Chapter 14: The Wrench in the Machine
“Lefty loosey, righty tighty.”
Sometimes, I find it hard not to call myself easily motivated. Sure, when I was working on a project, I was active, driven even. It did not take long for me to become engaged in a task, no matter how trivial or grand it might be, so long as it was in someway related to my craft. Of course, my line of work is prone to long hours, endless nights, and whatever stimulants you can get your hooves on to keep trudging through until the job is done. Although I was one of the few that was self powered by motivation, and did not need any of those enhancements, I still appreciated the value of a good nights sleep afterwards. If anything, the promise of sleep was a good enough motivator to get me to finish early, rather than late.
Of course, this left the undeniable problem of getting up in the following morning. Military grade bedding was by far the worst I had ever experienced, and this was from somepony who lived in a metal box most of the time. It was probably my greatest weakness of all; getting out of bed. Whether it was waking up from a tiring nights work, or shaking what remained of your senses into order after getting tossed by an explosion, getting the will to get up and move was just not one of my strong points. Unless you’re being shot at, that’s always a good motivator.
My mind was in shambles. Whichever of my senses were still working only spun endlessly in my brain, making my body feel thoroughly wrung out. Those that weren’t, well...only served to make the former problem even worse. There was one part of my body that worked just fine, to my immediate chagrin, making me wish I was still sleeping back on the Normanedy.
Pain.
The one thing that got through the turbulence of my mind and it had to be the pain. I felt like the outer layer of a gyroscope that had been strained through a minefield and sucked through a black hole for good measure. Ugh. I winced at my even attempting to compare my current state with bad science similes. Maybe I was suffering from delirium too.
A sharp pressure lanced up my sides as I felt something heavy lifting off of me. A groan escaped my mouth as I gauged my new freedom of movement. My legs were still moving, although groggily, so walking was still a possibility in my future. I tried to lift my head, but my neck was in-between states of working and not. All that was left was getting my eyes to work through the haze of dizziness and confusion.
There was something in front of me, maybe. It was hard to tell through blurry vision, while also adjusting to a painfully loud ringing in my ears and the powerful smell of smoke. Bit by bit, my senses came back online. I saw a shape moving around in front of me, moving slowly in my direction. It was a dull reddish brown, with a spot of white. As far as I could tell, those colors seemed familiar, but at the moment, I was more concerned with the aftermath of that explosion.
The reality of the situation hit me like a freighter. The explosion! I had to find the others. I had to see if they were alright.I sprang to my hooves at the thought of anypony being injured, only foiled by another shock of pain racing through my body at trying to stand. I pulled myself forwards bit by bit, hoping to find my friends.
“South,” I groaned weakly. “Dexter, are you guys alright?”
No response. I just kept moving forward, calling out her name in the hopes that she was in a better state than I was. The ground rumbled underneath me, and the shape I drifted towards had also begun to move. Whatever it was stepped towards me, swaying in tune with the ringing that plagued my hearing. My head was being pummeled with dozens of ambient sound. Screaming, gunfire, and more explosions seemed to be echoing in my brain, all drowned out by the lingering shock of the Blood Claws’ bomb.
The blob of brown slowly started to blend into a solid shape. A very familiar shape. It didn’t seem that far away, and so I attempted to call out again.
“South? Is that you?”
A loud, rumbling laugh barked out in front of me, sending off explosions in my head with each, gravelly chortle.
“Nope.”
My eyes widened as a pang of panic shot through me at the harsh voice. I weakly retreated from the approaching blob, but it continued to close in on me far faster than I was moving away. My vision decided now was the opportune time to clear, revealing the approaching shape of a Manticore rapidly lumbering towards me. His dark brown armor was streaked with white stripes, stained by blood that may or may not have been his.
He towered above me, holding his massive paw above me head. I tried to scramble away, but I backed into something that cut off my escape. He flashed a sadistic grin through his fanged teeth as he slowly lifted his paw. It flexed menacingly, revealing his massive claws My mind raced for anything that would help me get away. I tried firing my gun, but it only whirred uselessly. I tried to activate my omni-tool, but nothing happened. My equipment useless, all I could do was to make myself as small a target as possible, and hopefully get out of the way.
A loud bang blasted from above, followed by a loud thud as the Manticore suddenly toppled over. His eyes rolled back in his head as his massive form crashed to the ground. I stared at the still form of the defeated beast, my heart racing. I was not enjoying being so close to death, and now it was becoming a staple of my day to day life. It was not a pleasant thing to think about, but with the evidence continuously surrounding me, it was hard to keep my mind from dwelling in it.
“Shepard!”
My mind jolted out of its tailspin at the yelling in my ear. I slowly lifted my hoof to my ear, forcibly slowing my panicked breathing before I could speak.
“F–firestorm...?” I breathed. “What’s–”
“No time!” she snapped. “You need to get out of the street! You’ve got Blood Claws all around you!”
“Where are the others?” I pressed, ignoring her worry.
“I don’t know,” she continued impatiently. “You’re the first one I’ve spotted.”
“Well, keep looking then.”
“Have you looked around, Shepard?” she added sardonically.
It was about then that I realised that I hadn’t. I finally felt clear-headed enough to see, and took a quick stock of my surroundings. I was pressed up against a large slab of metal of unknown origins, twisting into a lengthy heap of rubble along the road. The slag spun in several directions, enclosing me on almost all sides. There was a small opening in front of me, where the Manticore had approached me from, but it was a hazardous route at best. I heard voices all around me, and none of them seemed particularly happy.
“It’s a madhouse down there. I’m lucky to have gotten off the roof. Thanks for the warning by the way.”
“No problem. Where are you now?”
“Still above you. I flew a few buildings down just before the bomb went off.”
“How bad is it? I can’t really see from here.”
“It’s...pretty bad,” she said hesitantly. “I figured a building like that could withstand an explosion a bit better, but those bombs...”
I heard a huge crash from the other side of my hiding place. The familiar groan of metal toppled over, accompanied by a loud, tremulous rumble. The metal around me shifted and twisted, almost threatening to fall over on top of me, before everything went quiet again.
“...Melody’s not going to be too happy about this.”
I groaned quietly as I got up to my hooves, and slowly started towards the alcove. “We’ll have to worry about that later, as much as I hate to admit. We need to get out of this right now. Do you see any way for me to get out of here?”
“Well, it looks like the only way out of that rubble is the way you’re heading now. Be careful though, you’ve got Blood Claws all around you.”
“Awesome,” I said flatly.
“I need to move to a better spot to give you cover. I can’t really look for the others really very well here anyways, so you’re on your own for a bit.”
“That’s fine, just make it quick.”
Firestorm went silent, leaving me on my own in the desolation. I found my way out of the junk enclosure, trying to move as quietly as I could. I stopped often when I was surrounded by the gravelly voices of disgruntled Blood Claws, and ducked behind one of the abundant piles of wreckage. I still couldn't assess the full extent of the damage, but I appreciated the hiding places it provided. I did not want to get caught by the armed thugs on my own, while my equipment was still on the fritz, and while I was still injured without medi-gel.
As I continued through the wreckage, I began to notice some similarities of the destruction form South’s little rampage back on Trawlis. I certainly hoped she and Dexter were alright, wherever they were. I hadn’t heard anything from them yet, and if Firestorm hadn’t seen them from the roof yet–well– the chances were steadily dwindling.
I found my way out, emerging into an open section of street that had escaped the blast. There was no one around, at least not that I could see. The nearby clubs that had lit up the night with their brights lights and filled the air with loud music had gone quiet, their patrons long gone in the aftermath of the Blood Claw’s bomb. I hoped that no civilians got hurt, but considering the blast, that seemed unlikely.
I walked around the pile back to the other side of the street where Melody’s was. I still hadn’t gotten a good look of it overtop of this mess, but once I rounded the bend, I quickly regretted wanting to. Utterly obliterated. There was no other way to describe it. The supports, the foundation, everything. Not one part of the structure had escaped severe damage, and most of the building had been violently displaced from where it was once secured to random places all over the boulevard. My mind reeled at the kind of explosive power the Blood Claws had available to them to do something like this. I hadn’t wanted to believe Firestorm’s assessment of the damage, but now that I was staring it in the face, I wished I had sooner.
I’d never really failed at much in my life. Most of the accomplishments in my life were met with adulations and praise. Ever since I stepped hoof on the Normanedy though, things kept falling apart around me. Nimbus, the relics, Artemis, now this. Failures left and right, and I felt worse for each and every one. I stared at the remains of Melody’s club, the thing I promised to reclaim for her, now a burnt wreckage in the chaos of Sigma. How had I even survived the explosion? Or end up where I had?
Gunfire erupted a little ways down the street. I broke my gaze from Melody’s down the scarred road, catching glimpses of lights flickering in the distance. I hurried along towards the sounds, my hopes switching from melancholy to something far more desirable. My ear hummed static at me as a fiery voice shouted through the radio.
“Shepard! I’ve found the others!”
“Are they ok?” I asked, still running towards the source of the action.
“I think so. They look like they’re pinned down by some Manticores and a Gryphon.”
Anger shot through me at the mention of the word Gryphon. “Does the Gryphon have red eye shadow?”
“Uh...yeah. It doesn’t make her look much happier.”
“Maybe you can tell me about it back on the Normanedy.” I said hotly. “Can you guide me to the others? I can’t see anything with all this junk in the way.”
“Hang on, I see you. Just keep going straight, you should come up on them any second and– Damnit!”
I skidded to a stop just before a corner. There was a significant amount of gunfire coming from the other side, but I wasn’t sure where it was coming from, or if it was a friendly source.
“Firestorm, what’s wrong?”
“You guys got a bunch more Manticores coming in from all sides. You better find the others fast, Shepard. I’ll try and slow them down.”
Loud bangs echoed from the buildings above me as Firestorm began her assault on the incoming reinforcements. With her preoccupied, it left me on my own to deal with the problem at hoof. I peeked out into the open to get my bearings of the situation. The rounds bounced off the walls, some even coming close to my corner.
My eyes narrowed at the sight of Banshee, along with a few Manticores hiding behind low cover. The street appeared to have its share of benches and oddly enough, planters. As a decoration, I suppose they helped alleviate the dreariness of the rust colored buildings that encircled the outer edge of the city, and the looming skyscrapers that hung ominously over the inner city. Anypony, and maybe even some of the disgruntled races that called this place home might appreciate the little things to brighten their otherwise grim existence.
And these psychopaths were using them for cover.
Banshee and her heavy hitters were firing relentlessly at something hiding behind the wall I was pressed against. I knew that if I moved to get a better view of what it was, I’d be putting myself in the open, and wouldn’t be far from a hail of slag aimed in my direction. The only hope that I had was that if Banshee was shooting at it, it was a friend of mine.
I heard return fire, but I had no idea if both of my friends were shooting. Firestorm hadn’t specified if they were both ok, only that they were together. I brought up my omni-tool, seeing if my equipment had recovered.
“Dexter. South. Can you hear me?”
No response, only the continued blare of gunfire. I muttered to myself, contemplating my dwindling options. I wasn’t in the mood to get shot at to rejoin my friends, but I didn’t want to sit here and wait for a charging Manticore or pack of rabid Mutts to overrun me. I could hear the powerful rifle of Firestorm lessening that potential outcome, but the quiet rumble in the distance warned that there were far more coming.
My ear flicked at a noise in the chaos, a familiar voice, just barely distinguishable over the battle.
“South! What are you doing?!”
I peeked back into the fray, catching sight of something small and round flying across the space inbetween the two groups. The tiny object glinted in the dull lights of the district, reflecting the prismatic colors of the rainbow. I ducked back against the wall and covered my ears, knowing full well what was coming. It was nice to know that at least one source of explosions in my life could be seen from a mile away, and prepared for it accordingly.
The ground rumbled as a brilliant flash of rainbow light lit up the area brighter than it had probably been in years. I watched as more junk danced across the air past my cover, skidding and scraping across the metal ground. After I was satisfied that shrapnel wasn’t ripping across the boulevard anymore, I stepped out to survey the damage.
The cover that Banshee had been using was now a smoking pile of rubble, and she and her Manticores were nowhere to be seen. There was a lull in the gunfire, even from above, as my radio began flaring in my ear.
“Shepard! What happened?”
I chuckled, moving into the alley. “Just South being South, Firestorm. What do you see?”
“I see a rapid growth of smoking craters on Sigma, and a lot more reasons for this place to not like Corral involvement.”
“How much time do we have before those reinforcements are on top of us?”
“Well before that explosion, I would have said a few minutes. Now? I have no idea. The Mant’s and Mutts are scattering all over the place, and– Wait a sec. We got a Gryphon on the move.”
“Banshee survived that?!” I shouted. “Where is she going?”
“I intend to find out.”
“What are you talking abou–”
I looked up, and noticed a blue shape leap from the rooftops above. A pair of powerful white wings flared in the darkness, and spun down into a powerful dive. I’d seen Firestorm flying before, even joined her once, but there was something lethargic about watching a Pegasus fly, before I realised what she was doing.
“Firestorm!” I shouted sternly. “Don’t do anything stupid! We’ll be right behind you!”
“Don’t worry about it, Shepard. Who do you think I am, South?”
“Ah heard that.”
I looked down, seeing Dexter and South climbing out of their cover and walking towards me. Their armor was stained with dirt, and maybe some blood, but they were alive and walking. That was all I could ask for. South face was twisted in a frown after hearing Firestorms comment, and Dexter seemed to be equally annoyed.
“You guys ok?” I asked.
“Could’ve been worse.” Dexter replied flatly. “If it wasn’t for that shield I tossed up, me and South would have been dust.”
“Ah coulda done without the bouncin’ around like a pinball though,” she groused.
I gave Dexter a confused look.
He nodded. “Yeah. It was kind of a bubble, but you were too far ahead of me when the bomb went off. Me and South pretty much rode with it from the force and sailed through the wreckage.”
“I guess that’s why we ended up getting separated.”
“Uh, yeah, about that.” He added, chuckling weakly. “We may have run you over during the blast, which is why you landed in the middle of that scrap heap.”
“So where’s Firestorm headin’?”
I looked up to the sky, but Firestorm was long gone. “She went after Banshee. She high tailed it out of here after your grenade went off. How many of those things do you still have?”
She glanced in her saddlebag idly, then looked back at me. “Couple more, then Ah got tuh make more from whut Tink gave me.”
“Where do you think Banshee’s headed, Shepard?” Dexter asked.
“With any luck, back to her superiors. Which means we’re gonna need a ride.”
The three of us looked around, but there was only devastation. The truck the Blood Claws were using had been torn to pieces, the only thing recognisable was the smoking chassi of the undercarriage. If anything was a vehicle nearby, it had been buried or destroyed by the explosion. I brought up my omni-tool, confirming my worry; Firestorm was getting a powerful lead, and we had no way of following her.
“Ah don’t see anythin’ tuh follow her with.” South started down the street, towards a less damaged area.
“An’ hoofin’ it ain’t gunna do much fer time if she keeps goin’ without us.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Dexter and I followed her, keeping an eye out for something, anything that could get us in the air.
South stopped suddenly, looking into the sky. I saw her ear twitching, as her head turned left and right. She turned back and gave us a thoughtful look. “Do y’all hear that?”
I perked my ears up, straining my senses to figure out what was South was talking about. There was a low sound of rushing air, and rapidly getting louder. I turned around, spotting a bright light flying towards us between the low buildings. The roar of wind filled the desolate street as a dark blue aircar banked sideways in front of us, coasting to a reckless stop only feet from us. The car lowered to a level hover, as its doors popped open. We backed away from the mysterious vehicle, when a familiar golden face leaned back from the pilots seat.
“Git in,” she said icily.
“Tinker?!” South exclaimed angrily. “Whut the hell are yew doin’ here? Ah told yew tuh stay–”
“An’ Ah told yew,” Tinker snapped,” that y’all wouldn’t be able to take the Claws on. Not without mah help.”
Tinkers face was set in stony anger. South tipped over her own rising temper at her sister’s tone, only able to stare on at the golden filly piloting the aircar.
“So unless y’all got any other ideas, y’all can git yer flanks in this car so we c’n git’ goin’!”
Time was against us, so I at least understood the value of getting a move on. I climbed into Tinker’s car, with Dexter right behind me. I took the spot next to Tinker, if only to ensure a separation between the two warring sisters. South was still standing outside the ship once we got settled, prompting me to sigh loudly.
“South, get in. We’re wasting time here.”
She shot me a look that rivaled the one she had given her sister before begrudgingly climbing into the ship. Tinker wasted no time in lifting up into the air and speed up.
“Which way wuz was yer Pegasus friend headin’?”
I brought up my omni-tool again, looking for Firestorm’s signal. The blinking lights had gotten even further away that I thought possible. I’d known Firestorm was fast, but this was ridiculous. In only a few minutes, she had a considerable lead, but thankfully we knew where she was going.
“She’s heading north. I’ve got a lock on her, so we can follow her and the Gryphon.”
The engines began to hum loudly as the cab of the small vehicle shook violently. The ground below vanished in a hazy blur as we raced deeper into the city. Tinker gave me an ice cold glare, glancing idly at the flashing lights on my tool’s displays.
“Ah intend tuh catch them!”
The feeling of claustrophobia was hard to push away as the towering skyscrapers whizzed by in a blurry haze. Nostalgia rushed to the forefront of my mind, and not the happy kind, filling me with unease as well as other unhappy emotions at the recklessness of Tinker’s driving. While the trip to Melody’s was a hair raising adventure of its own, there was no sense of urgency then, no panic, no furor. Now, everything was different. The air of the tiny cabin was tense as I clung to my seat to keep from bouncing around, as Tinker raced our small aircar through the inner city of Sigma.
The others were quiet, more so than I expected in light of what had happened so far today. I looked back at them; Dexter was still, his eyes closed. I could barely hear his steady breathing over the sound of the engine. There was a faint glow around his head, his implants throbbing a gentle blue. There was no note of pain or anguish in his face. There was only calm, serenity, focus.
South was a different story. Her eyes were fixed to the seat in front of her, set in smoldering anger. I could almost see her attempting to bore through the chair with her anger alone, and set its occupant alight. The only thing that would stop her was that its occupant was driving, and harming her would be counter productive. Whatever South was thinking, I could tell that her happy family dynamic was way more complicated that I’d realised.
Watching the other vehicles whizz by was the most harrowing part of Tinkers driving. Her aircar weaved and banked in the flows of traffic, rocking me back and forth from the violent swaying. I couldn’t be sure how fast we were going, but with the sounds of the other cars zipping past almost instantly gave me a good estimate. I couldn’t bring myself to look away from where we were going, especially when Tinker started darting us in between opposite sides of the skyway and dodging oncoming traffic.
We came up to a large skyscraper that housed a large tunnel in the center of it to accommodate the flow of traffic. My eyes traced the tower as we approached, as I wondered what purpose a building like this served. When I looked down towards the tunnel, my eyes widened at the sight of blinking lights within. Once inside the depths of the building, I saw that the pathways split into two different directions. It seemed like a rather dangerous way to separate traffic, especially when there was a group of emergency vehicles hovering around the center of the skyway.
In the middle of the intersection, surrounded by large crane vehicles were two enormous cargo trucks twisted together. The trucks had swerved into the walls and blocked a considerable portion of the tunnel. The cranes were buzzing around the wedged vehicles, tugging at the trucks with magnetic clasps. Seeing the stalled traffic was interesting, considering the overall pace of the entire planet. I heard a lot of angry sounds coming from the droves of cars that echoed along the narrow walls.I groaned quietly to myself at this delay, at least until I noticed that we weren’t slowing down.
We were still cruising along at the same speed towards the obstruction. I finally broke my attention from the window at Tinker. Her face was set in anger, unfazed by he significantly narrowed path in front of us.
“Uh, Tinker?” I asked concernedly. “There’s a truck there.”
“Ah see it.” she said flatly.
We still didn’t slow down. Looking at the others, I saw that they had equally worried expressions. The we got closer, and I think we were actually going faster.
“Tinker!” I shouted. “Truck!”
“Ah see it!”
We dropped several feet, flying underneath the stalled traffic. Their angry beeping blurred into incoherence as we shot passed them. Tinker shifted the vehicle slowly as we got closer. From down here, I could see that what she was planning. On the bottom of the tunnel, there was a small opening between the two jackknifed trucks. As much as I hated to admit it, there did look like there was enough room for us to fit, but I wasn’t any mood to test it.
I clamped my hooves on the dash of the car, and shut my eyes tight. I felt my teeth grinding together as I tried desperately to distance myself from my own senses. My brain was on autopilot, bringing up unpleasant facts of small vehicle stability, velocity and force, and a whole bunch of other unhelpful things that made me wish I wasn’t so damned smart. One clipped edge at this speed spelled disaster.
“Tinker!” South shouted. “Whut the hell are yew tryin’ tuh—”
She was cut off by a sudden silence. Even under my closed eyes, I saw a change of light that lasted a second. The ship shrugged sharply, rocking to the side, but kept going. I slowly opened my eyes, peering out. We were still alive, still moving. I relaxed slightly, opening my eyes all the way. We exited the tunnel, into a much different city sector. The air was far emptier than the city center, but we were still flanked by towering buildings on all sides. We still had a long way to go.
Tinker’s expression remained constant throughout her break-neck driving. Her placid state of fervor was mystifying, really. I had just met her, but the image I had painted in my mind of the kind and curious mechanic was swiftly being replaced by...something else, something worse, something I expected only from South. That little display of reckless driving was not something I wanted to go through again, but at least we survived, and were still on course, for now.
While I stared at her, in light of the lessening panic, I noticed she was no longer wearing her mechanic’s outfit. I had dismissed it at first in the dim light of the cabin, but now it was hard to miss the full body armor. It wasn’t Stable quality, but it was well made nonetheless.
“Tinker, where did you get that armor?”
“Ah made it.” Her tone was neutral, bored even.
“An’ why in tarnation d’ya have such a thing lyin’ around, Tink?” South inquired acidly.
“Whut other reason is there? Ah may not be a big military pony like all’o y’all, but Ah ain’t one tuh back down from a fight.”
South tone dipped even deeper. “Even it its a fight that kin git yerself killed? Whut do ya think th’ family would say, of you pickin’ fights like this?”
Tinker swerved the vehicle wide, breaking from the flow of traffic and bringing the aircar to a sudden halt in the sky. She spun around at South, her breaths bordering on seething. Her face was pained, tears were welling up in her eyes as she tried to maintain the angry glare trained on her sister, who just stared back, unfazed. Dexter looked my way, his face full of concern. I shrugged, having no idea on how to diffuse the quarreling sisters.
“An’ whut would they say if I backed off when mah friends needed me? Tuh jus’ run with mah tail tween mah legs and let them git beat on?”
Tinker wiped the beads of sadness from her eyes, not giving them a chance to fall before continuing. “Ah know Ah lied tuh y’all, but this ain’t something Ah c’n sit idly by an’ watch y’all git killed. That ain’t the Belle way.”
South’s glare narrowed on her little sister while she watched her fight back the last of her tears. Her gaze wandered over to me, but all I could do was to return an empty expression. It wasn’t my place to tread on family territory, and as much as I didn’t want an untrained civilian in the battlefield, I wasn't about to kick our only ride to the curb. Tinker’s knowledge of the planet was invaluable in a place like this, and she looked like she was well equipped to deal with whatever would come our way; but would it be enough?
“Tinker,” I began, “I’m sorry about Melody’s.”
“Don’t,” she replied curtly, holding up a hoof to me. “Ah knew somethin’ bad wuz gonna happen. Even this. Ah jus’ wish Ah coulda done more fer her. Ah might not’ve been able tuh save her place, but I’ll be damned to the pits of Tartarus if Ah don’t step up ‘n help now, whether y’all like it or not!”
“Tinker—” South growled.
Tinker rounded on her sister. “Especially you, South! Ah ain’t a baby. Ah’m still the third oldest, an’ Ah’ve been round this sorta thing all th’ time since Ah left home. Ya don’t gots’tuh worry ‘bout me.”
As much as I hoped this conversation would lead to a breakthrough at some point, I didn’t feel it had to take place at several thousand feet off the ground. Or when one of our friends was charging headlong into gang territory without backup. I glanced at my map again. Firestorm still had a considerable lead on us, and us sitting here was only making it larger.
“Look, we don’t have time for this. If you want, we can schedule a family sit down after all of this is over to get those issues out of the way, but right now we need to get after Firestorm before she gets herself killed.”
South turned her smoldering gaze on me. “But Shepard, ya can’t actually mean tuh–”
I raised my hoof to silence her. “I can, and I will. We have wasted too much time on this planet, and I plan to get off of it with us alive. We don’t have the time to drop Tinker off anywhere, not that I would in this place anyways. I highly doubt this or any neighborhood on Sigma would take kindly to an Earth Pony dressed in full armor. So as long as we don’t leave her alone, she’ll be safe. If you really care about her safety, South, then she’ll stay with you.”
“But why would we keep her with us when she don’t even got a gun?”
“Ah don’t need one,” Tinker added with a smile. “Look in the back.”
She waved a hoof towards the rear of the aircar, and South turned in her seat rummage through the supplies. She pulled out a set of plated saddlebags, hanging it in front of us to see. Tinker reached for bag and popped them open, to reveal a mechanics tool kit on one side, and Det-Charges in the other.
“Ah ain’t found a gun yet that can graze these bags, so this’ll keep me from gettin’ shot up too bad.”
“And the explosives?” I inquired.
She pointed at the skyscrapers outside. “The Claws ain’t the kind tuh set up shop in a big building like these. They like industrial buildin’s better, which is where yer friend is leadin’ us t’wards. A couple o’ these babies in the right places would make a pretty nice hole. Depends on whut kind o’ buildin’ though.”
Now I had two mares–no, two sisters– with explosive tendencies to deal with. As experienced as the two were in blowing things up, I had a feeling that I would be nursing many more headaches and ringing ears in the near future.
“We’ll keep that as a possibility, but for now, lets just get back on track. We still need to find this place first.”
Tinker nodded and turned back to the controls, and our aircar lurched forward. Now that we were on the move again, I decided to check on Firestorm again. The indicator of her location had been moving ahead of us at a amazing speed, but as I looked for her signal a third time, I saw that it had stopped. It was still a fair distance away, maybe a few more minutes of travel by Tinkers driving, but Firestorm had finally stopped.
“Ah don’t the look of that.”
Tinker was looking at the map as well, but her face was not amused.
I raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”
“Ah ain’t never seen where the Praetors hang out, but Ah’ve always guessed it’d be ‘round there.”
I felt us speed up, even faster that I expected from Tinker. She focused all her attention on the controls, weaving in and out around the flocks of other vehicles that buzzed all around us.
“That’s th’ foundry district. The Claws have stake in all of it. Iffin’ they know y’all are here, they’d be pretty quick tuh shoot on sight if they saw a Pegasus wanderin’ around.”
I knew Firestorm could handle herself but the thought her alone in a very hostile territory was not a pleasant one. We had been shot at, screamed at, and tried to be blown up. Firestorm was smart. While I wasn’t enthusiastic about her leaving on her own on this planet, if she hadn’t, we might have lost all our leads to finding what we needed from the Blood Claws. I didn’t expect her to get into a gunfight unless it was necessary, and she knew how to stay invisible. None of that stopped from from worrying though.
“Does this thing go any faster?”
As much as Sigma reminded me of the less glamorous parts of my foalhood, the sleek, refined structures of a heavy industry sector was something an engineer like myself could appreciate. The air above Sigma’s so-called industrial sector was empty. It had been less than a minute ago that we were surrounded by an armada of flying cars, trucks and other things that, if not for Tinker’s driving experience, would have ended our trip rather quickly. The golden mare was quick to lower our altitude in the vacant sky, bringing us level with the structures that spread out in every direction. I lost count of how many buildings were spewing generous amounts of smoke and fumes into the atmosphere, which we would probably be breathing it in if we weren’t so close to the ground.
All eyes were out the windows, scanning the dark compounds for signs of life. Our tiny vessel weaved around the buildings, the quiet hum of the engines vibrating off the narrow walls. Hopefully we could get through without being seen. Tinker’s ship was fast, but without weapons and having already sustained damage earlier today, an air assault would end quicker than intended.
I was focused on finding Firestorm. I had not heard from her since she left us back in the club district. Now that we had slowed down into a much quieter area, it was easier to keep an eye out, but it was also easier to get noticed ourselves. I had kept a close eye on my omni-tool and her signal. It had finally stopped, and was very close. I searched the nearby buildings for anywhere that Firestorm might had hidden to wait for us.
Tinker grunted as she suddenly swerved the car to a stop. Her eyes were fixed on a large facility only a block away. At a glance, it looked like a refinery of some kind, but it was surrounded by massive walls that made the ones back at Speccy’s seem like fences. Above those were hovering ships much larger than ours, that patrolled lazily around the perimeter of the complex. They were colored a bloody red, and were definitely armed.
“Ah don’t like floatin’ up here like ducks,” South groused. She tapped on the window, indicating the buildings below us. “Take us down over there.”
Tinker complied silently, bringing us closer to the taller structures that surrounded the refinery. A nearby rooftop proved to be the best place to land the small vehicle. It was a snug fit, but it was unlikely anypony would stumble along and find it while we were busy storming the Blood Claw base.
We all climbed out onto the roof. Tinker was the last to get out, taking her cumbersome saddlebags with her. I caught South shoot an disapproving look, but her sister didn’t seem to notice, and walked up to join us on the edge of the building. It was a terrific view of the refinery. If there was a definition for gang-fortress, this place fit the bill pretty well. The Blood Claws were bunked in, and the fortifications looked resilient enough to hold off anything short of an orbital assault.
“Anypony want to explain what the appeal of a refinery as a base of operations is?” Dexter inquired. “Cause I saw dozens of other buildings that would work better.”
“That’d require th’ Blood Claws tuh be smart.” Tinker replied brusquely. Her eyes scanned the compound as she scratched her head. “Th’ way Ah see it, most refineries and the like on Sigma are built tuh last. Speccy’s place goes through about a hundred tons of slag in a few weeks, and we’re just a metal yard. Whutever can’t get recycled comes tuh places like this.” She swept a hoof indicating the entire area, pointing out not only the building in front of us, but all the adjoining ones.
“All that useless metal, melted down around the clock. A place that big could prob’ly handle a couple kilotons of raw metal a month, so anypony that owned it wouldn’t want it breakin’ down all the time. Places like these? More fortified th’n military fortresses.”
A loud whoosh came to a sudden halt in the air above us, followed by the steady rhythm of wingbeats. “Took you guys long enough.”
There was a sudden thud behind us, and I spun around immediately. The others quickly followed, bringing out their weapons. What we saw was welcome; standing on Tinker’s ship, with wings aloft and smiling slyly, was Firestorm. She hopped down from her vantage, fluttering her wings to gracefully bring her to the ground. She had a critical look in her eyes, regarding our raised weapons with an arched eyebrow.
“You guys look a little tense,” she teased with a grin.
“Well you went off on your own,” I countered. “Kinda hard to rest easy when one of your own is on her own in a place like this.”
“Yeah,” South added. “If yew git’ killed, who’s gunna buy my drinks when Ah win our bet?”
Firestorm chuckled. “We’ll see.” She walked up to the edge, staring out over the focus of our attention. “I only just got here. Banshee’s pretty fast, but not fast enough to lose me. I don’t think she realised I was following her.”
She tapped her visor and cast her gaze down near the bottom of the wall. On the ground level, there was an some sort of security blockade at the base of the wall. The fortified structure towered over the vacant street below us. A huge, steel blast door was the key feature of the entrance, and was just as imposing as the rest of the place, but I figured Firestorm’s visor showed her a lot more. “There she is, see?” She tapped her visor, and my omni-tool chirped as it activated. A window display popped up, showing me a live feed of her scope.
Looking through the zoomed view of her visor, I could clearly see what we were up against at the fortified entrance. It was surrounded by Mutts and Manticores, all heavily armored. Something was approaching them, limping slightly but otherwise moving with determination, despite the stains of red that dripped from her black armor.
“I’ll give Banshee this. She doesn’t know when to give up.”
“Gryphons tend to be more resilient and stubborn than Pegasi,” Firestorm added. “If she’s just a Lieutenant, I’m more worried about what a Praetor’s like?”
“You really think we’ll run into one?”
“We’re in the middle of their territory, I’d be more surprised if we run into just one.”
“Well, hopefully we can handle it.” I looked back at Banshee. She was still at the gate, talking to the guards. Her arms were flailing around, as the Manticore’s she was talking to just stood still and listened. She pointed her claws at the Mutts occasionally, but I couldn’t see any reactions in their faces. The lithe creatures began to surround her as she continued her tirade.
Firestorm smirked.“She doesn’t look very happy.”
“Well, her boss did try to kill her,” I stated. Everypony gave began giving me odd looks, and I quickly began to explain. “I overheard her conversations with him when I hacked her radio. He knowingly set off the bombs when he realised we were in the building with them. The blast was meant for us and the club, but he had to have known she might have been caught in it too.”
“I guess that’s why she’s so angry. All she’s doing is shouting at the guards, and—”
Firestorms eyes went wide. I swung my head back to the gate, just in time to see one of the hounds draw a weapon and point it at Banshee’s back. She didn’t notice as she kept yelling, but one of the Manticores shrugged his head towards the Mutt. Though the visor, his face turned from stony boredom to ferocious anger in the span of a second. A bloodcurdling roar blasted from the street, loud enough even for us to hear, as the Manticore pointed his own massive gun at the hostile Mutt. There was a bright flash, and a thunderous explosion quickly followed.
As the light subsided, there was a chorus of shots that continued in the chaos. Smaller flashes flickered in the dim city street, lighting up the towering walls as bright as day. From above, there were more explosions from the sky as the ships that once lazily floated around began to fire on each other.
“What the hell?”
Firestorm brushed her lengthy mane aside to get a clear view of what was unfolding before us, her face filled with the same confusion that washed over the rest of us. It was unbelievable; with a single shot, the entire compound had descended into madness. Looking back down,after the dust had settled, Banshee was still standing with the Manticores, but not a single Mutt was left standing. She walked slowly over their remains, taking the time to kick one of the bodies, before she waved her claws in the air at her brutish guardians. They nodded slowly, one of them moving to the gate and pressing one of his paws to the controls.
The massive gate began to open slowly, allowing them entrance into the warzone that they had created. The echoes of fighting came from all over the refinery, punctuated by the buzzing ships above us bursting into flame and falling out of the sky. The three of them disappeared behind the wall, leaving us with little else to watch aside from the insanity that spread all over the area.
“Anypony got any danged idea whut th’ hell jus’ happened?” South asked harshly.
“I think you were right, Shepard,” Dexter replied. “I have a feeling Banshee is out for blood.”
“But the entire compound?” Firestorm questioned exasperatedly. “I expected a small scale fire, not a Zephyr-blasted inferno!”
While the others argued over that, I kept my eyes on the entrance. After Banshee had departed, I noticed that the doors had remained open, and no Mutt or Manticore had come along in the intervening time to continue the watch or even reseal the gate. Everything was engulfed in chaos, with fire and fury rushing across the entire landscape. Which gave me an idea.
“I think this will work in our favor.”
The others gave me a look, bordering on dumbfounded stares. “Whut do yew mean, Shepard?”
I pointed down to the unattended gate. “They look like they have a lot on their hooves at the moment. They haven’t even shut the gate. If we were still looking for a way in, I’d say that’s a pretty good one right there.”
“Shepard’s right,” Firestorm confirmed. “There’s no one there. This might be our best chance to get in without getting shot at.”
“Looks like there’s plenty o’ shootin’ goin’ on right now,” Tinker said flatly.
“Yeah, but they’re busy shooting at each other. So they won’t waste time shooting at us, as long as we don’t give them a reason to.”
“It’s as good an opportunity as any,” Dexter agreed. “And Banshee might lead us to her boss and the answers we want.”
Everything about the plan seemed to fit. The only real trouble was dealing with the havoc of the apparent coup that was going on, but hopefully Firestorm was right about them being too busy to worry about us, at least until we got past the walls.
“Alright, then let’s get down there. The faster we start the sooner we can get out of here.”
“Heh, ‘bout time ya started actin’ like a leader, Shepard,” South said sarcastically.
I took one last glance at the refinery before leaving the edge of the roof to look for the way down to the street. This plan was ten different kinds of crazy, just like all my other ones. So far they worked, so at least I had a positive record, for now. I caught South smirking at me after her little comment, which I returned. A little positivity went a long way, at least for calming my frenzied mind in the face of battle.
“One step at a time, South.”