silverstar asked, an’ I appreciate it.”
Redheart stood alongside a group of about two dozen Fourth Division medics, each with medicine kits and healing Kido training at the ready. Sweet Cider wasn’t optimistic or naive enough to think this wasn’t going to get bloody, so having the field medics close at hand was going to be a boon. Redheart herself bowed to Sweet Cider, a grave smile touching her pale white features.
“Captain Zecora wanted me to convey her heartfelt distress that things have gotten to this point. I’m to do all I can to aid the wounded and prevent any deaths we can, regardless of which division they belong to.”
“I’m expextin’ nothin’ less. Ya have my thanks.”
Redheart’s expression turned no less grave, but she nodded with the barest of appreciative smiles. There wouldn’t be much to smile about, soon enough. Sweet Cider looked back towards the gathered forces of the Eleventh Division, who were now all mobilized and standing in ranks awaiting their Captain’s order to advance. She could see Hurricane standing tall at the head of his troops, hands clasped calmly behind his back as beside him Lieutenant Poesy kept an eye on a small hourglass that was marking the time as the two hours ran out.
Even as Sweet Cider watched the last grains of sand fell with heavy finality to the bottom of the hour glass and she heard Poesy say, “Um, Captain sir? It's time.”
“And we’ve heard nothing to indicate that the Thirteenth Division intends to lay down arms willingly.” said Hurricane, unfolding his arms and using his right hand to draw his Zanpaktou. It was a straighter blade than most katana-shaped Zanpaktou, resembling more of a longsword with a square hilt. He raised the sword above his head, voice carrying in a loud bellow.
“All Eleventh Division elements, advance and engage at will! Detain all Thirteenth Division rebels by any means required!”
Sweet Cider frowned darkly. So the Thirteenth Division were ‘rebels’ now, was it? The Eleventh Division Soul Reapers all drew their Zanpaktou in an echoing chorus of singing steel, and started to dash in tightly knit groups of ten or twenty, advancing in a fanning out wall into the forest. Hurricane’s orders were carried to the other units waiting at other sides of the forest, Soul Reapers pushing into the tree line in a black tide.
With a heavy sigh Sweet Cider ordered her own Division to follow her lead, heading in right behind the Eleventh. There was a full moon in the sky providing more than enough silvery light to illuminate the forest, even if one in every four or five Soul Reapers were carrying lanterns to light their way.
For a minute nothing happened as the Eleventh and Tenth Division advanced deeper into the trees, the Fourth Division members trailing behind cautiously. Immediately Sweet Cider’s instincts were telling her to be wary. The Thirteenth knew they were coming, and wouldn’t just lay down without a fight. What tricks could they be hiding up their sleeves?
With a swift Flash Step she advanced ahead to join Hurricane at the forefront of the advance. “Somethin’ ain’t right. They’re lettin’ us git too far in without tryin’ ta stop us.”
“Scared and hiding in their barracks,” Hurricane replied dismissively, “They’re not up for a real fight. I told you, Sweet Cider, they wouldn’t put up much resistance. We can collect their Zanpaktou and round them up without even needing to draw blood, as I suspected from the start.”
“No, Hurricane, they ain’t gonna give up that easily and they’re lettin’ us move in way too easy fer my comfort. We should send scouts ahead ta-”
But even as she made the suggestion she felt an intense increase in spiritual energy from the very ground in front of her, and saw a bright red glow as all along the forest line in front of the advancing Soul Reapers a set of complex red ward sigils appeared. She felt the reishi gathering in those ward symbols and recognized the destructive nature of the Kido spells immediately.
“Down!” She shouted, running into Hurricane and pushing him back from the wards right before they exploded in balls of expanding red fire.
The explosions went off in a chain, throwing back Soul Reapers like bales of hay. Sweet Cider felt a ringing in her hears as she picked herself up, hauling Hurricane to his feet. The man didn’t look injured, but then again it looked to Sweet Cider as if the exploding wards had been set to go off before they got close enough to be badly hurt. This was meant to rattle and confuse, not kill.
“Bastards!” Hurricane spat, his own spirit energy spiking upwards like a stormfront, “I’ll not tolerate such dirty tricks!”
“There’s probably more traps up ahead,” Sweet Cider said, hearing other distant explosions as other Soul Reapers ran across the wards. “They’re slowing us down.”
“Not for long,” Hurricaine said darkly, eyes lit up with furious anger. “Continue the advance! We’ll smash right through this treachery!”
The explosions had created a screen of smoke up ahead, and while Hurricane shouted orders to his troops, Sweet Cider noticed something. There were shapes in the smoke, flickering up into the trees like living shadows. No member of Thirteenth Division moved like that. Sweet Cider cursed under her breath.
“Look out! They’re trying to surround us!” she shouted, drawing her own Zanpaktou. It was a long and almost blunt looking blade, lacking any kind of guard or hilt, just a solid brown-leather wrapped hilt. Even as she shouted, a series of small throwing knives, kunai, came flashing through the smoke. She swung her arm in a fast, powerful arc, not holding back much of her strength, as she was now getting truly angry.
The force of her swing created a shockwave of force that not only knocked away the kunai that’d been flying at her head, but blasted away the smoke as well. By now the recovered Eleventh Division Soul Reapers, and her own Soul Reapers behind them, could see what awaited them.
The Thirteenth Division’s’ Soul Reapers were waiting in a solid line a good fifty paces deeper into the forest, Zanpaktou drawn. Inkwell stood at the head of the group, expression saddened but grimly determined. And they weren’t alone. In the trees above the Thirteenth Division and all around the flanks of the advancing Eleventh and Tenth Division Soul Reapers were dozens of figures in solid black clothes, hoods, and masks. This shadowy figures bore Zanpaktou as well, but also various other tools of their trade including bandoliers of the kunai that had been thrown at Sweet Cider.
“It’s the Second Division, Sealth Corps,” Sweet Cider growled.
It looked like the ones loyal to Luna had been hiding with the Thirteenth Division after all, and now she and Hurricane had a lot more resistance to contend with. But that wasn’t going to stop Hurricane, who even seeing the Second Division reinforcements, simply put on a grim look as he pointed own Zanpaktou ahead and shouted, “All forces, attack!”
And with that, the battle began in earnest.
----------
“Here we are.” said Clover, leading Sunet and the others down one last corridor leading to a set of identical stairs to the ones they’d used to enter the sewers. Sunset was relieved they’d gotten this far without too much trouble, but it was offset with the realization that the real challenges started here. She was both worried, and warmly excited.
“So once we go up, we’ll be in the Thirteenth Division barracks, yes?” asked Rarity, “What exactly is our plan from there?”
“I was going to talk with the Thirteenth Division’s Third Seat,” said Ditzy Doo, “Inkwell is a pretty reasonable sort, and if she’s taking a firm stance against the execution she might be willing to help us get to the Repentance Cells where Celestia and Luna are being held. Failing that, we do our best to sneak as far as we can, and when stealth fails, we go the rest of the way swinging. I can keep at least one or two Captains off you girls, if it comes to that. Right now all that matters is freeing those two. We do that, they should be able to help deal with the rest.”
Applejack licked her lips, hands flexing into fists, “Well let’s git to it then! Open up them doors already!”
Clover nodded and felt for the hidden stone buttons, pressing in a coded sequence once more. With a quiet grinding of stone the doors at the top of the stairs opened... and the moment they did the sounds of battle spilled down to the girls. There was a heavy wave of clashing steel, energy discharges, shouts and screams, all mixed in one unending ocean of noise.
Ditzy Doo blinked. “Well... that's a thing.”
“It’s already started,” said Clover, face paling, “The Eleventh Division must have launched it's attack.”
“What do we do?” asked Fluttershy, gulping.
Sunset looked to her friends, and put on a blazing smile, drawing Hokori.
“What do we do? Isn’t it obvious? We fight!”