//------------------------------// // We can (hopefully) work it out // Story: Mercs on a Mission // by Gairenard //------------------------------// Chapter 13-We can (hopefully) work it out. The cavern was almost dead in silence. The only noises being a dispenser, softly humming away, not caring about anything. And the other being Heavy's breathing. Rifleman was having a discussion with Saura in the dream world, something that both agree should have happened much sooner. The pair of them sat in a great dining hall at an equally impressive dining table. The hall was over thirty feet tall, and almost just as wide. Everything was made of a light blue crystal. The walls had crystal architecture and design with great arches and large crystal columns. The floor was made of the blue crystal and not one bump, chip, or unglamorous spot could be found on the royal floor. On this floor was a carpet between it and the table, colored in black, red and purple diamonds. The table was almost as long as the hall, and made of crystal as well. It rested above the carpet rug and seemed to be made out of solid blue crystal. Once again, if you were to examine every inch of the crystal with extensive care and attention, you would find the structure flat, smoother than silk, and glossy as a pool of pure water reflecting the moonlight. It was that very light, full and bright in the glimmering sky, that was being shown on the table. The plates, silverware, and chalets on the table were silver and polished to perfection, reflecting the light almost as well as the table. The pair of blood lusters sat in the center of the table, not off to the left or right, but in the middle of the table. A hand held a chalice filled with whatever liquid he desired, in his preference, the drink was orange soda. Just across the table a unicorn swiveled her cup filled with crystal wine. The purple aura emitted from the horn in a soft glow and the lip of the cup came to another pair of lips and Saura took a silent sip. The man had his legs propped up on the crystal, and the large boots projected the power of every step that the person made. "We will kill each other if this keeps up, and we both know that compatibility issues are not part of the problem." Saura swallowed a sip of the drink. “I am very aware of that. But you must understand that for the past few hundred years it was the only life I knew.” Rifleman raised his eyebrow. “Thats all you’ve been doing? Possessing ponies to do your bidding?” The cup tilted back and forth in a fiddling motion. “Well, its more brainwashing really, ponies can be fooled to take me off, I’m more like an evil voice in somepony’s head. Besides, causing pain and agony to others is all that daddy Sombra taught me. Working with someone else is not something I’m familiar with.” “Well then you and I need to come to a simple agreement. You stop trying to control me, I stop dunking you in vintage Australian urine, and we both work together as a magical force of death everywhere we go. Deal?” He raised his glass. “Deal.” She raised hers and they clinked cups together. As the pair of them drank their respective drinks. In a swift motion the hollow cups came down on the table, echoing the sound around the room. The man tilted his glass upside down, and a book of encyclopedia size fell out of the glass onto the hardy crystal table. He picked it up, observing the wear of such a book with old age, and opened it for personal examination. “We will need to do some more magical training if we want to paint Fort Rocker red tomorrow. Medic even has some weapon equipment to test.” He glanced up at Saura, who was holding his Ak-47. She caressed the gun in her hooves, like a loved one resting against the partner. “We have a whole night ahead of us. Learning the ways of magic is mostly channeled into the mind. Tonight I shall teach you what I can, but only til tomorrow will you truly be able to attempt what you will learn.” “You seem to like my gun.” “I love it. It is the deadliest contraption that I have ever seen.” “She is one of the best killers invented.” “For my sake I will call it a he. So he is one the best killers invented.” Rifleman’s expression towards this spoke in the silent words, ‘really?’ “I will hug him, and squeeze him, and call him George!” She tightly held the weapon in her adorable grasp, but its owner was not amused in the slightest. “Alright, we only have so much night and if we sleep in Soldier will make us regret it.” Saura only squeezed tighter in defiance. There was a sound of repeated thunder and flashing light. The jump scare caused the mare to fall backwards in the chair and on the floor. The sound had disappeared only when she let it go. Her ears rang like high bells from having the barrel so close to her ear. In a daze she tried to stand up, but to only stumble into a crystal support beam. Slowly, a new sound could be heard through the echo of gunfire. It was loud at first, then it got quiet, then loud again. It was the sound of a human roaring in laughter so much, that he was running out of breath despite efforts to inhale. In a flash she stood face to face with her new student by standing on the tale. He stared at him until he stopped…. … “Are you finished?” “Ahhhh, yes.” “Good, I now have the next five hours to decide how I will get you back for that while we train.” -Galloping Gorge: Fort Rocker- Fort Rocker is one of the largest Forts in Equestria. With its size and rectangular shape borderlining a short football stadium. It's bulk was enforced by thick stone walls and a generous crew. Having been built in the gorge there wasn't much inside that wasn't made of stone or rock. Having investigated the remains of Fort Juniper, Clue and two others traveled to Rocker for a better understanding of how the small villages ran. Clue was in the underground mess room, with the cobble walls reflecting the lively idle chatter of the occupants. The appearance of any underground fort interior is almost identical in layout, the only major differences being the materials at hoof in the area, the standard setup being wood and cobblestone. The ceiling is only a mere 9ft high, large enough for some minor flying room overhead. The ceiling was the floor to the world above and, in this case, large stone support beams kept everything from collapsing. The chasms dug deep into the earth were humble as if it were a house built under the ground. The ancients who built these forts intended the occupants to live comfortably under the surface for long periods of time. Clue made mental notes in his head. There wasn’t anything out of the major ordinary, but his pony gut told him something was amiss, something noteworthy perhaps, something helpful. He began to trot through the mess hall and downward some stairs into the cell room. Reserved for war prisoners. The stairs were narrow and moisture from the surrounding ground had seeped through the walls from a recent rain. The torches were kept lit as part of safety, but as the free floating dust indicated, nopony visited the site often. "In fact," he thought "I'm willing to bet that they just have a unicorn light the room with magic so they don't have to go too far in." Not one sought to wander down there, as the location brings unsettling thoughts to the mind. Torture would have also taken place here, and Clue felt these odd emotions flowing through him as one griffon skellington sat off to the side at the bottom of the stairway, as if to greet any visitors. “Awgh, couldn't they have removed this?” Clue stepped carefully around the dead, and saw the dim image of the hanging cages, cells, and wall snackles. He was here more out of curiosity than pure reason, but there was plenty reasons why he should leave. A older guard recommended that there might be some remains of ancient writings of prison documents that haven't been gone through yet. That was the one thing that made him stay in the room he walked into. Toward the back, there was a door. A small, unassuming door. He slowly trotted past the cells, one by one. His hooves echoed across the area, and the mere sound waves jolted dust from untouched stone. It wasn't the first creepy place he had been to. He was slightly used to the foreboding atmosphere that areas like these present themselves. Torches lined the walls and casted shadows of the ominous decor. At last, he reached the door. Old and rotting. Clue placed his hoof on it, and pushed forward. The sight was slightly disappointing but not unexpected. Whatever room that was beyond the door had collapsed and left a wall of rubble behind it. The only trace of its existence being half of a bookshelf partly crushed. "A shelf with books! A possible insight into what this place was." There were only three old tomes left on the piece of broken furniture. Picking up one at random, he opened the ancient document. The text was old but legible. However only a historian would know what the expired language said. As the pages were flipped there were diagrams on the pages, some of them Clue recognized as summoning circles. Others were more obscure. "Why would books on magic be stored near the prison?" He quietly picked up another book. The sound of a hoof hitting the floor, in the midst of dead silence. Clue recognized that the noise was not his own doing. Turning, he saw the old guard that had told him to come down here in the first place. “Well, you were right about the documents," Clue started, "but they are linked to old magic I do not understand.” Reaching into his side pouch, the guard drew a pistol. “I knew that they were down here, I just needed you here first.” The guard's new voice was unlike what Clue remembered, it was deep and elegant. “Changeling!” He took a defensive stance. The shape shifter smirked, “Oh please, I have a pistol you silly goose.” “You wouldn’t dare to cause such a racket, that would blow your cover.” “I have a few tricks up my sleeve for that, besides, this is for your own safety. Get into that cell.” The chosen cell happened to be the closest. “Why should I comply?” The imposter stood only a few feet from him. However, he faded into nothing. Which was untrue when something was said from some direction. “I do oblige you to obey.” Clue retained his stance, but suddenly heard a “swiff” like noise from over his shoulder. There was pain, then darkness. “Spy, come in Spy, do you read me crutan?” “Yes, I hear you. I’m now inside the Lieutenant's quarters underground, he had a very nice dagger with him.” “You can play with your new toy while you work!” “Fine.” “Remember, the interest in this attack is Life, LIberty, and the Pursuit of not Fucking it up!” The dagger had an arrowhead shaped design, with the beaming blade being about five inches in length and two plus a half in width. The handle was a simple wooden cylinder with a convex end, but there was no handguard/hoof guard between the handle and head. “I’ll skip formalities, my pretty shall be called Arrowhead.” There was a knock at the door. Spy looked at the wardrobe where the body was being held, as if to reassure himself of its concealment. “Come in.” He spoke with a firm tone not his own. Entered a stallion with a straight face as he saluted to the imposter. “Sir, you called.” “Have all available staff assemble outside for an announcement.” “What about the visitors?” Spy did not change his costume’s expression, but there was distress behind the mask. “Where are they now?” “Investigator Clue was last seen in the mess hall and The Elements of Magic and Generosity are being escorted around the northern wall.” “Send the Elements here.” “Yes sir!” Twilight Sparkle and Rarity knocked on the door minutes later and stood outside awaiting the call to enter. “Enter.” The mares both entered, but without the stiffness of a standard soldier. From their perspective, they saw lieutenant Head Hammer twiddling his dagger and staring straight ahead. “So, how is your stay coming along so far?” Head Hammer was an Earth pony who took pride in the strength of his fellow stallions as he did in his body. His size was larger than most stallions his age and his coat was a military brown with a black mane. And even though his name and voice suggests a attack-head-on kind of pony, he does take some strategic thought rather than get his soldiers killed, and learns under his military captain, who happened to be visiting. His uniform, like most in the force, covered his mark. “Its been fine so far,” Twilight said scanning the simple room. “although I still wonder why Clue insisted on going to an actual fort, I have books that describe them just as well.” Hammer suggested, “There’s a difference between what you can picture, and what is real.” Twilight shrugged as if to say ‘true.’ Rarity seemed a little stiff, “So long as he gets me closer to that PHR snake. I wont argue with his style.” Head Hammer seemed to take great interest in that comment. “Who is this snake?” Rarity showed signs of embarrassment. “He’s a.. charming back stabber of a gentlecolt. He vandalized me and threw me off the Tall Tale train.” “Vandalized?” “Trust me.” He raised an eyebrow. “You want revenge on him this badly?” “But of course,” The way she talked implied that her actions and emotions were unarguably justified. “Nopony has, or ever will, get away with taking advantage of me.” “Well, anyhay, I need you to follow me into the dungeons, Clue wants to see you both.” -Outside, behind some rocks- “Are we Ready?” Engie was holding two mini tool boxes, and hauling one big one on his back. “I'm good to go.” Sniper had his rifle ready, and was tossing a jar in his hand. “I’m all set mate.” Scout was trying to perform a pistol trick, “I’m personally losing patience here.” Heavy was munching on his sandvich, “So filling…” Demo was getting drunk, or technically, more drunk, "I'm gonna be (belch) a few more..zzzzz." Pyro had his flare gun drawn, "Murph." Medic was building up Uber on Rifle, as Heavy was eating the sandvich. “I’m am almost charged.” Soldier spoke into the Mic, "Look Spy, I'm not waiting for France to finish another cigarette. My men are ready, and I'm getting bored waiting here. Wake up cyclops! Were attacking!" It was a front assault with the gorge walls on either side. With the sticky jump help from Demo, sentries were placed high up on the cliffs. With the high ground, the team had an immediate advantage. "Erectin a can of whoopass!" Engine pressed a button on his PDF and the sentries sitting silently inside of their toolboxes up on the cliff began to move into action. "Com'on boys, git goin!" The team charged forward as time was of the essence. The rocks used for cover were 30 yards from the front door and sentry cover would only last for so long until they were shot down. The colossal door was wood and stone, so a few rockets blew open a hole for Scout to jump through. The interior was wide open with few stone stairs leading to the wall. Perfect battle grounds. Scout was swift and quick, too quick for most ponies. Every blast from his gun took down one pony while he dodged spell fire. And he was well known for having an itchy trigger finger. But the fort grew into a bloody chaos. Sentries poured down onto the fort tearing souls apart limb from limb; those who did not pay heed to Scout were killed by him or the guns; the high walls became under the influence of a red dot prowling from a distance. The wall burst open to reveal more humans attacking. Demoman choose to fight like a demoknight, slashing his way through charging forces; Heavy was churning away next to a pre-upgraded dispenser; two mini sentries covered engie as their bigger brother was being built; Pyro skipped along without a care in the world, so long as it was filled with burning horses; Medic was preoccupied with dissecting a pegasus; and Rifleman was popping heads. A big fort comes with a big crew. Magic shielding sprang from around the camp and anypony who couldn't make one flocked to safety. Demoman was chasing a cowardly archer who was fortunate enough to make it to safety through a bubble. “Aw no ye don’!” Refusing to let his prey escape, Eyelander sacrificed a soul to charge itself in a yellow glow, and slashed at the bubble. The “POP!” that came from the act of penetrating the shield resembled that of a large balloon meeting its demise. The ponies inside glanced at the unicorns who failed against the attack. They were on the ground, clutching their horns in pain. “Sorry ta burst yer bubble, but its time ta die!” The grass that grew on the open ground were watered in necks of blood as the dense population of ponies within the bubble could not retaliate the master swordsman. Heavy was getting worried at a large group of ponies that had banded together and armed themselves with archers. Even warriors picked up fallen bows. “Incoming! Demo, help us!” He turned to see his companion much too far away and preoccupied with helping Soldier with some tough fighters. For a moment he admired the unnatural speed at which the pair of old friends moved. Returning to the large archer bubble, he could only grind his teeth when arrows began to quickly turn him into a pincushion. He did try to aim at any pony who was trying to enter the shield. Saha did her best, churning through bullets and raining horizontal hell on any victim she could see. “MEDIC!” The doctor was about 10 feet too far for his medigun to reach Heavy. Rather than pull out the crusader crossbow, he turned to his current heal target Pyro. “Pyro!” It turned to look at him, reflecting an arrow as it did so. Medic pointed to Heavy, “Give me a lift!” “Hudda! Murph!” Medic looked toward his dying Russian and jumped in the air. He then felt a condense wave of wind sending him flying shortly through the hazardous air, an arrow missing him barely, as soon as he was in range he latched his medi-beam onto his patient while in mid flight. He landed right behind the russian pincushion, who felt grateful for the wave of healing. Sniper ran through the opening of the wall, as the high walls were now mostly clear, he saw the increasingly large bubble and reached into a shirt pocket. He retrieved a bullet with a shiny bullet head, and jammed it into the gun. Then came the painful task of waiting for the rifle to charge, he could see a pony raise her hoof and have all the others raise their armed bows in turn. He saw them being drawn back, but the gun was at 75% charge. He fired as they did. The sniper rifle bucked Sniper in the shoulder harder as it had ever done before. A flash of magical light erupted from the barrel; the bullet flew through the air like a meteor; it broke through a few arrows it intersected with; and it smashed through the shield. In that time, Heavy ducked and shielded Medic and Engineer dove behind the dispenser. The onslaught of arrows never came. Looking up, Engineer saw Rifleman rooted to a spot directing between them and the exposed ponies. HIs hands were raised, and a red aura coated them in a foreboding manner. This same glow was the force that caught every single arrow that was destined to kill at least one target. “Ah, its good to feel the real rush of magic again.” “I did it! This is fucking awesome!” “We can celebrate the results of last night later, I say we put these in their rightful place.” The pointed sticks turned around and and before anyone could retaliate, every shaft was given its speed again and was hurled into a body. The fellow fortress members cheering in approval. "Magic is credit to team!" A warrior charged at Rifleman in his moment of glory, but found his body lifted and his axe taken away. He could not flail or move, but could see the human grow a wicked smile. His captor stepped to the side, revealing a computerized turret being reloaded. In his fit of panic, the stallion moaned in a suppressed scream. "Beep-beep," the gun detected the stallion was no longer a threat, but scanned the visage of Rifleman, who nodded at the sensor. The AI interpreted the vague movement as a command to fire. Being the efficient robot, it fired of a whole second of bullets into the head before concluding that the target was definitely dead. Feeling cocky, Saura opened Rifleman’s hands to unleash something else, but ended up blowing himself backwards a few feet and landing flat on his back. “My bad, we... have more training to do.” “Dammit woman,” He spoke aloud, “That hurt. Lets stick to the levitation.” In the next few moments, between Demo and Sniper, bubbles were bursting across the fort. Sniper chose to rest his sore arm on the dispenser while he took shots. “Boom.” BANG “Headshot, cricky my arm hurts.” The conflict came to a standstill, quite unexpectedly. The sentry detected a cease fire, and paused. The remaining forces of the one powerful fortress looked at the body of the dead military captain in charge of the whole fort, shot dead in the face with a scattergun, and missing most of his head. Scout took advantage to bask himself in the glory of the kill. “Your stupid face just got dominated you peace of crap. You say I am inferior compared to your all powerful pony greatness, well I say fuck you!” He turned to the rest of the ponies standing around him. “Yo why we stop fighting? Was that kill really that awesome? I thought it was pretty cool, but I just shot the guy. If you want I can-” “SCOUT!” “Jesus! What!?” Demoman walked up to him, “Shut your bloody face, ye chatterbag. But I do agree, why did we stop?” The ponies looked at one another, the air was tight, and the silence was eerie. Captain Sharp Sword was famous for being ferocious on the battlefield, his acts of successful bravery got him through the rankings faster than any other before him. While the death of their leader does not call for unorganized chaos, it was a huge blow to moral. This pause turned the area into a place of awkward confusion as to what was to happen next. It was like a row of dominos, what ever somepony did, everypony else would follow. If somepony attacked, the fighting would resume, if somepony ran, everypony would run. The pony next to the dead captain mentally tipped, his mind almost shattered with brain blood not his own dripping of his coat. He simply let go of the weapons like they were lethal snakes, and threw up his hoofs in a desperate gesture. “I surrender!”