The D.S.P.I.

by DungeonMiner


Operation Patient Serpent

“Alright ponies!” Sweetie Belle said as the DASH-1 opened its cargo door. “We get in, clear the building, get out! Those are our orders, so let’s put some Covenant down!”
 
The DASH-1 hovered over the Las Pegasus skyscraper, and the squad quickly dropped to the roof. Silver landed hard, and raised his pneumatic crossbow to check the rooftop. “Sniper, what’s below us?”
 
Silk was exactly 453 yards away, on a different rooftop, her longrifle and new eyes scanning the floor below them. “I’m not seeing anything directly below from this side, but I do see a target one floor beneath that.”
 
“Okay, keep him in your sights, but do not engage until we have.”
 
“I know, I know,” she said, “-this isn’t my first rodeo.”
 
“Hey, Assault,” Lemon said as she loaded her flash cocktails, “Quit talking to your marefriend and get ready.”
 
“She’s not—I-it’s not like that!” Silver said, realizing that he was perhaps louder than he needed to be.
 
Also probably blushing.
 
“Oh, come on,” Neon said, pulling his mic away to talk without being heard by the mare herself. “We all know you joined Project Firebrand as her emotional support.”
 
“Enough chatter!” Sweetie said, hovering above them. “We’re moving in. Scout, Agent, take the stairs, I’ll go straight down and report back with what I see. Understood?”
 
“Yes, ma’am!” Silver said. “You heard the mare, Scout, move out.”
 
Sparky nodded, before his internal camo transformed him. His skin and fur rippled and shifted as the melanin in his skin was being altered by a new enzyme, and before their very eyes, he disappeared.
 
Not completely, you understand, but enough. A shimmer in the air was all the gathered ponies could see as Sparky made his way to the door, and slipped inside, down the roof-access stairs.
 
Mandible was better hidden, his mirror cloak making him completely invisible to the naked eye. Sparky was certainly good, but Mandible was better.
 
Sweetie Belle smiled. “Alright, if I’m not back in 5, something happened.” She said before she disappeared into the floor.
 
“Alright, like we trained, we wait for Scout or Agent’s clear signal and we move to the next floor. On his not clear signal, we wait for a regroup, and clear it room by room, secure the stairs to the next floor, and either hope that they don’t notice, or that they come to us so we can mow them down.”
 
“We get it!” Neon said. “We’ve done this for a month!”
 
“We cleared rooms a month,” Silver corrected. “A refresher on the process leading up to that won’t hurt.”
 
Las Pegasus was alive, even during the night. The bright, yellow bridges that allowed the earth-borne races to walk the cloud streets were filled with unicorns and pegasi eager to spend their bits at tables and shows. In a place that thrived on money so much, he was hardly surprised that the Covenant could buy the use of a few floors.
 
Of course, they were idiots, because the love of money does not mean you want to see the end of the world.
 
So a little bird came by Spike’s ear and sang him a pretty song of a bunch of ponies that were painting runes on the floor in the top four floors of the Royal Rose Casino.

           The entire team suddenly heard a pair of clicks on the radio, the sound of a mic being tapped gently by a hoof. The first floor was clear. “Let’s move,” Silver said, leveling his crossbow at the stairs.
 
They moved slowly, coming down the stairs carefully so they didn’t make too much noise, they couldn’t count on the crowds or the slots to mask them so high up.
 
They fanned out into the floor, taking the halls at practiced points, double checking Sparky and Mandible’s work as they went. The first floor was clear.
 
Just as they finished, another tap was heard over the radio. One tap. The next floor was not clear.
 
Silver led the others back to the stairwell and waited for the scout and agent to regroup with them.
 
It took a few, long minutes, before Sparky arrived, and another long minute after that before Mandible showed up. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, raising his blood-drenched obsidian knife along with a new, ruby one. “There was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”
 
“You’re supposed to wait, not give us away, Agent!” Silver hissed.
 
“Don’t worry, everything’s fine, I’m a professional,” he said. “Sniper can back me up on that, right?”
 
“I’m not seeing any activity,” Silk confirmed. “Just let me know when you’re in position and I’ll open fire.”
 
Silver sighed. “Alright, we move up, like we practiced.”
 
They began to move, with Chestnut immediately breaking away to secure the stairs from the floor below while the rest began to move out. They divided into two small fireteams of no more than three: Silver with Neon and Mandible, and Sparky with Amber and Lemon. Both took a corridor,  and began to make their way down between the faux walls that had been set up as dividers for who knows what.
 
They slid forward, the agent and scout both leading each team.
 
“Scout,” Silk whispered into the radio mic, “You’re closing in on the first target, on the left. Once you make contact, I’ll take him out. Focus on any other contacts, don’t worry about the left.”
 
Three taps to the mic was all she needed for an answer.
 
From 453 yards away, through her 20x scope, Silk watched as the thermal signatures of the scout fireteam moved closer and closer to the lone covenant pony. She didn’t need the scope to see that, of course. She could make this shot with the iron sights now, but the scope was already keyed in, so she didn’t see a need to change it.
 
Besides, old habits die hard.
 
Sparky was closing the distance fast. He was going to hit the cultist in seconds, and the manure would officially hit the fan. She took a deep breath, and lined up her sights. This wasn’t a hard shot for her under normal circumstances, but with her eyes it was now as simple as a 5 yard shot. Still, she had to make sure it would take him down. None of this, ‘missed his heart by an inch’ stuff, this had to put the pony down.
 
Three seconds to contact.
 
Breath in.
 
Two seconds.
 
Breath out.
 
One.
 
A scorching beam of heat flew across the Las Pegasus sky, a red-hot shot that hit the window, passed through, and vaporized the cultist’s head before he even knew what was happening.
 
That was it.
 
Contact was made.
 

===ᐁ===

Silver and Neon both slammed into a room, sweeping their crossbows across it’s whole space with practiced precision while Mandible held the hallway. “Clear!” Silver yelled, before taking the lead, as Covenant cultists began to fill the hallways.
 
Thermal Shot rounds hissed through the window, setting the dividers on fire as Silk picked her targets.
 
The heavy, staccato thud of Chestnut’s mini cannon roared from the stairway, mowing down ponies as they tried to climb.
 
A pair of ponies moved into the hallway, scared out of their minds, and they both went down like sacks of potatoes. Another room to the right, and they slammed into it hard. Two bolts hit the ponies against the burning far wall, and a scorching ray shot through it like it was tissue paper. The sprinklers turned on, dousing everyone in water as the firefight continued.
 
Far below, an alarm sounded, and panicked screams filled the air.
 
Silver broke out, turning back down the hallway as another pony stood, flintlock pistol out and shaking.
 
Silver made it quick.
 
It sickened him to see what this covenant did to these ponies. Militarized and zealous beyond doubt and fear, they attacked and would stop either until they’re dead, or the ponies they’re shooting at were.
 
He slammed open another door, and was met with a flash of light.
 
“Assault!” Neon yelled as he filled the pony that just shot Silver in the face with bolts.
 
“Assault?” Silk’s voice called over the radio, worry filling her voice.
 
“Ow,” Silver said. “That’s going to be a headache tomorrow.”
 
“Hey, you’re not dead,” Mandible said, using his magic to pick the unicorn up, “that’s more than what most ponies can say after being shot point-blank.”
 
A sigh came over the radio from Silk’s side, before she spoke up. “Um, guys? I just saw a massive thermal signature appear on the fourth floor down.”
 
“It appeared?” Silver asked.
 
“Out of nowhere,” she confirmed.
 
A head suddenly appeared through the floor. “There you are!”
 
“What’s the news, Siren?” Silver asked.
 
“We have some friends coming up from a few floors down, we’re going to go home soon at this rate.”
 
“Friends?”
 
“You’ll see!” she said, before she floated away towards the stairs.
 
“We’re clear!” Sparky yelled from the other side of the burning dividers.
 
“We clear down here,” Silver yelled back.
 
“Uh...boss?” Chestnut said through the radio. “We, uh...you might want to see this.”
 
“I’m coming,” Silver said, nursing his head.
 
The team began to gather, getting ready for the next floor. All the way until they got to the stair case.
 
And then they stopped.
 
And they stared.
 
“What are you looking at?” A deep, growling voice emanated from the taller, red dragon at the landing.
 
Any answer that Silver and the others could have given him was then cut off by the smaller, teal one with a strange cane. “Garble, be polite.” She said, before turning to the ponies and smiling. “Hello there, allow me to introduce myself, I am Dragon Lord Ember, and this is my bodyguard, Garble.”
 
“Why are we going to ask for their help? They’re just a bunch of lousy ponies,” Garble muttered.
 
“Garble,” she said, chidingly. “Apologize.”
 
“Oh, come on!” He whined.
 
“Hug that pony and apologize,” she ordered, as she pointed to Silver.
 
Garble groaned, and climbed the stairs before he grabbed Silver, hoisted him in the air, and squeezed him. “I’m sorry and I hate you.”
 
“Garble…” Ember chided again.
 
The red dragon mumbled before dropping Silver.
 
“So Ember,” Sweetie Belle said as she floated past. “What brings you here?”
 
Ember smiled. “I want to talk to Spike.”
 

===ᐁ===

“What are you doing here, Ember?” Spike asked.
 
“I came to talk to you.” she said innocently as she twirled the Bloodstone Scepter.
 
“So you’ve said,” Spike noted. “But why?”
 
“What? I can’t come and help my Dragon Lord?” she asked.
 
Spike groaned, as if he head been waiting and dreading this very conversation. “I’m not the Dragon Lord, Ember, you are.”
 
The Scepter stopped spinning. “And yet we both know that you were the one gifted with the knowledge, secrets, and inner flame to rule them. I didn’t get those.”
 
“They aren’t that important, Ember,” Spike told her repeating his point from a hundred previous conversations.
 
She gave a snort, and a cloud of smoke began to fill his office. “Either way, I’ve decided I’d come by and see how you were doing. Shoot the breeze, and all that other crazy pony stuff.”
 
“Fine,” Spike grunted. “So what did you want to talk about?”
 
“Well, I heard that you were dealing with some crazier ponies than usual, and it just so happens that we have some nutjobs down in the dragon lands that need taking care of.”
 
Spike sighed. “Ember, I’m not an asylum service.”
 
"I should hope not," she retorted, with a grim smirk. "We're looking for more of a 'dead pony removal service' than anything."
 
“Ember, look, it’s—”
 
“They’ve gotten dragons on their side, Spike,” Ember said. “I can’t give them orders.”
 
Silence fell over the office as the two dragons stared at each other.
 
“I need the real Dragon Lord, Spike.”
 
“That’s not me,” Spike said.
 
“You can’t keep running from this Spike.”
 
“I’m not running,” Spike growled.
 
“You are the real Dragon Lord, Spike. You can’t ignore that. You are the best Dragon Lord we could possibly have, and you are running from it. The dragons need you.”
 
“My family needs me,” Spike growled again.
 
“Family? You’re talking about your girlfriend under glass. She’s not family, she’s—”
 
“Leave. Her. Out of this,” the Commander ordered.
 
Ember felt her lips shut, and her throat tightened anytime she even thought about the mare.
 
“Th-th—” she hissed, trying to speak. “The-they’re holding you back,” she finally said, her vocal chords loosening once she said “holding.”
 
“They need me, Ember. I’ve told you this a hundred times. I cannot leave them. I will not abandon the country my family fought for.”
 
Ember snorted again. “I know…” she muttered angrily. “It’s just not fair that you’re going to let us fall apart when you’re the best Dragon Lord we can ask for.”
 
There was a long second of silence, and Spike sighed.
 
“Ember,” Spike began, “I made you the Dragon Lord because no one would listen to some runt that grew up with ponies, even if they had to. You listen, and that makes you the best Dragon Lord in history.”
 

===ᐁ===

Silver worked quickly and quietly, cleaning his pneumatic crossbow and checking the o-rings as he set his kit down in the corner of his room.
 
He’d just make sure that everything was as it should be before hitting the hay, and then it would be up at the usual time for yet more missions and training.
 
His door suddenly slammed open, and he jumped a full foot into the air, before he turned to see Silk standing in the doorway. “What’s this about me not being your marefriend?”
 
And just like that, Silver was in more danger than any of his previous missions to date.
 
“Uh…” he began.
 
“What is this about me not being your marefriend?” she repeated.
 
“I...um…”
 
She stepped into the room, slamming the door shut behind her and closing the distance. “Yes?” she asked.
 
“I...wasn’t sure if you wanted to move that fast?” he said, speaking slowly enough that he could test each word as he said it.
 
“And what makes you think I didn’t?” she asked, angrily.
 
“Um. I just didn't understand your intentions?” he offered, before he felt Silk’s lips press against his.
 
She pulled back, smiling with half-lidded eyes. “Have I made my intentions clear now?”
 
“Yup,” nodding stupidly.
 
“Good,” she said, before kissing him again, “and who am I?”
 
“My marefriend.”
 
“Correct answer,” she said, before she pulled him into a long embrace.
 

===ᐁ===

Garble was bored.
 
Why did the runt have to like ponies so much?
 
Why did the Boss like the runt so much?
 
Like, honestly, if he could get rid of the runt, all his problems would disappear. The Boss would stop all the sighing and whining she does when she thinks no one is listening. She would cut out this whole “talk and listen to each other” stuff she’s been pushing; and get back to some good, old fashioned “fight for what’s yours” negotiation.
 
He wandered around the runt’s little pony cave, so bored he couldn’t even sleep in the little guest bedroom that was offered to him and the Boss.
 
Besides, he had to go around and point out how stupid all this pony stuff was.
 
Like that empty room there, with the white tiles and the bright yellow line that said not to cross. First of all, why have an empty room? You could use that to store junk at least, but no, it just sat there empty. And then there was the line. Why have a room and not allow anybody to use most of it? That’s stupid.
 
Yup the whole thing was stupid. Stupid ponies.
 
You know what another stupid thing the ponies had? That stupid noise that kept ringing through the complex.
 
Garble, as bored as he was, figured he might as well spend time finding the source of the noise, if for no other reason than to point out how stupid it was to someone later.
 
He kept wandering, looking into the scorched rooms when he finally found Spike. He stood at a bench, with a variety of stupid pony weapons around him, and was taking aim at a bunch of targets at the far end of a long room.
 
“What are you doing up?” Spike asked without turning to face him.
 
Garble frowned. “I’m bored, and I can’t sleep in your stupid little pony beds.”
 
Spike gave a grunt as a response, before picking up a pneumatic crossbow. He didn’t say a word as he fired the silver-tipped, yew wood bolts ll down range, and hit the pony-sized target with ease.
 
“So why are you up, Runt?” Garble asked, so bored he decided he might as well ridicule the little dragon.
 
“I don’t sleep much,” Spike answered, before he emptied the crossbow and traded it for a small, hand-sized pistol that shot needles of hard magic.
 
Garble blinked.
 
That...that almost sounded cool.
 
We can’t have the runt being cool.
 
That’s just...not cool.
 
He needed something that he could pull, something that would make the runt show his true colors.
 
“So, are you and your pony friends going to come? Or did the Boss come all this way for nothing?”
 
“No,” Spike said.
 
“You’re not coming? Figures. I guess you’re too much of a coward to—”
 
“They’re not coming, it’s just going to be me,” Spike said, setting the handgun aside to pick up a TS longrifle. “My team may be able to take on one dragon. More than that, and it’ll be a bloodbath.”
 
Dang it…
 
Uh…
 
“Heh, whatever,” Garble mumbled, trying to play it off. “Look, if you’re playing it cool to impress the Boss, you can go ahead and drop it. She’s taken.”
 
Spike blinked, but did not stop firing as another scorching shot dug through the target. “Really? That’s news to me.”
 
“Yeah, she and I—”
 
Spike chuckled. “No.”
 
Garble paused. “What?”
 
“You are not her type,” Spike said.
 
“And how do you know what her type is?” Garble asked.
 
“How do you think?” Spike responded.
 
Garble’s eye twitched. “Listen, Runt.”
 
“No, you listen, Garble,” Spike said as he set the rifle down. “You’ve seemed to mistake me for someone that cares about your little crawl to alphadom. I don’t care. I’ve spent the last two hundred years fighting things faster than you, stronger than you, and most certainly smarter than you. You, and your pathetic little attempts to prove to anyone that you matter, mean nothing to me, and the sooner you realize that, the sooner we can move onto more important things.”
 
Garble blinked and snarled. “Shut up, Runt. You don’t get to tell me—”
 
Garble moved, his claw coming down on the smaller, purple dragon in a vicious strike. And then, the next thing he knew, he was on his back. By the time the red dragon blinked, he could just barely see Spike through the purple dragon’s back claws as he pinned him to the ground.
 
He couldn’t move. His head was stuck beneath Spike’s foot, and his arm was twisted awkwardly behind his back.
 
“Wow…” Spike said, so unimpressed that a computer has more emotion in its tone, “You’re not... even stronger than me.”
 
Garble tried, until he felt his wrist begin to bend at a threatening angle.
 
“Don’t. I don't want to explain to your boss that you fell down a flight of stairs and broke your wrist. Just listen, and maybe try to comprehend what I’m going to say if it doesn’t burn your brain out. I don’t care about what you do, just leave me out of it. Got it?”
 
And then Spike released the dragon and left, taking a rifle, and his number one assistant with him.
 

===ᐁ===

Silver slowly woke from his sleep.
 
The habit of waking early, that had been drilled into him as a Royal Guard just wasn’t going to give up easily, it seemed.
 
He shifted, and a moment later, Silk shifted beside him, still snoring away.
 
Yes, all things considering, she had defined their relationship rather well. Now all he had to do was let the Commander know.
 
Honestly, he was not looking forward to it. Chances were one of them was going to be switched out from someone in another team. That’s what the Royal Guard would do. No fraternization! Focus on your job!
 
Still, the chances of hiding a relationship like this were very, very small. It would not go over well if Spike were to found out—
 
His door slammed open. Silk woke up screaming, before literally trying to blend into the wall as her internal camouflage activated. Silver fell out of his cot, and blinked, bewildered and blinded as light flooded his room.
 
“Morning, Silk,” Spike said, before turning back to Silver. “Silver, if we’re under attack, you’re leading the defense until I get back.”
 
“Sir?” Silver asked, still wondering what was going on.
 
“I’m heading to the dragon lands. You’re leading the defense until I get back. Do I need to repeat myself again?”
 
“N-no, sir.”
 
“Good. You two have fun,” Spike said.
 
“You’re...not mad about it?” Silver asked, confused.
 
“Why would I be?” Spike asked. “You’re shooting blanks, she couldn’t use them even if they weren’t, and you're both probably going to die anyway.” Spike said, turning away and walking down the hall as he carried a TS Longrifle and a pneumatic crossbow on his back.
 
“Heck,” he whispered, “Maybe having someone watching your back just might save you one day.”