//------------------------------// // 29: Words of Courage and Dark Changes // Story: Bear, Scribe and Paladin // by Speven Dillberg //------------------------------// Luna looked calmly over the amassed Guard. So few... Before the time of Nightmare Moon, the yard would have been a sea of gold and ebony, countless soldiers ready to fight. Now, though, she saw ponies that were nervous, scared and of far fewer numbers than she would have liked. She cleared her throat, amplifying her voice to quell the uneasy mutterings. “Guardsponies,” she began. Luna paused, trying to find the right words. “I do not have to tell you what has happened. Nor will I command you to fight.” Muttering broke out anew. “I simply ask that you help defend your homes, your families, your country. The Diamond Dogs have been empowered by some dark force. They will show no mercy. They must be stopped. We cannot allow them to win. “For too long, Equestria has been peaceful. Six months ago, we nearly paid a heavy price for that. We have been forced, yes, I will not deny that. But we are stronger than they think. They have angered Equestria. They have riled her sons and daughters. In times of old, those who made that mistake found themselves facing a rampaging stampede of a million hooves, bearing down on them with righteous fury.” Luna punctuated her statement with a stomp. “Our foes were left broken, our strength undeniable! “Once, the proud griffons feared the might of our military! The mighty minotaur tribes would surrender upon seeing even the merest gleam of our armour! The cunning of the Changelings was no match for our own! Even the ancient dragons dared not challenge us!” Luna’s shouts echoed throughout the yard, filling the minds of those listening with the images of past glories. “The dens of Diamond Dog raiders were made into their tombs! “In the past, those curs have attacked towns, taken slaves and even abducted foals! That ends NOW!” she yelled. “No longer will we let those mongrels fight on their terms! We will take the fight to them! We will force them onto the back foot and crush their resolve! We will find whatever dark being commands them! We shall make them pay for their crimes, with magic and steel! And any who stand in our way shall fall!” Luna took a deep breath. “I ask only one question of you. Will you fight, or will you run?” There was a very tense silence. After ten seconds that seemed to stretch forever, one of the guards stepped forwards. A quick glance told Luna that he was a simple pegasus private. He walked up to her, stopping three feet from her. “Your Highness,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “When?” he asked. Celestia watched from afar, her expression one of sadness. “Oh Luna,” she asked quietly, “what have you done?” Thomas looked down the barrel of his assault carbine. “Whatcha doin’?” He fumbled to keep his grip on the piece of weaponry as he turned around. He frowned when he saw Apple Bloom. “What are you doing here?” The filly shrugged. “Ah got bored.” Thomas rolled his eyes and turned back to his table. “Weapon maintenance.” “Why?” the filly asked, rearing on her hind legs and leaning against the table to get a better view. “Need to make sure it works,” he stated, putting the barrel back down and grabbing the stock. “I think it goes like this...” “Hmmm...” The filly watched as the man reassembled his gun. As the man rested the stock against his shoulder, she spoke up again. “How’d ya do that?” “Practice.” Thomas pulled the trigger, producing a click. He seemed satisfied with that and set the rifle back on the table. He then grabbed his Industrial Hand and flicked a switch on the side. The small circular saw blade came to life, a high-pitched whirring sounding throughout the room. “Hmm.” He turned it off and reached for his screwdriver, unscrewing one of the covers. “What’s that one do?” Apple Bloom asked loudly. Thomas turned to the filly. “You don’t want to know. It’s messy.” “Can’t be any worse than when Ah ended up covered in a barrel of cider that went bad,” she answered, sticking her tongue out at the memory. “It’s a weapon,” Thomas answered bluntly. Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Ah ain’t stupid, Ah already knew that.” “One designed to be as painful as possible for whoever’s unfortunate enough to come up against it,” he elaborated. “No, looks fine,” he muttered to himself. The little pony seemed perturbed. “Why would ya use somethin’ like that?” “Intimidation. If they see someone they know screaming in pain, and a madman standing over them, they’re gonna run. Means less fighting.” Thomas closed the panel and turned on the Industrial Hand again. He smiled grimly as the little saw came to life, spinning with enough force to slice through bone like paper. “Makes what I’m gonna have to do easier.” “So... you just wanna scare them away?” Apple Bloom asked hopefully. “Yeah. I don’t want to kill any more than I have to. If this is the way to go about it...” Thomas turned off the Industrial Hand and put it on, moving his fingers to get used to the feeling of the protective glove. “So be it.” Dom replaced the panel that covered the electronics that allowed her arm to move. “Yeah, I really need someone to teach me how to fix this thing myself,” she muttered. “Fix what?” The ghoul very nearly lashed out at the voice. Her hand was halfway there when she stopped herself. “How did you sneak up on me?” she asked the filly. Sweetie Belle shrugged, blissfully unaware of how close she was to being backhanded across the room. “My sister asks the same thing,” she answered innocently. “What were you talking about?” “My arm,” Dom stated as though that explained everything. “What about your arm?” Dom went over to her laser rifle and picked it up. “I lost my arm a few years ago. This is just a prosthetic, a replacement.” “Why didn’t you just grow a new one?” The pure childish innocence behind the words made the ghoul chuckle. “What do you think I am, some sort of lizard? I can’t grow back body parts.” Dom’s smile disappeared. “At least, I think I can’t. Hmm,” she grunted, caught off-guard by this line of thought. She had never really tested her regenerative abilities before. Could she? “Rarity said you were gonna fight the Diamond Dogs.” Sweetie’s voice sounded sad. “Why?” “There are two things I can’t stand.” Dom picked up her rifle and pulled out the microfusion cell. “Bullies and slavers. The Dogs are both.” The filly stood there in silence as the woman went about readying her weapons for the fight. Eventually, she broke the oppressive silence. “Ms. Dominica? What did you mean before?” “Call me Dom. I’m not that old,” the ghoul replied. “And what do you mean ‘before’?” “You know, when I said you were good, and you said you weren’t,” Sweetie clarified. “What did you mean?” “I... probably shouldn’t say,” Dom said evasively, going to her sword. She didn’t like explaining the idea of grey morality to someone who seemed to see the world in black and white. Sweetie Belle jumped onto the bed and looked at the ghoul. “Please?” she asked, her eyes going wide and her bottom lip trembling. Dom just stared. “Dear God that has to be criminal,” she said loudly. “All right fine, just stop that,” she added, waving her left hand at the filly. She missed the smirk the filly gave as she turned to sit down. “Okay, firstly, there’s something you have to understand. Where I’m from, it’s... well, it’s a dump.” “A dump? What, like where rubbish goes?” “No. Well, sort of. Most of the buildings are in ruins, the ones that aren’t are usually filled with giant bugs that want to eat you, the ones that aren’t are raider bases where everyone wants to... well, kill you, there isn’t much food, and the only real water source has to be purified so you don’t poison yourself. “And then there’s what’s outside the city ruins. Scorpions the size of sheds, mutant bears, packs of wild dogs, rogue military robots, Deathclaws...” “Deathclaws?” Sweetie asked, eyes wide in alarm. “The less said the better,” Dom muttered. “The point is, where I’m from is dangerous. One wrong step, and you’re being attacked by something that you can’t fight off. I’ve done what I can to make it safer, but...” The ghoul sighed as she rubbed her right arm with her left hand, looking at both the metal armour and gaunt appendage. “Everything has a price.” “But... what does this have to do with being good?” “Because to be a good person in the Wastes, you have to do a lot of bad things. I have... a lot of blood on my hands. Most of it, people who deserved it. People the Wastes was better off without.” “Really bad ponies?” “Downright evil. Rapists, murderers, slavers,” Dom clarified. “Some, though... I’ve made mistakes, and others paid the price. It doesn’t stop hurting.” She closed her eyes and faced down at her lap, taking a deep breath. “Some of them, I really cared for.” The ghoul was caught off-guard when she felt something grab her around the waist. “Huh?” She opened her eyes and saw Sweetie Belle giving her a hug. “Why are - ” “You said you were hurting,” the filly replied, cutting Dom off. “You looked sad too.” Dom just sat there dumbfounded, unsure what to do about the pony clinging to her. Eventually, she awkwardly petted her. “Thanks.” “Why do you need all that armour?” Veronica turned around and saw a small orange pegasus looking at her weirdly. “Well, it keeps me alive.” “But it looks so bulky. How do you even move in that stuff?” Scootaloo asked. “It’s called power armour for a reason,” the woman smirked. “How does it even work?” the filly asked loudly, head tilted as though that would let her see the internal workings. “It’s kinda complicated. All that matters is that it makes up for its own weight, and then some.” Scootaloo looked at her weirdly. “That didn’t explain anything.” Veronica sighed. “Okay, an example. Umm...” She looked around aimlessly for a few seconds before snapping her fingers. “Ah! Without the armour, I can only lift you. With it, I can lift you and your friends easily.” Scootaloo frowned. “So... it makes you super-strong?” she asked. “Something like that.” Veronica shrugged. “Why are you here, anyway?” she asked. The filly sighed. “My parents had to go to some thing to do with this stupid war.” She jumped onto the Scribe’s bed and lied down. “First time I see them in months and I can’t even spend any time with them.” “Really?” Veronica asked, sitting next to the filly. The weight of her armour made the mattress creak and groan as it held her. “Yeah, I live with my aunt. Aunty Cloudchaser’s nice, but... well, she’s always bringing home stallions.” Scootaloo pouted. “They’re usually nice, but a few of them were jerks.” Veronica sighed and started petting the little pony on the head. Then she stopped. “Err...” “It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Scootaloo said around the blanket covering half her face. “It’s kinda nice.” Veronica resumed her petting. “Have you talked about this to anyone?” “I try, but nopony ever listens. They think that because I’m just a filly that nothing I say matters,” Scootaloo muttered. “They’re wrong. Everyone has something say. People just need to listen. Maybe I can talk to your parents for you?” Veronica suggested. “They’ll probably listen to an adult so...” Scootaloo mused on the idea for a moment. “Thanks.” “Hey, it’s nothing. At least you still have your parents,” the Scribe responded breezily. They sat there in silence for awhile, enjoying each other’s company. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask something. Those marks the other ponies have.” “Y-you mean cutie marks?” Scootaloo asked sleepily. “Is that what they’re called?” When the pony nodded, Veronica continued. “What do they mean? Do they mean anything?” “They show what a pony can do best. Some ponies get theirs’ really early. Some...” She glanced at her flank. “You’re upset that you don’t have yours?” Veronica asked. The pony nodded again. “Maybe you shouldn’t try forcing it.” “That’s what everypony else says!” the filly exclaimed angrily. “You don’t even have a cutie mark!” she pointed out. “Well maybe they have a point,” the Scribe said calmly. “Why else would they say that?” she asked with a smile. “I just want my cutie mark already!” Scootaloo yelled. She slumped down and pouted. “I’m sick of being a blank flank.” “Everypony gets a cutie mark, right?” Veronica asked. “Then what’s the problem? It’ll happen when its ready.” “I’m ready,” she grumbled. “Why can’t it be?” Alone in the barracks, a mare lay on her bed, focusing intently on a pile of papers. Among them were various intelligence reports, lists of resources, maps and weather forecasts. She needed every single piece of information she could get her grubby blue hooves on. As she grabbed her woefully large glasses and put them on, pushing her midnight blue mane out of the way, she pulled out a piece of paper. On it were printed the various magics known to be utilised by Diamond Dogs. It had seen some addition in recent times, most notably after the botched assault on the den outside Ponyville. “Lightning. Definitely outside the norm. How are they utilising it?” she muttered. “Wands? Staves?” She grumbled when she looked at the map. It was an aerial map, showing nothing about what to expect underground. “Astral Gaze will need to perform some remote reconnaissance before we even think of putting a hoof in there. It’d be suicide not to know what we’re walking into.” She shuffled the papers again, this time looking at a report about the three ‘visitors’. “Hmm... The male is unquestionably dangerous, as are the females. The fact that one of them has regeneration and can walk off crippling injuries is incredible. Not sure about the other female, though her armour does seem impenetrable...” As she muttered to herself, her ear twitched when something shifted next to her bunk. “What have I said about interrupting me when I’m working?” she growled. “No reason to snap, Gambit.” Gambit turned and looked at the passive smile of one of her fellow Knights. “Oh, Shade, it’s you.” She turned back to her work. “I thought it might have been Blink.” “You look ridiculous with those on,” the other mare said, gesturing with a hoof at the pair of ludricously-oversized glasses. “Doesn’t matter,” Gambit muttered, ignoring the ivory-white mare’s jab. “Things aren’t adding up.” “What do you mean?” “The Diamond Dogs are aggressive, but it’s never been this bad. Every other record of anything like this, they never initiated it. Even the Gem Colony Massacre, that only happened after a settler killed a Dog for the gems she wore.” Gambit frowned. “They’re always defensive.” “But they take slaves,” Shade pointed out uncertainly. “They have been recorded taking travellers, but those are isolated cases. They usually go for trespassers. And they tend to release them after a few years anyway,” Gambit explained. “Which makes the fact that they’ve been attacking towns for slaves really disturbing.” She passed a piece of paper to her comrade. “According to this, a number of Dogs stopped by griffons were found with nets, vials of knock-out gas and manacles. One of them was wearing a set himself, probably some odd fashion statement, but the rest were the perfect size for ponies.” “So...” “So something has changed the centuries-old habits of Diamond Dogs, and whatever it was isn’t natural.” Gambit took off her glasses and stared at Shade. “I think something’s controlling the minds of their leaders, maybe the entire population.” Shade blinked. “We need to tell somepony.”