Perspective
A small rustling of leaves stirred the griffin from her slumber with a gasp. She quickly wiped the sleep from her eyes and looked down from the branch that she'd perched herself on to find her target yawning and standing up.
After a few minutes of watching, Silvia let out an antagonized groan and let her beak rest on her claw, her eyes looking lazily upon the brown cloaked stallion who was preforming the morning rituals he'd done ever since she found him two weeks ago. It was always the same: Wake up, stretch, get some water, feed himself and the other pony with him, scout his traps -which were very well hidden she found out, evident by a healing black eye-, and look for other food sources or just sit around and relax.
Silvia groaned and her mind began to wonder how she was given such a boring assignment. It seemed really exciting when she got the order, infiltrate the countries capital, locate the younger matriarch and get information on the target's whereabouts. How the fuck did something that sounded so dangerous and exciting end up with her sitting day in and day out on top of a branch that over looked a hobo living in the woods?
Sin rarely spoke, his partner, Shade even less. This whole mission was starting to driver her insane from boredom, the whole time she'd been observing the two she'd only got seven or eight quotes.
Curious to her accuracy, she reached into her black leather jacket and produced her pad, seven quotes and they weren't anything useful! Why was Malich wasting her time with this? What was so important?
'Yes Malich, he likes to sleep in the dirt and drink water from trees. Oh yea, this is a high profile threat for sure.' Rolling her eyes, the eagle/lion let out a sigh. Her tedious task getting the better of her, she began to entertain the idea of simply returning to HQ, claiming she'd been spotted and the mission comprimised. No amount of yelling or screaming that her boss could do would come close to the current torture she was enduring..
Suddenly, something happened that she hadn't expected. A lavender unicorn mare ventured into the camp and addressed him.
Happy that something was happening that didn't involve silent work, Silvia grabbed a pen and pad again and listened carefully to their conversation.
The unicorn, miss Sparkle, had come to give Sin some kind of order from the Elder Matriarch. A sort of revolution going on or something that she needed Sin to do... something about? Silvia didn't care anymore, she was just enjoying a conversation she could over hear that was finally interesting. The griffin finished jotting down the notes and saw that Sin was packing up, and figured their conversation to be over.
That couldn't be farther from the truth, apparently Sparkle had more to say. However, it was more on a personal level and caught Silvia more on her own feminine side. Quick to deny to anyone who might straight out ask her, the Triple M. agent wasn't really interested in jotting down political plans or economically inclined encounters. Small and personal interactions like these were far more interesting for her.
Silvia's eyes widened upon hearing about how Sin had done battle with a monstrous dragon and understandably lost, her look of shock turning into a warm smile when she realized the concern the mare's voice held for him.
'Oh goddess, this is soooo cute'. She inwardly beamed, 'I wonder if there are feelings being exchanged.'
To her disappointment, Sin acted as cold and platonic as he always did. Paying little attention to Sparkle's words of worry.
'No you idiot! You're suppose to thank her for her concern!' She thought, turning the job into her own personal soap opera. As the conversation went on, the Equestrian invited the Federalist over for tea, apparently some one named "Spike" and he held a relation and wanted to speak with him.
Pressing her beak, the agent silently begged him to go. Not only wanting desperately to see what happened, but to go anywhere that didn't stick her in a tree all the time. Social interaction and moving around were two of her favorite things in life, along with eating good food and using sanitary restrooms.
Much to her relief Sin sighed and agreed to the meeting. The two didn't end on the best of terms, the mare mentioning someone named "Fluttershy" wanting to check in with him over his injuries.
Oh? Another mare? Well, this stallion may live in the woods, but he's getting all the ladies, isn't he? She'd have to introduce him to Malich, he really needed to get laid..
Malich slammed his head against his desk, the poorly lit room complimenting his depressing mindset. The reason for his current depression laid sprawled out on a scroll. Taking a breath, he continued reading.
The Admiral from the 1st fleet would be coming to visit soon, He didn't mind Chip, Chip was alright, but the Captain of Sigma III was who he worried about. While Malich hadn't met the Captain personally, but excellent was the last thing he'd call the ship commander's portfolio. Both were coming, and not only that but a team of no less than four Senatorial investigators would be joining them.
All of this he could handle, it wasn't the presence of these ponies and what ever else was coming that caused him grief. The Senate itself had threatened him. They blatantly told him, to his face no less, that if he refused an advanced inquary that he would be held in contempt of the chamber, and thus; the chamber dungeon.
Rubbing his temple, more problems began to enter his mind. The Judgement being the most prominent. He was lucky as hell he took the precautions he did, Malich couldn't believe it when he'd heard about the air ships destruction over Equestria.
Equestria, of all the fucking places it could fall, it had to fall there! He still remember being awoken in the middle of the night with the news and sped off to Canterlot to hold himself responsible, lest the princesses expose the incident to his own government. As much power as he held, he wasn't so foolish as to think they couldn't take it away from him. The ship entering the country's air space itself was an act of war, even if it was chasing down an anarchist pirate vessel.
The head of his relations department as well as his sky raiders didn't get off light for allowing the stunt.
As if that wasn't enough, he had his engineers and construction crews work overtime to finish the replica. Every dent, squeaky board, dulled wall paper and cracked tile was made exactly the same as the original and was now enrout back to Columbus. Hopefully, the griffin's wouldn't find anything that would expose the lie, but as sharp as the eagle eyes were, he had some on his side as well, and spent a full day of scrutinizing inspection; he could hold confidence in that at least.
And then there was Sin...
Malich sighed and looked blankly to the bottom drawer. Pressing his lips he pulled it open to reveal a simple bottle of whiskey, untouched and full of amber liquid. As he rotated the bottle in his hands, the swishing liquid helped ease his mind into a distant memory. The memory of the only promise the two had shared.
"Are you sure about this Sin? It doesn't really seem possible for the whole thing to collapse."
"Hard to imagine, i know, but the evidence and logic is there."
"I don't know," Malich said, his head shaking back and forth. "It just doesn't seem possible."
Sin smirked at him, his icy blue eyes reflecting the stallion skeptical look. "Trust me, if things continue the way they have been, it's only a matter of time."
"Well, what will we do when it happens? It'll be too dangerous to be around others."
The brown stallion's smirk grew. "I intend to see it unfold." Malich's eyes widened, he wasn't too savy on the subject at hand, but the repercussions of what the two were discussing would be terrible for all affected. Seeing the younger stallion's dismay, Sin offered his hoof, "Remember what we talked about when you were younger? How those who made bad decisions deserved to suffer for them?"
Malich nodded, of course he remembered, how could he forget? Sin had been his teacher in the philosophical arts ever since they were colts.
"Then make me a promise." Malich took a step back. A promise? Sin had never made a promise in his life, mainly because there was no guarantee he could follow through. What came next must be either a joke or really important. "Promise me that when it happens, we'll watch it happen, together..."
"And smile as they get what's coming to them." Malich finished with a small curve of the lip. He'd bought this particular bottle of whisky for just the occasion. Everything would be ready soon, his plans were coming together, and with the blue prints for the Judgement and a new weapons project that the original air ship's fall had inspired, there was no chance of interference.
The executive smirked and replaced the bottle to it's place.
Hard work and success were the way of his family. Triple M wasn't always known by that name, nor was it the dominant economic force it was today. His father, Gemini and his father's father, Mandylion worked hard to make the entity grow and expand. Well, Gemini more so.
When Triple M. started out, it was simply a small mining operation, lead by the patriarch of the time. Before his family, Mandylion held aspiration, drive and dedication. He left his abusive house hold at an early age and faced the world before he entered adulthood. He recounted stories of jumping from town to town, trying to earn enough money to pay his way. As time passed, the pony found himself less and less happy with his life around civilization and elected to try his hoof in the woods.
Using the money he was going to use for shelter one night, Mandylion purchased an old book on wilderness survival and wasted no money on rent or food, electing to save it to start up his own business. Once word had gotten out-
"Mr Malich?" The door to his office slowly opened, breaking him from his thoughts. "You have a visitor."
The stallion groaned, who could this be? "Send them in."
"Oh Malich~!" A sing song voice called.
The executive's eyes widened and his stomach dropped. The depression and helplessness he was feeling immediately dissolved to urgent panic and disgust.
'No, no, no, sweet earth all mighty, no.' The door burst open to reveal a very heavy set alabaster unicorn mare, her plump figure repulsed the stallion, no matter how many times he'd seen it it always made him want to look away. Her smile was the oblivious and blissful cheeky type. One that made him want to slap it right off her face. Her only redeeming quality was her mane, but that was due to her stylist, not her own volition.
"Good evening!" She beamed.and took a seat on one of the pillows in front of his desk.
Steeling himself, Malich sighed and forced a smile. "Good evening miss Fatchitaz. How may I help you tonight?"
Gloria Fatchitaz, the epitome of all he despised. Empty headed, rude, arrogant, disrespectful, and a flab that would make a hydra spit her out in disgust. Well, there was one other redeeming quality, one that Malich hated her for having: her fortune. Born to the richest business owner in all the Federation, this spoiled princes had a knack to cause some of the most horrible chain of events that the world had to offer. Yet SOME HOW always managed to walk away from the ordeals completely unscathed! How the fuck did that even happen?
"Hmmm? Oh yes." Oh and a little tendency that all Fatchitaz had, starting off their sentences with 'hmm's' to make themselves seem more thoughtful. "I was hoping you'd be able to attend a small garden party I was planning on holding in the Centaur Palace in three days. To reconcile the beginning of spring."
It took every last bit of will the executive had to resist slamming his hoof into his face. "A celebration for spring?" He questioned, playing dumb. Too late did he realized such an open ended question would bring forth a verbal assault the likes of which made him miss the Senate interrogation.
"Oh yes, Malich, it will be an herboligists paradise!..." And so it was that Gloria spoke. On and on... and on and ON about the festivity.
Waiting for the perfect moment to interject and wind down the conversation to a close and send the mare on her way quickly became hopless. The verbal senslessness just kept coming, one minute turned into three, then five, then ten. The words, they just didn't stop!
'I wonder how many hungry Zeborican villages I could feed with you.' Malich's thoughts wondered. Twenty? Thirty? For a week at least? Zebra's don't like to eat meat, but you're comprised of fat and FAT, so I think they'll be ok.'
'Huh? Fuckin' fat ass? I bet you'd probably stuff all the dragons in my mounted division, and there would still be left overs. Some how, that just didn't sound right.
"So, will you accept my proposal?" Lady Fatchitaz beamed, her eyes knowing and expectant.
"Huh? Oh, uh, yea. Sure, whatever?" Malich waved dismissively.
"Oh, I knew you would!"
The grey stallion quirked a brow, what ever he'd just agreed to, it made her nearly as excited as seeing a chocolate doughnut after five minutes of fasting. "Yes, yes, I accept, what ever. Now if you don't mind, I have things I need to do." Like figure out how the hell to get Sin to come back. Windmane's abduction didn't have the desired result, though, the oaken pony had demonstrated apathy on deeper levels; so it shouldn't have been that surprising.
"Oh Malich." Fatchitaz tisked. "I knew you couldn't resist me forever, but you'll always hold that strong front of yours. Very well, I'll see you on Thursday! Tah tah!" And with that, the jolly tub of jello finally made way for the exit. Thank Tapio, if he had to deal with her for longer than fifteen minutes, he wasn't sure what would happen.
Finally alone with his thoughts, the executive pulled out a parchment and began to scribble down the list of activities he currently juggled, listing each in priority. This usually calmed his nerves, his mind had a tendency to blow things up in proportion to what they really were, but the more things he jotted down, the more aware he became of the contrary.
He groaned and rubbed his temples, dwelling on the events that lead up to his current predicament. It was funny, how the placement of one little frigate could turn his life into a living hell like this. Even if it did manage to work out in his favor in some way, the negative implications were far from worth it.
Slapping the paper down and standing from his desk, Malich walked from his office and to his personal quarters. If he was going to be in a nightmare, he might as well get some sleep.