Eleven

by lord_steak

Assault on The Castle of Friendship

Shadow-Walker and Fallow Fields stood in surprise as they watched a video of a luxury airship going up in flames. The other staff in the situation room looked on as well, commenting or chuckling indistinctly. Shadow-Walker turned to his boss and said, “Same old Sweetie Drops. I’m surprised she left Ms. Heartstrings in there.”

“Eyes on the mission, as always,” Fallow Fields said as he shook his head. With a satisfied smile, he turned to the closest workstation. “Redsmith, contact the combat team. Inform them to meet Agent Sweetie Drops at her house, and prepare to engage the monster.”

“Comrade Fields, why are you still here?” a mare’s voice tersely asked from somewhere in the back.

Everypony stood up and looked to the lift doors. President Stall Lynn stepped off the lift, still in her regalia. Everypony else saluted her. She walked up to the director, who fidgeted at her approach. He said, “Ma’am, I have not received the parcel.”

“Then it is well you have not left, for I brought it here myself,” she said, stifling a cheeky grin.

“Ah. Thank you, ma’am,” said Mr. Fields with measurable relief. “I’m...now confused why you asked me why I hadn’t left.”

“Simply put, Comrade Fields, I’ve watched as you’ve been chomping at the bit over this nearly as much as I have. I was concerned you wanted it so badly that you were about to dash out the door without thinking,” said Stall Lynn as she slowly approached the central desk.

Fallow Fields breathed, “I confess your concerns were not unfounded.”

“If only all of our number had your enthusiasm,” President Lynn said with a smile. She hoisted an iron lockbox lined with intricate runes glowing pink, pale yellow, and peachy orange.

Fallow Fields took the box in his telekinetic aura the colour of a very healthy lawn, but almost dropped it. With a grunt, he said, “Thank you, Madam President.”

“Remember the incantation, Comrade Fields. Comrade Bon-Bon will need help, if what I’m seeing is correct; it appears our quartered friend overstepped his bounds again,” Stall Lynn said sadly, with a touch of empathetic heartache. “Ms. Heartstrings had Comrade Bon-Bon by...well, her heartstrings. She will be heartbroken, or worse.”

“Comrade ‘Bon-Bon,’ not ‘Comrade Drops,’ ma’am?” Fallow Fields asked.

“She has not thought of herself as ‘Sweetie Drops’ in years, nor does she introduce herself by that name,” corrected the president with a disapproving eyebrow.

“I see.”

“Barring unforeseen difficulty, prepare a landing pad for my arrival once the monster is down,” said Stall Lynn. She grimaced, then added, “Just in case the unforeseen does happen, leave your red key with Comrade Walker.”

The director took a deep breath as he levitated a card key with a broad red stripe across it. “Of course. By your leave, ma’am.”

Fallow Fields deeply bowed, took the lockbox on his back, and exited the situation room. Shadow-Walker shoved the card key into his pocket. Some in the room started to talk quietly to each other.

Stall Lynn stepped up to the central desk, and with authority announced, “Comrades, I will oversee this last part of the operation, but Comrade Walker will continue his excellence in command this night.”

The situation room thundered, “Yes ma’am!”

“Standby for Relocation Order Beta,” the president ordered. She sat down in the central chair as several ponies at different workstations looked at each other worried. She turned to Shadow-Walker and said, “Comrade Walker, as you were.”

---

Behind Bon-Bon in the distance was an explosion, and a fireball curling over the treetops. Her face was steely and her eyes behind her issued shades, calm and collected, as she walked slowly down the road. Within her mind a storm raged, lost in a void of swirling prismatic mist, with neither feel nor substance, except the vicious, overbearing dry heat.

“NO!!!! NOOOOOOO!!!! LYYRRRRAAAAA!!!!!!!” Bon-Bon shrieked as the tears came so thick they clouded her vision. She convulsed as she wailed, sobs breaking up her scream. “LYRA-A-A-A-A!!!!!!!!”

“Do you get it now? Defy me, and you will have pain. You defied me; now you have pain. She is dead because of you. She died in a fire, and it’s your fault, and yours alone. You will live with the pain that you killed the mare you loved. You set the fire with your watch’s attachment, you left her in there, and now the airship is no more,” the baritone scolded on all sides. “Who’s to blame?”

Bon-Bon continued in howling cries. She roared in rage many times as the tears just kept coming. The voice asked again, “Who’s to blame?”

“...fuck you...,” whimpered Bon-Bon as the torrent continued out of her eyes.

The voice boomed, “Who’s to blame, Bon-Bon?”

She pulled her voice together to shout, “You are! You took over my body without permission and used to do something I never would!”

“And you were warned what would happen if you disobeyed. Did you listen? No. Did you obey? No. Did my warning come to pass as a result? Yes. Ergo, the fault is yours. I will have your obedience, or you’ll have more pain,” growled the baritone.

Bon-Bon cried, “How much more can you take from me!?”

“Shall we find out?”

She sobbed, “Oh Lyra...I’m so sorry...please forgive me....”

The voice snarled, “Answer me! What’s gonna be?”

Shaking her head, Bon-Bon blubbered, “Okay...you win...I’ll do it...I’ll help...I’ll work with the Elevens....”

“No, you’ll work with me, and soon, when their goals and mine part ways, you’ll help me, not them. Capiche?” said the voice angrily and threateningly.

“Huh?” Bon-Bon blurted, blinking through the tears. “If you’re not part of them...who or what are you?”

Whatever the crystal’s sentience was laughed maliciously, and said, “As I said, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head over that. Just do what I tell you, and everything will be swell. At least, for you.”

---

Bon-Bon looked at the park bench on her and Lyra’s front porch. Ears drooping, she pushed open the front door and closed it behind her. A coppery glow from a unicorn shone, and the room was illuminated. Bon-Bon surveyed the scene. A maroon unicorn stallion sat in chair as he held the coppery aura. He wore a black cattleman-style cowboy, and gave her no more than the indication of a nod. A gray draught earth pony mare with a curly black mane and tail stood by the kitchen door. Beside her was a dappled khaki-tan pegasus stallion.

“The moon rides high tonight,” said a bass voice behind her.

With a flat expression, Bon-Bon recited, “Because we cut it a path through the darkness.”

She turned and saw a draught unicorn stallion with a fiery orange coat and pale blue mane and gray eyes. His cutie mark was an explosion. Bon-Bon shook her head at him with a small smile. He said, “Sweetie Drops, my old compadre, you think you’ve got one more in you?”

“One last mission,” Bon-Bon said. “I don’t go by ‘Sweetie Drops’ anymore, Fireballer. Call me Bon-Bon now.”

He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Bon-Bon, huh? I’ll try to remember that.”

“Who’s the crew? You’re the only one I recognize,” Bon-Bon said, sizing up the other three.

Fireballer pointed to the only other mare, who curtsied. Her cutie mark was a tilled field. “We have Deep Plough. Don’t make any crass jokes about her name or cutie mark; she might break your neck for it. She’s a close-combat specialist and excels at downing aerial opponents.”

“Good to know. We will have Wonderbolts to deal with,” Bon-Bon said, masking her guilt.

Fireballer and the others nodded. He said, “Undoubtedly. Do you know how many?”

Bon-Bon thought for a moment, then answered, “There are five here on clandestine assignment that I know of.”

“Names?”

“Thundercracker, Stormbringer, Cloud Billows, Gale, and Rainbow Dash.”

“Gotcha,” said Fireballer. He then pointed to the pegasus, whose cutie mark was a black cloud with twin pale blue lightning bolts coming out its bottom. The pegasus nodded as Fireballer said, “Here’s Blitzsturm. He was born in Pferdland, but grew up in Cloudsdale. Blitzsturm is about the best eyes in the sky we can hope for who can still do well in a scrap.”

Bon-Bon nodded slowly, then said, “Rainbow Dash will be trouble for him. She’s as fast as they come.”

“Trust me, I know how much she can book it when she wants to. I was there for her first Sonic Rainboom at flight camp,” Blitzsturm said. His voice had no hint of an accent.

Bon-Bon raised both eyebrows as she half-disbelieving said, “Really.”

“Yes ma’am. I was one of the camp counselors, and oh goddess did we all get chewed out for allowing that race to happen,” he said with a nostalgic smile.

“That I don’t doubt,” Bon-Bon said. “And the other unicorn?”

“High Noon,” answered Fireballer with a gesture to the other unicorn. High Noon tipped his hat silently. His cutie mark was a lasso around a six-gun. “He’s a sharpshooter from Dodge Junction. Very accurate and very quick. Rarely speaks, though.”

“A sharpshooter? Excellent,” Bon-Bon said with a nod. She gave them another lookover. “Is everypony aware of what we’re doing here, and what we’re up against?”

A series of nods answered her. Deep Plough’s voice was a high, filly-like clear soprano. “We’ve been waiting for The Master Stroke for a long while, and are thrilled we were picked to carry it out. We’re pretty sure we’re ready to take down that monster.”

Bon-Bon firmly said, “She’s not alone. Princess Twilight will doubtlessly he accompanied by Spike, a baby dragon, and her personal pupil, Starlight Glimmer. Starlight’s spells have much more punch behind them than the average unicorn.”

“I think we can handle an extra unicorn,” quipped Fireballer, rolling his eyes.

“That’s not all,” Bon-Bon continued. “Any of the other Element bearers could show up at any time without warning. All of them are forces to be reckoned with.”

Snorting, Blitzsturm said, “Um, seriously? You have met Fluttershy, right?”

“Yes; it’s why I can tell you plainly that once she’s angry, she’s a bigger danger than Applejack, Rainbow Dash, or Rarity,” said Bon-Bon in irritation. Blitzsturm jerked his head back with an eyebrow going up. High Noon still had not moved a muscle since tipping his hat. Bon-Bon continued, “She is also close friends with Discord. Chaos magic is about the last thing I want to at the receiving end of tonight. Pinkie Pie is simply unpredictable, and is known to break laws of physics.”

“You don’t say,” Fireballer said dismissively, frowning.

Bon-Bon ignored him. “There’s also that Twilight can contact the other princesses and her brother Shining Armour. Any or all of them could teleport here at a moment’s notice. Remember the Wonderbolts I mentioned as well. It’ll start with only three, but that can very quickly turn into over a dozen. Odds already are that at least one of us will be dead before she’s brought down. If she gets that much help, none of us will see tomorrow.”

“Charming,” muttered Deep Plough, nickering and shaking her head.

Fireballer said, “So keep it short and sweet.”

“Exactly. We have to keep quiet for as long as possible,” Bon-Bon said, looking through them again. “I can try to talk to Twilight and show her abdicating would be best, but no promises.”

Blitzsturm scoffed, “About all the good that’ll do give us a few extra moments to take up better positions.”

“That may be enough,” Fireballer said. “The element of surprise is paramount with monsters, especially this.”

“It is. Wait for sundown. Then we move,” Bon-Bon said firmly, before starting toward the kitchen.

---

The dark of the new moon hung over the land when they stepped out of Bon-Bon’s house. Above, their galaxy’s next spiral arm provided most of the illumination. Bon-Bon led them around the edges of town, away from the streetlamps, picking their way towards The Castle of Friendship. The long way around took an extra twenty minutes, but went without incident. They approached the lower balcony, which was not as well illuminated as the frontal or upper balconies. Bon-Bon and Deep Plough both stepped forward, and almost in unison threw grappling hooks up. Both caught on the railing with a dull clunk apiece. The two mares pulled themselves up the ropes, with both unicorns just behind. Blitzsturm flitted upwards, looking around in all directions as the other four ascended. He hovered a moment staring upward, then turned back to the climbers. Deep Plough reached the lower balcony first, and began pulling up the rope. Bon-Bon was just behind her. As High Noon and Fireballer finished their climb, Blitzsturm softly landed. Bon-Bon and Deep Plough quietly but quickly looped their ropes, tying their hooks in. They started toward the door.

Blitzsturm wormed into the middle of the group, and sharply whispered, “We’ve been noticed.”

“Go figure,” grumbled Bon-Bon.

“Then there’ll be Wonderbolts in the halls. Quickly now!” Fireballer urged.

Deep Plough silently closed the door behind them, and assumed rear guard. The hallway was silent and dark. A single, dim light source lay an unknown distance around a bend some ways ahead. They hurried on. Bon-Bon approached the bend. She peered around the corner. There was another hallway, with light coming out of a door most of the way down and past a stairway.

“Ooooph!” Blitzstrum gasped as a loud thud sounded.

Bon-Bon whipped her head around to see Blitzsturm under a purple draught pegasus stallion, wearing a Wonderbolts wingsuit. As she reached for a sleeping gas pellet, coppery pulses hit the Wonderbolt in rapid succession. She looked and saw High Noon firing off a series of small magic bolts. Soon the pulses passed completely through the Wonderbolt, who fell down unmoving. A pool of blood spread from his body.

“Who was that?” asked Fireballer while High Noon lowered his hat back over his horn.

Bon-Bon blinked. Black mist leaked out of her eyes for a few moments. As that stopped, she looked over at the rest of the squadron and said, “That was Stormbringer.”

“Hey, you okay?” Deep Plough asked Blitzsturm, sounding like a worried lover as she wrapped her hooves around him. Bon-Bon sniffled.

Blitzsturm nuzzled Deep Plough as he said, “Yeah, I’m good. Might feel it in the morning, but that’s it.”

They continued. Bon-Bon nudged Fireballer, whispering, “Are you sure it was wise to bring a couple to a high-risk fight?”

“No, but it wasn’t as unwise as it’d be to keep those two apart because of a mission,” he whispered back.

Bon-Bon waved for the others to stop as they approached the door. Fireballer motioned to the rest of the squad, and they spread out toward other doors. Twilight’s lecture voice echoed indistinctly out the door. Bon-Bon looked over at Fireballer, who nodded at her, propped against the wall.

Bon-Bon peeked her head in the door. She lightly knocked, and quietly said, “Twilight?”

Twilight Sparkle halted mid-sentence and turned. Derpy Hooves and Starlight Glimmer were here, along with a few mobile blackboards marked heavily with complex mathematics and a few drawn diagrams and pictures of clouds over cross-sections of hills, cliffs, and mountains. Starlight appeared stumped. Twilight and Ms. Hooves looked at Bon-Bon, then each other, then back at Bon-Bon. Derpy started pushing the blackboard away as Starlight came to, and levitated a number of blackboards up to the room’s balcony. Bon-Bon’s ears flicked for a second.

Sounded like somepony’s whispering up there.

Looking around for a moment, she saw plenty of other wheeled chalkboards up there, but nopony on the balconies. Bon-Bon slowly entered the room as Twilight cautiously said, “Bon-Bon? Are you okay?”

“I...,” she trailed off. Another burst of the black mist left her eyes. Starlight gasped. Out of the corner of her eye, Bon-Bon thought she saw Muffins gesturing, but saw nothing of the like when she turned her head towards the gray pegasus. Bon-Bon winced another flow of the black mist left her eyes. Starlight backed up a step. As the mist picked up, Bon-Bon whimpered, “No-o-o. I’m not. Help me-e-e....”

“Of course. Keep fighting it. I’ll do what I can,” said Twilight sadly, rubbing Bon-Bon on the withers.

Who was...?

For a moment Bon-Bon could’ve sworn she saw somepony on the balcony, somepony white and pink. She blinked as she looked around up there. Not a soul on the balconies. There...weren’t as many blackboards now as there were a moment ago. Bon-Bon dug at her eyes and shook her head.

“Can I ask you a question?” Bon-Bon asked with a pained blink.

Twilight nodded. The tip of her horn rapidly flashed in a near-white. Bon-Bon said, “Have...you thought about abdicating?”

Twilight gave Bon-Bon a hard, disapproving look for many seconds before the tip of her horn blinked like that again. She said, “Bon-Bon, I think you know I didn’t ask for this, nor did I want it. But Celestia had other plans.”

Bon-Bon jerked her head back in surprise, shooting Twilight the most incredulous look her facial muscles would allow. She shook her head, then glanced at the balcony again.

Focus. Listen.

What?

Do you hear them? Focus.

Bon-Bon felt her own audio acuity sharpen. There were four mares whispering somewhere, voices she did not recognize.

“...they really did get her. I saw the black mist....”

“...come on...wake up....”

“...I’m working as quickly as I can. That stuff’s strong....”

“...this spell isn’t healing a large enough area at a go...she needs hospital care once this is done....”

Bon-Bon looked up again. All the blackboards were gone. She asked, “Wait, she did that? I thought that was your destiny.”

So, you have other targets upstairs once you’re done down here.

What are you on about?

After you kill Twilight, track down the ones upstairs and kill them. No witnesses.

No! I’m not killing another of my friends!

Yes, you are.

Twilight sighed, and said, “At first I thought so too, but the more I think about it, it was Princess Celestia’s doing.”

Remember how this went last time? You have support; rely on them for now. You’ll take care of them later.

No!! I can’t do this!

Fine; I’ll do it, and figure out what penalty you deserve later. Maybe your dear little sister, hmm?

You can’t be serious!!!

Oh, but I am. Watch me.

“Twi...!” Bon-Bon began, but crumpled, curling up fetal as she screamed in pain with the mist flooding the room. Starlight slowly wheeled around with wide eyes and rapid, shallow breaths. The mist gushed forth, but eventually slowed, then stopped. Bon-Bon pushed herself to a sitting position, hanging her head, and breathing hard, deep, and fast.

Twilight backed off a step. She warily asked, “Bon-Bon...?”

Bon-Bon looked up as her breathing came under control, though her face was still twitching. She harshly whispered, “Twilight...run....”

Her scleras turned green again. Twilight jumped back, barely in time to evade the knife. With her other forehoof, Bon-Bon threw a pellet at Starlight’s feet, who collapsed into chemical slumber just as she was powering up her horn.

The other four charged into the room through different doors. A coppery haze filled the room. High Noon took cover behind a pillar as the other three went straight at Twilight. Fireballer’s horn took up a blood red aura, then fired a pulse. Twilight’s horn charged. As the pulse approached, she suddenly looked worried, then a magenta spherical shield surrounded her. The red pulse struck and burst into a fiery explosion. Twilight’s shield appeared undamaged. Fireballer smirked. “Teleportation interdiction field. You’re not getting away, and you will answer for the oppression of the populace!”

“Look, I don’t know what in the hoof you’re talking about!” Twilight shouted as she leapt to her right before Deep Plough could push through her shield. “The crown picked me, not the other way around! I just want what’s best for my subjects!”

Blitzsturm began pushing through the shield from above, shouting, “Then step down! Go back to your studies, and let the people govern the people!”

“Get out!” a raspy alto shouted. Blitzsturm looked up just in time for a prismatic blur to strike him in the face. Pulling up and into a hover was Rainbow Dash, also in a Wonderbolts wingsuit. She snapped, “Nopony’s interested in letting terrorists rule the country!”

Dash quickly found a number of unfriendly spell rays coming her direction. She swooped down, closing on Fireballer, still evading his bursting magic attacks. Twilight took to the air and out of Deep Plough’s reach as she shouted, “If democracy is, in fact, what the ponies want, I won’t stand in the way! But what you’re doing isn’t democracy; it’s regicide! How do you expect to convince everypony, if you’re trying to kill rather than talk like civilized ponies!?”

“We have tried talking! And what did we get? Arrested for heresy!” Deep Plough shouted back as she circled below. “How are we supposed to talk if we get thrown in jail for even suggesting a different way to be?!”

Rainbow Dash’s eyes widened in recognition of whom she wrestled midair. “Blitzsturm?! You’re one of them!? What the hell, dude!? You were the coolest one at flight camp, and now you’re a terrorist!”

“Terrorist, or liberator?” fired back the older pegasus. “It’s a matter of perspective, and history is written by the victors. Don’t be on the wrong side, Rainbow Dash!”

“I won’t! I will never abandon my dearest friend in her time of need!” Dash shouted, unable to get the upper hoof.

A scream sounded in the halls, but not that close. Twilight blocked a hefty volley headed for Rainbow Dash, from Fireballer, High Noon, and Bon-Bon’s watch attachments. Dash turned, allowing Blitzsturm to push past, and used his inertia to whip around and throw him against a pillar. He slammed hard into it, and began to peel away in a stunned daze. Dash zipped to him, grabbed him around the waist, and turned toward the floor, leading with Blitzsturm’s head. Deep Plough started running toward them, screaming, “No!!”

Dash took less than two seconds to reach the floor fifty metres below, slamming Blitzsturm into the dense crystal head first with a stomach-churning snap. He lay there motionless as Dash took off toward High Noon. Blitzsturm’s eyes were unfocused. Some blood slowly leaked out of his mouth. Deep Plough sprinted, choking up and desperately pleading, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, please no...no...goddess please....”

Deep Plough stroked the side of Blitzsturm’s face, but he did not react. His neck was twisted in a direction not normally possible. She started to sob, cradling his lifeless head. A boyish soprano screamed, “Twilight!! Stormbringer, he’s dead! He’s dead!! He’s in...what...what is...?”

Every awake pony except Deep Plough turned to see Spike stop dead in his tracks, agape, his eyes of two different degrees of open, twitching all over in no discernable pattern. Several coppery spell bolts struck him, bouncing harmlessly off his scales and into the floor and wall. A magenta ray struck High Noon and knocked him into the close door jam. He got up and put his hat back on, ducking behind the same pillar as before while Twilight evaded a red blast that erupted into a six-metre burst of flames. Growling, Deep Plough turned toward the ceiling, where Rainbow Dash eluded High Noon’s blasts. The draught earth pony stood up and shrieked, “YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!!”

“Oh? You wanna go!?” Dash sneered.

Tears streaked Deep Plough’s face as she gritted her teeth and ran into the middle of the room, her glare focused on the Wonderbolt. Snarling, she gave Dash an obscene gesture with her left forehoof and mouth. Rainbow’s eyes narrowed with a snort. She tore downward, right at the tear-stained mare. As Dash moved to tackle-punch Deep Plough, the earth pony sidestepped her with a punch of her own, right into Dash’s throat. The Wonderbolt tumbled across the floor as Deep Plough charged after her. Twilight shouted in alarm, “Dash!!”

Fireballer stepped between Twilight and Deep Plough, putting up a barrier that negated the princess’s spell rays. Deep Plough was atop Rainbow Dash, slamming her huge draught hooves into Dash’s face and body over, and over, and over, still streaming tears. Rainbow yelped with each hit, becoming more frantic and hurt in tone as the beating continued mercilessly. Bones broke under her furious assault. Twilight screamed out for Dash, and broke Fireballer’s barrier, only to have another cast by High Noon. Deep Plough threw Dash against a pillar, who was sobbing in physical pain. She could not sit up.

“Now...,” began Deep Plough as she gasped out of breath. “You get what you’ve goddamn-well earned.”

The draught mare reared up and pushed back her fetlocks, revealing a watch similar to Bon-Bon’s. A liquid sprayed from it, all over Dash. She screamed and writhed on the floor as an acidic hissing sound emanated from there. Rainbow feebly held up a wing in front of her face as the spray continued.

“No! Dash!!” screamed Spike, taking off full speed toward her. He lowered his shoulder and slipped past High Noon’s barrier while parts of Dash’s wing began to dissolve and slough off. Spike leapt in-between Rainbow Dash and Deep Plough, covering his eyes with his arms.

Twilight hollered, “Spike!!”

The acid sprayed over the young dragon, pooled, and fell to the ground in drops. His scales gleamed from the wet droplets in the torchlight. Deep Plough’s watch ran out of acid. As the spray halted, Spike looked over his arms, into Deep Plough’s eyes, glowering. He turned back to Dash. She was still gasping in broken, agonized moans while the hissing continued at a slower rate. Her left wing had lost nearly all its feathers, most of which lay on the floor in varying states of dissolution. Dash’s coat and skin had deformed, looking in many places like a partially melted candle. She could not fully close her left eye.

Spike shook the droplets off him as he ran to Dash and dragged her out of the puddle, choking up as he pleaded, “You’re gonna be okay, Dash...you’re gonna make it...you have to make it....”

“No, she doesn’t, and no, she won’t,” snapped Deep Plough as she stomped toward the little dragon. She fiddled around with her watch some.

The colour drained from Spike’s face as Deep Plough raised her foreleg again, pointing it at him. He rattled a gasp. He took a deep breath as he let go of Dash, closed his eyes, and screamed, “No!! Leave her AALLLOOOOOOOONNNE!!!”

As he screamed the long O sound of “alone,” a stream of fire left his mouth. It started green, but quickly turned to a terribly bright yellow-white cone, missing Starlight Glimmer by about a twenty degree arc. The others still awake in the room had to cover their eyes from the sheer brightness. The flames engulfed Deep Plough. She screamed in agony, flailing and running away, but not for long. She soon dropped, still on fire, and moved no more.

Spike opened his eyes to see Twilight, Bon-Bon, Fireballer, and High Noon all staring at him in shock as he stopped yelling. His eyes turned toward his left. A shrieking gasp left him at the sight. There lay the mostly-charred remains of a large pony, the overwhelming majority of the entrails and abdominal region incinerated and gone, completely unrecognisable, with flames still dancing along its side, back, and neck. Spike convulsed as his eyes went wide. His breathing broke, shaking heavily. The stinking odor of burnt flesh wafted up his nose. He wringed his hands as shuffled toward the corpse some twelve metres away. High Noon shot at Spike with a number of harder pulses, but these, too, merely reflected off his scales. He did not acknowledge the shots either. A red pulse hit at his feet, enveloping him in a small fireball. But he did not notice, nor change his pace. His scales were not even dirtied. Spike continued his shaking amble, still unblinking and wringing his hands, until he stopped beside the burnt remains of Deep Plough. He fretfully stammered, “I...I just...did I really...oh...oh no...oh my God...I...I...oh God, why did I....”

A thwack, and Spike’s eyes rolled back into his head as he toppled over onto what was left of Deep Plough. Behind him was Bon-Bon, lowering her right rear leg from an extended kick. The back of Spike’s head had a small scuff mark right at the base of his skull. Bon-Bon’s eyes were still green where they should have been white. She looked over at Fireballer and High Noon, and irritably said, “Clearly you two need to do some reading on dragon scales and how tough they are.”

“Spike!!” shrieked Twilight. She flew down and landed, running toward him.

Fireballer stepped between the princess and Spike. The two took to wrestling. They shoved, pushed, tried to tackle, tried to bite, with spell rays striking at point-blank range. Bon-Bon and High Noon stepped back, circling slowly around the two. Fireballer shoved Twilight to the ground belly-first with her head under his chest, and tried to stand on her back. The princess started to push up against him, then suddenly thrust backwards with a hard wing stroke. As she came loose, she flapped forward and lifted her neck, driving her horn through his throat. Fireballer staggered and gurgled, his eyes as if he were staring at something a kilometre away. Twilight growled, “Get out of my way!”

A magenta burst came from her horn, blowing apart Fireballer’s neck. His head tumbled a little ways before unceremonious bouncing and rolling on the ground, leaving a scarlet trail. Twilight turned toward High Noon. A plop sounded at her feet, and she fell as the gas pellet hissed. Bon-Bon’s forelimb was still out from the throw. A soft clip-clop over another’s hoofsteps echoed somewhere in the hall as Bon-Bon slowly walked up to the unconscious princess. The green in her eye seemed to glow as the black mist returned in force. Her pace was slow. Bon-Bon drew the knife and held it in her right foreleg as she stood over Princess Twilight. The mist began to pile on the floor, making Twilight sink into the black mist as it deepened. Bon-Bon slowly reared up, bringing the knife over her head. Stepping forward, High Noon waved his forehooves parallel to the ground in disapproval. Another hiss sounded. Bon-Bon looked down at the pellet at her feet...one of a different colour and moving the black mist aside. Then she saw a grass green telekinetic aura rip the gas mask out of his nostrils, and she fell to the floor, dropping the knife harmlessly.

The mist dissipated as Fallow Fields walked up behind her, still with the rune-covered lockbox on his back, and the lawn-coloured glow at his horn and around the mask. He let it drop on the floor. With an approving smirk he said, “Seventy-nine for seventy-nine. Sweetie Drops pulled through again.”

“‘Tain’t no success, when three of yer fahve dah,” said High Noon in his gravelly low tenor, stepping out from behind his favoured pillar.

Fallow Fields nodded sadly as he set the box down on the floor. The two dragged the unconscious Twilight and Bon-Bon away from the messiness, laying them side by side, and on their backs. Somberly Mr. Fields said, “I understand all too well how you’re feeling and what you’re thinking. But losing three now, to save a thousands later, maybe more...it’s better in the long run.”

“He was meanin’ tuh ask her ‘bout gettin’ hitched. Was waitin’ for the next full moon,” High Noon retorted with a sad sigh.

Fallow Fields shook his head slowly. He murmured, “Damn. I was looking forward to their wedding.”

High Noon glared at him imperiously. Mr. Fields’ horn glowed, and the box popped open. There was a diagram on the inside of the lid, including a depiction of two ponies laying on their backs. There was another lid of sorts there, with the runes across it the upper lid lacked. High Noon slowly started toward the box. He stopped, turned, and said, “Wait jes’ a goddamn minute! You ain’t tore up none, yet yer’ sayin’ you was wantin’ tuh be there! Which izzit!?”

Fallow Fields snorted. His horn glowed brighter as he closed his eyes and deliberately muttered a series of inaudible syllables. The bright runes faded to dark etchings on the iron box, and the inner lid opened. He looked over at High Noon and said, “Forgive me for seeming callous. I’ve lost...I don’t know how many during these operations; I couldn’t keep count. Many good ponies over the last four years, gone, some without meaning, some in valiant efforts, and every point in-between. I’ve become mostly numb to it.”

The two peered into the box as a soft pop echoed from somewhere distant. After pulling away a cotton sheet, there sat three black crystals, not at all unlike the one in Bon-Bon’s belly. High Noon blew a long whistle. “We really fixin’ tuh do this? We ain’t dreamin’?”

“It’s time,” said Fallow Fields laden with anticipation. “Coulja’ make a slightly curved incision across her lower belly, not too long? We need the last part.”

“Uh huh,” High Noon said. He picked up the knife as his magic left an arched glow just above Bon-Bon’s pelvic region. Carefully he began cutting at even pace. Wicking away the blood with a spell, High Noon lengthened the incision gently as Fallow Fields horn powered up to a double-layered aura, slowly raising the black crystals. High Noon completed the cut, and cautiously peeled back the skin and muscle. He began rummaging in her entrails.

“Don’t touch it!” the director barked. “Do you want the trouble of having to retrieve it out of you too?”

The maroon unicorn withdrew his hoof with a grimace. “Fahne.”

High Noon braced Bon-Bon’s legs as Fallow Fields grunted and gritted his teeth. Something moved below the surface of her stomach. It pushed up, and slipped toward the incision. The black crystal emerged, contained in a green aura. All the blood and such on the crystal slipped off into a single stream that left neither straggling droplets nor hint their presence. Fallow Fields ordered, “Patch up her belly. After her years of service, it’s the least we could do. Especially after this.”

High Noon released Bon-Bon’s hindlimbs and stood up. His coppery spell ray eased Bon-Bon’s evenly cut diaphragm and skin back into healed tissue without much difficulty. After wiping away the last of the blood, he looked up as the four black crystals shifted close together, all parallel to each other. Fallow Fields took a deep breath, then began muttering words of some unknown language. Three of the crystals turned, each by sixty degrees, and none along the same axis. Sparks flew off Fallow Field’s horn as he raised his forelimbs, rearing up, coming to nearly a shout of these seemingly random syllables. One by one, the turned crystals edged toward the one that did not. In a flash the first two combined into one, though the unturned seemed to grow in size. The same happened for the next two, but the final flash was far brighter and lingering longer as the last crystal made contact. As the illumination returned to regular lighting, there was by one larger crystal, one that exhibited three angles of twinning, carried a slight glow, and was no longer black. This crystal was bright green.

Fallow Fields exhaled hard, then turned toward High Noon and said, “Breathe easy, my friend. It’s about to be a dark, dark night, but the morning after will be all the brighter. We will all be free, and very soon.”

High Noon blinked at that crystal a few times. “Well, shut mah mouth ‘n paint me red.”

“What’s the matter?” asked Fallow Fields, as he levitated the large green crystal towards Twilight’s unconscious body.

High Noon’s ears perked up a moment, then he said, “As violent as she was actin’, I reckoned y’all gave Sweetie Drops here the Or’ng Shahd. But Ah see this here’s th’ Green.”

“Are you nuts??” Fallow Fields squawked. “Didn’t you see the report on how the Orange Shard’s test went?”

“Uh huh. But Ah thought y’all was mighty worried ‘bout what Twahlaht could do,” answered High Noon. His ears perked up again. “What did they do wid’ th’ Or’ng Shahd, anyway?”

The Green Shard slowly lowered towards Twilight’s belly, towards her navel, which gently rose and fell steadily in her subconscious breathing. Sweat beads rolled down Fallow Fields’ forehead as he grunted, “They moved it to the Fillydelphia Stronghouse.”

High Noon’s eyes narrowed. He growled, “Git ready. Somepony’s a-comin’.”

The two scanned the various doorways leading into this gallery room. A second set of hoofsteps rang out, along with some excited but muffled whispers. All became quiet. Not even the chirping of crickets echoed anywhere. The room was still and silent, not a hint of motion except those knocked-out ponies’ and baby dragon’s breaths. They continued looking among the doors.

A wide magenta ray ripped through a closed door, right at Fallow Fields. He barely raised a barrier before it hit. Hooves sliding against the crystalline floor, he ended up ten metres from where he was before the beam halted. Mr. Fields’ suit was partially unraveled from the ray. The Green Shard was not even three centimetres above Twilight’s belly. It continued to sink, but a magenta kite shield coalesced in the way which the shard could not penetrate. The lower register of a high tenor threateningly boomed, “Leave my little sister alone!!”

In the door stepped an alabaster unicorn stallion, with dark blue mane, tail, and eyes, and wearing a full suit of purple barding. His lip curled into a snarl as his eyes oozed with rage.

As Fallow Fields opened his mouth to speak, the pulsating ring of another attack spell sounded through the room, as did a yelp from High Noon. He dropped to his knees, clutching his right forelimb just above the fetlock. He was bleeding, from where a small hole bore through his leg. Out of the shadows stepped another pony, another unicorn. The muzzle’s girth showed it had to be a mare. She was scorched, and had lost most of her coat and mane. She had been magically healed in circular patches, but not fully. The coarse hairs of her tail were also all singed off. But what remained of her coat was an unforgettable minty green, and her golden eyes were full of hate. Surrounding her horn was a two-layer aura the same colour as her eyes, throwing sparks.

“Get the fuck away from my marefriend....”

Author's Note:

Seventh chapter, done! And it's time for a little two-on-two unicorn battle. Hey, were it my little sis in trouble, I'd run to her aid. And don't get me started on the hells that await the person who tries to harm my wife.

The question remains, then, what are these shards, and why do the Elevens want to use them so badly? The answer will come, in time.

Thanks for reading.

Comments

[Crazy the Clone]

Well...That didn't go well. Several people are mentally scared, and others dead. Dash is going to need immediate medical attention and Discord's help.

[lord_steak]

7183537

Yeah...that was a bad time for all. And that isn't finished....