//------------------------------// // The Hammer Strikes // Story: Warriors Of Justice // by Bluegrass Brooke //------------------------------// Coffee was awful stuff, though it did serve one critical purpose, the foul black liquid kick-started any sluggish morning. Though, being a night security guard, Ambit’s “mornings” were closer to evenings, but he was not getting technical. With a mechanical rhythm achieved through years of repetition, Ambit flattened the navy hairs of his already perfect buzz cut, slipped on his starched white uniform, straightened his tie, and buckled his utility belt. It was all part of the routine, and that at least was some measure of comfort. He stood in front of his mirror hung from the coat closet door, puffing out his rather unsubstantial chest in what he hoped was a look of utmost confidence and intimidation. Truth be told, there was precious little that could be considered intimidating about his diminutive frame and stunted legs, but he would be the last pony in Equestria to admit it. So he turned away, striding across the pristine and decidedly utilitarian apartment to grab his hat off of its rack. This was serious business, and as the commander of security operations for Eincorn Pharmaceuticals, it was his duty to impress. With a flourish, he slammed the door shut with his magic and made his way down the stairs. Today was another day to whip his men into shape. His unit’s annual inspection was coming up, and Ambit would be damned if he let them lose even a single point. This was his mission, and, come hell or high water, he would make sure it was a successful one. Complacence was the natural enemy of justice. As a Warrior of Justice herself, Amelia knew full well the consequences of such complacence. So she took it upon herself to stay as alert and aware as possible, even if that meant certain “sacrifices.” Paper pusher for the Boston police department was far from the glamorous job of her dreams, but it had one distinct advantage and that was information. Amelia stared at a particularly large chunk of information yet to be filed away with a frown. Petty theft, vandalism, missing pets, all the cases that did not warrant the department’s attention or hers for that matter. Still she would persevere, for buried within the confines of these files were secrets. Dark, dangerous plots criminals thought they got away with it. Well, Amelia Airhooves was not about to stand by and let that happen, not on her watch. “File this one with the others, Amelia.” A familiar, greying sergeant set the manila folder on her desk, walking by without so much as changing his gait. “Another day, another disaster,” he mumbled under his breath in a near perfect monotone. Amelia pounced on the envelope like a hungry wolf. He had made no secret of his nearby conversation with the marshal about this one. It wasn’t everyday less than reputable research practices were brought to light. And the fact that the company was corporate giant Eincorn Pharmaceuticals made the justice all the sweeter. However, those lazy detectives had dismissed the anonymous tip as a false alarm without even investigating its validity. Those crooks were in for a nasty surprise, for tonight Amelia Airhooves would bring the Hammer of Justice upon them once and for all. “Let justice prevail!” “Uh, Amelia? What are you doing?” The sergeant had turned around, staring open mouthed at her. “Rallying the forces of justice, Sergeant! We are crushing evil under our hooves.” He rolled his amber eyes. “Yeah, well, could our rally flag get off the desk now?” Amelia looked down, realizing that she had jumped on the cluttered desk. A warm sensation under her hooves drew her attention to the coffee soaking through her snow white feathers. Great, that’s going to stain. Reluctantly, she climbed off of the desk. “Of course, sergeant. I’ll just, get this picked up.” Without another word, he made his way down the hall once more, mumbling something about “nobles.” “I heard that!” She grabbed a stress ball off of the desk, throwing it dead center against the back of his head. “The Airhooves are Warriors of Justice, not mere nobles.” He waved his hoof in a carry on motion. “Well, don’t let me stop you, ‘warrior,’ there’s the mile left to go.” Amelia’s lavender eyes darted to the mountain of files on her desk. Scooping them up, she trotted down the hallway towards the record room. By the time she had arrived, her trailing black and white tail was covering in dust and sundry office supplies. Some days she wondered why she even bothered brushing it out. “Good morning, Fury.” A wild-maned sorrel looked up from his desk, grinning broadly. “Well if it isn’t Amelia.” He eyed her tight bun with that strange focus he always used around her. “You know, it’d look a lot better if you let it down. It’s a downright shame hiding all that beauty for yourself you know.” Amelia felt her cheeks grow warm. Fury was a decent pony, but his advances were ill-concealed even to her. “I rather like it put up, Fury. Besides,” she clapped her spotted hoof on the desk, “a Warrior of Justice does not flaunt her beauty, but remains humble at all times.” Huffing, she snatched the key resting behind him with a quick flick of her tail. Opening the cage, she turned back to face him, petite frame puffed to its fullest height. “And I wouldn’t date you if you were the last stallion in Equestria! Some Warrior of Justice you are, getting stuck here for misappropriating funds.” Without another word, she whirled around towards the file cabinets. She had to focus. There was only four or five minutes tops to memorize the information in the file, best to make it count. “What do you think you are doing, Fields?” Ambit glowered up at the teenager leaning casually against the multi thousand bit piece of delicate machinery. “Is that a fencepost or an instrument?” Fields blew a strand of his over-long black forelock out of his eyes, “Chill out, Ambit, it’s all good.” “It’s not ‘all good!’” Ambit stamped his tiny hoof as hard as he could against the linoleum which did little more than make a barely audible click. “How many times have I told you to respect the equipment? And what is that,” he gestured to Field’s stained, wrinkled, and crooked uniform, “doing on my night watch?” “What? I had hoofball practice this afternoon.” He smirked, showing off his perfect set of teeth, “Not all of us are uptight old men that spend all day cleaning uniforms.” “I am not old!” I’m thirty . . . that’s not old. Ambit lit his horn, dragging the bay down to his eye level. “Listen, kid, there’s an inspection coming up. You want to be the one to tell the boss that you broke the company’s expensive piece of machinery because you used it as a fencepost?” “No, sir,” he mumbled, averting eye contact with him. “But, we’re security guards. It’s not like this is the Royal Guard!” Ambit twitched at the mention of the Guard. It always came back to the Guard. Every stallion in his family had made the Guard, his brothers included. Every stallion but him. “I don’t want to hear about them, Fields! We can be just as disciplined as they are. Whatever happened to pride in your work, huh?” “Dude, this is a part time job for me,” he twirled his forelock absent-mindedly, “I only work here because it pays more than minimum wage.” “Urgh! If a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right, Fields.” Ambit sighed, looking away. What did the kid know about jobs? Undoubtedly, he spent his days leeching off of his parents and flirting with mares. It wasn’t his career on the line. “Some of us take pride in our job, Fields, and I would at least like you to respect that. Do I make myself clear?” Fields stood straighter. “Yes, sir, it won’t happen again.” “It’d better not,” Ambit growled in his gravelly voice. “Get a move on, Private, there’s work to be done.” As he led the way down the narrow hall, he could not help but scan the vicinity for anything out of the ordinary. It had become so much of a habit that he didn’t lose a single beat, which was important as Fields’s strides were easily twice as long as his. This resulted in him trotting to keep pace. “So, how’s that mare of yours doing?” Ambit remarked, still scanning their path. “Good, I’m taking her to the prom tomorrow night.” He tossed his mane in a showy manner. “I’m the new hoofball captain you know.” Yes, and a complete idiot. Though, Ambit could not help but feel the slightest tinge of jealousy. For years and years he had looked forward to playing hoofball with his big brothers only to find that he was too short to even be considered for the team. “What about you, sir? Got anypony special?” Ambit stopped so suddenly he nearly hit his head on the floor from the inertia. “What? I . . . I . . .” The heat began to rise in his cheeks as he stared at the kid. Though a run-of-the-mill question, the subject never ceased to strike a nerve. “No, no I don’t,” he snapped. Seeing the Private’s confused stare, he sighed, staring hard at his deformed legs. “I don’t get to have a family, Private.” No mare wanted to date a dwarf, a fact his parents were constantly driving home. ‘Think about it, Ambit. There’s a good chance any foal you have will be like you. What kind of mare wants that worry hanging over her head?’ “Sorry, sir.” “Don’t be.” Ambit straightened, taking his most confident stance despite the uncomfortable churning in his stomach. “I wouldn’t want to be bogged down with a family anyway.” It was a downright lie of course. He would give everything he owned in a heartbeat if he could meet a mare who would love him for who he was. There was nothing particularly unattractive about him, well apart from his obvious limitation. Despite that fact, he had never once been on a date. “Come along, Fields, we’ve chatted enough.” “Right, sir.” Ambit trotted towards the center of the massive research facility while Fields walked at what must have been a leisurely pace for him. By the time they arrived at their modest base of operations, Ambit’s chocolate coat was lathered in sweat. “All right, then.” He swung open the door with his magic and was greeted by the rest of their surveillance troops. The all looked his way, shooting him a smile before returning monitoring the myriad collection of surveillance videos. Ambit gestured the oldest, a mahogany unicorn with the largest overbite in all of Boston. “How goes it, Mavrick?” “Tested all of the cameras, re-calibrated the sensors, and stored the old footage.” His eyes darted to Ambit’s now sweat stained uniform. “You all right?” “Fine,” he snapped, feeling everypony’s eyes on him. Though he had followed a stringent PT schedule for years, he had more important issues on his mind. A recent conversation with his boss floated to the forefront of his mind. ‘As you know, Ambit, your contract runs out at the end of this month.’ I know, sir. It took every ounce of his willpower not to shake like a frightened child. ‘I know that you’ve expressed interest in becoming a full time member of our team. However, we just want you to be aware that we’re keeping our options open.’ Options, sir? He looked away, adjusting his shirt collar. ‘Well, it’s not that you’re not a good leader, Ambit, but,’ The greying stallion’s eyes drifted to his legs as if they were covered in tattoos or scars, ‘your condition makes performing the essential functions of the job difficult.’ Ambit bristled, My condition? What, do you have a problem with dwarfs? ‘No but, you must admit, it does little to intimidate and as commander of security operations that is your job.’ But I do my job just fine! Those ponies respect me. His boss leaned forward, eying him appraisingly. ‘You’re trying too hard, son. Now, you might be getting away with it for the moment, but they’ll pick up it soon enough.’ “Commander?” Mavrick waved a hoof in front of him, snapping him out of his trance. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Ambit snorted, kicking the tall unicorn in the shin. “Shut up and get to work. You there,” he jerked his head towards the Fields who was lingering by the doorframe, “get your sorry ass over here and take these new walkies to the others.” Fields slunk forward, eyes focused on the switchboard and monitors. He reached out for the saddlebag of supplies, but Ambit held out a hoof. “Yes, sir?” “One other thing, Private.” Ambit turned to his desk, drawing out a pair of scissors in his navy magic. “Take these and make yourself presentable.” “Presentable?” Ambit clapped a hoof to his forehead. “Your mane, Fields. It looks like a mare’s.” His three surveillance specialists burst into laughter. Ambit watched with some satisfaction as the dejected teenager scooped up the saddlebags, placing the scissors in them and slinking out of the room. “Double time, Fields!” “Yes sir,” came his somewhat snarky reply. There was the sound of cantering hooves, then a pleasant silence. After a quick glance around, Ambit turned to his desk. The circular deal was located in the center of the room, allowing him to monitor the specialists’ progress. Jumping onto his newspaper bolstered office chair, he turned to the desk monitors. Eincorn did not skimp on quality equipment. This new beauty allowed him to view any of the surveillance monitors as needed. That and it provided control of every one of their patented traps. A perfect setup for dealing with miscreants and would-be saboteurs. The night began to tick by as usual. No conversation, just the way he preferred it. As he tried to focus, Ambit could not stopper the sinking sensation in his gut. Would this be one of the last days he spent with them? Over the last two years, they had developed a kind of camaraderie, maybe even a friendship. Now it was all in jeopardy, all because of the one factor he could not control. Ambit was certain that unless he pulled some kind of miraculous stunt, it would all come to an end in two weeks time. And where would that land him financially? There was no way his parents would be willing to bail out the family screw up. ‘You can’t even hold a steady job for two lousy years? What kind of idiot are you?’ Amit nearly fell off his chair when their normally stoic surveillance specialist leapt to her hooves as though she had been electrocuted. His head jerked over to her, “Report, Thyme.” “Monitor five, sir.” In a split second, he pulled it up, leaning down to get a better look. A predatory snarl stretched across his face. “We’ve got a visitor.” Wow, would you look at that. Amelia had seen fancy setups, but this took the cake. There in front of her was the most heavily guarded research facility she had ever seen. Lights, barbed wire, what looked like laser sights, and Equestria knew what else surrounded the massive structure. Geez, it’s like a prison. This might take a little more planning than usual. Amelia glanced down at her utility belt, careful not to rock the pine tree she was perched atop. Gadgets upon gadgets, her lilac cape, the glider, grappling hook, and a few other surprises for just such an occasion. She gave a quick once over to check that her mane and tail were tightly bound. The last thing she needed would be to trip on this mission. A loud whirring noise started up, making her heart jump. Thankfully, it proved to be Eincorn’s state of the art refrigeration unit in action—the perfect distraction for her plan. Now or never, Amelia. Slamming her tophat onto her head, and adjusting her trusty monocle, she leapt into action. Her self-designed glider made landing on rooftops ridiculously easy. It was a necessary tool for any Warrior of Justice, and enabled her to bag many a crook in her time. After setting hoof daintily on the rooftop, she closed the glider. With the agility of a cat, she crept along, concealing herself in the shadows. The layout of Eincorn’s research facility was etched in her mind’s eye, and it was easy enough to visualize the winding hallways passing under her hooves. In a matter of minutes, she had reached her destination. The skylight was the perfect entry point for her mission, and would land her extremely close to the file room. The evidence would be there, she was sure of it. She withdrew the laser cutter from her toolbelt, carefully tracing the outline of the skylight. Using the suction feature on her boots, she grabbed the glass before it could crash to the floor, stowing it on the roof tiles just to the left of where it belonged. With one last deep breath, she jumped downward, initiating the glider as she did. The ensuing sensation made her stomach lurch in that pleasant manner of a roller coaster ride. Spiraling downward like a black and white butterfly, she landed gracefully atop the linoleum—right in-between two guards lurking in the shadows. Uh-oh . . . The pimply teenager with a coat not unlike overcooked carrot soup reacted first. Though pitiably slow, he managed to raise his taser before Amelia’s net gun exploded with a crack. The next second, the kid was hopelessly entangled in fine netting. The other guard—an earth pony mare with a face like a bulldog—charged at her like a cornered rhino. With no effort at all, Amelia dodged. Unfortunately, the hem of her cape caught under the mare’s shovel-like hooves. Down she fell with an unceremonious thud. The mare cackled as one befitting an enemy of justice. Amelia however, refused to yield. With lightning-fast reflexes—or at least modestly fast ones—she lept to her hooves. Though at least three heads shorter than this mare, she would be victorious. The scales of justice were on her side after all. As the mare prepared to charge again, Amelia tossed an unassuming ball towards her target. It bounced lazily across the distance between them, rolling to a stop with a pitiful thud against the guard’s hoof. “What? We playin’ fetch or something?” she growled mockingly. Amelia smirked, “Bouncy Ball of Justice!” At her command words, the ball exploded into a magically-induced jig. It bounced against the mare’s chin, ribs, and back—pelting her with a barrage befitting of the solid rubber orb. The mare squealed in pain, trying to punt the ball, but it was too fast. That’ll keep her occupied. Amelia charged off towards the file room. Stopping just short of the door, she clicked her monical’s laser detection button on, bathing the room in a red-tinged glow. Perfect. As carefully as her natural klutziness would allow, Amelia wove towards the filing cabinets. Finding the one labeled ‘current research,’ she began to hoof through the folders. After what felt like ages, she surfaced with the incriminating file. Retracing her earlier steps, Amelia managed to sneak past the lasers again. However, the silence in the hallway told her something had gone wrong. Where had the mare gone? And what about Mr. Pimple? “Well, well, well, look what I’ve caught here,” A deep voice drawled from the shadows as if in response. The figure stepped forward, bathing himself in the moonlight streaming from the open skylight. If his voice was anything to go by, she would have guessed him to be a tall, burly stallion with a face built to sink. What she saw was nothing less than comical. For a moment, she could only laugh at the ludicrous stallion in front of her. He had a blocky but pleasant featured face, a buzz cut to rival any royal guard’s, and what had to be the most professional looking security guard get-up she had ever seen. However, though he looked like a normal stallion from the belly up, he sported a set of stubby little legs that hardly lifted him off the ground. Amelia was distinctly reminded of her friend’s pet corgi. “Aweee. It’s a little bitty unicorn. So cute!” His eye twitched, “What did you just call me?” The pony strode forward with the crispest march Amelia had ever seen. He stopped a few feet from her, standing at a kind of attention. “Name’s Ambit, commander of security operations for Eincorn Pharmaceuticals.” “Oh, so you’re in charge then.” Amelia giggled, trying to picture those guards she fought off taking orders from the most adorable little fellow she had ever seen. “What’s so funny?” Amit’s icy tone stopped her laughter in a split second. Something about his attitude seemed to scream he meant business. “I am not cute.” His horn lit up and Amelia found herself wrapped in his navy magic. Then, before she could register what was happening, a wave of agony swept over her. She started to scream, writhing on the cold floor until the spell ran its course. From the icy glare he was giving her, it was no stretch of the imagination to say that she was in serious trouble. This stallion was bad, just the type of pony she took down on a regular basis. Now the tables had turned. All she could do was watch helplessly as he levitated the files strewn across the floor. “Give those back!” Abit raised an eyebrow, “Seriously? Are you that dumb?” He sighed theatrically, “I swear, you criminal scum are all the same.” Amelia twitched. “What did you just call me?” It was her turn to use an icy tone, “I am a Warrior of Justice, not a criminal.” “Uh-huh.” Ambit frowned, stuffing the papers back into their file without so much as glancing over them. “You’ll have to think of a better story than that, missy.” Her heart skipped a beat. He had to be joking. Couldn’t he tell just by looking at her she was no criminal? Well, apart from breaking and entering, but certain sacrifices had to be made in the fight for justice. “I’m on the side of justice. I’ve come to take down this house of corruption once and for all.” She jerked her head to the folder, “Those documents prove I’m telling the truth!” Ambit’s eyes flickered to the folder held in his magic, then set it neatly against the wall. “Listen here, I don’t see how breaking into our reputable,” he emphasized the word, “company’s research facility counts as fighting for justice.” “Your company’s not reputable! They’ve been hurting ponies with their awful experiments.” Amelia felt like crying. Why were all the guards the same? All they cared about was their precious job, not even bothering to seek out the truth. “You’re a horrible pony, Ambit!” “What did you say?” “You heard me, you’re horrible.” She bit back the urge to cry, “First you tie me down, then you hurt me with your evil spell, and then you go and say I’m a criminal! Take a look at my cutie mark, or is that too much effort for a lazy security guard like yourself.” Ambit snarled, but said nothing. Rather, he strode forward, lifting her cape with his magic. His eyes widened as he stared at the scales of justice plastered on her flank. “You’re . . . you’re telling the truth.” He took a few steps away from her as though she were carrying some sort of disease. It was then Amelia noticed the stallion’s cutie mark. It really was beautiful; a decorative, golden compass branching out like a star. “So that’s why you’re so grouchy!” “What?” He looked at her as though she had lost all trace of sanity. “Poor stallion forced to work as a security guard when his true calling is making maps.” There was a pause, then Ambit’s almost unnaturally light laugh echoed around the hallway. “Seriously? I am not a mapmaker.” He cleared his throat, standing straight. “Ambit, a boundary or limit. I am a leader, I give direction to those under my command, pointing them down the right path and keeping them in line.” Amelia could not help but smile at his little speech. The right path, huh? Maybe this pony was different after all. Maybe, just maybe, she could convince him. “If you lead ponies down the path, why don’t you care to investigate that the path is even one you should go on? There’s an awful lot of roads out there you know.” “I know because I’ve always known.” Ambit puffed out his tiny chest, which did nothing but make him look more ridiculous. “Really? Because I can guarantee you this company is not going down the right path.” She jerked her head to the files, “The proof’s in there. You’re just a puppet to the seat of corruption!” Ambit bit his lip, looking away. “Listen, you don’t . . . don’t understand what it’s like. I need this job. I can’t,” he glanced over at the files, “I can’t afford to lose it because of some hunch.” “So you’ll serve criminals then?” “Yes!” Ambit stared sadly into her eyes, “You don’t know what it’s like. You’re just some idealistic girl who runs around, imagining herself to be a ‘Warrior of Justice.’” “I don’t imagine myself to be one. I am a Warrior of Justice!” Amelia glowered back at him, “What are you? Just some wimpy little stallion that won’t stand up for what’s right because he’s worried about losing his job. It’s complacence like yours that’s the real enemy of justice!” Before she knew it, a well aimed kick struck her in the chest, sending her gasping for breath. Ambit’s ears were pinned back, but there was a look of desperation in his eyes she had never seen before. “Don’t pretend to understand me!” He looked down at his crisp uniform with a frown, “Do you know how hard it is for a dwarf like me to get respect? Two years. Two years before they’d trust me with any responsibility. Everypony thinks I’m a laughing stock!” “That’s not so bad.” Amelia shot him an encouraging smile. “It’s better to be thought of as funny than as a grumpy Gus.” An aura surrounded his horn again, but slowly dissipated. Ambit looked at her with a stomach churning disgust. “Really? How would you like to switch places, eh? Be laughed at every time you ask to join a conversation. To be treated like a dumb little kid when all you want them to do is hear you out.” His voice softened until it was barely above a whisper, “To have every mare you ask on a date think you’re joking.” Amelia could only stare at him, heart sinking. There was an awkward silence, then the stallion strode forward, until he was looking down at her. Ropes wound around her legs, tightening in a way that still allowed her to walk. Then, without ceremony, he dragged on the ropes. “Come on, I'm taking you into custody." "Cu-custody?" Amelia's heart sank. No, no, no! I'm a Warrior of Justice not a criminal! "Mister Ambit, please." "No more talking. Let's go." Reluctantly, Amelia kept pace behind the stallion's tiny strides. With each hooffall, she felt her spirit sink. She had done it now . . .