Suit Up
Banshee-44 stared at the group of inadequately equipped Guardians, as though studying each one carefully. "I have exactly what you guys need," the Exo said in his deep abrasive voice. He turned to look carefully at Rainbow Dash, who shifted her wings nervously in response. "Hunter. Light, agile, values speed and mobility above all else I'd presume. For you, a hand cannon wouldn't go amiss." He turned around and searched the shelves that held some rather small hand-sized weapons. He plucked one from the rack and set it down on the counter between him and the ponies. "Duke Mk. 10. Six rounds per magazine, high power, medium range. Weighs in at two-point-seven pounds when loaded."
He turned to Applejack next, inspecting the muscular earth pony with his cold and calculating eyes. "Titan. Doesn't mind much weight. Doesn't tire easily. For you I'd choose an auto rifle." He turned back to the rack of weapons behind him, scanning a different column filled with rifles. He stepped up onto a stool, and grabbed a white one from the top. He set it down on the counter next to the hand cannon. "Marshal-A. Twenty one rounds per magazine, decent rate of fire, relatively high power, medium range. Seven pounds when fully loaded."
"Warlock. Perfectionist, support-oriented," the weapons dealer said turning to Rarity. He pulled a weapon that was somewhat similar looking to what he'd picked for AJ. "You'd do well with a scout rifle. Jigoku SR1. Medium to long range, precision weapon. It doesn't put much down range quickly, but what it does hits hard. Fifteen rounds per magazine. Six-point-seven pounds when loaded."
"How does he know all of this?" Twilight quietly asked Amuro, who stood by, watching as each pony went through the same equipping process as he had when he was a new Guardian.
"Don't ask him how he knows. He's as war-torn as the City below." The Titan gestured towards the small place where a different metal had been welded onto the Exo's face in a cheap repair job. "That scar of his was made by a Fallen shrapnel launcher. It has caused him some memory loss, so he doesn't remember much aside from his name, his extensive knowledge of weaponry, and his uncanny ability to match people with a perfect weapon based solely on what he can observe about you."
"That's actually really sad," Twilight gasped.
The arms dealer in question turned to Pinkie next. "Hunter. Oddly familiar with heavy weaponry or artillery. I can't tell much about you for some reason, but as a Hunter, I think a hand cannon would be appropriate." He procured a weapon much like Rainbow's from beneath the counter. "Maverick Mk. 10. Six rounds per magazine. Very closely related to the Duke."
"Titan. Surprisingly strong. Support-oriented. Doesn't mind weight. Likes predictability. A pulse rifle for you." Banshee reached up one of the racks of weapons and set it down on the counter. "Psi Umbra I. Three-shot burst weapon. Twenty one rounds per magazine. Good fire rate, good range, and better in close quarters than a scout rifle, but still better in the open."
Finally, the Exo turned to face Twilight, looking her over with intense scrutiny. His gaze was not malicious in any way, but it was unsettling. He seemed to see through her, into her mind or even as far as her soul. She could not suppress a nervous shiver.
"Warlock. Leader in the making. Assertive. Logical. Likes patterns. Takes charge of great tasks and refuses to break under pressure. No doubt you are strong, but you have yet to truly test the heft of the spear you wield," he said as he turned to the weapons racks and pulled one down. "Auto rifle for you. Galahad-A. Twenty one rounds per magazine. It's useful in most every situation, and it'll serve you well."
"How much will all of this cost?" Twilight asked, unsure of how much money the group had available to spend. "We don't have much."
"Your account has five-thousand Glimmer available," the Exo replied, "Each weapon costs two-hundred Glimmer. You will have three-thousand eight-hundred Glimmer remaining for armor."
Twilight and the others picked up the weapons, and thanked the weapons smith, who'd already taken payment directly from their account. They turned and followed Amuro, who was now walking back towards the hallway that led to the hangar.
"With that much Glimmer, you'll be able to get some decent Level 4 armor," Amuro said. "Of course, you won't have enough left over for a new Titan mark for your Titans."
"What's a Titan mark? And why would we need them?" Fluttershy inquired.
Amuro pulled the white cloth attached to his hip slightly. Emblazoned on it was a yellow circle behind a purple rectangle that started at the base of the cloth and cut about halfway into the yellow circle. "This is a Titan mark. It's purely cosmetic, according to the vendors around here, but there's a reason we Titans like having them that we don't tell the civilians."
"And what might that be?" Applejack asked.
"We like having it readily available so we can wipe the blood off of our fists after we punch things," he chuckled. "If we don't, we might not throw aerodynamic punches."
"Why would you need to throw aerodynamic punches?" Twilight asked quizzically. "Why not just use your weapons?"
"Because at close quarters, a Titan's best weapon is their fist. And if we can't throw aerodynamic punches, we might accidentally punch an ally into a wall and kill them," the Titan answered.
"Like this bastard did to me," a cloaked figure hissed as they passed.
Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Wait what?"
"That's a different story for a different time. Time to get rid of your scrap armor." The group came to the booth next to the three small towers where the cloaked figure would exchange soccer-ball sized objects for armor and weapons.
"Ah! Amuro! Do you have any engrams for me to decode?" the hooded man greeted.
"Not today, Master Rahool. I'm helping the new Guardians suit up," he replied. "Ladies, this is Master Rahool, the chryptarch of the Tower."
"I see you already have weapons," Rahool observed, "but your armor looks improvised. I assume you are here to purchase some armor?"
"Yes, sir," Twilight answered.
"Well, I have plenty of armor sets available, with all of the Glimmer I've taken in over the week," he smiled. "Two of each, eh? One moment…" The chryptarch turned and went behind the counter of his small booth. It was then they noticed that the counter itself was a machine of some kind. He tapped a few places on a screen, and then returned to his original position.
"What exactly is Glimmer?" Rarity inquired.
The cryptarch turned to her and a smile curled up on his pale blue face. "I'm glad you asked, madam. Glimmer is, to put it simply, a programmable, transmutable matter. Input the right coding, and hook it up to an energy source, and you can turn it into virtually anything you might need. From ship parts to computers to weapons, and more. When it gets programmed, it will become an engram, which I can turn into whatever has been encoded in it for free. However, purchasing new engrams will cost you a little bit, though I'd like to be able to do that free of charge as well."
"So you're just converting our Glimmer into new armor," Twilight theorized.
"Most of it, yes. Some, I must keep as a sort of fee. Even I have to eat." The cryptarch turned to the machine once more, and picked up the new set of armor awaiting upon its surface. "This set is for a Hunter. Aaaand this is the set without wing accommodations."
Pinkie snapped to attention, "Huh? Oh, that'd be for me."
Set by set, the cryptarch created and handed over the new sets of armor. It was not the strongest armor, but it was better than the thin sheets of bronze that their Ghosts managed to scrounge up. Most of the plating on the new armor was made from composites that didn't conduct electricity or heat, which the Ghosts said would protect against the weaponry of the Fallen when they went out to find new ships. But that wasn't exactly on the minds of the ponies. They were far more worried about how quiet Pinkie had been as of late. It was far out of character for the bearer of the Element of Laughter, and their most bubbly and happy-go-lucky friend to be as eerily silent as she was. Under most circumstances, the mare would never shut up or stop bouncing. Rainbow Dash almost missed the constant talking.
As soon as they all donned their new armor, they bade the cryptarch farewell. As they departed, Amuro took the lead position of the group, leading them back down the hallway they first entered the courtyard of the Tower through. None of them bothered asking why they were going that way. All of them knew they'd need a new ship or six, as it was probably best that they didn't freak out any fellow Guardians by flying in on an enemy warship. At the end of the hall, they reached a point where they could see virtually all of the hangar bay, and to their surprise, they saw the ship they'd flown in on being painted by a number of frames and people alike. A red, tigerstripe-like pattern covered most of the ship, with the painters finishing up the last few untouched areas. Twilight raised an eyebrow at this. "I thought they'd be scrapping our ship for schematics information."
"The Vanguard will do that when you all have your own ships. For now, they're marking that one so that fellow Guardians don't freak out when you guys go to the LA Cosmodrome to find some," Amuro answered simply. He cracked his neck a little bit, and smirked at the new paint-job their ship was getting. "It's a well-made ship. I'll give the Cabal credit for that. But those damned things are tough to take down, and if we can find out how to do that, we can save countless Guardians."
"But wait… If we all fly in on that, then one of us will have to pilot that thing back, and we'll only have five ships," Rarity noted.
"And that's why I'm flying you guys in on it. I'll fly it back, and you guys will fly back on your new ships."
The group stopped on the quay their ship was resting next to, where a woman with pale skin and messy blonde hair was watching the paint crew working on the team's stolen ship. Her red sash was oil-stained and generally in bad shape, as was the rest of her gray jumpsuit. She looked over at the team of ponies, and remembered them to be the Guardians that flew it into the hangar. "You're the ones who brought this into my hangar, yes?"
"That would indeed be us," Rainbow's Ghost replied, materializing over her shoulder.
"My name's Amanda Holliday. I'm the Tower's top shipwright. The Vanguard sent me a notice to give your ship a high-visibility mark," the woman introduced herself. "I'm guessing they know you'll need this ship to fly to a cosmodrome to find some new ships."
"Excuse my curiosity, but we don't know what a 'cosmodrome' is," Rarity piped up.
"A cosmodrome is basically a planet-side spaceport. If it can fly to and from space, it lands and rests in a cosmodrome," the shipwright explained. "During the Golden Age, every major city had one. Yu woke up right next to the one in Moscow. But now Moscow's out of ships in the area, so now Guardians are checking out places like Beijing and LAX. We rely on Guardians to scout how many ships are left in which cosmodrome, so that we can send new Guardians to the right place to get one."
"But wouldn't it be easier to just build new ships? I mean, why send out fresh Guardians to fight whatever's out there for old ships? Why scavenge?" Rainbow Dash inquired critically.
"We don't have mines to dig up metals or other materials. And before you ask, it would take too much Glimmer to make a ship," answered the shipwright.
------
While waiting for their ship to be finished and approved for takeoff, the group was taken back through the main courtyard, towards a hall not unlike the one that led to the hangar. Other Guardians still looked at them oddly, and Fluttershy could feel disdain emanating from the Titans she saw. And with each Titan that passed, she could not help but try to make herself smaller and less noticeable. As in the other hallway, the new Guardians passed a frame with a broom, sweeping the floors. When they reached the end of the hallway, there was yet another courtyard. This one was far smaller than the central one, however. Directly to the left of the group of ponies, there was a small booth with red banners emblazoned with a white triangle with red streaks therein. A few Guardians were gathered around the little booth, some wearing the symbol on the banner on their own gear. To the right were a few scholarly-looking fellows in the midst of some sort of conversation over a rather hefty looking book. But those were minor details compared to the massive spherical structure directly ahead of them. Their guide stopped, and instructed, "Head inside, turn left. Talk to the guy in the white mask. I need to have a word with someone over there."
Twilight moved forth towards the tiny bridge that connected the spherical structure to the courtyard, her friends following her as they had when they became the Element Bearers. To them, this was nothing more than one more challenge for them as the Bearers. This was no different than facing Discord, or the Changelings. Of course, their bodies and the need for weapons was new, but the principle was the same. And like all of their other trials, the result would be the same: they would defeat the threat, and Friendship would have another victory to notch its belt for.
But as with the threat of King Sombra's return, dark thoughts were ever-present. Their home was dead. Celestia and Luna lay slain skeletons, recognizable only by their battle regalia. Canterlot was devoid of life, and Ponyville… If Canterlot and its mighty military forces bases fell that hard, Ponyville would bow to the Cabal the instant they came stomping down the roads like grass in storm winds. Cloudsdale could perhaps survive in theory, but its citizenry likely would not. Twilight knew no magic that could restore life to any creature, let alone an entire world.
"You are the brightest lights I have seen in quite some time," a calm voice interrupted Twilight's thoughts, making the entire group turn to face it. Its owner was a faceless figure who stood at the top of a small staircase with a balcony presumably at the top, wearing a long white robe with a black hood over his head and a white mask over his face. Everything about the figure seemed pristine and pure. His white robes were unstained in any manner, and looked as though they'd been freshly sewn, and the black hood carried no hind of fading color or sun-bleaching. "But there are the faintest of shadows in even you as well."
"Who are you?" Twilight asked almost defensively.
"Look out the window. Tell me what you see." He refused to answer.
Hesitantly, Twilight looked outwards. There was a massive sphere, pale and partially torn up, hovering above a city. Wide rings spanned outwards from the center of the city, taller than most of the buildings there. Off to the right were a range of mountains like sharp teeth, which would tear the sunlight at evening into fractal shapes. Next to the mountains was a wide river that gleamed with the light from the sun overhead.
"You can see the Traveler from everywhere in this valley," the figure continued, stepping down the stairs slowly. He kept his black-gloved hands clasped together not unlike a monk of some kind. "Do you see the Traveler?"
"It's the big ball in the sky, right?" Rainbow Dash blurted in response.
"To an extent, yes," the masked man replied. "We know not if that is the true shape of the Traveler, but that is the form it has taken." He paused at the bottom of the steps, turning his head as though to look at each one of them. "You are very far from home."
"Not like it matters much," Twilight near hissed. "Our world is dead. From what our Ghosts have told us, it was done by the Cabal."
"Yes, the Cabal. They are an interesting foe to face, but I don't think they are the true threat." The man held out a hand, and a blue light appeared above it, not unlike the map on the table in the Vanguard headquarters. At first, it was just a sphere of blue light, but it soon shaped itself into the form of a Ghost. "A Ghost has recently been rescued from the depths of the Cabal exclusion zone on Mars. All we could do was recover its memories. And there was one report that really struck a chord to the Vanguard and the other city factions. Listen."
A hologram of a spinning golden planet, in stasis, turning gently. You can see the storms moving over its face. But when the Commanders congregate below it, when they activate whatever controls are below, it changes. Fissures appear on its face. Is that their home? When the room empties I play with the controls, but it's older, native technology that I don't recognize at all.
I don't know what it means. It's not difficult to hide in these caverns when you're as small as I am, although the Psions tend to look around them when they pass me. There are infinitely many cracks and crannies. They are not a race that fears infiltration or espionage.
There is meaning to the structure and layout of their buildings. This is a warrior people, and they lay out their fortifications along ancient principles and time-tested strategies. I can't figure out the sense that lies behind it. I would need ten times the computing power for inference calculations. But I know it's there. I can intuit it. It's like an open hand, ready to squeeze into a fist. A threat. A gesture of power.
For all their might and strength, for all that they have dug into Mars and flung up battle walls with the bureaucratic grimness of conquerors, I suspect they are fleeing from something. That within their hard shells and thousand-folded shields is a sharp seed of terror. But of what? Does something follow them? Should we fear it too?
"So they're running from something?" Twilight questioned. "They didn't seem terribly worried on our home world."
"Perhaps because they were far enough away from that which chases them," the masked man suggested. "But I have a different hypothesis. What if t—"
Pinkie dared interject, "What would be a better plot twist than if the Cabal knew that the Ghosts would come revive us? If they knew that, then they came to kill us so the Ghosts could make us Guardians. And if that happened, then we would come here and grow strong enough to destroy whatever is chasing them."
Everyone turned to face their unusually quiet friend. Instantaneously they knew she was not the Pinkie they knew and loved. She was Pinkamena, the flat-haired one who lived within Pinkie's own head. Twilight almost visibly cringed upon seeing that Pinkamena had been revived with Pinkie. For the duration of their restored lives, she had hoped that her friend's split personality wouldn't have made it through the reforging the Ghosts had put them through. She had hoped that somehow, that darker side of her had been purged by the Light. And with this confirmation of Pinkamena's continued existence, came another grim implication: all of their darker sides, brought out by Discord's magic, had survived as well. Fluttershy's cruelty, Applejack's dishonesty, Rarity's blind greed, and Rainbow's disloyalty. But darker still, Twilight's own discordant self, which she knew naught of.
"Exactly, Guardian. I sense that the Cabal are not all Dark. There is a spark, if not more, of Light within each of them. They are not like the Vex or the Hive," the masked one said. "Perhaps, through their sin, they prayed upon the Traveler to help them. It is possible that the Traveler is answering that prayer through you."
"Why should we help the race that destroyed our home and killed everyone we ever knew?" Twilight asked venomously.
"There is hope for them and their salvation. And there may yet be hope for your home as well. I know not what I sense in the six of you, but there is something amplifying your Light," the man in white answered. "There may yet be a chance for us to gain a powerful ally in this war. If our hypothesis is correct, then having the Cabal as an ally could end this war and repel the Darkness. And if the Nine help, perhaps we can defeat the Darkness for good."
"So, how do we go about finding the enemy of the Cabal?" Fluttershy spoke up.
"This, even I know not. The Traveler may know, but it is still too weak to speak," the masked man replied. "For now, hone your skills, fight, better yourselves in body, mind, and spirit. You will need to be better than you are now to visit your home once more. Go, find your ships as you've planned."
The six turned to leave the spherical room. As Twilight passed through the threshold, the man spoke once more, "Oh, and Guardians, remember this: Guardians make their own fate."
As they departed, this last line stuck in each of their minds. There was something powerful about that one sentence, something liberating. It seemed to lift a mighty burden from the shoulders of the new Guardians, who were the last of their kind, as far as they could know at that time. Perhaps Discord or Spike had survived somehow. Perhaps other ponies or native sentient creatures from their home had outlasted the threat of extinction, as humanity had done with their city beneath the Traveler. There was hope in these thoughts. There was no true comfort, but there was hope, and that was enough for them, for the time being.
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Now I want to play the game with a mod for ponies now! That would be cool to see.
There is no way in **** I'm going to track down every little hidden dead cube just to find out more about 2014's hottest 7/10.
I'll just stick to reading your story. It will be easier.
My attitude towards this story, and my interest level, is starting to wane.
I'll put this in my Read Later folder.
I'm kinda disinterested now. Chapters are usually a change of scenery or action. This chapter could have been combined with the previous.
Twilight is OOC. Pinkamena is fanon, not canon. Their discorded selves are not their "evil sides". It was merely a change of perspective that caused them to act the opposite of their Element. It was all purged with Friendship, and they're friendship/connection with the Elements was most likely strengthened.
I also doubt the Elements of Harmony are too weak to face the Darkness. Celestia and Luna were are goddesses, and they faced foes more powerful than them. The Elements were even more powerful than that.
I've lost interest.
You added the theory of Oryx in? I fucking love you!
6240115 THE TAKEN KING COMES FOR US ALL!
The fourth wall breaks they're they're they're over nine thousand
6474694 they don't call him the taken King, fro nothing...
TBH, I fully expect discord to come back