The Ghost Of Me

by Bluecatcinema

Turn Down For What

"You know, I'm kinda getting tired of all these cliffhangery statements at the end of each chapter." Caboose frowned. "I know they're supposed to increase the tension, but still..."

"So, I trust the rest of Armory's recovery period was more-or-less uneventful?" Fletcher asked, deflecting Caboose's odd remark.

"As uneventful as it could be." Black shrugged. "We still had our missions, Forefather problems to deal, and all that... but yeah, all things considered, it was pretty quiet."

"More like boring." Armory snorted. "Being stuck in that bed was not the highlight of my life. I just wanted things to finally get back to normal. But it wasn't quite the 'normal' I'd been expecting..."

Many years ago...

The day had finally come. Armory was getting out of the medical unit. The last of the bandages had come off, and he hesitantly set foot on the floor.

"How does it feel, pal?" Black smiled. "Getting out of that bed at last?"

"Pretty good." Armory smiled. As he took a step, he felt a stiffness in his left rear leg. "...Mostly. Guess Triage was right about there being permanent damage."

"Nah, you're probably just a little stiff from lying around all that time." Black shrugged. "Come on, let's go to your workshop. I know you've been dying to get to work on some new gadget of yours..."

"Like you wouldn't believe." Armory chuckled.

As they headed down the corriders of the headquarters, Armory walked with a definite limp.

"Damn leg." Armory cringed. "Must've taken the brunt of it when I fell on that ambulance..."

"It'll pass." Black assured him.

"Yeah, maybe..." Armory frowned, aware that his friend was lying to make him feel better.

Together, they reached Armory's workshop.

"Oh, I've missed this place." Armory beamed. "All my tools and gadgets, just as I've left them."

"Like any of us would mess with your stuff." Black smirked. "I wouldn't even know what to do with half of it."

"There's my wrench." Armory marched over to the other side of the room, where the wrench was lying on the floor. "Must've dropped it before I took part in all that craziness."

Armory knelt down to pick up the wrench, but his leg gave out under the weight, and he collapsed.

"Gah!" Armory groaned.

"Whoa!" Black rushed over to help him up. "I got ya, pal."

"Thanks." Armory sighed, as he glanced at his now throbbing leg. "Guess this bum leg is gonna take some getting used to."

"Nah, it'll pass." Black smiled.

"Black, I appreciate the assurance, but I know full well that this limp is gonna be with me for pretty much the rest of my life." Armory frowned. "Triage told me a couple of weeks back."

"Oh." Black said flatly. "Sorry, Armory. I was just trying to pick up your spirits."

"It's okay, Black." Armory smiled. "I still say this beats the alternative."

"Yeah, I can't disagree with that." Black shrugged. "Besides, in this line of work, you're bound to get some debilitating wounds. Just look at me." He pointed out his eypatch. "You wouldn't believe how hard it was to adjust to just having one eye. My depth perception was destroyed, so I have to rely on instinct instead of what I see."

"Yeah, but you're awesome." Armory declared. "You can probably do anything if you put your mind to it."

"Probably." Black sniggered.

"And hey, at least now, we get to be disability bros." Armory smirked, holding up his hoof. "Right?"

"Right." Black grinned, bumping his hoof against Armory's. "Disability bros."

After that, things returned to normal around the Taskforce headquarters. Black continued on his missions, while Armory went back to tinkering with his gadgets. It seems like things were on their way to turning back to normal...

Until a few weeks later, when Armory was called into Elite's office.

"You wanted to talk to me, sir?" He asked.

"That's right." Elite nodded. "I wanted to know how well you were holding. How's that leg of yours doing?"

"Same as it's been since I got out of that bed." Armory frowned. "It's got me limping around all the time. Really cuts into my speed. Used to be able to get around my workshop twice as fast..."

"I see." Elite frowned. "Triage said there would be permanent after-effects from your injuries."

"But I'm still part of this team though, right?" Armory asked.

"Of course." Elite nodded. "But there is one small matter I wish to discuss with you."

"What's that, sir?" Armory asked.

"Well, it concerns your prospects for future field missions." Elite said awkwardly.

"Say no more, sir." Armory grinned. "I'm raring to go. Triage had given me a clean bill of health and I am psyched to get back out there with my comrades. Heck, me and Black-"

"That's not what I had in mind." Elite frowned. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

"W-what are you getting at, sir?" Armory asked timidly, not liking the serious look on Elite's face.

"I'm sorry, Armory." Elite declared solemnly. "But given your current... physical state, I have no choice but to bench you from field missions from now on."

"But sir..." Armory murmured. "It's just a limp... I can still handle myself. I mean, I have 'Homer', my gadgets, and-"

"I don't doubt that, not at all." Elite assured him. "But you said so yourself, your speed has suffered greatly because of your limp. In our line of work, that's barely a step beyond being a sitting duck. You would be unable to outrun mostly anypony or thing we go up against, and have great difficulty traversing rough terrain."

"Well... I can still bring up the rear!" Armory tried to reason. "I know how to use a crossbow, and I can have their back! With a bit of help from the guys-"

"Armory, please..." Elite urged. "I know this is hard... but your injuries... no matter how you look at it, it's a big liability in the field. I'm truly sorry, but I can't in good conscience send you out in the field with the others..."

"Oh... I see..." Armory bowed his head.

"I really wish I didn't have to do this, Armory." Elite sighed. "But as director, I have to make tough choices, and make them based on logic, reason, and strategy. I can't cut you any slack just because we're friends."

"No, I get it." Armory forced a weak smile. "It's for my own good."

"Besides, your best contributions to the cause have always come from your technological sklls." Elite smiled. "The amount of times your gadgets and weapons have ensured victory for us... Your injury hasn't affected that skill in the least, now has it?"

"Well, no..." Armory rubbed his head. "I have been working on a few things in the lab. Maybe now, with all this free time, I'll finally be able to finish some of them."

"There you have it, then!" Elite smirked. "You can still do great work for us without going into the field."

"Thank you, sir." Armory smiled. "In fact, I'll get right back to work."

"That's the spirit." Elite nodded. "I won't stop you then. You are dismissed."

With that, Armory left Elite's office, giving him that same smile... however, as soon as the door to the office shut, his smile faded and he let out a harrowing sigh.

Begrudingly, he made his way into the mess hall, where Black was finishing some oat stew. He got himself a sandwich, and sat beside Black.

"What's up, Arm?" Black asked.

"Just got back from Elite's office." Armory admitted. "He asked how I was holding up."

"Well, that's Elite for you." Black smirked. "So, did he tell you when you will be going back out into the field?"

"I won't." Armory sighed. "Elite told me that I can't go on field missions anymore."

"...Wait, what?" Black grimaced. "Why?!"

"Why you think? It's my bum leg." Armory grunted, glancing at his bad leg. "Elite said that it makes me a liability."

"Well, that's bullcrap!" Black glared. "Elite can't just bench you because you limp!" He made to stand up. "Let me talk to him, maybe I can-"

"No, Black, it's not worth it." Armory shook his head. "I know Elite. Once he's made up his mind, he doesn't change it. Besides, he brought up some good points... the last thing I want is to slow all of you down because I can't keep up."

"Armory..." Black frowned, as he sat back down. "...If it's any consolation, I really enjoyed having you as a partner. And I don't say that about a lot of ponies. The field won't be the same without you."

"That's the worst part." Armory groaned. "Field missions were things I looked forward to. It's one thing to have you guys test out my stuff, but when I do it, I get that sense of satisfaction that my inventions actually work. But now... all I'll be able to test anything on is those dummies... it's just not the same."

"It ain't all bad, y'know." Black told him. "At least you'll be able to spend more time on your gadgets. You can churn out the awesome stuff even faster."

"Well, there's that..." Armory murmured. "But that's not the point. When I first joined, everyday was an adventure. I got to see places, meet new people, do death-defying stuff... I just don't want to spend all my time in a musty old workshop, and become some sort of neckbeard. I just don't want to become useless."

"Hey, you are not useless, Armory." Black assured him. "You made the perfect grappling hook, created a carriage that can move without horses and can fly, dismantle a giant mech suit, and you killed a psychopathic clown who was supposed to be 'nigh impossible' to kill! The day you become useless is the day I say 'Hail Hydra'. You are one of the most brilliant stallions I've ever met, and if anypony says otherwise, they'll have to answer to me... and to the backside of my hoof."

"...Thanks, Black." Armory grinned, genuinely touched by his statement. "You sure know how to cheer a guy up."

"It's one of my many talents." Black boasted, "What say we drop by the rec room after lunch, okay?"

"Sure." Armory nodded. "Bet I can whip ya at pool."

"Not likely." Black snorted. "And don't think that bum leg'll make me go easy on ya."

"You'd better not." Armory smirked. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."

The two of them headed to the rec room, where Shadow and Ballista were already playing pool. Titan was curled on the rug, snoring up a storm.

"Guess pool's a popular game around here." Black noted.

"Hey, guys." Shadow smiled. "How are things?"

"Well, Armory 's a little bummed at being taken off field duty." Black declared.

"I had a feeling that would happen." Shadow mused. "I heard Elite mention it once or twice."

"Yeah, I am really sorry about that, mate." Ballista frowned, "But it's the way things gotta be. The battlefield's no place for a crippled soldier."

"Well, I'm over it right now..." Armory shrugged, "In fact, Black and me were actually hoping to play some pool."

"No problem." Shadow shrugged. "We're almost done anyway."

"I'm almost done trouncing ya, ya mean." Ballista smirked.

"Like they say, it ain't over 'til it's over." Shadow scowled.

"Oh, yeah?" Ballista smirked. He struck the cue ball, potting the remainder of the balls on the table at the same time. "Well, now it's over."

"Yeah, yeah." Shadow sighed. "You win... again."

"Regular stallion of a thousand talents, aren't you?" Black asked Ballista. "Not too shabby."

"You ain't seen nothing yet, mate." Ballista grinned. "You should see me play darts sometime."

"Yeah, maybe." Black shrugged. "But for now, me and Armory have the pool."

"What say you play the winner?" Armory offered.

"I say 'bring it'." Ballista smirked.

And Black and Armory played. Despite Black's best efforts, Armory managed to score a win.

"You may rule on the battlefield, but pool isn't your speed." Armory teased.

"Well, considering I've only got one eye, I'd say I played pretty well." Black snorted.

"Now ya face a real opponent, mate." Ballista stepped forward.

"No, just you." Armory smirked.

"Cheeky." Ballista snorted. "We'll see how long that lasts..."

It was a struggle of epic proportions, as the two winners took to the pool table and shoot at balls. Ballista put up a good fight, but Armory was just better enough to edge out a win.

"Oh, yeah!" Armory whooped. "Look at me: King of the cues!"

"Well, damn. Good game, mate." Ballista shook his hoof.

"You weren't so bad yourself." Armory smiled.

"Hey Shadow, you wanna play, loser to loser?" Black asked.

"Sure, why not?" Shadow nodded.

"You can take him, Black." Armory grinned.

"Come on, Shadow!" Ballista cheered.

Unbeknownst to them, Elite, having deicded to take a walk around the base, happened upon the group playing pool. He felt a smile as he saw how his ragtag team was having such a good time together. It was moments like these that made him forget the problems they may face in the future, if only for a little while.

However, it soon became 'back to business' for the Taskforce, as everypony continued about their work. Black, Ballista, Shadow, and Titan went on their own assigned missions, checking on leads that could lead them to another of the Forefathers' plots. Armory, as Elite ordered, remain at the base, making use of his newly found 'time' to work even more on all of his inventions, taking breaks in between to eat and rest.

All the while, Micro himself was very busy. Following Sweet Tooth's demise, Black came forth with the information he had learned from the clown's mouth about the 'Black Sheep', a group within the Forefathers that Pike was leading. Seeing it as a way to potenitally pinpoint members, Micro searched through several criminal databases, searching for ciminal psychotic and dangerous enough to warrant membership, as well as possible black ram tattoos similar to Sweet Tooth's that they could possess.

"This is most disconcerting." He told Black one afternoon, taking a break from his search. "For the Forefathers to take in lunatic murderers and ne'er do wells like Sweet Tooth to be their personal 'hit squad'... I didn't they were capable of sinking so low."

"I'm not surprised." Black snorted. "Remember Reinadh? Those guys'll do anything to get what they want."

"How fortunate that Sweet Tooth was arrogant enough to share that information with you." Micro smiled.

"Yeah, scum like that always get chatty whenever they think they're gonna win." Black smirked. "And they always think they're gonna win. One of their biggest weaknesses, actually."

"One which works greatly to our advantage." Micro smirked. "I've been compiling a list of probable Black Sheep members. Once we figure out if they are what we think they are, we can get a fix on all their locations. You could take them down one by one, robbing the Forefathers of a valuable asset."

"As long as they're not all as psychotic as Sweet Tooth, I'm game." Black smirked.

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out you'd enjoy a good fight." Micro grinned. "And lucky for you, it looks like you'll get plenty in the future..."

"Oh, yeah..." Black grinned. "Can't wait..."

Fortunately, Black had other things to occupy his mind. He had more missions concerning the Forefathers to contend with over the following months. On one trip, he was sent back to Las Pegasus, where his mission was to deal with some of Sam and DeRose's former thugs, who were attempting to pick up the pieces of their criminal enterprise. Since those thugs possessed some information on Sam and DeRose, Elite felt it necessary to have Black capture at least one, so they could interrogate him.

Black found them hiding in a warehouse in the back end of the city.

'Why is it always warehouses?' Black wondered. 'These guys have no imagination...'

Black threw one of Armory's extra-strength smoke bombs through the window, blinding the thugs.

'Thanks, pal.' He thought, as he activated his visor's infrared lenses. 'I really missed these gadgets of yours.'

"What's going on?!" One of the thugs stumbled around blindly.

"Is it the cops?!" Another asked. "Because this doesn't feel like tear gas!"

Black burst into the warehouse.

"You'll be in tears when I'm through with you!" He yelled.

"Who the buck is that?!" A thug asked.

"Get him!" The lead thug yelled.

"I don't know where he is!" Another thug frowned.

"But I know where you are!" Black charged into the thugs, taking them down one by one.

"I know you're here somewhere!" The last thug fired a crossbow around. "I'll get you!"

"Wrong!" Black dodged the wild fire and punched the thug in the face, knocking him out.

After leaving most of the thugs for the police to find, Black brought the leader back with him for interrogation, sedating him and tying and gagging him to boot. As he made his way back to headquarters, Black realised he was close to Prairieville.

Despite what has happened to Armory and his fears of the Forefathers finding out about Belle and Shade, the urge to see them again had returned with great veracity. And in spite of all his doubts and fears, he couldn't stay away any longer.

'Time to check in on the fam, methinks.' He thought, before remembering his passenger. 'But what about this guy? I know...'

Black hid the thug behind some shady rocks, aware that the sedative would keep him unconscious.

"Don't go anywhere." He grinned, flicking the unconscious pony's forehead for good measure.

Black slipped into town, and headed for Belle's house. To his delight, both Belle and Shade were right outside. Shade had grown considerably since the last time Black had seen him. He was looking quite lean, his mane had grown a little messy.

"Look, mama, look!" Shade squeaked, as he flapped his little wings as hard as he could.

As Belle and Black watched, Shade lifted himself up until he was level with the bedroom window, before drifting back down.

"Oh, that's my big boy!" Belle smiled, catching him.

'Kid's quite a flyer.' Black grinned. 'With those wings, he could be a Wonderbolt. Imagine that...'

"Tired now." Shade yawned.

"Not too tired for dinner, I hope?" Belle smiled. "I'm making your favorite: squash pie!"

"Yum!" Shade cheered. "Me like pie!"

"I know you do." Belle chuckled. "And because you were such a brave boy today, you get an extra slice!"

"Yay!" Shade smiled. "Love you, mama!" He hugged Belle.

"I love you too, sweetheart." Belle beamed, returning the hug.

'Ah, Belle.' Black smiled, as his family back inside. 'You've got this motherhood thing refined to an art form. And Shade, what a little trooper you are...'

Black departed Prairieville, picked up the thug, and returned to the headquarters.

"Great work, Black." Elite smiled. "I'll have Ballista 'chat' with this fellow, see what he knows."

"I love myself a good conversation." Ballista smirked, cracking his neck.

"Give 'im a couple of words for me, okay?" Black grinned.

"With pleasure." Ballista chuckled.

A few days later, Ballista reported back to the others.

"He was a tough nut to crack." Ballista admitted. "But he eventually started talking. He had access to some of DeRose's files, meaning he knew about some of the Forefathers' operations. According to him, they've been running regular smuggling up at the Manehatten docks."

"Guess I know where I'm going next." Black smirked.

In due time, the lead was researched, and Black was sent to the docks to handle the situation. The workers were hardly high quality, with Black defeating them with ease.

"Okay." He picked up the leader's clipboard as there were unconscious thugs hanging everywhere. "Let's see where this stuff was heading..." He glanced at the target address. "Whinneyapolis? Not any more..."

Black set off a flare, alerting the police, and quickly made himself scarse. He then reported the destination to his comrades.

"Whinnyapolis?" Micro frowned. "Was that all it said?"

"Yeah." Black nodded. "The stuff they were shipping wasn't much to talk about, but I can only assume they must have had guys over there waiting to pick it up at some kinda drop-in."

"Clever." Elite admitted. "But at least we stopped the shipment before it could reach its destination."

"Great work, Black." Armory smiled.

"Sterlin' work, boyo." Ballista admitted.

"Hey, easy with the praise." Black joked. "Don't wanna get a big head, y'know?"

"Oh, don't worry about that, mate." Ballista sniggered.

As more months passed by, Black continued on with his missions, taking time out whenever he could to drop in on Belle and Shade, and on White and his family.

On one visit to Dodge Junction, he saw that young Shine was also learning to fly.

"That's it, that's it..." White smiled, as Shine hovered inches above the ground, his tiny wings flapping like a hummingbird's. "Way to go, son!"

"Aren't you the clever one?" Silver added, as she and White both embraced their son.

"Heh-heh!" Shine giggled. "I'm the best!"

"That's right, sweetie." Silver nodded.

'Looks like Shade won't be the only gifted flyer in the family.' Black thought, as he observed the scene from behind a fence. 'Shine's going to grow up to be a fine young stallion. And with a stand up stallion like White, why not?'

He gave a wistful sigh.

'If only I could be there... I doubt White would've told him about me... and honestly, I don't blame him. Who would want a traitor for a uncle?' Black mused. 'He'd probably grow up, never knowing his uncle... in fact, he might never know his cousin.' He then thought of Shade. 'Huh, I wonder how they would take it if they met Belle and Shade...' He then looked over at Shine. 'I guess if they were ever to meet, they would get on like brothers. Just like...

Black couldn't bring himself to finish that thought as he left for the base, glancing at the family one last time... he felt like he was starting to see Ballista's point about not seeing the family.

More and more months passed, as Black found himself dealing with more and more smuggling operations, some of them involving advanced scientic equipment and supplies. Each time the security detail was growing more and more difficult, with tougher stallions with more armor and better weapons. But Black took them on with stride, Armory's armor and gadgets giving him a edge.

It wasn't till after bringing down a particularly big operation that Black recovered a transport manifest for the smuggled goods that came with a full address; an old college building in Whinneyapolis, which was currently a scientific research lab on the outskirts of the town.

"Whinneyapolis again..." Elite mused. "What do the Forefathers have going on up there?"

"Don't know." Black shrugged. "But I grabbed another goon. Maybe he knows something."

"I'll research the address." Micro offered. "Maybe that will provide more answers."

"Me and Titan will take on the goon. I read that this guy is a bit afraid of dogs." Ballista smirked evilly.

"Hehehehehe..." Titan laughed maniacally.

"I am starting to think that Ballista and Titan enjoys tormenting those guys too much." Black joked.

"Well, those two are good at what they do." Elite shrugged. "You should see what they do to guys when they are on an airship."

A couple more days later, Micro announced his findings to the Taskforce once more.

"I looked into the building and its history." He declared. "Though it is a legitimate research lab, it was recently bought by a Mr. Dysley."

"Dysley..." Elite whispered, "I was wondering when we'd run into him again."

"Again? I'm guessing you guys have crossed paths with him before?" Black asked.

"You could say that." Elite nodded. "Mr. Dysley, to many, paints himself as a respectable business-stalion. He runs a pharmaceutical company that supplies many medical locations all around Equestria... but he harbors a dark secret... he is in fact, a member of the Forefather's inner circle."

"You mean like one of the leaders?" Black gasped.

"Not entirely sure." Elite frowned. "But I wouldn't put it past him that he has somehow managed to climb up the ladders to such a position."

"But if he's a Forefather, then why is he still roaming about? Why hadn't we taken him down?" Black frowned.

"You think if we hadn't tried that, that he would still be going about his business, mate?" Ballista scoffed. "Obadiah and Sand Dollar, in spite of their positions, weren't all the popular in Saddle Arabia, let alone Equestria, and they were low-hanging fruits within the Forefathers. Mr. Dysley, however, is a whole new level entirely. He has money and smarts, and is in very high standing with everypony within Equestria. To try and 'slander' him would most likely result in us losing our jobs and dismantling this whole organization. Dysley knows he can't be touched by the legal system."

"It's sad but true." Armory sighed. "Regarding Dysley, we have to take him down ourselves."

"That won't be a problem. I can't stand ponies like that." Black glared, as he turned to Micro. "So, what has Dysley been doing exactly with this research lab?

"Well, to start off, he had all the current projects removed from within the lab, and brought in his own researchers." Elite announced. "And then had it made off-limits to the general public. He spent quite a pretty penny hiring a multitude of security officers to make sure ponies stay away."

"What's his deal? Seems a bit overkill for merely a research lab." Black grimaced.

"You would think that, but not for the kind of research Dysley does." Elite declared. "In our encounters with him, we learned that he's the head of one of the few groups within the Forefathers that researches dark magic."

"Dark magic?" Black cringed, remembering the scientists he'd ran into out in the frozen wastelands up north. "I didn't think he'dd be the type to get into that stuff."

"Neither did we." Shadow frowned. "But it doesn't change the fact that Dysley is a very influential member within the organization. A good sum of the funding the Forefathers have been receiving comes from him, and he has numerous valuable connections. To take him down could mean crippling many of the Forefathers' operations."

"At this point, I'm more concerned with his research than his status." Elite frowned. "From what we've been able to gather, he's been receiving all kinds of magical crystals and charms from various locations across Equestria. Whatever he needs all those supplies for, it can't be anything good."

"You don't know the half of it." Ballista joined them, followed by Titan.

"What do you mean, Ballista?" Shadow asked.

"We just got done interrogating our guest." Ballista revealed. "It took a while, but after Titan threaten to bite off his tool, he sang like a canary. According to him, Dysley has been working on a project of his own for a good while, and it's a real doozy."

"A 'doozy'?" Micro frowned.

"Ruh-huh." Titan nodded.

"Oh, yeah." Ballista nodded. "They call it Project: Bad Dreams. He says that Dysley has been going around Equestria, collecting a very unique and destructive force... and that force is... and you won't believe this: Nightmare Moon."

"What?!" Armory gaped.

"But how?" Shadow asked. "Nightmare Moon is gone. The Elements of Harmony purified her, turned her back into Princess Luna. Everypony knows that!"

"But what everypony doesn't know is that Nightmare Moon and Luna were never the same pony. As word would have it, Nightmare Moon was but a shadowy miasma that scoured the world, and upon finding darkness with Luna's soul, many saying was left as a parting gift by a certain umbrum of the Crystal Empire, latched onto her and together, became the feared Nightmare Moon we know. There were rumors saying that Nightmare Moon still lives on to this day, but only in wisps of miasma, imbued within her armor, the pieces scattered upon her destruction." Ballista explained. "Those very fragments hold the essence of Nightmare Moon. Dysley has those fragments, and I can only imagine the blighter's determined to harness that power for the Forefathers."

"This is far more grim than I imagined." Elite frowned. "We must launch an attack on Dysley's research lab immediately. If he somehow managed to unlock that dark magic, who knows what kind of damage he can do. Everypony, get ready."

"Well, I guess I will leave you guys to it." Armory sighed, as he made to leave.

"Hold on, Armory." Elite declared, "A situation as dire as this requires all hooves on deck, and that includes yours."

"Really?" Armory smiled. "Aw, thanks!"

"Don't get too excited." Elite told him. "You'll be providing cover fire only."

"Oh." Armory's face fell.

"It's better than nothing, though." Black nudged Armory. "Right?"

"Yeah, I guess..." Armory muttered... before his face lit up. "And it would be the perfect opportunity to test out one of my latest inventions!"

"Oh, and what is that?" Ballista asked.

"You'll see."Armory smirked, "It's going to be awesome!"

"Then it's settled." Elite declared. "Everypony, prepare yourselves for battle. You must depart ASAP!"

"You got it, boss." Black nodded. "Time to kick some flank..."

"Ruff!" Titan punched his fists together.

The Taskforce armed up, suited up, and readied their motor carriage. Armory was the last one there, his limp impeding his movement as he lugged a big metal briefcase into the carriage.

"Whoa, packing a bit much for just a mission, are you?" Ballista frowned.

"Kinda have to. The baby within this case is so big that you would need two stallions to carry it. So I had to make it into parts." Armory explained.

"And what exactly is this 'baby'?" Micro asked.

"Like I said, you'll see." Armory grinned. "Oh, sorry. I am just so giddy."

"Glad to have you with us again, pal." Black smiled. "Even if we're not technically going to fight side-by-side."

"I'll take what I can get." Armory shrugged, "Besides, someone has to cover your flanks."

"True that." Black nodded.

The Taskforce all got into the carriage.

"Okay, next stop: Whinneyapolis!" Shadow declared.

The carriage roared out of the headquarters' hidden passageway, arriving at the city by nightfall. They parked near to the research institute.

"By all likelihood, Dysley's little experiment will be going on in the main lab, where all the most advanced equipment resides." Micro declared. "That's on the west side of the building."

"Heads up, mates." Ballista pointed out several guards. "Looks like our welcoming commitee is ready to receive us."

"I've got a few things I'd like them to receive." Black smirked, readying his suit's crossbow. "We take them down first, then head inside."

"Go get 'em, guys." Armory smiled, lifting up his cannon. "I've got your backs."

"Let's put a stop to Dysley's twisted experiments." Micro smiled.

"With pleasure." Shadow nodded.

"Charge!" Ballista yelled.

"Aroooo!" Titan howled.

The Taskforce charged towards the guards.

"Intruders!" One guard yelled. "You know our orders: Kill them!"

The guards obeyed, meeting their aggressors head-on.

"Now there's a fine welcome." Ballista snorted, knocking one down with a headbutt. "No bloody manners, that's your problem."

Shadow dipped, ducked, dived and dodged the guards' crossbow fire, and returned some of his own, striking them with non-lethal blows (in hopes of later interrogation).

"Dysley really needs to hire better help." He quipped.

Micro, faced with several guards, utilised his skill with angles and vectors, firing his crossbow so the bolts glanced off various other surfaces, striking the guards from the back and sides.

"Shooting straight is so uncreative." He declared. "One needs to expand one's horizons, after all."

Titan, showing incredible speed for his size, grabbed two of the guards by the neck, knoked their heads together, then slammed them into the ground.

"Rrruff!" Titan smirked, before turning around and kicking some dirt over their prone bodies.

Black, of course, had no problem taking down the guards, whether through crossbow bolts or his hooves.

"You will not pass-urk!" One guard gulped as Black karate chopped him in the neck.

"Wrong." Black smirked.

Unbeknownst to them, a group of new guards, notably wearing tougher armor with riot shields and advanced crossbows, drawn by the commotion, sought to get the drop on them.

"Okay, stallions, you know the drill." The leader of the group announced. "Mr. Dysley hired us solely to combat the Taskforce Omega should they come."

"Um, sir, are you sure we should take them on? I heard these guys killed Sweet Tooth. You know, that psychopath that murdered a thousand ponies? What makes you think we will do any better?" One soldier spoke.

"Oh, please..." The leader sneered. "With all this riot gear Dysley had supplied us with, you would need something like... I dunno, a anti-carriage rifle to break our defense!"

"...What's an anti-carriage rifle?" The same soldier asked.

"Exactly!" The leader laughed. "Now let's fry these motherbuckers!"

Unbeknownst to those guards, they were spotted by Armory, who was atop the carriage, was looking through the sights... which was attached to a rather huge weapon. It was like a cannon, except the barrel being rather skinny, no bigger than a tin can, and made into several attached parts, being held aloft by a tripod. Along the side of the barrel read "Der Urknall". At the end was the handle and trigger... being held by Armory, who was ready to fire.

With a smirk, Armory declared:

"Hündinnen loves cannons."

Armory pulled the trigger, as a small, baseball-sized cannonball fired out like a Wonderbolt, sailing right into the group of guards, sending everypony that weren't incinerated upon explosion flying and screaming.

"Oh buck... they have an anti-carriage rifle." The leader gaped, barely dodging the blast, as he then screamed. "OH BUCK, THEY HAVE AN ANTI-CARRIAGE RIFLE!"

"Oh, yeah." Armory stroked his cannon. "I'd call that a successful test run."

The others were just as surprised as they saw the armored guards flying, most of them in pieces.

"Holy crap... was that Armory?" Black gaped.

"That crazy son of a draft horse." Micro smirked. "He must have created some sort of a high-powered sniper crossbow... with the crossbow being a cannon!"

"Will wonders of technology never cease?" Shadow chuckled.

Before long (especially with Armory unleashing heavy cover fire), the rest of the outside guards were taken down with ease.

"Good work, team." Ballista noted. "Now we go inside, where the real fight is no doubt waiting."

"Maybe we shouldn't go in through the front door." Black mused.

"Black has a point." Micro admitted. "There'll be more guards heading there. We could be here all night, fighting them, giving Dysley a chance to escape."

"We need a shortcut." Shadow mused. "Something like..."

Suddenly, a large hole was blasted in the west side of the building. The others turned in surprise to see Armory waving from the carriage, his cannon smoking.

"Like that." Shadow smirked.

"Come on, we need to shut this experiment down and fast." Ballista declared.

"I'm going after the one in charge." Black declared. "I'll see ya once I've pounded him into rich guy paste."

"Good luck!" Shadow called, as they rushed inside, and splitted up.

"Hey, Ballista, have you seen Titan?" Micro asked as they ran down a hallway, "He seems to have disappeared on us!"

"Well, from what I understand, Titan wanted to take an alternate route." Ballista shrugged.

"Are you sure we should have him go on his own? What if he comes across a whole bunch of guards?" Shadow frowned.

"Trust me, mate, knowing TItan, I don't think he'll have any problems..." Ballista smirked.

Meanwhile, on the roof of the abandoned college, Titan stood there in silence. He was panting a bit from all the guards he had taken down. Soon, he felt his ears twitching, hearing the sounds of guards under him. With a smirk and the closing of his eyes, he cricked his neck...

Fire up that loud
Another round of shots...

With a leap, Titan body-slammed through the roof.

Turn down for what

Naturally, everypony was caught by surprise when the Diamond Dog came crashing down the ceiling.

"WHAT THE BUCK?!" A guard screamed.

Turn down for what

"Rrrruh!" Titan charged toward the guards.

"Kill it!" One guard yelled.

The guards fired their crossbows, but Titan skillfully evaded the bolt, even scrabbling across the walls and ceiling. He landed next to one of the guards, knocking the crossbow out of his hooves, then sending him flying with a punch.

"RAAARRRGH!" One guard swung an armored hoof at Titan.

Titan caught the hoof in his jaws, then flung the stallion across the room.

"Ugh!" The stallion groaned as he hit the wall.

"Pile on!" Another guard yelled.

The guard all leapt onto Titan at once, but he threw them all off.

Turn down for what

Meanwhile, the others were fending the guards on the ground floor.

"Keep 'em comin', fellas!" Ballista headbutted one.

"I've been needing a good work-out." Shadow smiled, kicking one hard against a wall. "And decent sparring partners are hard to find."

"I certainly hope Dysley isn't paying too much for you fellows." Micro brought another down with a pinpoint shot. "Because you certainly aren't worth it."

Turn down for what

At the same time, Black was pounding his way through any guard that challenged.

"No time for you small fry." He tossed one aside. "I'm lookin' for the big fish..."

Turn down for what

Back with Titan, a desperate guard swung a pipe against Titan's chest, only for the pipe to shatter to pieces.

Fire up that loud
Another round of shots

"Grr..." Titan growled at him.

"...Mommy?" The guard was frozen with terror.

Swiftly, Titan grabbed him, flipped him upside-down and leapt into the air to deal a heavy piledriver.

"OH F-"

Turn down for what

Once more, guards were horrified as a Diamond Dog with a probably now-dead guard rose up from the dust.

"Please wake me up from this nightmare..." One guard trembled.

Meanwhile, within the main lab, Dysley was sitting at a work desk, examining the armor fragments that once belonged to Nightmare Moon, when suddenly, he felt the building shook, caused by Titan's floor crashing.

"What was that?" He yelped, looking around in shock.

"Sir, we appear to be under attack!" One of his underlings revealed. "The outside guards have already been defeated, and the walls have been breached!"

Dysley looked at footage from one of the building's security cameras, as indeed, Ballista and co. were mowing through the guards, and then glanced over at another footage as Titan was pummeling guards and throwing them around like rag dolls.

"Everest's lapdogs..." He growled. "So soon? No, not now..."

"What should we do, sir?" A short Pegasus stallion asked. "They're clobbering us!"

"We must act quickly!" Dysley told his underlings. "Take the fragments and flee! We must not allow our prize to fall into enemy hooves. The project must continue, even if the rest of us must forfeit our very lives! Go, go!"

"Yes, sir!" Two underlings nodded. They placed the armor fragments into a specially made case, and fled into a secret underground passage.

Dysley give a small sigh of relief as he then glanced back at a tape, seeing Black running down the hallway leading to where he was.

"...As for me, I am going to keep our 'guests' entertained..." Dysley glared, as he grabbed from a nearby desk a staff, capped with an amethyst jewel.

Moments later, Black entered the lab, kicking in the doors.

"Okay, Dysley..." He muttered, as he looked around. "Where are you?

Suddenly, a dark stream of energy blasted towards him.

"WHOA!" Black ducked, rolling out of the way. "What the-"

"Looking for me, Black Knight?"

Black glanced over at the shadows, as Mr. Dysley came out, with the staff raised, the jewel smoking from recent use.

"...Wait... you..." Black gaped. "You're that stallion... the one I saw at the trial that day! You're Mr. Dysley!"

"Hmm, perceptive, aren't you?" Mr. Dysley scoffed. "I must give you some credit... you have proven to be more of a problem than any one of us could imagine. It's no wonder those imcompetent Black Sheeps can't kill you."

"What can I say?" Black smirked as he rose to his hooves. "I am one tough S.O.B.. And I am here to put a stop to your little science project you got going here. So why don't you make this easy on us and give us the armor fragments."

"...How about no?" Dysley scowled as he fired another stream of black energy.

"Whoa!" Black ducked the blast. "Nice trick!"

"I have found a few interesting nicknacks in my time." Dysley smirked. "Which I shall to end your meddling existence!"

"Give it your best shot, rich boy." Black smirked, "Your money and your good looks won't save you this time."

"I don't need it to!" Dysley sneered, as he fired more blasts of dark magic.

Within the school, the others were fighting against the rest of the underlings.

"You think Black's okay?" Shadow asked. "I mean, he's no Titan."

"Of course." Ballista nodded "Dysley's just some feeb in a suit. Black can take him no problem.

Meanwhile, Black and Dysely continued their clash in earnest. Black fired his crossbow, but Dysley swatted the bolts away with the staff.

"My turn." Dysley smirked. He fired a blast that Black that knocked him into the wall.

"Yeowch..." Black gritted his teeth.

"Your armor is usless against the sepulchre sceptre's power." Dysley sneered.

"It'll take more than one zap to finish me." Black growled. "You won't be using that miasma stuff to hurt anypony."

"You fancy yourself a hero?" Dysley smirked. "Very odd words, coming from a convicted criminal. I knew from the moment you came into the courtroom that there was something not quite kosher there. I could tell right away you were really Elite's lapdog. And all it took was a veiled threat to your little brother to have you go on that exaggerated assassination attempt and get taken out of commission if not for a while."

"And you're feeling real proud of yourself, aren't you?" Black glared as the two circled each other.

"Why not? Ponies like you are so easy to manipulate. Why else would you throw away your reputation and your livelihood just to stop one of our projects? You do realize that there are many more projects like Infestation, some far worse than itself." Dysley mused. "With each brick you pull out, another will take it place, and the Forefathers' house remains forever strong. Don't you see, Black, you threw everything away for nothing! Plus, that eyepatch isn't doing you any favor."

"Shut it." Black snarled.

"Why do you insist on resisting us, Black? What's in it for you? As of now, you're a hero... a hero that everypony despises. Your name forever lives on in infamy as the stallion who murdered a village full of innocent ponies and changelings. You think that by defeating us, everypony will praise you as some big hero? Don't kid yourself!" Dysley cackled. "No matter what you do, you will always be hated by everypony who will never know the truth... especially your own brother..."

"I said shut up!" Black spat. "You're the real monster here! At least I'm not trying to use the remains of some dead broad!"

"But I'm just trying to make Equestria a better place." Dysley noted. "While you defend the current, flawed regime. What a waste, to throw your life away for that. I know Elite must have read you quite a spiel about doing good, but that just makes you a bigger fool for believing him."

"Better to be a fool than being in some cult filled with crazy ponies!" Black retorted.

"At least with my 'cult', I am still able to come home to my wife every night and go to work every day." Dysley smirked. "What about you? All you have to come back to is a small room they keep for you in that hidey hole of yours, unable to ever again roam free without persecution. That's the difference between your 'Taskforce Omega' and my 'Forefathers'... The Forefathers asked little of me, and have given me so much... while the Taskforce asked everything of you... and what do you have to show for it?"

Black felt his hooves twitching with rage.

"In the end, I have everything I could ever wanted, while you have nothing." Dysley said firmly. "And I pity you for it. Now, all you are is a criminal, a traitor, and a fool, a hero despised by everypony..." He shook his head sadly, "What a sad and lonely life you have, Black... sad and lonely ind-"

"SHUT UP!" Black roared, as he charged at him full-speed. "ARRRGH!"

Dysley was surprised, unable to raise his scepter in time as Black rammed him. Quickly, he unleashed a flurry of blows upon him, Dysley barely able to block half of his blows.

"Ugh!" Dysley growled, as Black's latest punch knocked him back, barely able to stand. "That's it. I've been going easy on you... but no more! Now, feel the sceptre's full power!"

The sceptre charged up.

"Not today!" Black snarled, fired his crossbow.

The bolt lodged into Dysley's hoof, the one holding the sceptre.

"Ah, dammit!" Dysley screamed. He pulled the hoof back just before the staff discharged, the pointing up at the roof, which collapsed under the onslaught. "Aw, fuuuu-!" Dysley yelled, as he and half the room was buried under the rubble.

As the dust cleared, Black soon felt his rage faded away as he glanced over the damage of the room.

"Crap... so much for recovering those fragments..." Black sighed. "But at least they're destroyed. And if they're destroyed, so is Nightmare Moon... I hope."

Black returned to the others, who were mopping up the remaining guards in the entrance hall of the college.

"Where's Dysley?" Ballista asked.

"He wound up burying himself and his project with some whacked-out staff." Black shrugged.

"Not exactly how the mission was supposed to go, but it's better than nothing." Micro admitted. "We better get out of here while the getting's good. With all the mess we made, the authorities will be here soon."

"Wait, where's Titan?" Black asked, "I didn't see him come in with us."

Suddenly, they heard muffled screaming above them, as the ceiling began to crack.

Turn down for what!

The ceiling caved in as Titan landed, making a small crater, followed by a bunch of badly injured guards.

"RUFF!" Titan barked with gusto.

"Yeesh, didn't bother to take the stairs?" Micro cringed as he glanced up at the three holes Titan had made.

"Ruff-ruff-ruffruff." Titan shrugged.

"Okay, maybe I shouldn't have had you listen to that song on my player." Black grimaced. "Seriously, Rookie had some very odd taste in music..."

"At least Titan did a good job of cleaning house." Ballista smirked, rubbing his head. "Isn't that right, boy?"

"Ruh-huh!" Titan panted happily.

The Taskforce returned to the headquarters, filling in Elite on the night's events.

"Well done, team." Elite congratulated his troops. "Once again, you have saved Equestria from a terrible evil."

"How'd it feel getting back onto the field... kind of?" Black asked Armory.

"Well, it wasn't quite what I was hoping for." Armory admitted. "But it felt good to fight alongside you guys again... even if it was from a distance."

"Dude, I think it suits you. Man, you should had seen their faces as you blew them away!" Shadow chuckled. "That sniper cannon thing of yours is awesome."

"Thank you." Armory smirked, "The only problem is that thing takes a while to put together... and those little cannonballs I used as ammo? I have to make each one by myself. Takes about a month or two to make one of them."

"Really? Why?" Micro asked.

"Can't tell you. It's a secret I will take to my grave." Armory shook his head. "Still, it's nice to know I was able to come through for you guys."

"You always did, Armory." Elite smiled.

"It's true." Black smiled. "Whether on the field, or in the workshop, you've always given us help and support when we needed it."

"Limp or no limp, you'll always be a vital part of this team, mate." Ballista grinned.

"You're one of us, Armory." Shadow smiled. "No matter what."

"A team is like a well-oiled machine." Micro added. "Without one of its pieces, even if the piece is a little scuffed, it cannot possibly function."

"Ruff!" Titan licked Armory on the cheek.

"Okay, I think you've made your point." Armory chuckled, wiping the saliva off. "Thanks, guys. Guess I had nothing to worry about after."

"Not a thing, teammate." Black patted him on the back. "Not a thing."

"And thanks to all of you, Equestria now has one less thing to worry about." Elite smiled. "Dysley and his twisted project are no more..."

Elsewhere, within the walls of Infinity, Mr. Dysley was lying on a bed, the room having only one source of light that was beaming over his bed, revealing his greatly wounded body, having barely survived being crushed under all the rubble.

He was not alone in the room, as a cloaked pony stood at his side, mostly hidden by the shadow, seemingly showing deep concerns for his bed-ridden fellow.

"So... what's the prognosis, doctor?" Dysley asked, his voice very weak.

"Not very good, I'm afraid." The cloaked pony sighed. "Me and my peers could only do so much, but with the severity of your injuries, I fear that your body will never fully recover. At best, you will be limping for the rest of your life... at worst... well, you might never walk again."

"I figured as much." Dysley murmured, twitching from the pain. "...You always did tell me that my big mouth would get me in trouble. Serves me right."

"I just can't believe it happened to you." The cloaked 'doctor' frowned. "...I should have been there. I heard that they had a Diamond Dog breaking through roofs, and that Germane pony of theirs had a 'sniper cannon' of sorts... maybe if I was there-"

"Then you would be sharing a bed with me." Mr. Dysley groaned. "Trust me, I know you. You always had a low threshold for pain."

"Still, thanks to them, you will be crippled for life." The cloaked stallion shook his head.

"If only that was the worst part." Dysley scoffed.

"How do you mean?" The cloaked stallion asked.

"You know how things work here, doctor." Dysley frowned. "Ponies who get hurt like me fall behind on their quotas. And when you fall behind on your quotas... well, let's say they don't have much use for useless ponies. I will probably be dead by the end of the month."

"No, I won't let that happen!" The cloaked stallion growled. "I can help you. Assist you in fulfilling your duties until you get better!"

"Then you will be in their crosshairs as well." Dysley shook his head. "Besides, you said so yourself, I will be crippled for the rest of my life. You would be covering for me for the rest of my life..."

"Then we must get you out of here!" The shadowed stallion said, concern in his voice. "Get you on an airship and fly you somewhere where they won't find you."

"Sorry old friend, but that's impossible." Dysley shook his head. "There is no escaping the Forefathers. Once they want you dead, you're dead. There's no way around it. They'll dispose of me, and with time, find some other smuck to take my place. It's how things work here..."

"And you're... okay with this?" The shadowed stallion murmured.

"I knew what I was getting myself into." Dysley said solemnly. "And I knew the moment something like this happened, I would be knocking on Death's door no matter what." He glanced wistfully at the cloaked stallion, "It will be up to you to finish Project: Bad Dreams."

"But sir..." The cloaked stallion protested, "I... I don't know if I..."

"I know... it will be tough with me gone... but I have faith in you, old friend." Dysley weakly smiled.

"...Thank you, sir." The cloaked stallion sighed, "...It was an honor working with you."

"Likewise." Mr. Dysley nodded, as he turned to look at his bedside table, which bore a picture of a newborn colt, a pegasus like him. "My one regret is that I shall not live to see my son grow up... but... in time, I know he will finish what we started..."

The present...

"Wow, that was some serious stuff." Caboose noted. "But so well narrated."

"I daresay that taking down Mr. Dysley was one of your proudest moments." Fletcher added.

"Yeah." Black nodded. "Those were some of the most exciting years of my life. I felt like the good times were never going to end... but of course, things turned sour soon enough..."

"See, this is what I mean!" Caboose frowned. "Another dramatic cliffhanger at the end of the cliffhanger. I know it's supposed to keep the readers hooked for the next chapter, but can't you give it a rest? If they're this far into the story, then of course they're sticking with it for the long haul."

"Don't mind, Caboose." Fletcher sighed. "You get used to it.

"Then he'd better used to the cliffhangers." Black smirked. "Because there's a lot more coming..."

"Oh, come on!" Caboose groaned.

Author's Note:

"Turn Down For What" belongs to Li'l John.

Comments

[HolyCross9]

I'm not sure if we've met Dysley's son yet.

[Bluecatcinema]

7406147 Not yet. But he'll be showing up in a later story.

[HolyCross9]

7406515 Which I'm guessing involves Princess Luna, correct?

[Bluecatcinema]

7406599 Perhaps. Just wait and see.

[Grekoy]

My feelings match Caboose's "Oh come on"