//------------------------------// // Flashback: Barro'd Time // Story: Dan Vs. The Magic of Friendship(Season 1) // by Barrobroadcaster //------------------------------// Prosperity Mountains, Restricted Area Stable 5- Sublevel 5: Processing 3 months ago "I didn't have to do this," Rice said, voice just loud enough that it echoed off the steel, underground walls. "After everything that's happened, I think you can understand why I wouldn't. But I did anyway. Because I keep my word." The Director didn't seem to be paying attention to him. The cloaked creature was far too enamored with her 'prizes' that were finally in her possession. At this point, honestly, Rice had served his purpose so part of her wanted to just dispose of him. But he knew that, and she knew that he knew. Besides, the collection still wasn't quite complete. "It's nice to know I can still be impressed. I can't explain to you how rewarding that feeling is," Cleo said. She caressed the flash-frozen form of Chrys, her expression still holding a mixture of defiance and confusion. So much like Dan. Many of them had similar appearances- evidence of his influence. "This isn't all of them." "There are still more to process." She turned to him. "And there's still more out there," she snapped. Rice raised an eyebrow. He was in too much of a good mood to really be bothered. "Eeyup. So, lemme go get on that. You have fun with your new friends here." He walked backwards out of the room before she could say anything more. In the next room was the main processing chamber. Treated water stolen from the sea ponies, wood and potions stolen from the zebras, containment technology from the griffons. Along with metal stolen from the donkeys, mostly leftover Cold War-era tanks and weapons, Rice's own Plan X had finally paid off. Yes, all the shenanigans about the griffons, zebras, sea ponies- all the stuff that had happened since Dan returned from the Crystal Empire had all been a part of another of Rice's plans. And it had worked. Losing the vast majority of his own Magic Gears was a more serious blow than anyone realized. He needed time and resources to rebuild. Of course, letting the other races of Equestria pillage the planet when he conquered Earth had always been the plan, but things had to be shifted around after his defeat in the Crystal Empire. The Director had always wanted to create a new Equestria. Rice was not so shortsighted; he wanted to create something better. A long series of conveyor belts rotated onward. On one end, ponies entered and at the other, they entered the processing machine which flash-froze them in special, magical ice, the kind of ice only sea ponies could create. This preserved them and prevented them from freezing to death, a crucial factor, and then the pink goo from earlier coated the frozen statue. The goo created a copy of everything that pony was- talent, memories, hopes, dreams, history, and duplicated it. This would be enough to fool the Director's own magic. "You! You'll pay for this! I'll find a way, I swear it! I'll make you pay for this, Vice Grip!!!" Lightning yelled. The indigo pony had used his own magic to break his muzzle, but couldn't quite break through his restraints. Rice paid him no attention as the pony continued shouting obscenities at him up until he was finally frozen and copied. He entered the next room where his dog soldiers monitored the processing. "Beagan!" "Rice- my lord," he half-corrected himself. They both knew he was closer to him than formalities. "We are nearing thirty-percent capacity. Efficiency is at eighty-four percent capacity, but our supplies-" Rice stepped forward and hugged him tight. "Beagan, it's just so good to see you." In truth, the dogs were the only thing even close to family Rice had left. "I've been away for a while, but this is it. We're almost ready." "Yes," the brown dog rubbed his neck, "but milord, the supplies- we've exhausted almost the entire mirror pool." He put his hand on the dog's shoulder. "We'll get more resources." The dog seemed uncertain. "I don't see how, sire, the mines are bare and the stock of ore is-" "Don't worry," Rice toold him. He petted the dog down the back of his head. "Everything will be taken care of. Relax. Take some time off if you like." "Ye... yes, sir," the dog practically cooed. One of the reasons he liked dogs was that they were easy to control. He fed his top lieutenant a biscuit and then proceeded out the door. He took an elevator up to his office. Dogs saluted him wherever they saw him. He hugged and fed more than a few of them a treat- he did love them. Loved them as he loved tools, but still loved them he did. Rice entered his office. Barro and Michael were busy connecting wires to a pair of heavy studio cameras. Barro's news desk and green screen filled one side of the office where Rice's desk and terminal had been earlier. Rice could've just snapped his fingers and done everything himself, but he preferred to make the two meddlesome dipshits in front of him do it. It made him happy to see them suffer. "Almost showtime, boys?" "Yes," Barro said, making no attempt to hide his anger. "But you're not going to be able to use the projector everywhere. You'll have to know the target, you'll have to input it and-" "That's fine, that's all fine," Rice waved away the broadcaster's advice. "I appreciate the work you two are doing. Really, I do. I hope you're both ready for your final performance on this planet," he said with a coy grin. Barro and Michael both exchanged a long look. Neither of them smiled. Without Michael's sunglasses, both stallions were able to see each other fully. They didn't need to say anything. Rice walked between the two up to the desk and both stepped back. "So which camera am I going to be on first?" "This one," Barro said, placing a hoof on the one next to him. He glanced over Rice's shoulder at Michael. "This one here? Ah, very good," Rice said, looking over the large camera. "This is the one with the holoprojector?" Barro nodded slowly. "Yes." "I just press here, yes?" Rice asked. Again, Barro gave him a slow nod. Rice turned on the switch which activated the holographic projector. A blue ring of light appeared around the camera's lens, indicating the sequence was on. If the camera had been on, it would have produced a holographic image of Rice anywhere in Equestria he chose to target. And it wouldn't be an ordinary holographic projection, either, but a very special one indeed. Rice knew that. And that wasn't all he knew. "Easy as that, is it?" Rice asked. "That's all it takes?" Again, Barro confirmed this. "Yes. Whatever you choose to broadcast, you or anyone else, you'll have to input the target coordinates manually. Anywhere in Equestria you want." "Very good, very good," Rice said, smiling. He turned and glanced over his shoulder at Michael. The brown stallion had not moved from his spot behind the other camera. "And I suppose it's also the best place for you to install your targeting beacon." He turned back to Barro. The white stallion looked confused on the surface but underneath that, Rice knew, worried. Rice continued grinning at him, lips pressed together in a sinister, knowing smile. "You're a smart man, Barro. Both of you are very clever. I have to give you credit for that." "What are you talking abou-" Rice pulled out a handgun. "You think I'm an idiot, is that it? No matter how smart either of you THINK you are, you STILL don't know who you're dealing with." Both ponies backed up to their respective walls. "Rice-" "You think I don't know you contacted your little flying circus when you had the chance?" Rice asked. He turned back and forth between both of them before focusing his attention on Barro. "No, I knew you would always keep something up your sleeve, something held back. Because it's exactly what I'd do, isn't it? Exactly what Dan would do." "Even if I hadn't, they'd come after you anyway," Barro fired back angrily. "And being underground won't matter. They have enough firepower to bypass any defenses you can activate. I've made certain of that." "Ah, very good, very good," Rice said again, confidently. "Very good job, if I must say myself. You made the perfect squadron here- perfect ships, perfect crews no doubt and enough of them to fly 'round the clock. Quite an effective card to play, Barro. Kudos." "Well, they're not exactly perfect," Michael mentioned. "Shut-" "Of course, of course," Rice nodded. "Nothing is complete without a character flaw. That sort of thing, right?" Neither Barro nor Michael corrected him. "A group of bombers that never have to stop bombing, can't be shot down and can fly anywhere at any time. The perfect thing to win any war. And a broadcaster to control the narrative, to start and stop the war at any whim. Very smart, Barro. Very smart indeed." Barro looked over at Michael again. Rice held his gaze, the same knowing grin on his face. The broadcaster's lip slowly started to tremble as the facade finally, at long last crumbled away. "You don't know... you don't know what it's like," Barro said. "Seeing all those people... I had to report it all. So many... so many dead." Rice nodded. "Yes. Oh, I know more than you think, dear Barro." He walked over to the wall and placed his hand above Barro's head, leaning. "I also know that wasn't the worst of it, was it? There were those who tried to stop it, weren't there?" Barro cried. His tears fell to the ground in tiny, twinkling droplets that hit the floor to glisten next to the bundles of wires connecting the cameras. "I know. I know, it's okay," Rice put his arm around the pony's shoulders. "The hardest part was knowing they could have made a difference." "They were heroes," Michael said, stepping forward. "They were all heroes." "And there's certainly enough dead heroes, aren't there?" Rice asked. Both ponies nodded. "I tried to save them... I was so desperate to save them," Barro muttered. "They wanted..." he breathed hard. "They wanted to go back. They said it wasn't enough- it wasn't enough just to survive. They knew it, I knew it. They didn't want to survive if their lives meant nothing. They wanted to go back!" "Is that why... oh..." Rice said, sounding surprised. Michael unfolded a crumpled up piece of paper behind them. A crude drawing of a cannon shooting a Star Destroyer. The ion cannon on the Golden Oaks Library... and the other thing Barro and Michael had summoned directly. Rice took the paper. "I see now. Why would a Rebel Alliance fanboy summon the Galactic Empire, the one thing that could destroy what they were trying to protect?" Barro looked up at Rice. But Rice already knew they answer. "So they would have something to fight." "So they would stay. And be safe," Barro said. Rice nodded. "And so, your real broadcasts were unauthorized ones. The rest? Just to mask what you were really doing. Very clever indeed." Barro shook his head. "How... how did you know?" The scientist grinned. "Because you just told me." "Wha-" "All I knew was that they listened to you for some reason. And that, despite your constant belittling of them, that you actually LIKED them. Even LOVED them," Rice announced. He thumbed behind him. "The same reason you keep around this idiot." "Actually, I'm the one who brought him here," Michael said. Barro did not deny this. "You're a lot like the Director, you know?" Rice declared, smirking. "You'd do anything to protect your favorites, even if you know they're doomed. Even jeopardize this whole entire planet." "Doomed is a point of view," Barro said. "Alright, enough with the word games," Rice said. "You're going to take care of your own mess. And by that, I mean the flyboys you've been working so hard to keep under the radar." "Ha," Barro laughed, "I couldn't stop them if I tried. Same thing with Michael- I can't control him. They won't even shut up when I want them to, why would they listen to me?" "They're already on their way. Even if they don't know our exact location, they can still pinpoint it with deep scans," Michael said. "They'll find us eventually and when they do, you'll see some real pyrotechnics, believe me." "Give up, Rice. You've already lost," Barro stated. "You're out of resources and out of time. There's nothing you can do to stop my bombers." Rice nodded. "Touche. Oh yes, indeed, I know. I know there's nothing that I can do to stop them." He turned to Barro, a more sly grin now on his face. Barro's jaw worked for a moment. "I already told you- they won't listen to me. And there's no way you can shoot them down." "I'm not going to shoot them down. You are." "Ha!" "Hahahaha!" the two ponies chuckled. And then Rice starting laughing with them until slowly, they all three stopped. "You think I'm going to shoot down my own squadron? For you?" Barro asked. "Oh, I know you're going to. In fact, I'm going to make it very easy for you," Rice said. And he pointed the gun at Barro's head. "Pffft, haha... haha, no. N-nice try but, I know a bluff when I see one," Barro scoffed. "You shoot me, you get nothing." Rice grinned. "Right you are." He turned the gun around and shot Michael. "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" "MICHAEL!!" "Ah-ah. Back up," Rice warned. He snapped his fingers and Michael's mouth zipped shut. The stallion grabbed his leg, crying profusely, eyes pinched as he fell to the floor, bleeding. "You son of a bitch! You sick son of a-" "Shut up, Barro. Or the next one goes through his stomach," Rice said, aiming the gun at him. "Now, I'll be very happy to treat your friend. Provided that you do everything I say." Barro breathed heavily. Michael was still clutching his leg, trying to keep pressure on the wound as it bled. The blood was already wetting the cables on the other camera. He mouthed the words "I'm sorry" to his friend. He was sorry for more than just him getting shot. Rice clamped his hand firmly down on Barro's shoulder yet again. "Your heroes... or your best friend. I didn't get that choice. I lost my son." He punched a hole in the wall next to Barro's head. His smile faded momentarily, overcome by a rage that was truly unspeakable. "Sorry. I forget sometimes you're one of the ones that wasn't responsible for that. But we still have work to do." "What do you want me to do?" Barro asked, not looking up at him. "Deal with the meddlers you brought here first. Shoot them all down and I'll fix your friend's leg. If you even think of crossing me, of trying to mess with me, he'll die a death so agonizingly painful and slow that it'll put every gruesome story you've ever reported to shame," Rice said. "And I'll broadcast it live. Unlike your little news show." Barro took one last look at Michael, who had passed out from pain. What choice did he have? He owed Michael his life, his job, he wouldn't be here if it weren't for his friend. Barro agreed and that day, he took the last of his starfighters, the one he and Michael arrived in, into orbit. Much to Rice's surprise, Barro had not exaggerated his skills as a pilot. Like his proficiency as a news broadcaster on Ponyville Action News, he was incredibly good. A news anchor that loved ships, an odd combination to be sure but one that undeniably worked. Just as none had challenged him on air, none could challenge him in the air, or in space in this case. The broadcaster shot down the Rebel Alliance, the Galactic Empire, any ship that flew against him. It wasn't hard acting alone. In fact, being part of a squadron, had he been with others like Michael he was trying to protect, it might have made it more difficult for him. The fact that Rice had made him choose between his friend and his team had made things incredibly easy for him. With nothing left to lose, he had nothing left to hold back. He didn't. Barro shot down his own squadron in under thirty seconds. It was impossible- twelve ships in six shots but the flyboy had somehow done it. The rest came later- a squad at a time, then entire wings of fighters, fleets. Wave after wave until Equestria's airspace was very filled with debris. Which was another part of Rice's plan. The other part was the result: no other ships, planes, helicopters or anything else that flew. Nothing that could possibly reach the moon. Equestria's airspace was secured in the space of a single day. "There's... there's nothing left," Barro said. In the cockpit of his personal starfighter, coincidentally shaped kinda like a star, the pony slumped. "That's it. It's finished." *Clap clap clap* the metallic clangs of Rice's hands rang over the ship's comms. "Incredible, Barro! I should've enlisted your help years ago, I can't believe it! Fantastic, my good man! Really, I WISH I would've known to contact you sooner." Barro was drained. "Uh... huhhhhh." His hooves shook as he lifted them off the controls and hugged his own chest. He wanted to go home. In this moment, all he wanted to do was go back to his Canterlot apartment and pass out on his own bed. "And don't you worry- I recorded the whole thing. Truly, magnificent dogfighting. If I had only known you were this GOOD at destroying things, I would've called on you sooner. Top-notch sir, truly top-notch." "I... ta-take requests. When I'm ON THE NEWS!!" Barro shouted. He shivered and put on a flight jacket over his uniform. Rice laughed."To be honest, I never really watched your broadcasts before. But I'm definitely going to watch them now. You do have reruns, right?" "..." Barro considered flying to Stable Five and shooting at it until his shots penetrated the Stable's walls. "Is there anything else you wanted?" "Hahaha, no no no, you've done fine." "Good. Because I'm-" He tried to engage the ship's controls but they were slack in his hooves. The thrusters, the engines, there was power but the controls weren't working. "Rice! What is this?!" "I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere, Barro. Honestly, I was considering just deactivating your life support and letting you freeze to death up there, but I have to say you've impressed me too much! No, I think I'll just keep you right where you are in case I need a talented marksman again. Can't hurt, right?" "RIIICE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SHIP!!???" Rice chuckled again. "Oh, I just used the time we've been having this little conversation to upload a remote control program to your ship's computer. You're far too gullible, you know that?" Barro smashed his hooves on the control panel. The lights, the switches, nothing worked. The ship began to helplessly drift among the orbiting debris of other ships. "Calm down, Barro. Seriously, you're not doing yourself any favors." "What are you going to do?! Just leave me stranded up here, trapped like a rat in my own cockpit?!?!" "...Mmm, yeah, pretty much." "There's no food or water up here!" Barro yelled, looking around. He hadn't packed anything but his flight suit. Apart from a single emergency kit underneath him, there was nothing else up there. "SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!" There was, however, the Space Core from Portal 2, which zipped by to make a cameo appearance. "Relax, loudmouth. I'll shoot you up a lunchbox later. You like Lunchables?" Barro stewed. "And how exactly am I supposed to get it inside my ship?" "Oh, just open the cockpit real quick, grab it and shut it again." Barro rubbed his forehead. "That's not how SPACE works!" "I was joking, geez. You know what, we'll figure it out later. Just sit back and enjoy the view for now. And remember, if you try to double-cross me, I'll remote-fly your ship into the sun. I'll talk to ya later buddy, have fun!" *Click* High above Equestria, in orbit between the planet and the moon, Barro was left alone among the destroyed wreckage of all his favorite ships. Bits and pieces of the vessels he and Michael loved, now reduced to a macabre mosaic in the Equestrian night sky. The final irony Barro was subjected to was the simple fact that space was the last place for a broadcaster. For in space, nopony can hear you scream. Equestria Stable 5, Rice Puddinghead's Office Rice hadn't bothered to get anyone to clean up the office since he took Michael out of it. The earth pony's blood stained the floor and wires now. Michael himself had been moved to the infirmary; Rice would have just killed him, but like Barro, he might've been useful later on. For now, his office was empty. He hadn't even posted any dogs outside to guard it. An air vent hatch opened with a quiet creak in the office. A figure emerged, one so nimble that the security cameras and sensors didn't notice it. The figure jumped over the wires, activated the holoprojector's secret functions and then went to Barro's news desk where a computer was. The figure wasn't exactly equipped to use a computer, but as with all things, Opal found she could manage easily enough anyway. Remote uplink established. Connecting to DHS mainframe... ... Complete. --United States Defense Department Omega Sector-- Request Agent: [Dancing_Shadow] Request sent...