A Circle Has No End: Volume I

by Gladi Writes

False Flags IV

Wildcard quickly disassembled the rifle, with the flair of a seasoned professional. He had practiced this procedure in his training, although he hadn't expected to need it in practice so quickly. Even while chaos exploded outside, and gunshots rang through the air alongside screams, he was calm. He was terrified, as anypony would be at the moment, but he was calm. Everything had been arranged just so, days ago, and now he only needed to survive through them. His shot had been taken by the anarchists as a sign "it was time", and they had gone to work.

Now he only needed to get out of Ponyville.

The sound of heavy hoof steps sounded outside, a half dozen armed ponies heading up to his position. Wildcard had just finished packing up when they broke down the door, and a squad of thestrals charged in with weapons drawn.

They saw Velvet Glove, and a rifle case, on the floor before them. The conclusion was obvious, and they trained their weapons on her. The largest, with a scar over one eye and ancient pit marked armour, had only a small pistol to go with his comrades rifles.

“Hooves in the air! Against the wall!” One of them shouted towards him.

Wildcard didn’t have time to do as ordered before two others tackled him, and drove his head up against the brick wall of the room. They weren’t playing nice, which was certainly to be expected considering what he just did.

“Shooter secured, moving to extraction,” their leader spoke into a radio, and then led the group out.

Two of them pulled Wildcard along, gripping his legs tightly. Two more stayed behind, so close that their rifles constantly tapped the back of their head. The leader was constantly getting orders, but the noise from outside drowned out his replies. It was not going well out there, apparently.

“Sixth street is blocked, we’ll have to go around to seventh. Keep her tight- I’m not going to have some goddamn vigilante buck this up!” The lead thestral said, and halted his group just before the exit of the book depository.

Smoke wafted in from outside, and a police officer ran past, dodging a barrage of rocks thrown his way.

“Guns ready, let’s go!” The lead ordered, and barreled into the street. The rest pulled Wildcard along, and Wildcard entered into the chaotic streets of Ponyville.

Pony against pony, in a dramatic free-for-all. Everywhere he looked, was violence. Gunfire echoed from every direction, and the air-raid sirens blared in the background for whatever good that might do. Here and their police officers were doing their damnedest, but the situation was leagues beyond them. Wildcard lit the match, and now the keg had exploded. Ponies sheltered behind overturned carts, but the anarchists didn't care who they fought, and civilians were forced to protect themselves with whatever they could find. A father looked at him, from behind an applecart, with his children huddled around him. He had only a service rifle her had somehow gotten to protect them, and the thestrals had no time to help.

A shot rang out, and dust shot into Wildcard’s face from in front of them.

“Shooter on the roof!” the lead thestral shouted, and drove the group against the closest wall.

He shot back from under a small overhang, as the group huddled together outside the door to a barber shop. Across the street somepony was shooting at them, and the thestrals were firing back.

“That’s her, that’s who did it!”

The ponies in the street, busy with their own squabbles, paused for a second.

Somewhere, something exploded, and a wave of smoke washed down the street. One of the thestrals kicked the door behind them open, and the group moved inside. Two of them moved to cover the window, and Wildcard was tossed on the ground.

“You move, you die!” The lead thestral shouted, and took a position beside the door.

Wildcard wasn’t stupid, and did as asked. His life lied with these thestrals now, hopefully Malgavian’s best were up to the task.

“What do we have?” He ordered his men.

“Two shooters, one on the roof and one shooting from a window- second on the right!”

The thestral that said that stuck up his head to look from the window, and then crack of another gunshot sounded out, and a second later the thestral’s head was thrown back, and he collapsed to the ground. His comrade fired in return, and Wildcard saw a pony fall off the roof across the street.

“God damnit, this situation is totally out of hoof. Didn’t we have an alicorn backing us up?” the leader said.

“I’m sure the Princess of Friendship has more import-“

The thestral replying was shut up when a bullet whizzed past his face, and impacted just inches away from Wildcard’s head. He fired in reply, and it found the mark.

“We’re clear, let’s go!”

The lead thestral scooped up Wildcard, and threw him on his armoured back. The armour cut into him and bruised his chest, but he bore it as the group ran back into the street. Gunfire greeted them at random, and they fired in return.

“Buck this, run!” The lead shouted, and galloped forward into the smokey street. They blew past overturned carts and surprised police, but everypony thankfully seemed too busy with their own private struggles to care.

A gunshot from the blue struck one of the thestrals, but he only grimaced, and fired a return shot right between the shooters eyes. It would be the last person that tried to shoot them, because they quickly leapt over a small barricade, and into a clearing around where a dozen more thestrals had taken positions with heavy guns. In the centre a helicopter waited, its fuselage emblazoned with the crest of the new Night Guard. It's engine was on, and it blew snow around revealing the still green grass beneath.

“Sledge secure, move out and pacify the town!” The lead thestral shouted, and his group broke off, as he continued to the helicopter.

He shrugged off Wildcard, who hit the ground painfully, and then threw him into the back. Another set of hooves grabbed him, and quickly shoved him down into a seat, and then slammed a pair of hoof cuffs that secured him to the arm rest.

The two guards opposite him kept their rifles trained on him even as the helicopter took off, and from the air Wildcard got a look at Ponyville. Dozens of fires spewed smoke out into the sky, and the crack of random gunfire persisted even when they got to height.

Wildcard looked away from it, and at the thestral opposite him. That pony smirked, and the sun gleamed off a golden tooth.

“Girl, you’re in for a world ‘a hurt.”

____

Doctor Colgate, having happened to be in Ponyville at the time, found herself at the head of a triage centre that made the Town Hall its home. It was utter chaos outside, and it seemed almost like the war had come home. Gunfire, screams, and the odd explosion or whistle of a flare broke into the air, but the really horrific noise was those of the dead and dying around her. Those ponies that Trotsky had brought were not good people, and they had torn through the crowd as soon as “it” started. Colgate could only hope that the police could get things under control eventually.

The two soldiers guarding the door, shaking with fear, didn’t buoy her hopes much.

Colgate continued fighting for the pony on the table before her. She had taken one to the gut, and was only barely holding onto life. The sniper had been evilly specific in where he put his shot. Right in the gut, maximum pain and minimal chance to survive. Colgate fought desperately, but the internal wounds were simply too severe. After a few minutes working, the poor thestral closed her eyes for good.

Colgate sighed, and snapped off her bloody gloves.

“Trotsky will hang for this.”

_____

Hours later the situation in Ponyville had calmed down enough that the regular police were able to take over from the thestrals, who had lost no less than a dozen of their number in street battles. The police fared no better, and would be short hoofed for months. Ponyville was a war zone, and not a single building had come out unscathed. Night Guard helicopters hovered overhead tracking down any loitering ponies, and as the sun fell their lights kept the city lit as if it never had. Throughout the long night the riotous militia that Trotsky had brought in continued attacking at random, with the odd gunshot ringing out well into the next morning. Dozens more had tried to run, and were stopped by checkpoints set up outside the city. Trotsky himself had vanished, and that morning Queen Luna made an announcement.

“… the crimes of this pony cannot be understated. I have received proof that he has conspired with Mezza Luna in the past, and it is probably that he thinks as she did. He seeks to tear down our peaceful and just society, and establish his own in its place. To that I say: no! I will not give into the terrorist actions of a single evil pony! I will hunt him to the ends of this earth, and to that effect I am offering a two million bit reward for any information that leads to the arrest of this heinous villain! We stand together with Ponyville, we stand together as ponies! Together, we will move fearlessly as one, and shrug aside this callous acts!…”

Bold words indeed, which Wildcard heard from a radio near his cell. He had been flown to Canterlot, and now he made a cell in the mountain his home. The Night Guard had spent all night interrogating him, and he gave them exactly what they both wanted.

“Trotsky planned it, Trotsky ordered it. He told be if I succeeded that the entire populace would rise up at once and smash the state. He’s still out there, and he’ll be back! We will tear down this unjust monarchy, justice will be done!”

This had been met with a rifle-butt to the face, and Wildcard rubbed his sore cheek. He had everything he wanted, and now he only needed to wait for events to conclude.

Outside he heard hoofsteps, and the jingle of keys. Wildcard shot up, and pooled his remaining energy into keeping his disguise up. Just as he expected, a cloaked figure approached the cell, and stuck a key into the door.

“Let’s go, Velvet. I’ve got transport to the southern states, we’ll be safe there,” Trotsky said, and dropped the hood of his cloak.

He smiled warmly at the one he loved so much, and put a hoof around her shoulder.

“That was stupid of you, incredibly stupid. I lost everything I tried to build today, but maybe it’s for the best. We can move to the south, you and I. Settle down, build a family,” he said, and gripped her tightly.

“It’ll all be okay.”

Wildcard sighed, and felt up Trotsky’s leg. The stallion coughed, and then looked at her bemusedly.

“I’m sure that can w-“

He stared at his partner in shock, as he found himself suddenly facing the business end of his own handgun.

“I’m really sorry about this, but you knew the rules of the game,” Wildcard said, and backed off enough to be able to get a shot off if he lunged.

“What… game? You didn’t make a deal with the government did you? They’re lying!” Trotsky accused, and stared at her with a look of astonishment.

“No, no I don’t think we are. We…”

Trotsky began to hyperventilate, and lost his footing. He sagged against the iron bars of Wildcard’s cage, and tears streamed down his face as he looked at him.

“Velvet, don’t do this! I love you, come with me to the south!” he pleaded.

Wildcard dropped his disguise, and Trotsky fell to the floor.

“W…what?”

Silver Shield, and two other changelings, appeared in the hall behind Trotsky. They were carrying the real Velvet Glove between them, and stepped past the devastated stallion into her cell.

“You… you did this? A lie? All of it?” Trotsky babbled.

Silver dumped Velvet into the cell, and strode out to meet Wildcard. He tossed him an officers uniform, and took a look at Trotsky.

“Damn, I expected him to be…”

Trotsky leaned against the bars, sobbing and mumbling incoherently to himself.

“… taller.”

Wildcard dropped the handgun, and stepped over Trotsky. He reached out, and grabbed Wildcard by his leg.

Wildcard looked back, and Trotsky looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.

“Why?”

Wildcard tore back his leg, and Trotsky sprawled out on the floor. He gestured Silver to leave, and he took his two changelings back down the hallway with him.

“You played your hand, but you never thought I could see it did you? I’ve been on you the entire week, and I planned this whole thing. I meant to destroy you Trotsky, and now look at you. Your factories are nationalized, your love is fake, and your fortune is gone. You’ll be hanged before the sun rises tomorrow, and even your love was fake. You picked a fight with the wrong person, Trotsky,” Wildcard said.

“You?”

“My wife.”

Wildcard watched him slowly tumble through events in his mind, and then he weakly came to his hooves. He leapt for his gun, and slid around to point it at Wildcard.

“You’ll get one shot off before the guards are on you,” Wildcard said, and strode forward so that the gun touched his chest.

“Are you sure you want to waste it on me?”

Trotsky trembled, and then dropped the gun. It clattered on the ground, and was followed by him breaking down into tears. Wildcard left him there, and adjusted his new uniform before trotting down the hallway. There were alarm panels everywhere, and Wildcard tripped the nearest. The alarm went off, and he slipped down a side corridor past some guards hurrying to the source. He met Silver a short while later, and was led to a waiting airship that would take him to Ponyville.

“Man, you look like shit,” Silver said to him as they boarded.

____

Wildcard arrived at his home a few hours earlier, and entered to find his wife exactly where he expected. She was laying beside the fire, pondering things that were beyond him, only a bandage on her arm to remind him of what had happened.

He had aimed for the thestral beside her, but the bullet had ricocheted, and hit her in the arm. She would be fine though, if not able to trot for a few days.

“You’re back,” First Class said, continuing to stare into the fire.

“I am,” Wildcard said.

He trotted towards her, but she stuck up a hoof to stop him.

“I know it was you,” she said.

“I gathered as much, I know you’re not stupid. I just hope you can understand why. I couldn’t let him hurt you,” Wildcard returned.

“Wildcard, do you have any idea how much this hurts me? I have to decide what I value more-you or more my own morals. What you did was evil, and I should want you brought to justice for it. I don’t though, I really don’t. I still love you just the same, and that made me think. I’m not a good person, Wildcard,” She said, and stood up to face him.

“What?”

“What kind of a good person could look you in the eye after what you’ve done? What kind of a good person could still love you after the evil you inflicted on this city, and the innocent lives that will go to the gallows tomorrow for it? You did these evil actions for me, and I let you. You can’t be evil unless I am evil, or else I couldn’t love you. So, I had to face that. I am not a good person Wildcard, that is what you’ve made me realize.”

“First…”

“No, Wildcard, no argument. You’ve killed people, you’ve betrayed people, and you’ve corrupted the minds of dozens for your own purposes. You did this all for me though, and you wouldn’t have done it were I not so in love with you, and you with me. So I’ll live with it, Wildcard, I’ll bear a guilty conscious because that’s what it takes to love you. I’ll live with it. I am just a guilty of these crimes as you are, and the worst part?”

Wildcard was silent.

“I would have done them myself.”

First Class strode past him, and up the stairs to their room. Wildcard just stood there, trying to digest what had happened.

He had expected a lecture on what justice was, or tearful accusations. What he had just seen was anything but that, and the real effect of his crimes began to dawn on him. Trotsky be damned, but Wildcard hadn't considered what it would do to First Class. He hadn't just destroyed him, he had destroyed her.

Wildcard was horrified.

The next morning, a few hours before sunrise, two ponies were led to a wood platform in a small square inside the Canterlot Mountain. Luna stood across from the platform, surrounded by dozens of thestrals, all armed with ancient weaponry. Two led Trotsky and Velvet Glove- who had spent the last few hours protesting she had no idea what was happening- to the gallows.

Trotsky felt oddly calm, and didn’t even seem to hear Luna’s speech. Everything was a blur, almost as if time was moving at a different pace, as if it was slower. He felt numb, and was calm, even as the thestral tightened the noose around him. He extended a hoof to his side, and turned to Velvet Glove beside him. Luna finished her speech, and reality came back into focus.

For the first time in months, his head wasn’t filled with pain.

“Did I ever tell you I love you?” Trotsky asked.

“You did?” Velvet returned.

The last words they ever spoke.

Comments

[Bast]

That ending was really dark, this will also change the dynamic of wildcard's morals I think.

[TimidClef]

Damn.

So does the fact that I would have done the same thing, given the proper tools, make me evil? Damnit, Quers, making me all introspective!

[TimidClef]

Does the fact that, given the resources, I would have done something similar in his place, make me evil?

Trotsky's victory - even a minor one - could have weakened, or possibly even destroyed, Equestria. He had his motivations but ultimately it seems (to me) he would have simply become a new bourgeoisie.

But honestly, does that make me evil? Or am I overthinking this? :P

Damnit Quers, stop making me introspect!

[The Sexy Barbarian]

That doesn't make you evil, people will dislike what you the necessary evil you did but that's what doing the right thing is about, its not being a hero it's about being more than that. you will feel guilty but you may have prevented something worse and in the end isn't that bigger picture more important.

[Gladi Writes]

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I love that there's some sort of moral ambiguity here, so fun.

[The Sexy Barbarian]

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[Perteks]

Haha nice twist just like I hoped and i hoped for good surprise.

Not sure what is drama about did wildcard srsly though firstclass will be pure and one dimensional good? At war? Uhh
Its looked like he got enlightened that there is no good without evil not always on opposites sites, what more stupid is he practically did this alltime. For better good term would be best in this situation.
And firstclass acted like she counted for this to be solved peacefull? Uh naive?

Overall great you made it fell like real women talking/thinkin its just completly what the fuck? :) (wow what a sexist i am hahaha)

[Dragon of Shadows]

He told be if I succeeded

be needs changing to me