//------------------------------// // Chapter 23: What do I Get? Guard Duty // Story: A Long Way to Fall // by Cinders of War //------------------------------// Morning Blade returned to Canterlot High School early the next morning, watching as snow began to fall from the sky. She stretched out an arm gently and watched as the snow landed on her palm, melting from her body heat. “How normal all this is after so long…” she breathed, a cloud of mist forming in front of her face. In no time, she was in the school building, standing by their trophy case, looking at all the awards CHS has ever won. She found one silver trophy by the track team, back when she was still studying here. They had won all the way until they lost to Crystal Prep Academy in the finals. Morning smiled at the thought. Crystal Prep always emerged on top. “Good morning, Morning Blade.” The ex-Assassin turned around, spotting Twilight Sparkle walking in, brushing snow from her head. “Cold day, huh?” “Quite.” Morning nodded in agreement. “But I am used to the cold. We Assassins worked on many a cold night. She followed behind the lavender-skinned girl as they traversed down the school halls, heading back to the room they’ve been using to tell Frigid Night’s story. “So, what are we in for today, Morning?” Twilight asked on the way. “Oh for the book?” Morning Blade tapped her backpack. “I believe we’re skipping ahead again. There wasn’t much I could find out about what happened directly after, but Dewdrop joined the Brotherhood. I don’t know much about how, but I do know she was from a gang over in Trottingham.” “Gang, huh?” Twilight creased her eyebrows. “She wasn’t a good person?” “We’re not good people, princess.” Morning looked down, a shadow passing over her face. “We may fight to protect our world’s freedom, but do not mistaken us for heroes. We are far from them. We’ve all done things we’ve regretted. Killing, for one.” “Umm, sorry. I didn’t think of it like that.” “Neither did I, until recently…” Morning sighed. “Anyway, I don’t quite know the specifics of Dewdrop’s initiation into the Brotherhood, but I heard she had wiped out the gang leaders in Trottingham. All of them, before joining up with us.” “Wow. Quite the Assassin, huh? That Dewdrop.” “Tell me about it.” Morning smiled and pulled at her braid. They soon arrived at their regular room, pulling up a couple of chairs to sit for the day. Morning set her bag down and retrieved the journal from it, running her fingers along its surface before flipping it open. There was so much to remember from this book. She was going to treasure it for the rest of her life. “Now, where were we?” 2 years later Timber primed the machine again, watching as the lights started turning green one by one, indicating the ‘Eye’, as they had taken to calling it, was ready to be used. It was a large cone shaped machine, wide at the bottom and small at the top. At least a dozen buttons outlined the front of it, along with a set of lights above them. A small rectangle bore through the machine in the middle, with a small circular holder, made just for the artifact. “Test number thirteen,” the scientist spoke into a small recorder. “We’ve attuned the power to fifty volts and are ready to proceed with the test.” He signalled to Test Tube, who pulled down on the lever at the opposite end of the safe room. Electric sparked across the machine, the beeping on Timber’s monitor growing louder by the second. “Stabilizing…” he muttered into the recorder. “The energy level is maintaining at sixty percent. Higher than the last.” “Should we add more power?” Test Tube called from his corner as electric sparked across his vision, forcing him back behind one of the desks as the switch started spouting out volts of electricity. Timber grumbled but quickly hit the emergency shutdown button, watching as the meter on his right started lowering back down to zero. “Test failed. Our facilities need an upgrade, it would seem.” He sighed and put the recorder down, walking over to inspect the damage the Eye had caused. “Another failure…” Test Tube grabbed a pair of rubber gloves and flipped the lever back to its original position. “What are we going to tell Mahogany? Is this even going to work out?” “Of course it will!” Timber barked at the other scientist. "We've come too far to fail now. We've got to get it to work." Just then, the door opened, revealing the white haired Quantum as he strolled in with a small envelope. "We've got another one." Timber reached out and took it from his associate, getting to work on the seal. Their mysterious friend was a very secretive one. Every test they had run on the pieces of paper could not find any clues as to who was sending them the letters. No fingerprints, blood, or locations, but they seemed serious in joining the Order, and the checks that sometimes accompanied the envelopes went a long way to funding their research. "Let's see what they want this time." Timber eyed the words as he read through the paper, his brow growing lower as he processed the letters in his mind. "What does it say now?" Quantum tried to get a glimpse of the parchment. "What do they want?" Timber looked up at his associates. "They want a meeting." Frigid Night lay on his back atop the Bureau, watching the stars without much interest. Beside him, High Noon sat up cleaning his revolver. “Man, I hate guard duty...” High Noon groused. He slid the gun back into his holster and peered into the cooler of root beer he’d dragged up with them. “Who the hay would even want to come up here anyway?” Frigid accepted a can from High Noon and they mock-toasted before leaning back against the slanted roof to drink. “Well, Mentor says we have to do our shift, so here we are.” “Yeah, but this is Novice stuff, not something you’d give a Disciple or a Veteran.” "Yeah, especially after we took down Green Cheese," Frigid breathed after a long gulp of root beer. "That guy just didn't make things easy for us. You'd think Mentor would give us the day off..." "Bad timing I guess... Everyone's gotta do duty at some point. Ours just happened to be after a long day." “Bah.” After a few more bottles, the two Assassins were feeling a bit better about being stuck on the roof for the rest of the night and were now playing a game of Go Fish while they waited for the sun to come up and relieve them of their duty. “Been getting kind of quiet lately,” High Noon remarked through a mouthful of beef jerky. “No killers, no major Templar plans, and a couple more new people to train. That’s about it, eh?” Frigid nodded and drew a card. “Almost a bit too peaceful, don’t you think?” High Noon shrugged. “Hey, we can’t all be action heroes all the time. Mentor’s always telling us there’s more to being an Assassin than just killing Templars. Not that she’ll tell us what that is,” he added, pushing over the bowl of crisps to Frigid. Taking a handful, Frigid drained another bottle of root beer and belched. “Got me. I’d ask Star Lance, but I don’t think he’ll tell us.” “Maybe Mirror Match can ask him,” the cowboy said mildly. “Old Lancey-boy won’t turn her down.” “Better make sure he didn’t hear you call him that,” Frigid grinned. He dunked the chips into the tray of dip and ate them. “Speaking of turning down people, I hear that you tried asking out Dewdrop last week?” “*Hic* What?” High Noon put down his root beer and stared at Frigid, his cheeks blooming with color. “Who told you that?” “Well, you just did,” Frigid smirked. He lay down his last card. “I win this round.” “Not again…” High Noon pushed over the pile of chocolates they’d been betting with before taking a drink from his bottle. “I mean, I can’t win the girl, and I can’t win the card game. It’s just not my week.” Frigid shuffled the cards back together and popped a chocolate into his mouth. “Aw, cheer up. To be honest, I don’t think Dewdrop has anything against you.” “Yeah?” The other Assassin didn’t look convinced at all. “Yeah. Maybe she’s just playing hard to get. You know, women are hard to understand sometimes.” Frigid used his hidden blade to cut open a packet of cookies. “You know, I don’t think I understand Mirror completely sometimes either.” High Noon laughed at that. “Tcha, right. You and that girl, are as thick as… as…” he struggled to find the right word. “Jelly?” Frigid suggested, passing High Noon a carton of it from the cooler. “Nah, nah,” High Noon said with a wave of his arm, almost knocking over the dip. “Thick as… thieves. Yeah, that’s it. Thick as thieves. Why isn’t she up here with us anyway?” Frigid sighed. Mirror Match had recently volunteered to work in the Recon and Intelligence Division of the Assassins, and was currently out gathering intel on a minor Templar base. Frigid had offered to join her, but there were no more empty spots. “Oh, you know. Stuff.” He pulled out a small picture of Mirror Match and himself, an arm around each other and wide smiles on their faces, and looked at it for a good forty seconds. After putting it back in his coat pocket, he looked moodily off into the sleeping city of Trottingham. High Noon seemed to realize he’d hit a nerve, because he swiftly changed the topic. “It’s not so bad, this. I mean, being an Assassin.” “Hmmm?” “Well you know,” High Noon explained. He snatched a stick of celery from a plastic bag and plunged it into the dip. “We have friends, allies, and a place to stay. We also get to help the world, which ain’t a bad deal.” “Yeah,” Frigid said. For such a tense guy, High Noon had a way with words that he found very calming. “Yeah, I guess so.” The cowboy clapped his friend on the back and laid back to look at the slowly brightening sky. “I know so, buddy. I know so.” Down in the city, the sounds of cars starting and people awakening could be heard, but for this moment, the two Assassins were alone in their own little world, and completely content. Then there was a knock on the roof nearby. Frigid raised his head to look at the source: Dust Fencer had just climbed up to their spot and was staring at all the food and drinks with a half hysterical, half outraged expression on his face. “Just what the hay is this?!” "Jerky? Chips? Cookies? Chocolate? Whipped cream?” Star Lance raised his voice as High Noon and Frigid stood before him. "This is guard duty! Not picnic duty!" "Well, t-to be fair..." High Noon shifted his feet. "The previous g-guys left the cream." "Do you think this is a joke?! Do you?!" Star Lance slammed a fist against the nearest bookshelf, causing some books to fall out, startling the cowboy. "Guard duty is important! What if the Templars find us? You'll both be too busy eating and playing cards to notice!" Frigid hated to admit it, but what they did was highly irresponsible and Star Lance was right. If Templars had shown up then, they would be totally caught off-guard. "We're sorry, Star Lance," Frigid said, trying to calm the angry Assassin. "That was wrong of us." "Sorry isn't going to cut it!" Star Lance stopped as the Mentor put a hand on his arm, silently telling him to tone down. The Master Assassin sighed and relaxed his face with noticeable effort. "Alright, alright. You may go. Just remember what you signed up for when you joined the Brotherhood." Frigid and High Noon left the office, thankful that the shouting had ended early, thanks to the Mentor. "Glad that she can calm him down at least..." High Noon put his hat back on, finally able to relax. "I thought he was just going to lose it and stuff his fist down my throat." "You asked for it," Frigid laughed as they made their way down the stairs. "I still can't believe you had mustered enough courage to tell him about the cream. Ha ha! I mean you? High Noon? Talking back to Star Lance?" "Yeah, wasn't my finest moment to learn to speak up..." High Noon sighed. They continued walking along when Noon suddenly stopped and slowed his pace, positioning himself behind Frigid. "What are you doing...?" Frigid asked and looked ahead. Two figures had just arrived at the top of the staircase leading down, and Frigid could see why the cowboy had shrunk back. "Ah, of course..." He approached the two and waved when they saw him. "Morning, Satin. Dewdrop." "Hey, Frigid," Satin greeted while her apprentice simply nodded and smiled. She looked behind the Veteran-grade Assassin, looking at High Noon, who was hiding his face with his hat. "Hi, Noon. What's... What's with him?" "Oh... This?" Frigid pointed at the cowering Assassin before smiling. "I think he’s a little bummed about… something." "Silly,” Satin admonished. “If there’s an issue, come out and say it; Mentor’s always telling us not to keep our problems bottled upside.” She gave High Noon a disarming smile, and for a moment it worked. Then he caught eye of Dewdrop lurking just behind Satin, grinning at him like a dervish. While Satin was calm and reserved for the most part, Dewdrop was her opposite; she was confident, outgoing, and had scant respect for authority. Naturally, this rubbed a lot of the Assassins the wrong way, High Noon included. It was just even thornier that Dewdrop was widely agreed to be rather attractive and had turned down a lot of guys already. “Pff. Suit yourself,” Dewdrop shrugged. She took Satin’s hand and towed her off the the obstacle course room. “Come on, Satin; I bet you I can beat your record!” The two girls disappeared around the corner, leaving Frigid with a shaken High Noon. “Come on, man!” Frigid pulled the hat off his head to reveal a red face. “You could’ve told her your problems.” “Nope.” High Noon shook his head and reached for his hat, which Frigid pulled further away from him. “One embarrassment is enough, thank you. Now may I please have my hat back?” Frigid didn’t have time to decide as the hat was yanked from his hand. Dust Fencer walked past the gray haired Assassin and handed it back to High Noon. “Really, Frigid? How old are you again?” “We’re not allowed to have fun, Dust?” Frigid smirked. Dust walked up and put a hand on Frigid’s shoulder. “I’d have thought you had fun enough last night, and sorry for telling Star Lance about it, but you’ve gotta learn. Keeping an eye out for Templars is a pretty important thing.” “Don’t worry, Dust, I understand.” “Do you now?” Dust raised the corner of his mouth in amusement. “Tell you what, next time you two have yourselves a little picnic, don’t forget to invite me too, eh?” “What for real?” Frigid was confused. The man had turned them in after all. “First, you tell on us, then now you want us to invite you?” All three of them started leaning back with laughter. “I’ve missed you young’uns.” Dust put his arms around both of them. “Haven’t got to have a chat like this in a while, with that Templar machine and all. We’ll definitely find it and take it down before they can find someone to wield that artifact of theirs.” “If it even works,” Frigid interjected. “Mirror Match has been studying the plans that Pierce rips from the Templar database every few months, and that thing doesn’t sound operational to me.” "Well, we don't take chances," Dust gave him a smile full of white teeth. "Anyhow... What do you two want to do? We've got plenty of time to catch up! How's it feel, huh? Rising in the ranks the last few years. One day you'll be like Star Lance! Looking down on all the new Assassins. Ha!" "I'm hoping that day never comes..." High Noon whistled as the three of them headed out the front doors to the nearest pub. "If I ever get that good, I'm gonna be nice to all the little kids." "Sure." Dust lead the way. “Breakfast’s on me, fellas.” The Manehattan alley was dark and damp, overshadowed by two towering skyscrapers. Few ever ventured into the warren of maze-like backstreets that lay between the spires, and it was here that Steam Shift and Flywheel had been ordered to wait for Timber’s mysterious contact. The two young men, dressed in a passable facsimile of security guards, stood back to back, their hands never far from their holsters. "What did he say the contact looked like again?" Flywheel asked. "He didn't." Steam Shift checked the entrance to the alley. “Just said to wait here and see who shows up.” Flywheel stifled a yawn. They had been waiting here for almost an hour and there had been nothing in the alley but them and a rat which his partner had promptly shot. "Did he give us the wrong location?" "I doubt it. Timber rarely gets his info wrong. Just wait and be patient." They did, even as the sun rose directly overhead and cast its light into the dank concrete trench. Flywheel retreated into the shade of an air conditioning unit, wrinkling his nose at the stench of a nearby dumpster. Steam Shift remained in his spot, keeping a close eye on the people walking past the alley. Not one of them paid attention to the two men as they went on with their busy lives. Eventually the sun abandoned them to the darkness once again, leaving both Templars free to walk up and down the alley to relieve their boredom. "Is the contact here yet?" Flywheel groaned and looked at his watch. “We’ve been here for six hours already, and all we’ve seen is that blasted rat!” As much as he hated to admit it, Steam Shift had to agree with his partner. “I’ll give Timber a call. See what he thinks.” The man raised his phone to his ear, thumb on the speed dial for headquarters. Something dark blurred past Flywheel, who had been lighting a cigarette and didn’t see it. His eyes still fixed on the wall and his ear pressed to the phone, Steam Shift completely missed the gloved hand pulling his partner behind the dumpster and out of sight. There was a crack, and Steam Shift turned around warily. The phone fell to the ground. Steam Shift’s legs kicked uselessly, his throat gripped between steel fingers that left just enough room for him to breathe. In the gloom of the alley, the hooded and cloaked figure that held him up was almost invisible. As his vision began to darken, the Templar’s eyes settled on the wrist mounted blade that adorned the arm in front of his face. “Assassin…” he croaked, going for his gun. The cloaked figure was faster; it whipped its arm downward and Steam Shift’s body slammed into the concrete. Before the stars in his eyes cleared, the figure had removed his gun and disassembled it, dropping the parts onto the ground. With methodical slowness, the figure grabbed him by the collar and hauled Steam Shift to his feet. “No,” it said in an eerie layered voice; it almost sounded female. “Nothing you could ever conceive in your mind.” There was a gleam of pointed teeth and Steam Shift’s scream died in his throat.