6 pool.
Not even ‘six’ pool, but 6 pool. It is a term that has fallen somewhat into antiquity. Perhaps it is for the best, for those who know of it...they wish they did not.
It is enough that ye know of us who have suffered for it, us who have trembled and shuddered, that the 6 pool is a breaker of spirits.
Perhaps the most downtrodden victims of this treachery are the SCV’s, but the most notable is surely That One Lonely Marine that faces these impossible odds.
For once, though, he did not stand alone.
“So, you’re a dentist?” he asked quizzically.
“Yep,” Colgate said, grinning her wide, impossibly luminescent teeth. It paid to advertise, after all. All the marine got from the view, however, was a compelling urge to never remove his visor around this mare. Something fearful lurked in that smile.
Almost as fearful as what surely bore down upon them now. He shuffled restlessly on the spot, glancing northwards every few seconds.
“Look, I think you took a wrong turn somewhere, this is a bad place to be, you understand?”
Colgate went on smiling. “No, my directions were quite exact.”
“So, what? You’re gonna help us fend off a ludicrously early att- They’re here!” he screamed suddenly. Hefting his rifle, he sprayed lead like so much spittle at the rabid, ravenous pack of zerglings that bore down upon.
Quick! pull the mineral line, get them SCV’s in a wall with some lovesong action going and step-fire that marine to next saturday! We can hold! We CAN hold!!
If only there was such a voice of reason to guide them.
There wasn’t.
What actually happened in those first exicted seconds was this:
The SCV’s, being SCV’s panicked, ran, and bumped into everything as they fled every which way. The marine stood and fired, screaming his face off in terror, not even thinking to focus his fire on any particular zergling - indeed many, if not all of his shots went high.
Zerglings are quite small, after all.
It looked to be another footnote in a long biography of 6 pool tragedy...
Except for the cheerful blue pony, who’s expression shifted to one of professional inquiry and concetration. There was only the slightest crease to her brow as, driving upwards with her back hooves, Colgate caught one lunging zergling under the chin. She sprung forward as it flipped head over heels so that she landed straddling its chest.
“I haven’t seen any of you before,” she said with slight disapproval. The slathering jaws snapped furiously at her. Colgate didn’t seem to notice the red-seeing death threat inches from her eyes. In fact, she moved in closer to get a good look at the teeth as they gnashed the air she exhaled.
“You know it’s never too early - or too late - for a checkup.” She crammed a hoof into the hinge of its jaw, quite oblivious to the wails of terror and shrieks of zerglings around her.
The marine ran by, bunted a lunging zergling away with the butt of his rifle, then ran on, screaming as three more bounded after him.
“Hmm...everything looks pretty good, truth be told. Fresh from the hatchery, are you? This your first visit?”
The zergling screamed mindless murder, though the effect was somewhat lost for the way its jaw was held open.
“You don’t say? Had a mutalisk from there in last week.” Making small talk was a noble pursuit in the hallowed ranks of the dentist. After a fruitful career in dentistry, making sense of animalistic shrieks and howls - not just in other languages but in no language at all - was actually quite easy. Colgate was quite proud of the B+ she’d gotten in the Garble Jargon course she’d taken at dentistry college.
“Well, truth be told, I had to fire a grappling hook around its neck from a thirty two thousand foot freefall and drill that cavity on the wing,” she shrugged nonchalantly, then went back to smiling quite contentedly, “but what matters is that I got it done and showed that mutalisk the proper way to care for those hard to reach teeth. Out of sight shouldn’t mean out of mind, you know!”
“For the love of mercy, help us!” an SCV screamed, helplessly waving a metal manipulator back and forth, a zergling nomming viciously on the end of it.
“Just a minute!” Colgate called in a sing-song voice. She turned back to her helplessly pinned victim, though never would have thought of it that way herself.
“Pretty good, pretty good, but I think we’d both feel better for a bit of a wash, yes?”
The zergling tried to tear out her throat.
“I’m so happy to hear that. Just bear with me a moment.”
The mare made a strange, esoteric getsure, then thrust a hoof - the very same she’d pried the zergling’s mouth open with - to the skies.
For a second, there was nothing. Then, on high, a black spot. Then it grew, and went red with the flame of orbital entry.
Then it grew, and roared, and a capsule easily triple Colgate’s height slammed into the earth not two steps away, raining shattered rock over her and the zergling. It and every other squealed in terror and panic.
She didn’t even flinch, smiling with confident-istry satisfaction.
Drop armour plating fell away with a hiss of steam, revealing...a brush. But not just a brush. Oh no. It was the BRUSH.
It’s been said before. It warrants saying again. The caps are entirely justified. Stuffed with enough compartments to be its own field office and powered by an onboard fusion reactor, the BRUSH would be considered a concealed weapon in every known locale, if, ya know, it didn’t already surpass all specifications required for siege weapon status.
“Now just wait here,” she said kindly. Pressing a concealed button, a complicated process of extending panels and gyros unfolded the BRUSH into a strange monstrosity of moving parts, each of which molded itself to fit around the happy mare.
The head of the brush folded down over her own head, creating an airtight mask that sealed with a hiss. The bristles folded back and stood up, creating a kind of legionnaires’ hat.
“Power levels nominal. All systems reading green. Mouth wash tanks pressurized. Alright then, let’s do this!” Machinery growled as the power armored Colgate reared up slowly to her back hooves. Two huge canisters rested behind her shoulders, giving the appearance of pauldrons. From these, a cable ran to their respective foreleg, each of which was equipped with a heavy gun of some kind.
The marine and SCV’s huddled together in the door of the command centre while the five other zerglings clawed at the pieces of metal they held up as a desperate wall. They wept tears of joy.
“A...a firebat? We’re saved!!”
“Firebat? No...Aqua Fresh!” With a broad swing of her torso, Colgate brought the BRUSH armor around. A jet of pressurized minty freshness pounded into that first stunned zergling’s mouth with the force of the most pleasant tidal wave imaginable.
The next zergling bit down on the nearest part of the BRUSH. This happened to be the primed nozzle of her other mouth wash hose cannon.
You done goofed, little zergling.
You done goofed.
Needless to say, four remained. Every neuron in their tiny little brains screamed attack!! It was, in fact, pretty much the only thing those neurons could scream.
Every neuron was wrong.
“Maximum pressure. Safety limiters disengaged.” The twinned canisters lit up with lines of esoteric technologies, beginning to whirr and spin alarmingly fast. Colgate slammed her forehooves together, the machinery encasing each knitted itself into one, mightiest nozzle.
If Colgate shouted anything when she fired the mouth wash hose mega-cannon, it was lost for the momentous roar of surging mouth wash. It tore up loose stones and earth like a tempest through castles of sand.
Swift and nimble as they were - all the more so for their spurs of panic - the zerglings fell one by one to the relentless torrent, bowled backwards metres and metres more by the brunt force of impact.
Then it was over, and the land was sopping wet. What had come as ravening destroyers left as meek, skittish little creatures. Ones with absurdly clean teeth.
The armor peeled away, folding back into the BRUSH, which Colgate hoisted over her shoulder, just outright ignoring the fact that it weighed several tonnes.
“My work here is done,” she said cheerfully, walking off into sunset of the barren wastes.
The SCV’s looked to each other, then to the marine.
He stood a long moment, doing and saying nothing.
“Minty freshness will haunt my nightmares.”