The world today
By Dracarion
/*
Disclaimer: I don’t own the My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. I don’t own the characters or places from the show. I do own the characters that I gave life in this fic though, and if you’d like to use them, then please let me know, or atleast send me a link. All vehicles and other brands mentioned in this are property of their respective owners.
*/
Part One: The Setup
Two mares walked into the large building. It was not hard to mistake them for a young couple judging by the way that the yellow one playfully nuzzled the white one who giggled at the affection. As they approached a teller window, the yellow mare shifted her red mane with her hoof before lowering her Stetson over her eyes. The white unicorn looked at the teller, her grey-green eyes dancing as she greeted her. “Good morning, ma’am.”
“Oh, good morning,” the older mare looked up from her ledgers, “how may I help you?”
“Oh, well,” the unicorn brought up a hoof and toyed at her pink and purple mane, “we would like to make a withdrawal.”
“Alright,” the teller shifted through her ledgers, pulling one in front of her, “can I get your name?”
“But of course, it’s Sweetella Blossom.” She said with a friendly smile on her face.
“Alright Sweetie, and the number for your account is?”
The yellow mare pulled a small piece of paper from her dress, and passed it to Sweetie, who passed it to the teller. “Here you go, ma’am”
“Thank you.” She turned to a nearby computer, the keys already typing under her magic. “Oh my. Um, I don’t know how to tell you girls this,” the hat started to lift up, “but the information you gave me for this account doesn’t match our records.”
“Welp, it were werth a try.” The hat raised and the teller was now facing into eyes the color of fire. The mare’s voice was quiet but had an edge of malice to it. “Now, jus’ giv’ us all the bit in that thar till, an’ nopony will get hurt.”
“I-I-I’m sorry miss, but I…” The teller shrieked as a shotgun was produced from under the dress, and a chunk of ceiling fell just behind her.
“I’m sorry tuh hear it.” Her thick southern drawl distorting her speech. She turned, brandishing the large gun as she shouted. “Alright! List’n up! The last thang we want is somepony thinkin’ that they could be a hero here, so just lay down ‘til we leave.” She swept the gun across the room, so everypony could see that she wasn’t kidding. She turned back to the teller. “Open the tills, all a ya!” She did have to marvel at how effective a shotgun was in getting things opened; tills, doors, mouths, this thing was like the ultimate opener.
It was that moment that a stallion thought he saw his opening, and started to charge. Only to be met with the business end of the horrific weapon. “Sorry.” He shouted as he fell down and started crying, any other words he said were lost to his fear.
The yellow mare only nodded at him. “Don’t wanna kill nopony, we just want the money.” She turned to her accomplice. “Hey, can ya hammaspase this?”
“I’ll try.” Sweetie closed her eyes, focusing and seemed to merely pop the money out of existence after a few seconds. “Alright, I got it.”
“Okay, I still don’ wanna hurt nopony,” her three legged canter looked rather interesting but was quite effective while holding her weapon, “so please stay down.” She watched as they lay before her. This power is still slightly intoxicating. She thought as the moved towards the door. She felt bad when she realized that the stallion still hadn’t learned his lesson, as he charged again. The mare turned and with her eyes dancing like fire, she pulled the trigger. “I didn’ wanna hurt nopony. But you jus’ couldn’ let me go.” She sighed, looking down at the now three legged stallion. “Anypony else?” Her gun leg swept across the prone crowd. “No? Good.”
From that point it took very little time to get out to the parking lot. The mares were greeted with the sight of a bright orange and purple sedan with dubstep blaring from its sound system. The yellow mare only sighed. “She really has no ider what ‘subtle’ means.” Sweetie only giggled. They quickly clamored into the offending vehicle, the yellow mare in front and Sweetie in the back. The yellow one tossed her gun into the back floor board.
The pegasus driver looked over at the yellow mare sitting next to her. “Heard you ran into a little problem there Bloom.” Cold purple eyes scanning fiery yellow-red.
“Had anotha’ hero in the audience, had to drop him.” She strained to hear the sirens over the blaring bass. “I think we should git goin.” She looked at her friend as she twisted the knob on the stereo.
“Agreed. HOLD ON!!!” The orange pegasus turned the stereo back up then reached down between the two and threw the car into gear. Her purple mane fell into her face as she tore out backwards, eyes glued to the mirror on the windshield. She then slammed it into first as she spun the car around in a perfect 270 along the axis. The pegasus could feel everything about the car, the tires vying for traction, the RPM of the overpowered engine, the heavy thump of the bass, all of it. It was her calling, and she loved it.
“Um, Scoots?” Bloom pointed to the very narrow exit out onto the side street.
Scoots muttered something like ‘show time’ as she floored the gas pedal, a small maniacal smile on her face. She hit the side street next to the bank with a slide, two of the cruisers following right behind her. Scoots took the next corner at almost a ninety degree angle to the curb. The cruisers still followed, somehow. She looked back, seeing that she had gained a small amount of ground from her gamble. Then she saw her escape across the park, a large truck with an obscenely large trailer heading down the next cross street. If I time this right, we escape, she thought, but if I’m off by the least little bit…. The grin only grew larger at that.
Bloom saw the truck at the same time, and after seeing the grin her long time friend was wearing, she started to worry. “Scoots?” The car started to turn. “Scoots!” the pegasus slammed on the gas. “SCOOTALOO!!!!” Bloom braced herself against the dashboard as the car slid sideways in front of the large truck. As the large bumper approached, Bloom found herself thinking back to what had gotten them to this point, the events of ten years earlier that had crafted the world today.
-- - - - - --- --
“Ten years ago, there was an event called First Strike.” A purplish-grey unicorn mare started. She sat alone in the room, her eyes focused on the camera in front of her as she carefully chose her words. “First Strike was a terroristic move by the griffons north of us to bring Equestria into a war.” There was a quick flash of static as the unicorn was replaced by an orange pegasus.
“In Ponyville, we watched as our homes burned and we wept as we heard the cries but there was nothing we could do.” The orange pegasus, who’s voice was cold with rage and regret bottled up, was replaced by a yellow earth pony with a Stetson on her head.
“The last thing mah sis said to me that night was ‘Take care o’ my hat, ya’ know I’ll be back for it.’” She took her hat off and toyed with it gently, tears in her eyes. “She ran to help those still in the burnin’ town, while I… I just... hid with the others.” Then with a sudden burst of static, she was replaced by a white unicorn.
“We became separated from our family and friends as Equestria needed soldiers to fight.” Her eyes cast down towards the floor. “Many never did return. And of those who did…” She paused for a second before another burst of static and the grey unicorn reappeared.
“That was ten years ago. It’s been ten years since Fillydelphia was burned to the ground,” static and then the yellow mare.
“Ten years since Ponyville was set ablaze,” static then the orange pegasus.
“Ten years since Cloudsdale was torn apart. We did this memorial so you can NEVER FORGET…!” She slammed her hoof down on the table so hard the camera shuddered, shouting the last two words before the static switcher her with the white mare, the camera back at its original focus.
“Always remember the heroes who fell and the lives that were lost.” The white mare closed her eyes and let her head drop. There was nothing but static afterwards.
-- -- - - - - - ----- - -
It always amazes me where my mind strays when death approaches. Bloom thought, realizing she had just reminisced their last semi-legit job. How we got here, why we’re here, the last time I was this scared, the last time I was happy… those were thoughts most ponies would think were normal in these situations. Our last job, First Strike, things of that nature, most ponies would think that you were insane. She watched through the windshield as the two cars continued their dance in ultra slow motion. Her eyes looked at the wheelmare, revealing an impossibly large smile on her face. She loved the rush of her job in the group. She always had been a little insane behind the wheel, and yet she had only ever hurt two ponies, one of which had definitely deserved what he got.
Time seemed to suddenly catch up with the car as they started to pass the oncoming truck. An orange hoof tapped a cover on the dash board and lifted sunglasses out of the hidden compartment. “I knew we could do it.” She flipped her sunglasses on.
“I neva doubted ya’ Scoots.” Bloom twisted to look in the back. “Sweetie, can you mask us?”
“Easy.” The white unicorn’s eyes closed as her horn flashed for a second. “Done. Anypony that sees Evie will only see blue and yellow car.”
Bloom sighed as she turned back to her orange accomplice, who was currently merging them with normal traffic. “Must you name all your vehicles?”
“Yes.” A purple eye gazed at her from behind the sunglasses briefly before turning back to the road. “Each one of my cars is an individual, why shouldn’t they each have their own names? I mean that would have been like asking ‘Shy why she named all her bunnies.”
“A’right. I see your point.” Bloom turned back to looking forwards. “I jus’ don’ get it’s all.” Her gaze drifted up to the brown hat she wore. “I miss ‘em, ya’ll know?”
“Are you alright, dear?” came a voice from the back, a hauntingly familiar ring to it.
“Seriously, ya’ know we all miss them, but what’s done is done and there isn’t any going back now.” Their driver shot back coldly as if not wanting to through the memories again.
“Yeah, I know.” Bloom’s eyes fell to the floor. She felt the car turn. “What the… you have got to be kiddin’ me.” Scootaloo only grinned back at her as she pulled up to the order box.
“Welcome to Burger Joint, order when ready.” The static-y voice came from the small metal box.
- --- - - - - - - -- --
A grey unicorn sat a desk with a computer setup on it, her eyes quickly scanning all three monitors that sat before her before she turned to a nearby laptop and gleaned more information from it. I saw it earlier, where did it go, where did it go. She learned a long time ago not to speak when this distracted, so she would always think to herself in times like these. I just saw it where did it…. AHA! There it was, a simple e-mail addressed to the crew. She moved the mouse to click it when she heard the garage door open. She froze as she heard a car pull in and the door close back. It wasn’t until three ponies came cantering in that she found the will to move again.
“…and I still can’t believe you!” The yellow one said, pausing to point a hoof at the orange one. “Dinks, can you believe that after losing the cops, this foal decides that we need to stop and get burgers!” She slung the shotgun off her back and stored it back in its rack near the door.
“What can I say?” The orange one replied around the Burger Joint bag in her mouth. “I was hungry, and I got enough for everypony!” She sat the bag on the counter, tilting it so the contents fell neatly out. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle before hoofing two burgers on to her back, “it’s lunch time.” She cantered off into the small living room they had setup.
Bloom just sighed at the pegasus. “That mare’s gonna get us killed one day.” She followed suit and grabbed something to drink and a couple of burgers before heading in the same direction.
“Hey, Sweetie, come here for sec.” Dinkie called over to Sweetie Bell, who had just rematerialized the money and put it in a safe for later.
“Ok,” she walked around the desk to be greeted by four screens, each one holding a dizzying amount of information alone. “What is it?”
“A job,” Dinkie’s eyes glistened at the idea, “an actual job!” She clicked the message and it popped open on the display. “Uh oh.”
The two unicorns entered the room where the other two mares were currently relaxing on overly large sofas. “Hay!” Sweetie Bell shouted, pulling their attention away from whatever surely existential conversation they were having. “We got a job!”
“Alright, whatchya got us?” Scoots quickly looked up at Dinkie, not moving from her current position on her back.
“Well, it said simple um… extraction. We’d get more details upon accepting the offer.” Her words were carefully selected as always.
“An’ the pay?” Drawled the yellow mare from her couch.
“Seventy five thousand,” she knew that this would entail more than just ‘extraction’, “a third to be paid to us upon acceptance.”
Bloom’s face reflected Dinkie’s thoughts. “Sounds like a tough, dirty job, what do y’all think?”
“For fifteen grand each? Hmmmm…” Scootaloo’s eyes locked with Bloom’s, a dead serious expression shown through clearly, “I say go for it, can’t be worse than anything we’ve done already.” Through some twist of fate, only the two mares on the sofas had blood on their hooves and they were determined to keep it that way.
“Alright,” Bloom stood up from her couch and started to move towards the room they had dubbed the command center, “let’s get Sweetie ready. We need to get all we can outta these guys ‘cause the last thing either of us needs is more blood on our hooves.” She dropped her voice as she leaned over to Scootaloo, “and let’s hope to Celestia that it ain’t another case of the ‘three E’s’.” Scootaloo solemnly nodded. The ‘three E’s’, as Bloom called them, were Extraction, Extortion, and Elimination, the three E’s that were used far too often in these kinds of communications.
-- ---- - - - - - - --- -
It had taken less than thirty minutes for them to setup the light and camera rigs. The lights would obscure Sweetie’s features by only showing her silhouette. Let them show their face first. This had been the first lesson Bloom had learned when the world around them went to hell. For four years we’ve been doin’ this, livin’ on the darkside here, gettin’ our hooves dirty for the rich and powerful. If that first meetin’ didn’ teach me nothin’ else, I learned to let them show their face first. It had been four years since the Equestrian economy had collapsed, leaving the rich rich and the poor unemployed. Self proclaimed Survival Cells had started up, small groups of ponies just trying to survive by doing the things most would hate, anything and everything from doing a recorded message to personally seeing that somepony ‘gets the message’, from giving an advisory a nudge to removing a rival from the equation… permanently, these groups would take almost any job to get money. The four mares gathered in the room had followed suit and, like most other cells, had declared a name for themselves, The Crusading Mare Crew, CMC, almost as a tie to a time long since gone and as an impossible hope for things to return to the way they were more than ten years ago.
The lights were set, the connection was made, everything was ready to go. As the monitors flickered to life, two forms quickly came to light. On the left was the silhouette of Sweetie, the ‘face’ of the operation, and on the right, another silhouette, a colt with an overly long horn, their contact for the current job.
“Good evening, Crusaders.” He said, his voice was regal, and filled with disdain for having to contact such commoners as he would have put it.
“Good evening, sir…” Sweetie let her sentence trail, subtly inviting the colt before them to give up his name. Her voice carried a seductive edge to it, a little trick she’d learned to pull out when trying to get something from another pony.
“You may call me Night Runner, and what will I call you?” He maintained the arrogance in his voice.
“You will call me Sugar Cube.” Sweetie answered, using the generic name that Bloom’s sister used for everypony, the seductiveness still behind the words as she used similar words to the colt’s question. Her eyes shifted over to Apple Bloom, a silent apology for what would most likely bring back many a bad memory. “Now,” she let her voice become a little more seductive as she struck a pose that still kept her features obscured, “what do you want us to do?”
Negotiations had just begun.
To Be Continued……