Bombs and Drugs
Big Mac awoke to a slightly swiming head. He clenched his eyes shut and rubbed them with his fetlocks to try and steady his vision, no luck though. Despite it being the third time rubbing, his eyes just couldn't seem to adjust to the slightly wavering room he looked out at.
Grumbling, the stallion carefully extracted himself from bed. His nerves making any morning rituals or problems either not happen or seem irrlivant. He looked out the window to find the sun well over the horizon and sighed, apple bucking season would start up soon, and he wouldn't be able to sleep as late as he was accustomed to.
"Macintosh?" Annabelle mewled and lifted her head, stretching out her neck with a satisfying pop. "Hmm, where are you going?"
It was always a little irritating when Anna woke up, she was one of those sorts who'd forget the night before in the first few minutes into the waking world. Despite the fact both of them had packed a few bags a piece, the stallion reminded her about last night's conversation and it all came back to her in depressed realization. "Hang on, let me get ready and I'll come with you."
It only took a few minutes for her to go through her daily routine before the two ponies went downstairs to see no breakfast or lunch waiting for them, only a very patient Granny Smith, sitting on her rocking chair and winding peacefully back and forth. "'Bout time ya'll lazy birds got outta bed." She stopped rocking and jumped off her chair, arching her back and sighing. "Well, did ya wanna lead the way, er eat first? Ah didn't make nothin' so it'll be on ya to feed yerselves."
Figuring it would be the last meal in the house, Mac asked Annabelle if the she'd mind making something. "Maybe it'll help lessen' the blow fer when she gets ta hollerin'." He whispered.
Annabelle agreed and wondered to the kitchen, preparing some generic sandwiches for the late morning meal. Granny and Mac now alone, the marshmellow green mare turned to her grandson. "Heard ya'll movin around more 'n usual last night." She said, reminiscing about hearing drawers opening and closing along with more walking around.
Packing was a loud thing, no matter how quite one was. Even better, Applebloom and Applejack were in Canterlot for the royal wedding right now, so claiming any type of plausible deniability was out of the question. "Eyup."
"Care to share why?" Her words were calm and polite, but still held an air of suspicion. It was almost like she knew what they were doing, and it wasn't like the young ponies were trying to be loud or anything, but apparently it was loud enough to rouse his granny's suspicions. "Ah know the sounds of foal makin' when Ah hear it, so don't be tellin' me none o' that ta butter me up."
'Wow, even now she can still crack jokes... HA!'
The two shared a short, awkward laugh. Mac was almost tempted to tell her right then about the Cannabis plants, thinking her good mood would help him in some way. Alas, he decided to just wait and show her; let her see and judge for herself exactly what he'd been doing with her property.
Shortly after, Annabelle came back out with a trey of freshly made lettuce and tomato sandwiches, complete with olives peirced tooth picks on top. It would be a good last meal before facing the wrath of Granny Smith. Eating passed in silence, the cream colored earth pony casting worried looks over to Machintosh every so often. Between his growing sickness and the idea of them being out on the streets because of her insistence on the crop, it was only logical that she would be.
Still though, Mac wasn't going to let her blame herself too much, he was the one who agreed to do it, her influence held sway, but it was his decision in the end. He'd face the consequences for what was about to happen, even if the pit in his stomach told him not to.
Once done eating he began to walk out to the fields, Anna and Granny in tow. Clouds were rolling over head and he had a slight inceling to use that as an excuse to turn back and wait for tomorrow, but he knew it would just be a delay of the inevitable. Assuming they did get thrown out, walking to Sin's place in the rain didn't appeal to him.
He felt the first few drops of rain drip against his snoot as they finally approached the small enclave of trees that surrounded the garden. He looked back to find Granny Smith's eyes widden at the rows of vegitables and roots that mared the once lush and full lawn of grass. "So, this is what ya'll were doin' back here." She said.
"Eyeup." Her grandson nodded.
"N' this is what them ponies were here tah see? Can't imagine why they'd be here fer this." She stepped forward and began inspecting the roots and stems, Mac waited for her to get to the cannabis plants. Once she did, she stopped and took special care to examine them, making thoughtful noises as she looked down the row.
The rain was coming down harder now, Mac felt the anticipation building in his shoulders, waiting for her to ask what exactly the plant was. He felt his stomach clench as Granny humphed at the plant and stood, looking at him with a scrutinous gaze. "Mind tellin' me what this is doin' here?"
"It's ganja!" Annabelle exclaimed before Mac could open his mouth. "We- I was using it to help a friend with sever mental problems, someone else had given him some and it seemed to help alot. But she ran out and my friend got worse. I asked your grandson if I could grow some out here. Macintosh was against it, but I preassured him into letting me do it. I'm sorry."
Mac's eyes went wide at the admission. She was going to take the fall for him.
'Dude...'
"Please, don't be mad at him! We have permits from Celestia herself! It was-"
"It was underhoofed to be goin' behind my back n' plantin' crops like these." Granny spat, gesturing to the cannabis. "Ah can't belive what ya'll have done here. Especially you, Machintosh. Ah thought Ah raised you better."
The mentioned pressed his lips and endured his lecture, waiting for the inevitable to come. As bad as he felt, he was more relived than anything else. It felt good that everything was coming out in the open. Granny shook her head and turned back to the guarden, she picked up one of the few buds he hadn't taken and began examining it.
"Ah mean, tah hide a treasure like this here n' not tell me? Shame on both of you."
'Treasure?'
Taken aback, Macintosh looked to Annabelle for a brief second to see that she was just as off put by the comment as he was.
"Hmmm, Zeborican grain, firm bud, peach and purple specks..." She sniffed the plant and let out a delighted sigh. "She's ready fer harvest too!"
"Wait, what?" Macintosh asked, his eyes shooting wide. "Ya, but, how do ya know- about..."
Granny began to chuckle, tossing the bud into he air. "C'mon now, Macintosh. Did ya really an ol' mare like me could keep buckin' the entire apple farm by mah self after yer parents were gone?" She smirked and looked at the small piece of plant again. "Used to sell these little beauties out ta the travlin' drifters n' settlers who passed through Ponyville when yer pa n' Ah settled in. Ah stopped once he and your ma made enough money off the apple farm to keep it going, though. And boy howdy were some ponies mad about that." She chuckled and walked over to pat her grand son on the shoulder. "If'n ya need any advice, just come n' ask me."
She stopped and looked between both Macintosh and Annabelle. "'N don't ever think about tryin' ta hide somethin' like this again. If Ah was younger, I'd tan both yer hides right nao!"
Both ponies stood at stiff legged attention. "Yes ma'am." They declared in unison. Pleased with the reply, Granny began walking back to the farm house. Anna noticed she was still carrying the bud and asked why she was planning to do with it.
"Are ya kiddin' chil'?" the elder mare hollered back before looking at the bud with a cheshire grin. "This stuff's great fer muh arthritis."
The entirety of the Zeborican village had been rounded up and was currently being held a half a mile from their quaint town. Malich eyed each and every one of them with suspicious contempt, he wanted them close enough to see what he was capable of, but not too close that they would be caught in it. He wanted the message spread to every last Zeborican immigrant in the nation.
He'd told his subordinates to avoid killing them, despite the doctrine's granting of the authority. Property, decency, respect, all of these things he expected from the mercenaries under his command. Which must have been working, considering how cooperative the zebras always were. And yet, it seemed as though an example needed to be made, not through blood, but through destruction.
It was all he could do for the time being. If what his grandfather had told him was correct, than the terrorists were raised on strong values of protecting their people and family. Threatening the zebras, while not the most kind hearted of actions, was a preferable alternative to having an apocalypse of undead roaming the countryside. He wouldn't be so heavy handed if it weren't for the fact that dozens of ponies an a few griffons had already been killed for these cultists goals. Mainly his own assets.
How they came to the conclusion he'd brought changlings into the Federation, Malich was unsure, but he'd be damned before the citizenry was made to suffer for it. It was a small, miniscue bit of altruism, but the spark was there. These things were abominations that would kill indiscriminately, his company was the greatest chance the Federation had of preventing their continued infestation.
Of course, he didn't want anything else blamed for the fall of this country other than the actions of the citizens themselves. With as unstable as the ecnomy was, and reports of rioting and protests in key metropolitine areas of North Equine, a zombie apocalypse would be just the thing to tip the country over the edge.
He could see the news papers now. "Economy crashes, zombies invade Unitas."
No, no, no. He wouldn't have that. If his plan was to work for a better world, the undead had to go. In order for that to happen, the cultists had to stop conjuring them.
"Mr. Malich!" Called a scrawnly unicron as she walked up to his position on the hill, two zebras in tow behind her. "Sir, the Zeborican chieftain and his daughter would like to speak with you."
Sighing, the executive pony nodded for them to come forwards. He'd been expecting this, the zebras weren't very happy about being told to grab personal belongings and evacuated from their huts, but once they'd been told that their village was going to be engulfed in fire, they packed up and left in short order, begrudgingly so, of course.
The Chieftan was an older, but much brawnier zebra than most. The stripes on his face were outlined with darker blue paint, distinguishing him from the rest of his clan, along with the fact that his ears were lined with golden looped earrings. He walked oddly, using a rather old and worn looking staff he carried as his fourth leg.
The daughter was an older filly, breaching on the cusp of adult hood. She didn't make eye contact, electing instead to keep her eyes on the ground. Aside from a dark brown cloak, Malich couldn't' see much of her body, but the resilient look on her face more than told him how unhappy she was with the entire situation.
"Chieftan Maleek!" The zebra called with a gracious bow, one that the ashen pony returned. "I am Chief Alidon, and this is my daughter, Yoganda. I have come to speak peace, I ask that you allow my people to return to our homes."
The executive regarded the zebra for a moment. Unlike the others, he wasn't afraid of Triple M. He didn't show any signs of fear in his stance nor face, nothing but honest concern and want for normalcy and to be left in peace. Malich had to give respect where respect was due, this zebra would make a great addition to the new world. Assuming things here didn't escalate to violence, of course.
Luckily, the chieftain of this tribe had spent time studying the native language, and made it a point to speak with the locals himself instead of relying on a translator.
"Chief Alidon. I'm afraid that I can't let you do that." He replied grimly, explaining how some members of his country were a threat to Malich's own. He needed to send a message that such acts of death and murder were not going to be tolerated. Alidon urged him to reconsider the destruction of his people's village, stating that he'd seen the power Triple M. had and would gladly send runners to every Zeborican settlement and tell all of them to what the Federation was willing to do to protect it's citizens.
"I'm sorry, but actions speak louder than words, Alidon." Malich declared resolutely. The Zebra's facial expression didn't shift in the slightest, it appeared he'd expected as much of a reply. Though, before the Zeborican could continue the talks, a black clad griffon swooped down, landing just to the right of the ashen pony.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Malich. But Thanatos has returned with the prototypes you've requested."
Sighing, the stallion thanked his subordinate and told him to summon the dragons to line up in front of the zebras. It was an intimidation tactic, he wanted them all to see it from start to finish. The prototypes were inspired by reports from the loss of the S.S. Judgement, the explosive force of gun powder used in fireworks had destroyed both the rudders, propellers, and pierced a hole in the gas bag large enough to bring the entire thing down almost immediately. Considering how sturdy the materials used in both were, it was apparent that the usage of the powder in fireworks was only the tip of it's capability and limitless destructive potential.
Malich had ordered a separate facility dedicated to weapons development begin experimental tests and enhancements of gun powder. The weaponization of it was far to incredible to ignore, and was going to observe the first field test the project had to offer.
"Chieftan Maleek, please, I beg of you. This is our home, we have braved the great sea to escape the destruction and hate that our land is known for, we just want to live in peace."
Malich could appreciate what he was being told. Isn't that what everybody wanted? To live in peace and feel secure and free?
'Then don't destroy the village.'
That wasn't an option, if he wanted the Tal'Derime to stop their cultist actions upon his country, he needed to threaten what the Zebras held dear, the lives of their kin.
'But you're not really hurting the Zebras here. Not their physical persons, anyways. So, what's the point of destroying their village with no blood shed? Do you really think the Tal'Derime will see this as anything other than farther encouragement for their actions?'
Malich hoped they would not, but if they did continue, and he did need to take farther actions, the next demonstration would be much more severe and bloody than what was about to happen. He felt bad, he really did. It was likely that the agents who'd summoned the damned weren't even apart of this settlement, but he couldn't ignore the Federalists who were killed by their actions. Hopefully, this would either pressure the Tal'Derime to stop, or have the other Zeborican tribes out them and either kill them or bring them to justice.
The talk continued on, the Zeborican desperately trying to convince Malich to stop what he was about to do, and the Federalist continually explaining why he had to do it. It all really came down to one thing, proof. Claims were easy to dismiss, but a giant crater in the ground where a zeborican village once stood? That was a reality very hard to ignore.
"I understand your position Alidon, however, we wish to live the same. And so long as the Tal'Derime continue to kill and resurrect the ponies of my country and state, we will not be able to do so."
A thunderous roar boomed behind him and all parties turned to see a troop of eight dragons flying straight for them. Malich smirked as the beasts flew above and began to circle. He could hear the zebras behind gasp and yelp with fright, talking amongst themselves and cowering. That was what he needed to see.
One by one, the dragons of Thanatos landed, shaking the earth with each drake that touched the ground. Each dragon bore a harness that held six giant black barrels on them, black barrels with a yellow pony skill and crossbones painted on them. The barrels were massive, easily the size of seven full grown ponies a piece, and that was just in height.
Finally, Golvec was the last to land, unlike the others, his harness held no barrels. "We have come as requested." He looked at the large gathering of zebra and smirked, his amused eyes turning back to his master. "I must say, I knew you were a cold hearted monster, but to gather up all of these wretched zebras in one place in order to kill them? That's almost inequine."
"It would be," Malich agreed, shivering at the thought of such a disgusting act of death. "But I have limits on what I'm willing to do to get my way. The Zeboricans are not to be harmed in any way." He turned and eyed the village down the hill. "On my order, you will lead Thanatos down and destroy their village. My mercenaries have ensured that it was cleared out of any more zebra, leave no buildings left standing."
The ruby drake bowed his head and answered in the affirmative. "On your word."
Nodding, the ashen pony turned back to the Chieftan to finish up what business there was, it was pointless, he was going to blow the entire village into the next century, but he also saw it good policy to always listen to complaints.
To his surprise, and a little horror, Yoganda stood in front of Alidon, her demeanor unsettlingly submissive and pronounced. "Chieftan Maleek, I offer you my daughter, Yoganda. I prey that in your acceptance, you will spare my village."
On the outside the executive merely stood stoically at the offering. On the inside, he was recoiling in complete and utter disgust. How? How could a father put up his own daughter like a common whore like this? Was there no shame to be had!? It took half his strength to resist smacking the Chieftan across the face.
'Don't act all surprised. You know exactly why he's doing this, and to be honest, I can't really blame him. You're about to ruin a lot of lives here, did you think there wouldn't be some last ditch effort to stop you?'
He knew there'd be something, an attack party or a peace offering of some kind, but to offer up a pony for, what he really hoped was marriage, that just didn't set right.
"She is a fine filly. In time, she will grow and bear you many sons and daughters. Her skills in food preparation are well and-"
"No." That caused the chief to flinch, this was not okay. Slavery of any kind was a hot button for Malich. Humane imprisonment, quick deaths, and hard labor were were one thing, but this? This was too much. "You do not own your children as property here. She is not an item to be used for barter, and I would never consider even thinking about it."
His spiteful glare was returned by the Zebra chieftain's, a tense few moments passed as the two sized eachother up. He didn't know what custom it was for Zebra to reject an offering, but if his scowl was any indication, offense was heavily taken. To be fair, though, it was equally given.
Not wanting to be around them any longer, Malich shook his head and motioned for Golvec to lower himself to be mounted. "Thanatos, with me, on my mark drop the bombs!" He barked. In a rush, Golvec flapped his wings and the force of upward momentum overcame the executive as the dragon took to the sky. He looked back to find the other dragons following.
As they approached the village, Malich heard a shrill cry. He squinted his eyes and saw a lone zebra filly standing in the village center. She was crying, saying words that were too far away for him to hear.
'Well, well. Looks like the CCCs missed one.'
It- it didn't matter. The example needed to be made, the bombs would fall.
'Can you do it? You've ordered the capture and detainment of many before, but you ultimately allowed them to live and compensated them for their trouble. You've always projected yourself to play hard ball, making killing seem like something that doesn't bother you, but we both know that's not true. You've taken credit for what dear old dad ordered, knowing that it would boost your reputation. You even fed information to the Liberty Syndicate that you were the one responsible for Thornberry and Windmane's kidnapping, even though you were the one who saw them released. You value the individual liberty of others and punish the guilty for their own failures and aggression, and you know damn well that that filly down there isn't deserving of your scorn.'
Cursing under his breath, the executive pulled on the reigns around Golvec's neck and turned away from the small village before they'd arrived, leading the entire bombing raid banking from their target. It was a life he'd be directly responsible for ending, a life he wouldn't be able to restore. It wasn't her fault she was there, she was just a child. His mercenaries missed one, and since he was their superior, the responsibility of her death would be squarely on his shoulders.
Once a safe distance away, Malich lead the troop down to a small conglomerate of trees and motioned to the others to unload their cargo upon it.