Cryo-7

by Metal Pony Fan

No Rest for the Wicked Means Even Less for Those Who Chase Them

"Thank you, you may proceed."

Chief Cirrus nodded as she walked past the security checkpoint, blinking away the flash of the retinal scan. She had to dodge ponies in the hallways of police headquarters. All hooves on the ground, it seemed. There was more work than they could handle right now, in the wake of yesterday's events.

Riots were breaking out, and retaliatory crimes were occuring on both sides of the issue. It wasn't limited to ground-pounders versus pegasi either. Many earth ponies and unicorns were attacking each other over their stance on this.

Luckily, those who favored equality were in the majority.

But, there were still ponies being thrown out of their homes, or being attacked in the streets. Every available officer was out there trying to help. Every available dispatcher was taking calls, and trying to direct them. Every available internal affairs officer was tracking down HRT Three, and trying to determine who on the force might sympathize with them. And every available Heavy Response Team was upstairs, waiting for her, the new chief of police.

The promotion was sudden, and most likely, temporary. While she was resting at the hospital last night, the previous chief resigned. He was later arrested, at a spaceport no less, for organizing HRT Three's attack on her team, and disrupting official communications during the incident. Several others were also in custody for their involvement. It was decided that these trying times required a figurehead leader at the very least, and who better than the heavy response chief, who was in the thick of things, and came through the weather station battle unscathed?

If only the powers that be realized what they had done.

Chief Cirrus made her way to the third floor, to the office of the Heavy response teams, taking a relatively quiet stairwell instead of trying to make it through the crowd around the elevators. It didn't surprise her at all to hear shouting through the door. Tempers were high. Stress levels were high. The number of internal arrests were at an all time high. And as the police department's final resort, the Heavy Response teams would be under a microscope until the planet started to calm down again.

And even they would be short-hoofed right now. Quick Chop, having proven herself a quick thinker, and capable driver, was transferred permanently to HRT One, but that did little to pad their numbers. All members of HRT Three had either been arrested, or would be on sight. Most of team five had quit. Six had yet to report in, but as a covert unit that was partially expected. Teams Two and Four were fully staffed, and ready to go. And, her team, only Red was out of commission, office duty only, pending the investigation into his father's involvement in the attempted assassination, and the medical investigation into his transformation.

She walked into the room quietly. Most ponies didn't notice her. They were too busy yelling at each other. Some tried to stay out of it and tried to work, but the more vocal among them made up for their silence.

It was eye opening, seeing who among her peers supported pegasus equality, and who didn't. And also, which ones were indifferent, but wanted to weigh in on the method. Some saw it as an inevitability, and it may as well have happened how it did. Others thought it was heavy handed for the chairman to enact it the way he did, and that it should have been allowed to happen slowly. Others felt that one fell swoop was the only way it was ever going to happen, and that they were proven right. But, they were united in the fact that Tirassa needed them now, otherwise, they wouldn't be here.

The chief walked up to the main screen in the room. It was locked on the news, showing snippets of everything happening now. Every so often, among the pain and anger, there were brief moments of happiness being shown. A pegasus and a unicorn, quite obviously twins, standing side by side, smiling. A pegasus mare and and an earth pony stallion kissing while a group behind them cheered. And many, many ponies, of all types, just shaking hooves. They had accepted the way things would be, and were acknowledging that by simply acknowledging their fellow ponies.

The chief listened to the arguing around her. There was something she needed to tell them. Regardless of their views on this, if she was going to lead them, there was something they needed to know.

The rip of Velcro cut through the arguing voices, silencing them like a dagger. Everypony looked in her direction. The chief had undone the velcro holding her ballistic vest. For her entire career, she had shown up in uniform, and left in uniform. She never changed at work, dressed down for lunch, or took breaks. Always ready, always on the job. That was her reputation. The police force was her life. She was tough, by the books, and most of all, fair. She was a cop, through and through. Some ponies probably didn't realize the uniform could come off.

The chief took a deep breath. She knew, once she did this, there would be no turning back. But, she had to tell them. With everything that was going on, she couldn't keep lying.

She was still facing the screen when she started talking.

"Eighteen years ago, Wingless Dawn was founded on the premise that the only way for pegasi to gain equality with earth ponies was to become earth ponies themselves. They christened their group in blood, capturing a young pegasus, hanging them upside down by the hooves, and cutting their wings off with an oxy-fuel cutting torch. It took several minutes to take both wings off, helped along by a machete when they started running out of fuel.

They were caught trying to dump the pegasus in a public place. Police were tipped off by a member who couldn't stomach what he had witnessed. The founders were arrested, and the pegasus ended up in a nearby hospital. Each member received three year prison sentences for what they did, but were paroled within months. The pegasus was bounced from the first hospital to several others before ending up at one that would offer any actual treatment.

The pegasus didn't leave that hospital for a year. The amount of heat used caused deep tissue damage, and spinal problems. There were several infections, complications, and several of the treatments they received were experimental in nature, awaiting approval for pony testing. Bones were removed, muscles detached and reattached, and skin grafts grown, applied, rejected, and grown again.

And when it was over, they dumped him on the street.

With a shaky breath, the chief undid the Velcro on her other shoulder. "The final kindness shown to that pegasus, was by the doctor who wrote the official report. He falsified the document. He described a pegasus stallion who never existed, and scrubbed any pictures or descriptions of the real victim from the hospital records." She pulled the Velcro at her waist, and the entire vest fell away. "I was released as an earth pony who was orphaned in an aircar accident."

There was no fur on her back. And there was no sound behind her. All arguments had ceased, all discussion had died. They all stared at her, at smooth skin riddled with lines were it was sewn on piece by piece. You could see the outline of bones and muscle beneath, spine, ribs, and a secondary set of shoulders below the main shoulder blades.

Faced as she was, she couldn't see the reactions of her team, or the other heavy response teams. She was half expecting to be shot in the back by at least one of them. It really didn't matter to her at this point. On the screen in front of her was everything she had fought for.

She watched as Black Pot, leader of Wingless Dawn, the one personally responsible for her injuries, was loaded into a body bag amid the rubble of the mayor's mansion. Green Hoof was facing charges of treason for publicly attempting to assassinate the chairman. And, Pegasi were granted full equality under the law, effective immediately.

Chairman Steel Catch had vowed to do everything in his power to make the transition peaceful, but he refused to make it happen slow. Every law, every ordinance, that specified a pony's tribe was to be rewritten immediately. Every instance of pegasus, unicorn, or earth pony, was to be changed, leaving only the words, 'a pony.' Laws that were only in place to make life harder on pegasi were to be stricken from the books.

There was a mangled, frustrated scream behind her, and something flew past her head. It lodged in the screen, breaking the touchscreen glass and shorting out the picture. It was a stapler, wrapped in red aura. She looked back in time to see Red toss the desk he grabbed it off of. She wasn't sure it was his.

He pointed at her, each heavy breath growling in his chest with his rage. "No! You put that back on! You put that back on, and never take it off!" He stomped towards her, and grabbed the vest off the floor, shoving it at her. "No, you don't get to do this, not now. Not after everything that happened, and everypony who died. You're an earth pony, you got that? You were an earth pony when we followed your orders, you were an earth pony when you saved the chairman, and you sure as hell better be an earth pony when the press conference happens. Everypony got that?!"

The dispatch pony put her hooves up. "I don't see no wings, what you even talkin' 'bout."

"Yeah," added the captain of team two, "I've known the chief for decades, never seen so much as a feather on her."
The words of support made the chief smile, but she knew Red wasn't mad at her. She was his training officer when he joined up, and he was her first choice for a lieutenant when she moved to the Heavy Response Teams. She had seen him deal with tough situations. She knew how he handled anger, and this wasn't it. This was how he handled pain. This was how he reacted when he coudn't save somepony, or when a friend gave their life in the line of duty.
She took her vest from him, and grabbed his hoof before he could put it down. "Red..."
"My blaster jammed," he said quietly, for only the chief to hear. "I still had my blaster while I was on the hoverbike, filming. When my father took cover, but kept sending ponies out to fight, I pointed it at him, I engaged the targeting computer, and I pulled the trigger. It jammed. The internal optics were damaged, but I didn't know that then. I pulled the trigger. I was ready to kill my own father, and you pegasi aren't worth that to me."
"Then, what is?"
"Tirassa, and it's out there burning because of what happened. Because of what we did."
"What was the alternative?" The chief looked back at the screen, as it valiantly played distorted images of the world outside. "Fires can be put out. You were the one that told everypony what Green Hoof was doing, do you think we'd be better off if he succeeded?"
"No," Red shook his head, "hell, no. He was in bed with terrorists and slavers. He sold innocent ponies to help his cause, and he didn't care that most of them were probably unicorns. I'm not sure what he really cares about in the end." He grabbed the stapler in his magic and carefully pulled it out of the screen. To his surprise, the screen started healing where his aura touched it. It healed with an ugly bulge of distorted glass, but it healed. "I just want to get back on the streets and help where I can."
"Even if you can't be on the streets, you can still help. Miss Kettle and the Chairman have wings after their transformations, the diehard groundpounders aren't going to listen to them. You didn't grow wings. As a unicorn, and as the mayor's son, you may still get through to them. Red, your voice is going to be very important through all of this."

"A unicorn that can't keep his magic from destroying everything he touches?" He dropped the stapler, now crushed beyond repair. "Look at that, just from holding it. It's a good thing I'm not on the streets right now, or I might do that to a pony."

A black hoof touched his shoulder. Miss Kettle offered a smile when he looked up. "I might be able to help with that." She addressed Chief Cirrus next. "I've got to say, I should have realized sooner. Even ignoring the name, your coloring is a dead giveaway, white hooves and sky blue?"

"Uh-huh." The chief glanced towards the door, checking if anypony else might have seen that. There was no telling what sort of reaction that news would get if it became widespread information. "And, what brings you here, Miss Kettle? I trust the chairman is safely at the hospital?"

"He is. Well, he was when I left. We're coordinating what we can of the military in the city, and having them report either here for assignment, or to guard vulnerable locations throughout the city. Other cities are doing the same, but it seems there's a little less pushback to this elsewhere on the planet."

"That's good to hear." Chief Cirrus nodded slowly. "Then, if we can stabilize things here, it'll be over."

Miss Kettle nodded back. "We can hope, but you guys are missing a heavy response team, right?"

"Team six," Red answered, "and some of team five. Or, at least, I haven't seen them today."

"Two missing, great. That does explain things a little better then." The black mare shuffled her wings as she sighed. "A little less than hour ago, a group of ponies dressed in Heavy Response Team gear firebombed the museum. The chairman had private security teams posted, and things were contained quickly, with the aid of another group of ponies, also dressed in Heavy Response Team Gear. The first group had blacked out any insignias on their uniforms, but the second group didn't seem to have insignias on their uniforms in the first place. So, we don't know if they are affiliated, we don't know if the second group is on our side, and we don't know if the first group is planning to strike again."

"Oh, hell." The chief pointed to one of the remaining members of team five. "Have you seen Cam today? Did he say anything about yesterday? Leave any messages?" Upon seeing the stallion shake his head negative, she looked back at Miss Kettle. "Team Six gear doesn't have identifying markings, and half the time they wear civilian clothing, if anything. They were probably the second group. Nightshade is a good pony. I doubt she would be opposed to this, and even if she was, I know she wouldn't resort to arson or vandalism. Team five was the largest of our teams, and we've got at least ten ponies unaccounted for. The team lead, Cam, I don't know him as well, but I know he dislikes pegasi."

"That's an understatement, chief," Homebrew brought over a pad. "When we served on team two together, I had to stop him from beating the tar out of a restrained pegasus more than once."

"Crap." She gestured to the pad. "What do you have?"

"Don't know, it's not mine." He held it out. "It was in my desk though."

Miss Kettle took the the pad. "What do you want to bet it's some self-important monologue or manifesto? Five chips? Anypony?"

The chief, Red Hoof, and Homebrew all shook their heads. That was a losing bet, and they all knew it.

"Fine," Miss Kettle switched it on, and immediately, a video started playing.

A stallion, most likely Cam, dressed in HRT Gear with the emblems blacked out, and a balaclava over his face stood front and center. The wall behind him was featureless save a few marks and cracks. "Greetings, Homebrew, or, knowing you like I do, I should say, hello, Chief Cirrus. By the time you see this, the Great War Museum will have been burnt to the ground, its heretical conspiracy theories and fabricated evidence a burnt out husk, mere memories in the minds of those who would turn this planet over to those who oppressed it for centuries."

"That's the second floor changing room," Red groaned. "He filmed this here in the station."

"And the museum's fine," Miss Kettle added, "bit singed, but nothing some paint won't fix."

"We will not stand idly by while-"

"All right," Miss Kettle switched the video off, "we're not listening to all of this garbage." She started fiddling with the pad, finding the app for transcribing notes from recorded audio, and plugging the video, aptly titled, 'A Patriot's Manifesto,' into it. "And the condensed version is..." She scrolled through the text that started appearing on screen. "Pegasi are evil, blah, blah, enslave the planet again, blah blah, attacks will continue, join us, or fight us, we will be at the industrial warehouses in the lake district." She handed the pad back to Homebrew. "They're planning to attack the cloud slums, big surprise. And are waiting below them, either for help and sympathizers, or a final showdown with the rest of the police force. And, they've got some military deserters on their side now, claiming fifty heavily armed and heavily trained individuals. Sounds perfect."

"Perfect for what?" The chief asked suspiciously.

Miss Kettle smiled, a sly grin, as she stretched out a wing. It wrapped around Red Hoof's shoulder,and she leaned towards him. "This guy's magic training."

Red Looked down in alarm as light enveloped them both. "What?!"

"What?" Miss Kettle asked, coy and smug as she pulled her wing back. The light had faded, leaving them surrounded by concrete, broken glass, and rust. The remains of a massive warehouse, unused for a decade, possibly more. "You need to learn to control your magic, right? I also need to test mine. So this works for both of us. First lesson, shields."

"Intruders!" Up on a walkway, a pony in camo aimed a weapon down at the two newcomers.

Miss Kettle threw an energy bubble around her and Red, bright neon green, shimmering under the thudding impacts of kinetic projectiles, while drowning out the crackling of the former soldier's mini railgun. The military-grade weapon would have shredded anything short of spaceship armor, and was tearing massive gouges in the concrete around them. "Really simple," she walked in front of Red, strutting like a cat, "you put up a barrier between you and something else. A bubble, a wall, a literal ethereal iron shield, whatever you envision. This can be one of the easiest spells to learn. It's instinctive, just imagine throwing your hooves up to protect yourself, but it's magic instead." The gunfire stopped, and she dropped the shield, walking away from Red. "Oh, look, he's got a grenade."

"What?!" Red looked up, and sure enough, seeing the failure of his other weapon, the soldier was prepping a grenade, pulling the pin. "Ok, yes, that's a grenade, put the shield back up!"

With a smirk, and a swish of her tail, Miss Kettle kept walking away. "Nope, it's your turn."

---

As HRT One and Four approached the abandoned warehouse district, the first thing they saw was the smoke. Deep crimson smoke, sparkling like glitter as it settled over the area, fading fast.

Both teams were loaded into antique Armored Personnel Carriers, as any airtrucks that team five didn't steal from the motor yard, they had sabotaged. Their only air support was two ponies, Homebrew, and Beansprout of team two, on their personal hoverbikes. But, it was starting to look like there was no need for air support, or any support for that matter.

"Beansprout to team lead, do you copy?"

Chief Cirrus hit the radio clipped to her vest. "I copy, Beansprout, go ahead."

"Ma'am, I have eyes on the target. I can see several ponies in the center of the warehouse district, estimating twenty to thirty. But... Ma'am, they seem to be unconscious."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, ma'am. They're all lying down, arranged in a grid, next to a building that looks to be upside-down."

The chief exchanged glances with Quick Chop, seated beside her and driving the APC. "Repeat that?"

"There's a building, flipped upside down. I can see another a bit farther back that seems to be split in two, like it was grabbed and pulled apart."

"Red hoof, or Miss Kettle?" Quick Chop asked.

"Could be either one," the chief responded, "there's no telling how powerful their magic is now." After a moment, she spoke into her radio again. "Beansprout, scan the skyline, any sign of pegasi? A black mare with green mane and tail."

"Not as of yet. Wait, correction, I see a pony matching that description. She just hopped off a low level cloud, flying your way now. Should I intercept?"

"Negative, let her through. Keep an eye out for any additional movement." Chief Cirrus pointed to a security gate, busted beyond repair, but built into a reinforced concrete wall. A perfect entry point into the complex, as well as a protected spot to set up a command post. "Park us there. Miss Kettle should be able to brief us on the situation."

They parked, and Chief Cirrus climbed out of the navigator's seat as the back of the APC opened, spilling out the armored Tac-team it carried. They took up defensive formations as they waited for Miss Kettle, and the second troop carrier pulled up alongside them.

The chief exited the carrier just as Miss Kettle swooped low overhead, looping around for a final approach, and slowing to a hover before stumbling into the landing.

"You got good at that quickly," the chief observed with a small pang of jealousy.

"The flying's the easy part," she boasted, "it's the landing that..." Miss Kettle suddenly looked up, cringing. "Sorry, this must be... um..."

The chief shook her head, managing a smile. "No, don't apologize. Enjoy it, every last moment of wind and freedom. I've spent my life working towards the day ponies can fly without worry. And that smile you had, coming out of that turn, it was worth the wait, and all the pain, to know I'm going to see that a lot more from now on."

The black alicorn smiled back. "All right, enough sappiness, let's get back to work." She took a deep breath, and shouted, "Red!"

There was a flash, and suddenly, Red Hoof was standing beside her, a dark pink soap bubble floating beside him. Inside that bubble, a pony lie sleeping, snoring away, clad in full heavy response gear.

The chief stared for a moment. The same pony that, twenty minutes ago, couldn't hold a stapler without crushing it, was able to teleport and carry another pony in such a delicate spell. It was amazing, and just as amazing, was the stallion's appearance. "Red, you look like you got caught on fire. What happened?"

The stallion glanced down at his coat. He was covered in dirt and soot, scorching and concrete dust. He reeked of stagnant water from emergency sprinklers. And, he had stepped in a miraculously full paint bucket at some point, caution yellow, because, of course it would be caution yellow at an abandoned warehouse. Meanwhile, Miss Kettle was untouched, in fact, she had taken the time to preen her feathers at one point, while he was running from a jeep with a machine gun mounted on top. "Yeah, it's been interesting. But, we got Cam." He lowered the bubble to the ground. "He's fast asleep, and so are the rest of them. I was tying them up before I jumped out here. Some of them are in the buildings, but I'm pretty sure I got all of them."

"I see." The chief chuckled. "This is going to be one interesting report, considering you're supposed to be on desk duty. But, at least you've gotten your magic under control."

Miss Kettle's eyes suddenly lit up. "About that," the exclaimed happily, "he-"

"No." Red interrupted sternly.

"What?" The black alicorn laughed. "Are you embarrassed?"

Red sighed in annoyance. "No, I just don't feel it's necessary to-"

Miss Kettle quickly looked over at the chief. "His magic is-"

Another red bubble appeared, wrapping around the overpowered secretary, and muffling all sound from her. Red sighed again. "Now that that's handled... Oh, come on!"

Inside the bubble, Miss Kettle was holding the rest of her words in her hoof, materialized out of magic. "His magic is emotion based," read the glowing letters she held up, "he fights with the power of his feelings."

The chief couldn't help but laugh, more at Red's sour expression than at the revelation. "Don't be embarrassed, Red. I can't imagine a more fitting power for you. Now, let's get these guys packed up and go home, we've got plenty more work to do."

Comments

[Ytak]

With a smirk, and a swish of her tail, Miss Kettle kept walking away. "Nope, it's your turn."

I see she's a sink or swim sort of person. XD

[Timuri]

The first section of this was just one long painful realization.

I had originally thought that Cirrus was likely a earth pony from a pegasus family. Then at the start of this chapter I'm starting to think she may have just been hiding her wings...only to start hoping that the pegasus was someone she knew. But nope...Cirrus has all of my respect. Living through an experience like that and not becoming really cynical or angry is very worthy of respect.

That said, I imagine that seeing Black Pot bagged on that news broadcast probably gave her a good measure of satisfaction, if only as she can no longer hurt people anymore.