Scorch
Scorch began to rise from unconsciousness, and with a concussive headache that made him wish he wasn't waking up. The left side of his head really hurt in particular; he tried touching it, and all he was rewarded with was an agonizing flare of pain. His vision was fuzzy, but he could see that it was a bedroom, of some sort. He was currently lying on the bed itself, on top of the sheets.
Had he fallen asleep somewhere else entirely? Had the entire experience been just some sort of lucid dream?
He tried to get up- only to hear a sound akin to metal chafing against metal, and something pulled against his neck, strangling him. He sat back down, gasping profusely, and reached up and felt where he had been choked, and touched metal. He looked down, and saw an iron collar locked around his neck. Looking behind him, he saw that the collar had been connected to a length of chain, and that the chain itself was locked to one of many metal bars that made up the bedpost.
His vision was completely clear now, and he noticed he was completely undressed, his only article on him being his Pipbuck- which was completely unnatural, since he always slept armed, regardless of the situation. He looked around the room, noticing that it was in a run-down condition, with the paint peeling off and chunks of plaster breaking loose. He also noted that the skulls of a few ponies were strewn around the room, likely kept by trophies by whoever had lived- or did live- here.
'So it wasn't a bad dream.' he thought grimly, remembering the events from earlier that day. Looking back, that one soldier had probably been right- although it had seemed like a good idea in the moment, he probably should have considered that they wouldn't send their every asset after him. And now because of it, he and that other Unicorn were now in the Roaches' grasp.
He looked around, seeing if he could find something to break or unlock his collar or chain. Looking around to his full capability, he scanned the room for a tool that could help him accomplish this, and found nothing. He slumped back down in defeat and started to look around again, if only for hoping to find something interesting to sate his boredom. His eyes rested upon a mirror dresser off to the left side of the room, and noticed a sheet of paper face-down on the table part of the furniture piece. Clearly having nothing better to do at the moment, he decided to see if there was anything to read on it, and telekinetically carried it over to him.
The movement from the paper to his talons was wobbly and strained; his telekinesis was, to put it simply, horrible- he could only carry smaller, lightweight objects with it, and even that took tremendous effort on his part. Nonetheless, he still succeeded in accomplishing the feat, and he took the paper in his claws. Much to his satisfaction, it did have writing on it.
Yhuul, my dear friend,
I trust that you are doing well. I wish you luck on your scavenging over in Vanhoover, and I certainly hope you find something over there as valuable as what we have over in the ruins of Canterlot. We've struck gold over here- screw all the talk about the Pink Cloud and crap, what we've discovered was worth it!
I think me and my squadron may have found something that can hand the entire wasteland right into the Wretched Hive's hooves. All I have to do is to get my thugs to contact the Queen; there is no doubt on my mind that she'll be pleased upon hearing what we have discovered. Once she knows, she'd be more than happy to send multiple Bookworm teams our way to help us bring in as much of this stuff as we can.
As for what this is, well... I'll leave that as a pleasant little surprise. Popular talk spreads like wildfire, after all.
Your friend,
Ahkha
What? The Wretched Hive have found something that could make them rulers of the wasteland? What could that possibly be? They already access not only the most tech, but some of the strongest tech out of any organization in Equestria! What is so powerful that they could possibly want? He folded up the letter into a minuscule pad of paper and stuffed it underneath his Pipbuck, making sure it stayed perfectly hidden in-between his arm and the terminal.
'I need to get out of here.' he thought, his mind rife with determination. Thankfully, if there was one spell he could use, it was teleportation- a fact he remembered when thinking of ways he could escape.
He concentrated on blinking away from his chains, clenching his eyes shut in focus and willing up the energy to tap into his innate Unicorn magic...
...and found himself still leashed to the bed, no further in his plans of escape.
"What?" he said, flabbergasted. "That should have worked... why didn't I teleport?"
"Because that chain is magic-proofed."
He swiftly looked upward to see the same changeling soldier from twice before, smirking at him tauntingly. Granted, she was bereft of her helmet and sniper rifle, but her triangular, orange markings and her voice were the same.
"You didn't actually think we wouldn't take your magic into account, did you? You severely underestimate us, I've noticed. We didn't simply want to cut off your horn, especially given that such a task would be unnecessarily messy- especially given that we have much more convenient ways of preventing our Unicorns from escaping."
She walked over to the bed, crawling onto it and over him, towering over him in his current state. He glanced over to see a cabinet of the mirror drawer open via her telekinesis, and also using her magic, she pulled out what seemed to be something reminiscent of a tiny, metal baton- only for her to press a button on the bar that caused a thin, long blade to spring up.
"I really regret trying to kill you back at the ports... I would have really wasted a truly unique being to share my bed with... however..."
She carefully levitated the switchblade to his throat, keeping it hovering a couple of inches away from his neck.
"I am going to suggest this, more for your sake than mine- you will not try to escape, under any circumstances. You will remain at my side at all times whenever you are not within this room, and do everything I say should I demand anything of you. Otherwise..."
She floated the blade closer to his neck, only mere centimeters away from impaling his esophagus.
"I'm still not entirely averse to ending your life. Your skull would still be an interesting addition to my collection, I will be honest there."
Scorch nodded meekly, being careful to not knock the blade into his throat, and praying his simple-yet-obedient reaction would satisfy her. Much to his relief, it did, and she pulled the blade away and flung it into the mirror, causing the once-miraculously-intact reflective surface to fracture at the point of impact.
"Good. Now..."
He released a sharp gasp upon feeling one of her forehooves brush against... "personal areas", while bringing his head up to hers with her telekinesis to look her in the eye, their horns scraping against each other.
"We're having a little event later tonight that I intend to go see, but I want to see what your made of before we go..."
She briefly ran her tongue along the side of his head before bringing him in for a kiss; one that brought him no satisfaction, for it was as vapid and empty as his forced role.
He would find a way to escape; that was for certain. But he couldn't do it now; not if he valued his life. If he ever found himself in a position where he had such an opportunity, he would take it.
For now, he would satisfy her sick demands- even if he would despise every second of it.
'Every time I'll be forced to bed her is going to suck.'