Buckshot groaned as she opened her eyes, her head pounding as if her brain was trying to punch its way out of her skull. She found herself in an empty white room... well, empty save for the other people there with her. She got up and looked down, realizing she was wearing her brown and black armored bodysuit with a belt with three apples embedded in the buckle, black boots, and brown gloves. Her hair was tied into its usual ponytail with a red ribbon and her hat lay on the floor next to her. As she picked it up, she identified most of the others.
"Damn." Buckshot turned to see a young woman in a blue and white flight jacket with a cloud and a rainbow lightning bolt on the back, black shirt with a similar design across it, dark blue khakis, and black boots with blue and white wing patterns on the side. She wore black fingerless gloves and a white scarf that almost looked like wings the way she wore it. Her rainbow hair was worn back and a pair of brown flight goggles hung round he neck. "I've got the hangover but I don't remember partying this hard." She looked up and saw Buckshot. "Applejack?" Then noticed her clothes and tried to hide a blush. "Do I even want to know how I got into these?"
"Hot crap!" Ricochette and Buckshot turned to face a young woman in a pink tank top with a white smiley face, pink and white capris, and pink boots. Her capris were adorned with various designs that looked like they had been cut from something and stitched on with wings on either side of each mark, but on the right side, there was a trio of red, blue, and yellow balloons, the strings weaved between the marks on its left and right. A similar mark adorned her right hip, but only the top of the balloon were barely visible. She wore pink and yellow arm warmers that fit like fingerless gloves at her hands and similar stockings. Her poofy pink hair reached her waist and was tied in a loose ponytail. "Not this again." She laid back down, groaning.
"It's like déjà vu or some horrible, recurring nightmare."
"Yeah," Buckshot responded. "Looks like we got rookies this time." Ricochette then noticed the other people in the room.
"Who are you losers?" asked Shadowbolt as she noticed the others in the room. "And where are we?"
"Who cares," said Dragon King. He was in a green shirt with black armored shoulder guards, purple khakis that blended with his purple scales, and black boots. A black steel muzzle covered his face from the nose-down, which was meant to prevent him from doing what he tried next. "No chains, no wall, no guards. No gems either. Guess it's meat, then." He looked down and noticed Crystal Cold laying in front of him with her hands locked in a metal box. He grabbed her leg and dragged her. She kicked and squirmed under his grasp. Once she was close, she planted a painful kick between his legs, causing him to let go. She got up and added the momentum to her swing, bashing her metal-encased hands into his jaw. As he hit the ground, Crystal jumped onto his chest and placed the metal restraints against his neck in a guillotine fashion.
"Try it," she said, "And I'll make the most expensive shoe-bag-coat collection in history!"
Dragon smiled, not that it was very visible under the muzzle, but fairly obvious from the tone of his voice and facial expression. "I like feisty." Crystal couldn't help but grin back.
Suddenly, there was a loud banging that echoed through the room, rattling everyone's eardrums. They all turned to see Star Crusher trying to punch her way out of the room, her hand leaving a dent in the wall. "GAH! This is a load of crap! I'm leaving!"
"Not unless I say so." All turned to see a woman in a black shirt, dark purple skirt suit, and black loafers. Her wavy midnight-purple hair flowed behind her, with bangs covering most of the left side of her face. "And don't damage my wall or I will use your bones to make a plaster to cover it up. Now sit."
Most of them did so, but Buckshot and Ricochette just leaned against the wall. "What's this about, Luna?" asked Buckshot.
"As most of you may know, Task Force E is an off-the-books government program that gives convicts like you, with multiple life sentences and no hope for parole, let alone getting out, to actually make good use of their life and skills. Operatives are sent in as expendable agents to perform dangerous, usually covert missions with a less than 10% survival rate and the numbers only went up last Friday."
"Hence the term, The Suicide Force," Ricochette pointed out, matter-of-factly.
"Cut to the chase, Luna," said Buckshot. "What hell did you decide to make us go through this time?"
Luna paused for dramatic effect. "You're going to break into the Aurora Asylum."
For a moment, there was silence, but as soon as it clicked...
"Oh, hell no!"
"You're flippin' nuts!"
"Screw that!"
"I don't do creepy."
"KUMQUAT!!!"
Once the commotion started to die down, Ricochette spoke up. "Okay, let me get this straight. Aurora Asylum, the most impenetrable, inescapable prison on the planet, that holds every loon, nutcase, criminal, genius and otherwise, and psychopath in this city and others, all of which want out; the same prison people have been trying to bust out of for decades; that's where you want us to break into?"
"Is that a problem?" asked Luna.
Ricochette thought for a while. "Meh. Time out AND time off my sentence? By all means, call me if you need someone to break into Tartarus. Besides, there's nothing I can't break into."
"No kidding," said Buckshot, mockingly.
Luna waved her hand in front of her and a holographic computer screen appeared in front of her. On it was the picture and information of the criminal they all recognized as The Puzzler. "A few weeks ago, under my employment, The Puzzler stole important information from me while on a job: files containing information on every past, present, and potential future member of the Suicide Force." Next pictures of the seven in the room with information on each of them appeared on the screen.
"Am guessing that includes us," said Buckshot, noticing the picture of her sister under her own image. Next, the screen scrolled down, revealing a number of other members of the Force.
"Precisely. She's threatening to leak it onto the internet, to the press, the tabloids; anything that'll make it global news."
"And you want us to steal it back. Where is it now?"
"In a flash drive on her staff," Luna said as the image showed the star being removed from the middle of the moon adorning the top of the staff. "Which is currently being kept under lock and key in the forbidden items room under the facility."
"Right below the intensive care facility next to the kitchen," said Pinkie. "I can still smell the cupcakes... Good times. Wonder if Gator misses my baking..."
"Why all the rookies?" asked Ricochette.
"Do I look like I expected Puzzler to pull some stunt like this? If I did, I'd have made sure you had Deathstrike here. Besides, Pinkie Pie has encyclopedic knowledge of the Asylum: every secret entrance, every guard rotation..."
"Every different type of cake they serve on special occasions," Pinkie said, practically drooling. "Oh, the frosting..."
"Is she gonna be okay?"
"She can handle herself around cake. It's just been a while since-"
"Ah meant if she's gonna be okay that close ta Discord."
Immediately, Pinkie stopped smiling and turned to face him. "I'm fine. He was a jerk... and a meanie. I'm way over him."
There was a silence. "Well, I'm certainly convinced," said Crystal.
"I kill to keep losers and scum like this off the streets," said Shadowbolt. "I refuse to work alongside them."
"I don't care what kind of coffee you'd like to be served on your First Class flight to the Bahamares. So why should I give a damn?"
"And how do you know we won't just try to escape once were out?" asked Buckshot.
"Because you're smarter than that."
She had a point. It didn't end well for members of TFE who tried to run away during a mission, whether they faked their own death or just made a break for it. There was nowhere to hide. "Maybe. And Am guessing the trackers in our necks are the other reason?"
"That... And the trackers contain a powerful nanotech explosive with enough power to blow off the front end of a tank. But don't worry, it's not messy; it superheats the soft tissue in your neck to the point where whatever is blown off is incinerated in milliseconds."
"Ouch."
"Your bluffing," said Star Crusher. They all turned to her. "I know because I've dealt with manipulative pricks like you before."
"Watch where you tread, Glimmer," Luna spat. "And believe me, you have never met anyone like me."
"Listen to the woman with the trigger to the bomb in our necks, dumbass," said Crystal.
"Ha! You wouldn't go through all this trouble just to kill us. You need as many of us as possible alive for this to work, otherwise you wouldn't have called us all."
"And what makes you think I can't just find a replacement?"
"Because even you know it would look suspicious."
There was a Cold War going on in that room. Luna and Star Crusher glared at each other until... "Fine." She tapped a button on the holocomputer and a door opened. Star Crusher walked over and stopped at the threshold. Then took a step forward. The moment both feet crossed the border, a red light started blinking in her neck. "Wha-?" She looked back as she felt her head heat up and vibrate. Red and yellow lines traced their way from her neck up. She tried to yell, but was cut of when the explosive went off, blowing her head clean off her neck like a guillotine had been used to cut through butter. The headless body stood for a few seconds before collapsing onto the floor.
"Anyone else?" Luna asked, staring at the rest, who all remained silent.
"So, who's our replacement?" asked Crystal.
"What replacement?" Luna asked, grinning. "Any other questions?"
"How do we get in?" asked Ricochette.
"I have an informant in the city who can get you into the Asylum. He will provide you with gear and shelter for the night, as well as any other necessary information required that you don't already know." The computer started to fade. "Find the staff, get the drive, get out, and don't get caught. Remember, this is a covert op. Buckshot? Ricochette? Rubber bullets and stun rounds only." Applejack grinned.
"Hey, Luna," Buckshot called. Luna turned to face her. "Play nice, so will Ah; try ta screw me over and Ah'll blow her head off so clean it'll make yer explosive look as clean as a chainsaw."
Luna grinned and said, "I'm clear. Gas 'em."
"Wait, what 'em?" asked Pinkie.
Suddenly, the room was filled with a white mist as the doors shut. They scrambled to the walls, trying to hammer and claw their way out, but to no avail. Then all they could see was black.