//------------------------------// // Weight to Bear // Story: Innavedr // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// The skull was cold and brittle in his grasp, and yet as firmly as Shell clutched it between two hooves, he made sure it did not break. He turned and pivoted the thing about in the manalight of the sequencing room, his one eye narrowing. At last, he found himself staring—more like being absorbed—into the dark hollow set within the center of the equine skull. Several seconds passed, during which the Prime Enforcer breathed calmly. He heard hoofsteps clanking over the debris-riddled floor. With a twitch of the eye, he sat up straight, placing the hoof down beside the rest of the mangled pegasus skeleton. He leaned against the table full of scattered notes, journals, and logs next to him. Through the brightly-lit junction room, Evans and two other enforcers led the disheveled figure of a mare at taser-point. Nightshade's mane was a frazzled mess, and most of it hung like a mat over her bruised forehead. Her gown was in tatters, and she trotted with a limp barely afforded her by the metal binds on both her front and rear limbs. Feeling a prod from Evans, Nightshade shuffled to a stop just two meters from Shell. "Tilt your face up," he said. "Look at the Prime Enforcer when he's speaks to you." Nigthshade stood still in silence. Evans fidgeted. He glanced at Shell, then back at Nightshade. With a growl, he lifted his taser to strike, "I said—" "That'll be all, Evans," Shell said. He calmly waved a hoof. "Leave us." Evans did a double-take. His lips pursed, but he said nothing. He took one glance at the ancient pegasus bones, shuddered, and motioned towards the other two guards. The three trotted firmly out of the circular room, leaving Shell and Nightshade alone with the seats that several tattooed foals once filled. The silence that followed was horrendous. And yet, as much as Nightshade struggled to keep her composure, the only sound she could hear was her own labored breaths. No sound came from Shell whatsoever, as if he was one with the cold steel bulkheads of the place. At last, Shell stood up from the table and shuffled a few steps over. His injured forelimb was in a wooden splint, but it did little to hide what had to have been a permanent limp at this point. "I just finished reading a fraction of the volumes that were found in the offices here. It's all rather fascinating: a machine world, an otherwordly flame, a race of flying ponies entrusted with a power outside this continent's domain. I'd be surprised... if only I didn't know about it all already. What differs between you and me is that I didn't sacrifice this Confederacy's security in the acquisition of such information. But you... a marketeer, a veritable accountant trying to bear the fangs of a wolf? You've certainly done your due diligence for coin and country. Tell me, how will you balance the payroll now that so many of your trusted employees have perished in their unswerving devotion to your insufferable name?" "I refuse to answer any and all questions asked of me. And I will refuse to make any statements," Nightshade muttered, her face fixed to the floor. "Until I have been appointed a solicitor in these proceedings, as granted to me and every citizen by the Council of Ledo—" With a clatter, a pegasus skeleton rolled to a stop beneath her gaze. Before she could blink, Shell's good hoof fell over it, smashing the thing to calcified bits with a sickening crack. Nightshade's mouth hung open. She looked up, trembling with a vulnerable expression. Shell leaned in, his good eye calm as a thundercloud. "A corpse's only right is to be buried with a stone, with I have yet to decide whether or not I shall gracefully provide." His gaze narrowed. "You sacrificed any and all rights of citizenship the very moment you betrayed the privileges granted you, by committing acts of treason beneath the nose of the Council of Ledo." Nightshade merely frowned. "You imprisoned innocent ponies against their will, ensnared non-equines for the purpose of torture and experimentation, and seized the property of countless pilots for the sake of transporting illicit materials towards an active battleground." At last, Nightshade snarled," Name one of those things that you in all of your infinite grace hasn't already done." "My grace has nothing to do with it," Shell coolly responded. "I function by the pardon of the Council of Ledo." "I know for a fact that the Council would never condone the things that you have done," Nightshade grumbled. "They would not sanction the collateral damage that has been caused to Blue Nova... the unwarranted seizure you have committed against my Corporation and its members—" "When the very security of the Confederacy is at stake?" Shell raised an eyebrow. "When the one hope we have of defeating our immortal enemy rears its golden head? You're right to believe that I have... sacrificed my personal code of ethics to get the task done, so long as it is a righteous task." "Only a narrow-minded machine would think in such linear fashion." "And only a self-destructive psychopath would think in many." He reached a hoof up, pulling her violet bangs to the side. His eye reflected the stub of her horn. "Hmmm. Just as I thought. Tell me, if you're so quick to mutilate yourself, is there any flesh and blood—personal or otherwise—that you would not exploit to accomplish what you think to be the final solution?" Nightshade bit her lip. She gazed towards the seats in the center of the room. Shell gazed at her. He let go of her hair and began pacing over the shattered pegasus skeletons across the room. "For far too long have I walked over the dust and charred flesh of my fallen comrades, powerless to do anything about it. And then I was given a chance to make something good of the tools and talents I still have available to me. With one experiment, in one fell swoop, I could turn this war over on its head. I could bring an end to the misery, and Ledomare could enjoy a glory it hasn't experienced in nearly five hundred years." "This war will never end," Nightshade muttered. "Not so long as there are bloodlusting wretches like you at the helm." Shell turned and gestured towards the wrecked room around them. "And yet, you could somehow bring an end to the conflict?" "A change, yes." "By wielding ruby flame in such a way that you could cancel out all mana and reinvent the technology of our culture with steam?" Upon Nightshade's surprised glance, Shell waved and trotted over. "Oh, I've read your schematics... your awe-inspiring plan for a 'new tomorrow.' You wouldn't live to see it, of course, but the 'future generations' of Blue Nova beloveds would be the ones to pioneer your utopian dream. It's rather idyllic, don't you think? There's only one problem..." He stopped a cold inch or two before her and slurred, "You cannot build dreams without bloodshed, and right now you're wide awake and drowning in it." He slowly shook his head. "Did you not once think about this? Did it never ever once cross your feeble, sheltered mind?" "I had every eventuality planned for," Nightshade grunted. "I had prepared for every situation! For Xonan incursion! For interference from the Council!" "But..." Shell leaned back against the table across from her. "...what of the unthinkable? The winged or golden or sequencing unthinkable?" Nightshade shivered, avoiding his gaze. Shell's eye narrowed. "I've met her before, you know. Doctor Bellesmith, I mean. She's in league with this nation's most dangerous enemy. And yet, after what she's evidently taken from you, after how she outright crippled your entire empire, I'm starting to believe that she is the true nemesis after all. You met her. You thought you could control her. And, in the end, despite all of your efforts, she's left you lame and powerless. What's more..." His jawlines grew harder. "...by robbing you, she's robbed me of what I need most right now." "If you think I'm going to help you at all..." Nightshade growled. "If you think I'm going to tell you anything about the flame or Old World—" "In time, Ms. Nightshade, you will tell me what I need to know. That will be a time when you'll find yourself having to decide what you like preserving more: your knowledge... or your skin." The mare was dead silent, her pupils shrinking. "However..." Shell paced towards her again. "That is not this time." He shuffled until he stood behind her. His voice touched her ears like snake's breath. "This time... right now... I want to know where she took the ruby flame. If I have that—and if I have her—then I can bring my search to a halt, and maybe we won't quite have so many conversations in the future like we are having now." "I don't know where she went..." "Don't you?" Shell pivoted to face her. "You know, in all of my career, with all of the sacrifices that I have had to make for this country..." He paused, then punctuated the air with a scrape of his hooves across the metal floor. "Never once did I stoop so low as to touch the bodies of children... much less mutilating them." Nightshade's shivers intensified. She gulped and said, "They were lost vagabonds. I saved them. I helped them—" "And they have the rest of their lives stripped of magic, thanks to your 'loving embrace.'" Shell trotted firmly around so that he frowned at her again. "Xonan or not, I cannot and shall not stand for the utter descecration of foalhood. It takes a great deal of guile to be a torturer, but even more courage to be a parent, and I'm afraid, Ms. Nightshade, that you do not have the stomach for either, so you should be eternally grateful for the fact that I have not gutted your abdomen upon the very first second you graced me with your putrid sight." He pointed viciously at her. "Now in all of my searches, I have found descriptions of a nefariously secret place named Deep Ridge. It is where the parents of these foals are located. I have all the information I could desire about it, except for one thing: the location, which is suspiciously missing." "Why would you care to know about such a place?" "Because I have every reason to believe that Dr. Bellesmith is headed there with the red flame. The one thing she and I have in common over you is that we actually think about the consequences of our actions." He hissed, "And you're going to tell me where this 'Deep Ridge' place, Ms. Nightshade, or I promise you... there will be consequences." Nightshade looked at Shell. Shell gazed back at her, silent, waiting. She swallowed. She took a deep breath. "The red flame will not be yours." She turned her nose up. "I know a thing or two about Dr. Bellesmith too, Prime Enforcer, more than you know, as a matter of fact. I've shared my mind with hers, and I know—though she has robbed me blind and ruined all my dreams—I know... that you can be trusted only as far as you can toss the corpses made by your blind crusade. And I refuse to make any more of them." He answered far more swiftly than she had expected. "Do you, now?" She gawked at him. His horn glowed. A taser slid out of his satchel. Her eyes flew towards it. She gritted her teeth. With a whistle of air, he swung the bludgeon. She flinched... but did not feel the sting of electrocution. Instead, Nightshade's ears twitched from the sound of ringing metal. Shell was rhythmically knocking the bulkhead beside him. After a few seconds, the sound was anwered. Hoofsteps arose from the Junctioning room adjacent to the sequencing chamber. After a clamor of limbs, two stallions in binds were tossed down onto the ground between Shell and Nightshade. "Ooof!" Sir Ordo winced, his clothes reduced to tattered rags. "Unngh!" Overseer hissed in pain, his body covered from head to hoof in deep whelts and bruises. He looked up at Nightshade, his face awash with tears. He instantly gasped. "Milady!" "Madame Nightshade! Th-they got you too!" Ordo stammered. "I'm so sorry! I don't know who talked! I promise that—" Shell kicked the stallion hard in the kidneys. Ordo doubled over, wheezing in pain, while Shell paced around them. "Stop it!" Nightshade shrieked. The two guards who had marched in held her telekinetically in place. "Don't hurt them anymore—" "You are sadly mistaken, Ms. Nightshade," Shell coolly said, turning towards her. "I am not the one bringing them pain. You brought this upon them, just as you brought this upon every stallion and mare in your employ. The moment you decided to construct this conspiratorial plot to subvert the war effort, you signed your fates. The question I have is... did you prepare for it? Did you prepare for the consequences of your actions?" "I... I—I—" "It takes more than intelligence and charisma to lead an army to victory, Nightshade. And call it what you want, but that's what you have here: an army, as shadowed as it is duplicitous. A true leader knows when to get her hooves dirty, much like a parent. Raise your children right, and they'll be prosperous. Raise them irresponsibly, and they fall to ruin. Well, you're about to witness how much an instrument you are of your own ruination, Madame. You're about to answer for the fate of your corporation... for your children..." "I don't understand!" she stammered. "What—" She flinched with a stifled shriek. Shell was aiming the barrel of a pistol straight into her face. He droned, "I have it within my power execute all ponies deamed traitorous by the Council of Ledo. But, as I do believe we have just illustrated, the responsibility now falls to you. So, in this... learning exercise, I am going to hoof the choice over to you." "The... ch-choice...?" Nightshade blinked. A weight fell from her forelimbs as Shell telekinetically undid the bonds. She gasped as the gun was twirled around and levitated into her hooves. Shell was suddenly standing behind her, forcing her to stand, bracing her weight up against him as she pivoted her towards the two stallions. "A choice... much like a bullet..." He spoke as he held her from behind. "...is something that only comes once. And I have given you a choice to make here, Ms. Nightshade, much like I have given you one bullet. On the count of three, you're going to end one of these stallions' lives." Ordo and Fatch twitched with frightful spasms, their eyes wide and horrified. Nightshade choked, "You monster... you c-can't possibly expect me to—" Shell gripped her tighter. "I may have given you one bullet, but I have given each of my soldiers throughout this building a hundred. Now, tell me, how many employees are still being held here?" Nightshade's mouth hung open as her heart beat through her chest. Shell leaned in, his voice cold and steely in her ear. "Do you feel it now? The weight of consequences? Your dreams have crumbled. Only now are you about to smell the blood that you have sown. However..." He swallowed and spoke even more quietly, "I can lift all of that weight from you... that weight that you never prepared yourself for... if you just tell me what I need to know. If you just tell me where Deep Ridge is. The rest we can work out later." Nightshade's eyes glossed over. She stood still and pale, and yet even still... she shook her head, stifling back a whimper. The stallions looked at her in disbelif. Shell took a deep breath. He stood back, standing behind Nightshade, holding her shoulders in place with an aura of telekinesis. "One..." He counted. "Milady," Ordo whimpered. "Please... pl-please tell him!" "It's not worth th-this!" Fatch stammered. "My family... I-I still have to provide for my beloved and our children!" "After all I-I've done for you!" "Two..." Shell's voice hissed. Nightshade bit her lip. Tears flowed down her once-majestic face. With a squeaking sound, she raised the gun, tilted it, and pivoted it towards Overseer Fatch. Ordo exhaled in cold relief. Fatch was full of shivers and gasps. "M-Madame...!" "...Three." Nightshade sniffled, then whispered, "I-I'm so sorry, Overseer..." She shook. She shuddered. She pulled the trigger. Fatch flinched. The gun clicked. Ordo did a double-take. Slowly, Fatch's sobbing body slouched down against the metal. Nightshade's wide eyes reflected the gun. She tilted it towards the ground and pulled the trigger a few more times. Once more, a rhythmic clicking filled the air. With a ghostly silent shuffle, Shell walked over. He brushed his muzzle against her earlobe as he whispered, "You... are not ready for the weight." The Prime Enforcer pulled out another pistol. He cocked it, spun, and fired two shots ahead of them. The room thundered once... twice. The noise was followed by a pair of wet thumps. Nightshade fell back on her haunches, breathless. A warm spray of blood dribbled down her wide-eyed face. The empty gun fell from her spasming hooves as she rocked back and forth with dry heaves. Slowly, Shell's face swiveled back to face her. A drop or two of blood leaked off his horn as he looked the mare in the eyes, deadpan. "Don't you have a brother?" Nightshade's face jerked towards him. A tear ran down the only dry part left on her cheek.