//------------------------------// // Chapter 15: Swarm Of the Century // Story: The Pony Lisa // by Hi World //------------------------------// >Rarity 1544 hours Spike was insistent that they take another route, however Rarity was even more insistent that they stick to this one. Her orders where to get to the engine room, and that’s exactly what she was going to do. Not for the first time, she wondered how Luna and her squad where doing, whether they were waiting in the shower block, ready to proceed to the Pelican, or if they were all already dead. The jumpsuit wearing Dragon had informed her that to get to the engine room, they’d have to go through D cell block. And to get to D cell block, they had to go through a cargo bay. Similar to the hanger, the cargo bay was full of crates, boxes and containers, only there was no Pelican to provide reassurance, and a more open area to move about and breathe. Not that breathing felt any good; everywhere in this ship stunk of something. “Gilda was the one who sprung me out,” Spike announced, breaking the silence. “There was a guard. Some Stallion called Braeburn. He was… he wasn’t… she took care of him. Saved me.” “Yeah, then he started whingin’ on about his lame-o “Dragon code,”” contributed Gilda distastefully, then mocked the Dragon. ““Oh Griffin, you saved my life! I owe you my life Griffin! It says so in the Dragon code, Griffin! It says! Dragon code, Dragon code, Dragon code!” That’s when I decided not to talk.” “You ignored me for that?!” Spike was flabbergasted. “Yah, it was annoying.” “But I would’ve done whatever you wanted me to do!” “Would you have shut up?” “Well… yeah.” “Huh. I sure wish I knew that sooner.” Spike folded his arms. “Ignorant much.” “Shut up Spike.” “No. You don’t deserve my services.” Rarity butted in, “Do I deserve your services, Spikey Wikey? We are sort of saving your life after all.” Queue the eye flutter. “Well… I guess so..." Bringing a claw up to his head to salute, he pronounced, "Spike at your service. What would you have your Dragon do, most beautiful one?” She wasn't too sure if he meant all these compliments he was bestowing upon her, since she was shrouded with blood and sewage and her tail was still tipped with Fleur De Lis’ puke. Maybe he was sweet talking to her like this so she would overlook whatever horrible thing he swore he hadn't done to get thrown in a Pony prison. Or maybe, just maybe, he did mean it. Nether the less, she humoured the diminutive Dragon. “Haha. Oh my, Spikey Wikey," she giggled. "How chivalrous.” “I’m here to assist.” “Would you…” she thought hard, trying to think of something he’d say no to, just for laughs. “... Would you jump into a crowd of Flood?” The green spined Dragon hesitated. “Really?” Another eye flutter made him blush, and he eventually said, “For you, yes. Anything. Er… you don’t actually want me to do that though, do you?” “Oh of course not, Spike. That would be most dreadful.” “Phew.” He wiped sweat from his forehead. Gilda re-joined the conversation. “Would you have done that for me?” “Yes, as a matter of fact I would have," Spike answered back sternly. "But you’re too late Gee. You should’ve taken advantage when you had the chance.” The Griffin growled, regretting declining Spike’s services. Rarity glanced back at Big Mac as they strode across the open floor, forgetting he was there. Forgetting what he did to Twilight and Fluttershy. Remembering why. A large, orange shipping container stood separate to the clutter of cargo at the right of the room. The doors had been beaten open, and dusky red blood stains splashed the floor and open end of the container. Rarity thought of it as a mouth that had spewed up not long ago, and hadn't been cleaned. There were a few splatterings of the oozy green Flood blood present as well, and three visable bodies. A Griffin that lay on top of the failed fortress; head and talons dangling over the entrance. A yellow Stallion who had dragged himself clear of the horror scene. And a Flood infected Pony, lying on it's back, half in, half out of the container. The Pony's hind quarters and rear legs had been melted and reformed into a hideous whip of a tail. Rarity spun her head to face away from the repulsion, her curly purple mane swishing with the sudden flash of movement. “They learn,” Spike stated distantly, almost startling Rarity. Rarity; “... Come again.” “The Flood. They take what you know... and learn.” Now what in the world could that mean? Another staircase bridged the deck and the platform above where they needed to be to reach D cell block, and as Rarity and her herd paced their way up it, a small bag of snot leapt down from the high ceiling and used its tentacles to propel its self at the Unicorn. “Whoa-” “Move over dweebs,” the great Griffin pushed Rarity back, hard. The impression of her talon gave her the goose bumps. “I got this.” And with that, the Griffin smacked the living tumour into oblivion with her cricket bat. Did a Griffin just… save me? Rarity began to gratify the Griffin. “Why thank you Gilda. You save-” “Yeah yeah, whatever. Quit babbling and whack these suckers. If you can, that is.” So much for gallantry. However, the Griffin was right; more of the infectors where raining down from above. As the blizzard of disease came bucketing down in the hundreds, Rarity and her squad opened fire. Luckily, these weren’t the ravenous mutants that had chased them through recycling. They were tiny, foul, pint-sized things. One shot, one kill. And they were everywhere, so it was impossible to miss, unless you were a purple Dragon named Spike, who could barely handle the power of Fluttershy’s MA5D. Don’t worry Fluttershy; the weapon that is your legacy will continue to fight the good fight. Poor Fluttershy. No time to dwell on that though; every time one pod popped, a dozen more claimed its place. Big Mac fired his Assault Rifle in bursts, clearly more suited to the BR85 that she had. Spike wasted a whole darn clip on three of the infection forms, then set about breathing scorching, vibrant green fire at the swarm of horrors as he reloaded. “Use controlled bursts Spike! You’re just shooting all over the place! Wahaa!” One came in close, and she caught it with her magic, got a good eye full of it as it's tentacles stretched eagerly at her face. Disgusted, she flung it back into the Flood. The screech of an Eagle echoed around the room as Gilda nose-dived with her formidable wings, swooped in over the sea of plague, and brushed her bat through about ten of the little goitres at once. Unbeknownst to Rarity, another parasite snuck up behind her, and leapt from the container it slithered around on. The rowdy Griffin scored a home run on that one, and Rarity could have sworn she looked a little gleeful. >Celestia 1559 hours Celestia found herself deep in the bowls of a Griffin star ship. Metallic purple walls glistened in the blue flames of destruction. Bloody drag marks lead away to heaps of rotting carcasses in the corners of every room and corridor. She levitated a captured Griffin’s energy sword before her. Stunning thing to look at. A double pronged blade, crafted entirely out of ionized plasma, plus the metal handle where her magic gripped. Slinking through a door that had been jammed open, she entered a large room full of sleek, purple crates, a couple of Ghost light reconnaissance vehicles, and a burning Wraith tank that dominated the artificial cavern. A voice, a whisper, an infernal scream, shot her heart rate straight up. Dark forms emerged from the Griffin architecture, tentacles slithering across the deck and equipment. Backing up, she screamed, slashing her sword in the air pathetically, charging up her horn to deliver a shockwave of devastation to the gibbering nightmares that closed in around her. Thump. Her back was against the hatch that had conveniently closed itself. A swift buck of her rear hoof did nothing. Turning to face the misshapen army of freaks - Luna was in her face. Wild appendages spewed from the sides of her head. Her once sweet face mutated into a jagged mountain ridge, one eye bloated, the other one dangling from a socket clogged with spongy green mass. Three grotesque limbs that didn’t belong on anypony, protruded from her sister’s right wrist, and thrashed Celestia across the face. In a flash and a cry of dread, everything was gone. Her surroundings, her enemies, her reanimated sister, all gone, replaced by the featureless room she previously debriefed her sister in, and the holographic Discord hovering before her with his arms folded. As she lay on her tummy, shivering with steady streams breaking through her tightly shut eyes, Discord gave her a low down. “As you can see, Celestia, sending another squad into that kind of mess would be foolish.” “Discord…” she squeaked, barely audible, had never been reduced to such a state before. “I don’t want my sister in there… I don’t want this to happen to her, or my subjects… I want her out of there, Discord.” “Aaww, I suppose I can see you wanting that.” The Draconequus lifted her chin, red pupils and yellow whites gazing sorrowfully into her eyes. “But don’t worry... I’ll keep you company.” “No!” She shouted, rising to her hooves and pushing Discord's Lion paw away. “I will not let my sister become absorbed by this Flood.” Celestia leaned in for what she was about to say. “You knew about this all along, didn’t you,” she accused the AI, who snaked back and stroked his goat beard with a smirk. “Ever since day one you’ve been keeping secrets. You had your own orders. Who did they come from, Discord?” Cheerfully, Discord replied, "Oh Celestia. You and your wild accusations. You crack me up." Cracks had reached all the way up Discord's body, and when he stopped talking, he crumbled. Speaking to the pile of Discord hued rubble, she grated, "Do not take me for a fool, Discord. We have both been hiding secrets from my subjects, and my sister. Why must we be so secretive, Discord? What do you know that I don't? Who have your orders come from?" Discord leaped through the surface of his terminal like a Whale getting some air, a splash as he did so, and swallowed his own rubble in the process. Standing normally on the projector, it was his turn to lean in. Celestia held her position. “If you must know, my orders came from PONI, and-” “-PONI? I should have known.” “Yes, you should’ve, now don’t interrupt. It’s very rude.” “If I can’t send in a squad to rescue my sister, then I have no choice but to rescue her myself.” Trotting to the door, she came up short upon Discord’s disapproval. “Ah ah aah. We can’t do that, Celestia.” “You can’t, but I can.” Discord snapped his fingers. Uh oh. “Oh Celestia. Your blind impulse charms me so,” he began, dragging her back by her long rippling tail like a tractor beam, and nuzzled his chaotic face against hers. “But there’s a lot you need to know, oh Princess of the sun.” Pushing herself away from the Draconequus didn’t stop him from droning on. “Rule number one; no back up, and no survivors.” “No... survivors?” “Rule number two; the Flood must not reach any colonies. For if it should; the universe will be doomed. Doomed to a fate of pain and misery and boring stuff like that,” he yapped, spinning his wrist twice before holding his palm out. "You just said "no survivors." What position does that put my sister in?” “She won’t make it. Nopony will. Nopony other than the two PONI personnel that are on board that ship. It's rule number three.” So my sister is pretty much KIA? Great. Celestia did a better job of hiding her melancholy this time, and proceeded to fish for information that would hopefully paint a brighter picture for her sister. “And just who is on that ship?” She demanded from the AI. “Well, let’s see. There’s Luna, Rarity, Zecora, Rainbow Dash, Twilight, Big Mac-” “-Who, on that ship, is with PONI?!” “Well, if you must know, there is a Major Lulamoon on board, running the project. There is also a Pony in your sister’s squad, who has been ordered by yours truly to clean up any "little messes" at the end of the op.” Celestia sighed. Her sister and her subjects really were as good as dead. A lump formed in her throat and her gut tied in a knot. She had never felt more guilty, more useless, more of a let-down than she did right then. Discord continued matter of factly, “If the Flood were to reach one of the colonies, it would be overrun within a matter of days. More food for the Flood. More knowledge of where to find food. Sending reinforcements would only increase the Flood’s chances of winning." He took a quick pause and gazed out of the window at Threshold, Basis, and Halo's debris. "They learn. They take what you know... and learn." He waited for a response from her, and when it never came, he listed, "Use guns, drive vehicles, manoeuvre ships. Everything their hosts know, they just... learn.” Dreading the thought of such a thing, Celestia hung her head in shame. My sister must really hate me right now. “Oh well. Better the loss of one familiar face, than the loss of the billions that is the Pony race,” Discord rhymed, not caring. “I hate you,” Celestia spat with her spirits at an all time low. “Yes." Sniff. "I hate you too, amicum.” The AI wept false tears and pulled her in for a suffocating hug.