//------------------------------// // Chapter 12 // Story: Got Your Six // by Revel Montaro //------------------------------// Tempest yawned before shaking her head, tossing her magenta mane about. As if on cue, Flash Sentry’s head split with a wide yawn as well. Tempest could not keep from snorting at the simple humor of it all. Maybe yawns really were contagious. The morning had been a bit of a blur of paperwork, inspections, and atypical guard watching. They all seemed to move with a hesitation to their routines. Something was off, but Tempest was unsure what exactly. It could have had something to do with the couriers Sugarcoat had reported or it was because the captain was eyeing each of them as if they were all guilty of numerous crimes against the crown. Perhaps eyeing was not elaborate enough of a description since she was in fact glaring at them with her trademark dark scowl she had mastered years ago and they would each know her displeasure at the entire ugly business of it all. She would have fired them all and have the guilty marched to Tartarus in chains then start over with fresh troops if she could, but that was not realistic. Frustrated only scratched the surface of how the ordeal made Tempest feel on top of all the other things that were going on. Stupid dirty guards. Stupid body going into heat at the worst possible time. Tempest had discovered, like nearly all mares, that when her estrus began that all her senses went into overdrive. Colors were too bright, sounds too loud, smells… dear gods the smells. Good smells were intoxicating while even faint disliked odors were nauseating. She had become too focused on her job and waited too long to find a potion master to take the right mixtures to bypass her cycle. It was happening and there was no stopping it now. However, she reminded herself once again she should still find the right elixirs to purchase so as to maintain her physical and mental control. Otherwise, she would not be able to trust herself to be alone in the same room with Flash Sentry. Despite her plight, the junior officer continued to walk alongside his captain as she moved on to the next objective on her mental checklist marching straight for the officer's quarters. Tempest spared him a side glance. He had to be able to smell her pheromones by now if it was strong enough she could smell herself, but Flash was maintaining discipline by keeping his eyes forward only. Something Tempest greatly appreciated because she was failing to keep her own eyes forward, sneaking in another glance. The officer's quarters building was nearly the same size as each of the company barracks, but instead of being a large open room lined with beds and hooflockers each officer was given a private room that could at least offer a smidge of privacy. The walls, after all were still paper thin and if one wanted to could easily shout to a fellow officer without having to open the door. However, with rank also came responsibility and the privilege also included a small desk space for working. As they passed a few doors Flash did not need to ask who they were checking on. The pair marched up to the door of Flag Staff’s quarters and did not bother to knock, instead Tempest elected to overwhelm his basic spell locks and kick the door open. “Up and at’em.” Flag Staff fell out of bed nearly hitting his head on the small desk before scrambling about searching around for either a weapon or shield, but regained his senses a moment later realizing who was standing before him. Tempest would have had the space searched more thoroughly for her missing armor if the room had been any bigger than a private broom closet, but Flag Staff did not even have the usual clutter of family photos and personal décor. It was one of the reasons guards with families lived off compound grounds. Flag Staff cursed and spat under his breath at the unexpected and likely unwanted intrusion. “Can I help you?” “Yes, you can. You can tell me where my ferronite armor is and who else you know is on the take so that I can put this ridiculous show piece back on the display stand where it belongs and get back to working in comfort. Otherwise, I will need to drag you before the princess and find other means of getting the information I want. I really don’t want to bother Twilight about this, but I will because it is that serious.” Flag Staff snorted again, shrugging and looking far too confident for an officer who was under house arrest and about to lose everything. “I have nothing for you at the moment, captain.” “I gave you more time to consider your life’s choices. If you choose to squander that because you think the nobility will protect you then you are a bigger fool than I originally thought. You’re a tool and they don’t care about you any more than they care about the dirt stuck to their gilded horseshoes. You don’t owe them anything.” Flag Staff finally sat up straight and squared his posture so that he could look Tempest in the eye as much as he could considering her taller frame. “I have nothing for you. This will all end just the way it’s supposed to no matter what you do to me. Like you said, I’m just a tool.” Tempest’s horn burned and sparked for a moment. She had to reel it back in given the small space or risk setting something on fire. “Fine. Lieutenant Sentry, place the former guard under arrest and slap him in irons. We’re going to go have a small chat with Lady Inkwell and the princess.” “Gladly.” Flash reached into his armor kit and used a wing to extract a set of leg irons. He took two steps closer when Flag Staff raised his forehooves and pressed his back to the wall. “Okay, okay! You win!” Flag Staff pleaded pathetically. Tempest held up a hoof to pause Flash’s advance, the blue eyes of the pegasus never losing their laser focus. “The armor is not in the barracks anymore, but I know who has it. If you let me leave the compound grounds I can go get it.” “You can’t possibly think I am that stupid,” Tempest said with a growling undertone. “Obviously you can send an escort with me or even yourself if you like. It’s best to wait until dark though, if I’m spotted helping you I’ll end up with a dagger between my ribs before I ever have a chance to leave the city and hope to start a new life far, far away from all this political crap.” Flag Staff sighed, eyes downcast, ears flat. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I was like you once, both of you. I cared about doing a good job serving the ponies of this city, never took a bribe for most of my early career, and at the end of the day all I wanted to do was the right thing. It’s just… They look at it as just part of the business equation. The nobility I mean. The council tries to work with the princess or princesses and their ideals, but those high and mighty standards don’t always apply to reality. And Twilight is trying twice as hard to be even a bigger idealist than Celestia because she’s still young and actually cares. Maybe Celestia started that way, but that was long before any of us came along.” Tempest scowled darkly, flashing her teeth. “You don’t get to call her so casually by name. She is Princess Twilight Sparkle to you, understand me? Those ideals you want to ridicule are how and why she is where she is today. Maybe if you had stuck to the principles you claim to have once had you would have made captain. You certainly would not be on my shit list. I will be back one hour after sunset to collect you myself and then you will take me where we need to go. This is your last chance to do the right thing, more importantly, it's you last chance to get out of this with your freedom. In the meantime, unless you want to see the inside of a cell for the rest of your glory years you better use your spare time to start working on a list of names. I don't care how insignificant. I want them all.” Flag Staff nodded defeatedly. Without another word Tempest turned and walked away. Once she was outside the officer’s quarters she turned back to Flash. “Have another watch placed. Preferably a thestral if you can find one. Then go get yourself some lunch. After that I need you to work with Flanker this afternoon on the drills.” “Okay, but what about you?” Tempest sighed, placing a hoof over her face and debating for a moment if she should lie or just tell the truth. She peeked under her hoof at his concerned face and felt her cheeks and other places heat up. Dammit, why does he have to always hit me with those big blue eyes. “I… just… dammit… I know you can smell me. I've ignored this for too long as it is and if I wait another day I’ll be at my peak and then everyone will be smelling me. I need to go to a potion shop and get some elixirs before my heat gets any worse. I can’t stop the cycle now, but from what I read I can at least get something to calm it and keep me from doing something I shouldn’t. I didn’t have to worry about this crap as much before being away from other ponies, but being back in Equestria just set my body off something fierce.” Flash fought his smirk as best he could, but had to cough to give himself an excuse to cover his own flushed cheeks. He thought he had caught THAT familiar scent that assaults the senses, but had not dared ask if it had been intentional or not. “I, I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t know what your plans on the matter were, you being single and all unless you are seeing somepony I don't actually know for sure, but okay, yeah, I understand totally annnnnd I will just shut up now before I say something stupid.” “I appreciate everything you have done for me, Flash. You’ve been a good friend and subordinate helping me get established here and I respect you as a fellow soldier... I… I don’t really want to say more otherwise I might blurt out something I can’t take back. Just… after you have seen to your orders go ahead and take the rest of the afternoon off. I don't have anything else planned for the rest of the current shift. According to what the articles I read said the elixirs that I need take time to take effect and I need to be by myself for that.” “Right, sure. I can drop by later tonight to see how things go with Flag if you like or bright and early tomorrow morning. Whichever you prefer.” Tempest’s smile was nearly predatory, her mind conjuring a fantasy of the pegasus joining her for a late night rendezvous. She had to quickly shake the thoughts away. “I… don’t trust myself right now… maybe tomorrow would be better. Besides, two strong, virile stallions like you and Flanker can keep things together until then, yes?” Her eyes widened as she played back her words in her head, mulberry face turning several shades of crimson. She quickly turned away from Flash's wide eyed expression and trotted away. “Oh my… I… Right! Leaving now!” Just strike me down with a lightning bolt. I can't believe I just said that! ---------- It had been relatively easy to find what she was after. After all, it was that time of the year and Tempest knew she was not the only one going through that ridiculous annual call of nature. In the Storm Guard she had gotten by mostly through ignoring it and just dealing with the drips and sweats and over sensitivity to all the different stimuli. The yeti shock troopers never seemed to notice or were too scared of her to comment. When there were stallions among the ranks she would simply order them on mission then lock herself away for a time and claim to be sick until the worst of it passed, which was at least a half truth. It was only later that she had learned that most Equestrian mares got around nature with a little help from some science, unicorn magic, and a touch of zebra alchemy. The potion master who liked to refer to herself as a pharmacist had been very helpful. Tempest had explained to her exactly what happened and how far along she was and what she wanted. The plump, mustard colored earth pony named Basil Woodpestle had listened to all her rambling with a polite smile even thought she probably could have cut the guard captain off at anytime to take her to what she needed. The only difference between the two potions that would work for Tempest in her current state was that one would regulate her hormones and give her clarity and protect her from unwanted pregnancy, while the other just offered the clarity. The price difference was significant if truthfully irrelevant, but what should have been a no brainer choice left Tempest hesitant. She was not young anymore, she reminded herself. Not old by any definition and still within the range of safe foal bearing, but not for much longer. Would it truly be so terrible to give in to her body's desire? The should be simple choice left Tempest conflicted, mind racing at the possibilities. Did she want to be a mother someday? Ever? Could she see herself and a stallion like Flash Sentry as parents? Would he want to? Perhaps they could meet up and she could just raise the foal in secret and... Tempest had to shake her head and smack her cheeks a few times to get ahold of her thoughts. The pharmacist just smiled knowingly, no doubt suspecting that Tempest’s mind had drifted to thoughts of a companion. Basil had quietly suggested that if she needed 'additional' help that most mares were more than happy to help a friend quench the more carnal desires that accompanied a heat cycle. Tempest blushed far more profusely than she cared for, selected the bottle she wanted, and hoofed over the bits before the conversation became more uncomfortable, making her way out. She understood that the comment was made as a polite courtesy knowing that most Equestrian ponies were more fluid when it came to sexuality, but Tempest had a hard enough time being intimate with stallions. The thought of sharing herself with a mare, even a close friend, frankly scared her. Tempest had not waited a second longer than she had to down the first of what would be three doses of the potion. According to the directions it could take up to twelve hours for the desired effects to take hold. Not ideal, but if it got most of the sights and smells under control by sunset then it was still a win in her mind. Without any other plans Tempest returned to her office to finish going through her paperwork, including writing multiple copies of Flag Staff’s official termination to be circulated so that no guards would accidentally follow his orders should he choose to violate the terms of their agreement. After finishing every conceivable thing that could be done on paper, Tempest tried going through basic meditative combat forms. It helped calm her mind and hopefully helped get her heart pumping enough to speed up the blood circulation of the elixir. It was nearly an hour after sunset when Tempest heard a knocking on her door. She had just finished a simple dinner and was planning to take a quick shower before going to fetch Flag Staff for the retrieval mission. Her first thought was that Flash had gone against her wishes and returned anyhow, but the knock sounded different than the way he usually pounded on her door. Tempest quickly downed her water and strapped on her armor before opening the door to find an unfamiliar guard standing before her. He seemed a bit on the slight side, almost too skinny to properly fill out his armor. His fur nearly the same shade of honey brown as his eyes. The only distinguishable thing about him. “Captain Tempest?” “I am. I don’t think we’ve met.” “No, ma’am, not directly at least, but I have seen you drilling the officers and moving about the barracks. Private Wagoneer. I was asked to come get you. You are escorting Lieutenant Flag Staff out tonight, yes?” Alarm bells went off inside Tempest’s head. That was not general information meaning either Flash spoke on it or Flag Staff had. If the former lieutenant blabbed, it was more than likely to another corrupt guard. Tempest scowled at the guard in front of her. "Were you the guard Lieutenant Sentry assigned to stand watch over Flag Staff?" "Uh, no, ma'am, I am just the messenger." Without moving outside Tempest inhaled, her olfactory senses still in overdrive despite the estrus potions she had taken. There was something off putting about Wagoneer. His stance was weak and of poor discipline. He smelled… nervous? He was sweating, but it was not the sweet, attractive musk scent of a confident, masculine stallion like Flash or Flanker. The wind shifted a bit and her other senses detected smells and shuffling sounds of bodies nearby, far too close to her office. Tempest lunged to slam the door closed when an armored hoof stepped in from where they were hiding and jammed it open. “Dammit, Wagon, how did you screw even this up?!” Tempest growled and pulled the door back open, causing the assailant to fall off balance. She slammed her hoof into the face of the new guard who she did not recognize and felt the satisfying crunch of broken cartilage followed by a spray of blood. “I’d like to say I’m surprised by this, but after everything I’ve been through since taking this job I’m really not.” Tempest was about to step out of her office to continue the beat down when a griffon swung down from where they had been hiding and kicked her back into the office. Tempest stumbled over the chair that had been left in place and fell to the floor. The griffon pulled an object from their satchel and smashed it on the ground, the thick, hazy cloud of gas permeated quickly in the small space. Without hesitating, the assailant flapped and jumped back out of the room, pulling the door shut behind them. Tempest at first thought it might be a gorgon sphere and that once again she’d find herself trapped in cold stone petrification like she had after the siege. But despite her best effort to not breathe in the unknown cloud the vapor burned her nose causing her to inhale and sneeze. After that it was impossible to not cough and hack, her vision going slightly blurry. The griffon landed next to his boss who was standing with his massive arms crossed, his expression satisfied with the mission thus far if albeit bored. If that was all it took to take down the once great and ruthless Tempest Shadow then perhaps she really had gone soft as the rumors said. Pity. The door to the captain’s annex exploded outwards, pieces flying off all directions and the rest hanging by broken hinges. Tempest emerged from the cloud with a drunken sway to her steps, her horn sparking like an angry firecracker. Tempest coughed again, checking her flanks to get an idea of who she was up against and how many. Normally, there would be guards moving about the compound, even at this hour coming or going to patrol routes in the usual directions with plenty that would have seen or heard the ruckus. But none of the usuals were about. In fact, there were no guards, not even the thestrals nearby. Someone had likely sent them away and planned the ambush attack thoroughly. The few guards she could see through bleary eyes were most likely not there to assist. “Well, well, well. I guess you still are in top form, little pony.” Tempest’s breath caught, a shiver running down her spine. She knew that voice. The voice that plagued many of her nightmares. “I had heard you had gone legit since the Big Boss’s fall, but this is pathetic. Working for the little purple princess, really? I guess you never really left home or whatever. Now me, I made the most of the chaos and grabbed some loot, some useful muscle and went back to what I was good at, good ol’ mercenary work.” “Garkiss,” Tempest growled between her labored breaths. “Been a while, Stumpy. You look pathetic in that costume armor, in case no one here had the balls to tell you. What a shame about your commander plate, huh?” Tempest fought to keep her jade eyes on the creature before her. The satyr was tall, muscular, adorn in linked plates of black armor, but what was most noticeable was his missing left horn. Where the Storm King had been a lean and menacing creature that moved with arrogant poise, Garkiss was a scarred and terrifying tank that lumbered more than walked. He smiled at the genuine hate and fear she extruded in equal measure. Tempest’s mind betrayed her. Terrible memories of her time training under the monster before her. Garkiss had been the one who slayed the yeti chieftain and brought their tribe under the Storm King's banner for their master. That bloody campaign had ruined his left leg making it too difficult for him to lead assaults from the front anymore. But he still had fight in him and plenty of use for the Storm King. It was said that when the Storm King was just starting out he only had a few trusted lieutenants and a few dozen useful bands of raiders. Chief among them all was his fellow satyr, Garkiss. As the army grew so did Garkiss’s responsibility, seeing to it that all that joined the Storm King were fearless, loyal, and powerful. The satyr hated any creature deemed weak in his mind. He hated ponies with a passion and took extra steps to ensure that any who joined the Storm Guard were broken, preferably under his iron clad hoof. Few survived his efforts and most that did made sure they stayed as far away from the sadist as possible. The satyr had broken many a creature in the name of training for fun and let them die slowly because the sound amused him. Even Tempest had not escaped unscathed. Many of her scars were from his attempts to see her further broken. Where Tempest had rose through the ranks to lead the expeditionary assault forces, Garkiss had been named commander of the occupation forces that had terrorized the Storm King’s conquered holdings, often recruiting (forceful impressment) of the defeated to bolster their ranks. The horrors and crimes he had inflicted upon those that would not yield were unspeakable. However, his greatest crime against her, the one that haunted her, fueled much of her hate, and mental anguish… NO! DON’T THINK ABOUT IT! FOCUS DAMMIT! Tempest shook her head and snarled, firing a blast that had little control, lightning and colorful sparks arching about. The blast had been easy for her enemies to dodge as they moved to surround her. There were nine of them, unless she was seeing body doubles. Whatever had been in that sphere was still clouding her mind. “I don’t know how you got into the city without me finding out, but the only way you are leaving here is in chains or in a wooden box!” Tempest took a step to her left and let loose another blast. This one caught the guard flat hoofed and electrocuted him inside his own armor, the smell of burning hair offending her nose. Without pause she fluidly moved to the next one, a griffon female who pulled a short sword from her belt. Despite her sluggish senses and reaction time Tempest blocked the sloppy swing and stepped in, crushing the griffon’s back paw and grinding the metal hoofguard on the broken toes. The griffon would have screamed, but Tempest jabbed her in the throat, sending the merc to the ground. Tempest’s eyes turned to her real enemy and he turned to meet her burning glare. Garkiss chuckled. Tempest hated that sound. It was that same arrogant sound he made when he stood by after encouraging that dragon whose name she had long chosen to forget had his way with her. It was an arrogant sound and she wanted to rip out his throat so that the only sound left he could make was choking on his own blood, gasping for air. “In a fair fight, I have no doubt you could take me. Even my ferronite plates would be no match for some of the moves you got. But I didn’t survive this long by fighting fair.” Garkiss snapped his fingers. Tempest caught a glimpse of the shadow passing over the moon light a moment before the sizable creature dropped down on top of her. She should have been able to move, should have dodge it, but her reaction time was worse than the last time she had drank half a barrel of hard cider. Tempest tried to move, tried to angle her horn for a clear shot when a massive dragon claw the size of her head pressed her face into the dirt hard enough to rattle teeth. For a few seconds she was certain the creature was going to crush her skull to pulp. With the last of her fury Tempest let loose a blast that did little more than tickle the dragon's scales. She grunted and continued to twist to find some leverage, hearing the steps of hooves and claws close the circle around her. No matter how hard she struggled, Tempest could not break free, her frantic heart beats pounding in her own ears, pain building behind her horn from use and the claw pressing down harder. “I know you, little pony. I know what you hate," the satyr leaned in close, his stinking breath of rotting teeth and whatever his last meal was making her stomach churn to the point she might vomit. "I know what you fear.” Garkiss smiled, his yellowed teeth gleaming in the night as the circle of enemies all chuckled and jeered, one of which she just realized was a smirking Flag Staff. “Make no mistake, old friend, we are going to kill you tonight. But not until after you have begged us to do so.” The last thing Tempest saw was the satyr’s hoof slamming into her face.