//------------------------------// // In Search of Truth and Justice 4 // Story: Truthseeker // by RB_ //------------------------------// “Can you see ‘em yet?” Lyra raised her binoculars to her eyes and looked towards the base of the hills. “Nothing yet!” she called down to Fiddlesticks, who was sitting at the base of the boulder Lyra had claimed as her lookout. “Well, keep an eye out,” Silver called up. “We need to be ready as soon as they start to leave the hills!” “Roger that!” While Lyra kept her eyes on the hills, Silver turned back to the others. “Now, y’all remember the plan, right?” he asked. “Of course.” “Oui.” “Yes, sir.” Silver blinked. “Sir? It’s been a long time since anypony called me ‘sir’.” Bon Bon winced. “Sorry. Old habits.” “S’alright; I kinda like it!” He turned to Scout. “You all ready, old friend?” The buffalo grunted and nodded, the markings he had painted onto his face wrinkling with his brow. “Great!” Silver spun about. “Now we just need to wait for our quarry to get here. Lyra, still nothin’?” Lyra gave the base of the hills another pass. “Still no sign of them!” She lowered her binoculars and looked down at Silver. “Are you sure you’ve got the right stretch of desert?” “Stampede’s always come through here! Just keep your binoculars peeled for the dust cloud!” “You got it,” Lyra said. She went back to her watch. The Macintosh Hills were largely uninteresting to look at; large, reddish heaps of rock and earth that were too big to be hills, really, but not quite tall enough to be mountains. Really, Lyra thought, they weren’t even that red, more of a muddy red-brown. So they didn’t live up to the first part of their name, either. Unless the pony who discovered them was named Macintosh… Boy, I could really go for an apple right now… Or, even better, a nice cold glass of apple juice! Celestia, why is it so hot? Worst vacation ever. As Lyra’s attention began to wander, so too did her thoughts. Specifically, they wandered to that morning—and Silver’s plan. ───── “Alright, everypony,” Silver said. The others crowded around the map he’d spent the last twelve minutes drawing in the dust. “Here’s the plan.” “We’ll set up here, he said, pointing at a spot near the bottom middle of the map. He then gestured to the hills, represented by a line of rocks. “The stampede’ll be coming out of the hills, probably somewhere around here,” he said, pointing to a small gap. “It shouldn’t be hard to tell when they get here, though; the dust cloud they’ll kick up will be a dead giveaway. Still, we’ll need a lookout; Lyra, Fiddle, that’ll be your job. You can decide on shifts between yourselves. “Once the stampede gets here, it’ll be our turn. Scout and I will take the front. We’ll wrangle the leaders and try and lead the pack around, back towards the hills. “Octavia, Fleur, Bon Bon, you three are the second line.” He drew a line across the map with his hoof, bisecting it. “Ya’ll’ll be dealing with the ones who don’t stick with the rest of the herd. Don’t let anything get past you.” He gave Fleur and Octavia a stern look. “Now, I know you two are fond of putting down your prey, but you both know that’s not how we do things ‘round here. Drive ‘em back into the pack if you can. Same goes for you, Bon Bon. Killing’s a last resort, understand?” They all stated their agreement. “Good.” He smiled. “Between the five of us, I don’t we’ve got anythin’ to worry about.” Fiddlesticks snorted. “Between the five of us? Well, then between the eight of us, it’ll be easier n’ leading a cow to honey on milkin’ day!” Silver and Scout both winced, each adopting the look of someone who has just bitten into a moldy piece of fruit. They both turned to face Fiddlesticks, but it was Scout who spoke up. “Sticky, no.”   ───── “Lyra! Anything yet?” “Still nothing!” she shouted, making what must have been her hundredth pass. And then: “Wait…” she said. She refocused, and there it was: a roiling cloud of dust, just emerging from a gap in the hills. “I see them! Just to the left of us, between the hills!” Everypony on the ground below immediately stopped what they were doing and looked to the south. “She is right,” Scout said. “I can feel them.” “Alright, everypony!’ Silver shouted. “That’s our cue! Let’s get this done!” He took off at a gallop, Scout following and quickly catching up. They charged directly at the distant dust cloud, kicking up smaller ones of their own. The others weren’t far behind, Fleur, Bon Bon, and Octavia running together after the pair. As they passed, Lyra caught a glimpse of their faces. Bon Bon’s expression was serious, but Fleur and Octavia both wore matching grins, even despite their current distance on the food chain. If anything, Fleur’s smile was even more predatory than the wolf’s. “Good luck!” Lyra called out after them. “You won’t need it, but I’m giving it to you anyway!” A scraping sound made her look to her left, where Fiddlesticks was scrabbling up the side of the boulder to join her. The changeling plopped down beside Lyra and pulled out her own pair of binoculars. “Time for the show!” she said. “Too bad you didn’t pack any popcorn.” “Darn, I knew I was forgettin’ something!” She knocked a hoof against her forehead. “Ah well, there’s always next year. Say, care to make a little wager?” “A bet?” “Yep! Twenty bits says Fleur fends off more beasties than Octavia.” Lyra grinned. “Make that Bon Bon instead of Octavia, and you’re on!” They shook on it, then eagerly returned to their binoculars. The second line had formed, now. Octavia stood on the far left of the plain, Fleur on the far right, and Bon Bon directly between them. Off in the distance, a pair of dots ran towards the approaching dust cloud; Lyra trained her binoculars on them. She could see Silver and Scout, the pair galloping forward at full speed. But she could also see the stampede itself, emerging from the dust, a scrambling mess of limbs and beaks and tails and mouths and Celestia knew what else that pounded unyieldingly forward. And then… Contact. Silver and Scout met the spearhead of the stampede from either side, jumping in and forcing the leaders off course. The stampede began to bend as the rest of the pack followed, and gradually their charge began to wrap around, cutting a wide curve across the plain and back towards the hills. But not all the abominations stayed with the herd. Several handfuls of the beasts broke off in clumps from the pack and stayed their forward course towards civilization. Of course, they’d have to get through the second line first. The first and largest group to break off was on Octavia’s side. They charged at her, and she charged at them, teeth bared and claws ready. A few of the smaller ones at the back turned tail just at the sight of her; those that remained would soon wish they’d followed. She descended onto the pack in a fury, her claws tearing ribbons into the beasts’ hides. One of them got a little too close; Octavia whipped her head around, sank her teeth into its shoulder, and flung it away from the melee. It scampered away with its tail between its legs. Fiddlesticks nudged Lyra’s shoulder and pointed to the other side of the plain, where another pack of the creatures was bearing down on Fleur. Fleur drew a sabre from her side; its blade flashed and glinted in the sun as she ran towards her prey. Lyra could certainly see how she’d earned the ‘graceful’ part of her moniker. Fleur didn’t so much fight as she did dance, her blade whirling as she ducked, weaved, and leapt between her opponents. A long, whip-like tail lashed out at her, but was severed faster than Lyra could blink. Just as quickly as the beasts had come, they turned tail, long slashes and shallow wounds marring their bodies. For just a moment, Lyra felt just the tiniest bit worried about her wager. But only for a moment, because then Bon Bon met her first group. The first creature to meet her was a hulking beast, with legs like tree trunks and skin like old leather. It reared up as it approached, ready to crush her beneath its feet. It came down on nothing, and got a heavy buck to the ribs for its trouble, followed by another for good measure. The beast stumbled, scrabbling about to try and regain its balance, giving Bon Bon enough time to position herself below its miniature head. With a shout, she smashed her hooves into its jaw, and Lyra could swear she saw it lift off the ground slightly from the impact. The creature didn’t stick around long enough for round two. “Yeah! You show ‘em, Bonnie!” Lyra shouted. “Woo!” Bon Bon looked back and grinned at her, then returned to the task at hand. Just in time, too, as she immediately had to dodge out of the way of a mouth on a long, serpentine neck. The beast pulled back for another strike, its needle-like teeth bared, but Bon Bon was ready for it. As it darted forward, she leapt up, wrapped her hooves around its windpipe, landed behind its body and pulled. The beast was flipped onto its back, its large chicken feet doggy-paddling through the air as it tried to recover. Fiddlesticks whistled. “She is good.” “Like there was ever any doubt!” Lyra said. “Bonnie! Your left!” Bon Bon had seen it too; while she’d been focused on the last monster, another had run past on legs that jointed in all the wrong places. She grimaced and uncoiled her grappling hook. Swinging it about with her foreleg, she tossed it after the runner. It looped once around its neck and caught. Grinding her hooves into the dirt, Bon Bon stopped it in its tracks. The thing screeched and tugged at its leash, but Bon Bon wasn’t budging. “Now she’s just showin’ off!” Fiddlesticks said. A pair of wings, half bird and half butterfly, uncurled from the creature’s back. They rose up high, ready to flap. Bon Bon tightened her grip on her rope, ready to pull it back down to the ground before it could get airborne. And that’s when everything went wrong. When the beast flapped its wings, instead of taking to the air, it vanished. It reappeared moments later, some forty meters ahead of Bon Bon—and right in front of Lyra. It took Lyra a full three seconds to realize she wasn’t on the rock anymore, just in time for the impact with the ground to knock the breath from her lungs. Dirt and rubble clattered to the ground around her like rain. The beast landed over her, its feet crushing the ground on either side of her barrel. Its hooked beak darted down and screeched at her. Dazed as she was, Lyra couldn’t even scream. Luckily, somepony else was around to do it for her. Screaming at the top of her lungs, Fiddlesticks dropped down onto the beast from behind, her hooves wrapping around its neck. The creature shrieked again and stumbled back. “Whoa nelly! That’s it, you no-good varmint!” Fiddlesticks struggled to hold on as the creature tried to throw her off. It tried to unfurl its wings again, but the changeling’s body kept them pinned. “Whoa!” “Get clear!” Lyra looked towards the sound of the voice and saw Bon Bon, charging towards them at full gallop. “She’s all yours!” Fiddlesticks shouted as she leapt off the beast, diving to the dirt and rolling several feet. Bon Bon ran in, ducked down, and kicked the creature’s legs out from under it, sending it toppling to the dirt. Her hoof came down on the creature’s skull. Once, twice, three times. Crunch. She wasted no more time before dashing over to Lyra. “Lyra! Are you okay?” “Ugh… yeah, I think so.” She winced. “Probably gonna be sore for a few days, but it doesn’t feel like anything’s broken.” “Here, let me help—” Lyra waved her off. “Bonnie, I’m fine. You have a job to do.” “But—” Fiddlesticks walked up and laid a hoof on Bon Bon’s shoulder. “She’s right, Bon Bon. There’s more of them critters that need dealin’ with. Appleoosa’s countin’ on you.” Bon Bon looked at Lyra. She looked at Fiddlesticks. She sighed. “Right.” She turned to go, but then stopped. “You’re sure…?” “I’m sure. Go get ‘em, Bonnie.” As Bon Bon galloped back into the fight, Fiddlesticks looked down at Lyra. “Are you okay?” “Yeah,” Lyra said. “I’m just… just gonna lie here for a while.” “Suit yourself.” “Thanks, by the way.” “S’ no problem at all. You just rest up.” Lyra let her head fall back to the dirt and let the sun warm her eyelids. The pain in her back slowly lessened to a dull ache. The sounds of the others fighting drifted across the plain, mixed intermittently with growls, squawks, and all manner of cries in between. And then a skittering sound, much closer than the others, met her ears. Lyra cracked one eye open and looked to her left. A beetle-like thing, about the size of a bowling ball and covered in white fuzz, was scurrying past about two feet away from her. Lyra rolled over and placed her hoof on top of the thing’s shell, pinning it to the ground. “Where do you think you’re going?” she said. “Away!” the thing said, in a shrill, grating voice. “Away!” Lyra hadn’t been expecting a reply, so she wasn’t really sure what to say to that. So, she settled for the first words that came to mind. “Oh peanuts.”