Zebrica
4 years ago
All was quiet in the dense rainforest, save for the soft drone of insects and the occasional hoot or screech from a distant jungle creature. The moon shone bright and clear in the sky, dappling the lush canopy with drops of liquid quicksilver. It seemed like the night itself was holding its breath in anticipation, waiting for something to break the silence. And break it did.
Crunch, rustle, snap!
Equestrian Special Agent Crimson Flare (callsign “Ember”) hacked her way through the dense brush, cutting and slashing like it had personally offended her. The scarlet-maned, white-coated mare stumbled out into the dark forest clearing, shook off a couple lingering leaves, and sighed. They had been going at this for over six hours now, and so far hadn’t encountered anything that looked even remotely like the camp of a zebra warlord. She was beginning to wonder if this mission was Com’s idea of a practical joke. With the intel they’ve been giving us, I wouldn’t be surprised. Still grumbling, she lifted a hoof to her ear, activating the magical communication conch curled behind it.
“This is Ember. Storm, give me an aerial report.”
High above the forest canopy, a sea-green pegasus (callsign “Storm”) heard the command. He raised his hoof in a gesture similar to Flare’s and replied, hovering above the trees. “This is Storm. It’s all quiet up here. No sign of anypony, hostile or otherwise. If you ask me, this whole thing’s a heaping bucket of horseapples.”
Below, Flare rolled her eyes. “Roger that. And nopony did ask you, Cirrus, so keep your mouth shut and your eyes on the leaves.”
Cirrus chuckled. “Yes ma’am.”
“And don’t call me ‘ma’am’. I’m your squad leader, not your mother.” This only elicited another chuckle from the incorrigible pegasus. She grunted in irritation. Cirrus had always had trouble understanding the gravity of their missions, a fact about which he and Flare had never seen eye-to-eye. But, for all his unprofessionalism, he was still the best recon pegasus in the force, hooves-down. Crimson could deal with the occasional jibe and disagreement as long as he kept their flanks covered from the air.
*kshhhzt*
Flare’s brooding was interrupted by a burst of static from her com shell. “Hello?” Several hundred feet away, a charcoal-black unicorn mare named Dusky Glow (callsign “Shadow”) answered, in a voice like silk:
“This is Shadow. Nothing to report here, either. I’ve been sticking to the trail Com layed out for us, but no luck so far.” Glow was their designated infiltration and sabotage pony, using her talents as a former security agent in combination with her unique magical abilities to disable or slip past even the toughest of defenses. Her unique skillset made her absolutely invaluable on stealth missions like this one.
Now if only we could actually find the place we’re supposed to be infiltrating...
“Roger that, Shadow. Keep up the good work. Wave, any luck on your end?”
Wave was the final member of Crimson Squad. A large navy earth pony of few words and deliberate actions, he only spoke when he felt there was dire need. “Negative,” he said, his voice low and rumbling over the com-conch.
Crimson nodded absentmindedly, forgetting there was nopony around to appreciate the gesture. “All right, everpony rendezvous with me at the next clearing,” she said. “We’ll take one more sweep through the area as a group. If we don’t find anything, I’ll radio Command and give them a piece of my mind. Copy?”
Three voices answered in unison:
“Copy.”
Crimson leaned against a tree, waiting for her squadmates to find her using the tracker acorns embedded in their packs. Hopefully we’ll just find an abandoned camp and maybe a couple sleepy zebra commandos. I really don’t want to think about what Com will do if I tell them we managed to lose an entire guerrilla army. She heard a flutter of wings nearby and looked up to see Cirrus alight gracefully on a branch near her head. He grinned.
“Miss me, Sparky?”
Flare ignored the pegasus’ feeble attempt at a pet name. “Like I miss my hydra bite.”
Cirrus chuckled, not letting the insult deter him. “Ah, come on, don’t be like that. Just because I’m a heroic, dashing soldier and you’re a sensitive, delicate medic doesn’t mean can’t be together.”
She rolled her eyes. “In your dreams, flyboy.”
“Flyboy? Cute. I love it. And you complain about me giving pet names.”
Flare stomped a hoof in frustration. Some ponies! Honestly, throw a pair of wings on a stallion and he suddenly thinks he’s Celestia’s gift to mares. She looked at Cirrus.
“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”
“Playing hard to get, huh?” His grin grew even wider. “I can roll with that.”
“Celestia, you are bucking impossible.”
“Aren’t I?”
Their banter was cut short by Dusky Glow materialising from the shadowy undergrowth like a ghost. She smiled at the pair. “Sorry to interrupt a lover’s quarrel-”
“Oh don’t you start. He’s bad enough as it is.”
Glow giggled, a sound like tinkling bells. “I know.” She tossed her blonde mane over her shoulder. “Besides, we both know the only plot Cirrus will ever get will be from between the covers of a book.”
She and Crimson both burst out laughing. That’s my girl. Always ready to lend a hoof, or, in this case, a punchline. Cirrus put a hoof to his chest, looking deeply wounded.
“That hurts, Glow. That really does. Honestly, it’s like you mares forget I have even have feelings.”
Crimson and Glow hoof-bumped, ignoring him.
“Hope Wave finds us soon. I don’t know if I can take another ten minutes with Casaneighva here,” said Crimson.
Glow nodded, wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “Ha... me neither.”
Cirrus retreated to higher in the tree, sulking. Flare wasn’t unduly worried. Two minutes and he’ll be back to his normal, irritating self. Unfortunately.
Five minutes of idle banter later, Wave still hadn’t arrived. Crimson was starting to get concerned. He wasn’t that far away, was he? She raised a hoof, activating her com-shell.
“Wave, this is Ember. Status report.”
There was a pause, then Wave’s voice rumbled back through the conch, sounding urgent. “Copacetic. But... There’s something you need to see.”
“Copy that. On my way.” She focused on the acorn in her saddlebags, thinking of the color blue. After a couple seconds of concentration, a glowing azure sphere floated up from within her pack and began to make its way across the forest floor. Flare immediately set off at a quick trot after it, motioning her squadmates to follow. When Wave said something was important, you bucking listened.
Within two minutes, the entire squad was gathered behind a cluster of moss-covered boulders near the edge of small cliff. Wave had nodded curtly when he had seen the three approach, motioning them to get behind the natural cover for reasons only he knew.
Crimson looked at him expectantly. “Well?” The stallion simply motioned past the rocks into the forest beyond, not bothering to give an explanation. Flare rolled her eyes and began crawling, commando-style, up the outcropping. Reaching the top, she peered out over the jagged edge of the rocks and nearly gasped in shock. Oh sweet Luna. This mission just got a lot more interesting.
The clearing below was filled with a mishmash of tents, battered target dummies, and zebra commandos, all bathed in the sickly green glow of spellfire lanterns. Crimson counted at least three dozen troops with her first glance, maybe even more. They were all armed with tribal toothbows and spike rifles, nasty zebran murder implements that could throw a hail of poison barbs at their target in the time it took to blink. Many of the warriors were also painted with odd, swirling patterns that seemed to move of their own accord in the flickering light, an effect only intensified by the myriad of stripes already present on their bodies.
Flare slowly crawled back down from the rocks, looking at her squadmates in apprehension. Cirrus, as always, was the first to break the silence. “Well? What is it? Don’t just leave us hangi-mmmph!” His question was cut short as Flare shoved a hoof in his mouth, motioning to her team to lean closer. They obliged.
“Enemy camp is in the clearing below us.” Flare whispered, pointing down past the outcropping. “At least thirty hostiles, probably more in the tents or out on patrol. All armed with the standard zebran guerilla kit. Spike and tooth. You know the deal. No sign of the warlord or our intel, at least not yet.” She grinned at her companions. “So, everypony ready for some action?”
Dusky and Cirrus mirrored her expression. Wave, stoic as always, simply nodded.
“All right, here’s the plan. Storm, when I give you the signal, you strafe out above the camp and draw the zebras’ fire. Get close enough to piss them off, but don’t play it too risky. I can heal a lot of things, but a clip of poison barbs to the face isn’t one of them.” The green stallion’s grin intensified.
“Gotcha. I’ve been looking for a chance to try out my new reverse aileron anyway.”
Flare sighed at the pegasus’ complete lack of gravity and self-preservation. “Just don’t get killed. Shadow, I need you to cut back around while Storm is distracting the soldiers. Get into the camp and search as much of it as possible. You can take out a couple of them if you need to, but try not to call attention to yourself.”
“Will do.” said Glow, letting her gaze stray to the silenced hex repeater holstered on her right hoof. The fact that she preferred to work in the shadows definitely didn’t mean she couldn’t pop a few heads if need be.
Crimson turned to the final member of the squad. “Wave and I will be somewhere nearby, giving covering fire and taking out any zebra that gets too close. With Storm diverting most of the heat, we should be in and out before the stripey bastards know what hit ‘em.” Wave nodded again, bringing his Hexala II Runic Chaingun to bear with a grunt. The massive weapon was capable of spitting out a veritable firestorm of enchanted slugs, turning everything in the immediate area into the equivalent of magical swiss cheese. The gun’s only downsides were its incredible weight and the expertise required to correctly load and operate it. Both of these problems were severely mitigated by the weapon’s owner, who also happened to be the one of the twelve or so ponies capable of actually lifting it.
Flare surveyed her squad approvingly. They were the Equestria’s best and brightest, hoof-picked by the Royal Sisters themselves to combat any and all threats to the nation’s safety. Hell, if there’s anypony that can charge into a suicide mission and turn it into a victory, it’s us.
“All right, Crimson Squad. Break on three.” said Flare, extending a foreleg. Her squadmates did the same, stacking their hooves on top of hers. It was a ritual they had, a way of saying “good luck” without any awkwardness.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Come on, Crimson. You’ve got this.
“One, two, three, break!”
Dusky gave a little wave to the rest of her squadmates before melting back into invisibility with a glow of cream-colored magic. Flare caught a glimpse of a single semi-transparent hoof before the stealthy unicorn was lost inside the undergrowth. She tried to suppress a shudder. No matter how many times she saw Glow’s special talent in action, it always managed to slightly creep her out. Once Flare was satisfied that Dusky was out of sight, she began making her way towards the camp, motioning for Wave to follow. He did so wordlessly, as usual.
A half-minute of stealthy trotting later, Crimson and Wave were both lying concealed behind a fern-covered ridge near the encampment. It was the perfect spot for an approach: close, concealed, and easy to escape from or duck behind if need be. Flare could see the nearest soldiers clearly now, everything from the sweat running off their backs to the wicked barbs of their spike rifle bayonets. She swallowed and drew her own rifle from her back holster. It was an old enchanted shortbarrel that she had substantially modified over the years, stripping out obsolete parts and adding new ones as she found them. It now sported a top-of-the-line scope, a suppressor, and even a steel griffon talon bayonet she had mounted under the barrel as a trophy from a mission long ago. It wasn’t the prettiest-looking weapon, but, as her old target instructor was fond of saying, “A gun don’t have to look pretty to put a slug through your head at two hundred yards.”
Flare smiled at the memory, then shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. Plenty of time to reminisce when the mission’s over. For now, focus on the task at hoof. She reached up to her com conch and tapped it twice, activating the device’s whisper mode. Barely moving her lips, she breathed to her squadmates:
“Everypony in position?”
“Storm here, bored but ready when you are.”
“Shadow responding. Stealthed and good to go.”
“All right.” said Flare. “Storm, fly up and get their attention.”
“You got it, Sparky.”
Crimson stared daggers at a nearby leaf, imagining it was the pegasus’ head. “Call me that again and I’ll clip your pinions.”
“I’m sure.”
There was a rush of static through the shell as Cirrus took off, arcing gracefully out over the outcropping before coming to a hover around 30 yards above the camp. He managed a single lazy circle around the trees before one of the guards noticed the unwanted company. The guard barked something in the harsh zebra language, motioning to the sky with a tattooed hoof. Within seconds, the camp was alive with angry shouts and the fwip-fwip-fwip of spike rifles. Cirrus dodged the volleys easily, taunting his attackers.
“Seriously? That’s the best you can do? I thought zebras were supposed to be expert shots. Guess you guys missed the memo.”
The zebras might not have understood the insult, but the pegasus’ insolent tone was clear enough. They redoubled their efforts, shooting round after round at the green blur whizzing around the night sky above the camp. Cirrus laughed, savoring the chance to showcase his flying skills. None of the shots had so much as ruffled his fur, let alone actually hit him. He looped and swerved, dodging and rolling to avoid the speeding projectiles. Every so often he would come to a dead stop, flashing his trademark grin and goading the soldiers on. “What, is that all you got?” The next second, he would be gone again, spiraling up into the humid night air without a care in the world.
On the ground below, the invisible silhouette of Dusky Glow was making its way quickly through the camp. Dodging a couple stray poison barbs and a pair of oblivious zebra commandos, she reached the first of the tents and yanked open the flap. Damn, she thought. Nothing but a couple dirty mattresses and some stale hay. The next four she searched yielded similar results. The fifth tent Dusky found was bigger than the rest, boasting elaborate designs and hangings on the sides. She lifted the flap and grinned. Ha! Jackpot.
Scattered across a makeshift table on the dirt floor of the tent were a series of faded papers, all covered with intricate zebra runes. The symbols pulsed and shifted in the flickering spell-light, almost as if they were drawing in night itself. Glow had no idea what they were, besides the fact that they were obviously important enough to warrant Crimson Team’s involvement. Tucking the sheets into her saddlebags, she turned to exit the tent, only to come nose-to-painted-nose with a very confused-looking zebra.
Reacting instinctively, Dusky lashed out with a right hook, aimed at the head. There was a thunk, and the bewildered commando crumpled instantly. Right in the temple. Never fails. She stepped over the body gingerly, exiting the tent, and set off at a quick trot back towards the forest. She whispered into her conch as she ran.
“Ember, this is Shadow. I’ve got our intel, but still no sign of the warlord.”
“Roger that, Shadow. Get back to cover. Wave and I will move in and try to find him ourselves.”
Dusky whispered her an affirmative, vaulting a rotting log near the back of the camp.
Just as she was about to make her escape, she felt a sudden, searing, pain in her hind leg. She collapsed on the ground in shock, barely avoiding crying out. Looking down, she felt the blood turn to ice in her veins.
Oh hell no.
A single white poison barb was protruding out below her flank, the tip coated a vivid, angry red. It obviously hadn’t been meant for her, considering she was effectively invisible. It had just been a lucky shot. Just a stupid, random, lucky shot. Buck.
Dusky tried to force her weary legs to move, to no avail. Already, she could feel her pulse getting sluggish, her heart and lungs struggling to keep up with the strain the deadly toxin was exerting on them. Her cloaking spell popped, flickered, and died, leaving her downed and exposed in the middle of enemy territory. She could see a couple curious zebras approaching the spot she had fallen, amidst the hail of angry shots that Cirrus was still provoking. Summoning her last vestiges of strength, she drew her revolver from its holster, gripping it in her teeth. She let her tongue find the trigger, aiming down the barrel at the approaching commandos. Glow smiled through the pain. If this is how I’m going down, then I’m going down fighting.
From behind the ridge, Crimson saw Dusky fall. She turned to Wave, her eyes like flint.
“Cover me.”
Flare vaulted over the rock, taking out the two closest zebras with a quick front jab and a half-buck. She heard the familiar bwrrrrrr of Wave’s chaingun spinning up behind her, and drew her own rifle in her teeth before setting off at a hard gallop towards where Dusky had gone down. Ally or enemy, it wasn’t a good idea to be anywhere near the Hexala when it started firing.
She darted through the camp, ducking and weaving between the zebras’ poison barbs and Wave’s enchanted bullets. A pair of guards noticed her amid the chaos and stepped to bar her way. BLAM. BLAM. They fell. The next three met similar fates.
Crimson saw the downed form of Glow on the ground ahead of her. The unicorn had her revolver gripped between her teeth, wincing at even the minor exertion of keeping the weapon upright. She had it pointed shakily at the squad of commandos converging on her, waving it in a weak attempt to intimidate them. The zebras laughed cruelly, savoring their victory. Or so they thought.
BLAM. BLAM. THUNKCRUNCHCRACK.
Flare grinned savagely, standing in the middle of a ring of recently-alive soldiers. “Not this time, assholes.”
Launching into another gallop, the medic grabbed Dusky with one hoof, throwing the black mare over her back without breaking stride. She sprinted back through the camp, dodging more shots as she neared the exit. These weren’t accidental. After Glow’s near-capture and Flare’s subsequent rescue, the entire camp was on high alert. Crimson noticed Cirrus silhouetted against the night sky above, diving low in an attempt to redirect the zebras’ fire. She reached the edge of the forest, ducked to avoid a toothbow bolt whizzing past, and set Glow down against a sheltered tree, panting.
“Team, this is Ember. Shadow’s down. Poison barb to the flank. Fall back and regroup near the ridge.”
Cirrus was the first to argue, as usual. “No can do, Sparky. As soon as I stop playing Wonderbolt, you’ll have an entire camp of armed zebras bearing down on your ass. I know you’re good, but you’re not that good.” he said, voice distorted by the rush of air.
Flare grunted in irritation. “Fine. Stay up there. Wave, hold your position and make sure he doesn’t die.”
“Roger.” The bwrrr of the Hexala could be heard again from the trees below, along with the panicked screams of the zebras in its line of fire.
Crimson put her head between her hooves, trying to block out the sounds of yells and gunfire. Focus, Flare. Follow the procedure. She knelt down next to the injured unicorn, opening the flap on her medic’s saddlebags as she did so. “Here, let me see it.”
Glow rolled over weakly, trying to move as little as possible in an attempt to minimize the pain. Flare couldn’t help but wince slightly as the wound came into view. The skin around the barb was a sickly green, already veined with angry red tendrils of infection. Zebra magic was fast and brutal.
“All right, let’s get that out.” One of the very few positives of zebra poison was that it clotted very effectively to stop any venom from leaking out of a wound. That meant she could easily extract the round without having to worry about Dusky bleeding out.
Grabbing a pair of tweezers between her teeth, the medical mare leaned forward and gave a sharp tug. There was a hiss of pain from Glow as she yanked the blood-covered spike out of the unicorn’s leg and threw it aside. “There, better now?” Glow mumbled something through the metal of the revolver in reply.
“Good. Now let me get the disinfectant...”
Flare took a out a small clear vial from her bag, holding it carefully between her hooves. She unscrewed the top with her mouth and trickled a couple drops directly onto the injury. The droplets sizzled and popped as they hit Glow’s skin, sending up wisps of amber steam. Phoenix tears. The most potent antivenom in Equestria, and it still won’t be enough. Damn the zebras. Damn them to hell.
Flare took a pad of gauze and wrapped it tightly around the wound, taking care not to press too hard on the affected area. She nodded in approval. “That should hold until we can get a full magical transfusion from a unicorn medic, which’ll need to be soon. Now, don’t move unless you want to die. Can you cloak?”
Dusky shook her head.
“Crud. All right, stay here and I’ll try to-”
Fwip-fwip-fwip! A flurry of barbs whizzed over Flare’s head, missing her ear by inches.
Oh for the love of- “Glow, stay down!”
She turned to see a squad of zebras galloping towards them, rifles drawn and throats alive with angry war cries. Flare grabbed her own rifle from against the tree, yanking the trigger twice.
BLAM BLAM.
Two zebra heads disappeared in a haze of pink mist. Flare sighted and pulled again.
BLAM BLAM click.
Oh, buck.
There was no time to reload. No time to think. Only to act.
Throwing her gun aside, along with any notion of caution or care for her own life, Crimson yelled and charged, ducking to avoid the first volley.
“Nopony hurts my squad, you bastards!”
The pure recklessness of the gesture made the commandos hesitate for a split second. Why, they wondered, would any creature, pony or zebra, do something so utterly stupid?
They realized their mistake a second too late.
Then Flare was upon them.
The white mare rippled and flickered through the squad like a dancer, hooves flashing and twirling in a twisted ballet. The only thoughts in her mind were the next strikes she had to make, and who she had to get through to make them.
CRACK. Left uppercut, watch the hind leg, pivot, follow through.
CRUNCH. Transfer the horizontal momentum downward, careful, bayonet, hind kick to low spin to double half-buck.
THUNK. Swoosh. CRACK-SNAP. Four down, one left. Watch his holster. Hind sweep to front throat buck, don’t let him grab the rifle.
WHAP. Dodge his right hook, then in for the kill.
THUD. Game over, motherbucker.
The final zebra staggered and fell, joining the several others splayed out across the hilltop. Crimson stepped back from the pile of bodies, still breathing heavily. She could already see another squad of commandos advancing up the hill, looking every bit as murderous as the first. Dammit. I can’t keep this up forever, and even if I could, Glow needs a transfusion yesterday. She reloaded her rifle, yelling into her mic as she did so.
“Crimson Team, regroup now!”
She aimed and fired again, taking out another three soldiers with a trio of well-placed shots. “Wave, flank them and pull their attention while I hold up here. Storm, get back and airlift Shadow to somewhere safer.”
BLAM BLAM BLAM.
Another three pulls, another three less soldiers. The whole camp was out in force now, most of the zebras having finally given up on hitting Cirrus entirely to focus on more easily-approached ground targets.
Wave rumbled an affirmative. Flare could see him slowly making his way around the camp towards her and Glow, mowing down any zebra stupid enough to get in his way.
At least he’s dependable, she thought.
“Storm, confirm?”
Cirrus yelled something indistinct over his mic in reply, the sound obscured by feedback and gunfire.
“Repeat that, Storm?” yelled Flare.
“I said, give me twenty seconds!”
In twenty seconds, Glow could die.
“Storm, get your flank up here NOW. That’s an order.”
BLAM BLAM. Two more. They just keep coming!
“Fifteen.”
“Storm, I swear with Celestia as my witness I will file you for discharge if you do not get up here and save your OWN DAMNED SQUADMATE!”
“Ten...”
“STORM!” What the HELL is he doing!?
Crimson paused to snipe another squad of zebras and reload, seething inwardly. If we lose her, so help me...
“Five, four...”
A flicker of sea-foam green shot across the sky above the camp, trailing something iridescent and lime-colored in its wake.
Was that...
“Three, two...”
Oh Celestia.
“One. Eat this, motherbuckers!”
Flare grabbed Dusky as gently as she could and dove behind a nearby tree.
“EVERPONY DOW-”
FWOOM.
A brilliant green mushroom cloud erupted from the center of the camp, turning the Zebrican night into dawn for a single eye-searing second. Flare felt the rush of air as every last bit of oxygen was sucked out from around the clearing to fuel the inferno now raging at its center. The shockwave followed a millisecond after, throwing her back against another tree with the power of a thousand hooves.
Crimson smacked against the trunk with a bone-rattling THUD, ears ringing and eyes burning with the afterimage of the blast. What in the hell...
She forced herself to her feet, still dazed, and staggered over towards the limp form of Glow. Please be okay, please be okay...
Flare put a hoof to the mare’s chest, feeling for the steady beat that would confirm Dusky’s condition. A second later, she sighed in relief.
Stable. Thank the Sisters. Hopefully the others are fine too. With a grimace, she forced herself upright again and called out to her squadmates.
“Crimson Team, report!”
“This is Wave. I’m fine. No sign of any living hostiles from this vantage point.”
“Copy that, Wave. Rendezvous with me at the hill ASAP.”
“On my way.”
“See you then. Storm, what’s your status?”
Besides ‘complete bucking idiot’, of course.
Her query was answered in the form of Cirrus landing next to her with a whoop.
“Hell yeah! Take that, you stripey-flanked jerk-offs!” The pegasus made a rude gesture at the still-burning remains of the nearby camp, a self-satisfied grin stretched across his face. “Spellfire lantern with a little bit of flaktree bark for flavor. Not bad for twenty seconds, huh?”
Flare’s jaw dropped.
“Not bad?! You nearly incinerated an acre’s worth of protected Zebrican rainforest, for ‘Tia’s sake! Do you have any idea what the political fallout will be if International Relations gets their hooves on this?”
Cirrus shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”
Flare facehoofed in resignation. “We’ll discuss this later.” She looked around the clearing and spotted Wave making his way towards them, looking slightly singed but none the worse for wear. The huge earth pony glanced around the group, frowning in concern as he saw Glow laid out against the tree.
“How is she?”
“Stable for now, thank Celestia. The phoenix tears won’t last too long, though. What she really needs is a full-body cleansing and transfusion from a unicorn medic.”
Wave nodded in comprehension. “Should we radio Com?”
“Seems like a good idea.” With another hoof-tap on her conch, Crimson opened a channel to Equestrian Special Tasks Force Internal Command, colloquially known as ‘Com’. There was a burst of static, then the familiar voice of Special Operations Commander Striper rang out from the shell, sounding as cool and collected as ever.
“Hello, Crimson Squad. I’m assuming this call is to confirm the success of Operation Verdant Dawn?” Commander Striper had never been one for small talk or beating around the bush, a trait that both infuriated and endeared her to many members of the ESTF.
Flare sighed. “You could say that.” She could almost see the Commander tapping her forehooves against the polished oak surface of her desk, chewing one of the chocolate candies from the permanently-filled bowl she kept close by. Maybe she’ll let me have a couple before I’m mem-wiped and thrown in the street for Code and Conduct Failure.
*************
Thousands of miles away, Striper sensed Flare’s apprehension. Her tone became softer, almost motherly. It was rare that the Commander showed any emotions beyond cool, calculating indifference, but when she did, she meant every word.
“All right. You can give me a full debriefing when you’re here, safe, in my office. For now, the only thing I’m concerned with is getting the four of you out of there as soon as possible.” Striper paused, sounding wary. “...Any casualties?”
She hated that question, hated it with the burning passion of a thousand fiery suns. All too many times, she had asked it, only to be met with the hollow, broken tone of a pony who had just lost their friendly rival, their drinking buddy, their best friend. There was no consoling a pony like that. No words to fill the void that would forever replace a piece of their heart, no vision to make them forget the last time they had seen their squadmate alive and happy.
Striper shook her head, scolding herself. Don’t dwell on it, dammit. They’re gone, and crying about it won’t bring them back.
Crimson’s voice came again through her desk’s built-in speakers.
“Nothing fatal yet, but Shadow’s incapped. Spike rifle barb to the flank. I’ve medicated it the best I can, but she needs a full C&T from a medical mage, and fast.” Striper gave a silent sigh of relief.
“Roger that, Agent Ember. Expect an emergency waygate in five.”
“Thanks, Commander.” With another hiss of static, the line went dead.
Striper leaned back in her chair, a rare smile making its way across her lips. I wonder what kind of stunt that flying instrument of terror Cirrus managed to pull off this time. She stood up and trotted toward the large, gilded door of her office, unwrapping another candy with her tongue as she did so. The unicorn technicians were always a bit touchy about being asked to provide dimensional waygates on short notice, and she didn’t need to add an empty stomach to her laundry list of concerns for the day. The confections weren’t strictly a part of the diet that the her personal manager had prescribed to her, but Striper figured what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. The mare chuckled to herself, savoring the sweet taste of cocoa and fruit filling. Honestly. With the business I’m in, the things I’ve seen, and the missions I’ve ordered, the last thing to kill me will be a couple extra chocolates.
Striper swallowed contentedly and pushed open the door, setting off down the hallway at a brisk, professional trot. No point in anypony getting the wrong idea about their commander. As much as she despised fluff and bureaucracy, certain appearances did need to be kept, if only for the sake of appeasing the higher-ups in Canterlot.
She turned off down one of ESTFIC’s many hallways, her appearance prompting a wave of salutes from the various ponies passing by.
Striper rolled her eyes. Would it kill them to be a little less formal once in a while? Just once, I would like to walk into a room without feeling like I’m interrupting my own memorial service.
“At ease.” The ponies resumed their duties.
Shaking her head, the commander continued walking towards the waygate generation lab. Hopefully Agent Shadow will heal up sooner rather than later. I hate to put more pressure on Crimson Squad, but we need the best. Striper sighed, her expression turning grave as she remembered the debriefing she herself had received just hours earlier.
Especially when all of Equestria’s at stake.