//------------------------------// // Chapter 13: Interrogation // Story: Skyfall: Treason // by Dusk Quill //------------------------------// “Why are we down here again, boss?” Sharp Shot asked with an audible yawn.         “Because the longer we delay, the further away Union gets.”         The six ponies of Skyfall had all filed into their Briefing Room, boxes of files and information relating to Union lining the walls. Since the night before, Spitfire had transitioned all of Union’s records to Skyfall to help aid them in their search. The Wonderbolts had been put on alert to be on the lookout for the three ponies. The net had been cast.         Each pony was situated across the room. Fleethoof and Valiant sat at the table with a stack of dossiers in front of them. Sharp Shot was curled up in one of the chairs, reclining back and forth and swiveling around in a circle idly as he read. Blue Shield sat on the floor in a fortress of boxes, rifling through each one methodically. Cupcake and Lightning Flash had taken up the old foxhole method, sitting with their backs against one another to make sure the other stayed awake.         The sun had barely begun to peek over the horizon when Fleethoof had summoned Skyfall Team in for an emergency meeting. Suffice to say, all did not perceive the urgency in a missing unit unrelated to them as a danger.         “Can’t we just let the Guard handle this one? Or the Wonderbolts? They belong to them, don’t they?” the sniper asked.         “The Guard is still mostly being retrained, so they aren’t an option for a wide search,” said Fleethoof, his eyes never leaving the files in front of his face. “The Wonderbolts are looking, but we’re helping them. There’s only so many of them, and trying to find three ponies across Equestria is like finding a needle in a haystack.”         Sharp Shot groaned and spun around in his chair again. “So why are we going through all their files again?”         The captain gave an exasperated sigh. “Because we need to know everything they know. That’s how we think like them, and that’s how we track them down.”         Sharp Shot stopped spinning and hopped up to his hooves. He trotted carefully around the boxes to the whiteboard up at the front of the room. Pictures of the three missing ponies hung up, with notes written underneath each.         “Okay, let’s think about this again,” he said, levitating the marker with his magic. “We know they have basic spec ops training, and have a grudge against us, Spitfire, and the Guard.”         “Correct.”         “And they’re armed?”         Fleethoof nodded. “Spitfire confirmed their armory was missing Union’s weaponry.”         Sharp Shot stared at the board, tapping the marker against his chin. “So what would three armed, angry ponies be doing running off on their own?”         “Killing,” Cupcake shouted out from the other side of the room.         “Really? Because I thought they were gonna go backpacking in Whitetail Woods,” Sharp said sarcastically. “They could be coming after us, or Spitfire, depending on who they blame.”         That got Fleethoof’s attention. “Slow down, Sharp. We’re not jumping straight to assuming they’ve committed treason and murder just because they went rogue. They might be going gung-ho and trying to finish their mission on their own.”         “We have to assume they’re dangerous though.”         Fleethoof had to agree with the unicorn. The only reason those three would take guns was to cause some harm to somepony. He just didn’t like the thought of his own brothers in arms turning against them like that.         “So we canvas everything they know, and then make a logical map as to where we think they went,” he said unhappily. “All right, but can I at least play my traitor angle in my search?”         Fleethoof rolled his eyes. “Whatever lets you get work done, Sharp. Let’s just find these colts, before they do anything stupid.”         In the quiet of his room, Fleethoof flipped a bit through the air, catching it back in his hoof before tossing it back up again. It was the first time he had come up from Skyfall Headquarters since they started the search, having dedicated all his time and energy to the ponyhunt underway. Now, after days, they had nothing to show for it. They couldn’t figure out any logical route the three ponies would take. It was as if Union had dropped off the face of the world.         Fleethoof’s deep blue eyes rested on the folder for Operation Union on his desk. The stallion sat reclined in his chair, rear legs rested up on the surface of the desk. Only the lone candle perched beside the folder illuminated the dark room, casting the space in a melancholy minuet of shadows and dim light.         The rest of Skyfall Team had gone home for the evening, under orders from their leader. Fresh eyes were needed now more than ever. They had run almost every lead and angle, and had come up empty hooved every time. To say it was frustrating was rapidly becoming an understatement.         Outside, snow had just begun to fall. Hearth’s Warming would be coming up soon. But the holiday spirit was not felt in the pony’s heart. Only trouble and worry took up residence there. When they had begun, he had fully expected Union to show up again a day or two later, apologizing for running off with some fantastical excuse of trying to bring the bad guy in themselves on some shoddy anonymous tip. But as time drew on, his hope died, and concerns of treachery darkened his mind.         They wouldn’t… he continued to reassure himself. They wouldn’t…         …But what if they did…?         Fleethoof toyed with the thought of having to deal with Union if they had turned on Equestria. He’d handled Night Shade well enough, but this was different. These ponies were his own kin—his brothers in arms. They had worked together, as briefly as it had been, and were the protégés of Skyfall’s program.         The image of having to fight Union manifested in his mind. He could see himself struggling with Lightning Strike, forcing the pony to the ground, and pressing the muzzle of his pistol to his head…         He jerked upright and nearly toppled his chair over, shaking his head violently to rid himself of that mental horror. That was not something he wanted to think about right now. But he had to admit to himself, as dark as it was, it was a very real possibility. He had seen the world, and as much as he hoped, he knew a precaution was a safer bet than a hope.         As a member of the Royal Guard, he had taken a vow to protect Equestria from all threats, foreign and domestic. He intended to see that vow through to the death.         Yet, even still, the idea of killing his own countrymen left a bitter taste in his mouth. Fleethoof leaned forward against the desk, swallowing back a lump in his throat as he eyeballed the lone dossier on the table. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for Union to return home, and to keep them from having to hunt them down like animals.         Somewhere between his worrying and his praying, Fleethoof fell into a troubled slumber.         A loud knock at the door startled the pegasus from sleep. Fleethoof shot upright in his seat, his head spinning from the rush of blood. He wiped a line of drool from his chin, blinking his eyes in the sudden harsh light. A glance at the clock told him it was morning—late morning, at that.         Another knock at the door. Whoever it was urgently needed his attention. Fleethoof groaned and stretched out his legs and wings, feeling relief and sensation instantly flood back to his sleep-addled muscles. He slipped a pill into his mouth to take the edge off the ache in his wing and proceeded to the door, just as another pounding assaulted the wooden surface.         “All right, I’m coming,” he called out, pulling the door open groggily. “Sharp Shot? What is it?”         The unicorn looked like he had gotten as much sleep as Fleethoof had. “Boss, I finally found something I think you need to take a look at.”         Fleethoof rubbed his tired eyes while Sharp Shot levitated a file out of his saddlebags.         “It’s about Union. I found out what’s going on.”         “What is this?” The captain opened the file, looking over it briefly. “This is a personnel report for a drill sergeant in Cloudsdale.”         “She’s the CO who recommended one of the Union members,” Sharp Shot explained, speaking hurriedly and with great energy and concern. “I didn’t find anything abnormal with Union’s service records, so I started checking the backgrounds on the ponies associated with them, and—”         “Get to the point, Sharp.”         The overexcited pony took a deep breath, and then huskily whispered, “She doesn’t exist, sir.”         Fleethoof blinked his eyelids rapidly in confusion.         “...What?”         “She doesn’t exist. She has no service record here in the Archives. Everything on her is this one local report from Cloudsdale,” said Sharp Shot as Fleethoof began reading more thoroughly through the report. “It’s as if she didn’t exist at all before Union began.”         Fleethoof’s forehead creased as his mind worked swiftly to process everything. “If she doesn’t exist, then who is she? How does she fit into this?”         “I think she’s the mole, boss. She infiltrated Cloudsdale’s infrastructure to slip somepony into Union deliberately to sabotage the op.”         Worry twisted Fleethoof’s stomach into a tight knot. Grim realization dawned on him.         “That means there is a traitor in Fireteam Union, and the others are being led into something,” he said in surmise. “How did screening miss this? Do we know where Union is yet?”         Sharp Shot frowned and shook his head. “Not yet, boss.”         “Well, do we at least know who she slipped into the team?”         A grin spread across Sharp’s lips. “Yes, sir. But I think you’ll be even more surprised when you see who she is.”           He handed Fleethoof another file. Surprisingly, this one bore the Skyfall insignia on the cover. Confused, Fleethoof snapped the seal, and looked inside. It was the report from the Los Pegasus operation, with added details from Lieutenant Spitfire, including Union’s report, damage assessments, personnel files on the captives…         Fleethoof looked at the photograph, then back to the faux drill sergeant’s picture. A knowing look crossed his face, eyes smoldering with dark fire.         “Gather the team.”         The mare sat silently in the small, confined room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all painted the same drab gray color. The fluorescent light overhead hummed softly as it performed its task, illuminating the room decently enough to see. The mare sat in a cold, metal chair, leaning against a metal table. The only other things in the room were a single locked door and a pane of glass in front of her. It looked like a mirror. She knew better.         From the other side of the one-way glass, Lieutenant Spitfire stood and glowered at the mare coldly. So this was the leak in Operation Union. One of the mares captured in the Los Pegasus raid. And to think she had been in their custody all this time… It made her sick to think her own team had been compromised from the start. But at least it was time to see some justice done.         The door opened, catching Spitfire’s attention. A soft smile touched her lips as she watched her second in command, Soarin, walk in. He gave her a wide, all-too happy smile, and moved to stand beside her.         “You okay?” he asked. Spitfire just nodded curtly. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault.”         “I know it wasn’t,” she spoke heavily. “But I still feel guilty. I should have realized something was wrong. I’m better than this.”         Soarin nudged her gently, that playful twinkle in his eye never fading, and never failing to make her smile, even just a little.         “Well, we’re fixing the problem now!” How reassuring. “Aren’t you gonna go in and start questioning her?”         “Nope.”         Now Soarin was confused. “Why not?”         Spitfire pointed as the door in the adjacent interrogation room opened up. “Because they are.”         The mare glanced up when she heard the door open. She had been expecting one of the two Wonderbolt lieutenants to come in and start yelling at her, screaming and cussing her out, trying to pry some answer from her lips. That was what her master had told her would happen in this circumstance. She did not expect the group of six ponies, dressed in ominous black uniforms, to come in, each carrying something different.         The first one, the red pegasus, she recognized from the Los Pegasus incident. He had been the one who had taken her down. He was carrying a bucket of water in his mouth. The next was the second pegasus pony. She remembered him getting clipped in a gunfight. He had a burlap sack in his teeth. The two unicorns were levitating what looked like medical and surgical equipment in. And lastly, the bulky and smaller Earth ponies brought in a box each, the contents sealed out of view.         The ponies set their equipment down along the walls while the pony that had entered first, who she guessed was their leader, took a seat opposite of her. One of them shut the door, and then there was silence in the soundproofed room.         Fleethoof stared the mare down from the other side of the table. She studied each of the ponies, one by one, before her lavender eyes finally came to rest on his. At first, she looked confused, even slightly scared. But then a wicked smile crept over her face, and her eyes grew cold.         “Well?” she asked impatiently.         Fleethoof stared at her, unmoving, unfazed. “’Well’?”         “Isn’t this the part where you start reading that file and ask questions? Or is this your first interrogation?”         Fleethoof pursed his lips, making a soft popping sound with them as he glanced down at the folder in front of him. He shuffled it back and forth between his hooves momentarily, playing with the seal. He nodded once, just a short jerk of his head.         “This clearly isn't your first. You’re right, if I was anypony else, I would…”         The captain tossed the folder roughly over his shoulder, the contents scattering carelessly across the floor. Fleethoof’s eyes narrowed as he folded his hooves across the table, glaring at his current adversary.         “But I don’t need it. I already know what it says.”         “Oh?” The mare looked intrigued. “And what’s that?”         “Nothing.” He shook his head slowly. “Because you don’t exist.”         A light illuminated the filly’s eyes, and her conniving smile widened to a predatory grin. “Is that so? Looks like somepony’s been doing their homework.”         “What I don’t understand is why go through all the trouble to sabotage Union?” Fleethoof wondered aloud. “What’s in it for you?”         Silence passed for a moment.         “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”         “Oh, I think you do,” said Fleethoof abruptly, impatience touching his voice with a grave tone. “You slipped Glider into Union, because he doesn’t exist either. His transcript and records were forged—by you.”         The mare’s expression remained as steady as a rock. She was completely unfazed by the soldier's accusations.         “You don’t have any proof of anything,” she said bravely. “It’s all circumstantial at best.”         Another nod from the pegasus seated across from her. “Which is why you’re going to confess and tell me why you did it.”         “Oh am I?” asked the mare with a light laugh. “You must be new to this interrogating thing.”         “This is your last chance. Tell me why, now.”         Across the table, the filly folded her hooves across her chest and reclined casually in her chair. Fleethoof nodded in understanding, and rapped his hooves rhythmically against the metal surface of the table. All the while, his calm, steady poker face never faltered.         “You know, you’re pretty smart, miss… You know all the rules of engagement with the Guard, it seems… You know our standard procedure, what we can and can’t do, all the ins and outs of our system…” Fleethoof observed, rising to his hooves and pushing his chair back. He circled slowly around the table, bringing his lips down beside her ear, and whispered, “Too bad we aren’t the Guard.”         The mare’s expression dropped dramatically at that sentence alone. Before she could bat an eyelash, Cupcake grabbed the chair and jammed it under the door handle, securely barricading the door from the inside. From the other room, Spitfire flinched as she watched the display. Soarin stood in shock and awe, mouth agape.         “Aren’t you gonna go stop them?” he asked incredulously.         “They know what they’re doing… Plus we can’t really stop them now, can we?”         The mare began to look concerned for once since they’d started the interrogation. “What are you doing?”         “I told you, Miss… whatever your real name is: you’re going to tell us what we want to know right now,” Fleethoof casually said, pacing around behind her as Valiant tied her hooves with a cord from one of the unlabeled boxes. “And you should know beforehoof, we’re very patient stallions. ‘Now’ could be right now, or, say, five minutes from now… an hour or two… How long do we have, Val?”         Valiant answered on cue. “Forever, Captain.”         “Did you hear that? We have forever to do this,” threatened the captain, patting the mare’s shoulder like he were her friend. “Still sure you don’t want to tell us anything? Hmm?”         No response.         “Get the water.”         Cupcake grabbed the large bucket of water as Valiant and Sharp Shot pushed the table out of the way. Fleethoof kicked the chair out from underneath the mare, sending her crashing to the floor, hard. She shook her head, forcing the stars out of her eyes, when Fleethoof grabbed her by her mane and lifted her head up.         “Last chance,” he offered in a sweet tone.         “Fuck you, pony scum…”         “Hood.”         And then the mare’s vision went black as a burlap sack was dropped over her face. She made some muffled complaints. Fleethoof ignored her as he shoved her head down into the bucket of icy cold water. The mare instantly began to kick and thrash, trying to get free. Cupcake and Sharp Shot helped restrain her as Fleethoof kept her head underwater.         The water frothed and bubbled as she tried to scream, burning up her oxygen in a vain attempt at escape. This had not been what her master had told her would happen at all. Shrouded in frigid darkness, feeling like she was going to drown, she actually felt true fear for her life.         The stallion stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the fighting and violent splashing of the water as he counted off the seconds. Five seconds. And then they pulled her back out, coughing and sputtering. Fleethoof yanked the dripping wet hood off of her face. She looked shell-shocked, her wet mane matted to her fur at odd angles as she gasped and choked for air.         “Still don’t feel like talking to us?”         “What… the fuck… is wrong with you…?!” she cried out breathlessly.         “I think she needs another swim.”         “No, wait!”         On went the hood. Down into the water she went for a second time. Ten seconds. Up she came, soaked and breathless.         “How about now?”         This time, the mare didn’t even answer him. She continued to cough up water, ignorant to the fact that she was even being asked a question.         “Excuse me, miss,” Sharp Shot spoke sweetly, moving directly into her field of vision. “But my boss asked you a question very nicely. Would you like to talk to us now?”         The mare’s eyes narrowed, and she spat in the sniper’s face. Cupcake stifled a laugh, and Valiant’s eyes went wide, waiting to see how he reacted. Sharp Shot wiped his face, then shoved the hood back on her himself and dunked her again. Holding her face beneath the water with his magic's firm hold, Sharp Shot almost forgot to keep count of how long she had been in. Fifteen seconds passed before she returned to them.         Sharp Shot lifted her back out, and smacked her hard with the back of his hoof. She crumpled to the floor, the wet hood still clung skintight to her face.         “How about now, huh?” he asked through gritted teeth, vicious anger spewing from his voice. “Can you hear me in there, or do you have water in your ears? Hello? Hello?”         “You have connections between Glider and somepony else,” Fleethoof shouted over the commotion, leaning down over the mare’s prone form. “Tell me who, and tell me why. Now.”         Muffled cries came from the mare as she trembled and shook on the cold floor. Rolling his eyes, Fleethoof yanked the hood off. She was panting heavily, her cheek was marked red from Sharp's strike, and her eyes were watering. She was either crying or that badly oxygen deprived.         “Very nicely handled, Archangel.”         “Sorry, boss… Traitors just get to me.”         Both stallions exchanged a smirk, and then their attention returned once more to the hapless captive half-drowned at their hooves.         “Tell us why you inserted Glider into the unit,” Fleethoof said once more, unable to keep the growl out of his voice.         “Because I was told to!” she cried out. “My master told me I had to, and I had no choice! Whatever the master wants, I must obey. But he didn't say this would happen... this wasn't supposed to happen!”         Fleethoof exchanged a look between his teammates. Now they were getting somewhere, but even more questions had been brought up.         “Why did he want Glider in the unit?”         “To stir up dissent and break them apart… He wanted them to fall to pieces so he could manipulate them…”         “And who is your master?”         The mare’s eyes went wide in pure fear. “No! Please! Please don’t make me tell you!”         “Into the water.”         “NO!” the mare screamed and tried to fight off the advancing soldiers.         “Doc, get your scalpels ready,” Fleethoof ordered as the mare was submerged again. “We’re gonna have to move on to something more effective.”         “No, please! Stop!” the mare begged and pleaded. “I don’t know anything!”         “You know, I read somewhere that torture is a learning curve, but I’d say we’re doing pretty well so far, don’t you think, colts?” said the captain, his teammates murmuring in agreement. He stood up and pressed a hoof to the back of the mare’s leg. “Tell us who your master is and this will all be over.”         “I can’t!”         Fleethoof brought his hoof down as hard as he could on the joint in her leg twice. Something snapped, and the mare let out a bloodcurdling scream.         “Tell us who this ‘master’ is.”         “Please, no more!”         His hoof came down on her leg again, and she let loose another howl of pain. Fleethoof drew his sidearm and cocked the hammer. He got down beside her again, showing off the gun’s blue sheen to her.         “You saw what this did to your friend back in Los Pegasus,” he reminded her, noting the twinge of anxious worry cross her eyes. “Tell me who is behind this, and I promise this will all be over.”         The mare whimpered weakly, tears flowing down her face. But in her eyes, an anger-fueled fire still burned. Her body had broken, but her spirit hadn’t yet. Over in the adjacent room, Spitfire felt her stomach turn over as she watched. She could hear Soarin in the corner, dry heaving. The poor, gentle stallion didn’t have the stomach to watch.         “We… We have to stop them…” the second lieutenant choked out between retching.         “They know what they’re doing,” Spitfire reiterated, mostly to reassure herself as well as her partner. “Skyfall is special. They’re allowed to do this… I think.”         “Who are you…?” asked the disheveled mare, squeaking timidly, as she searched the captain’s face for any trace of mercy.         “I’m a very proud, very patriotic, very angry pegasus,” Fleethoof said, eyes smoldering with rage. “You put my brothers in harm’s way, and I will get an answer from you. Tell me who your master is, or this bullet is going right into your spine. I hope you enjoyed walking, because it’ll be a fond memory in a moment.”         “Chitin…!” she sobbed, voice shrill and hoarse. “His name is Chitin… He's the one Union's been after…”         All at once, everything became shockingly clear to Fleethoof. Chitin had infiltrated Union with a member of his own force to hinder their progress at stopping him, and to disestablish the unit from the inside out.         “Chitin doesn’t sound like the name of a pony,” he retorted. “We’ve been hunting a stallion.”         “That’s what you know him as… Chitin isn’t a pony… He can be anything he wants…”         Fleethoof’s brow creased. “What are you talking about?”         “Captain…” Blue Shield said suddenly.         Fleethoof glanced up to the medic, and followed his pointing hoof. The mare’s leg was bleeding from where the broken bone had torn through the flesh. But the blood that flowed out was thicker, more viscous than usual—and a deep, rich cobalt blue in color.         In shock, Fleethoof recoiled backwards, eyes wide with horror. The mare chuckled weakly and grinned up at the startled ponies. Briefly, her eyes flashed a vivid neon blue, and then her form shifted and the illusion broke. Instead of a pony mare bound on the floor of the interrogation room, a wounded pony-like insect creature had taken its place. The mare’s once pale orange coat had shifted, her skin covered by a shiny black carapace. Her eyes were a solid mass of bright blue, and sharp fangs protruded from where here teeth were. Membranous wings lay tucked against her back, a sharp horn protruded from her forehead, and her legs were dotted with holes clean through.         “What in the name of the Great Alicorn is that?!” Valiant asked, taking another step back.         “Is creature from depths of Tartarus!” Cupcake declared.         Sharp Shot moved closer to Fleethoof. “What is that thing, Captain?”         He shook his head in bewilderment. “I have no idea.”         The insect-like creature suddenly shifted back into its pony form as a mare, laughing weakly at the looks on Skyfall’s faces.         “You see now… why you can’t stop him…? He can be anything…” she wheezed, flipping her wet mane out of her face. “You can’t stop what you can’t find…”         “Watch us,” said Fleethoof. “Tell us where he is, and tell us where Glider is taking Union.”         “Glider is on his mission… His orders are his own… Even I do not know what they are, but my job is done…” the mare cooed mellifluously, almost taunting the ponies. “And I will never betray my master… Never…! And your precious little Union team will be lost forever…!”         The mare chuckled, and then she laughed. She laughed the most vile, wicked laugh Fleethoof had heard since Night Shade’s. It sent a chill down his spine. Gritting his teeth, he glanced back over his shoulder at his team. They were all looking to him for orders. It was his call.         "You know, I envy Glider..." She continued to cackle madly. "Hanging around that enamored, unrequited pegasus... He must be a walking banquet! And once he's turned, nothing will stop my master from spreading the war! With such heavy emotions hanging in the air, your world will make the perfect kingdom."         While the creature at his feet continued to laugh hysterically, Fleethoof placed a hoof on her back, holding her in place. Then he pointed the gun at her good leg and squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out, and the mare jerked and thrashed on the ground as the round found purchase through the skin, muscle, and bone. The laughter stopped all at once, leaving the creature howling and screeching.         "It buuuuurnnsssss! AAAAaaauuuggh!" the pony-disguised creature wailed in sheer agony.         “Let the Guard take her back into custody. She’ll live out the rest of her life in the prisons.”         “I guess we got all we could out of her,” Sharp said.         “She told us all she knew,” replied Fleethoof. “We know who’s behind this, and why. We just have to find them, and their locations were her trump card. She’d never give it up.”         Valiant pulled the chair away from the door, and the ponies exited one by one. “So we’re back to waiting for something to happen?”         Fleethoof breathed a heavy sigh. “It looks that way… I need to go see the princesses. They might be able to tell us what this… thing is.”         No sooner had Fleethoof stepped out into the hall, he heard a voice. “Captain Fleethoof! There you are!”         His head snapped to the side. A Royal Guard was approaching him, saluting the captain as he came closer.         “At ease. What is it, soldier?”         “Princess Celestia and Princess Luna need your immediate presence in The Situation Room, sir,” the guard reported, doing his best to ignore the horrific sounds coming from within the mostly soundproof room.           Fleethoof made an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Can it wait? I’m a little busy at the moment.”         “They told me to inform you that it was not a request. It was something about a union? They said you would understand.”         Union. The captain’s blood ran cold.         One sharp nod. “Take me to them.”