//------------------------------// // 3 - En Route // Story: Half-Life : A World Beyond // by Random Gamer //------------------------------// Without a single word, she kept walking through the sector with the former City Hall and I assumed following her would be a smart move. The CPs paid little to no attention to us and the cameras were only present on the gates separating this part of the town from the others. For the first time, I also saw propagantistic posters which featured Civil Protection units in a line with the words 'Join the greater good' underneath. Nearby, one could also see a poster for Luna's Personal Reserve, the one and only brand of water, and numerous graffiti drawn by the Rebellion. The most noticeable one was a mare in a distinctive gas mask holding what looked like a mechanically altered filly. Truly, this town was full of disturbing and questionable sights. "See the two CPs, one on the right, one on the left?" she stopped, giving me a question. "The right one looks tired, probably his first shift. I'll take him down, you stay here." I nodded silently before giving her an answer. "Yeah, I do." I said. "Ehm... Good luck, I guess." Trixie didn't look back at me, signalling my speech annoyed her, even though she didn't command me to remain silent. After a few seconds worth of walking, she approached the tired CP and softly poked him, awakening him from his daydream and putting him back in the gruesome reality. If this was the best forces the Combine had, then they didn't seem like a threat at all. "Huh?" he jumped a bit, shakily trying to concentrate. "T-this is your first warning, back away now!" uttered the CP after finally looking at Trixie, causing her to back away slightly. He took out some sort of stick, pressed a button on it and caused it to power up and crackle with electricity. "I would like to know why none of my rations were delivered nor reported as missing." The CP unit stood silently for a few seconds and then holstered his weapon. "Do you want us to starve?" He turned on his built-in radio in a shaking movement and spoke hoarsely into it. "Civil Protection, Sector 1 has ration shortage, additional amount requested." he said, clutching his weapon, as if worrying that Trixie would attack him. "Also requires replacement patrol unit. Yes, take the pricing from my pay, I just need a place to lay my head down to." He yawned loudly and shortly after, the second patrolling unit arrived at his position. They looked all the same, yet held differing ranks. "Unit offering assistance." said the other unit. "Orders?" "Going on invidiual short break. Fortify the sector." The unit nodded and let his inferior to have some rest. "Understood." The CP unit took out a submachine gun and aimed at Trixie. Meanwhile, the tired unit went inside the only outpost in the sector and presumably laid on one of the beds. They were rock hard, but hey, at least they weren't as cold as the ground. "Class 4 Anti-Citizen. Only by luck were you spared of an armed escort to Novum Prospectu." His voice was much more heavily modified than any other unit I heard so far and this, was probably because of a much higher rank. It was hard to say which one, but he acted much like someone who controls a bunch of units and that could be any rank from captian to general. "She´s with me." I proclaimed. "Keep your hooves off her." He looked at me with a slight sigh and turned on his built-in radio. "Class 1 Anti-Citizen. Multiple mine escape attempts." he muttered into the radio. "Civil Protection, I have positive report of an unofficial couple, requesting lowering of rations to a quarter. IDs 8889-Epsilon Yota Gamma and 6578 - Epsilon Tau Beta" He then turned the radio off and gave us a slight giggle. "That's what you get for lying to the Combine. Enjoy your fair share of rations." "We're not a couple." I said. "We're just friends." He gave off a giggle once more and then turned the safety off his gun, taking aim at us. "Minor delusional attempt." replied the CP coldly. "Presecution not neccesary." Looks like friendship was an unknown thing to those stupid Combine. They though it was either nothing or a couple, with nothing in between. Very laughable actually, but not funny at all. "Shut up!" said Trixie. "Minor Anti-Civil activity in this community." he replied in the same cold manner like he did before. "Starting armed escort and separation." In the meantime, the tired CP unit left the outpost and arrived back at his post. "It'll take it from here." He said in a relaxed tone. "If you don't mind." He moved fluidly, almost in a mare-esque manner, probably due to his feminine attitude. I wouldn't be suprised at all if drugs were taken daily and by all. No one can stay awake forever, they aren't machines. "Negative." he turned the safety on and put his weapon into a holster. "Those two are mine." "Legate, I believe this to be settled long before their arrival and further evidenced by your more than devious death-per-beating ratio." The so-called Legate turned to us. "For the sake of non-violent prosecution, I will escort them myself." "This is your first and final warning." The legate said coldly in a bossy manner. "Citizens, immediately return back to your homes." "Settlement required." Said the other CP unit. I had no idea what was going on but I assume whoever killed or beaten more pones had a higher rank, as if that really meant something in this wasteland. I would, however, be very suprised if something like that was the reason a fight would broke out between them. On the other hand, it would be really amusing to watch. "Granted." Said the other CP unit and both of them went inside the outpost. "Well, now what?" I asked Trixie. "What are we supposed to do now?" Trixie smiled at me and took a look at the clock above the outpost. "Now we wait." She said, still gazing the clock, listening to every single click. "For what?" "Four days ago I hacked their schedules and placed veteran CPs with newbies. In other words, a little game of highlander." Highlander? I hope she doesn't mean the questionable play in which two immortals had to behead each other with a sword. It had a nice catchphrase, though. 'There can be only one!' could be a way to live one's life, albeit in a very hostile and alien manner. "I... I don´t get it. Two CPs fight, one of them kills the other but then what?" I asked, curious if her plan didn't have any loopholes in it. "Won´t that make us still us Anti-Citizens and get arrested anyway?" The least painful thing that could happen was to be punished in the same way as Trixie, such as getting shaved. The worst, most painful way would be getting sent to Novum Prospectu and going through Celestia-knows-what. "Nope." she replied, sure of herself. "The winner will send a signal for a clean-up crew and that´s where we come in. Cleanup crews don´t wear any clothing and it usually takes two days for a group of pones to be officialy recognized as one. In other words, we'll pretend we got new jobs as a cleanup crew." Cleanup crews? I though the blood and bodies were left to decay and stink, reminding everyone to live by the rules and don't question or break them. Well, at least the Combine have a sense for cleanness. "I still think this is a way too complicated plan." I remarked, hoping she would come up with another on,e but instead, she just looked at me, eyebrows raised and approached the transparent blue wall which served as the entrance. It became more transparent for a short while and both us went inside, since staying outside would be really pointless. Suddenly, a loud static was heard and the transmitter inside the outpost started broadcasting a message. "Dispatch... cleaning crew... Sector 1.... Outpost 1...." Between every pause was a gasping for breath and after we went further into the outpost to investigate, we found two, motionless bodies. Trixie was right, both of them fought for the privilege of being able to either punish us or just escort us back to our respective homes. Both of them appeared to have gun wounds that looked fatal but she checked their pulses, just to be sure. "This one's still alive." said Trixie, kneeling over the dying CP. I removed his mask and saw his beaten and disfigured face, the only thing untouched being his eyes. He was crying, the tears from his green eyes falling down the remains of his face's dark green coat. "I... killed.... the Legate." he said slowly, gasping for air. "We know." said Trixie, showing deep sorrow for the dying unit. It was one thing killing them from a distance, knowing they are emotion-less monsters, but this one was different. Even though I knew he would have harmed us if we stayed longer in the Sector, I felt sorry for the him as doctor and as pony. Unfortunately, his wounds were way beyond my skills and even with the proper equipment, he wouldn't have make it. Ruptured lungs and internals are something I can only do in the clinic, with a severe dose of anaesthetics, stitches and morphium. Nevertheless, I still tried to at least help him with his final monets and stopped the bleeding with a piece of cloth I grabbed from the Legate's armor. "Do... what... must... be done." He stared at me for a few more seconds and then he was gone, drifting into the land of the dead, a world without pain or fear. Trixie gave him the last rites and closed his eyelids, saying farewell. She then stood up and motioned me to do the same, but I couldn't and instead, stared at the dead CP, frozen in place. "He... he was one of us." she said. "He sacrificed himself to give us a bigger chance and bought us some time." I ignored her words and kept staring at the deceased undercover resistance member. Trixie placed her hoove around my shoulder, wanting me to get over it and continue with our mission. "I know seeing this is hard for you, but we have to keep moving." She said sadly. "The more time we lose, the more ponies will die." I sobbe, stood up without a word and looted him, taking his clothing and putting on his mask. To achieve a believeable disguise, I also had to use duct tape to cover the holes left by the pistol and submachine gun. Trixie did the same with the Legate's armor, yet done it much quicker than I did. "I hope it will get easier from here." I said anxiosly. "Please tell it will" If I'm going to see dead rebels all the time, I want to at least be prepared for it, one way or another. "I wish I could, but we only got our disguises." she replied "We aren't even close to the train tracks nor the canals." I shook my head, wanting all of this to end. Before I could lament my fate as a doctor who couldn't help anyone, Trixie turned on her radio. "Purged rebellion at Outpost 1, Sector 1." she transmitted "Quickly dispatch a chemical cleaning unit." After finishing the transmission, she turned off the radio and to lower my worries, gave me a friendly hug. Incidentally, I returned it, knowing that it's probably gonna be the last one I'm ever gonna recieve. "Now we can move relatively freely in the city but," She said. " I still have no idea on how to get past Outpost 23, or in other words, the place where all trains stop." According to Trixie, there were many, many outposts in the city, yet none of them looked or had the same things in them. Very odd, considering that many appeared to be just forcelly lined up. "And what's so special about that?" I asked, curious as to why should one outpost hinder our progress. "That's the only outpost with direct access to the canals. All other ways are either fortified by soldiers or filled with all sorts of junk and rubbish." she explained. "It's a tough one, though." We didn't bothing thinking about whether or not it was possibly and simple made our way to Outpost 17, using our fake identities to their fullest. It was lit by the same lights as on the streets and had transparent blue walls on both ends. Unfortunately, both ends were heavily populated by CPs and and so, our chances of getting past were rather... slim. Trixie peeked out of the entrance to the outpost and took out her submachine gun, turning off the safety. I too, took out a weapon, knowing that whatever she does, she needs me as well. For one reason or another, I had a feeling this would no longer be a dress up party, but a hellish shooting range with moving targets, ducks, bad cover and whatnot. Little to no erros would be tolerated in that situation and to secure a better aim, I gripped my pistols tigher waited for Trixie's commands.