G6.3850: Ceres Proclamation
Olivia flexed her limbs one at a time, feeling the slight sluggishness of the exoskeleton. As she planned this mission, Olivia had started out in despair, fearing that she would have to go into danger with no more protection than her skin.
But then she’d found this design in the computer, as though the hands of God had put it there. It had taken the Forerunner pointing it out for her to even see it—all this time she’d been waiting for military hardware, and it had been sitting in the system. All she had to do was switch from “active-duty military” to “civilian police,” and ask the Forerunner to make some modifications to the design…
The Cyclops had a large cargo area, large enough to carry a small underwater observation post and deposit it wherever it was necessary. The space was cramped—Olivia had ordered it packed with emergency supplies, in case Othar was attacked while they were gone. It had slowed their trip, but that didn’t matter. It was better to get there a little slower than to die of starvation at the bottom of the ocean.
She lifted one of her forelegs—at a thought, the end of the armor unfolded like a flower, revealing the claws a few members of her team had started wearing on a daily basis, though the articulation was better. She twisted around suddenly, reaching back to the long rifle attached there. It swung free as it had so many times before, and her other hand caught it. The sensation wasn’t quite what she remembered—though she could vaguely feel the phantom fingers, she could also distinctly sense the padding wrapped around all four of her hooves. She could feel her wings against her back, and the brace against her spine.
Olivia rolled forward, and the motion came as smoothly to her as it ever had. She rose up onto one knee, aiming the rifle forward. The “Longshoreman,” as it was called, was practically artillery. There were horror stories of its recoil ripping off a person’s arm. Probably just stories. Her enhanced human body could’ve fired it, though with great difficulty. Wearing the armor, she could shoot it with ease.
Of course, she didn’t fire. It would puncture the armored Cyclops plating like it wasn’t even there. Even now that they were on the surface floating at dock, she didn’t think it would be a terribly good idea to sink the sub. She stood up, replacing the gun on her back. “It will suffice. Attach the armor plates.” There were several different variations of this suit available. Olivia had chosen the sturdiest, the one that was so strong it had to be welded.
Half a dozen industrial drones emerged from the cargo area all around her, as though they’d been lurking just out of sight the entire time. Likely they had, though Olivia didn’t much want to think about it. How many thousands of robots made Othar possible? How dismal did their odds get without the Forerunner?
The industrial robots had treads instead of human legs, with a skeletal upper body and only the necessary supports to work their tools. All of the complicated components were down in the drive section. These carried thin sheets of metal, along with power tools in their three-fingered grippers.
“I haven’t seen this drone before,” Olivia said, straightening as they approached.
They didn’t have heads, yet there were apparently speakers in the treads, because the Forerunner’s voice came from them all. “You haven’t spent time on a submarine before. These drones can operate at depths exceeding two thousand meters.” They surrounded her. “Once the armor is applied, only the helmet can be removed without tools.”
“It won’t run out of power in a day, will it?”
“Negative,” the Forerunner said. “Its fuel cells will operate for sixty hours before refueling.”
“Then let’s do this. They’re waiting for us.”
“Only one of the teams is waiting. James Irwin Generation 4’s group is already gone,” the Forerunner answered, even as its drones all moved in. They began to build the rest of the armor around her, working as swiftly as the same number of human experts might. The machinery running her exoskeleton was smaller and more compact than anything Olivia had ever seen—somehow, the engineers had managed to pack it all in around the supports itself, and the Forerunner had managed to give her an extra hydrogen tank.
“I meant the dealer. I know his type—if we’re even a few minutes late, he’ll get suspicious. As if the whole thing wasn’t suspicious enough. What kind of world is it where criminals make deals with talking birds?”
“This one,” the Forerunner answered matter-of-factly. At that moment, its drones all rolled back, then off in a line. Olivia walked a few steps to the left, so she could look at her reflection on the polished surface of a bulkhead. “Good work, Forerunner. I didn’t know you were such a capable engineer.”
Another drone was already approaching, carrying a large plastic crate. “I am capable at all tasks required for the success of my mission,” it said. It stopped in front of her, opening itself to reveal her clothes. Robes in bright, striped colors, not exactly a copy of any within the city, but based on a similar palette. She hadn’t had anyone’s help selecting the design besides the Forerunner.
She tossed the robe on over her shoulders, covering the armor. The helmet came next, sliding into place with a slight twitch of her neck. It closed over her face, then the obstruction seemed to vanish from in front of her. It was as though the entire interior surface was a screen, projecting the exterior so well that she could only tell by touch that she was wearing a helmet at all. “Damn.” She looked around, twisting quickly to test the projection. There was a slight blur, almost imperceptible. “The ISMU was holding out on me. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“The design did not exist at the time your imprint was taken,” the drone said, its voice flat and patient. “Innovation continued up until the moment I was launched. Innovation continued afterwards as well.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess that makes sense.” Olivia pulled a pair of thick gloves out from the inside of the box—they would make her fingers not look so much like metal claws. Last came a mask—wooden and brightly painted, and covered with feathers. Real feathers, donated by herself and other crew members. “Excellent work,” she said again, slinging it under one arm.
“All my work is excellent,” the Forerunner said. “Do yours. Bring back the samples we need.”
“You know I will.”
She didn’t put the mask on until she had made her way up to the upper deck—where a vinyl shell made the top of the Cyclops look convincingly like a sloop. There were even sails, and whole sections of the deck. None of them were strong enough to be walked on, except for the area leading “below decks.”
This had been Specialist Noah Williams’s idea, though like everything, the Forerunner had built it. And built it well.
Olivia slipped the mask on as she stepped out into the sunlight, and suddenly her vision was restricted to a thin slit. But not twice. This could be a lot worse.
She had hoped the other group would’ve already left. Just three of them, as it turned out. Dorothy had apparently gone with Melody and Deadlight, which left Lucky, Dust, and Martin for the second group.
Lei, Noah, and Stepan were nowhere to be seen—they’d be staying on the sub, just in case something went wrong. Ready to mobilize and get the civilians out at the first sign of trouble.
Lieutenant Perez and Sergeant Abubakar were waiting, wearing their own thick robes and painted masks just like Olivia’s. They had chosen lightweight armor, made of more traditional weaves and without the strength-assist. The stallions looked bulky in their own way, carrying as much as they were under those robes. But compared to her, they were tiny.
“The Forerunner is damn fast. That looks exactly like what the minotaur tribes wear,” Lucky muttered, rising from where she’d been resting in the shade beside the others. Apparently, she’d been the one who told them to wait, because Dust and Martin rose to their hooves as well. “How are you not falling over in all that?”
Less than twenty meters away was the dock, positively packed with ships. There were voices too, voices shouting enthusiastically in languages she’d never heard before. Too bad I’m here for work, not play.
She couldn’t say anything that might be overheard. She certainly wasn’t going to admit that the Forerunner had well over a week to make the outfit, instead of only one night. “I practiced,” she said, though that was a lie. Olivia had worn exoskeletons before plenty of times, but not this design. “I’ll show you when this is over if you want. It’s not as hard as it looks.”
“You guys aren’t going to buy old clothes and blankets, are you?” Lucky asked, looking them up and down.
Olivia turned to glare at Lucky through her armor. Of course, she probably didn’t seem terribly intimidating to the other pony—life in Equestria had made Lucky somewhat more difficult to manipulate than others. “It would be a waste of resources. Consider it a reflection of my confidence in you and the other science team.”
As she had expected, Lucky didn’t look away. “So what are you doing, then?”
Perez laughed loudly from behind his mask. “We have the same mission you do,” he said, in English instead of Eoch. Which, of course, he didn’t know. None of the ISMU had really learned much of it, except for Lei. “Look after Othar. We do it in our way, you do it in yours.”
“Don’t ruin this for us,” Martin said, a little braver than Olivia had ever heard her. They were wearing robes too—plain white ones, mostly to keep out the sand and wind. Martin even had a push cart, which was heavy with trade goods for their half of the mission. The basically useless half.
But only Dorothy knew that, and she hadn’t said anything about it. At least one of my scientists is smart enough to play ball. “We will be back by nightfall, same as you,” Olivia said, her voice reproduced in Eoch over the speakers in her helmet. It downshifted her voice so that it was lower than any of the members of the crew—even the stallions. Hopefully it would be as intimidating as her body.
“That’s creepy,” Lightning Dust whispered, looking away. “I don’t want to know what kind of magic that is.”
“You better be,” Lucky said, still watching with suspicion. “I like it in there, I want to come back someday. Don’t ruin it for us by hurting people.”
“We don’t have to interrogate her. I’m sure your mayor knows what she’s doing.” The adult mare rested a hoof on Lucky’s shoulder. “Lucky, are you ready? Star Lilly? There’s an aerial demonstration at noon, and I don’t want to miss it!”
“Yeah!” The physicist answered first. “I hope someone in there is selling telescopes. Or star maps. Maybe both?”
“We might,” Lucky said, sounding reluctant. “There were lots of ponies selling things.”
“Just remember your mission.” Olivia watched as they trudged along across the deck, then vanished into the thick crowds flowing in and out of Dragon’s Folly.
“Coms check,” Olivia said into her helmet, as soon as the other group was gone. “We good?”
“Loud and clear,” Perez answered from within his mask—though neither of them would be able to speak without making their actions a little visible to those all around. At least this setup would let her talk to them without giving anything away.
“I hear you,” Abubakar said, his voice distant. “I hope we don’t kill anyone. If the ones in this city are anything like the one who is called Deadlight…” He shook his head. “It will be like killing children.”
“It’s just a trade,” she said, though her tone suggested just how much she trusted that would really be the case. “No one should get hurt. Well… except for a little blood. But it’s either that, or no humans on this ring.”
“As much as I like lying around all day, I’m glad we’re finally getting out there,” Perez said. “Meeting is in ten minutes. We can’t exactly fly there like the drone.”
Well, they could have flown there, or they could if they were a little more practiced at their pony abilities. Olivia was pretty sure she could’ve done it, though the structure of Dragon’s Folly with its black basalt and jutting spires would not be kind to mistakes. And anyway, that would have meant trading armor for flight, not an exchange even Olivia was comfortable making. Perez wasn’t a very good flyer, and Abubakar had completely refused to go to Dust’s classes, so it was a moot point.
“Let’s go then. Don’t say anything to anyone unless you have to.”
They hurried from the ship. The crowd appeared to be more than half pony, though that still left half of… all kinds of creatures. Griffons seemed the most numerous group, standing larger than ponies but not than her in armor. There were bipeds, most notably the minotaurs. A few stood on the docks—apparently, they weren’t a species very fond of boats. There were other creatures as well—lizards, deer, thick-bodied yaks, and other beings she had no names for.
At the end of the dock they passed through a massive stone arch into the city, with an uneven bit of melted stone to one side. Words had been chiseled above the gate, but of course none of them could read what they said. She wondered if the translator could. The city itself had thin streets—just wide enough for carts, and barely even that in many places. Most were just dirt, with occasional patches of droppings and worse to avoid stepping in. Well, her soldiers would have to avoid it. Olivia’s suit didn’t care what it stepped in.
Once into the city, she found that most creatures got out of her way—even concealed within the robes, her bulk spoke for itself. Maybe some of these ponies could recognize the steps of those who did not wish to be interrupted. A few brave merchants lurking in the gloom tried to call them over, but Olivia ignored these. Her helmet overlaid the map their drone had made, with a bright red line showing her where to go.
Of course, she didn’t really need the map to find their destination. They were looking for the dark corners, tucked away in the section of the city that had been carved from the rock eons ago. It was there they would be meeting Salvadore to make their exchange. It’s okay for us. We’re not buying slaves. Just a little blood, and we’ll have all the samples we need. Then the Forerunner will never have to make another pony again. She didn’t want to think about what that might imply for the army she was growing.
They met Salvadore exactly on time, in exactly the right place. He bowed politely to them as they stepped into the low-ceilinged room, past a handful of brutes with rusty weapons.
“The ponies from afar,” he called, his voice like a sickly-sweet perfume. “Which one of you is the necromancer called Wayfinder?”
“How the hell did he know we were ponies?” Perez asked quietly over the radio. “Is my tail poking out? Did I leave something unzipped?”
Olivia ignored him, stepping slightly forward. She chose to ask the second question. “Necromancer” did not sound like it had translated correctly. “What makes you say I am a necromancer?”
Salvadore smiled at her, with an expression like surprise at her naivete. “You asked for blood from a live pony. There is only one sort of client with needs like that. But please, don’t feel as though you aren’t welcome in Dragon’s Folly. Salvadore appreciates all clients.” He turned, gesturing to a locked door at the far end of the room. At his motion, one of the brutes rushed over to open it for them. “Please, come. Your merchandise is waiting.”
The lair—Olivia couldn’t think of any other word for it—looked about what she expected. The tunnels had been carved from the solid rock with hand tools, judging by the uneven ceilings and floors. The ventilation was bad, even through her helmet.
Their guide took them down a twisting track that was probably meant to confuse them, because the map the Forerunner was building suggested it overlapped several times, with a single common corridor that would’ve been passable if the crowd of people there would’ve gotten out of the way.
There weren’t very many ponies down here at all. Some quadrupeds, though most of those looked more like birds than horses. Their guide was one of these, though his guards were bipeds. Minotaurs, from the look of it. More Greek shit. If she’d brought Martin, she probably would’ve ranted about common culture and what this meant about the origin of the ring.
“This isn’t good,” Perez whispered to her over the suit-radio. “There’s no reason to take us this deep if they were just going to give us the stuff and let us out.”
“I knew I was going to have to kill today,” Abubakar muttered, dejected. “It is good God is merciful. We will not be.”
“No, we won’t,” Olivia agreed. Outwardly, she made no sign she had realized anything was different, just kept following through the dark. The gloom was nothing to the night vision in her helmet, which showed her the interior was dirty in places with slime and probably worse things. She caught sight of a few bones in the dark—impossible for her to identify, though obviously not human.
Then they reached their destination—a thick steel door, cankered with rust on massive metal hinges. “You don’t know how much it costs to keep earth ponies underground,” Salvadore said. “You necromancers have expensive taste.” He snapped his claws together, and one of the guards following beside him removed a keyring and started fiddling with the lock.
Before the door was even open, a servant arrived—another bird-thing, with a white wrap around her head. She was carrying a large basin and a long, wickedly-sharp knife. Salvadore pointed, and she deposited both on the floor in front of them.
“Last time we dealt with necromancers, they wanted to extract the product themselves. We were prepared this time.”
Olivia shivered as she looked down—there were nicks and scratches on the blade, and dried blood staining the wooden basin. “You are very considerate,” she said. “I knew we had chosen well.”
“Indeed you did,” he answered, as the door clicked. The minotaur shoved and it ground forward—nearly eight inches thick.
Inside were four ponies, hobbled by their hooves and chained to the wall. All four were blindfolded, and their bodies were covered with scars. It was just like they had ordered—two of each tribe, one male and one female.
“God forgive them,” Abubakar said, loud enough that it would probably be audible through the helmet. “They’re like those monsters in the Belt. How long have these people been tortured?”
At least he hadn’t translated it. Olivia straightened. “They are ours to do with as we please,” she repeated, bending down and picking up the knife. “Whatever we wish?”
Salvadore cleared his throat, extending one claw. “Once you give me the gold, yes. You do whatever you want.”
Olivia reached into her robes, withdrawing a heavy sack of dark cloth, and tossing it to him. “There. Half a kilo per head, as we agreed.”
Salvadore opened the sack, removing one of the gold slivers and bending it in his beak. He snapped his claws again, and one of the guards dropped a rusty iron key on the ground in front of her. “There you are. We provide, uh… a cleanup service, when you are finished. Free of charge.” His guards stepped away from the door, backing up against the wall and looking bored.
Olivia dropped the knife, which fell straight down and stuck to the bottom of the basin. Then she picked up the key and threw it to Abubakar. “Go on,” she said through the helmet, before switching to a private channel. “Get them ready to move. When this shit goes down, we’re not leaving them behind.”
“Yes ma’am.” He walked into the cell, removing his robe as he went. The medical gear was all there, attached to the armor underneath, but Olivia didn’t stop to watch. She sat back on her haunches, pushing the basin away with a little revulsion. “Do you trade in slaves often?” she asked, noticing that Salvadore still had his eyes on her.
He shrugged. “The Horde is all about magical creatures, young pony. The more magical the creature, the more valuable. We don’t use the word slave, though. No slaves allowed in Dragon’s Folly. We’re just trading pets. Occasionally there is an accident, and we lose the merchandise in shipping. Tragedy, I know.”
Olivia glanced over her shoulder into the cell. Abubakar had already got one of the ponies unchained, and was holding a syringe over her neck. The chilled medical cooler sat open on the ground in front of him, breathing out icy vapor into a low fog on the floor. He already had one of the samples, from the look of it, though Olivia couldn’t tell for sure. She didn’t want to take her eyes from Salvadore.
“It is amazing how many uses for ponies there are out here, did you know? The magic of your species is highly prized. Very high prices are asked for it.”
“Is that so?” Olivia spoke flatly, even more than the automatic translation did on its own. “Fascinating.”
“There are four more approaching from either end of the hall,” the Forerunner said in her ear. “I detect more movement throughout the complex. Were you expecting this?”
“Yes,” she said, though obviously there had been nothing in the deal they made that involved her inviting being double-crossed.
“In fact,” Salvadore said, as though she hadn’t realized it already. “We’re going to need the two of you to join your friend in the cell there. Right now.” At his word, the guards on either side of him lifted their clubs, looking eager. No doubt they’d been waiting for this moment. “Oh, and I wouldn’t bother thinking you can magic your way out of this…” Salvadore reached into his pocket, lifting up something made of deep red metal. It looked a little like clockwork, though Olivia couldn’t identify what it might do. “You’re so dependent on your powers. Take them away, and it’s like…” He twisted something with his claw.
The fist-sized object began to glow deep purple, tracing lines of light to herself and the other members of her crew. It ignored the griffon and his minotaur guards, as well as the other guards coming from down the hall. None of them were ponies.
Olivia felt it immediately—a sudden emptiness deep in her chest. She felt heavier in the armor, as though an invisible weight was pushing her to the floor. Inside the cell, the pony they’d untied promptly collapsed, making a pitiful squeak of pain as she did so. The others all fell limp in their chains.
Perez moved, though not to fall over, or do anything else helpless. He stepped sideways, removing the robe from over his head, and twisting the mask around to the other side. He’d painted a skull on it, like something out of a Dia de los Muertos parade. A human skull, not a pony, and was that toothpaste he’d painted with? “Dios Mio,” he said through the helmet, though of course Salvadore wouldn’t be able to understand. “You people could’ve been smart. In and out, simple as that.”
“You want me, commander?”
“No, Abubakar. Keep working. Get those samples and get ready to move.”
“There’s only sixteen of them out here,” Perez said, more amused than upset. “We wouldn’t want to be unfair.”
Salvadore’s eyes widened the longer they remained standing, apparently unaffected by his device. “I took your magic away!”
“Yes, you did,” Olivia said, twisting all the way around to face Salvadore and his guards. “Now that you can see it hasn’t done anything, care to reconsider? You can still take the deal, Salvadore. I’ve decided we don’t need your cleanup service—we’ll be taking the ponies with us. And you’ll be getting out of our way.” She reached up, pulling off the mask covering her helmet. Then she twitched, and the helmet retracted from around her face. The smell hit her at once, harder than the “anti-magic” machine he was holding. Blood, and death, and feces, and so much worse.
“One chance,” she said, in Eoch. “Or we’ll kill everyone who gets between us and the exit.” The hallways were thick on both sides by this point—over a dozen guards, most of which wore crude metal armor.
“You are three ponies without magic!” Salvadore shouted. “You’re merchandise. Get them!”
“I knew this would happen,” Abubakar said from within the cell, though his voice still only sounded a little disappointed. “Their type is all the same. It’s just like the Belt.”
“And you know what we did in the Belt,” Perez said, almost laughing now. “Don’t you?”
“Don’t kill Salvadore,” Olivia said, drawing her sidearm. “I want him for a hostage.” She was already lifting her weapon towards the first guard, her helmet closing again over her face. As it did, she began to see false color overlaid on some of the targets—those Perez had selected for himself, as well as those the Forerunner rated as more of a threat. Both of his minotaurs were running straight for her. She lifted her handgun calmly and fired a single anti-personnel round into each of their heads. She had to jump slightly to one side to avoid their corpses, and that motion came sluggish—Salvadore’s device again, robbing her of some of her speed.
The gunshots had left bloody smears all over the back wall, and bits of brain stuck to the stone there.
It took less than sixty seconds. The ISMU were trained for the tight conditions of space, fighting criminals exactly like this. Soon the hallway was packed with the dead. No Salvadore, though. Olivia straightened, wiping blood away from her visor and searching for the griffon—and couldn’t find him. No doubt running away would’ve marked him as the lowest priority target—at least he’d dropped his machine.
Olivia walked forward and gently twisted it, deactivating the effect. It was like taking a deep breath after swimming a long distance underwater—all the life came flooding back into her. But for as painful as her time without magic had been, she’d never felt crippled. It was cold, it was miserable, but it hadn’t been what Salvadore promised. She tossed it to Perez anyway. He caught it in one mechanical claw. “Ah, this is good. Maybe better than the blood, if we can reverse-engineer it.”
“Maybe.” Her eyes narrowed. “You had time to make a death mask, really?”
He shrugged, apparently unmoved by the corpses all around them. “I felt like a kid again. Forerunner made me a paint set, but it’s waiting back in Othar. I’ll make a good one when we get back. And sugar skulls… if I can somehow make them work with hooves, you have to try one.”
There was sound coming from somewhere far away in the burrow—shouting, and running hoofsteps. Towards them, based on the fact it was getting louder.
“Forgive me,” Abubakar said, only slightly annoyed. “I have the samples collected and our confused civvies untied. They don’t speak Eoch, or maybe they’re in shock too much to say anything.”
“Alright.” Olivia ejected her spent magazine, sliding a fresh one into place. “Perez, Abubakar, get them out. I’ll slow them down until you’re through. Get those civilians to safety, and don’t let anyone follow you back to the sub. Call Forerunner for evac if you have to.”
“And you?” Abubakar asked, his tone almost reproachful. “Is the major not done killing?”
“Probably not,” she admitted. There were hooves pounding down the hallway all right—by the sound of it, a whole army of them. “It really is like murdering children. They probably don’t have anything that can get through the armor.”
“Just don’t let them pin you.” Perez removed his helmet, joining Abubakar in shepherding the terrified ponies out. All four of them looked like they could barely walk—and seeing the room full of death didn’t help them. One of the mares just collapsed as soon as she saw the first body, and Perez had to toss her onto his back.
“Return soon, God willing,” Abubakar said, rifle at the ready as he ushered the ponies along ahead of him. They ignored the twists and turns and cut straight back the way the Forerunner had mapped for them.
Salvadore had reinforcements coming. She could hear his voice in the distance, screaming that a demon was loose in the lair and they needed to catch it before “the Nightmare got here.” Whatever that meant.
“This is stupid,” Olivia muttered into her headset. “How can they see this and keep running at me?”
“Organics rarely act rationally,” the Forerunner said, almost maternally. “Maybe they want vengeance for their comrades. Maybe they haven’t realized how much danger they’re in.”
“I don’t have time for this.” Olivia took aim down the length of her foreleg, right into the thickest mass of the enemy. There had to be almost fifty of them—not just soldiers this time, but many others. Like they’d grabbed whatever weapons happened to be within reach and had come running. Some of them were naked. “Why couldn’t you just let us leave?”
She fired her single grenade down the passage, and her whole body rocked back a second as it went flying off. It didn’t hit any of them—there was enough space between the charging thugs that it could pass between with ease. Olivia, meanwhile, flung herself into the old cell. Not very far, just around the corner.
There was a flash of light, and an explosion. The ground shook, and they screamed. She tried not to hear, but of course the helmet didn’t block out very much. She stepped back out again, and found several more bodies on the floor. In close quarters, almost every bit of shrapnel had bounced around until it found a soft target—there were over a dozen of them on the ground. Very few looked dead, though from the sounds they made they probably wished they were.
Now they were fleeing, almost all of them. Salvadore himself advanced through the wreckage, ignoring the pained screams of his men as they lost their blood and guts onto the stone. And walking beside him was a dragon.
Large enough that he could barely stand on two legs in the tunnel, his scales glittering black and lengths of sharpened metal along his wings, and on his hands. He had no armor otherwise, no weapons. He also didn’t seem to have been harmed by the grenade, though whether that was a question of distance or the power of his scales Olivia couldn’t say.
“We’re leaving,” Olivia called, stepping out from around the cell. “Can’t you tell this isn’t a fight you can win? I’m using a fucking handgun here. You don’t turn around right now, and I won’t let you run. Get some help for your men—move aside.”
“No, you aren’t,” Salvadore said. His voice had gone cold—almost as cold as hers. “The Nightmare is almost here. Do you know what they will do to me after calling them here, if I don’t have what they asked for? I don’t know what you did in Equestria to make them willing to pay so many bits for your return… but you can’t leave. They’d kill me when they got here.”
“I can’t kill her?” The dragon sounded disappointed.
“No, you can kill her,” Salvadore said. “They didn’t specify if she had to be alive. You can capture some of the others, not this one.”
“Good.” The dragon stepped forward, over the dying and the maimed. He raised both claws. “I haven’t had a challenge in so many years, pony. If you can do all this, maybe that is you.”
“I haven’t either,” Olivia said, taking aim at his chest. “Sorry I have to do this.” She fired. The dragon jerked back a little, yelping as the bullets hit, and clutching at his chest. Yet she saw no blood, not even a cracked scale. A few moments later and he dropped to four limbs, roaring with anger, and charging forward towards her.
“It appears the stories about dragons and their scales are well-founded,” the Forerunner said, as though it were commenting on a mildly interesting fact.
Olivia lowered the gun, springing to one side to get out of the way of the charge. This was good, since a curtain of bright red flames came blasting into the space where she’d been. Still close enough that her robe instantly caught fire, and she had to tear it free as she went.
The dragon corrected, his claws digging huge gouges in the stone as he did so. He rolled slightly, then lunged for her with jaws open. She could see more flames even as he did—but she didn’t stay still. She rolled under the dragon as he jumped, slamming herself (and him) into the stone wall of the cavern.
She dropped her gun as she tried to right herself. The dragon was as fast as an augmented human in armor, maybe faster than she was. It was all she could do to be out of its way when it came at her with claws slashing.
She struggled to draw her stun-pistol, but couldn’t get it up in time before the dragon connected with her, its mass enough to send her sliding backward along the floor. Claws dug into the armor, and alarms started wailing in her ear. She felt white-hot pain in one of her legs, then saw the flash as fire came blasting down on her again.
Her eyes filled with light, alarms blared in her ears, and her already pained leg felt like someone had jammed it into an oven. The armor could take a little heat, but much more of that would melt the circuits underneath, before barbecuing her as well.
Olivia smashed her head upward into the dragon’s open mouth with all the force of augmented muscle and skeleton. She felt something crack under the weight, felt the dragon’s body tense abruptly on her—then it fell slack. Limp lizard fell to the ground around her, spewing a few last feeble tongues of fire before falling still, jaw broken all the way open.
Olivia dropped to one knee, panting heavily, and trying to get the helmet to come off. It made pained sounds of metallic protest. Eventually the helmet retracted from around her face, and Olivia wasn’t sure she had any hope of putting it back into place again.
Salvadore had started running. He had a little bit of a limp—maybe he’d taken some damage from the grenade after all. Whatever the case, Olivia didn’t plan on letting him get away. She picked up her handgun from where she’d dropped it, and fired a few times down the hall. Her first few shots missed, but apparently her forth found its target, because Salvadore dropped to the ground, screaming and swearing as he fell.
Olivia returned the handgun to its clip as she walked, no longer concerned with secrecy. Her robe was still on the ground, still on fire. It hardly mattered. As she closed on Salvadore, she could hear his mad cries, apparently pleas in Eoch.
“You can’t kill me,” he was saying, or something like it. “You’re a pony. Ponies aren’t like this. You can’t do this!” He was bleeding from wounds on one of his back-legs, but he seemed otherwise unhurt.
“You’re an idiot,” she replied, not caring that the helmet’s synthetic voice would in no way cover her own, now that it had been destroyed. “You brought us a knife like we were going to kill a helpless victim in cold blood, and you think I can’t kill you?”
No sooner had she reached him than Salvadore’s talon snapped up towards her, claws sharp and glittering. Olivia let his claw catch on the intact armor of her left leg, before jerking violently to one side and bringing her other foreleg down on the bone with all the engineered-strength in her body. The bone snapped, and Salvadore screamed again, agony that brought no pity from Olivia.
“Try that again, I’ll break your fingers. All of them.” Olivia stepped back, out of his reach. “I’ve seen shitstains like you before. Out in the Belt, where there are still slavers. People who think just because the UN is a few years away that we aren’t going to catch up to them eventually. Well, we do.”
“You really are a demon,” he wailed, or at least that was what the Forerunner thought he was trying to say. “When the Nightmare comes, they’ll banish you straight to Tartarus, where you belong!”
“Who is this ‘Nightmare’?” Olivia asked, her voice even. “More mercenaries?”
He laughed, spitting up blood on the ground in front of her. “More monsters like you. Equestrian monsters—magic, demons… ones who fight, ones who are… so hard to tell. Work for the moon, they say. Never trust the moon, they say. She’s always changing.”
Equestrian monsters. Olivia doubted very much they would arrive in time to make a difference—even a jumper would take an hour to get this far south from the Equestrian core, and ponies didn’t have that. Even their best fliers would take at least a day. But we planned this deal a week ago.
“When will they be here?” she asked. “The Equestrians?”
“Now!” He laughed again, coughing and hacking. “They’re probably already here! Following your magic, pony! You can’t hide it from them!”
“There are hundreds of ponies in this city,” Olivia countered. “I’ve got nothing to make me stand out from all of them.”
He laughed again, his voice strained well into madness by now. “Keep praying that, little bird! Nightmare always comes for you, no matter how far you run. Sees you when you’re sleeping, knows when you’re awake!”
Olivia sighed, drawing her sidearm again. She was out of time. “By the authority of the United Nations of Earth, I find you in violation of the Ceres Proclamation. The penalty for slaving is death. I, Major Olivia Fischer, execute that punishment under the authority of the Interplanetary Justice Commission. May God have mercy on your soul.”
“You can’t—”
She fired two shots into his face. She didn’t miss this time.
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8571451
OH GOSH!
I was just trying to be funny and give my support. i didn't actually expect you to respond or to post the new chapter!
thank you.
Wow, Olivia did good.
nightmare = santa confirmed?
Well done! damn! Finally the power of humanity is revealed. it'll be interesting to see how everyone reacts and if Luna is coming or her soldiers.
Dammit star how did you know I was having trouble sleeping it’s 4 in the morning here
So they are invaders. Olivia is acting under UN authority and apparently believes UN authority extends to wherever she stands. Maybe it would... if there was still a UN. I guess she’s a UN officer of the Interplanetary Justice Commission so as long as she’s alive so is the UN... even if its a UN of just the Otharians?
That was intense! Olivia's really in her element here. This little stunt is probably going to come back to bite them in the ass, though.
That's just a couple of shades away from being an actual command.
Another day, another step closer to becoming GLaDOS.
Ponies are Stronk.
god damn that was awesome
Alien abduction. In reality, aliens would just send mosquito drones to extract some blood rather than making a grand appearance and firing up the anal probes.
Dddaaaammmmnnnnnn!!!!!! I love it!
So... both Othar and Equestria do deals with slavers. Peachy.
war were declared.
8571505
from the sounds of it, they have a massive bounty on their collective heads so Equestria might just come a calling
Nightmare sounds more like the Elements of Harmony than anything, possibly run under the control of Luna? I wonder if they'll zap Olivia and "reform" her...
If they do catch Olivia, they're going to find that underneath the dyes, she's identical to Lucky (except for her cutie mark, which Flurry already knows changed once before). Celestia would presumably think she caught the pony who brought Flurry to the underground base!
It's interesting the way Salvadore talks about ponies not being able to do this, or talks about "Nightmare" as Equestrian monsters. Is there something in the Harmony system that prevents them from doing things like this, other than the ponies selected by Harmony to carry out its wishes? Seems increasingly likely.
...I got a bad feeling about this...
Olivia, I think you have overreached yourself. Prepare for consequences. Unpleasant consequences. I feel that's the truth.
8571498
Some things are better done in pony. Anal probes are one of those things. Plus Olivia needed to work off some frustration.
Conundrum...
Do I praise the author for this extended story - with each chapter adding more unexpected goodness ?
Or do I silently scream at knowing it will be another week (or more) of excellent world building before the conversation between Lucky and Twilight ?
The Forerunner is really sassing it up lately. I love it!
Yowza, well that was thrilling. And I notice Pathfinder is getting a lit more personable. Also a little cocky. It's actually starting to remind me of Discord a little. GASP
Discord is actually a much more advanced version of this Pathfinder and was somehow time displaced. Mystery solved!
Olivia, you know you are probably on the other side of the galaxy?
8571571
Yes.
Thanks for the device , Olivia can hide her and other members magic when they retreat to Othar.
8571571
The Nightmare... Thestrals and S.M.I.L.E. agents of course. Luna controls the shadows of Equestrian she likely has agents in Dragon's Folly, ponies who do the "dirty work" in secret to keep the Land of Sunshine and Rainbows veneer up.
Man this was amazing chapter! But dude please release the next one now because I don’t want to wait for another week and the seem of more epic battles over a City is about to get awesome!
8571588
Oh yea that’s going to help
Couldn't have happened to a nicer bunch of assholes.
Go Olivia! Go team!!! Xd
I'm a little worried about these nightmares. They must be special forces from luna's guard. They must be really tough if that gryphon is scared of them even with a dragon on his side. I'm still rooting for Olivia thou, GO A TEAM!!!
Olivia fucking badass. She's getting +20 Drunk Approval Point for that.
Before this chapter I thought Salvador was a Manticore.
I actually can't for my life come up with any reason they couldn't have provided Salvador with medical means for subtracting blood ahead of time and just ask him to have the bags of blood from dozens of different ponies waiting outside the city.
That would have been safer way to conduct business and the extra gold they would have paid him would probably decreased the chance he would see what "the Nightmare " was offering as a greater opportunity.
Actually, come to think of it, that bastard could have asked them for however much gold he wanted, there is no reason the Forerunner would have had to negotiate for a good price.
Then again, if "the Nightmare" is as dangerous as he implies he might not have even had a choice.
This gets a lot darker if it turns out that was the case.
Another idea would have been to pay ponies for their blood, If they where going to be satisfied with so few samples I don't think that finding four ponies that would agree to that would have being too difficult, and just have someone like Salvador be the middle man in collecting the samples.
But that's just me trying to figure out in hindsight if there could have been some ways for them to do this better than they did, nevermind the fact that it was certainly more interesting to see Olivia wrecking house the way she did than if everything had gone smoothly.
PS: Even with those samples, they still don't have a Pegasus male or a Batpony female. I would assume that is significant.
You know, I am quite enjoying the Forerunner's personally upgrade! Such sass; very snark.
He got what he deserved, really. Go Olivia!
8571498
That is only if they can manufacture such tiny drones.
8571477
Not yet. Humanity is a tool user after all, so the entire industrial capacity of Othar and the Forerunner are also part of humanity's power. (a military industrial complex is the most effective warmachine humanity has ever devised so far)
And considering Discord himself stated the only thing left out there in the universe are the Forerunners, that is saying something, if it is true.
Nightmare sounds like Luna's quirky miniboss squad of (partially) reformed villains, sent out to do the dirty stuff.
Speaking of Luna and Sees you when you’re sleeping, knows when you’re awake!” , I don't think the story has covered how Luna's dreamwalking works with humans in pony bodies. Are they even detectable? Or is it only ponies with cutie marks, ponies that have been integrated by Harmony into the Ringworld system that are vulnerable to nocturnal mind-rape? I guess the next few chapters will shed some light.
The only good slaver is a dead slaver. Good riddance, and I suspect that the powers that be in Equestria would agree outside of everything else that is going on here.
And hey, that dragon got the challenge it was looking for.
Next thing they need is one of these:
Mount it on a track across the back and sides of their armor so the weapon's system can move to each side of their body and presto. I'd be way less trouble for them to use than manipulating a man-portable firearm, and their quadruped stance would give them the stability needed for more devastating rounds.
Hell, if they modify it enough, it could be used while flying.
8571589
I wouldn't be surprised if they have magical nullifiers and stealth spells to do the dirty job.
They will be surprised when they discover Forerunner's systems and defenses are not affected.
8571782
"Crap! Non magical measures stat!" Plenty of magic proof monsters. "The Nightmare" will likely be surprised but not helpless, those first few moments of adaptation would be critical. Let's also remember when tech and magic clash the result is spell backfire and circuits frying.
So, 'the' Nightmare, but 'they' will be angry. We're also told they are magical demons who work for the moon, and are always changing. I'm guessing this isn't Luna so much as critters under her control. And possibly non-organic critters to boot.
Though on the other hand, this could be a full up Ring Defence System. Possibly one the sisters control, or possibly one that's gone rouge, like Discord.
And Olivia continues to get more likable. For those of you pointing out that she's outside her jurisdiction, I'm pretty sure that's what the Ceres Proclamation is about, that any human can kill a slaver anywhere. Yeah, they likely weren't thinking of non-human worlds, but still.
8571666
I wouldn't offer Salvador medical tech or knowledge. Who knows what he'd do with it afterwards? Use it for himself, combined in new and unexpected ways with magic? Sell the information to Equestria, so that they can use it to find Othar or do their own innovations? Double-cross Olivia anyway in hopes of getting more necromantic lore and/or the bounty mentioned in the other comments? Humanity's science is their biggest advantage, and giving it away for just a bit of blood is a bad deal. At least money doesn't give him expanded capabilities like tech would.
I also imagine that going up to random ponies and asking, "Hey, you want to let us pay you for some of your blood?" would have led to them running away screaming about necromancers; or if knowledge of how necromancers work isn't widespread, it would definitely be something they'd remember and would tell someone about. Salvador is, if not precisely a criminal, someone with a motive for not blabbing about his transactions.
Speaking of new knowledge, though...it'd be pretty interesting to see what Equestria's covert forces make of this scene. I don't see Olivia stopping to dig the bullets and shrapnel out of the bodies, so the investigators will find that at least. Plenty of bodies to autopsy to see how the weapons kill. It seems there were survivors of the grenade attack, so if they live long enough they can tell Equestria about Olivia headbutting a dragon and then taking her mask off to reveal her real face. Too bad none of the viewpoint characters will be there to see it, and it might be too risky to leave a camera or something in the dungeons (the investigators might find it).
Olivia and crew kicking butt, Equestrian Navy Seals on the way, and a bunch of slavers dead. Good chapter.
Forerunner is really, REALLY starting to get my rogue (blarg rogue not rouge
) AI sense going. (hopefully it is a friendly one)
Good riddance.
And now those poor slaves are gonna be terrified of the 'necromancers'. Not gonna lie, kinda wanting to see from their PoV.
After thinking of this for a while you should definitely write a story about the POV of all this from different scenes for different characters like Moon Dancer, The Guards, Applelossa, Crystal Empire, Cadence, Discord, Celestia and etc. Maybe how’ll it go would be that some plot holes will be fill in for some chapters of there reactions of what happened as well more mystery plot holes for us chat to go crazy about.
I didn’t get a chance to say what I loved in this chapter but now I want to say that Olivia is my favorite Ant-Hero character in this story by far. She could have not tried this hole deal at all but like some comments here that just trying to ask for blood on a random person would cause some alarms though saving slaves and going to have them as new civilians for our Human Empire is better and much fun to read. With that battle it was totally worth the wait and I hope we stay in Dragons Villay for some time.
I have to wonder if Other is getting ready for War because since we got these “Nightmares” coming in it sure seems like Equestria Princesses or Harmony is declaring war.
Now I have to wonder about that device Olivia got could be used to make weapons to turn off Magic as well being not affected though there are signs that magic doesn’t effect them since we’re Aliens
P.S if there more of those robot birds around I would love to see a Birds Movie reference when attacking the nightmares
8571467
But I was a good boy this year Santa
Olivia's a b***h, but she's a badass b***h.
Sic Semper Tyrranis, bird boy.
8571989
listened to this the entire time reading
I replace the word boy with foal though
8571498
There are safe and boring ways to get things done, but they don't make for very exciting stories.
Suppose Olivia set up a clinic in or near Dragon's Folly, providing magic-free medical treatments for those who distrust pony magic?
Just like that, a source of blood and other biological samples, from willing donors!
Also, a remote base from which to operate.
Actually, that might work as a spy novel. But at least so far, this isn't a spy novel.
And this is why you don't fuck with Humanity
I love to see some drawings of the characters if you have some?