Mane Effect

by Quillery

Chapter 13: Living the Nightlife

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that I’m not a nightlife kind of pony. Life back on Earth had its abundance of nightclubs and similar venues, even in the kind of places I lived in. The bright lights and loud sounds were hypnotizing to a beleaguered foal living in a hostile environment, only to harshly reveal its true intentions once you tread to closely.

It was obvious that gangs thrived in these environments. Before my forced ‘employment’, I avoided these places as much as I could, fighting the veil of safety the brightly colored structures emitted. The tools of my craft had it’s share of bright lights and sounds, and I could appreciate the aesthetic of neon lighting and loud, electronic noises, but always from a distance. I knew that if I got caught up in that kind of lifestyle, I would fall into the depravity I tried to stay away from and be lost to it.

Sigma encompassed everything that I avoided back then, but on a far larger scale. I'd only been here for a few hours, and everything I remembered from home pricked at my mind, filling me with a feeling of tainted nostalgia that I did not care for. I was a grown pony now, and I shouldn’t be afraid of, or even worried by places like this, but the kind of creatures that frequented it would always be a worrisome subject, and now I was here of my own volition, hunting the very things I had spent my foalhood avoiding.

Melody’s place was far nicer on the inside than it was on the outside. Even the service entrance was lit by calming blue neon lights, which was much easier on the eyes than the red coloring on every other club in the district. Of course, these strips of light were the only things lighting the way. Above us, the ceiling lamps had either short circuited, or been blown out by weapon fire. The narrow halls of the club were scarred with blaster marks and explosion damage, making Melody’s story of her escape seem far worse than she led us to believe.

The remains of her employees were everywhere. The further into the club we went, the more fallen bouncers we came across. Their bodies were laid together in large groups at every door towards the exits, faithful to their duty until the end. If it weren’t for the devotion of her staff, Melody would have shared a similar fate.

We found ourselves in what looked like a storage room, with stacks of overturned boxes scattered everywhere. A pile of the crates were used to barricade the room, but the bodies were enough to tell me that it didn’t work for long. The others stepped around them carefully, South taking the time to examine the bodies. She turned one over with a shove of her leg, scowling at what she saw.

“Ugh,” she grunted. “These Blood Claws wern’t messing around.”

“Yeah,” Dexter agreed quietly. “They must’ve really wanted Melody out of here.”

My radio hummed in my ear. “Hey guys, you find anything yet?”

“No, Firestorm,” I replied. “Just bodies of Melody’s guards. How about you? See anything outside?”

There was a pause before she answered. “Not really. They have a Manticore watching the front with some Mutts. The street is pretty quiet just outside. Nopony from the other clubs seems to have noticed anything wrong.”

“Is there any way into the building from the roof?”

There was another pause. “Maybe. I’ll take a look.”

“Hey, Shepard,” Dexter said, waving me over.

I walked over to him and the hastily built barricade. He was pressed against the overturned boxes, his ear against the wall.

“Do you hear that?” he asked.

I listened carefully, drowning out the sound of South’s movement. It was faint, but I could barely hear the sound of muffled conversation.

“It’s coming from the other room. I have a feeling someone is still here.”

I examined the barricade critically. The door it surrounded hung open, detached from its paneling in the wall. I peeked around the corner, looking into a curving hallway that twisted around into another room. The voices were slightly clearer, as if they were definitely coming from the next room, but they were speaking quietly, too quiet to make anything out.

“We don’t want to just barge in there,” I cautioned. “We need a plan.”

“Ah could always flush ‘em out.” South grinned, bouncing one of her rainbow colored grenades in her hoof.

I shook my head at her. “And kill who we need to question. Maybe after we know exactly what the situation is in there, but not till then.”

She rolled her eyes and returned the explosive to her bags. “Well, sittin’ here ain't doin’ us any good.”

I climbed over the boxes, motioning silently to the others to keep quiet. We approached the corner quietly, listening for the voices to become understandable, but the murmuring only grew quieter as we moved along. We stopped at the edge of the wall, just as a loud crashing noise came from inside. I peeked carefully into the room to see what was going on.

There was a trio of Mutts standing in a large circular room. The middle of the room had a large island of counters and shelves, many of them glistening in the dull light. Rows of bottles and glasses lined the entire length of the bar. Many of them also lay scattered all over the counters and floor, broken and leaking their contents everywhere. Chairs and tables traced the edge of the room, the sleekly colored metals reflecting the bright colors of the dancing flood lamps.

The dogs didn’t seem all that interested in the damage, more focused on a large, cumbersome looking crate that they were huddled around. They were panting loudly and wiping sweat from their foreheads. The crate itself was a bland metal color, with no markings, or even an obvious way to open it.

“Oof! Dis thing is heavy!” one of them complained.

“Wonder wut’s inside.” One of them pawed at the crate, when the largest of the group swatted his arm away.

“Hands off!” he barked. “Boss sed not to mess with the boxes.”

The leader placed one of his massive paws on the box, eyeing his insubordinate angrily. “It’s probly jus’ stuff we’re takin’ from the dumb Unicorn,” he cackled. “S’not like shes gonna need it anymore!”

The other Mutts laughed with him, and went back to their efforts to lift the crate. I moved away from the corner and met back with the others. Neither of them looked very pleased at what they heard, and I joined them in sharing the sentiment.

“So, what should we do?” I said quietly. We don’t want to alert the entire building.”

“There’s only three of them. We should be able to deal with them before they call for help.”

“Where’s th’ door tuh th’ next room?” South asked. I looked back into the room briefly. On the far side of the room, past the Mutts was a wide passage leading into another hallway. Seeing no other way out, I moved back, giving South her answer.

“Hrmm,” she muttered. “Iffin’t that’s th’ only way out, Ah don’t see it bein’ too hard tuh keep ‘em from runnin’.”

“Unless they have radios of their own.” Dexter pointed out.

It was hard not to smile at the idea that suddenly entered my mind as Dexter pointed that little issue out. I brought out my omni-tool, bringing up a saved file that I had carried with me since Equestria Prime, just in case.

“That would be a problem,” I said amusedly. “If not for this little jamming signal I got from the Geld.”

Dexter looked at me warily. “Won’t that affect our radios too?”

I nodded. “Probably, but we can always just turn them off for a bit. I’m pretty sure I can limit it to a small radius around me, so it shouldn’t travel farther than this room.”

“Works fer me,” South said quickly.

“Alright...” Dexter said hesitantly. “Let’s just make it quick.”

“Ok.” I nodded. “Let me warn Firestorm first. Firestorm?”

“Yeah,” she replied quietly.

“We’re turning off our radios for a few minutes, so don’t be surprised over a bit of radio silence.”

“Can I ask why?” she questioned.

“I’m going to try and cut off the Blood Claws radios with a jamming signal.”

She was silent for a while. “Okay...” she replied apprehensively. “But if I don’t hear from you in five minutes, I’m coming in.”

“Ok, five minutes.” I confirmed. “I’ll message back as soon as possible.”

We switched off our radios, and crept up to the corner, preparing to jump into the room. A quick glance into the room a third time showed the dogs creeping closer to our hiding place. This was as good a time as any. I activated the program, and was met with immediate results. The crate crashed to the ground with a loud Thud, as the Mutts howled in pain at the ringing in their ears. Two of them clutched at their heads, the other preferring instead to nurse his swelling foot after the crate landed on it.

We charged into the room at our moment of opportunity. South quickly outpaced me and Dexter, and chose to tackle the largest of the helpless Mutts to the ground. It was hard to tell whether or not he knew what was happening, but I didn’t see him try to fight back at all. It didn’t take much effort for the prairie mare to pin the dog to the ground, aiming her rifle at his head for good measure.

Dexter chose his target next, going for one hobbling around on a single paw. The whimpering hound bounced around, conflicted between clutching his throbbing foot, or his ringing ears. Dexter lifted his rifle into the air with his magic, and sent it at the Mutt, sweeping him off his remaining leg. Dexter’s tactic was efficient, but what came after was just added bonus, as his trip sent the Mutt toppling over into the large crate. His head made a sickening CRACK as it crashed into the corner of the box, and the dog slumped over onto the ground.

That, of course, left me with the remaining goon. This one seemed to have a better grasp at what was going on, as he ripped the offending device from his ear and cast it to the ground. Fighting the effects of my sabotage, he weakly grabbed at his holstered weapon, but not nearly fast enough. I was already on top of him, and I knew that while these things were fast, I knew they weren’t particularly resilient, especially to a few thousands volts. Before he could lift his gun, my hoof collided with his head, and my omni-tool sending a very unhealthy amount of electricity through his skull.

His body went rigid, and I watched his eyes roll back into his head as he toppled over. I couldn’t help but feel the rush of adrenaline at taking him down, but it quickly wore off, revealing a throbbing pain in my limb. My hoof was killing me, and felt incredibly hot. My strategy, effective as it was, definitely had its drawbacks. I nursed my aching leg as I limped over to South and her captive.

He was still writhing around in pain from the jamming signal, and any attempts to remove his earpiece failed with South standing on his arms. My trick had played its part, and he had suffered enough, for now, so I turned off the jammer. It took awhile for the Mutt to regain his lucidity, but when he did, it didn’t long for him to realize what was going on. He struggled against the mare on top of him, as she quickly spun a length of rope around his arms and legs.

“Can y’all stop with the wigglin’?” she warned. “Ah ain’t got no reason tuh keep yew awake, seein’ as yur about as smart as a pile o’ rocks.”

“Grrr,” the Mutt growled, struggling against his bonds. “You ponies are far from home. Doesn’t matter what you do to me. Bosslady will skin you alive.”

“Who’s your bosslady?” I asked. “I’m interested to know who you Mutts bother listening to.”

“Hah, you’ll find her soon enough, ponies.”

“What exactly are you doing here?”

“Why should I tell you? I ain’t scared of you, or any pony.”

South ground her weapon hoof into his arms. He grunted in pain, but still kept his mouth shut. She then grabbed my arm, lifting my omni-tool above his head. “Ah c’n turn on the noise again, if yew want.”

He sneered at South, still resisting. I didn’t want to resort to South’s level of brutality, normally I would let her do her own thing without my involvement. Hopefully he would give in before South actually touched the button. I shuffled through the programs again, just to play along while hoping he would give in. He just kept glaring at us. South lifted her hoof slowly to the button, keeping a close eye on his reaction, until she was less than an inch from the prompt.

“Wait!”

His eyes shrunk to the size of pinpricks. His ragged ears bent back against his head, and his voice carried along a very canine whine with it as he gave me a pleading look.

“Well?” I said slowly, dangerously. “I’m waiting.”

“The boss! She’s here! In the main room!”

“Anything else? Surely you can give me more than that.” I looked at the ominous looking crate the dogs had been moving. “What’s in the box?”

“I don’t know!” he cried. “We’ve been moving them around all day, but the boss won’t say what’s in them!”

I trotted over to the flimsy looking container. I found a interface on its side, but any command that opened it was locked with a rather impressive lock. I brought up my hacking interface, intent of seeing what the Blood Claws had to hide.

“This lock is a bit more than I expected from you,” I noted. “Looks like the Blood Claws actually have some brains in their gang.”

“Watch who you mock, pony,” the Mutt growled. “You don’t need to be smart to have power.”

I gave him an incredulous look, turning my attention back to the crate. The lock encryption really was impressive. It reminded me of the code that Emmy used on Trawlis, but thankfully it was a lot less complicated than that. I managed to crack the lock quickly, and a metal panel slid open on the side.

“Whoa nelly.”

Souths comment was all I needed to determine exactly how serious the contents were. Inside the crate, stacked to the brim was several cases of high explosives, the silence of impending doom adding a heap of unnecessary tension to the situation.

I glared at the Mutt in Souths grasp. “Bombs?” I snapped. “Seriously? Your plan is blow the club up?”

“You think I make da plans, pony?” he snickered. “I jus’ do da lifting.”

I groaned, gesturing at South. “Shut him up please, South. I think his usefulness has run out.”

South grinned evilly as she lifted her leg and bashed the Mutt into unconsciousness. After she was done, she came over to me and examined the explosives herself. Hopefully she would know something, anything on how to deal with these.

“Any ideas, South?” I asked.

She reached a hoof into the crate slowly, tracing it along one of the bombs. “Well,” she said slowly. “Ah don’t often take bombs apart once Ah build ‘em. That’s Tink’s speciality more than mine.” She pointed at the receiver, and the tiny blinking light that accompanied it. “But if ya kin block this part here, yew can stop them from bein’ armed remotely

I scanned the bomb carefully with my tool. South’s suggestion had merit, the only thing to do was figure out how to jam the arming signal without accidentally detonating the bombs.

“Here, Shepard. Try this.”

South reached into the Mutt’s ear, took out his earpiece, and hoofed it to me. I examined the tiny disc, recoiling a bit in disgust at how unclean it was, glad that I was holding it through my armor. It was a crudely design item, just like the rest of their equipment, but it was just complex enough to serve my purpose.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “This can work, South. Great idea.”

I uploaded the jamming program into the memory of the small device, taking care to reduce its range so it wouldn't interfere with our radios.

“This shouldn’t mess with our radios. Let’s turn them back on, Firestorm’s gonna want to hear back from us.”

I turned on my radio, immediately calling out for Firestorm.”

“You guys sure love dramatic timing,” she groused. “Five minutes on the nose.”

“Sorry about that, the Mutts were more stubborn than we’d liked.”
She was silent for a bit. “Oh, ok, as long as you’re alright. Did you find anything?”

“Well, one of the Mutts said one of their leaders might be here, in the main room. We’ll be heading there now.”

“Alright, I’m still looking for a way in from the roof just in case, and—wait a sec. Somethings happening out here.”

“Firestorm? What is it?”

“A really big truck just pulled up in front of the club. Looks like they are loading crates into the building.”

I sighed. Great, more bombs. It seemed like the Blood Claws really wanted to make a show of removing this place from the map.

“Oh yeah, we’ve already found one of those crates in here. It looks like they are going to blow up the club.”

“Awesome. Like we need more to deal with.”

“I can stop them from arming them with some time, we just need to not give them a reason to set them off while we’re still here.”

“Ok. I’ll keep an eye on the truck, maybe count how many they are bringing in.”

“Good idea. Contact us if something changes.”

“Got it. Firestorm out.”

With Firestorm back in the loop, and these bombs dealt with, there wasn’t much left to do in this room. I went back to the crate, only to seal it shut again with the jammer inside. I also broke the lock for good measure, just to make sure nopony else could get inside. Dexter was still keeping an eye on the unconscious dogs, and South had trotted away to...raid the bar. I facehoofed as I watched her rummage around the shelves that still had intact bottles sitting on them.

“South, is now really the time to be doing that?”

“Ah wuz just lookin’,” she remarked. “Melody’s got some pretty fancy stuff here. Stuff ya can’t even find on Earth.”

“Well, just don’t take any of it,” I warned. “We’re here to help Melody, not rob her. Try explaining that to your sister.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she groused. “Let’s git goin’ then. Don’t wanna keep them Blood Claws waitin’.”

“Think the leader they have here is a Praetor?” Dexter wondered.

“It would be pretty excitin’ if it wuz.”

“I’d rather not fight a gang leader, South,” I cautioned. “I’ve been around enough of them to know that they’ll do anything to anypony who gets in their way.”

South raised an eyebrow, followed by a smug grin. “Ah’d like tuh seem ‘em try.”

My eyes fell to the exit. As far as I could tell, it was just another long corridor leading to the front of the club. There was no telling if there was going to be anything lying in wait for us, but since nothing was barging in on us in here, it was a safe bet that our presence was still unknown. Hopefully my signal jammer would continue working in keeping us incognito, because I was enjoying the lapse between gunfights.

“Well, lets get going then.”

We made our way towards the hallway, leaving the potential powder keg and the unconscious dogs behind. I hoped we weren’t going to be here long enough for any of that to be a problem. Sigma was already proving to be way more complicated of a trip than I had hoped, but really, none of this mission had proven easy so far. I could only imagine how much further Artemis was getting from us while we spent our time here. That thought alone was motivation enough to hurry this along. I picked up my pace, and I hoped the others would do the same. This day was hardly over yet.

“Be careful with that you idiots!”

We froze as the shrill voice carried through the air. We were almost to the end of the hall, and I could see the evidence of light in the next room. A chorus of grunting noises echoed around the corner, and loud crashing noises just like from earlier. They were moving more bombs, and it sounded like a lot more. We carefully moved to the edge of the wall, and peered into the room.

According the Tinker’s map, this had to be the main room. There was a huge emplacement in the middle of the room, that had enormous speakers and flashing lights of every color flooding the room. It seemed that the displays were on some kind of automatic setting, as they moved through the motions of their routines, even without the sound of music that was probably supposed to accompany them.

Between the speakers, I saw the stage where several instruments lay in a heap. Some of them looked rather modern, sleekly designed and brightly colored. One of them, however, stood out from the others in the pile. It was dully colored compared to the others, but it had a flair of modern improvements nonetheless. It was rigged with electronic devices to allow its sound to carry with any other instrument today, and even with my lack of interest in music, it was hard not to recognise a double bass when I saw one.

Despite the string instruments simple design, I could tell there was something special about it, and perhaps its owner. It just seemed to me the kind of instrument Melody would play, and it was shame to see it in its current state. Hopefully, I could recover it for her, if we kept the collateral damage to a minimum.

The continued noises broke my attention from the stage, and I began looking for its source. Several packs of Mutts were standing in the middle of the club’s main room, huddled around a series of crates they were moving into the room. They all had worried looks on their faces, as if they were afraid of something. A something that made itself loudly obvious.

“If you idiots drop one more of those, I’ll be tossing you from the truck on our way back!”

“Sorry, boss,” one of the Mutts apologised to the bodiless voice. “But dis stuff is really heavy.”

“And that’s exactly your job, isn’t it? You useless dogs do all the heavy lifting, while the rest of us do the important work. Like using our brains.”

“But the bat brains can lift stuff too.”

There was a moment of silence as all of the dogs nodded in unanimous agreement, when a sudden gunshot stuck very near to the speaking Mutt. The group of them yelped in surprise, backing away from the crates and whoever had fired at them. I heard precise clanking move across the floor, almost like heavy metal pins striking against rock.

Someone stepped into view, a gun in one of its claws which was pointed directly at the whimpering dogs. It was covered in white feathers, tinged with red at the tips along its beaked head. Its eyes were shadowed in a bright, bloody red, giving her eyes a look of frightening intensity. Her feline body was covered in black armor, save for her dark brown wings, and it was emblazoned with a familiar symbol etched in red along her backside. She stopped just in front of the crates, but kept her eyes squarely on the others.

“Oh no,” she scoffed. “The Mant’s are here to kill anything that try to get in our way, because that’s what they are good at. You idiots are lucky enough to carry boxes around. If it were up to me, you flea bitten mongrels would be left to rot in the dregs. The Claws have no need for whimpering dogs.”

The Gryphon lifted her gun, aiming it into the group. The Mutt she was shouting at fell to his knees, his paws in the air. “Please, mistress! Forgive me!” He sounded pathetic, his voice pleading.

The Gryphon had a twisted look in her eyes, as if she were actually considering killing one of her own. She smiled, even laughed at the quivering heap of what I used to think was a credible danger to us. If she was actually going to do it, however, I wouldn’t find out. I heard a faint beep emit from her armor, and she lowered her weapon begrudgingly. She pressed a claw to her ear to silence the noise.

“Yes?” she said, irritated.

Whoever she was talking to, it was someone even she was subservient to. It might have been one of the leaders, or at least someone who could lead us to one. WhIchever it was,I had to know for certain. I backed into the hallway, and accessed my omni-tool. It was no challenge to hack into communicators, especially those that belonged to a gang that’s claim to fame was sheer brutality. Their hacking protection was laughable, and I easily found myself listening in on their conversation within seconds.

“Did you get everything I sent?” A deep voice asked. It was a cold sounding voice, rumbling with the sound of gravel and stone.

“Yeah,” the Gryphon replied. “What is it, anyways? The Mutt’s say its heavy.”

“Just some parting gifts. I’ll deal with it once I get down there. Just keep anyone out, including that wench, Melody, if she tries anything.”

“Hah, I’d like to see her try. We killed all of her guards, and I’m pretty sure I put a few holes in her myself. I doubt she’ll try anything against us.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Banshee. She still has those damn junk haulers on the rim backing her.”

“Don’t worry, boss,” Banshee said reassuringly. “We’ll deal with those stupid Earth Ponies eventually. Now that this place is shut down, it’s only a matter of time.”

“Just don’t screw anything up. I’ll be there soon.”

The signal went dead, as the Gryphon lowered her claw and returned her attention to the cowering Mutts. “You idiots better hurry, the boss is on his way, and you don’t want to make him mad, now do you?”

“Great,” Dexter said flatly. “This one’s not even the leader we want. And more of them are coming. What should we do?”

“We could always shoot ‘em, an’ wait fer the others tuh show up,” South offered. “That Gryphon don’t look too tough.”

“I’m not willing to take that chance, South,” I cautioned. “Considering how frightened those Mutts are of her, I doubt she’s a pushover.”

“S’not like it takes much to scare them stupid dogs.”

I shook my head. “I’m not saying that isn’t a good point, but we can’t just run and gun everything we see, we need a plan.”

“Ok then, whut d’ya have in mind?”

Right now I had nothing, but so far in this journey I had proven that it didn’t take much to get a plan going. I glanced back into the room. Banshee was still pacing around the Mutts as they moved the bomb laden crates around, waving her gun around menacingly. I was surprised the Mutts didn’t use their numbers and revolt at the way she was treating them. Maybe she had something that even numbers couldn’t win against. Fighting her head on definitely became less desirable.

I brought out my omni-tool, scanning the room for anything that was broadcasting a signal. The radio the Gryphon had was something, maybe, if I wanted to try the same trick as earlier, but something told me a Gryphon named Banshee has little aversion to loud noises. I got no readings from the dogs, so as a distraction they were useless too. The only thing left in the room that was still working was the stereo equipment. I shrugged. That was better than nothing.

The seeds of madness planted, I hacked into the unprotected powergrid of the building, accessing the stage controls. The first thing I wanted to do was to turn off those irritating lights. The room dimmed suddenly, and I heard a chorus of confused chattering. I looked back into the room, viewing an amusing scene. With the lights gone, the Gryphon had become noticeably angry. Well, angrier than she had been.

“Who’s screwing with the lights!?” she shouted. The dogs, still holding the boxes, only managed to respond with a strained shrug. Banshee walked over to the stage, her head tilting in confusion at the non-functioning stage lights. I restrained a small chuckled at the scenario that had presented itself to me, and it was far too hard to pass up. With quick flick of my tool, I turned the lights back on.

Banshee shrieked in pain, clutching at her eyes at the wave of intense light that suddenly appeared. She hobbled away from the stage, nearly falling off of the edge. Even the Mutts cackled quietly at their leaders misfortune. When she regained her senses, she glared at them furiously, and they promptly shut up.

“The first one who laughs is getting perforated!” she barked. “And whoever is fucking with this junk is going in the gutters!”

South and Dexter were also having their own trouble stifling their laughter. One bit of sabotage done, I quickly moved on to another. The music systems were also on the same network, and I searched through its database for a song with the the most obnoxious name possible, hoping its music would reflect its namesake. None of them seemed all that interesting though, so I just went ahead and picked one at random, cranking the volume as loud as possible.

The blaring music thundered from the giant speakers, and even I jumped at its intensity. The Mutts did not approve, letting the crates fall to the ground to cover their ears. The Gryphons reaction was the funniest though. Her entire body, plumage and all had gone completely rigid, puffing up around her head. She clamped her claws around her head, all the while thrashing at the nearby equipment. She looked like she was shouting something, but I couldn’t hear over the music.

The others broke out laughing at the chaos I was causing in the next room. I never would have guess it was fun to fight a group of armed thugs without actually firing a weapon. My omni-tool was proving to be far more valuable than any pistol. Watching the agitated Banshee swipe and slash at the stereo's was no end of entertainment, until her razor sharp claws cut through a large cluster of cables. The music suddenly popped and crackled with loud, violent static, before going quiet. It wouldn’t have been much of a problem, if South wasn’t still laughing.

I ducked back into the hall before the Gryphon looked our way. I watched South clamp her hooves over her mouth the instant she realised her mistake, but I feared it was too late. We remained still in stark silence, hoping that no one in there had heard us.

“Who’s there?”

Damnit. I glared at South, who upon the expectation that we would soon be discovered, quickly brought her gun to bare. It was only a matter of time now before the Gryphon or one of the Mutts came over here and discovered us, so now was the time to get ready. I looked at the others, hoping they had some ideas of their own. Dexter shrugged, his only move gripping his weapon in his magical glow. South did the same, her gun unfolding around her hoof. Her other hoof, though, reached into her bag, withdrawing one of her grenades, which she promptly hoofed over to me.

“It’s as much a plan as any,” she whispered. “Better we scatter ‘em now, b’fore they box us in here.”

I focused my senses back to the room. It was still quiet, but there was a noticeable shuffling of feet.

“You two, check out that noise!” Banshee shouted.

A pair of footsteps started nearing the hallway, and towards us and our hiding place. I looked at the grenade in my hooves, and found myself actually considering using it, until I remember why we were here in the place. Destroying Melody’s club was the Blood Claws plan, not ours. The place was already a wreck, but making it any worse than it already was was not something I wanted. If we did, II would probably near no end of it from her,or Tinker in the aftermath of it all. I resigned that plan to something along last resorts, and returned the grenade to South, shaking my head.

“And wreck the place we’re intending to retake in the process,” I whispered back sternly. “There has to be a better way.”

“There might,” Dexter offered, reaching for his ear. “Firestorm, we need some help.”

“Are you guys ok?” Firestorms voice replied. I noted a tone of worry, but Dexter was quick to dissuade it.

“We’re ok for now, but we’re a bit outnumbered in here and could use a distraction.”

I heard footsteps approaching closer to the hallway, giving us maybe fifteen seconds before they found us.
“How big of a distraction?” I heard a great deal of concern in Firestorms voice, tempered by a faint sense of intrigue.

“The bigger the better. We need a good enough reason to clear some of these Mutts out so we can ’talk’ with their leader.”

“Got it. One big distraction, coming up.”

I listened to each step from beyond the corner. It was quietly accompanied by the sound of a sniffing nose. Eventually they would sniff us out, but that was only second in my list of things to be worried about at the moment. My mind was more focused on what exactly Firestorm had available for a distraction so quickly, and how big it would have to be to draw enough of these hounds away.

“Well, you idiots?” Banshee barked. “Did you find anything?”

The investigating Mutts didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I heard them stop, only a few feet from the corner, sniffing loudly. Suddenly, there was a low growling noise, and then another, quietly rising in tempo. I pressed myself against the cold steel wall, if only to steady myself from shaking in fear at our impending discovery.

“Smells like pon—”

BOOOOOOM!!!

The explosion roared through the building, rumbling the hard metal beneath me. Fixtures and light objects rattled and tumbled in a clatter in the next room as tables and glass crashed to the ground at the quaking structure. I found myself suddenly peering round the corner, watching the two dogs who had nearly found us fleeing back into the main room. The rest of them were in a panic, scattering the crates and crashing into each other in the chaos.

“Was that big enough?” Firestorm chimed in our ears.

“What the hell did you do?” I hissed.

“The Blood Claws shouldn’t pack so many explosives in one crate. That truck won’t be going anywhere anytime soon,” she said sarcastically.

“Does it look like any of them saw you?”

“Nah. I got one of the Manticores, and the other one is looking around on the ground. Good thing those wings are just for show. Did it help any?”

Banshee leapt into the center of the room and swung a claw into a group of the swarming Mutts.

“Will you get it together?” she screamed. She pointed another claw at one of the marginally calmer groups.
“You lot, get outside and see what the hell is going on. The rest of you, get back to moving those boxes!”

It was nearly a stampede of fur and claw as nearly half the Mutts vacated the room towards the exit in a hurried panic. Those that remained quickly went back to their previous task under the threatening glare of their leader. Banshee moved about the room, her eyes following the crates as they were carefully repositioned by her underlings, eventually stopping near the center. She stood with her back turned towards us, towering over her cronies like an overseer.

I ducked back around the corner, pressing my hoof back to my ear. “You got a couple dozen Mutts heading outside, Firestorm. We should be able to deal with the ones left in here.”

“Alright. I could use some target practice. I’ll keep them busy out here while you guys get the info we need. Just ring me if you need anything else.”

“Alright.” My radio went silent again, and I turned back to Dexter and South. “Let’s get this over with. The sooner we get that Gryphon talking the sooner we can get out of here.”

They both gave me an affirming nod, standing up to prepare our charge into the room. I also took the time to ready my omni-tool and any of its combat useable functions just in case. I took a deep breath to calm my mind in preparation for combat. Sure, I was getting used to fighting. Hell, I was actually starting to show improvement, even as a trained support role. Maybe the others were starting to rub off on me, and I was actually learning how to be a proper soldier. Whatever it was, I was glad that I could, in time, hold my own in battle.

My confidence bolstered, I swung my omni-tool in front of me. It glowed with an incandescent light as it began to charge its systems. Hopefully it would be enough to deal with that Gryphon and what was left of her pack. I stepped away from the wall, and poked my head around the corner one last time to survey a plan of attack—

And was face to face with an angry looking Gryphon.

She smiled sinisterly at me, her eyes prickling with intense heat. “I thought I heard ponies clopping around in here,” she sneered.

I was too shocked at her sudden appearance at the corner to react as she seized me by the throat. She pumped her wings and leapt back into the center of the room, with me in tow. I tried to get a glimpse of where she stopped, but my head was propped upwards by her tightening grasp, and she was slowly squeezing harder around my throat.

“I wonder what kind of sound ponies make when their heads go pop.”

Her grip strengthening, I found it increasingly harder to breath. I wheezed out a few desperate breaths, before something crashed into Banshee’s head. She screamed in fury as I watched the floating rifle bashed her head, eventually dropping me from her grasp to deal with the floating weapon. I fell rather far, finding out the hard way that she had me suspended over the edge of the stage before she let me go. I landed on the hard metal floor below, meeting eyes with the pack of Mutts that remained.

We stared at each other in quiet awe. The last few moments had passed in a hazy blur, and even I was having a hard time keeping up with the pace of things. Banshee thrashed above me at the floating assault rifle, the dogs were eyeing me hungrily, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

Something clattered to the ground near my head, and I saw Dexter’s gun crash to the ground. I looked back up at the fuming Gryphon, who glared in the direction of my friends. South had her gun trained on Banshee, and was slowly advancing into the room, her eyes darting between the raging Gryphon and the pack of bewildered dogs.

Dexter refocused his magic, picking up his discarded weapon from the ground and returning it to his side. He spun it around, examining it quickly, before copying Souths stance and entered the room at his own pace. Banshee was breathing furiously, her anger seeping from her in sharp, seething breaths.

“Get them!” She bellowed, reaching for her sidearm and aiming it at my friends.

Gunfire rang out from both sides of the room, flying over my head in a curtain of metal and slag. I remained low to the ground and scrambled across the floor towards my friends, or cover, whichever I ran into first. I ended up finding the latter first, diving behind some stereo equipment that looked like it had been set aside. Now that I had something to protect my flank from getting shot off, I leaned out and added a few shots to the fray for good measure.

Banshee had vanished from the stage, and was now near the back of the room behind her underlings who were firing at us with their crude scatter guns. Dexter and South were still standing in the middle of the hallway, and were actually advancing towards the lot of them. I wondered why they weren’t in cover, until I noticed a faint blue aura shimmering in the air. Dexters face was set in great concentration, while South had her weapon aimed straight at the Mutts and their feathery leader.

Each time a shot from the Mutts of Banshee struck the barrier, it began to ripple and waver, absorbing the force of the heated rounds. The projectiles dropped harmlessly to the ground after being robbed of their velocity from Dexters shield, while Souths shots passed through unhindered.

The soldier and magitech duo continued their advance, mowing down droves of the Mutts that stood in their way. I doubted any of my shots hit anything, but in light of the efficiency of my friends, I doubted it mattered. Banshee had an impressive shield of Mutts to hide behind as she fired her weapons at us relentlessly, but her reduced forces were beginning to take its toll. It wasn’t long before a notable swathe had been cut through her forces as Dexter and South approached the higher ground of the stage.

Banshee roared, slashing angrily at her goons. “Can’t you useless lot take on two measly ponies!?” she screamed. “Do I have to do everything!?”

She tossed her pistol aside, snatching the nearest scattergun from one of her Mutts. She charged towards Dexter and South firing the shotgun wildly. As she got closer, the weapon’s effectiveness against Dexter’s barrier rose sharply, to which it began to stutter and fading rapidly at the increased strain, but he held on. With each shot against his shield, he poured more magic into it, until the furious Gryphon was directly in front of it.

South wasted no time in firing a few times at the maddened predator, but the Gryphon did not slow down. She stopped in front of the barrier, ignoring any of South’s attempts to stop her. Banshee held her gun high, aiming it an inch from Dexter’s shield. She pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Her face twisted into a scowl, as she tried over and over to fire her weapon, only returning a series of clicks. I could see the air around the weapon bend and warp as blistering heat poured from the weapon. Knowing that her weapon was useless, Banshee instead bashed the weapon against the glowing blue force field in front of her.

I heard South chuckling at the Gryphon’s feeble attempts to break her way through their protection. “Is that all yew got, bird brain?”

Banshee’s eye’s twitched in anger, before her mouth bent into a twisted, frightening grin. “So, your fancy magic doesn’t block sound. Heh.”

What did that matter? I had a hard time thinking of anything that this Gryphon could do that didn’t involve bullets, especially without getting through the shield. Dexter seemed to share the sentiment of confusion as his eyes furrowed in worry. South aimed her weapon point blank at the Gryphon to end her incessant prattling, but before she had a chance, Banshee took a step back from the shield began taking in a deep breath. Her chest began to bulge with the massive intake of air, drawing in more and more in a single, enormous breath.

When she finished, I noticed a tinge of dark color surround her. Much like Dexter’s magic, a crimson glow began to surround the Blood Claw warrior, pulsing and coalescing in the air all around us. She set her legs firmly against the ground, as the magic reached the peak of its luminescence. The coils of red swirled in front of her, collecting in front of her sharpened beak. Dexter’s worry quickly switched to panic as his eyes widened considerably at the display of magic the Gryphon was performing.

“Get down!” he shouted, ducking to the ground and redoubling his efforts into his shield. South tilted her head in confusion at Dexters warning, clearly not understanding what was going on at all. I was having a hard time figuring it out either, but knowing Dexter, he knew a dangerous magic user when he saw one, and I promptly ducked back behind my cover.

Banshee released her breath, and the orb of blood red magic in front of her exploded, sending out a massive shockwave from its depths. Red coils echoed from the explosion, carrying a ear splitting scream through the air. I could feel my skull vibrating at the intensity of the wailing shout. The neon lights shattered into dust all around me, and the metal floors began to vibrate at a painful frequency, even through my armor.

I stumbled out of my cover. My sight was beginning to blur, as if my senses were beginning to melt together. Dexter and South were on the ground, their fore legs pinned to their ears, their rear legs kicking. Their mouths were open, but I could not hear the screams of pain they had to have been yelling. If I felt the way I did being to the side of her outburst, I could only imagine how painful it had to be being in the middle of it.

I swayed on my hooves, trying desperately to keep my balance as my head swam in agony. I lifted my omni-tool, pointing at the screaming Banshee. I fumbled with the device, unable to see clearly enough to read the commands, or even find anything from memory. My friends were in danger, and I was being beyond useless, so I resorted to something I really never wanted to do, and started mashing buttons at random.

I saw a few lights blink on my hoof in a haze, but I wasn’t sure what, if anything, I was accomplishing. I squinted my eyes, clearing only a portion of my vision. It was barely enough to see what I was doing, but I managed to hack into something electronic that was very close to that damn Gryphon. Not content with and half measures, I conceded to surge the damn thing into oblivion in the hopes that it would break her concentration.

A crackling bang filled the air as Banshee’s shrill voice petered out into a painful shriek. My vision cleared enough that I saw her clutching her head, glaring at me, as a few sparks danced around her claw. Blood was dripping from the side of her head, in rather large quantities as she hobbled away. Whatever Mutts that were still alive at this point were nullified by her sonic scream, lying unconscious, or worse, on the ground.

“You’re gonna pay for that, pony.” She growled.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to do anything right now,” I shot back, still pointing my omni-tool at her.

“There’s a lot more of us outside. It’s only a matter of time until they come back. You’ve got nowhere to run.”

I smirked. “That would be a problem, if we were planning on running. Right now, we’re exactly where we want to be.”

She looked confused at what I was saying. Her eyes darted to my friends, who were slowly recovering from her sonic scream. They groaned quietly as they shakily got to their hooves, and they were breathing heavily. Banshee’s face was full of intrigue as she stared at them, before looking back to me, her eyes wide in shock.

“Your armor...” she said slowly, understanding slowly building in her voice. “It’s military grade. You’re Earth Pony soldiers!”

I nodded, her shock growing as I did. “What the hell are you doing on our turf, Stable? The Blood Claws have no fight with you!”

“We need information on some of your mercenaries, and who’s been hiring you.”

“Hah!” she snapped. “Like I’d give you our contracts. You’d just round them all up and cut off our income. I’d sooner die than betray the clan!”

“Ah c’n oblige ya on that...”

South had gotten back to her hooves, and managed to shakily lift her gun. She was aiming directly at Banshee, who was still standing on the stage only a few feet away. Everything went still as time seemed to slow down. Gryphon and Pony were locked in a death glare. Souths hoof quivered as she struggled to hold it upright. Banshee’s body swayed and bobbed, her breaths low and raspy, still clutching the side of her head with a claw to stymie the flow of blood.

The stampeding sounds of feet trundled into the room, as a fresh pack of Mutts burst into the room. The Gryphon leapt back with a pump of her wings, diving towards her reinforcements. She wobbled on her legs as she landed, earning a worried response from one of the dogs.

“Bozz, whut’s—”

His eyes, as well as those of the other Mutts slowly took in the scene, eventually noticing the presence of me and the others. They were quick to bring out their guns, or hunch over menacingly. Banshee grabbed the nearest hound by the neck and lifted him so they were eye to eye. “Give me your medi-gel!” she barked. “And your radio! The rest of you!” She pointed a talon at us. “Kill them!”

I ducked back into cover just before the storm of bullets flew in my direction. South grabbed the still dazed Dexter and dragged him beneath the lip of the stage wall and vanished from my sight.

“Whatever reason you’re here for the Claws,” Banshee continued. “The boss will deal with you once he gets here. I hope you enjoyed your trip to Sigma, ponies. It’s gonna be your last!”

I heard her muttering quietly all of a sudden over the gunshots, when I remembered her asking for a radio. I must have overloaded her earpiece earlier, and she urgently wanted to speak to someone. The signal from earlier was still loaded into my tool, and I quickly accessed the channel. Banshee was speaking in an irritated hiss, to who I assumed to be the same person as before.

“...going on, Banshee?” the voice growled. “There’s smoke coming from the street, and I’m getting reports of gunfire.”

“I don’t know!” Banshee responded. “These Earth Ponies showed up and started shooting up the place! And there was an explosion outside that I haven’t even looked at yet.”

“Earth Ponies? From the yards?”

“No, that’s the weird thing! They’re from Stable!”

“What?” The voice sounded very surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Their armor is military grade, and they have a trained Magitech with them. They want information on our contracts.”

“Why would they want that?”

“You tell me! This shit is falling apart everywhere.”

There was a sudden silence on the channel, only dulled by the ringing of shots bouncing over the room. I tried to find where South and Dexter had gotten to. I noticed that some of the Mutts were firing at a section on the other side of the room. I hoped that if it was them, they were doing alright. My ear twitched as the voice returned, his tone completely neutral.

“It seems that we are going to have to have a change of plans, Banshee.”

“What does that mean?” Banshee snapped.

“We’ll be moving on to plan B, just to ensure that Stable’s interference stops here.”

“What’s plan B?” Banshee sounded completely confused, and even a little bit worried.

“Plan B is just like plan A...”

A chorus of beeping sounded from the center of the room, and all eyes fell on the pile of crates that lay scattered in the room. The lids had popped open automatically, revealing the singing choir of explosives inside. Their lights blinked madly and the beeping quickly picked up in tempo as it went on.

“...only sooner.”

I caught sight of Banshee, just as her face paled in shock. Her eyes went wide, glued to the lit powder keg sitting in the middle of the room. She shook her head briskly as the brunt of reality came over her.

“Fall back!” she shouted. The Mutts did not need to be told twice as they immediately lowered their weapons and started charging to the exit. I charged towards the bombs, hoping that I had some time, maybe enough time to disarm them.

“Oh crap...” I muttered.

There were no timers, or anything aside from blinking lights to tell me how much time the bombs had before going off. I backed away from the crates, holding my omni-tool towards them. I scanned the devices for something, anything to stop them, or at least slow the invisible timers. Even if I could disarm one of them, there would be a dozens more. The sequence had started, and whoever had created these things knew how to make it unstoppable. My tool gave me nothing, save for a guess of how long we had. However it came to its conclusion, I could’ve cared less at this point; it was enough time to get out.

“South...”I called out weakly. “Dexter!”

“We’re here,” I heard the Lieutenant call out.

I spun around. The two of them were climbing out of their hiding place, and were walking calmly towards me. South was looking at me curiously, as her head twisted around searchingly.

“Whut’s that noise?”

“No time!” I shouted. We have to go. NOW!”

I ran to the exit, while my tool kept screaming its estimates at me.

Ten seconds...

I looked back, seeing South and Dexter following right on my tail. They shared a worried expression, but I hoped I didn’t need to spell it out for them.

Eight seconds...

I made it to the hallway that led to the outside, screeching around the corner. I shouted in my radio as I ran.

“Firestorm!”

Five seconds...

“What’s wrong, Shepard?” she asked nonchalantly. Time for facehoofing later, Shepard!

“Get off the roof!”

“Uh Shepard, I’m kind of being shot at right now.”

Three seconds...

“I don’t care! Just get off the roof! Now!”

One second...

I couldn’t remember if she uttered a reply, or just acknowledged my command silently. I rounded another corner, the sound of a trio of hooves echoing in my head. I could see the outside through a blown out door. A load roar of fire and brimstone erupted from the room behind us, and all of my senses melted into white...

Codex Entry Added: Gryphon

Engineer Skill Unlocked: Dampening