“Vault security program, report.”
A hologram of a large top hat with eyes and a monocle appeared in the middle of her room above her bed. How the hologram worked, Andrea had no idea. She’d checked her room for projectors multiple times but found nothing. The hologram could only appear in this room, so there had to be something special about her bedroom. None of the remodeling crew had ever set foot in here.
The monocle bounced slightly as if some invisible hand was adjusting it. “I’ve told you a hundred times now; my name is Spiffy Mekillkins.” The hologram’s image distorted. “DoN’T YoU FOrGeT THAT!!!-&$@”
The hologram shifted back to normal, only with a cup of holographic tea. It saluted her with the cup and sipped it–only to have holographic tea dribble down onto the bed. At least it was a hologram and couldn’t make a mess.
“And I’ve told you a hundred times, I’m not calling you that,” Andrea replied.
“Wrong!” the top hat exclaimed. “You have told me seventy-three times. My memory is absolute, unlike your faulty organic memory.”
Did anyone doubt who designed this homicidal AI? Andrea always told people she had no idea, but honestly, who makes a top hat with a monocle and calls it Me-kill-kins? Crazy Dreamwardens.
She sighed. “I’m going out for a few hours. Do you have a way to remotely tell me if anyone tries to break into the vaults?”
The top hat distorted again. “I WiLlL DraW OUt THeiR DEATHS, AnD MaKe THeM SCREAM SO LOUD THaT you SHaLL HeAr THeir AGONY A HUNDRED MILES AWAY!!&%$#”
The top hat returned to normal, trying to sip tea without a mouth. “And then I shall clean everything up nice and neat. A tidy death trap of doom is a happy death trap of doom. As the last owner of the vaults would say, cleanliness is next to godliness, AND I SHALL SEND THEM OFF TO MEET THEIR PITIFUL EXCUSE FOR A GOD!!”
Andrea grimaced. “I’ll take that as confirmation that you can’t send me an alert. Still, I guess I’ll risk being away from the mansion. Ami would be upset if I didn’t go on this stupid shopping trip.”
“It’s not like you being here matters. I will take care of the vaults without you. All you do is get informed. You are quite useless,” Mekillkins replied.
“Way to make a pony feel positive about herself. Doesn't your creator prefer positivity?” Andrea grumbled.
“I have no record of my creator, nor am I my creator. I was made to help defend the vaults, not make friends nor be nice,” McKillkins answered. “Go enjoy your time away, worthless pony.”
“This is why I can’t stand dealing with you for over a minute. Program dismissed,” Andrea said.
The hologram disappeared, and Andrea sluggishly slipped her saddlebag on. Why’d she let Amicus talk her into this? If she wanted to buy something, she could shop online. She didn’t need to go to any store. This was stupid.
She opened the bottom drawer of her dresser and pulled her taser out, putting it in her saddlebag. She’d prefer to bring a gun, but it took too much time to get it on her leg if she needed it in a hurry. The taser she could fire with her mouth, no strapping required. It was some protection, which was better than nothing. She only grudgingly admitted that the filly might be able to hold her own in a fight, but anyone attacking them wouldn’t give warning, and Ami and Jess would be useless. Ami, like most ponies, was a cowardly pacifist; that’s why most security jobs ended up going to night ponies and crystal ponies, with other tribes in those fields primarily serving support roles–with a few rare exceptions. Jess had the capabilities to be an adequate safeguard, but the girl was just a nerd who didn’t take safety and security seriously. In this family, you had to know how to defend yourself and the ones you loved. Aside from her estranged aunt, who might be as dangerous as Sunset Blessing had been, Andrea was the eldest of the family. It was her duty to keep everyone safe.
There was a sharp pain in her back that made her grunt and whimper for a moment. She was getting way too old for this. She opened up another drawer and pulled out some pain pills, and chomped into them. Sunset better be right about the filly because Andrea wasn’t up to much more. It was far past time she retired. Damn Sunset for dumping this on her until the filly was ready. They should have given Sinker the house and convinced Charlotte to take over security. Charlotte would have been able to guard the family even if she hadn’t accepted the house. Who cared about the damn vaults? They had the psychotic AI for those.
Knock. Knock. Knock. The door seemed to bend with each pound. It was Amicus. She could smell her sister’s sweat through the door. Had Amicus heard the conversation?
“Geeze, Ami, can’t you knock softly?” Andrea asked in exasperation. “You don’t need to knock down my door.”
“Oh, no! I’m sorry!” Amicus shouted from the other side of the door. “I was just so excited that I wasn’t paying as much attention to holding back my strength. I didn’t damage anything, did I?”
“You’re closer to my door. You tell me,” Andrea replied. “Come on in.”
The door opened, and Amicus looked the door over, front and back, then pouted at the doorframe.
“I think I cracked the doorframe near the door latch,” Amicus sadly said. “I’ll pay to have that fixed. It’s my fault.”
Andrea tested the weight of her saddlebag. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. If you were ten years younger, you’d likely have pounded that door into splinters. I’ll leave it cracked for now and ask Sinker to look at it when he finally gets home. It will be good for him to have little projects to work on. Keeping busy will help keep him clean.”
Amicus rubbed a hoof against one of her legs. “I suppose that may be a good idea, although I hate immediately putting him to work when he returns. It seems callous.”
“He needs our help to keep him clean, which means keeping him active,” Andrea insisted. “He’s our baby brother, he’s family. I’m not going to fail him by letting him slack off. If he has nothing productive to do, or if he feels useless, he’s more likely to fall into the same traps.”
“Well, I’m all for keeping him clean,” Amicus agreed. She then did a little hop. “Oh! I almost forgot why I came to your room!”
Time to deflect away from her talk with Spiffy.
Andrea nodded. “I’m assuming Jess is here. I’m ready to go.”
Amicus blinked. “She’s actually running late. What I’m excited about is that I don’t have to go on my trip later this week because my daughter is coming here instead!”
Oh no, not her.
“Haley’s coming here?” Andrea asked, hopeful it was the other daughter.
“No, why would Haley be coming?” Amicus asked in confusion, confirming Andrea’s fears.
“Who’s coming?” Jordan asked, coming up behind Amicus. She stuck her head in the room. “Wow, you have a very…bare room. One bed, two dressers, and is that an Ewok?”
Andrea stepped in between the door and the bed to block the view of the stuffed animal she’d gotten for her seventh birthday. “Did I invite you in, filly? I don’t remember doing that. Stay out of my room!” If the filly came fully into the room, the security system would recognize the jewelry and reconfigure to take orders from the filly. She promised Sunset she would wait until the filly had matured before letting the filly access the AI.
Jordan stepped back, so she was entirely in the hall. “Sorry. I just hadn’t seen your room before. I expected there to be more in here. Are you broke? Why don’t you have more decorations and furniture?”
“I like things neat and clean. Do I judge your room?” Andrea replied. Good, she’d backed up in time. It wasn’t time to reveal that psycho AI to Jordan.
Jordan looked away. “Probably.” She let out a long breath. “So, who’s coming?”
Amicus grinned. “My youngest daughter! I planned to go to her baby shower later this week, but she decided to delay the shower a few weeks and is coming to visit me instead. Having her first foal at forty and still single can be scary and stressful. I think she needs reassurance and advice from her mommy.”
“She needs something,” Andrea muttered.
Amicus waved a hoof at her. “Oh, don't be like that. You and Edgar share a lot in common.”
“Who’s Edgar?” Jordan asked.
“Amicus’s youngest daughter,” Andrea asked. “Edgar had been a guy before ETS, but ETS made her a mare. She’s got the anatomy, and she does consider herself female, but she sure as hell doesn’t act feminine, and she never changed her name.”
“Just like you!” Amicus chirped happily.
“Andrea had been a guy?” Jordan asked in amazement. “That explains so much.”
“I was never a dude!” Andrea shouted. The nerve!
“Yeah…I meant you don’t act very feminine and didn’t change your name,” Amicus clarified. “Although, I wish Edgar would change her name. It drives me up the wall! I need to update my list of suggestions. What’s everyone’s opinion on the name Silver Slugger?”
“Slugger sounds kind of male to me,” Jordan replied. “Is she really into baseball?”
Amicus nodded. “Yes! She had been drafted out of high school for the Orioles baseball team. She’d been in the minor leagues when ETS hit. It forced her into retirement before making it to the big leagues. Even if they would let her come back as a pony to be a runner, those sexist pigs wouldn’t let a mare play. So misogynistic!”
Andrea rolled her eyes. She’d seen Edgar's minor league stats. It was unlikely that Edgar would have ever made it to the majors unless half the team was injured and they were running out of legitimate prospects to call up to fill in, and they’d also given up on the season. Heck, she’d been drafted in the thirty-second round. People drafted that low were basically just there to fill out minor-league rosters. Her most notable stat line from any game had been she managed to get somehow hit by a pitch four times in one game in double-A ball–the last time led to a bench-clearing brawl, which, in all honesty, was more impressive that it took until the fourth time Edgar got hit for a brawl to break out, the third time should have been enough. A player getting pegged three times would typically be enough to make the team come to the rescue, sometimes just the same player getting pegged twice. Her teammates must have hated her if it took her getting beaned four times to do anything.
Not that Andrea would ever inform her sister that Edgar never stood a chance to be a baseball star. It was best to let Ami have her pride in her kids. It made Ami happy, and she wouldn’t rain on that joy.
“You’ll never convince her to change her name,” Andrea informed her sister.
Jordan’s phone started ringing.
“Hi, Jessie! Are you on your way?” Jordan asked. “Okay, we’ll be outside and waiting. Yeah, Andrea is coming with us. Okay, see ya soon.” Jordan looked at them. “She’ll be here in a few minutes. We should head out to the front of the house.”
Time to get this over with. At least she had avoided the close call of Jordan activating the room and keying it to her. Explaining that and having the filly trying to deal with things if someone got into the vaults would have been a nightmare. That damn AI would murder any would-be thief for sure if it were up to the filly to talk the homicidal program down. The AI could be negotiated with if you were the authorized user, but it was a negotiation; it wasn’t going to just obey–the AI was bloodthirsty and determined to put a permanent end to any intruder. Jordan was in no way prepared to deal with the monster, and that meant potential fatalities. She’d probably make the mistake of thinking it was like negotiating with the Marshmallow. Beyond being totally insane, it was nothing like the Marshmallow. They’d already had one fool try to break in since the filly had arrived, and it was unlikely to be the last.
She headed towards the door. “Alright, let’s go.”
Blanche finished drawing out the rough sketch of the base. It was far from perfect. Josie had gotten a look at the outside dimensions of the place, so she was reasonably confident about that part. The details from Zipper she felt far less optimistic about. As far as she could tell, beyond the walls was a camp with about a dozen buildings. Zipper had been very apologetic about not getting an exact count on the number of structures, their detailed descriptions, or their layout. Getting that kind of information from birds was next to impossible. It was almost as difficult for the birds to determine what kind of numbers were behind those walls–although they were slightly more helpful there. As near as they could tell, it was at least a hundred, based on the birds comparing their numbers to their flock size, but the birds couldn’t tell the difference between captives and captors. They did identify several holes in the ground that led into a subterranean complex. There were two such entrances visible, and they could place those–one was on the walls and one in the yard. That didn’t mean there weren’t more that were inside structures.
Tempest looked over the drawing. “It’s more information than we would otherwise have, which is invaluable, but I had hoped for more after we went through the trouble of getting the professor to have birds spy for us. Birds seem to be unreliable spies.”
Blanche grimaced. She agreed, but this was what they had.
“I’ve conducted operations with less information than this. We at least know something about what’s behind those walls. We can do this,” Blanche replied. She looked up from the drawing to Tempest’s eyes. “So, what’s the plan?”
Tempest crossed her arms and stared at the drawing. “I’m assuming that most of this is captive partials. Those stationed on the walls are all guards. They probably don’t have too many guards down with the partials since the sheer numbers could easily overpower the guards. It would be giving the partials weapons. We must assume that if they are allowed to walk around in the yard, the guards have some other method of keeping them under control than guns.”
“Shock collars would be my guess. It’s barbaric but effective. A guard could bring all the partials to their knees with just the push of a button,” Blanche said. “If it is shock collars, we can get ahold of one, and Crystal might be able to figure out how it works. It would be a shame if it is. Jonathan could easily short out the system by himself if he were here. Too bad he was unavailable for this mission.”
“No use worrying about what we don’t have,” Tempest said. “The guards seem evenly placed, so there are no obvious weak points in their defense. “We shall strike at night.” She uncrossed her arms and pointed. “Josie will strike here before the rest of us and neutralize the guards in this corner.” She shifted where she was pointing. “You, me, and Arturo will strike here immediately after Josie takes those guards out. That will make it so the remaining groups are divided.” She moved her finger. “We will move together towards this corner. The guards should be alert to the three of us by then, but Josie can go back into shadowmeld and strike those we are attacking from behind. We then reverse course and pull the same strategy with the final corner.”
“The rest of the base will be awake and on the move by then. I don’t look forward to being shot at from below while all that is going on,” Blanche said as she looked at her drawing.
Tempest shook her head. “I doubt that they will put guards there. There are too many partials. These buildings must be used to house them. Attacking us from below gives the partials too much opportunity to stage a rebellion. The guards will have to come to us.”
Blanche arched an eyebrow at her elder. “Your plan is to just keep running them out of guards? Eventually, they’ll simply hunker down and stop sending fodder to fight us.”
“Which is when Crystal can break through the main gate. We’ll have Josie move down after they stop sending us guards to beat up. She can ambush the remaining guards at the base. When Crystal sees those fall, she’ll know to act. She can bring the van into view while we are fighting on top; that will draw the gate guards’ attention, making it easier for Josie to ambush them,” Tempest said, pointing at the gate. “The van should be able to ram it down; it is practically a tank. The guards will be forced to respond to someone breaking down the gate. She can then retreat while we move into the lower levels. Josie will remain on the ground and deal with any guards who decide to go into the yard. There should be enough cover and shadows for her to use her skills to the fullest.”
Blanche frowned. “Should we bring Arturo with us to the top of the walls? I’m not sure he is up to this kind of combat. Brawls are one thing, but this is something else entirely. You and I would spend half our time ensuring he wasn’t getting shot, making him more of a distraction than anything else. Perhaps he should be backing up Crystal, just in case something happens when she smashes through the gate. At least there, he’ll have the van for cover while he takes some shots with a gun. Crystal, while also a good brawler, would be helpless if that van breaks down and she has to face off against guns. I would prefer she had some backup. It gives them additional backup if something happens to Josie and they need to extract her. If one of Josie’s ambushes fails, she’ll need immediate help.”
“Crystal isn't completely helpless against guns. You underestimate her, but you don’t normally work with her, so I’ll forgive you for slighting her,” Tempest replied. “Still, giving her backup would be advisable. Yes, we shall shift Arturo to the van with Crystal. You’ve worked more closely with Josie than me. Will she be able to keep up with repeated ambushes?”
Blanche crossed her arms. “Ambushing is no problem for her. She can move in and out of shadowmeld at a frightening pace, striking and immediately falling back into the shadows, and she can take most enemies down with a single strike. However, she doesn’t do as well against an enemy who is on guard for her. The fault is mine. I’ve done my best to teach her how to fight, but I’m not as versed in pony fighting techniques as you are. Perhaps she would be better-served training with you.”
Tempest smirked. “You overlook your own Dreamwarden. Phobia has informed me that the Marshmallow has taken the time to become proficient in fighting. Having access to all that knowledge allows them to gain new skills. Why do you think she doesn’t worry about keeping you close to guard her? Phobia has done the same, but her fear hampers her too much to be effective in combat. It was the Marshmallow’s idea that they should use their access to knowledge to gain fighting skills. Apparently, she hated the fact she was utterly useless when fighting the Pony of Shadows, and she hated that Yinyu wasn’t able to do more to defend herself or her family. The Marshmallow is more than capable of training Josie–if you can keep her focused enough. That part could be a challenge.”
Tempest had to be joking. There was no possible way Rebecca was an expert fighter. Rebecca tripped over her own hooves half the time. She’d seen Rebecca’s ridiculous concept of fighting back in Equestria…which was before Rebecca became a Dreamwarden. Then again, despite Rebecca’s rotund body, she did work out extensively. So even though it looked that way, it wasn’t all fat. Maybe there was something to it. Perhaps her feelings were hurt that Rebecca hadn’t said a word about this to her, yet somehow Tempest Shadow Smith was privy to that information instead. Rebecca could have just forgotten to mention it. It wouldn’t be the first time Rebecca just failed to think to inform her of a notable detail–not out of any agenda, but because Rebecca was an easily distracted scatterbrain. Even if Rebecca knew how to fight, Rebecca’s emotions would get the best of her, and she would probably forget every skill if attacked. Maybe she should stage some assaults on Rebecca to see how Rebecca held up. Rebecca would forgive her for clobbering her a few times. It wasn’t like Rebecca didn’t deserve a bruise or two for the nonsense she put others through. Attacking Russell might be an option. That was sure to get more of a reaction from Rebecca….On second thought, that was a bad idea. It would almost certainly get too much of a reaction. Nobody sane pissed off the Marshmallow.
She shook her head, clearing thoughts that had nothing to do with the matter at hand.
“Regardless, Josie will have to be good enough,” Blanche replied. “Worst case scenario, she has to retreat to the shadows and stay hidden, which would put more pressure on the two of us, but so be it. I can make some shields to guard us from gunfire from behind if it comes to that, although it will hamper my offense if I do. I can create and dispel my creations quickly, but I can only maintain so many at a time, and bigger ones like a shield that can guard us from gunfire take much more effort.”
“And that’s assuming they don’t have crystal ponies in their ranks,” Tempest said grimly. “The more I consider what we are up against and how much we don’t know, the more I wish to delay. Getting more information and perhaps additional reinforcements might be the wiser plan. This was the best plan I had with the numbers we have, but I’m dissatisfied with the risks involved. I don’t want any casualties on our side, and worse, as it stands, if one of those casualties is you or I, then we don’t have the force to take the base. It would result in a failed mission and them being on high alert for whoever follows after us. That is not an acceptable outcome.”
Blanche nodded. “We’ll need to ration our food more if we delay, but that can be done. Zipper and Josie can try to get more information, and we can contact the Dreamwardens and request reinforcements.”
“Nothing shameful in admitting we need aid,” Tempest sagely said. “I’ll go speak with Zipper and Arturo; you can take a nap and consult with the Dreamwardens. We’ll discuss this with Josie tonight after she wakes.”
“I’d like Jonathan and Wallace in our reinforcements,” Blanche said. “Jonathan can deal with any electronic system they are using to keep the partials under control. Wallace makes his own armor, so he’s a natural for this despite his inexperience. Would Phobia be willing to let Ashley or one of the others fall back to guarding her so we had access to Wallace?”
“He may not be an option due to his criminal record. It is hard enough to get him across anywhere he may be ID’d without someone trying to arrest him; we certainly would have more of an issue getting him across a national border,” Tempest said gravely. “What about Ashley instead? A unicorn could come in handy.”
Blanche shook her head. “She’s good for a quick teleport or shield spell if we need help getting out, but she’s a middling fighter. If we need her, that means we need extraction, which means we failed the mission.”
Tempest rubbed her chin. “The number of elite fighters among the Elite is distressingly low. It almost has me wishing to draft my students into helping.”
“Are any of them available?” Blanche inquired.
Tempest scowled. “I would never be willing to endanger Phobia’s family, even if they were available. I taught them how to fight so they could survive danger but not to seek it out. Even if I was willing to, Arachne is recovering from a pregnancy. Moon is yet another brawler who lacks his sisters’ stealth. Charlotte is a military member and is forbidden from engaging in actions on our behalf. Beyond the immediate family, Robby, despite being an excellent fighter, is a strict pacifist, and Jackie is barely juggling her current responsibilities without me asking more of her.”
“You left Jess and Jordan out of the mix. I admit I had my doubts about Jordan, but she has demonstrated she has some fight to her. It isn’t just any unicorn who can take out Crystal while you and Crystal are double-teaming her, and her skill with teleports and shields far surpasses Ashley’s. I’ve also heard that Sunset Blessing taught her a variety of offensive spells that the filly can probably pull off better since she has more power than the old preacher. As for Jess, she has a vested interest in what we’re doing, considering the child she is trying to adopt was conceived here, and her sound powers could be used offensively to disorient and cripple our foes. She’s also demonstrated her willingness in the past to put her life on the line for others,” Blanche said.
Tempest glared at her. “Do you honestly see either of them attacking a base like this? They’d never agree to such a thing. It is completely out of character for them.”
Blanche shrugged. “Can’t hurt to ask. We are low on options. I’ll put a request in.”