Lost Reflections

by Purple Patch

Chapter 2

Author's Note:

Happy New Year Everybody!
I thought it best to have, essentially, a demonstration of what the mercenaries are capable of.
Wanton death in all directions but they get what they need.
Equestria has much to fear but so, it seems, does Cascadius.
He doesn't underestimate the Elements and he's right not to, hence his attention to detail and intel.
It's an obsession of his but it comes in handy.
Here we also get a look at the Cult of Piggsicorn. I mentioned them in Old Fences and I thought I might bring them out a bit. I mean, the name itself is worth mentioning twice.
Put simply...they're a little bit messed up.
Incoming 4th Wall Breaking villain and she's completely fricking insane! I'm thinking Duel with Pinkie Pie.
She references Tomato Gaming a lot.
He is random fellow.
Also Chowder reference.
Doctor's voyage is based off Wolfenstein. I was inspired by Bronycommander who I'd like to thank for watching and commenting on my fics.
And just to warn you all, this gets rather violent.
You have been warned.
Enjoy.

“How soon do you think it can be ready?”

“These workings are very complex, Mr Cascadius” Bovril said calmly, adjusting his lens as the silver crystal pony from the Echo Squad looked over the peculiar item in its case “With Agravain here, we will have a great deal more understanding of the crystals but it will not be ready for a good few weeks at the most”

“I understand the caution. Don’t rush things unless absolutely necessary” Cascadius said with an understanding smile “You’ve saved me considerable time already and I’m certain Agravain will pull his weight. His ancestors helped make most of the crystals we depend on and the art form has travelled from parent to foal over time”

He gave a nod to Agravain who smiled modestly as he continued.

“Crystalcraft is a very intricate and advanced art. I myself am far from an expert. I hope you can teach us much”

Agravain bowed.

“Bovril. Keep me updated. As long as things are running smoothly, I’d like you to keep yourself free for any potential tasks”

“Of course, sir. I have several projects recently-finished and I’ve been meaning to try them out at some point”

A clean, collected, beige-coated, black-maned earth pony from New Eweland, Bovril was the organisation’s technical expert. Weapon manufacture was his field of expertise and he was always ready to test them.

He enjoyed the latter part a little too much for some ponies liking, particularly the parts where he’d closely examine the effects with fascination in front of his dying or mutilated victim, congratulating them for surviving at all.

All in such a jovial fashion.

Still, Cascadius was used to working with ponies who were more than a mite damaged. Damaged things sometimes made the best damagers. Content, he left the laboratory and headed to his study, passing by at least a dozen firm friends and capable warriors.

Things, overall, were looking good.

Playing his cards right could allow them to take Equestria by storm.

Still, it never paid to grow overconfident.

He would need more time to plan and prepare, a single slip up could prove fatal.

He stopped outside the door to his study as the rank smell of lard and bile filled his nostrils. He sighed and gave a chant.

“Cut and cured and hacked and hung”

“The Mother Sow will eat her young” A pallid figure emerged beside him. He was a pony but certainly didn’t look like it.

He was bloated in his belly and neck and yet his legs and hooves were lanky and withered. His off-white coat looked drained, as if it had once been a different colour. His mane was gone and his tail had been shaved. Most noticeably he was wearing a ceramic half-mask shaped like a pig, bright pink with tiny colourless eyes.

A cultist of the Piggsicorn, a Squealer as they were known.

He was a fidgety fellow and shuffled about while making porcine noises, grunts, snuffles and snorts.

Even Cascadius considered the Cult a little too disturbed for his liking.

“Paymaster” the Squealer said “The Grand Gorging Council of the Trough assures you that the transgressions of our false and former Grand Hogfather are no actions of ours”

“I do not doubt that. No reprisal will be carried out upon them or any other of your...brethren” Cascadius assured him “Royal Flush will made to pay for his crimes against both our organisations”

“The Gorging Ones are concerned that you did not send one of our own to punish the apostate” the Squealer grunted “There are none who may snuffle and snap, none who may gnaw and gnash greater than our hunters”

“Our organisation depends on yours keeping a low profile. We won’t leave any trail. Your hunters, however, insist on wearing your masks”

The Squealer gave a drawn-out wheeze and pawed at his mask almost possessively.

“Tis not a mask, ignorant heathen, ‘tis a mark! A mark of the Piggsicorn’s blessing. When she comes and spreads her words, drowning the heretics in blood and dripping, only those who bear the mark will be spared”

“Quite understood” the paymaster said, meaning no word that came out his mouth “But that mark is hard to hide...for ones so clearly blessed by the one true goddess and saviour”

The Squealer gave a contemplative drone and nodded frantically.

“You speak truly...I shall carry your reasons to the Gorging Ones. But the transgressor is ours once he is brought here”

“Of course. Thank you for your time”

He gave a sigh of relief as the cultist left. He couldn’t stand the smell.

In the darkness of his study, Cascadius looked over the profiles he’d been building over the long and painstaking Intel-gathering exercises he’d been taking since the fall of Nightmare Moon.

He would need to memorise this and be ready for when the time came to strike.

‘Applejack

Bearer of the Element of Honesty

Female Earth Pony. Born and raised in Rural-Ponyville.

Runs Sweet Apple Acres, Ponyville’s most prominent source of food and income.

Proud and hard-working farmer.

Physical Strength- Very High. Capable of dislodging every hanging fruit from a tree with a single kick.

Magical Capacity- N/A

Speed- High.

Stamina- Medium. Tends to overexert herself.

Strategy- Medium.

Fighting Experience- Medium. Can be called to defend threats to the farm when necessary.

Weapons- Lasso (High Efficiency)

Known Family Members- Parents Bright Mac and Pear Butter (Deceased), Granny Smith (Grandmother), Big Mackintosh (Elder Brother), Applebloom (Younger Sister), Winona (Pet Dog-Collie). For more information on Apple Family, consult folder,

Vulnerability- High. Close relationship with family.

Best Course of Action: Cruciamite will only disable affinity with the earth, likely to enrage. Not advised. Important-Watch The Hooves. Tire through defensive combat and wait for an opening’

*

Dinky Doo was enjoying the present from her parents.

And she was understanding why her mother enjoyed her job so much. Seeing those bright smiles, hearing those kind words, all day every day. It must have been so wonderful to Ponyville’s best mail-mare.

She’d need to try it when she got older.

Her father, on the other hoof, seemed to never live the same day twice, though as a time-traveller he could well do so if he tried but he mentioned something once about holes in the space-time continuum. Dinky wasn’t quite sure what that meant but the space-time continuum didn’t sound like something you wanted holes in.

She was sitting on her bed watching as he, a black-and-brown dappled griffon and a pretty young pegasus mare with a long crimson mane and what looked like faint russet-brown zebra stripes down her back raced down the corridors of an old Stirropean castle. Bolts thudded into the walls behind them as angered shouts filled the air.

Dinky’s heart was in her mouth.

She’d seen him get up to these sorts of things when she’d accidently wandered into the open Timey-Wimey Box when she was four in a game of hide and seek. Next thing she knew, the Doctor was worrying how he’d apologise to her mother while a monstrous tyrannosaur that, last time she checked, died out millennia ago, was nipping at their fetlocks.

And that was before those really bizarre-looking creatures with the toilet plungers and police lights showed up.

Still, this all seemed so real. And the pony and griffon beside him looked so frightened.

They neared the dead end of a castle, a small, narrow window staring out in front of them.

With pale, nervous faces, the three turned to see a squad of griffon troopers, armed with automatic crossbows pointed straight at them. At the odd sound of thumping brazen machinery, they parted as a thin, mean-looking grey griffin with the tips of his feathers dyed yellow and a strange contraption that was shaped like an eagle but huge, metallic, possessed of cold red eyes and components all across its body that breathed fire and spat missiles.

The griffon leader smiled and spoke.

“Well, Doctor. You seem to have, ironically, run out of places to run out. It appears at last I have the upper talon”

“I never run out of places to run out...if that was worded correctly” the Doctor proclaimed “And besides, you seem to forget, Colonel Lammergeyer, I’m quite safe where I stand”

“Are you blind or simply brain-dead? You are outnumbered and surrounded by our bows”

“Exactly. You have weapons, I don’t. You can kill me but the moral high-ground is mine”

The grey griffon hissed.

“I had almost forgotten how infuriating you can be. And you, Sergeant Alpenstock, you disappoint me” He shook his head at the brown griffon beside the Doctor “I had so hoped I could teach your simple kind loyalty and obedience but it seems a filthy Pullet like yourself is good for nothing but chains or flames”

“Hey, watch it! He’s a far better griffon than you ever could be!” the scruffy time-traveller barked, placing a hoof over his friend’s shoulder, causing Lammergeyer’s feathers to ruffle with fury.

“You understand nothing! His worthless kin have stolen from the true gilded griffon race for far too long. They and all those that fall short of the ideal image of bird shall be swept away like the insects they are. Pure-born Raptors rule the skies, all others peck the soil. I thought this was what I taught you, Alpenstock”

The brown griffin was quiet for a moment, looked to the Doctor and spoke.

“It is what I was taught, Colonel...but not what I learned. What I learned was that there truly is no greater evil than one who tries to separate good and evil based on the colour of your skin or feathers or blood! You disgust me! You and your Chancellor and his insane dreams of destruction! There isn’t a bird in Griffonia without Pullet blood or Strix blood or Psittaci blood or Passerine blood in them and you know it! You just choose not to see it, just so you get the privilege of turning your beak up at those who don’t look like you! Look at you! Preaching words of arrogance and hatred in front of young griffons with saffron and urine-salt in your feathers! And now...now I find out how we’ve been making those!” He pointed one disdainful talon at the mechanical beast as he bellowed with indignation “Taking eggs from their mother’s nest and locking them up in a suit of steel?! Machines powered by unborn hatchlings! What kind of sick, twisted insults to griffonkind are you?!”

“Weak-minded coward! Do you not see the glory in these super-avians?” Lammergeyer rasped “Eagletrons feel no pain, no fear, no weakness! Eagletrons are the griffin race perfected! Eagletrons are the future!”

“I’ve been to the future, Lammergeyer” the Doctor said sagely “They’re not in it...and neither are you”

‘You tell him, daddy!’ Dinky thought proudly at she drummed her back-hooves on her bedroom floor in tension.

“I don’t have time for this idiocy!” Lammergeyer squawked “You two will die for your insolence but should you give me back my war-prize, you will die quickly”

The mare edged back, trembling as her two friends shielded her.

“This is Princess Bonjela Eglantine of Trotterdam!” Alpenstock hissed “You’ll show her respect”

“She’s a half-breed mute! I’ll show her none!” Lammergeyer clacked his beak “Give her to me or prepare for a fate worse than death”

The Doctor had been staring at the Eagletron for some time and snapped back to the question in the manner of a pony who’d completely lost interest in the topic.

“Sorry, I’ve just been thinking about what you said. It’s interesting you should talk about the future. Machines really do become quite prominent in our daily lives...but they’re only as good as the folks who make them”

“Ha! Griffon technology is the greatest in the world!” Lammergeyer clucked “Nothing can stand against the Eagletrons!”

“Nothing you know of...” the Doctor said, reaching for his pocket “And you don’t know me”

The sonic screwdriver lit up and buzzed right before the Eagletron gave a deafening screech, firing bolts, missiles and flames in all directions. Lammergeyer was struck in the beak by its steel wing which was opening and closing frantically, hitting the walls of the narrow corridor as his troops fell about in chaos.

“Duck!” the Doctor yelled.

“That’s racist!” Alpenstock yelled back before Bonjela grabbed both of them as they hurled themselves to the floor. The wall behind them took a missile blast dead-on and gave way.

“Right then...” the Doctor said to his colleagues “I hope you two can carry me, ‘cause I left my flying licence at home” And he spun round and dashed through the open wall with his famous catch-phrase before his friends swooped down to grab him by his front-hooves.

“ALLONS-Y!”

Dinky giggled and cheered as she watched her father being carried through the air grinning like a colt with a cry of “I can see the Brandenbird Gate!”

“Dinky” She heard her mama calling from downstairs “Lunch is ready”

Excitedly, Dinky tottered downstairs and was greeted to a table of mushroom soup, hot peanut-butter bread-rolls, her favourite cheese with the red-wax cover and carrots straight from Carrot Top’s garden.

Reaching the table, she saw Tootsie Flute already sitting down. This was nothing new, Sparkler and Tootsie often paid a visit to help Derpy get lunch ready. What didn’t happen so often was Pipsqueak doing the same, staring at Dinky with those bright, shiny, nervous eyes of his.

“W-w-we waited till you came down...” he stammered.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to. You must be hungry” Dinky smiled, ruffling his scruffy mane before sitting down “There. Now let’s eat”

The three foals dug in as Dinky’s mama entered, baking gloves on her front-hooves and flour on her face.

“There you are, little Muffin” She craned down and kissed her daughter on the forehead, sprinkling her with the same flour. Many foals her age would’ve been embarrassed but Dinky simply giggled.

“The mirror’s great, mama! You wouldn’t believe the things Daddy does when he’s not at home”

“My mother said that about my father once” Pip mumbled off-hoofedly.

“I’d be careful, Dinky” Derpy advised “Some of what he does shouldn’t be seen by foals”

“She said that too” Pip’s face was grim.

“I don’t want you to get scared. All those monsters and villains and life or death. You might lose sleep”

“...she never said that”

“Oh, um...Pip’s train back to Trottingham’s delayed so he’s staying over here for a while” Derpy explained “Is that alright with you two?”

“Sure it is” Dinky piped up “Do you have your Ogres and Oubliettes figure?”

“Yep, right here. I also got a few others from my...er...” he blushed “...my collection”

“You have a collection of Ogres and Oubliettes action figures?” Tootsie Flute asked, raising her eyebrow.

Pip nodded nervously.

“That’s cool” Dinky said excitedly “Now Tootsie can play too”

“Oh um...I don’t know if I’ll like Ogres and Oubliettes” the little baby-blue unicorn twiddled her front hooves “Besides...I kinda’ wanted to practice the flute after lunch. Lyra’s been teaching me some really nice tunes and I wondered if Dinky and you would listen...”

“Oh that’s alright. I’ve a solution” Pip brought up his rucksack, rummaged through it and produced another action figure, a dark-grey doe with silver locks of hair behind her ears, sea-blue eyes and a burgundy robe “This is Beresymph the Whistler, Lady Alwyn’s handmaiden. She’s blind but she sees through the song of the sounds around her and casts magic through that song. So you can use your flute to cast her spells”

Tootsie Flute tilted her head in thought.

“Well...” she said at length “I guess I could try. It does sound kinda' fun. You mean you can just play the game how you want?”

“Well there are some rules but not many. It’s all your own story really. Me and Tungsten are trying to make a club for school”

“Well, I’ve got a story for these brave heroes” Derpy called out as she brought forth a basket of steaming goodies that made her so famous across Ponyville and announced in a deep, dramatic voice.

“The Journey To Muffin Mountain!”

*

‘Rarity

Bearer of the Element of Generosity

Female Unicorn. Born in Manehattan, Ponyville Upbringing.

Runs Carousel Boutique, Ponyville fashion emporium.

Talented seamstress.

Physical Strength- High. Though not often resorted to.

Magical Capacity- High.

Speed- Medium.

Stamina- Medium.

Strategy- High.

Fighting Experience- Low. Avoids combat whenever possible.

Weapons- Possible Affinity with Magic Gemstones and Fabric (Medium Efficiency)

Known Family Members- Hondo ‘Magnum’ Flanks (Father), Cookie Crumbles (Mother), Sweetie Belle (Younger Sister), Opalescence (Pet Cat-Angora), Spike (Possible Affections? Uncertain),

Vulnerability- High. Close, if dysfunctional, relationship with family.

Best Course of Action: Cruciamite will disable magic. Should fall easily to swift follow-up but don’t let down guard'

*

The Crossfort was the most heavily defended place in Boulette City. The house of the ruling senator, a pony who had a great deal of power and influence over the outskirts of Equestria further away from Celestia’s eye.

Life here was hard. There was a definite rift between the few prosperous and the many destitute. Many of its rulers were involved with underhoof dealings with criminals or even outright enemies of Equestria. In practice, the city’s system was thoroughly corrupt but not outwardly destructive. Nonetheless, the city had only become an Equestrian state in recent centuries and many of the populace were possessed of an anti-royalist sentiment. There was a widely-held belief in Canterlot that in the worst pony in Boulette was more beloved and trusted by the citizens there than the best pony in Canterlot.

This was proven wrong when the worst pony in Boulette ended up its leader, leading to a mass emigration of Boulette’s protesting citizens. How Senator Royal Flush had won the election was beyond anyone but foul play was a given at this point. He and the city representative in Canterlot, Carcassonne, were not friends and often came to both verbal and physical blows when meeting in public.

Right now, Senator Royal Flush was a very powerful pony and aimed to become more powerful.

That must have been why he’d turned on the very individuals who helped him acquire that power.

Tybalt gave a sigh and Miura’s eyes narrowed as they gazed out at the Crossfort.

The wanton pursuit of power often led to its loss.

Tybalt and Miura often worked together on missions. The two were very compatible in battle.

Tybalt was a black-and-white-speckled Chineighse earth pony, possessed of a grey ponytail of a mane. He wore a tasselled red jerkin with bandoliers thrown across his chest and shoulders and toted a fedora with a trophy band of hair, feathers and teeth of those who crossed him.

Tybalt was a laid-back sort but he’d had a rough upbringing, like many in his organisation. Upon their arrival in the Equestrian outskirts, his parents, vagrants from Horn Kong, were press-ganged into slavery at a plantation in the badlands. Tybalt escaped and was taken in by a bandit group where he learnt his trade. Raiding the plantations, he added the rescued labourers to his gang and forcibly put the plantation owners to work on the fields they used to own. When the judiciary forces came after him, they’d find the plantation, and those left within, burnt to ash. A way of advising them against coming after him. Every time they tried, Tybalt and his gang would leave a mountain of their pursuers dead and burning by the crossroads. He was young, cocky and comparatively inexperienced, something Cascadius never let him forget. But if the greenest among their organisation could make such deadly performances, their enemies would soon be dreading meeting the older and wiser members.

Miura was very different, a dark grey pegasus from Trotterdam with long purple mane and a trailing tail. She wore a plain black cloak and carried her sword at her back, balanced between her wings. She wasn’t one for decoration but nonetheless wore pitch-black lipstick and had inscribed the oath of the warrior in navy-blue kanji onto her teeth.

Her missionary parents died of the plague in rural Neighpon around the same time the resurgence of the Iron Sun Shogunate took place. Indoctrinated and given little choice but to fight or die, she rose to command the Tonbokiri, the Shogunate Secret Police. Her name became synonymous with pain and death and on the battlefield she was unstoppable, taking the heads of over two hundred enemies and lining them across the conquered border. In the battle of Tanpopo, Miura set out to kill the Kirin leader, Lady Snow, in mid-air. They crossed blades and Miura was cut down, hurtling into the river. She was marked off as killed in action.

Clearly they’d been wrong.

Both of them were observing the Crossfort impatiently from atop a warehouse on the opposite street as they waited for their ‘transfer’ to get ready.

“How long is he going to take? Master Cascadius ordered swiftness” Miura growled, pacing across the rooftops.

“Chill out, doll. He should be nearly ready” Tybalt relaxed against the wall, twirling his flintlocks

A shadow swept over them. Looking up, they saw a grey cloth carried limply upon the breeze. As it slowly writhed and weaved in mid-air, it caught itself on an aerial on the warehouse they stood upon. Wrapping itself round and round, a stallion materialised from inside it, jumping down and bowing, smiling all the while.

“Very nice, old master, very nice indeed” Tybalt said, stamping one hoof in approval as Miura rolled her eyes “How did it go?”

Lambasar the Veilmaker pulled at his turban, unravelling it to produce an intricate map of the Crossfort.

“Excellent work. This job’s as good as done. See, Miura, patience is a virtue”

Lambasar smiled and looked around. Puzzled, he tapped his hoof three times.

“Oh yeah, she wandered off” the young stallion said, shrugging “She does that”

Lambasar nodded and rolled out the map on the ground.

“Right” Miura said “After we seal off the area, Tybalt can take the front. I will go round the back into the grounds. That leaves you, sir, with the roof”

Lambasar nodded.

“Our mutual friend will probably appear from somewhere or other. Look for a trail of carnage and go fast in the opposite direction. Remember, Cascadius ordered the Senator captured alive. Best bring any who back down too...The trainees will need a little target practice”

The guards at the front door of the Crossfort were thoroughly confused by the wind patterns. That grey rag had been circling in the sky for hours.

Further down the street came the sound of a crash followed by several more, an alarm and some screaming. Smoke appeared from above the buildings in the distance. The guards looked to each other and shrugged.

That wasn’t their problem.

There came a groan and a dirty-looking young stallion came stumbling towards them, muttering.

“You can’t fire me, I quit, un...grateful son of a...urgh, I’m so sick...”

“Hey, beat it! This is government property!” One of the guards approached him, getting out his baton.

“Dude, I just need a cab fare...maybe even a bar fare...” the stallion gagged.

“I said beat it you bucking lowlife, unless you want a fetlock broken!” The guard grabbed the vagrant by the collar.

“Hey, hooves away, ya crazy nag!” the young stallion flailed out. Something sharp pierced his shoulder causing him to jump and snarl at the stallion in front of him who appeared to be sobering up quickly.

“Aw curd...look, I’m so sorry, man. It was the drink talking...I...I’ll be going, don’t worry, you won’t see me-”

The baton was swung across his face, sending him careening against the wall. The guard bared his teeth and reached for his firearm.

“C’mon man, this is harassment!”

As quick as he’d drawn it, the guard jerked slightly and stood completely still as the stallion who’d incurred his wrath sped off into the alley. The remaining guard by the door called out.

“Hey, you’re letting him get away”

The guard’s pistol clattered to the ground.

“What are you doing? Go after him, he trespassed!”

The guard started to turn back to his partner at the door, his eyes blazing red and yellow, froth pouring from between his bared teeth.

“What...what’s wrong with you?”

And with the scream of a mad beast, he grabbed his baton and pounced.

By the time Tybalt had discarded the ragged coat, paid the beggar he’d borrowed it from and reappeared, donning his hat and straightening his belt, the demented guard who’d assaulted him was beating the face of his compatriot into an unsightly mass of crimson pulp and bone shards on the steps of the Crossfort. The young mercenary picked up the pistol that’d been dropped, eyed it and threw it away distastefully.

“Ugh, piece a’ curd” he sneered “State-of-the-art my flank. Now this...” He drew his revolver and spun it around his hoof “This is a real stallion’s gun” He took notice that the guard was paying no attention to him as he continued hitting the remains of his colleague. He slowly drew his revolver downwards towards the crazed stallion’s cranium.

“Yeah that Banshee Dragon tooth will do that to ya’. That’s why you gotta’ peg ‘em before they get close...” He replaced the tooth in his trophy band wrapped round his hat and clicked the revolver.

“...Like this”

The gate to the Crossfort grounds was guarded by six armed enforcers. Ten more patrolled within the grounds.

Miura knew they would be sixteen corpses once she was ready.

The shuriken had shredded the tire of a fuel truck in the city square two streets away. All attention would be focussed on that area until the smoke cleared. That would take an hour and a half at least.

‘Time enough to accomplish our objectives’ she thought as she paced toward the gate.

“Citizen, nopony is allowed to enter the Crossfort without permission” the gate commander barked “Leave immediately. We are authorised to use lethal force” As she drew nearer, the handle of the uchigatana showing, the guards drew rifles.

“By order of the Senator, all foreigners outside of the restricted zones are to be detained on sight! Identify yourself!”

Miura gave them all an unimpressed stare.

“If you do not comply, we will be forced to fire”

Miura opened her gleaming sea-green eyes wide and spoke, baring her tattooed teeth.

“Fire” she ordered them.

In the Crossfort grounds, the patrol snapped to attention as they heard the crackle of gunfire outside.

They turned to see a grey pegasus mare in a black cloak and a drawn sword standing before them, expressionless and rigid as a statue.

There was a gentle breeze.

With a metallic groan, the gates burst open, their locks cut clean in two.

Then six objects flew over the walls on either side of those gates each flying exactly the same height and distance and landing beside her in a flawless line.

The heads of the gate guard, staring at them with open mouths and wide eyes.

“Good afternoon. I just started working here” Miura said calmly “Would somepony mind showing me to the Senator?”

The guards raised their rifles, fear apparent in their eyes.

“No matter...I’ll find him myself”

*

‘Rainbow Dash

Bearer of the Element of Loyalty

Female Pegasus. Born in Cloudsdale.

Ponyville Weather-Pony.

Expert flyer.

Physical Strength- Medium. Power relies in force, determined by speed.

Magical Capacity- N/A.

Speed- Very High. Able to perform multiple Sonic Rainbooms at a whim.

Stamina- Very High.

Strategy- Low.

Fighting Experience- High. Regularly came to blows with bullies in her youth.

Weapons- N/A

Known Family Members- Parents (Missing, possibly deceased), Scootaloo (Foster Younger Sister), Tank (Pet Tortoise- Desert),

Vulnerability- Medium. Unwilling to back down even when threatened.

Best Course of Action: Cruciamite will impede flight. Threat greatly lessened but will not fall easily. Under no circumstances allow her to perform a Sonic Rainboom’

*

Senator Royal Flush relaxed in his office.

He was triumphant. Every day he felt the need to remind himself.

Tomorrow his portrait would hang in his office. A week later, they’d hang it in every house in Boulette.

He had some big changes in mind for his city.

Even he was surprised he’d gotten this far. After that meddling Canterlot-loving hussy, Carcassonne, had implicated him and his family as heads of the Cult of Piggsicorn (Among other things), his polls took a turn for the worst. Pleading his case at Canterlot was not a pleasant business. The Princess had few kind words to say to him and Carcassonne had even fewer.

Yet who should he meet in Canterlot but the head of the Glass family, who he’d long been dealing with. She too, it seemed, had fallen on hard times. But she’d been useful. By Lucretia and Superbus, she’d been useful.

The ponies she’d recommend he have a ‘chat with’ had taken care of everything.

All information that may have led to his demise disappeared overnight as did most of the ponies supplying it. The witnesses either could not be found or treated the whole thing as news to them. He was acquitted in Canterlot which made him a hero in Boulette, maintaining dignity amidst suspicion and braving the imperialism of the idealistic and unchecked Princess who dared call herself the ruler of Boulette’s proud and prosperous citizens.

Oh, he had plans to change that.

He had so many plans.

“Mister Senator, sir?! Come in! Urgent!”

The transceiver crackled with noise and Royal Flush answered.

“What, what is it? Front desk?”

“No sir, communications! We have a situation...Well...two...no, wait...oh Lucretia...Three situations, sir! Three huge situations!”

“What are you talking about?! Get me a reading for Superbus’ sake!”

At his desk, a monitor screen flashed into life and produced three images.

One of a rangy, dappled earth pony in a jerkin leaning against the front door, two guards sprawled out beside him with very little left of their heads.

One of a dour grey pegasus in a black cloak kneeling in the grounds, cleaning her sword as sixteen heads surrounded her in a circle.

And one of a gentle-looking, bearded, green unicorn in grey robes on the roof, playing from a wooden flute. As the camera switched to an aerial view of a police airship, he saw the twelve rooftop snipers suspended from the roof, hanging by their necks from lengths of cloth.

All three of the strange killers turned their gaze, at once, towards the camera and waved.

The Senator felt sweat pouring from every pore in his body.

He brushed his mane out of his brow and felt the toupee come loose.

They were here.

They’d found him.

“Comms! Repel the intruders!” he shouted down the transceiver “Shoot on sight! I want every available unit down here immediately! Do you understand?! Inform the city defences! The Crossfort is under attack!”

“Yes, sir. All available units proceeding to these coordinates"

Tybalt heard raised voices from behind the front door.

Miura watched several more patrols making their way down into the grounds.

Lambasar noticed the airships and helicopters changing direction towards the Crossfort.

In the darkness and silence of the air ducts...somepony giggled.

Each one thought alike.

‘And now the fun begins’

Tybalt rushed into the street behind him, turned and adopted a runner’s position.

The front door burst open as Boulette City Defence Agents poured out, bolt rifles at the ready.

The mercenary leapt forward, revolvers firing, and propelled himself forward like a quarrel from a crossbow. One of his key trademark fighting styles, Tybalt wore spur-like skates strapped around his hooves which kept him moving on the ground while firing and, at the same time, avoiding being fired upon, making him a proverbial whirlwind of leaden death as he zoomed through the corridors of the Crossfort, a storm of bullets and fallen foes in his wake.

Miura’s skill with the sword was matched by few and in the air she was as final and fatal as a crippling curse upon the soul, snuffing out any life that presented itself, more heads for her demonstration.

Lambasar, meanwhile, had vanished as the grey cloth from earlier tripled and tripled again in length and size, hurtling towards the air support like a swarm or a smog, sending them lurching out of control, blown far from the Crossfort, and plummeting to earth in mighty explosions.

At the Communications desk, a bright yellow unicorn stallion with a white mane was tapping away frantically at the main Intel monitors.

“Subjects are en route to the lobby, repeat, they are heading to the lobby. Cut them off! 6th Platoon, do you copy? Damnit, is anypony left out there? Barricade the main door, I want nopony getting in! Find out where that Haissanic went!”

It was clear the wooden doors wouldn’t hold these ferocious killers. As the desk officer patted in coordinates, great metal barricades drew together with a rumble of cog-work. It was thirty inches of compound Boulette steel, hardest available metal anywhere in the region. Nothing would get through the door anytime soon.

Provided it was allowed to close.

With a crash, the wooden doors splintered and the steel doors jammed as a metal desk-chair was hurled forward and landed squarely between the metal barricades. The chair bent and squeezed but wasn’t to break as, through the splintered openings, a revolver poked its head out and fired. It hit the door-controls, sending sparks flying and circuits fizzing. All doors to Communications Room shot open as, from either side of each other, Tybalt and Miura strode in.

“I’d leave that alone, Mister” the earth pony’s revolver shot forward before the desk officer could reach a firearm “Now if you wouldn’t mind, we’d like to ask a few questions”

“Your senator has been spying on us. It was foolish of him to believe we wouldn’t take exception to that” Miura growled “Log into his data banks and tell us exactly who he was sending the information to”

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with!” the officer managed to say to the derision of his assailants. He was betraying his horror quite prominently “We have a SWAT team coming in from the emergency hanger. They will not stop firing until you're piles of mulch!”

Tybalt gave a coy smile.

“I wouldn’t bet on that”

The SWAT team faced the elevator doors with grim faces.

Each of the twenty-four stallions was armed with state-of-the-art weapons and guard, bulletproof shields and armour, automatic rifles, flash-bang explosives, infra-red, the works.

Any amount of hostile forces in the area would die in a hail of bolts.

There were none who could match Boulette Special Forces in open combat.

“Okay, you know the drill” the commander barked “These are armed assassins, targeting the Senator. We’ve already sustained heavy casualties. If it doesn’t look like a Boulette citizen, do not let it leave the city alive. Lethal force is fully authorised”

“Just how I like it”

The voice had come from above and did not sound safe in the slightest.

The SWAT team looked up as, with a hellish growl, a chainsaw burst through the metalwork of the elevator ceiling and ripped it open.

They fell backwards, stunned as a gaunt, chalk-white earth pony with a wild green mane and the most hideous, blood-red smile anypony had ever seen, greeted them with a nightmarish grin as she revved up the chainsaw and spoke in a terribly unhinged manner.

“First Floor! Slaughterhouse! Ding!”

*

‘Fluttershy

Bearer of the Element of Kindness

Female Pegasus. Born in Cloudsdale, raised in Ponyville.

Ponyville Animal Expert, Vet and Carer.

Meek individual at home with nature.

Physical Strength- Low.

Magical Capacity- N/A.

Speed- Medium. Doesn’t normally fly.

Stamina- Medium.

Strategy- Medium.

Fighting Experience- Very Low. Abhors violence of any kind.

Weapons- The Stare (Important-Very High Efficiency-See Folder), Various animal control tools and appliances (High Efficiency)

Known Family Members- Parents and Younger Brother, Zephyr Breeze (Cloudsdale), Angel Bunny (Pet Rabbit- Pygmy White), Various pets and animals (See Folder),

Vulnerability- High. Is unwilling to see a single living thing harmed before her.

Best Course of Action: Important-Do Not Allow Her To Stare! Blind, permanently or temporarily. Don’t waste Cruciamite when anything will do. Otherwise, a docile enemy but not to be underestimated. Neutralize as quickly and efficiently as possible’

*

“So you admit to the charges that were set on you that placed you under house arrest?”

Raven Inkwell took in the sight of Countess Magnifying Glass.

The seven years of residential incarceration had not been kind to her.

She looked appalling. In fact, she sounded and smelled appalling to boot. Seven years ago, she’d already been painfully thin. Now she wasn’t so much a pony as much a rather stunted giraffe. She didn’t want to think about how long it had been since she’d washed. The skin around her hooves was dry and worn, cracking at the edges. Those same hooves shuddered incessantly and their owner gave no sign of noticing. There was alcohol on her breath and, indeed, most of the house. Her eyes twitched and glazed over in inconsistent patterns.

She was barely capable of speaking without breaking down.

“Yes...I’ve admitted to what I was charged with...And I have...completed my sentence” she grinded her teeth, turning grey with rot.

“Not completely” Beside Raven Inkwell, Grand Duchess Bustle Bloomers looked over her spectacles at the Countess with untold disdain.

“According to the log and dates of the aforementioned punishment, you have precisely two months and six days more before your debt to society is paid in full”

The corners of the Countess’s lips twitched.

“Aren’t I eligible for good conduct time?” she asked.

“Not if the rumours are to be believed. Rumours concerning your late husband first and foremost”

“I assure you, I had nothing to do with his alleged treason”

Bustle Bloomers cleared her throat loudly.

“Confirmed treason” They could hear the Countess grinding her teeth “I was not involved. He acted completely without my knowledge. I was under house arrest, I couldn’t have gone with him”

“Where did he go?”

“Is this is an interrogation now?” the Countess snapped.

“If you like” Bustle Bloomers said flatly as she petted Horatio who was startled by the raised voices and had poked his head out her hoof-bag “Where did your husband go to make his plans and gather his resources”

The Countess was quite a moment.

“The Hanoverian” she answered, blinking several times in quick succession before rubbing her eyes “The club he frequented with Sir Cumbersome Clout. The two of them were close allies”

“Is there anypony who could confirm this?”

“I...I don’t know. I never went there. I told you I was here the whole time, I-I...I...”

“Yes, thank you Mrs Glass”

Mrs Glass. They’d called her Mrs Glass. Not Countess, not lady, nothing.

‘Just you wait, you sour old sack of pus!’ she screamed in her head ‘I’ll teach you respect when I have your precious nephew torn apart before you! Him and his freakish little pay-ride, Flower Lily or whatever her name is! I’ll have some very special stallions get to work on her! See what’s left of your family and its fine reputation then!’

“I promise you...I just want the chance to make things right. With my niece, with her friends, the Chairstallion”

“First Lord Minister now, Mrs Glass. Try not to forget, you sound so terribly old-fashioned when you do” Bustle Bloomers gave a smirk.

‘I’ll slice your limbs to pieces and use them to choke that mutt of yours!’

“Of course” she said humbly “Please...I am asking you, begging you to take my case to Celestia. At least a month, at least! I could not handle anymore. I need to be free again, to breathe in the air of Canterlot, to hear the voices and laughter of its ponies”

‘One more time, before they’re burned to ash’

Raven Inkwell was quiet.

The sight of the Countess made her feel ill in more than one way.

Yet there was no mistaking her. It was like all she had seen from Countess Magnifying Glass seven years ago left in some dark, damn, decrepit corner of the earth and made to whither and degrade.

She almost felt sorry for her.

Yet nothing could make up for what she had done. What she could have done.

“We will see how things stand” the secretary got to her hooves, glad to leave the stench of drunkenness and degradation that had gripped Invitro Hall.

“Good day, Mrs Glass”

*

‘Pinkie Pie

Bearer of the Element of Laughter

Female Earth Pony? Born and raised on a rock farm somewhere on Ponyville outskirts.

Ponyville Party Planner, Comedian, Musician, House-Warmer, Babysitter, Paraspite Deterrent, Etr, Etr.

Physical Strength- Unknown. Definitely high due to upbringing.

Magical Capacity- Unknown. Possible Affinity with Teleportation and Void-Space.

Speed- Very High.

Stamina- Extremely High.

Strategy- Unknown. Rapidly switches between randomness and calculation.

Fighting Experience- Unknown.

Weapons- Party Cannon (High Efficiency-See Folder), unknown limit or variety of ‘Emergency Equipment’ (Medium Efficiency),

Known Family Members- Igneous Rock (Father), Cloudy Quartz (Mother), Limestone, Marble and Maud (Important-Do Not Pursue) (Sisters), Gummy (Pet Alligator- Common Swamp),

Vulnerability- Unknown.

Best Course of Action: Undetermined’

*

The rumble of the elevators heralded the arrival of the SWAT team.

The desk officer gave the two mercenaries a determined look. None of them seemed the least bit unnerved.

He prepared to duck and cover for when the hail-fire started.

Ding.

It was unlike anything that could be safely put to word. The moment the lift doors opened, the room was suddenly awash with blood.

The grinning, chainsaw-wielding maniac stood surrounded by the butchered remains of the SWAT team, barely resembling even partially formed equines.

She gave a giggle and spoke in an unhinged, echoing tone.

“Come and play with us. Forever and ever and...”

“That’s enough of that, Gringore” Miura snapped.

“What? Haven’t any of you ever seen that film?” Gringore gave them a befuddled look and waved merrily to the desk officer.

“Hi there. You come here often?”

“Oh Lucretia...Oh Lucretia...Oh Lucretia” The desk officer was now, thoroughly, terrified “Wha...wha...what have you done?!”

“I think that’s fairly self-explanatory. Now would you please tell us what we need to know?” Miura said flatly.

“Okay...okay...just d-d-don’t hurt me” His courage was worn out entirely as, with shaking hooves, he set the monitor to work.

Out of the air ducts, a trail of grey cloth blew in and danced in circles around the room before settling upon a chair in a large bundle.
Hooves and a head appeared from the bundle as Lambasar produced detailed notes of where the Senator was and how many he had defending him, all written onto cloth.

“Sweet. I’m glad you’re on our side” Tybalt chuckled “Wait around...Oh, and watch where you step”

Lambasar’s casual smile turned into a look of mild concern and distaste as he saw the blood pooling around the room and the remains of the swat team in the open elevator

“Yeah...Whoo, somepony really ripped one in there! You know what I mean?” Gringore chortled, a crazed, yet somewhat expectant, look on her face as if waiting for applause.

“Shut up” Miura snapped “Let’s see that map”

Pouting, Gringore ambled over to the horrified desk officer.

“Okay, geez. Sorry for thinking farts are funny. So...how ya’ doin’?” she asked cheerfully “Never seen you before. Wow, you’re quick with your hooves. What’s your name?”

“I’d answer her if I were you” Tybalt whispered.

“Er...B-B-Banana Republic” he whimpered. Gringore blinked, took a step back and screwed her face up in awkwardness.

“Oh...I really wish you hadn’t said that” she mumbled.

“What...why?”

“Oh geez, turn your backs everypony” Tybalt groaned.

“Gringore, for the love of-” Miura snapped.

“What? Why? What’s going on? What’s happe...” Banana Republic’s frantic questions stopped abruptly as he took notice of the activated chainsaw descending upon his forehead.

As the cacophony of bloodcurdling screams, maniacal laughter and thunderous buzzing filled the room, Tybalt, Miura and Lambasar turned their backs to the atrocity and stood about for a good minute, their faces tired and unimpressed.

Lambasar gave Tybalt a look that he didn’t need a tongue to say ‘Does this happen a lot?’

Tybalt nodded.

All three of the ungodly noises subsided at once as the three turned round to gaze upon Gringore’s antics, the chainsaw-wielder standing with a cheeky smile.

“Looks like Banana Republic had to SPLIT!...Geddit?!”

Miura facehoofed.

“We - needed - him - alive - you - dolt” she said in monotone.

“S’okay toots, we can just ask the big pony himself. It’s what we’re here for” Gringore gestured to the ceiling “I got plenty of card jokes! I wonder if I can find a poker somewhere”

“I think Lambasar’s got that covered” Tybalt nodded to the mysterious Haissanic who rolled down his sleeves and spun in a circle, his grey cloth unravelling and covering him in a billowing curtain. Before long, the unicorn was gone and the cloth had disappeared back up the air duct”

“Aeromancy” Miura said “A celebrated art in Haissan and places like it. Flying carpets and such”

“Squadilah!” Gringore cried in a bizarre impression “We are off!”

“Shut! Up!”

Miura would definitely be asking Cascadius never to pair her with Gringore after this.

*

‘Twilight Sparkle

Bearer of the Element of Magic (Friendship)

Female Alicorn. Born and raised in Canterlot. Ascended after successful reversal of an Elemental Reshuffle (See Folder).

Unofficial Princess of Ponyville and Magical Mentor.

Physical Strength- Low

Magical Capacity- Very High.

Speed- High.

Stamina- High.

Strategy- Extremely High.

Fighting Experience- Extremely High.

Weapons- Alicorn Power harnessing control and command of magic itself (Very High Efficiency).

Known Family Members- Night Light (Father), Velvet (Mother), Shining Armour (Elder Brother), Princess Mi Amore Cadenza (Sister-In-Law), Princess Flurry Heart (Niece), Spike (Adopted Son and Assistant), Owloysius (Pet Owl- Great Horned),

Vulnerability- Very High. Loved ones mean everything to her.

Best Course of Action: Cruciamite will not be effective enough. Secret Weapon (See Folder) may prove very useful when ready’

Cascadius leaned back in his chair.

There wasn’t a single one of the Elements who he could know entirely. None of them were entirely predictable. When pushed, they would adapt and learn. It was how they had overcome every challenge they’d ever faced.

In truth, he wasn’t certain if any of the information he’d gathered would suffice or if it would even be useful.

Of all his battles, this was the one that would really push his limits.

He closed his eyes, the memories of long past and longer still visiting his mind over and over as he tried to focus.

One way or another, this would be the battle that made his name a legend.

The legend he had waited for all his life.

He had come too far for anything else.

Victory was the only acceptable outcome.

He gave the Bearers of the Elements one last look. None of them were warriors or even close descendents of warriors.

Yet they could prove more dangerous than any foe before them.

Perhaps even more dangerous than him.

‘No...’ he thought ‘Mustn’t forget about him’

Comments

[Bronycommander]

Royal Flush? Sounds like the pony version of Donald Trump

Let's make Equestria great again! not

Brandenbird Gate=pony version of Brandenburger gate

Well, Dinky, you warm my heart and have fun with your friends!

[Purple Patch]

7833743 I try not to mention his name. To me he is 'The Electoral Candidate that must not be named.
Let's just say I'm not a fan.
And at this point, neither is anypony else.
In any case, I took inspiration from your stories for the Griffonia Doctor Who story. Thanks for that.
And yes, Dinky is adorable.

[Bronycommander]

7834501 I'm not a fan either. You welcome for the inspiration.

Almost forgot, thanks for the fave for Welcome to the new order. I don't know how far you read it but I looking forward your comment

[Purple Patch]

7834588 Thanks. I'm quite enjoying it.

[Bronycommander]

7834596 Glad to hear it I looking forward your comments

[Spiritus Arcane]

Just a few things about those profiles. According to canon, Zephyr is actually Fluttershy's YOUNGER brother, and Maud is a sister, not a cousin, and while we're not sure who's the oldest, we do know that Pinkie and Marble are the youngest, and twins.

Also, I'd contest Twilight's fighting experience being anywhere near 'high'. She's never shown much beyond basic blasting, dodging (usually via teleport) and blocking (with barriers). Personally, I think the fact that Starlight was able to consistently draw and/or beat her in their fights during the season 5 finale shows that she is WOEFULLY under-experienced when it comes to combat, physical or magical.

Still, your fic and headcanons...

[Purple Patch]

8093981 Fair enough.
Still, it's sort of Cascadius's way to assume, since Twilight's an alicorn, her potential, at least, for fighting would be high.
He has...experience in that regard as you'll soon find out.

[Purple Patch]

8093981 Made some edits.
So what do you think of the Mercenaries?