//------------------------------// // Chapter 8: Targeted // Story: Equestria Delivery // by JLB //------------------------------// --- - --- April 29th, 1013 AN - 5:17 PM Carol City, Equestria “The Crown Casino and Restaurant” The lanky, disheveled changeling knocked his forehoof against the long table, with over a dozen of other synaptics gathered around it, all dressed in black and white vest, tie and shirt uniform. His motions were lazy and weak, and his unkempt, short, seaweed green mane fell over his poorly focused eyes. The changeling’s breath was unsteady, and he poked his lower lip with one of his fangs as he stared up at the figure before him, which spoke in a deep voice, warped by multiple layers of echo and distortion. “If your necks can’t keep carrying your thick, stupid fucking heads, you see what happens.” The glowing, twitching, blank-eyed synaptic paced back and forth on top of the table, their insectoid wings sputtering. Splayed out on the far end of the table, dark, jagged maw pressing into the wood, was one of the other synaptics. She gasped for breath, and her horn sparkled fetid green from a huge gash and crack in the middle of it. There was a large, hoof-sized burn mark on her snout, and part of her already damaged mane had burned away. The ones that sat near her had moved to the sides. “That's for you, Parallax. Anyone else got any excuses?” None of the onlookers said a word. The twitching, ethereally glowing changeling on the table sighed and lowered his head. With a bright green flash, the wall on the far end of the room lit up, a large image with simple, neatly arranged lines taking shape on it. “Good,” he went on. “Since Parallax decided to be cute with her little map... Synth. Go point a hoof at things. You can do that, right?” The Boss' foreleg shakily pointed in the direction of the synaptic that sat next to Nexus. With a sigh, the scar-faced, long-maned changeling got up from his chair and walked over to the image, which revealed itself as a luminescent map of a district of the city, several bright dots all over it, highlighting specific addresses. “At your word,” Synth said. “Shit started at Starling, the slummy part of town. First...” He poked his hoof at a group of dots in one section of the map. “Well, it was just the street trash first, Tunnel Snakes, mostly. Then Majors got their ass handed to them, pretty bad. They have their whites and blues all over the place, yeah, but the fact is, they're pissing themselves, and even the papers are beginning to question if they're more gang than security. Moles tell me that some of their bossers got killed, hard. Ponies mostly bend over backwards for the Majors, but now they’re losing it. These crooks aren't gonna be useful worth shit anymore, aiming them at the others won't be worthwhile, so—” “Ah, looks like we have an expert working for us,” the Boss cut in, the distortion in his voice rising. “Remember when I asked you to do thinking for me?” “Boss, uh... I’m our... 'politics' expert, so, I guess—” “You’re an expert, and you have to guess?” The scar-faced changeling stared at the glowing one for a bit, not blinking, and eventually he shook his head. A small nod came as a response, and he continued. “Then Los Caballeros started losing businesses. Falling like a house of cards, even with all the rackets in town. Don's been more concerned with his son's birthday party, and with recruiting synaptics into his fold, than the fact his locations are being hit. They think they've got Carol wrapped up and ready to plunder. Well, as evidenced by us and you, Boss.” Synth gave another sigh. “That ain’t ever been exactly very fucking true. Now, though, it's delusional. Opinion?” “Diminish by five.” The blank-eyed changeling seethed at the contents of the room. “We can walk through the door of their mansion at Tejuano any minute and take right over, there and then.” A jagged hoof slid toward the coastal area the city. “So... that means we wait.” The Boss hummed, nodding to himself, and turned to the crew surrounding him. “I hope you all understood that.” His foreleg smacked Parallax for emphasis, making her yelp and jerk away. “I’m sure you’ll remember it, too.” Synth held his breath for a moment before he continued. “Now, us. Well, we’re doing shit as planned. Waiting it out, keeping a hold.” The Boss snorted. “With you useless cunts, we’re ‘keeping a hold’ between our legs. Cradling our cloacas.” Nexus lifted his head and looked across the table. Every changeling gathered there was shifty-eyed and tense. He retracted his hoof from the table and stopped knocking, now quietly rocking in his chair instead and huffing from time to time. The others looked less than stellar as well, but none were as visibly uncomfortable. A massive, androgynous synaptic that sat on his left nudged him harshly, so he stopped rocking. “Sorry, Phase,” Nexus whispered. “I’m a mess today” “You always are,” the faintly feminine synaptic replied in a growl. “Now shut up and sit still.” “Then, well. Then we have what looks like our main problem - the ‘Eastern Connection’.” Synth kept narrating the map, the exchange between Nexus and Phase apparently having gone unnoticed. “These dragon-loving islanders are turning things into a circus, it’s a tourist attraction now. It's not enough that they have Equestria's balls in a tight grip back at home, but now they want a piece of our seashore pie. So, uh… For whoever wasn’t around…” He raised a hoof defensively, but received another nod. “...the Eastern Connection arrived, and instantly got piss in their mouth. First deal they were gonna racket, fucking bam. Then again, then again. Looking a damn lot like they've got a mole in their ranks, and that he's leeching off to someone—” “So here’s our deal. Good.” The luminescent changeling waved him off. “You may sit down, Synth. You’ve said enough. Take that, and you'll stay alive.” “Yeah, so, uh, there's still why all this has been—” “Sit the fuck down.” The Boss raised his tone, briefly speaking in multiple distinct voices at once. Nexus’ other neighbor obeyed the order and sat down, placing his forehooves on the table. They kept shaking from that point on, and he breathed unsteadily. “Good. Now… about that recent setback that’s been hitting our competition lately. I know where Synth was going there.” The Boss turned around to face the more populated side. “After all the pony manure we took in the face for four, no, nine years, you’re worried some pants-on-head lunatic pony ‘vigilantes’ are going to kill us all?” The figure began pacing back and forth again, while most of the changelings present averted their eyes. Nexus’ own pupils dilated. “Well, one of you is right. Our main problem is the Yoni slantyshots. These special players aren’t. They won’t be. In case you forgot, you aren’t drones. So if you see one of them loonies charging at you, you'll want them dead. But I don't give a shit what you want, so I need their guts inside out.” He paused and leaned into the face of one of his subordinates, making them flinch back. “And I do hope I don’t have to give you magic classes...” The glowing figure pointed at Parallax, who still twitched and moaned. “...again.” With a particularly spastic shudder, the changeling jumped from the table and stood at the other end of it. Everyone risked turning their gaze toward him, including Nexus, though he took a bit longer than the others. “Here’s why I’m bothering to even waste my valuable time on you bunch of sniveling synaptic suckers. Tomorrow, those exotic overseas bastards from the Eastern Connection are going out of business... and straight into our slave pit!” the Boss bellowed, his voice almost losing the distortion, while the host changeling's mouth began to chip at the corners of its lips from grinning. “I’ll want the skies on fire above their heads, the walls decorated with their blood, and whoever’s left eating shit covering in front of us. And if you can’t get it done, I’ll settle for you lot instead.” His luminescent forehooves banged on the edge of the table and the green map disappeared. There was a loud, echoing sigh, followed by lengthy silence. “Alright. Stand up, you best of the best of the best. No, not you, Synth, I said your work for today is done. It’s time Mr. Lanky and Big Brother did something useful for once.” The blank-eyed synaptic pointed his hoof at Nexus first, then at Phase. Nexus was not the first to stand, however, only doing so when Phase pulled him with her. “This time this is for real. Our informant is sure, so you weren’t doubtlessly fucking preparing for your operations for nothing. Tomorrow, we’re stabbing them in the back and then sticking our candy stick in their mouth.” Nexus had to cover his eyes due to how bright the grin of the Boss had become, even compared to the eyes. Next to him, Phase chuckled, audibly cracking her jagged edges. “Phase - I want you to visit the bank at Sugar Trail. Be there before seven o’clock, wear something familiar, and put on a nice little show for their papers before they forget we ain’t extinct yet.” “Can do, Boss,” the large synaptic answered with a wide grin, nodding her head. “That’s my style.” “Which is why I’m sending you, and not this twisted personality.” The boss nodded his head at Nexus, his voice shifting through the syllables. “Assemble your crew and get it done. Those slants are going to hit the same place in two days, and they don’t know we know. When they march in with their fancy guns and flashy gadgets, they better not find anything more than a steaming turd in that safe. Now get out of here.” Nexus raised his head and looked straight at the fluorescent dark equine, who had begun to walk right up to him. He breathed heavily, and his hind legs twitched and crackled. “As for you, Mr. Shifty Shithead. The skyscraper hotel at Belle, ringing anything in your head? Better get yourself acquainted. These idiots are somehow less stupid than the lot of you combined. They’re negotiating with us for a truce.” He gave a short chuckle, the distortion rising into an ear splitting whine for a brief moment. “They probably think that just because we're here on the Equestrian mainland means we stopped thinking and started crapping friendship out our bumholes all day. Well, if they want to be friends so much, why don’t you take a few of your big bad colleagues down there? Smile and shake hooves. Show them how we treat our guests.” The ragged changeling opened his maw, but he remained silent and instead looked down at his hooves, then at the rest of the room. When the glowing figure tilted its head, he closed his eyes and gave a reluctant nod. “Good,” the boss said. “And no candy for you until it’s done. I better not see you cop a fix anywhere else either. This time, you’re going in clean.”” “What?” Nexus finally spoke up, awkwardly stretching a forehoof toward the changeling that had already turned away from him. “Have you looked in a mirror?” The luminescent changeling's head tilted, the neck almost cracking. "Droney, I could sink my teeth into the balls of a tartaran, but I don’t want to look at your decaying maw for more than five seconds. This fucker can’t either.” He poked himself in the chest, piercing the tie. “I can already feel him squirming. You all heard what you needed to. Don’t make me have to come down here in the flesh.” There was a loud shriek and a bright flash, after which the figure fell to the floor, no longer glowing. He lay there, motionless, until a few of the other changelings gathered around and turned him over, gently slapping him on his cheeks. The Boss’ vessel for the night began to cough and shiver, while Nexus turned away. *** April 30th, 1013 AN - 7:34 PM 101 Belle Street, Seashore Suites Hotel A raggedly clothed blonde mare stared down from the high rooftop, her eyes moving very little. She sweated all over her pale purple coat, with an umbrella tucked under one of her forelegs.Raindrops pattered on her horn, the appendage dim and unmoving. Strobelights glittered through the glass of the skylights behind her. Right above her head was a huge, glowing billboard. There was no noise beyond the steady rainfall, thudding against the umbrella and sizzling on the bulbs lining the edges of the billboard. At least a dozen unmoving figures occupied the same rooftop, having gathered into cliques to the left and right of the domed skylights. Shrouded in the shadows under canopies and near the stairwells, several groups of dark, jagged-edged figures lurked as well. The equines to the left kept to a dress code of slick, light silver suits, shimmering with fine polish. Most bore large suitcases, and every single one had extremely long sleeves. About a fifth of them were blurry, blank-eyed, their disguise wavering on and off constantly. Even a few exact copies could be seen, though spaced far from the originals, who sat around, smoking or otherwise passing the time. The group on the right was much smaller in number, fitting under the canopies with plenty of room to spare. All of them were undisguised changelings - bigger, more defined, with long, sharp horns, and bulky objects protruding from their color-blending vests. Among them were two pairs of non-equines - two tall, lean minotaurs, and two large, top-heavy griffons. The entire group was all silent and still, with little motion on the rooftop outside of more figures ascending the stairs to join either side.  Eventually, one of the griffons set off from under the canopy, along with one of the minotaurs. The latter headed rather swiftly towards the commune opposite of hers, twirling a pair of glasses in one of her hands not unlike a knife. The former came to a halt much earlier, arriving behind the mare with the umbrella and giving her a pat on the shoulder. The mare exhaled and shuddered, flickering sharp green where she stood, and she turned around to face the avian. Her visage stabilized, returning to the visual of a boney, skinny mare, but the umbrella vanished in her grip. She spat down onto the street, and her body flickered again, reverting back to being the tall, sickly synaptic, whose disproportionately lanky body she mimicked. The griffon fixed the tie on his neck and straightened his vest, coughing and sniffling a few times. “What, we starting yet?” Nexus asked. “Should be, soon.” The griffon nodded his head at the departing minotaur behind him. “One of our cows, eh... Took the liberty of reminding them they’re not in the position to make us wait for their bosses. Thought I’d make sure you’re okay with it.” He dropped onto all fours, wincing and rubbing his back with a talon. “I, ah. Yeah...” Nexus sniffled again and lifted a hoof to wipe his snout. “The fuck is up with them? Make them hurry. We’re not here to do Eastern pleasantries or whatever, I’m sick of soaking here.” He glanced at his companion and sighed. “Can’t imagine you feel any different.” “Nex.” The griffon moved closer and put a claw on the equine synaptic’s shoulder. “Before we shifted today, the genuine article told us to let you know something.” Nexus’ brow furrowed. “What, did you draw the shortest straw?” “Yeah. He said you should have a bad feeling about this, and that he was always against it.”  The griffon shrugged. “Take from that what you will, I don’t know what that old birdshit is talking about.” “Right,” Nexus said, turning away. He glanced at the left side of the roof, which was completely still, save for one of the silver-suited changelings being locked in a staring contest with the minotaur. She turned around moments later, signaling with hand motions to her own. The synaptic exhaled and closed his eyes, muttering under his breath. “Neither do I.” The avian remained by his side, even as the other non-equine moved back across the rooftop. He caught the equine changeling when he suddenly jerked, grabbing his horn with a hoof and nearly doubling over. “Fuck the changeling web, fuck it to shit,” he hissed through gritted teeth. Turning back toward the minotaur, whose horns sparkled in turn, he quickly waved a response. “Okay, good. Now is better than later. I am a bag of wet pony manure, and I'm not drying up.” Nexus patted the griffon changeling on the back and emerged from beneath the billboard. The changelings on his side of the roof stretched their legs and lit their horns. They formed up to either side of Nexus, and the barrage of raindrops ceased over their heads. He walked in front of the rest, the non-equines following close behind. The corners of his mouth jerked and his eyes narrowed as the other side of the roof formed up and closed the distance between them. A much greater amount of silver-suited, stocky equines lined up, with only a single undisguised changeling, as well as a couple of non-equines of their own. Nexus gritted his teeth, noticing the protruding bulges beneath the sleeves of the Eastern Connection members. His expression turned into a wide grin when he saw a large figure emerge in front of the formation. It was a massive male minotaur in a dragging, long leather cloak, an intricately tangled white beard on his face. A sizeable amount of various  trinkets adorned his otherwise bare, tattoo-covered chest, and two large objects poked out behind his back, their handles peeking from behind his shoulders. Most of the bovine’s water buffalo looking face was obscured by a large pair of pitch black sunglasses. A smokestick was gripped his mouth, the small flame at the tip maintaining through the rain. Him and Nexus stared each other down, while their respective groups closed in until they were all but within a hoof’s reach. “I understand your reservations,” Nexus spoke first. The sharp grin took full control of his face. “But I’m not sure how we’re supposed to do business if you won’t even make eye contact with us.” “We find a way,” replied a voice coming from nowhere near the minotaur’s mouth. Nexus turned his head and found another non-equine - a griffon from the opposing side. “Typically, I would translate. We understand some specifics of Blacktop, however, so we have our own spokes... changeling.” It was a modestly sized old albatross, limping along with a deep blue, lightning bolt-decorated cane. Most of the avian’s scrunched up face and beak was scar tissue. His copies, at least three of them, formed up to the sides of the procession. Each one mimicked the limping, attempting to replicate the intricacy of the scarring and posture, all of them slightly imperfect. One particular standout, however, was the one undisguised synaptic,, slitted pupils narrowing as he stared at Nexus. He walked ahead of the line, having nodded at the griffon. He carried a wide silver suitcase on his back, which he carefully lowered to the ground and held up with a hoof. “Kinesis?” Nexus grinned, tilting his head at his counterpart. “Now that’s a surprise. We’ve already buried you.” Kinesis returned the grin. “I noticed. Guess you like sucking it up to the Boss more than I do. Your face probably fits up his cloaca way better.Well, no time to catch up now. Here’s our—” The changeling’s voice cut off, and he started shuddering in place. He choked and gasped, his eyes bulging out of his skull as he grabbed for his throat with his forehooves.  Moments later, his neck split open, spraying Nexus’ group with steaming changeling blood. The suitcase fell from his grip, skidding to a halt between the two gangs. With a wet, wooden-sounding crunch, his head quickly twisted around, coming off in an explosion of green gore. A faint blue magic aura flickered around his body for a second, and the air vibrated as a booming, mangled voice rang out from above. “NOBODY MOVES.” 8:04 PM The floor shook violently beneath the two groups. Deafening thunder cracked in the sky, and sporadic heavy winds blew against the occupants of the roof. Its surface was showered with heavy hail pellets within seconds, pelting several of the bigger gangsters. Nexus trembled, barely standing his ground, and he was the first to take off when far larger projectiles were launched toward the roof from the floating platforms that sprung up out of nowhere in the air above them. He snagged the suitcase from beside the disfigured body mere moments before a blinding barrage of lightning erupted all over the sky, striking all over several dozen gang members. The silver-suited, heavily armed clique could only watch him gallop down the stairs before lightning and payload overwhelmed most of them. Nexus was completely out of sight, closely followed by the majority of the vested synaptics, when a group of dark purple, freakishly massive armored equines landed on the roof. The whole building shook from each impact, leaving sizable craters in solid concrete, and the ponies wasted no time bursting out of them, brandishing riot shields that crackled with electricity. A few broke off to pursue the changelings down the stairs, while the rest got in formation to engage the gangsters as they fired wildly. By when there was a fleeing commotion at the other flight of stairs, a fresh wave of silver-suited gangsters ran into the retreating changelings. The griffons, both still alive along with Nexus, rammed them into the walls and crushed their heads before they could fire a single shot, their firearms jammed by the equine synaptics. One of the changelings hurled a projectile of seething spittle at the bodies of the would-be backstab crew. The synaptics arrived at a clearing on the thirteenth floor, seeming empty for the moment, it being one of the luxury complex’s maintenance floors. Nexus shambled over to one of the minotaurs and nudged her with the suitcase, nodding at it. The bovine changeling glared in return. Her index finger pressed against her lips and then pointed out a window, where a multitude of objects hovered in the sky, large equine figures rappelling down from them. Sharp, lighter-looking figures soared further up, creating the storm. The agile minotaur’s horns sparkled, as well as that of several other changelings who were staring at Nexus, and the procession headed off to a different staircase, the minotaurs and griffons leaving via window and crashing through the walls into the lower floors. Head throbbing as he received the signal, Nexus coughed and took a deep breath, attaching the suitcase to his back. “Yeah, I’m not the distraction here, sure not,” he grumbled to himself, rushing down the closest stairway. His hooves counted less than quarter of the steps as he rushed down the apartment complex, occasionally bending over and firing up his horn to transport himself down a flight instantly. The wind howled, there was rabid thunder outside, and even in the stairwell the lightning would occasionally blind the changeling. The arms fire that came from the floors above was almost drowned out, but not entirely. Nexus nearly tumbled over, grabbing his horn when the firing suddenly cut off. He looked up at the floor his gangmates were at and scowled. The expression stayed on his face when he saw a glowing, sparkling mass barricading the way down from floor seven. His spit dissipated half a meter before he reached it. Nexus shook his head and galloped down the expansive apartment floor. Just after taking a step on the decorated rug of the intermingling hallway, he was nearly hit by a door as it flew open. Panicked screams came from the apartment, then multiple distorted voices, and finally a loud electric bang that nearly sent him tumbling onto his face, even though he was halfway down the hall by then. The entire floor shook with the sound of windows getting torn clean out of their frames, crashing, spreading broken glass through the air, the surviving frames banging rapidly. In the cacophony of noise, Nexus rounded multiple corners, occasionally running into guests that emerged from their rooms in fright. Much heavier, more rhythmic noises followed him, sometimes mixed with screams of ponies and loud electric crackles. The other path to the next stairwell was yet to be blocked, and the changeling descended to floor seven. That floor had already been fully barricaded by a multitude of pony figures in dark purple armor. Nexus pulled back for a moment, and his horn sparkled. Before he could add more than just the coat and blonde mane to his disguise, he groaned and shuddered, light green cracks springing around his face. Banging his horn against the wall, he halted the spell and remained in his changeling form. Taking a deep breath, the changeling turned the corner and saw at least half a dozen armored ponies mere paces away. There was not a portion of their body exposed under the crystalline-looking purple metal. Earth ponies and unicorns - the former much more thickly armed, their hooves crackling and sparking, and bearing enormous, spiked riot shields, which glowed from excess energy. Meanwhile, the latter appeared thinner, heads covered by prolonged rubber masks with filters at their ends and colored, glowing eyepieces. Nexus was still staring at them when several of the earth ponies approached him, two of them remaining behind and slamming their shields into the floor. He dashed for the stairway, but was still knocked down by the resulting shockwave, which nearly dislodged the stair railing out of its roots. Rapidly, the changeling backed off from the advancing shieldbearers, utilizing what little space there was on the stairway flight intersection. His thinking time was cut short when a subtle pull started to lift his legs for him. Nexus thrashed wildly and managed to leap right at one of the shield ponies, horn lighting up. As his figure was obscured by the much bigger one, the disembodied force on his leg lost its grip. Jerking from the excess energy drawing into him, Nexus lit his horn and vaulted over the railing, dismantling it completely, and he landed near the barricade. Screaming from the effort, he let the magic discharge out, barely controlling it, and tumbled ahead as soon as he could move. Running blind, the changeling rushed ahead down the next set of stairs, having created a small gap in the barrier. His tail sizzled and left a trail of smoke, the ends completely scorched. The earth pony shieldbearers and masked unicorns split up, half of them remaining on the floor as they proceeded to violently destroy it, the rest dissolving their barricade and going after the changeling with the briefcase. They followed him through the maze of expensive rooms on floor seven, tracking down the warping ash falling from the remains of his tail, as well as several civilian ponies, bruised or thrown against walls. Loud lightning shocks or a quick flash freeze from one of the unicorns, whose mask glowed with faint blue, got rid of those clues, while more armored ponies crashed in through windows or teleported straight into the halls to take care of the floor itself. Nexus was already on floor six, having crashed into an apartment above it, broken through a living room door, and thrown the terror-stricken equine family’s videodrome out the window, which he climbed out of and vaulted into the floor below. The air was thick with electricity, and there was more hail than raindrops. A swift, razor-sharp pegasus figure swept right past him the moment he arrived in the room below. The changeling rammed his way to freedom out of the vacant rooms and dashed through the intersecting hallways to the stairwell which was not giving off the visible glow of a barricade. The pony troopers that arrived onto that floor were busy going through the other apartments. Nexus felt an ache in his horn, and his ears caught the noise of a high-end changeling detector just as he reached the stairs - it bore a maintenance sign on it, with several bright red signs warning not to cross. Before he could even attempt it, the changeling was flung to the floor by a roaring vortex and a white flash. The next moment he was scrambling back up, but there was already a thin, masked unicorn figure coalescing in front of him. More shapes surrounded it, much fainter, growing more cohesive every moment. Nexus groaned and lunged at the unicorn the second they seemed to be mostly corporeal. He quickly bent over and lunged upwards, teeth gritted. His jagged, sharp horn, still sparkling with excess energy, pierced the thinner armor of the unicorn trooper and gored it right at the intersection between the chin and the neck. The changeling was hit by a spray of blood before he turned around, his escape boosted by the explosion of energy. The air was momentarily filled with very brief screams, as opposed to the chaos of the ponies destroying the hotel and the hailstorm they had summoned. There was a barricade blocking the stairs further down, but it faded from the explosion, allowing Nexus to pass through. Mere moments after he got past it and made it to the fourth floor, it materialized again behind him.. Once safely on the subsequent floor, the changeling touched his back, nodding to himself upon feeling that the suitcase was intact. The next moment, he rolled behind a nearby wall, barely evading a heavy slug that ripped out a large chunk of the wall that used to be behind him. More heavy shots followed, then a loud, distorted, electric noise. Nexus heard thunderous hoofsteps, different from the ones of the pony troopers, and cursed under his breath. He shook his head, examining the next flight of stairs. With a scowl, he picked up one of the few potted plants that occupied its corners. When the hoofsteps were just close enough, he leaped out and tossed the pot straight at the head of other gang’s minotaur, while Nexus himself slid over to a nearby door and swiftly bashed his way inside. The stallion inside the hotel room was knocked right off his hooves and dragged along with the galloping changeling, until his body hit a corner that the dark equine managed to avoid. Moments later, a heavy slug crashed through the remains of the door and left an enormous hole in the wall above him, burying the pony in plaster. Several more shots followed, missing the galloping, bent-down changeling and obliterating much of the room’s contents. Nexus rammed himself against one of the wardrobes, all of which had been moved in front of the windows to barricade from the hailstorm outside. He quickly abandoned the idea upon seeing a towering shadow enter the room. Breathing heavily, he put a hoof in his mouth and lit up his horn. The agonized gurgle was masked, and the trembling changeling was consumed in a green flash, after which his body shifted and blended in with the contents of the room. The minotaur that marched in was dragging one of his hands, missing the other firearm, lacking most of the cloak decorations, and no sunglasses covered his face, revealing a blank green void in place of his eyes. He grinned and pointed the large gun at where Nexus was hidden. The synaptic snapped out of it and tried to dodge the shot, but it went completely wide and he heard a loud thud and a hiss of steam. Nexus looked up from the corner he tumbled into and saw one of his griffons pummel and boil the other gang’s minotaur changeling. They nodded at each other, and the avian smashed the furniture blocking the windows. The synaptic took some time to get up and check whether the case on his back was intact. By then, the griffon had disappeared in the storm of hail, while the sound of glass breaking loudly raing out from the third floor. Nexus groaned, dragging himself under the rain of projectiles. He was just about to get all his limbs out when several loud bouts of lightning and thunder shook the building, forcing him back inside. Distorted screams, loud thudding, cracks of electricity, and hissing came from the floor below. He took his head in his hooves and put up a glow around himself, despite the loud changeling detector noises going off on multiple floors above and below. The changeling shimmied to the side, far from where his griffon had descended, and for a while he was protected from the hail. The alley three stories below was empty, making it one of the few spots on the surface not parked with large, crystalline vehicles, as well as police machinery. When the noises had died down or were far enough, he flung himself down and broke into a hallway window. He found the albatross griffon driving his cane through a masked unicorn trooper’s chest just as the synaptic rolled to his side out of the broken window. His claws had already lit up with energy, going into the cane, frying the trooper within seconds. The avian took a moment too long to notice Nexus, and he stomped his wooden leg on the floor to leap back far too late - the changeling grabbed the frail griffon and flung it at his own cane while jumping as far back as he could. The case on his back was kept safe from the flash of green lightning by his own body. Not taking time to stare at the charred, jagged, deformed corpse, he ran to the intersection, looking for the nearest stairwell. On the third floor, the gunfire had gotten louder than the storm. He seemed far enough away from it at first, but the noises got louder the closer he got to an unbarricaded staircase. Eventually, there was a particularly high-pitched shriek and a very loud, unpleasant, fleshy noise, as well as a brief shout in a foreign language. When Nexus had arrived at the staircase, he found a pair of pony troopers there, and more fleshy noises could be heard, followed by a simultaneous rise and drop in temperature, as well as sounds of an intense fire and cracking ice. The gunfire had died down completely. Only one of the two troopers was standing upright, bent over the other who leaned against the wall, leaking red blood out of a big crack in his chest armor. A crackling green persisted within the wound, and not so far down the stairs, there was the charred, jagged corpse of a lean minotaur-shaped synaptic. The wounded trooper’s shield lay off to the side, and there was no electric aura surrounding his hooves. An even bigger crack was on his helmet, which revealed most of his face, broken in and mangled, though he was still alive and conscious. His comrade and Nexus glanced at each other mere moments before the changeling charged at him with a groan. The other trooper was wearing the thinnest armor plating yet, painted white and red, and the only armament on his body was a far smaller shield with a red cross on it. Nexus threw his whole body at him, aiming to headbutt the trooper in his fragile-looking toned glass helmet. The glow surrounding the changeling bent and hummed as their bodies made contact before the pony could react. He fell back, while Nexus cried out in pain and grabbed at his horn, his aura dissipating. His tie thrashed in the violent wind that filled the hallways as he stared at the pony with the cracked helmet, fangs gritted from pain and nerve-wracking panic. When the trooper did not get up, the changeling shook his head and rushed back up the stairs. With a stab of his jagged foreleg, he pierced the exposed head of the injured earth pony shieldbearer. Halfway on his way to finish off the trooper in white and red, Nexus barely dodged a sudden light green projectile that emerged from the end of the pony’s shield. He flashed his fangs, side-stepping another shot, but by the time he could take a stance, his opponent was already up. A muffled voice shifted unnaturally far down in pitch growled something at him, and the changeling had to dodge again as a rapid swipe of the sharp shield came at him. He flung himself at the door nearby, crashing horn-first into the hotel hallway. His eyes bulged, his mouth opening and closing as he gasped for breath. His horn vomited sparkles. There were fuzzy, wet sounds accompanying the sparking fits. The synaptic closed his eyes, which lost vision, and screamed, galloping with all the speed he could muster down the hallway. Synapse streamed from one of his temples, oozing over his eyes, but he was able to move just before the pony aimed another projectile at him. Out of reflex, the changeling dodged another, as well as the acidic green stains dissolving parts of the hallway, where the previous missiles landed. Nexus was being pursued by a squad of four before he even reached another room he could break into, barely avoiding a wave of flash freezing magic that turned the rug into an ice blanket. Having worn down his body even more by using it as the battering ram, he limped through the room, heading for its balcony. Inside was a mare and several foals huddled around her, hidden behind a wall, while the rest of the room was bombarded by wind, rain and hail. They screamed in terror upon seeing the intruder. The troopers that reached the room had four thrashing bodies thrown violently right at them. A series of distorted voices screamed, drowning out the family’s shouts, as well as the bleeding changeling’s moans of pain as he smashed the window and jumped out. Nexus dropped into the alley, landing straight on top of a large dumpster. He stumbled as he got off and fell snout-first into the hail-covered pavement. Groaning and swaying unsteadily, he got back up, shaking off the dizziness before he crept forth carefully. He exhaled and rested his eyes for a brief moment, seeing no trooper or police activity among the vehicles parked nearby.  After making sure he was both concealed and sheltered from the hail above, Nexus doubled over and released a tide of steaming green ooze from his mouth. His hooves supported him on the wall as he stared, eyes twitching, into the pile of vomit. He then shook his head, nearly falling over, and lay himself down properly. With a bit of fidgeting, he retrieved a small vial with a needle at the tip from his pocket, and he quickly jabbed the device into his throat. One of his hooves pushed into his mouth, while the other pressed against his horn. A muffled scream echoed off the walls. A minute later a blonde unicorn mare with a bulge under her ragged hoodie limped out of the alley. She pulled the hood tightly over her head and swiftly trotted down the street. A group of troopers in white and red stood near a pair of their vehicles, the mare making her way past them. One of them looked up and pointed at her. A comparatively smaller pony in a CCPD outfit, standing inside one of the vehicles, lifted a hoof and shook his head as he watched the shellshocked mare limp into another alleyway. “That’s not a cockroach. If your gizmo-tech can’t see the signal, then it can't be.” The others argued with him for a bit, and he kept waving them off. “Think about it, she'd need to either be half dead from dampeners. She'd be puking lettuce out the horn. Just let it go, focus on what you're here for.” They kept bickering for a while, the mare hearing the voice of one of the medics before she disappeared from sight. “This could have been a civvie. We’re not bleeding hearts, but we could go do something. We're not that mental, you know that.” The police pony sat back down and buried his snout in his hooves, avoiding the bandages on the broken ridge of his nose. “Nah. I’m in enough trouble with the commish as it is. I’d rather not have to go to court with him to keep my job. Besides, look at her, she's healthy enough to loiter. You're not running your own thing here just yet.” The white and red trooper shrugged. “Well, it’s on you, Thorn. I say we definitely let innocent civilians die this time. What, do you want to feel better about yourself? Make us closer to what you traitors write about us in your papers?” Nexus detached himself from the wall in the other alleyway, remaining unaffected by the elements, as the storm was fully contained within the area of the hotel building. He laughed to himself, spitting green, and limped on, maintaining the disguise. Along the way, he tossed another vial, fully emptied, into the trash. *** TO: Commissioner Vice Point FROM: Patrol Officer Thorn You’ll keep this under wraps, so I’ll keep this informal. The favor is in. My connections came through. I say we're even now. The hotel on Belle is trashed. The bank on Sugar Trail is a bloodbath as well, but there is less collateral there. Casualties out the ass, Vice, and I think you knew this would happen. A lot of gang members, lots of injured civilians. Some died. Property damage, everything. The ES/AS came through, we got everything short of dust bombing our own districts. I'm glad you don't think Carol deserves that fate just yet. Vellum’s office can bleed New Canterlot dry for anti-terror funds now. I hope everyone is happy. I had my patrol and forensics snoop around the scenes, making it look legit as you asked. Seems like it really wasn't the gangs we’ve been on about for the past few years. Can’t identify much from what the ES/AS left for us, but the dress code and some other things definitely don’t add up. You’ll shut me down when I bring this up, but it’s obvious as shit now. There’s something bigger behind all this. Some of these aren't even from here. Some others are turning up interesting faces that we thought have gone legit after the War. On that note, I’m not blind. I can tell you want me to make more calls to my 'terrorist friends' so they can clean this city up for us. Otherwise you keep my badge. You don’t give a fuck, I know. But let me put it this way, I’ve been looking through cases, and I’ve seen some very funny things. These crystal tech freaks are only on our side as long as I'm here, and as long as you sprinkle in some bits. I'm not breaking new ground when I tell you that they won't leave town, and that we just gave them an excuse to stay here and start running ops. We’re not cleaning the city up like this, and you know it. Especially not when you still make us spout bullshit out in public. I also know you’ve seen what I’ve seen in the Starling and Belle strings of murders. Fuck, the place me and my guys were crashing. The ES/AS being here is going to make it easy for folks to ignore, but I know you're not an idiot, so you must be connecting the dots. I want my badge, you want me to keep making these calls, and I know things nobody else seems to want to know. Do you want this to go public? 15 Minuano Ave - 11:40 PM Nexus lay on a bed, undressed, most of his head in bandages. Synth stood by his side, rubbing the scar on his face. He paced back and forth occasionally. When the tall, disheveled changeling opened his mouth and coughed before speaking up, the scarred one looked out the door and nodded to a mare that sat on the couch in the living room. “So Phase got ambushed too.” Nexus tapped his hoof in frustration. “Fan-fucking-tastic. I told you we had to quit.” Synth shrugged. “Well, you got your wish. You’re all sorts of fucked up. Boss won’t be sending you to do shit for a while from now. You’ll want to lay low, stay here. Be glad you’re not her, she’ll be in the white house for years.” “Yeah, shit...” Nexus sighed and shook his head. “At least I get to stay home. Wander probably forgot what I even look like. Did she take it well?” “Wanderlust is fine, Nex, she’s fine. I handled her meds after I was done patching you up.” Nexus tried to move, but as soon as he took a step, his hooves moved to his horn and he bit his lip in pain. One of his forelegs moved sluggishly, making him sigh again and drop both limbs back on the bed. “Fuck… I can’t let this keep happening.” “Yeah, you can't keep having me rebuild you from scratch. It keeps happening.” Synth glanced out the window. “Like, fuck me... She doesn’t deserve having to deal with this shit. I’m meant to provide for her, but instead half the time I’m shot up on joy that's so spiked, my face could burst. I'm ugly like a fucking corpse, too. Now I almost got killed again... and I lost my job. Urgh.” Nexus coughed and spat onto his bandages. Another attempt to get up was unsuccessful. “You got an excuse for joy, at least. Even before Queenie did her stunt, you were already all over that stuff, living with these idiots. And after the whole... cadaver business—" Nexus groaned and covered his face up. "Well, it was that or be a complete freak. No wonder you got hooked." Nexus rolled his eyes. “Oh, thanks for reminding me about the bitch. You’re shit at comforting.” “Yeah?” Synth sat down and crossed his hooves. “Well, maybe you could be grateful for a sec. Just a little bit. You'd be in pieces, the both of you, if I hadnt spent five years as a doctor in Filly before all this. And if my patience wasn't utterly fucking endless.” “Right, sure. Before all this... My medals and ribbons sure are helping right now.” Nexus gasped when a fat, orange tabby nudged his bandaged foreleg. “Synth… do me a favor, get Nemesis the fuck out of here and tell Wanderlust to handle his fat ass. I don’t need this right now.” Synth planted a hoof on his face and lit up his horn, lifting the noisy cat and carrying him down the hallway into the living room. He shook his head, flipping the long mane out of his eyes, and stared out the window at the nighttime ocean view. Him and the other synaptic remained silent for a while, surrounded by impromptu medical equipment stained with synapse. “Nex, you owe me five lifetimes. I’m allowed not to try very hard after I agreed to stay at your house to watch over your girlfriend and after I played surgeon with this hunk of bruises that you got turned into. I sure hope you keep in mind how much you owe me. You owe me today, you owe me for your girl, you owe me for this shit.” Synth poked at the scar across his face again. "You can start hoping I'm the one to get fucked up next, because your debts are piling up." “Look… I’ll get moving as soon as I can. When this is over, I’ll do all the favors in the world, but for now, just… bear with me. Like, okay…” Nexus closed his eyes and wheezed through his nose. “The briefcase I took from the slits, take that, and pretend it was never full when you hand it to the boss. He should be happy. Even if their leaders lived, shit, these assholes are in a corner now. No merch, no rank.” “Yeah. Where have I heard all this before. Right.” Synth sighed, leaning against the foot of the bed while he looked at the other synaptic. “Here’s what else you do to start paying your debt off. While you’re regenerating here on your boney ass? Drop the shit.” “Oh for— Dude, I tried!” Nexus flinched, having moved too suddenly for his injured parts to keep up. “It’s… I… You know what, fuck the hive. Fuck all this. Fuck the Boss, and fuck the Queen. Bitch ruins my life just so I can reliably tell her ponies like cookies and hearts, and they suck at athletics.” “Well, that’s not true anymore.” The lanky changeling’s horn lit up and he groaned in pain. The one with the scar lifted his hoof, only to lower it back down, sighing. He turned away as a slurping noise and a weak flash emerged from the injured changeling’s horn. An agonized sigh and gulp came from him, and his body now flickered between appearances. “That’s no good.” “She’s more comfortable with me like this. Tell her to come in. I want—” Nexus wheezed in pain, gritting his teeth from the effort of turning fully into a pony. He now appeared again as a blonde young adult unicorn mare with a disheveled purple coat and bright, bloodshot yellow eyes. “—I want to tell her it’s fine.” “Okay.” Synth shrugged, knocking on the door to the bedroom from the inside. “But it isn’t.” “I know.” --- - ---