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// Chapter 2: The Couch (Scarlet) 
// Story: Fair Flight 
// by Baryski 
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Chapter 2- Scarlet

The following day and a half had been uneventful for Scarlet. For one, she liquidated two more Creed members in a single run, making them trip on her sawblade launcher, set at the edge of the town. Fair-feather had become a dangerous place. You never knew when the next disaster would occur, so you had to be prepared at every turn. It didn’t hurt planning traps ahead, did it?

The caffeine pills she had been taking were starting to show their toll. After two days of sleepless nights, the techie was almost finished with her own bracer blade prototype. Using parts from all the bracers she acquired, she managed to rig her hoof gun to the frame taken from the latest elite kill. Elite bracers had lighter frames and thus were more efficient to work on. Before long, Scarlet made a simple bracer blade into a blade and multi-purpose projectile launcher. From mini-bombs to bullets, smokescreens and smart missiles, it was a heaven of choices. However, the launcher only supported one modification at a time, making it bulky to change during combat. Maybe she’d make it perfect later.

However, now it was time for some sleep. Not even the caffeine helped anymore. Scarlet was tired and everyone could see it. Leaving her workbench early, the techie headed to the only place she could call home: a makeshift apartment in an old house, with a bit of rebuilding it had become a rich colt’s dream: Self-flushing bathrooms, a radio set for VinylFm, and a very comfy water couch. She could just feel herself sink in  it… I think I can afford sleeping until… Tomorrow evening. The Creed can wait.

Removing the deadlock, she entered the apartment. Ahh… Home sweet home!  First of all, Scar checked for an answer to the message sent to HQ. None had been received. Lazy flanked bureaucrats… The next thing she wanted to do was take a warm bubble bath. Leaving her saddlebag by the tub, she sunk in as the water started pouring. It felt so good, she’d have never left the bathroom. At least, not for the next few hours.

However, something was wrong… Looking around, something had been changed since she last was here… A feeling of unease caught up to her whilst scanning the surroundings. The canisters. They were not here before. Before she could realize, a thick, green gas started pouring out of them. There was no time to think. Jumping out of the tub, still wet, mane hanging, she reached for the gas mask in her saddlebag. And not a moment too soon, for the gas engulfed her right after the filter was on.

Not thinking twice, she jolted for the entrance, without taking her bags. Turning towards the door, she saw… Her. This… This can’t be! Turning her head, Scarlet could hear the dart ring past her ear. Hadn’t she moved, it would have found its place in the side of her neck. It didn’t matter, she had to escape. The window was the obvious choice. Running down the hallway, she didn’t see the small, paralytic caltrops until it was too late. One had dug into her hoof. The light poison started making its effect as she continued running, avoiding the rest of the spikes and stumbling in her own hooves.

She was almost there. Closing the door to the living room behind, she heard yet another dart stick in the closed door. She was saved. The window was open, as always. Her couch usually served pretty well as a trampoline. Jumping on it, Scarlet spread her wings and… Fell back to her couch. She tried standing up, yet none of her limbs listened. She was glued to it, literally. She heard the assassin walk up behind her, and spat with a tone full of despise “You did NOT just mess with my favorite couch!”

“Relax, you’re quite lucky, you know?” the voice echoed. Steady, calculated, as always. Scarlet tried to fight the grip of her beloved couch, yet she only sunk more inside. The assassin inched closer, clipping off her gas mask and removing it over her face. It was then when she could finally take a good look at her assailant. She was a brown pegasus, roughly the same age as her. Her short mane complemented her coat gracefully in black and blue. Scarlet was amazed: not only was she the first assassin worthy of her job, she was also good looking!

Her steady hoof pushed Scarlet on the couch, making her sit down. The adhesive stuck to her wings and tail as well. Stuck like a fly on sticky paper. She didn’t have the time to react to all this. She was shocked, no, enraged of what she had done with her couch “Lucky? Just let me out of here. You'll be the lucky one if your body is still in one piece after you messed with Bubbles.” Struggling, Scarlet lunged for the assassin, sticking her mane to the back of the couch.

The cloaked mare took out a glass of liquid from her backpack, and started sipping. The initial wave of rage had dissipated, as the assassin pony addressed her again “Would you like some?” Her cold voice was enough to get Scarlet boiling with rage again, attempting another lunge for her, struggling fruitlessly out of her beloved couches’ grip “Look, this doesn’t have to be hard. I just want a few answers.”

Yeah right. I’ve heard the methods you guys use to get answers. “Then you’ll kill me?” The techie started calming down, knowing she didn’t have much of a choice. She was hopeless. “I don’t need to answer to mares like you.” She had lost everything, soon her life as well. She could still remain with her integrity and dignity.

“No, you’re really quite lucky in that respect.” Does this mare take me for an idiot? Creed never take prisoners. They’re no ponies. They’re tools. If it weren’t for them… They’d still be alive. Yet, her voice was changed. The pegasus showed compassion and in some aspect… mercy. Scarlet was actually ready to believe what the mare said, but yet she was not fully convinced.

“I don’t believe you. You’re Creed. Now, just finish it.” Bowing her head, to the extent she could, she managed to extrude all her spite on that single word. She hated them, she hated her, but now it didn’t matter. It was only a matter of time before the pegasus ran a blade through her throat. Yet the kind voice betrayed her captor’s true intentions, when she spoke.

“You get to be the first pony who's ever walked away from an elite kill order, so why not just co-operate?” It was more of a promise, but then that damned mare approached, sticking the glass of water down her throat. Choking on the unexpected stream of water, Scarlet spat it backwards, wetting Faith from head to toe.

She calls this a drink? What the hay is this rubbish? I only use this to brush teeth in the morning and for baths. Water is not for drinking… Vodka is. “What the hell is this? Fridge, all the door drawer is full of it. Bring over one bottle, then we talk.” It was all she said. And to prove she was serious, the techie looked away and sealed her lips.

Cleaning herself, the assassin went towards the door, going as directed. With what appeared to be a hurt voice, she answered. “I try to be hospitable and I get spit on. I’ll never understand mares.” While she was away, Scarlet couldn’t help mimicking her voice, also poking her tongue out at the unsuspecting pegasus. She returned moments later with a bottle of her cheapest vodka. I guess this will do. I hate non-connoisseurs. “So, can we try this again now, or do we have to do this the normal way?”

Scarlet’s first reflex was to make fun of the situation. This wasn’t the creed she had heard so many tales about. It was a ragtag militia, not even organized enough to support order in their own ranks. “Is the creed really that desperate. Tracking down the only killer in Fair-feather just to ask her of her welfare and info, then just let me live?”

That had obviously upset her, and not in the good way. The brown pegasus slammed the bottle into the table, almost shattering it from the force of the impact. She was trying to avoid the question, using her superiority as the interrogator to obtain her goals. “What do you know about the Hooftail division of Creed?”

Um… Duh. Have you been living in Fair-feather for more than two hours? Damn idiot. I know where they take dumps, let alone whom to kill. The answer came a bit more gracefully “Not much. They operate here in Fair-feather, along with the Shadowbrands.” She had every detail on the two divisions, but she wasn’t planning on giving them away.

Seconds later, the aroma of the liquid invaded her mouth as she took one large drink from the bottle. It feels like I’m drinking sanitary alcohol… But hell it feels good. “And, what about Lore division?” came the next question, without further pause.

This was an actually tricky question. One of the most hidden groups, it had been a pain in the flank for Ogon command for the past century. Lore assassins were never caught alive, neither had their technology and abilities ever been fully recorded. It was better to go with their cover story. The less she appeared to know, the more chances there were she’d get out of this alive and sooner. “Much better”, referring to the vodka, as the burning liquid ran down her throat. “Their intel gatherers. But I guess you knew that already.” That’s right, play dumb. She’s so smugly superior anyways.

“Yeah, I suppose I did,” came the cold, flat answer again. Scarlet was annoyed so much by this type of answers she’d have killed the brown pony where she stood, if she could. “Well, that's enough about the past, I suppose. Let's go with something easy. A meeting place or gathering ground for anypony in Hooftail?”

“You're the Creed member. You tell me.” Of course, let’s see what she knows already.

“I’m not here to explain myself. I’m here for information.” Blunt answer. Somepony, please kill her now. I promise I’ll be a good mare afterwards… Let’s see if she enjoys her own coin back at her, for a change. “Information I don’t have. I just pick them off one by one.”

Apparently, this worked, to her surprise. The interrogator looked down, somehow disappointed. Scarlet thought it’d be harder to fool an elite Creed member. She was wrong yet again, it seems. “Then I suppose you’re useless to me,” Yes! Yes! I’m free. And I’m coming to hunt you down! ““Just tell me what you do know. Any decently high ranked member.”

“I’m sorry, I would rather die before I do that.” She was serious, for the first time in that conversation. She’d have put her life on the line against that information, hooves down. However, the brown mare seemed very dissatisfied with the answer.

“You would rather die before giving up a Creed member?”

Now that you put it that way... No. Still not giving a damn. “I'd rather die before giving info to a Creed. What's up with you, anyway? Civil war?” This actually started to make her a bit curious. Did the Creed have any conflict in its midst? If so, Scarlet could exploit that to her own advantage. Yet, there was something in the pony’s eyes that changed. Her cold look changed to one of sorrow, a moment of weakness in her adversary’s careful defense.

“It. It isn’t important.”

“Then why do you want to know?” This time, she tried adding compassion. She was so close to getting the answers she had been looking for. She was so close to giving away her precious little secret. But the answer came, blunt and dry as a steel hammer hitting a desert dune.

“That's my business. Besides, you shouldn't look a gift pony in the mouth.” Another answer like the former ones. Only expected, by now Scarlet figured her opponent wasn’t dumb. Sadly, she did have a lot of valuable info she wasn’t willing to give.

“So I guess that's it then?”

“I suppose.” Scarlet was waiting for the moment she’d be unstuck again, but the glimmer in the brown mare’s eyes spoke otherwise. Removing a dagger from the bag she had, the abominable assassin turned her attention to the one thing in the room more important than the orange pegasus: Bubbles. Her evil smile betrayed her intentions “You sure you don’t have anything to tell me?”

Yes, her life meant nothing now. Not even her integrity. If she hadn’t been stuck to the couch, the techie would have fell back onto it, light headed. She tried shouting at her to stop, but all that came out was a timid squeal of fear and insecurity. “No...Not Bubbles! You wouldn’t dare!”

The obnoxious creature in the form of a pony burst out in a malefic giggle, as if understanding she had finally found her soft spot. The giggle went on for quite a few seconds, and when the brown mare finally subsided she put the tip of the dagger, without warning on the surface of the couch. “Come on, think about it. You get to keep the couch and help your cause at the same time.”

The next part of the conversation went automatically for Scarlet. Her conservation instincts kicked in, “Don't touch it! I'll... I'll... Fine” ,but she still held onto the important information with her teeth. Not even Bubbles was worth all the intel she had gathered along the month. However, she still couldn’t believe how much the pegasus would get in such a short amount of time. “I took out two of the Hooftail elites, but their master is still around.”

“A location would be nice.”

“I don't know where he is, but when he walks around, he's escorted by a detachment of upstarts. At least thirty,” That was partially a lie. She knew the Hooftail hideouts by heart, but she couldn’t guess the one in which the master was in. “He's also accompanied by the three specialists in the order.” Also a part truth. There were three, but they didn’t always get around with him: the Master of Arms, Master of Shadows and Master of Poisons. The three were the pillars of balance, should the master die unexpectedly.

“Normally I would assume I wouldn't be able to tell the escorts from regular ponies. But they don't seem that skilled here.”

“I suppose that’s all you’ve got for me, right?” The assassin prodded her couch again. One day, I’m going to kill you. She suspected telling her about the Shadowbrands wouldn’t hurt either, since she was after both of them.

“The Trade Guild has a two sided deal. The Shadowbrand’s spin massive amounts of money to bring in new recruits and weapons. Even poison material. However, they never sold me out. I'm too small of a problem and casualties make profit.” That’s all I’m giving her. It should be enough to get a few of their units off my hooves. Scarlet would have almost asked her for help, she wanted to see the mare in action. But she was too proud for that. All in all, she did also ruin her couch as well.

“I’ll deal with them later. But, maybe I can make use of them. In either case, you’ve given me enough to track them. Thank you.” She just… Thanked me? For information I would’ve given up either way in a normal torture? The hell is wrong with Creed these days? They must’ve gotten soft.

This almost gave Scarlet a feat of superiority: “Yeah yeah. If you're so desperate to kill them, then why not let me do my damn work?” The assassin hesitated, again.

“I've got my reasons. Just like I've got my reasons for letting you live.”

You’re not getting away that easily from this one. Give me one proper goddamn answer!  “Name one of each.”

“I'm about to destroy a taint and become something horrible in the process. If you want a reason for you to live, it's because Hooftail wants you dead.” I guess those were good enough reasons. She’d have left her alive for the exact same ones as well. But was that true in her own aspect? Or did she want more… No, what could I want more from a Creed? It’s good that they’re pulling out their eyes out as it is.

But Scarlet wanted a parting shot. She wasn’t ready to forgive an attack on her couch so easily. “You know... Next time we meet, we're still enemies.”

The mare took a bottle out of her bags, expressionlessly, and poured it fully onto Scarlet. Gah… Was this really necessary? “It should take about an hour, maybe less if you're lucky.” Yeah, I bet I’m going to be a very lucky mare after today.

“I'm killing you for what you did to Bubbles...” The grudge just wouldn’t go away. She was half joking, half serious. One day, when they met again, she’d make the assassin apologize to him for trying to hurt him. I’m gonna need to dry clean him. Oh, mystery pony, you don’t know who you’re messing with.

“Take it easy, that's the dissolving agent. So, take my advice. For all intents and purposes, you are dead now. Pack up your things, and leave. Find a nice new place and make a life. This place is about to become a hell hole.” Yeah, right. And miss out on a chance to take out two groups by myself? Before I know it, I’ll be the new Sora command.

As an expansion, the TWOS were split in five divisions, each with a special purpose: Terra, which usually got with the logistics and hoof to hoof battles. They were the caravan walkers and usually developed speed enhancements and close range weapons. Wasser was the backbone of the economic expansion. Even though they didn’t match the Creed, their prosperity came from dealing with overseas nations.

In the end, Ogon and Sora, the fighting divisions, were the ones in charge. Always in competition, the two raced in kill orders and Creed elimination, their rivalry sometimes threatening to erupt out of control. Luckily, the Conflux division was the one to keep things running. Conflux, or HQ, were the ones calling the shots and wether they liked it or not, everyone had to obey.

Scarlet wasn’t going to kick this chance over for anything in the world. “If I wanted advice, I'd have gone to church a long time ago. I'm leaving when the creed are dead. Including you, couch profaner.”This should make my message clear. Again, something not entirely true. She no longer had the intention to kill the brown mare.

The shadowy assailant turned away, leaving her final words behind. “Take it easy. When I'm done they will be.” Wait. I can help. No, she wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. Assassins work alone, and so do I. Either way, I would’ve liked to know her name. The techie fell in a deep state of contemplation, as the solvent did its work.  I survived an elite kill order…