The day had started out as any other in Griffonstone. The mountain top tree settlement was as cold as it ever was. The wooden hovels that served as the resident griffons’ homes were equally as crumbled and rotted as they were the previous day. The ground was littered with the same broken branches and other odds and ends, and the same crusty smell permeated the very air of the once great city.
Gilda had started the day selling scones out of her cart, as she always did, on the days she didn’t have to help Grandpa Gruff man the shop. It had been a slow morning, just like it always was, and Gilda was giving herself a break as she sat against a building with a view of the distant colorless mountains.
“I hear you’re selling scones…” a deep, gruff voice spoke behind her. It was the last one Gilda expected to hear. The last one she wanted to hear.
She stood and turned to face the unwanted visitor. The first thing Gilda noticed was that he had more scars on his large, dark gray body than he did the last time she saw him. She hoped they hurt as much as his absence had hurt her.
“Hey, Dad,” Gilda all but spat the word. “What do you want?”
Her father grinned, but the expression didn’t seem as friendly as he likely intended with the presence of the eyepatch. “To buy a scone, of course!”
Gilda frowned, but ultimately decided that just because she wasn’t happy to see her father didn’t mean she couldn’t still take his bits. The two made their exchange and Godfrey took a bite of the drab pastry.
“So, Gruff’s still trying to bake after all these years?” he asked, adding emphasis on trying.
“Actually, he gave me the recipe.”
Godfrey grunted his acknowledgement. “Well, don’t feel bad. I was never much of a cook myself.” He then gave a nostalgic smile. “Your mother, though? She could cook a mean salmon!”
Gilda’s brow furrowed. The way her father made small talk as if nothing was wrong was quickly making her lose her patience. “What are you doing back here, anyway? Somehow I doubt you suddenly had a craving for Grandpa’s scones on your travels.”
The smile vanished from Godfrey’s beak and the stone hard look she’d grown so accustomed to returned. “Is it so strange for a father to want to see his daughter?”
Gilda clutched the two bits in her talons harder. “It is if he never cared to before.”
“Now Gilda, that’s not fair….”
“Not fair?!” Gilda was clutching the bits so hard now she could feel the soft gold start to bend. “You know what’s not fair? Leaving us to go play mercenary with those Whitewater dweebs! Not sticking around for more than a week after Mom passed! I needed you, asshole!”
Calmly, Godfrey set the half-eaten scone down. “You have every right to be mad at me, Gilda. There’s a lot I should’ve done that I didn’t, but I want to make it up to you. That’s why I’m here. Things have changed since you saw me last. I’m now the Commander of Whitewater’s Equestria division.”
Gilda bristled at the note of pride in her father’s demeanor. “Congratulations. Nice to see you got something good out of abandoning us.”
Her father made no indication that he was affected by the jab. He just looked at Gilda levely as he said, “I should’ve been there for you, I realize that now. But I did not abandon you.” Gilda gave him a questioning look, and Godfrey continued. “How do you think our family paid for your mother’s medical bills? How do you think Grandpa Gruff made ends meet to raise you after she died? How did you think they were able to afford to put you into that Equestrian exchange program when you were a fledgling?”
As her father continued to look at her with that calm stare, Gilda looked away. Her small family hadn’t exactly been well off; at least no more or less than anyone else in Griffonstone. But considering all they’d been through, they were getting along pretty well. Gilda never thought about it before that moment, but by all accounts, her family should have been in crippling debt.
Now it all made sense, yet at the same time, it didn’t.
Griffons were a notoriously greedy species, second only to dragons. Even members of the same family did not share personal wealth lightly. If what her father was saying now was true, she owed him decades worth of debt.
“You can still be mad at me, I won’t hold that against you,” Godfrey continued. “But I want you to hear me out. I came here to make you an offer.”
Finally, Gilda looked back up at him. “What kind of offer?”
“A job,” Godfrey answered. “How much of your Bladewing training do you remember?”
It was law for every griffon to serve a few years in the armed forces when they came of age, and Gilda was no exception. What set Gilda apart from the others was that she also trained to join the Bladewings: Griffonstone’s elite aerial guard. The prestigious force had once served as the personal guard to the griffon king, back when Griffonstone had a king. Gilda could’ve made a good career with the Bladewings, but she ultimately chose to stay and help her grandfather get by.
Even so….
“I still practice whenever I get the chance,” Gilda said, unable to keep the proud look from her features. Evidently, it was in the blood. “I’ve still got it!”
“Then I’d like you to join up with me and Whitewater,” Godfrey said, the beginnings of a smile finally returning to his face. “I’ve been talking with a prospective new employer, and I think I’ve found the opportunity of a lifetime. I want you to be a part of it, Gilda.”
He said the name so warmly, it was almost like she was looking at a completely different griffon from the one she once knew.
“I’ll be in town a few more days. That should give you ample time to make a decision.” Godfrey turned and began to make his way down the street. “I hope I can count on your loyalty.”
Adjusting the simple cloth cloak across her back, Twilight trotted forward along the snowy trail. The icy canyon was protected on the east and west sides by a pair of tall mountains. It was the perfect place for an army to make camp, as it was safe from all but the worst snowstorms of the Frozen North. But that was exactly what she intended to bring down on them.
“Twi! Quit fussin’ with yer cloak!” Applejack chided as the earth pony walked in step beside her. “We’re supposed to be rough an’ tumble sellswords, not fidgety city ponies.”
Applejack wore her own cloak in a way that made Twilight think of the ponchos worn by ponies in those Old West films. Combined with her coincidentally matching Stetson and the assault rifle she had hefted over her shoulder (that she’d borrowed from Caboose), Applejack looked every part the tough mercenary. Twilight levitated a pistol over her shoulder and wore the radio headset Simmons had made for her. She was banking on the fact that the sellswords hadn’t seen her or Applejack in their cloaks earlier that night, as in their haste to escape their attackers, they left them at the watchtower. That, combined with the human weapons they were carrying, would hopefully convince the sellswords she and Applejack were one of them.
They’d already passed a couple of lookouts up on the canyon walls, and none of them had made any effort to stop them. Of course, if everything went south, Twilight doubted they’d be able to get past them very easily.
“Hey! Stop right there!” a voice shouted, and Twilight and Applejack froze. A couple of griffons—one male, one female—approached them with BRs raised in their direction.
“Uh… ahoy there, mateys! Fellow sellswords we be!” Twilight proclaimed.
Applejacked leaned over and whispered through clenched teeth from the corner of her mouth. “Why are ya talkin’ like a pirate?”
Twilight responded in kind, “I don’t know! Caboose kept doing it and it threw me off!”
In hindsight, they should have rehearsed how they were going to interact with the Whitewater soldiers.
“There aren’t any patrols scheduled to return yet, so who are you?” the female griffon asked.
“Like I said, we’re just a couple of mercs.” Twilight reached to adjust her cloak but quickly remembered herself. “That’s right: tough, rough sellswords who don’t bathe on a regular basis, and uh… like to spit for absolutely no reason!”
Twilight tried to work up a loogie to demonstrate, but her mouth was too dry. She’d already committed herself to the action though, and had no choice but to keep trying. The pair of griffons patiently stood there, weapons raised as they gave the continually hocking unicorn perplexed stares. Twilight must have hocked for half a minute before she finally decided to cut her losses and turned her head to spit. The result was more of a spray than a loogie, and Applejack had the misfortune of being caught directly in the line of fire.
For her part, Applejack managed to maintain a calm, stony expression as she reached up and wiped at her cheek. “Don’ mind my associate, here. I keep her around for her spellcasting ability, not her brains.”
The pair of griffons actually seemed to relax somewhat, while Twilight tried not to show just how surprised she was at Applejack’s convincing performance. The griffon and griffoness exchanged hushed words between themselves before turning back to the pair of disguised ponies.
“I don’t know, we’re going to have to check with the outpost captain,” the male griffon said.
“They’re probably the ponies we had scouting out the targets in the Crystal Empire,” a third, bass voice joined the conversation as a muscular male zebra approached from further down the path. He eyed Twilight and Applejack carefully. “Though, I was under the impression they wouldn’t be arriving until morning.”
“Well, uh… we’re early!” Applejack said, scrunching her snout in a way only those who knew her would have recognized as her “lying face”. Despite her concerns about Applejack’s ability to lie, after her own performance, Twilight decided to just leave all the talking to her.
The zebra studied them a moment longer before saying, “Well, Commander Graywing will probably want to hear your report.” The zebra stepped aside, and following his lead, the two griffons did the same. “Go on. He should be at the command tent. He’s questioning a diamond dog that had apparently been captured by the enemy.”
Without thanking him, Applejack strode past and Twilight followed. The icy canyon opened up in front of them, becoming significantly wider as the huge congregation of tents appeared before them. Cook fires and torches dotted the camp, but only a few sellswords were awake at this late hour. When Washington scouted the camp from one of the nearby mountains earlier, he had counted a little over two hundred soldiers down there. Evidently, Graywing had brought along only a handful of Whitewater’s sellswords for this little job, but it was still an overwhelming number for the small group of ponies and humans.
“I have to say, that was a pretty convincing performance back there,” Twilight said once they were out of earshot of the guards. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lie that convincingly before.”
“Well, Twi, that’s probably because at that moment, I almost believed what I was sayin’,” Applejack deadpanned.
With a sheepish grin, Twilight looked away and raised a hoof to her headset, opening up a secure channel with the rest of the team.
“Overwatch, this is Wooden Horse. We’ve entered the enemy camp,” she reported. “How’re things looking from up there?”
“Looks about the same as the last time we checked. Most of them have turned in for the night,” Church’s voice cracked over the radio.
“There’s something else you should be aware of,” Washington’s voice crackled in her ears next. “Remember that herd of wights we encountered in the valley?”
Twilight stopped at the mention of the icy undead ponies, and Applejack gave her a concerned look when she audibly swallowed.
“They’re coming within range of the camp. If your plan succeeds, we may have to make a quick exit after we get Rainbow and Donut.”
Twilight looked around at the few awake sellswords in the camp. None of them had paid her or Applejack any mind yet. “Actually, if the plan works, this could work to our advantage.”
Twilight and Applejack both glanced at the sky. A small vortex of clouds was already taking shape, and already the canyon seemed colder.
“Alright,” Applejack said, adjusting her hat. “Let’s get to work!”
Ever wary of Freelancer patrols, Tucker and Rarity took point as they led their group through the Canterlot Statue Garden. Sarge and Pinkie Pie were right behind them, the latter having discarded the full jungle camo and face paint she’d worn inside the castle (the practical applications of which made no sense to anyone) in favor of a black sneaking suit with night-vision goggles (which considering the rising sun, made just as little sense). Fluttershy, Grif, and Lopez brought up the rear.
The Statue Garden was filled with many interesting stone and marble effigies of ponies and other creatures, one of which depicted what appeared to be some kind of mismatched draconic creature recoiling in fear. For some reason, Rarity and the other ponies gave that statue a wide berth as they passed.
It wasn’t long before they came to the entrance to the Castle Labyrinthe. A few red and pink flags flew beside the green hedge walls.
“Well, at least it isn’t as scary as when Discord was here,” Fluttershy said as they entered the maze. Nevertheless, the little butter pony’s eyes darted back and forth nervously.
“And how the hell are we supposed to find a transmitter in this place?” Tucker asked.
“That’s easy! Don’t you know how to navigate mazes?” Grif asked. “Just follow the left wall!”
“Eso no va a ayudarnos a encontrar el transmisor (That won’t help us find the transmitter),” Lopez stated.
“Well, my friends and I have navigated this maze before,” Rarity said. “And that was when Discord was changing it around with his magic. Now that it’s a normal hedge maze, we should have an easier time searching it.”
Even so, the group spent some time wandering the leafy passages of the labyrinthe. The morning sun had nearly risen fully in the sky when they came to a flat, open “room” of the maze. In the center sat a single rectangular device with a tiny blinking red light.
“So… that it?” Sarge asked.
“Well, it’s future-y, blinking, and in the middle of the maze, so… probably?” Pinkie said.
Tucker tensed up a little. It wasn’t every day you looked at something that could summon a high-powered projectile from outer space capable of leveling a city.
“Well, let’s take care of business!” Sarge took a step forward and reached for the transmitter.
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, mate.”
At the sound of the smarmy British accent, the whole party whirled around and found a familiar Freelancer in white armor standing where they’d just entered.
“One wrong button press could bring this whole place down!” the Freelancer said with a chuckle.
“Wyoming…” Tucker growled, reaching for his energy sword, but Wyoming held up a hand.
“Ah ah, why don’t you just stay still and try not to hurt yourself,” he said as more gray armored Freelancer soldiers poured into the maze, completely surrounding the smaller group of ponies and sim troopers. “There’s a good lad!”
The others raised their weapons at the squad of Recovery Agents surrounding them, and Rarity’s horn started to glow. Tucker hoped she had some kind of spell ready to protect them in case Wyoming’s troops opened fire.
It was at that moment that Pinkie Pie inexplicably started snickering. “What?” she said to the others’ questioning stares. “He has a silly voice! It’s like a Trottingham accent, only bad!”
“Wait, how in Equestria did you know we were going to be here?” Rarity asked. Now that she mentioned it, Tucker was curious about that point as well. As far as he knew, they’d made it through the whole castle without detection.
Rarity’s question was answered when another soldier in gray armor with red detail on their helmet and shoulder pads stepped out from among the rank and file agents of Project Freelancer and stood beside Wyoming. Tucker recognized the armor as belonging to the woman they’d interrogated for the transmitter’s location.
“A little bird told me you lot were here and had figured out where we’d hidden our transmitter,” Wyoming said with no shortage of smugness.
Tucker let out a frustrated growl. After getting the information they’d needed from Wyoming’s subordinate, they’d taken the precaution of knocking her out and tying her up. Additionally, Tex had assured them she wouldn’t be a problem. Evidently, neither precaution had helped.
“Now, tell you what. I’m a charitable man,” Wyoming continued. “Why don’t you all lower your weapons. Have Ms. Fabulous there put out her headlight, and I’ll let your little incursion slide. There’s plenty of room in the castle dungeons, and Canterlot’s insurance agency won’t have to go bankrupt!”
Between surrender and letting the whole city go up in smoke, the former seemed like the better option. There was just one problem: as soon as they stopped pointing their weapons at him, Wyoming had no reason to keep them alive. Tucker decided his best bet was to stall for the time being.
“Hey, Wyoming. Threatening an entire city full of innocents is kind of a dick move. Even compared to your usual shit,” Tucker said. “Tell me, do you really believe you’re doing the right thing, or is the money just too good?”
“Eh. A little from column A, a little from column B,” Wyoming answered with a shrug. “I don’t trust aliens. They’re only good when they’re dead, or otherwise squirming under humanity’s boot. But also Project Freelancer always makes sure I’m well compensated!”
“Right. Asshole. Guess I should have figured it was that simple!”
“Indeed. Now, are you finished stalling?” Wyoming raised his rifle towards the group. “Or shall today’s weather forecast call for a slight chance of MAC rounds?”
Tucker exchanged a look with the men and ponies beside him. They were in a bad way, and all of them knew it. As much as Tucker hated to admit it, the best course of action was to simply lay their weapons down and surrender. Even if Wyoming and his troops put a bullet in each of them afterwards, at least the city might be spared.
But before anyone could react, the captain beside Wyoming suddenly grabbed the sidearm from his waist and struck him in the back of the head with it, knocking the Freelancer to the ground. Then with lightning fast motions, she proceeded to use the magnum to put a bullet in each of the Recovery Agents closest to her before tossing it into the air and bringing out an assault rifle. As she fired on the Freelancer soldiers across the maze, Tucker and the others took the opportunity to add to the chaos, firing out at the gray troops around them. Most of them fell back into other parts of the maze while a timely magical shield from Rarity protected the group from the few that stayed to return fire.
Wyoming groaned as he rolled over on the ground. “Osgoode, what the devil’s gotten into you?”
A small, transparent black figure appeared in the air before Wyoming. “I have, of course!”
“Well, well. Dear old Tex….” Without another word, Wyoming swept out a leg and tripped the possessed Captain Osgoode.
As Wyoming hopped to his feet, the Reds, Rarity and Pinkie Pie all attempted to open fire on him, but something was wrong. Suddenly, the entire world around them seemed to slow down as all sound faded away. The bullets from the Reds’ weapons seemed to crawl out of their barrels like molasses. Rarity and Pinkie’s faces were frozen in concentration as they launched an attack from their horn and party cannon respectively, while Fluttershy lay unmoving on the ground, her hooves covering her ears.
The only one not slowed down was Wyoming, who casually stepped out of the way of the slow moving bullets. After giving them all a mock salute, the white-armored Freelancer took off, disappearing around a corner of the hedge maze. All at once, the world started moving again and sound returned. The Reds, Rarity and Pinkie Pie’s attacks all hit the air where Wyoming had previously been standing.
“What?! Where’d he go?” Grif exclaimed.
“Did he vanish?” Rarity asked.
“He used his stupid time distortion unit!” Tucker exclaimed furiously. The only reason Tucker even noticed the space-time anomaly in the first place was thanks to his energy sword granting him some kind of immunity for reasons to this day he didn’t fully understand.
“So, do you guys have a plan?” Tex asked, sitting up.
“Hey, you’re the badass super soldier A.I., not us!” Tucker exclaimed.
The sound of urgent shouting and rushing footsteps indicated that the rest of the Freelancer troops were regrouping and moving in for a counterattack. Climbing to Osgoode’s feet, Tex fired at them through the walls of the hedge maze.
“That may be, but… that doesn’t mean I should lead,” Tex said. “Crazy as this may sound, I have faith in you. All of you!”
Tucker looked from her to the rest of his group. He was still perplexed at why Tex wasn’t taking charge of the situation like usual, but the sound of more approaching Recovery Agents forced him to forget it.
He turned to Sarge.“Quick! Grab the transmitter!”
“On it!” Sarge replied grabbing the device off the ground. The labyrinth walls suddenly erupted with gunfire as the Freelancer troops returned fire, forcing the group to retreat.
“Everyone else, after Wyoming!”
“W-why do we need to do that?” asked a trembling Fluttershy.
“Because,” Tucker said, activating his sword. “If he manages to escape the city, he’s going to bring the whole thing down!”
Gilda glanced over at her father as he silently watched the single diamond dog leave the command tent. Gilda was never much for frivolous luxuries, but she could definitely get used to the command tent if she decided to follow in her father’s pawprints one day. It was significantly more spacious than the average soldier’s tent, with enough room for a proper bed in place of a simple cot or sleeping bag. A table dominated the center of the tent, on it a map of the Frozen North, complete with small clay figurines representing their forces and that of the enemy. Currently there was only one of the latter on the table. The heating enchantments in place also made their time in the Frozen North infinitely more tolerable.
Godfrey stared after the diamond dog with a contemplative scowl on his one-eyed face. Gilda knew he wasn’t angry at the diamond dog himself, but rather the news he had brought from within the enemy’s camp. If what he said was true, the enemy had decided to press on toward the ruins they were after and leave behind the hostages.
“So they didn’t take the bait after all,” Godfrey mused. “Smart fish.”
So much for your friends, Dash, Gilda thought, but the vindication somehow only made her feel worse. After all, it wasn’t like she could say she was any better.
“Tell the outpost captains to be extra vigilant,” her father ordered. “Just because the Freelancer isn’t coming back doesn’t mean the others will be compliant.”
“Yes sir.” Gilda moved to leave the tent but stopped as she reached for the flap. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
Godfrey finally allowed himself to smile a little. “You know you don’t have to do that when it’s just us, Gilda.”
Gilda turned away from the cold world outside her father’s tent and looked back at him. “Assuming they don’t take the bait, what’s our next move?”
“Track them down and ambush them again,” Godfrey answered. “Maybe Shimmer can tell us more about these ruins they’re after. Might be a good place to set a trap.”
Gilda nodded, but that wasn’t what she was interested in finding out. “And… what about our hostages?”
Godfrey studied her curiously with his one good eye. “What about them?”
“Well… if they’re not useful as bargaining chips, shouldn’t we let them go?”
With a sigh, Godfrey shook his head. “Sunset Shimmer’s instructions are clear: aside from the three she wants alive, the rest need to be stopped from reaching the ruins at all costs.”
Gilda wasn’t sure why the statement filled her with such dread. She was aware of the implications ever since she realized Rainbow Dash was one of the targets, but it never fully clicked with her until now. Still, Rainbow had proved to be a lousy friend over the last couple of years. Thus, it didn’t make sense for Gilda to be so afraid of what might soon happen to her.
“What’s your interest in that pegasus, exactly?” Godfrey asked, stepping closer to his daughter. “You know her, don’t you?”
Seeing no point in saying otherwise, Gilda nodded. “We used to be friends. We met each other in flight camp.”
Just saying it brought all of the memories of that time back. Gilda had been a fledgling no more than eight when her mother had enrolled her in the Equestrian exchange program. Young Gilda had been excited at first; the pegasus flight camps in Cloudsdale were supposed to be the best of the best. But then Gilda arrived to find herself a stranger in a strange land. She remembered how scared and homesick she’d felt when she looked around and saw nothing but ponies. How lonely and frightening those first days had been.
Then she’d met Rainbow Dash, and suddenly her miserable time at flight camp had become the best months of her young life. It was thanks to her that Gilda was able to forget about how much she missed home and could just enjoy her time at camp.
“Used to?” Her father’s voice jolted Gilda from her reverie. Suddenly feeling something stinging her eyes, Gilda grunted in frustration and wiped at them. “You seem pretty conflicted about someone you used to be friends with.”
“It’s... complicated,” Gilda finally muttered. “We might not exactly get along anymore, but… it’s kinda hard to just forget about years of friendship, y’know?”
After a moment of silent thought, Godfrey came to some decision and grunted, “Follow me. I want to show you something.”
Godfrey walked past Gilda with a purpose, exiting the warm comfort of the commander’s tent. With some hesitation, Gilda followed. The air outside seemed even colder than it had been before. The wind had picked up, and despite her layers of fur, feathers and clothing, Gilda thought she could feel its frosty fingers penetrate her skin as they reached for her heart. She could see a vortex of clouds overhead; evidently a storm was coming.
“Gilda, you’ve been with my company for almost a month now,” Godfrey said, returning Gilda’s attention to him. “Have you figured out what my endgame is yet?”
She thought it had simply been to acquire these “human weapons” for Whitewater Command. However, the more she learned and the more she thought about it, the more things didn’t add up. As Gilda understood, only a few of the sellswords in the company were actually on Whitewater’s payroll. The rest were outside hires. Suddenly, Gilda understood, and she couldn’t believe it had taken her this long.
“Command has no idea we’re even doing this job, do they?”
Godfrey smiled. “That’s my girl. Now, can you figure out why we’re operating under Command’s nose?”
Gilda clenched her beak as she thought. “You want to keep all of the human weapons for yourself?”
Godfrey gave a single bark of laughter. “Good guess, but no.” When Gilda couldn’t quite figure it out, Godfrey put a talon over her shoulder and pointed across the camp. “Do you see that minotaur there?”
Following where her father was pointing, Gilda spotted a large white minotaur sitting cross-legged in front of a dying cookfire, his body covered in scars and warlike tattoos. His huge arms were folded across his chest and his head was dipped forward, eyes closed. Gilda wasn’t sure whether he was meditating, sleeping or just resting, but she remembered seeing him among the company since they started operating in the Frozen North. It was strange; most minotaurs had too much love for their clan and country to become soldiers of fortune, but then her father explained.
“That right there is General Ovid, who’s here on behalf of the Minotaur King,” Godfrey explained as Gilda started putting the pieces together. “King Meinon is apparently willing to pay a very hefty price for these new weapons. Enough to set a griffon for life!”
Godfrey returned his gaze to Gilda and looked her square in the eye. “You understand now, don’t you? With your share alone, you and Gruff both will be able to finally get away from Griffonstone and live like royalty! And….” All at once, her father’s eternally hard gaze softened. “We could be a family again, if you’ll have me back in your life.”
For the first time in her life, Gilda had no sarcastic remark or dry insult ready. For the first time, she did not know how to respond. In truth, it’s what she’d always wanted. Not just to leave Griffonstone, but to finally have a real family again. Instead of answering her father’s question, she merely filed it away for later as something else occurred to her.
“But… won’t Command eventually find out that you went behind their back with this? Won’t they come after you?”
Gilda, of course, knew all about how Whitewater handled sellswords who tried to double-cross them; in their business, dealing with betrayal was a necessity. Any sellsword that tried to run away with the full profit from a job was promptly hunted down and eliminated. And if that was not possible, Whitewater would try to get to them through their loved ones. She didn’t want to think about what would happen to her if Godfrey went through with his plan, but apparently he did, as he gave her a grin.
“Not if I come after them first.” Seeing the confused and concerned look on his daughter’s face, Godfrey continued. “These ‘guns’ aren’t the only thing we’re getting for doing this job. Once the priority targets are in our custody and the rest are dead, Sunset Shimmer is going to give us first access to the new weapon she’s making as a form of field testing.
“I don’t have the details just yet, but whatever it is will make us faster, stronger and all around more effective in combat. With that kind of power, we can ensure the Whitewater higher-ups won’t bother either of us.” Godfrey held a talon under Gilda’s chin and raised her head to meet his eyes. “But you must understand, this will only be possible if we complete this job fully.”
Gilda knew what he was trying to say, and before she even knew what she was doing, her beak started moving. “But we don’t have to kill them! Just keep them from reaching those ruins, right?” Godfrey gave her a disapproving glare, but Gilda couldn’t keep herself from continuing. “Or… we could just make Sunset Shimmer think we’ve killed them!”
“Gilda, I know this must be difficult for you, but you need to choose where your loyalty lies; there can be no middle ground,” Godfrey said sternly. “Can I count on your loyalty, Gilda?”
Gilda just looked down at her snow covered talons. The snow seemed much deeper and colder than it had been a minute ago. “You can count on me, dad.”
A brief moment passed before Godfrey smiled warmly. “I knew I could.” Then to Gilda’s surprise, her father wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. “That’s my girl.”
Godfrey had always maintained a stoic, professional demeanor with her even before they started working together. He’d never exactly been a very physically affectionate father, even when Gilda was just a fledgling. She never realized just how badly she needed this until that very moment. Snuggling tighter in her father’s embrace, Gilda noticed a few of his new scars, and wondered whether they had something to do with his sudden new outlook on life.
The moment ended when the radio inside the command tent crackled on and a voice urgently addressed Godfrey by rank. Ending the embrace, Godfrey marched back into his tent and suddenly he was the stoic mercenary commander again.
Commander Graywing picked up the receiver and growled, “Report.”
“Sir, that herd of wights we spotted an hour ago?” the voice on the other end said, trembling. “It just changed directions! It’s heading for the camp!”
“Stand by. Reinforcements are en route.”
A dark purple unicorn stallion with large round glasses abruptly entered and saluted, panting like he’d just run a marathon.
“Star Storm, your timing is perfect!” Graywing exclaimed. “That herd of wights is headed toward our position. Rouse the camp and tell them to switch to incendiary rounds.”
The unicorn mage took a moment to catch his breath before speaking. “Uh… t-that’s actually what I was about to tell you, sir. Most of the camp is already awake.”
“Then get them moving!”
“Yeah, about that… we have a problem.”
With an aggravated growl, Graywing grabbed his sniper rifle and made to leave the tent, but paused to address Gilda before he left. “Something doesn’t feel right. Gilda, stay here and await further orders.”
“Yes, sir!” Gilda saluted, and before she knew it she was alone in the commander’s tent.
With nothing but her thoughts for company, she quickly found them turning to her recent conversation with her father and a certain rainbow-maned pegasus. Soon, she would have everything she ever wanted.
So why did it feel so wrong?
Twilight Sparkle looked on at the chaos she and Applejack had created. The mercenary camp was in an uproar as sellswords of every species and creed argued and fought within the raging ice storm.
Setting them against each other had been surprisingly easy. The myriad of different species and factions within the contingent already hated and distrusted each other enough. All Twilight and Applejack had to do was steal a few precious looking belongings from each group, wake them up, and allow them to place the blame on the others. This resulted in a chain reaction of arguing and violence as the two infiltrating ponies awoke more groups of sellswords to tell them about the fight breaking out. Ponies, griffons, and diamond dogs were now brawling in the center of the camp while Twilight and Applejack watched from a safe distance away.
“Y’know, it’s the simple things in life you treasure,” Applejack said serenely as she watched an earth pony buck a griffon in the chest only to be beaten down a moment later by an especially large diamond dog.
More than several sellswords were already encased in blocks of ice as the storm raged on, and Twilight could hear the trumpeting wails of the Windigoes above. She and Applejack were kept relatively warm by the fiery pink heart just above their heads. The Fires of Friendship they’d forged the other day were still burning strong, and in a few hours would thaw out the mercenaries who had been unfortunate enough to be frozen solid. Even they didn’t deserve to turn into wights.
A distant ethereal shriek reminded Twilight that a herd of those very creatures were on their way, and Commander Graywing’s sudden arrival was the two mares’ cue to make their exit. The large griffon commander swooped down and raised his deep voice above the din, silencing it at once. Twilight and Applejack slipped away as Graywing started to restore order to his ranks and began mobilizing them to engage the approaching wights.
Twilight reached up to her headset as they entered a more secluded part of the camp. “Okay, I think we kept them distracted for a decent amount of time. How close are you?”
Before receiving a reply, Twilight and Applejack rounded a corner and found themselves face to face with a pack of diamond dogs. Twilight was prepared to continue their sellsword charade when one of the dogs’ eyes widened. Twilight recognized him all too late.
“It’s thems!” the little diamond dog exclaimed, pointing a paw at the two mares. “The bad ponies with the armored creature that hurts my faces!”
The rest of his pack all raised their rifles while Twilight and Applejack swallowed nervously. Before any of their canine enemies could pull the trigger, a small round object flew over the ponies’ heads toward them.
The little diamond dog gasped. “BALL!”
With impressive agility, the small diamond dog leapt into the air and caught the thrown object in his mouth, bringing it back to his comrades with a wagging tail. Twilight and Applejack immediately noticed what the “ball” really was and took a few steps back. The two ponies shielded their eyes right as the grenade detonated, wincing at the blast. When they looked again, a smoking black crater was where the diamond dogs once stood. At the sound of footsteps in the snow behind them, Twilight and Applejack turned and were greeted by the sight of two familiar blue figures.
“Ah! See, I told you he knew ‘fetch!’” Caboose exclaimed. “And look! He’s really good at ‘play dead!’ I didn’t even ask him to do that! That is a good dog.”
“Caboose, you are probably the single most terrifying person I know,” Church stated.
“Aw, well I appreciate that, Church!”
“Thanks fer the save, fellas,” Applejack greeted, giving the two Blues a nod. After some consideration, Applejack returned Caboose’s assault rifle, ultimately deciding he could make better use of it than she. Evidently Applejack had forgotten about how Rainbow Dash’s wing had gotten injured.
“Where’s Wash and Simmons?” Twilight asked.
A distant explosion answered her question. The pair of ponies and the two Blues ran past tents and torches until they came across an alarming scene. Washington and Simmons were on the ground struggling to stand while a large white minotaur reloaded a rocket launcher a few feet away. Markings covered his upper body, and Twilight couldn’t tell which were scars and which were tattoos. Without a second thought, Twilight ran forward while Church and Caboose opened fire. Unfortunately, between Church’s aim and Caboose’s range, none of their shots found their mark.
Washington was the first to get back on his feet, and wasted no time drawing his combat knife and throwing it into the minotaur’s shoulder. He then immediately charged forward, deciding he’d rather face the towering minotaur in close combat than risk taking a hit from its rocket launcher. Drawing the knife from the minotaur’s shoulder, Washington slashed it across the chest a couple of times before going in to stab its neck, but his opponent merely raised an arm, barely wincing as the blade sank in. The minotaur followed up with a heavy backhand, knocking Washington to the ground before pulling the knife out of its arm and tossing it aside.
Twilight just kept running towards them, her concern for her friends overriding any capacity to form a decent plan of action. Seeing that Simmons still hadn’t recovered from the first blast, the minotaur turned towards him. The maroon soldier was crawling toward his BR desperately, but the minotaur had already raised his rocket launcher.
“SIMMONS!” Without thinking, Twilight dove on top of Simmons and fired up her horn. She shut her eyes as she heard the sound of a rocket firing and winced as it impacted.
But she and Simmons remained unharmed, protected by a dome of purple magic. The minotaur glared furiously at them, but was so focused on the pair he didn’t notice the little orange earth pony run up to him. Applejack gave his right leg a good hard buck, bringing the minotaur down on one knee with a sickening snap. Then Washington leapt onto his back, reaching around to drive his knife into the minotaur’s neck over and over again. Clutching its bleeding neck, the minotaur tried to stand on wobbling legs as Washington kept stabbing.
“Hey there, buddy,” Church stated, standing a foot away from the large white minotaur with his sniper rifle inches from its face. Church pulled the trigger and their towering opponent fell over dead. “Good. If I’d missed that shot, I’d have been fucking pissed. I had the one-liner and everything!”
“What kinda one-liner is ‘hey there, buddy’?” Applejack asked.
“A good one if you knew what I was going for. Don’t question my creative genius!”
Realizing they were safe for the moment, Twilight looked down at Simmons. “You okay?”
He himself realizing he wasn’t dead, Simmons climbed to his feet. “Yeah…” he answered before glancing at the rocket launcher in the snow beside the dead minotaur. “Hmm….”
Walking over to their felled enemy, Simmons picked up its weapon and hefted it over his shoulder. “Hey Twilight, you think this suits me?”
“Not really,” Twilight said with a wry grin, just happy that her friend wasn’t dead. “But you should keep it anyway. You could make it work!”
Catching his breath, Washington put away his combat knife and picked his Battle Rifle up out of the snow. “Okay. Have you figured out where they’re keeping Rainbow and Donut?”
Applejack turned towards the northern section of the camp. “I think the commander was holed up in this direction. Our friends probably aren’t too far away.”
Without saying anything else, the group double-timed it in the direction Applejack indicated.
Within her bonds, Rainbow Dash just sighed as she tried to ignore Donut. She had been certain that the man would understand why she was so hesitant to forgive Gilda after seeing for himself what a jerk she was. But against all odds, the pink-clad soldier kept encouraging her to have an open mind.
“But what if she wasn’t working with our enemies?” Donut asked, stubbornly continuing the debate that Rainbow had grown tired of ages ago. “What if she helped us?”
“Donut, hypothetical questions are great when you’re just playing ‘A Million Bits, But...’” Rainbow said. “But they don’t exactly do us any good.”
“C’mon, Rainbow! Indulge me just a little bit here,” Donut pleaded. “If Gilda turns out to have a complete change of heart, don’t you owe it to her to at least give her a chance?”
Rainbow opened her mouth, but didn’t respond. It was certainly a possibility, if Luna’s transformation from Nightmare Moon was any indication. Rainbow Dash had been ready enough to accept the Princess of the Night as a friend when she had her change of heart, and she’d never even been friends with Luna before. Still, it was nothing more than a pipe dream as far as her old friend was concerned.
“Oh hey! Speak of the devil!” Donut suddenly exclaimed.
Rainbow craned her head to look behind her and saw the griffoness in question standing there. She was alone, and had immediately raised a claw to her beak with an urgent “Shh….”
“What do you want?” Rainbow asked.
Gilda stepped closer and began untying the ropes holding Rainbow and Donut to the wooden post. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” she whispered. “I’m helping you get outta here, dingus!”
“Why?”
Gilda looked at her with uncharacteristic urgency. “Because these sellswords are going to fucking kill you, and….” Gilda closed her eyes and took a breath. “Look. I don’t want you to die, okay?”
“Aww... so tsundere…” Donut practically swooned.
Rainbow ignored him and gave Gilda a hard glare. “Don’t think this changes anything.”
“It does for me,” Gilda said, glaring right back. “I’m giving up everything to help you! The least you could do is show a little gratitude.”
Rainbow was ready to give her something else that rhymed with gratitude as Gilda finished untying her, but a gentle nudge from Donut made her think twice about it.
“Fine. Thanks Gilda.” Rainbow was about to end it there, but she was suddenly compelled to keep going. “For the record, I’ve read every letter you sent me. I don’t know what the ‘everything’ is that you’re giving up, but you’ll be alright. You’ve always been tough!”
To Rainbow Dash’s surprise, Gilda gave her a genuine smile. “Heh. Guess you’re not wrong all the time.”
For one brief moment, Rainbow forgot all about her animosity towards Gilda, and it was like they were in flight camp again. The moment passed as quickly as it came as the sound of wings heralded another’s arrival. Rainbow looked to see Commander Graywing standing there, flanked by a unicorn with large glasses and a donkey. Eyes widening, Gilda turned and reflexively saluted.
“Ah, Gilda. I see my orders to move the prisoners have reached you,” Graywing said moving closer with his troops.
It was at that moment that Rainbow Dash noticed the distant gunfire.
“W-what’s going on, sir?” Gilda asked, noticeably nervous.
“We’re under attack,” Commander Graywing answered. “The Windigoes and the wights were just a diversion used by our targets. They’re here. They've already killed General Ovid.”
Gilda spared a nervous glance in Rainbow’s direction. “What are we doing with them?”
“Star Storm, Luis and I are retreating with them up the northern mountain. Gilda, I need you to rally everyone that isn’t defending the western front from wights and meet us up there.”
Gilda nodded, but lingered, glancing back and forth from Rainbow to her father.
“Do you have some sort of question, Gilda?” Graywing asked, giving her a stern look.
With some hesitation, Gilda nodded. “You’re not… planning on using them as hostages again, are you?”
Graywing studied her carefully. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”
“Well… I’m just not sure it’s going to work,” Gilda said. “They called your bluff last time.”
“I know,” Graywing said as his subordinates began to lead Rainbow and Donut away. “This time I don’t plan on bluffing.”
Panting, Tucker skidded to a stop and dove for cover behind a nearby low hedge. He could still hear the sounds of battle a fair distance away as Tex kept the rest of the Recovery Agents preoccupied at the labyrinth. Just ahead of him was the western garden, where a Pelican dropship sat with its rear bay open. Tucker had spotted it on their way to the hedge maze and figured this was where their target was headed. Sure enough, Agent Wyoming jogged around a corner a fair distance away and made for the dropship.
Tucker didn’t go after him quite yet though. The plan he’d formulated with the others simply required him to keep his head low as he used the cover of the hedges and various statues to sneak around closer. Grif and Rarity were the first to confront the Freelancer, running out from behind a couple of statues to fire on him with a BR and a few simple offensive spells respectively.
As expected, Wyoming slowed down time to avoid Grif and Rarity’s onslaught, but Tucker kept sneaking along the outer garden at the same speed, his sword protecting him from the temporal distortion. Once Wyoming was clear of Grif and Rarity’s shots, he returned time to its normal pace and fired a couple of shots at them with his sniper rifle. The first shot knocked the BR from Grif’s hands as the man cried out in pain, and the second barely missed Rarity as she dove for cover.
Believing the path to his getaway vehicle clear, Wyoming turned to continue his sprint but was immediately beset by Pinkie Pie.
“Alley-OOP!” she cried as she dropped on Wyoming from… somewhere. Tucker didn’t really care how exactly the pink pony did what she did as long as she pulled off her part of the plan. With a grunt, Wyoming threw Pinkie off of him, but not before she grabbed his helmet and yanked it off of his head, revealing his slightly aged face, graying black hair, and matching mustache.
“Come now, dear. That color really doesn’t suit you. Give it here!” Wyoming growled, taking a step towards Pinkie Pie to grab his headgear from her.
“I can’t just give it to you, silly! That’s not how the game works!” Pinkie exclaimed.
“What game?”
“KEEP AWAY!” Pinkie shouted gleefully, tossing the helmet high over Wyoming’s head.
Wyoming ran to catch it, but it was promptly snatched out of the air by a tiny butter blur. Fluttershy delicately fumbled with the helmet for a few brief moments, nearly dropping it before clutching it tightly to her chest as she hovered in the air out of Wyoming’s reach.
The Freelancer let out a frustrated growl. “Give that back now, you wretched little creature!”
Fluttershy let out an ”eep” as Wyoming raised his sniper rifle up at her. The yellow pegasus flew away as fast as her little wings could carry her, narrowly avoiding a sniper shot. Pinkie Pie fled in the other direction.
With Wyoming effectively deprived of his means of manipulating time, Tucker leapt out from the cover of the low hedge and charged forward, his energy sword raised. Wyoming was faster though, and whirled around to catch Tucker by the arm just before he managed to bring his sword through the top of the mustachioed man’s head. With a dark chuckle, Wyoming twisted Tucker’s sword arm around his back before delivering a sharp kick to the back of his leg. Tucker cried out in pain as he fell to his knees while Wyoming yanked his twisted arm upwards, pulling it out of its socket with a sharp crack.
“Ow! Fucking son of a bitch!”
Wyoming followed up with another kick, sending Tucker face first to the ground. “Ah, poor Tucker…” he tsked. “Perhaps you should’ve stayed in that miserable little canyon. You’re a tad out of your league here, wouldn’t you say? Perhaps the Reds are more your on your level.”
“If that’s the case…” the gruff southern drawl drew Wyoming and Tucker’s gazes to the ship, where Sarge and Lopez stood blocking Wyoming’s path forward, “He’s still leagues above you!”
“Cabron!” Lopez snarled.
Wyoming’s brow lowered while an aggravated growl escaped his throat. Without saying a word, Wyoming raised his sniper and put the last round in his magazine straight through Lopez’s head. The brown robot’s body collapsed to the ground, thoroughly shocking Sarge beside him. Wyoming took advantage of his distraction immediately, charging forward and knocking Sarge on his ass with the butt of his now empty sniper rifle.
With nothing else standing in his way, Wyoming climbed aboard the Pelican via the rear bay. Fighting the searing pain in his right arm, Tucker struggled to push himself up with his left. His other arm hung limply from his side at an unsettling angle.
“Wyoming… wait!” Tucker called out, wincing from the pain.
Wyoming turned and looked down at him from the rear bay of the dropship. “Oh? Do you have some final words before you and the rest of this place is blasted to oblivion?”
Tucker just looked the English Freelancer in the eye. “You don’t have to do this.”
Rarity appeared beside Tucker, giving his dislocated arm a concerned glance. Grif was right behind her, nursing a hand that had a fair amount of blood oozing out of it.
“Is the money you’re getting really worth all the innocent lives you’ll be extinguishing? What about all of your soldiers that are still here?” Rarity asked. “How will you live with yourself if you go through with this?”
“To answer your question, my dear: In a mansion on a tropical island. Perhaps with my own outdoor movie theater?” Wyoming said with a grin.
“We’re giving you a chance to do the right thing, asshole!” Tucker grunted. “If you do this, you might find yourself regretting it for the rest of your life!”
“Pssh. The right thing is so subjective,” Wyoming scoffed. A bitter edge then entered his tone, and Tucker thought he almost looked sad. “Do you know why the Freelancers all fell apart? We all had different ideas of what the right thing is. I decided long ago that the only morality worth a damn in this world is what the right thing is for me!”
Sarge and Tucker climbed to their feet as Grif, Rarity, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy all moved towards the Pelican. Wyoming pulled out a pair of grenades and held one in each hand. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a paycheck to earn! Cheerio!”
Wyoming tossed the grenades to the ground outside the Pelican, forcing Tucker and the others to dive for cover. When the explosions cleared, the ponies and humans looked up to see Wyoming’s dropship rising into the sky, the rear bay closing. Tucker tried to reach for his BR but his right arm stubbornly remained limp. The others could only helplessly watch as the Pelican took off and began heading for the horizon.
It was barely a few moments later before the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps heralded Tex’s arrival.
“The castle’s guards are rounding up what’s left of the Recovery Agents,” she reported through Osgoode’s helmet. “Where’s Wyoming?”
The others only had to glance behind them where the Pelican was rapidly shrinking into the distance.
“Dammit! Did you at least deactivate the transmitter?”
Sarge crouched to pick up his shotgun. “Well… not exactly….”
The atmosphere was tense on the Mother of Invention’s command bridge. The command crew was aware of the situation down in the mountainside palace since Agent Wyoming gave his first report. At the helm, the Director of Project Freelancer gazed out the massive viewport to the planet they were orbiting. Green and blue with the occasional cloud coverage stretched on below while a field of stars dominated the space above.
The Director maintained a strong outer appearance for the rest of the command crew as he always had. Inside, Dr. Church hoped the situation below would be resolved as cleanly as possible, and there would be no need to follow through with his threat.
“Agent Wyoming just reported in, sir!” the officer manning the communications console reported from the bridge’s lower deck. “He has confirmed that the enemy has retaken their capital building and advises immediate action.”
Letting out a slow sigh through his nose, Dr. Church closed his eyes. “And here I thought you were smarter than this, Celestia,” he muttered. “How very disappointing.”
“Weapon systems are online, Director,” FILSS reported.
Beside him, the Counselor looked up from his datapad. “What are your orders, sir?”
The Director had made his threat clear. To back down now would invalidate everything he was trying to achieve. To Hell with her then, he thought bitterly. If she’s going to test me like this, then I’m going to show her the consequences of defying me!
The Director looked up and addressed the cheery shipboard A.I. “Do it, FILSS.”
The planetary landscape out the viewport shifted as the A.I. moved the ship in position. Carefully, the targeting laser lined up with the pony capital’s location below.
“Target locked,” FILSS stated.
No turning back now. “Fire!” The Director ordered.
“Firing main cannon.”
The Pelican shook as Wyoming increased its acceleration. Today had been a very good day. He’d gotten to administer a bit of his own brand of justice on Private Tucker and the others for his humiliation in Blood Gulch, and had put those pathetic pony creatures in their place. Switching off his secure line with the Mother of Invention, Wyoming had half a mind to turn the ship around so he could watch the fireworks.
That train of thought was infuriatingly interrupted by a flashing red light on one of his consoles, accompanied by a series of beeping sounds that just screamed “warning”. Wyoming gave his mustache a few puzzled strokes. If he wasn’t mistaken, that particular klaxon meant that the enemy had weapons lock on his ship, but that was impossible! Clearly it was a system malfunction, as the only thing even remotely close with the capability to lock onto him was the…
Oh dear.
Switching the Pelican to auto-pilot, Wyoming stood and made his way from the pilot’s seat to the rear bay. The rows of seats along the walls were empty—it wasn’t like he had time to pick up any of the other Freelancer personnel—but he got the sense that something was there that shouldn’t be. Hearing a second beeping sound underneath the warnings being broadcast by the ship, Wyoming went to one of the overhead compartments and rummaged around. After tossing aside a duffel bag and a medkit, Wyoming found something that made his heart stop.
He pulled the rectangular object down and found himself looking at a very familiar device with a single blinking red light.
“Bollocks,” Wyoming said as he held the orbital strike transmitter in his hand.
Gazing out the rear bay window, Wyoming looked at the city resting on the mountainside and sighed. It was rather beautiful, he had to admit. Still, it would have been cathartic to see it fall.
The beeping of the device in his hand increased in rate until it became a steady tone.
“Well played….”
Tucker, Rarity, Grif, Fluttershy, Sarge, Pinkie Pie, and Tex all stood side by side as they looked out over the edge of Canterlot’s western garden across the vast Equestrian plains. Each of them were fixated on the tiny speck in the distance that was Wyoming’s Pelican dropship. In the blink of an eye, a mighty blast pierced through the heavens and obliterated the distant speck as if God himself had smote it down.
“I have to admit, that was very impressive," Rarity said. "Though, I confess I am a little uncomfortable with just letting him be blown out of the sky like that. Even if he was a foul ruffian.”
“To be fair, I did warn him he would regret his decision for the rest of his life,” Tucker said, grinning under his helmet. “All thirty seconds of it!”
With that, the group turned away and headed toward the castle. Ahead of them, a platoon of Equestrian Royal Guards were leading away what remained of Project Freelancer’s soldiers in the castle. The royal figure of Princess Celestia stepped out into the garden, a little purple dragon beside her. She spared an appreciative smile in the direction of the group who had saved Canterlot.
“Mind if I have that, little lady?” Sarge asked Fluttershy, gesturing to the white helmet in her grasp.
“Oh, sure!” Fluttershy said, seeming all too eager to be rid of it.
“Ooh! What’s that?” Pinkie Pie asked, her attention already drawn to something elsewhere.
The others followed her distracted gaze and found a small olive green metal tower a few feet high. It stood next to a similar drab green fold out table with a radio on it.
“Huh. Looks like a radio tower,” Grif said.
“Wyoming must have been using it to communicate with the Mother of Invention,” Tex suggested.
Rarity put a hoof to her chin as she thought about something. “If this thing can reach a ship all the way up in outer space, do you think it could reach somebody across the country?”
“With a little tweaking, probably,” Tex answered. “Why?”
“Oh, I was just thinking Twilight would like an update on the status of our mission,” Rarity said. “I’m not sure what she’s doing at the moment, but I’m sure she could use a bit of good news.”
Twilight and the others skidded to a halt in front of the tall wooden post. A bundle of rope lay in the snow around it. Seeing a speck of color nearby, Twilight moved closer and picked it up in her magic. A strand of red and yellow hair floated in front of her face.
“Dammit. They were here,” Twilight grunted, tossing the hair aside.
“You think they managed to escape?” Applejack asked.
“More likely they were taken somewhere else,” Washington said.
“That’s right.”
At the sound of the scratchy voice, the humans and ponies whirled around to find a familiar griffon standing there. Church, Washington and Simmons immediately raised their weapons but the griffon raised her talons harmlessly in the air.
“Wait! Don’t shoot!” she cried. “I’m here to help you, dweebs!”
“Gilda…” Twilight said as the others cautiously lowered their weapons.
“The commander’s taken Dash and the pink guy up the northern mountain,” Gilda said. To Twilight’s surprise, the normally aloof griffon sounded scared, and there was an urgent desperation in her eyes. “He’s planning on using them to get you guys to surrender, but I think he’s going to kill them no matter what you do! You’ve gotta stop him!”
“Which way’d he go?” Church asked.
“There’s a path past the north end of the camp. It leads right up the mountain,” Gilda said.
“How do we know you’re not just leading us into a trap?” Washington asked, tensing his grip on his rifle.
“Looks like she’s tellin’ the truth to me,” Applejack said, though with no shortage of caution.
“Please, Twilight…” Gilda begged, looking directly at her. “Rainbow Dash needs her friends. Her real friends.”
The sounds of distant shouting temporarily drew the group’s attention. The remaining sellswords were drawing closer.
“I can keep the rest of the mercs distracted. It’s the least I can do for her now.”
Nodding, Twilight turned towards the north end of the camp where the mountain towered overhead. “C’mon. We don’t have much time.” The others followed her.
“Just…” the sound of Gilda’s voice caused Twilight to look back over her shoulder. “Please… don’t kill the commander, okay?”
Twilight recalled Commander Graywing’s appearance. He certainly had a few similar traits to the griffon standing before her now. There was definitely a resemblance. Unfortunately, if Twilight had to choose between him and Rainbow Dash, she knew what her choice would be.
“We’ll do what we can,” Twilight said. It was all she could say, as the sounds of more raised voices filled the air and Applejack pulled her along.
As they ran for the mountain path, they heard Gilda’s voice rise above the others. “C’mon, you dweebs! They’re headed for the southern mountain!”
Gilda’s voice and those of the other sellswords grew fainter as Twilight and the others started up the northern mountain path. The climb was long and exhausting as the group trudged through ankle deep snow. As they climbed higher, they came across fresh footprints. Washington identified five individuals: three sellswords and their two friends.
It seemed they were climbing the mountain’s steep slopes for an eternity. As they got higher, they began to see the first vestiges of the morning sun over the distant horizon. They’d been climbing for so long, they almost didn’t see when they reached a leveled off cliff with five figures standing near the edge of a large outcrop. Donut and Rainbow Dash were on their knees with a spectacled unicorn, a donkey, and a large one-eyed griffon around them. Two of the mercenaries had their weapons pointed at the approaching group while Graywing had a magnum held to the heads of his hostages.
“Well… here we are again,” Godfrey Graywing sighed. The commander sounded tired more than anything.
“Yes. Here we are,” Washington said, aiming down the sights of his BR along with the Reds and Blues.
“We’re here for yer booty!” Caboose exclaimed, pointing at the sellswords dramatically.
The unicorn and the donkey exchanged a look, but Graywing remained steadfast. “Are you going to drop your weapons this time? Or should we bring this to its logical conclusion?”
“That depends,” Twilight said. “Are you going to kill them after we surrender?”
Graywing hesitated. “I’ll do whatever it takes to complete my job.”
“Think about the position you’re in,” Washington implored. “We have you cornered. The rest of your forces are either dead or engaged elsewhere. Even with two hostages, you can’t win.”
Graywing sneered. “So you think. My lieutenant is en route with reinforcements as we speak. In short order we’ll have you surrounded, and you’re in a much less defensible position this time.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t be so sure about that, buddy,” Church said, gesturing with his head over the side of the cliff.
The canyon full of neat, regimented tents stretched out far below as the orange rays of the rising sun began to reach them. From their position on the cliff, the ponies, humans and sellswords could see the distant battle raging between Graywing’s forces and the wights to the west. Godfrey Graywing leaned forward and squinted as he tried to spot the rest of his company. The only other blob of bodies far below was moving towards the southern mountain in the distance.
“Gilda, what are you doing?” Godfrey whispered, faint traces of uncertainty entering his voice.
“If you walk away now, you can live to fight another day,” Washington said. “Or you can fight, in which case you will die, your men will die, and our friends will die. All for nothing.”
Godfrey shook his head. “No. Not for nothing.” He turned away from the cliff and resumed his position beside his hostages. “I don’t suppose any of you are a parent, so I doubt you’ll understand. But when you’ve hurt the most precious thing in your life, you’d do anything to make things right again. To give her the life she deserves.” Graywing raised his sidearm towards Rainbow Dash. “Even if it means paying the ultimate price.”
“She was helping me, y’know!” Rainbow said.
Graywing narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“When you found her untying us. She wasn’t following your orders. She didn’t even know about ‘em!” Rainbow glared defiantly up at him. “She was trying to save us from you!”
“Liar!”
“It’s the truth,” Applejack said. “Where do ya think she’s goin’ with the rest of yer troops right now? She sure ain’t bringin’ 'em here!”
Godfrey looked up at the group like his whole world was crashing down around him.
“Face it, you don’t have her loyalty. You never did,” Rainbow said. “You might earn it back one day, but if you kill me, she’ll never forgive you!”
Godfrey Graywing looked from the group across from him to the mare at his feet and the man beside her. The talon holding the gun began to tremble, and slowly, Godfrey started to lower it.
He then raised it at Rainbow Dash again and pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out across the canyon below. It was followed swiftly by another one as Graywing raised the gun to his next hostage and fired again. Graywing fired shot after shot, one for Twilight, one for Washington, one for Church, one for Applejack, one for Simmons, and one for Caboose. He fired until nothing but the click of the empty magazine filled the mountainside. He then turned to his two subordinates.
“Inform Sunset Shimmer that all of the targets are dead. I had no choice but to take them all out.”
The unicorn glanced briefly at the targets in question. “Sir?”
“That’s an order, now do it!”
Disinclined to argue further, the unicorn and the donkey slung their weapons and made to hastily descend the mountain.
“Okay, ow! I hope I won’t go deaf from that,” Rainbow Dash said as she pressed her ears to her head and rubbed them.
“Aw, don’t worry! I had a grenade stuck to my head once, and I can still hear fine!” Donut exclaimed.
“WHAT?!”
“Thank you, commander,” Twilight said as behind her, Washington, Simmons, and the Blues lowered their rifles.
“I didn’t do this for you,” Godfrey said as he loaded another magazine into his pistol and put it away. “Now go, before I change my….”
The commander was interrupted by the sound of a single shot from a Battle Rifle. The whole world seemed to go silent as Godfrey’s eye grew wide. He grunted in pain as he clutched his chest, and the snow beneath him turned red. The Whitewater commander staggered backwards as more of his blood started to seep through his talon and onto the snow. With one final desperate gasp for air, the big one-eyed griffon’s hind leg slipped over the side of the cliff, bringing him down on the ground. Twilight and her friends could only watch as Godfrey Graywing slid over the side of the cliff and disappeared from view.
“Commander Graywing!” Twilight called out, suddenly remembering how to use her legs and rushing forward. But there wasn’t anything she could do but look over the side of the cliff where Godfrey’s broken and lifeless body lay at the foot of the mountain.
Dizzy and nauseous, Twilight backed away from the edge of the cliff and turned towards her friends. All of them had turned to face the two newcomers standing just down the path that brought them up the mountain. A maize unicorn mare with a red and yellow mane like fire stood beside a human in gray ODST armor with blue detail on his helmet and shoulder pads. The latter held a smoking BR in his hands while the former studied the group with a pair of cold, cyan eyes.
“Thank you, Donovan,” the unicorn said, shaking her head. “What a disappointment. Why did we even hire those idiots in the first place?”
“I believe you said because they were cheap and you needed subjects to field-test your experiment,” the gray soldier—evidently Donovan—stated.
The unicorn beside him just sighed and rubbed the bridge of her snout. “That was a rhetorical question, Donovan. Let’s try not to give them too much intel.”
Rainbow Dash growled and lowered her head while the others raised their weapons at the pair. The unicorn mare was quick to raise a magical cyan barrier around herself and the Recovery Agent.
“Oh no! That dog’s head is on fire!” Caboose exclaimed, pointing at the pony’s flame-like hair. “Don’t worry! I’ll get a fire extinguisher!”
“Oooh that was a burn! Your hair just got burned, girl!” Donut exclaimed.
“Which is exactly why we need to put her out!”
“You…” Twilight said, stepping out in front of her friends and studying the mare across from her with growing realization. “You’re Sunset Shimmer, aren’t you?”
The pony in question grinned. “Very observant. Of course, I’d expect nothing less from you. ‘Twilight Sparkle,’ is it? Hmph. That’s an interesting choice,” Sunset sneered. “I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet you.” Sunset began pacing within the confines of her own shield and directed an unsatisfied glance toward Donovan. “Of course, we would’ve met sooner if my friends at Project Freelancer were as good at apprehending ponies as they are at A.I. research.”
“It was you,” Church suddenly said. “You’re the reason the Freelancer program’s been chasing Twilight ever since she arrived on Repertum!”
“You must have helped them in a big way if they owe you a favor like that,” Simmons mused.
Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want with me anyway?”
“A few things,” Sunset said nonchalantly. “Mostly I’m curious about what Celestia sees in you. After all, she did pick you as my replacement. I mean, it’s one thing for her to pick a filly from Baltimare’s own House Warmblood as her pupil. But you….”
Sunset gave Twilight a spiteful glare. “To be honest, that still really irks me. Tell me, out of all the ponies in Equestria Celestia could have picked as her new protègè, why did it have to be you?!” Sunset exclaimed, throwing a foreleg in the air. “It’s like the princess is personally trying to spite me!”
“What the hay is that supposed to mean?!” Twilight exclaimed.
“You mean you still don’t know?” Sunset asked, giving Twilight a predatory grin. “Let’s just say we’re connected by more than just my old title.”
At that point, Donovan turned his attention from the group across from him to the mare at his side. “We should retreat. There’s nothing more for us to accomplish here.”
“Oh alright; my associate does have a point,” Sunset said with a roll of her eyes. She fixed her gaze on Twilight as her horn started to glow with cyan magic. “See you around, Twilight Sparkle. I’m sure we’ll chat again... real soon!”
With that, Sunset Shimmer and Donovan were absorbed in a bright flash of light and the next moment, they were gone.
“Whoa! It’s like a magic trick!” Caboose exclaimed. “I wonder if they can pull a rabbit out of a hat next.”
“Or maybe they can saw you in half,” Church snarked.
“So what the fuck was that about?” Simmons asked.
“Yeah, she really didn’t seem to like you, Twilight,” Church said. “Any idea why?”
“I don’t know,” Twilight carefully thought over the conversation she just had, and all of a sudden, a certain detail stuck out in her mind. “Wait, didn’t she mention House Warmblood?”
“I think so,” Applejack said. “Why?”
Twilight remembered why it seemed so familiar. The name Sacred Home returned to the forefront of her mind, and more importantly, the possibility it presented. Suddenly, it clicked, and Twilight gasped. It seemed impossible, but then again, so did much of what else she’d learned over the past few days.
“What is it Twilight?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“I’d really like to look into this 'House Warmblood' the next chance I get,” she said.
“Why’s that?” Washington asked.
“Because,” Twilight said soberly. “I’d probably be pretty angry too if I found out that Celestia replaced me with my illegitimate half-sister!”
Sunset and Donovan appeared in a burst of light on the side of the southern mountain. The battle far below between the sellswords and the wights had long since ended, the undead creatures now milling about aimlessly with no heat left to extinguish. Sunset looked across the vast canyon at the northern mountain.
“Well, that didn’t exactly go as planned,” Donovan mused.
“No,” Sunset said, keeping her gaze on the far mountain to see if she could spot the tiny specks of her group in the distance. “But that’s what fallback plans are for.”
Sunset Shimmer finally pulled her gaze away from the distant mountain and looked up at Donovan. “Call the Director.”