Fight As One

by Bluecatcinema

Old Friends, New Tricks

The following morning, after breakfast, the members of Project: Freedom had been gathered in the operations room, with Elite standing before them.

"Thank you so much for coming." Elite declared.

"You're very welcome." Caboose nodded.

"What's up, Everest?" Fury asked.

“Well, firstly, I wanted to say ‘good job’ last night on the Luna Bay mission. With the smugglers and agents detained and the cargo ruined, we took down one of their supply channels.” Elite smiled.

"A good day's work, then." Fletcher smiled.

"And every little strike against the Forefathers whittles down their strength." Black noted. "Little by little, we'll take 'em down."

“However… as good of a job you all did, I’ve been looking over your individual reports.” Elite announced, “And I have one or two notes regarding your performance."

"This should be fun..." Sterling muttered.

"For starters..." Elite looked over his notes. "Fury, it seems that you once again jumped the gun, charging into action ahead of the others."

"Hey, if it ain't broke, don't fix it." Fury shrugged.

"A very short-sighted philosophy, if you ask me." Fletcher scowled.

"Mind your own business, Ulysses." Fury growled.

“He has a point, Fury.” Elite declared, “Surely we've talked about this. Charging in like that could one day result in you being outnumbered and alone, in a situation you may not be able to survive."

"Wanna bet?" Fury sneered.

"If you're going to be a part of this team, you need to act like a team player." Elite admonished him, "Now, as for Fletcher..."

Fletcher, who had thrown a smug look Fury's way, froze and glanced at Elite.

"Sir?" He asked, a bit confused. "I don’t understand. I’ve followed orders. I worked with the others. I don’t see how you could find much or anything at all wrong with my performance."

“Now, now, it’s nothing serious.” Elite soothed, “However, according to the reports, you were a little slow on the uptake. Out of the five, you took down the least amount of targets. Every member of the team should be expected to carry their own weight."

"Yes, well... that wasn't really my fault." Fletcher spluttered. "The others kept taking out the targets before I could get a shot off. If I had the chance, I would've done much better."

“Well, maybe if you were a little faster, you wouldn’t suck as much.” Fury scoffed, “What did ya even teach ya at that Norhayan military academy, anyway, how to slow dance?”

"I'll thank you not to to insult the place I learned everything I know." Fletcher scowled, struggling to keep in his anger. "And another thing-"

“It is fine, Fletcher.” Elite declared, casting a glare at Fury, who’s smirk faded, “All I ask is that you be more spontaneous. Battle is about striking fast and often. There is rarely time to think out your every move.”

"...I'll keep that in mind, sir." Fletcher said firmly, his face showing strains of discomfort.

“Black, it seems you do well with being a little more creative with your strategies in battle.” Elite declared, “Use the same strategies every time, and they’ll come to expect it.”

"...Okay." Black nodded, not expecting such a simple critique.

"Now, Sterling." Elite looked upon him. "It says here that you hesitated when one of of your former comrades pleaded for you to let him go."

“I wasn’t going to, sir.” Sterling said flatly, noting the looks from his teammates (except Caboose, who was off looking in the distance), “...He just caught me by surprise when he recognized me.”

“Nonetheless, I hope this won’t become a habit. With your history, you’re bound to come across more ponies who will recognize you.” Elite stated, “It is just something you’re going to have to take care of. You understand?”

“...Yes, sir.” Sterling murmured, bowing his head in shame.

“Ooh, ooh, do me!” Caboose held up his hoof.

“Actually, Caboose.” Elite looked at his notes, “There’s not actually a problem with your performance.”

"Pardon?" Fletcher asked, shocked.

Black raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Say what?" Sterling gaped, surprised.

"Seriously?!" Fury gaped. "You have a problem with all of us, yet you don’t have an issue with this clown?! What the frick?!"

“What I can say?” Elite shrugged, “He was quick, efficient, and followed orders. There’s not much to comment, other than he did a great job.”

"Aw, thanks, E." Caboose beamed.

"That will be all, I think." Elite declared. "If you could try to work on these minor issues before the next mission, I would really appreciate it. Alright, everycreature is dismissed."

With that, the group began to depart.

"How could Everest think this idiot did the best out of all of us?" Fury glared at Caboose.

"Hey, don't hate the player, hate the game." Sterling smirked.

"how great is this?" Caboose grinned. "I'm so stoked that I got top marks!"

"Yes..." Fletcher said though a forced smile. "I'm so happy for you..."

"Aw, thanks, pal!" Caboose hugged him, completely oblivious.

As the group filed out, Elite caught up to Black.

"Black, a quick word, if you please?" Elite inquired quietly.

"Okay..." Black nodded. Beneath the others' notice, he stayed in the room. "So, what's up?"

"I have... other notes regarding your performance." Elite confessed. "Notes I felt were just best kept between us for the moment."

"Is that so?" Black frowned. "What seems to be the problem, besides my lack of ‘creativity’?"

“Well, it’s mostly about what happened with Fury.” Elite explained, “His ‘tendency’ to rush into fights, with no regards for his or anypony’s safety.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I thought I talked some sense into that feathered brain of his back with the Steeple Chase mission, but that griffon continued to be a arrogant piece of crap.” Black scowled.

“Yes, it is a problem… how is a team supposed to thrive, when one keeps stepping out of line like that?” Elite declared, “You think somepony would see fit to prevent that…”

“Yeah, you-” Black nodded silently… before noticing Elite glancing at him. “...Wait a minute, are you blaming me for Fury’s reckless behavior?”

“No, but I’ve read up on your report. It sounded like you had a plan of attack, yet the moment Fury went on ahead, you and the team just charged in after him.” Elite explained.

“Well, yeah.” Black frowned, “No thanks to Fury, I didn’t have time to think up a new plan. So we had to wing it. Everything turned out alright, though, didn’t it?”

“It did, but it could have easily gone south.” Elite shook his head, “And since you were the head of the team, you should had been able to maintain control of the situation, and be able to keep creatures like Fury in line.”

"I know, I just-" Black attempted to defend himself.

"I don't hold you in contempt for it, Black, I assure you." Elite assured him. "I know that true leadership is something you're not used to."

“But why am I the leader?” Black scowled, “Why are you expecting me to deal with Fury? You and Ballista are our superiors.”

“Because we won’t be able to, when you’re out there.” Elite countered, “In a team like Project: Freedom, or any team in general, needs to have somepony that is able to take charge, to inspire his troops, help them grow into mighty warriors. And that pony is you, Black.”

“Me?” Black snorted, “Look, Elite, I’m flattered, but I’m not sure I’m leader material. I mean, I can work with other ponies and creatures. That, I have no problem with… anymore, at least. But leading this bunch? A battle-happy rage case, a ‘by-the-book’ Captain, whatever Caboose is, because I have no buckin’ idea, and a former Forefather flunky?”

"From what I've been able to ascertain, it's not a matter of ability." Elite announced. "You already have what it takes to be an effective leader. So will the others with time. But for now, the problem is that you need to assert yourself more. You must make your authority known. Give orders, and make it clear that they are to be followed."

"Easier said than done, boss." Black sighed. "Fury and me have never seen eye-to-eye. Mr. 'Captain of the Guard' might have a problem with that. Caboose, again, I have no buckin’ idea. And Sterling…” He shook his head, “I don’t know what to think. The jury's still out on him."

"I understand." Elite nodded. "But I believe in you, Black. If anycreature can forge this group into an effective fighting force, and guide them to victory, it's you."

"...Thanks, Elite." Black smiled weakly. "I'll give it my best shot."

"That's all I ask." Elite smiled.

'A pretty tall order, if you ask me...' Black thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Sterling was also focusing on what Elite had said.

'What if it happens again?' He thought. 'What if I freeze up when I'm faced with another former comrade? Hell, what if I see Ricochet or Doc again? What will Elite and the others do if it keeps happening? What if they decide to nullify our agreement? I could get thrown back into jail, and despite what they say about protecting me, I don’t doubt that I will be a sitting duck for the Forefathers to pluck… and then there’s Loveless… what will happen to him?'

As he kept walking, Sterling crossed paths with Armory.

"Morning, Sterling." Armory declared. "Hope the little meeting your team was invited to went okay."

"Could've gone worse." Sterling shrugged. "Not sure how, but it probably could have..."

"Okay..." Armory said awkwardly. "So, any plans for the rest of the day?"

"Well, I was thinking of putting in a little more sword training." Sterling admitted.

"I see." Armory nodded. "Speaking of which, do you remember that request I made regarding your sword?"

"You mean letting you check it out?" Sterling frowned. "I don't know, it's kinda new..."

"I promise, I'll treat it with the utmost care." Armory pledged. "Honestly, it's this part that interests me." He pointed out the 'engine' part on the sword's hilt. "It seems like some kind of mechanism. But for what, I don't know."

“To be honest, I’m not sure myself.” Sterling admitted, “There’s this trigger on the side that’s been bugging me, and I kinda want to pull it, but I’m kinda afraid of what it might do.”

“Well, give me a day with it and I’ll find out for you.” Armory explained, “Trust me, there’s not a piece of machinery I hadn’t been able to figure out.”

Sterling frowned as he glanced at his sword. Whatever the machinery on the blade did, he doubted Loveless would have designed it to hurt him in any way. The fact that he thought to add this piece while restoring his blade must have meant he intended it to have some use for him...

'Guess Loveless must have had more than one surprise in mind when he restored it...' Sterling mused.

"So, what do you say?" Armory inquired. "Mind if I take a look at the sword?"

"Well..." Sterling mumbled. He found himself unable to refuse the pleading look on Armory's face. "Okay, you can check it out."

"Thanks." Armory smiled.

"Just be careful with it, okay?" Sterling reluctantly handed over the sword. "It was a gift, from somepony very dear to me."

"I assure you, you'll get back in one piece." Armory told him. "Maybe even better, if my hunch is right..."

"If you say so." Sterling shrugged. "Maybe I'll go work on the punching bag for a while. That should pass the time..."

"You won't regret this." Armory said as a parting thought. "I promise."

"I've heard a lot of promises in my time." Sterling muttered as he walked away. "But not all of them were kept.."

Sterling headed off to the gym and started to work out (making an effort to focus more on his non-enhanced hoof). He also idly wondered what Armory's examination of the sword would reveal. However, both the workout and the thought of the sword couldn't take Sterling's mind off the morning meeting for long.

'What am I going to do?' Sterling thought. 'What if I end up hesitating again? What if I can't bring myself to hurt or take in my old comrades? It'll ruin everything. The new life, the deal I made with Elite for Loveless's safety, it'll all be for nothing...'

Done with working out for the moment, Sterling decided to head back to his quarters.

'If only I had somepony to talk to about all this.' Sterling regretted. 'But I don't. No Red, No Shooting, no Loveless or Ricochet, not even Ward. It's just me here, all alone...'

Sterling continued walking down the corridors, lost in despair.

'Some new life.' He thought balefully.

Just as he was about to open the door to his quarters, a familiar voice spoke up.

“Turning in already? The day’s still young!”

Sterling froze in place.

“Am I hearing things again?” He gaped, “Because that sounded a lot like-”

Sterling turned around, and saw yet another face he'd never expected to see again: a former comrade and ex-leader of the Black Sheep, Pike Redfield. He looked a lot older than Sterling remembered him, being bald and all, but he also seemed a lot more relaxed than he once was.

“Pike? Pike Redfield?!” Sterling gasped.

"Hey, kid." Pike smiled. "Long time, no see."

“Oh my Faust!” Sterling yelled, “Pike, I don’t believe this! You’re here! You’re alive!”

“Wow, didn’t think you’d be this surprised to see me.” Pike deadpanned.

“No, it’s just… how is this possible?” Sterling shook his head in disbelief, “I thought you were dead. That Black and the others killed you in that ambush.”

“Well, to be fair, Black did almost kill me. But nope, I’m been alive all this time.” Pike smirked, “But look at you. You grew up strong and healthy. Loveless and Jetstream must have done wonders raising you.”

“Yeah… I guess they have.” Sterling murmured stiffly, still processing that he was speaking to somepony who he also thought was deceased, “Where have you been all these years? I mean, after that ambush, none of us had seen or heard from you.”

“Well, it’s a long story.” Pike declared, “You see, I wasn’t able to beat Black when he came up to the rooftop to face me, and after he decided to not kill me, I was captured, and locked up in a cell down below this place, and it’s where I’ve been for quite a while. It wasn’t till shortly after Black came back to the RDL after his second ‘death’ that I managed to convince him and the RDL that I wanna make amends, and broke a deal with them. In exchange for giving them info on the Forefathers, they'd let me have a little more freedom around here."

"So you turned against the Forefathers?" Sterling asked.

“Well, it’s not like they did much for me all these years.” Pike scoffed, “After all, I was the head of the Black Sheep, the dirt on which the lowest head of the totem stood. I mean, after that ambush, did anypony bother to look for me before deciding that I was a goner?”

“...No…” Sterling lowered his head, “No, they didn’t.”

“Exactly.” Pike scowled, “Aside from Loveless and maybe one or two other ponies there, they were all assholes. I hated the Black Sheeps, and I was their boss, for crying out loud. It wasn't exactly the highlight of my career. Far from it. Let me tell you, even if that ambush never happened, I probably would've jumped ship sooner or later.”

“But why?” Sterling questioned, legitimately curious, “Why did you decide to change sides?”

“Well, let’s just say Black wasn’t the only one going through a rough patch in his life.” Pike mused, “Ever since I met the guy, I'd begun to question my choices I made since my family died… and when I finally got captured, I had a lot of time to think in my cell… and I decided that the Forefathers could kiss my ass. So I decided to become the Taskforce’s informant.”

"Guess I can't argue with that logic." Sterling shrugged, acknowledging that he had felt similarly to Pike.

"Glad ya see it that way." Pike smiled.

"Hold on..." Sterling frowned. "That caper in White Tail Woods, when the agents were ambushed... That was you?"

"Yep." Pike nodded.

"The foiled attempt to take the Diadem of Despair?" Sterling asked.

"Yep." Pike smiled.

"The takedown of the smuggling ring over in Trottingham?" Sterling continued.

"Actually, I sent them to where I knew some files were hidden." Pike admitted. "The fact that they interrupted our guys was entirely coincidental."

“Oh…” Sterling frowned, “...Still, I gotta give you credit. I mean, to turn against the Forefathers, like you did, knowing what they do to traitors? That must had taken some real guts to do that.”

“Not really.” Pike said humbly, “I mean, like you said, everypony thought I was dead, and I was just a Black Sheep. I was their leader, sure, but I was no pony important.”

“But you were the one who had the courage to realize that you didn’t want to be a part of that life anymore.” Sterling lowered his head, “If only I shared your courage all those years ago… maybe I would have hurt a lot less ponies.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, Sterling.” Pike replied, “You were just a kid back then, having only been a agent for a few months. While it may have taken you twenty-some years, you still came around in the end. You’ve chosen to turn your back on the life you had built with the Forefathers, so that you could finally do the right thing, and that’s what counts in my book.”

“...Thanks, Pike.” Sterling nodded with a smile, “You know, I can’t tell you how good it is to finally see a familiar face that doesn’t hate my guts. A lot of my so-called comrades haven’t been the most welcoming since I’ve got here.”

"I know the feeling." Pike admitted. "I got a lot of flack from most of these guys for a while. They didn't trust me. Most of 'em thought I was pullin' some kind of long con. That Armory guy was the only one who seemed to think I was on the up and up."

"Really?" Sterling mused. "He seemed like a nice guy, but I didn't think he was that nice."

"Yeah, he's a real champ." Pike smiled.

“...So, what have you been doing lately, besides being an informant?” Sterlilng asked.

"Come with me and I'll show you." Pike offered.

"Eh, why not?" Sterling shrugged. "Not like I've got anything better to do right now..."

Pike led Sterling down to the lower levels of the complex, all the while catching up on recent events -namely, what Sterling had been up to since they'd last seen each other.

“...So, after I found out the true reason behind Titanfall, I knew I had to get out of there.” Sterling continued, “I felt bad, leaving Loveless and Ricochet behind like that, but I just couldn’t be a part of it anymore.”

“Well, it sounds like you picked a good time to leave.” Pike frowned, “I always knew there was something off about that Solomon, but that… that was messed up.”

“Yeah it was…” Sterling nodded, “Either way, after I got out of Canterlot, I spent a few weeks walking around Equestria, trying to find out what to do, when this couple came and picked me up…”

“Big Red and Cherry, right? Black’s friends, right?” Pike recalled, “I heard all about you hiding out at their place for a while.”

“It wasn’t part of the plan, but yes.” Sterling mused, remembering the family, “They took me in and let me stay at their place for about a month. Things actually were going good for a while. I made a few friends, met this girl… but then… my past caught up with me...”

As Sterling continued his story, he and Pike neared the depths of the building, where the corridors were smaller and darker. Finally, they reached a line of prison cells, tiny and with gray walls.

“...And once we got back to the homestead, Elite and I got to talking.” Sterling recalled, nearing the end of his story, “Instead of wanting to arrest me, he made me the offer to join Project: Freedom. And watching my other brother die and everything I been through with the Forefathers… I accepted… so here I am.”

“Wow… that is quite a story.” Pike declared, “...I’m sorry about your brother.”

“It’s just something else I’ll have to live with.” Sterling shook his head, as he then noticed where they were, “...Hold on, did we get turned around somewhere? What is this place?”

“This is the Pipeline. It’s where the RDL keeps all their more troublesome prisoners… and this is where I live.” Pike revealed.

Pike pressed two buttons on the wall, lifting a panel to reveal a lowering glass panel, showing the inside of a quaint cell.

“Home sweet home.” Pike smiled.

"...Wait, you live here?" Sterling frowned. "In a prison cell?"

"It used to be a prison cell." Pike admitted. "When I started to prove my worth, they offered me a place upstairs. But I'd gotten used to living in here, so I asked them to install buttons on the inside, so I could come and go about the headquarters as I pleased."

"Fair enough." Sterling nodded. "But if you're not allowed to actually leave the place, what do you do all day?"

"Eh, I mostly carve." Pike declared. "Take a look at my gallery..."

Pike led Sterling to the cell next to his, pressing two more buttons to reveal a modified cell, where several wooden sculptures sat. Some were of ponies, others of various beasts, and others still were of random shapes and styles. There were even some birdhouses, and a wooden clock in the making.

"Whattaya think?" Pike asked.

"Well, it's very... creative." Sterling said awkwardly.

“Geez, appreciate the enthusiasm, kid.” Pike frowned.

"Sorry." Sterling apologized. "Art isn't really my thing… but it's good that you've been keeping busy, though. Maybe if I had a hobby, I wouldn’t have to worry so much about my own problems right now."

“Take it from me, Sterling. Don’t let it get to you.” Pike urged, “Sure, these guys may not like you at first, but once you’ve proven yourself, they’ll accept you. They did that for me, and they'll do it for you. Trust me."

"I'll try to keep that in mind." Sterling nodded. "But at least I know there might be hope for me if you’re here right now.”

“No doubt.” Pike nodded, “And it really is good to see you again after all these years. If you ask me, Elite made the right call in bringing you here."

"If you say so." Sterling said half-heartedly.

"Give it time, kid." Pike urged. "You'll find your place soon enough. And in the meantime, if you ever need somepony to talk to, feel free to drop by for a chat… and if you need me to kick somepony’s ass, I will also do that.”

“I bet you will.” Sterling smiled, “Thanks, Pike. I needed that.”

"Anytime." Pike nodded.

"I'd like to stay longer, but it's almost time for the lunch." Sterling noted. "See you soon, okay?"

"Whenever you need to talk." Pike pledged.

For the rest of the day, Sterling feel far more positive than he had the last couple of days.

'Finally, a silver lining in the cloud.' He thought happily, as he ate his lunch.

"What's he so happy about?" Fletcher frowned, seeing Sterling's change of mood from across the room. "After what happened yesterday, you'd think he'd have little reason to smile..."

"Maybe he just really likes his food?" Caboose suggested.

"Or perhaps it's something else..." Fletcher glowered. "Whatever it is, I don’t like it… I don’t like it one bit.”

“Are you doing alright, Fletcher?” Caboose frowned, “You’re making that face again.”

“What face?” Fletcher grunted.

“The face you made last night.” Caboose pointed out, “It looks like you’re mad about something… either that or you are very constipated. Should I get you some Max-Lax?”

“I’m not constipated!” Fletcher snapped… before letting out a small sigh, “...Sorry. I’m just… what Elite said earlier really bothered me.”

“What? The thing about you needing to be more spontaneous?” Caboose asked, “What’s bothersome about that? Elite said it wasn’t anything serious.”

“Yet he felt the need to bring it up.” Fletcher frowned, “And I am spontaneous! You know I am! I've fought criminals, insurgents and monsters! I was top of my class back in Norhay! I’m the Captain of the Royal Guard! My performance should had been flawless!”

“Whoa, take it easy, Fletch.” Caboose soothed, “It was just a suggestion. He’s not saying you screwed the pooch or anything. Not like Ted Trotter.”

“...Grr, I know…” Fletcher hissed, calming down, “I guess I’m not used to ponies not being satisfied with how I perform out in the field.”

“It’s not something you’re gonna try and quit over, is it?” Caboose frowned.

“Of course not.” Fletcher grunted, “...I just want to show Elite that he made the right choice picking me to join the team. And if what happened last night is anything to go by, I didn’t give a good enough show.”

“So you had an off night. It happens.” Caboose shrugged.

“Easy for you to say, he had nothing to say about you.” Fletcher frowned.

“If you ask me, you’re overthinkin’ it. That was only our first mission together as a team.” Caboose smirked, “I bet ya next time, you’re gonna show Elite why you’re the best around, and that no one ever gonna keep ya down!”

Fletcher glanced at him.

“And don’t think because I quoted a song that I’m not serious.” Caboose added, “You’re gonna do great next time.”

"Thank you for the support, Caboose." Fletcher smiled. "No matter what, I know can always count on you."

"Always, pal." Caboose grinned.

The following afternoon, Sterling returned to the gym, his renewed vigour giving him more reason to give it his all. While he was working on lifting weights, Fury was nearby, practicing his spear throwing and wind powers. He had barely reacted to Sterling's arrival, only giving him an contemptuous sneer as he entered the gym, and paid Sterling no heed afterward... which suited Sterling just fine.

'The last thing I need is that overstuffed turkey ruining my good mood...' Sterling thought, hoisting the dumbbells above his head.

As Sterling continued lifting, Armory entered the gym, carrying Sterling's sword.

“Armory?” Sterling frowned.

"Ah, there you are." Armory smiled. "I thought you'd like to know that I've finished my examination of your sword.”

“Already?” Sterling lowered the weights, “Wow, I didn’t think you would figure it out that fast. What did you find?”

“Quite a bit.” Armory smirked, as he held up the sword, “While I was studying the machinery on the blade, I had come to realize that I had seen it somewhere before.”

“Really?” Sterling asked, perplexed.

“Oh, yes. It is heavily modified and compacted, but it is unmistakably an AMP generator.” Armory revealed.

“A what now?” Sterling grimaced in confusion.

“An AMP, an Anti-Magic Pulse generator.” Armory clarified, “You see, back when I was working for my old employers in Germaney, I had worked on these kind of devices. Back then, they were buckin’ huge, each about a size of a Clydesdale. When you get them runnin’, they set off a pulse that shoots out and renders anything and everything magic-related within the vicinity useless.”

"So you're saying this thing can disable magic and spell fields?" Sterling took the sword.

“In theory, yes. Unicorn magic, enchanted artifacts... All of that becomes unusable when an AMP generator is running. Gives all magic users quite a headache.” He glanced at the sword, “Judging by the machine’s size and construction, this AMP has a efficacy area of fifty or so meter radius. Not as effective as an full-blown generator, but pretty impressive for such a small thing.”

“Fifty metre, huh?” Sterling whistled, “That’s really something…”

Fury was watching them, while using his wind powers to make his spears spin in a circle above him.

"Talking about nerd stuff, or something." He scoffed. "I got better things to do than listen to that garbage..."

“So… how does it work?” Sterling asked.

“Well, I looked into that… and I noticed this thing here.” Armory gestured the trigger-like shaft on the side of the machine, “From what I gathered, you pull it, and it turns it on.”

“You mean like this?” Sterling pulled the lever.

Suddenly, the center of the machinery, a circular plate of sorts, begins to glow a dull purple, as something begins to quietly whir inside.

“Okay, now what?” Sterling glanced at it in confusion.

“I wasn’t sure at first, but I noticed that the lever itself has some sort of a twistable grip on it that goes back and forth.” Armory pointed to the lever, “But I didn’t get much farther. I thought I’d give you the honor of testing it out.”

“I’m flattered.” Sterling joked, as he placed his hoof on the lever. With a twist of his hoof, he turned the grip on the lever.

Immediately, the machine of the blade let out a louder whirring sound. It lasted only a second, as it went back to silence. Armory and Sterling shared a odd look.

“...Hmm, maybe you need to twist it some more. Get it warmed up.” Armory suggested, “It happens sometimes with our motorized carriage.”

Sterling twisted the grip once again, and the generator began to rev.

"Feels kinda nice." Sterling remarked. He twisted the grip again, and again, until the engine finally roared its way to life, the light on its plate growing brighter, and shaking a little.

“Whoa, now it’s going!” Armory smirked.

“Hell yeah it is!” Sterling laughed.

“Hey!” Fury shouted, the light and noise the blade was emitting catching his attention, “What the flap is goin' on over there?"

"Just a little experiment, Fury." Armory answered. "Nothing to worry about."

“Wait, doesn’t an AMP disables all forms of magic?” Sterling frowned.

"Well, yes." Armory nodded. "They usually cause discomfort and disability of magic as a side-effect. Thankfully, it is only-"

Suddenly, there was a small booming sound, as the light ‘popped’, firing out a just as dull purple wave, expanding the entire room. The wave passed through Sterling and Armory effortlessly…

But the moment it touched Fury, he suddenly cried out in pain.

"Argh!" He yelped, clutching his head. The wisps in his eyes flickered out, as it was short-circuiting.

“Fury?!” Armory turned to the griffon in shock.

As this was happening, the winds he'd created suddenly died out, causing the spears to fall, embedding themselves in the floor around him. It was as if a cage had dropped down in front of the agonized Griffon.

The light faded seconds later, as the machinery on Sterling’s sword went silent… then steam began pouring out of small holes in the side of the machine.

Sterling was understandably perplussed.

“...What the heck just-” Sterling was about to ask.

"Fury, what happened?" Armory called, as he rushed over. Sterling followed after him (at a noticeably slower rate), “Are you alright?!”

“No, I’m not alright!” Fury snarled, holding his head in pain, “There’s this loud ringing in my ears and it won’t stop!” He let out a loud groan, “Oh, Lauren flappin’ Faust!”

“Huh… interesting.” Armory mused, “How is it that you’re riling in pain, while we’re doing just fine?”

“I don’t know, you tell me!” Fury snarled, as he then glared viciously at Sterling, “You… you did this to me! You and that stupid toy of yours!”

“Yeah, what of it?” Sterling scowled.

"What of it, he says..." Fury seethed. "I'm gonna blast ya right across the room, that's 'what of it'!" He pulled two of his spears out of the floor, freeing himself, and opened his wings.

“Fury, don’t!” Armory tried to stop him.

"Enjoy your flight!" Fury flapped his wings, intending to create a gust of wind powerful enough to send Sterling flying.

Sterling braced himself for the blast of wind... only to feel a gentle breeze, courtesy of the Griffon's flapping wings.

"What the-?!" Fury gaped, staring at his wings. He flapped his wings again… and again… but all it did was blow some air in the pony’s face, “No… no…” He glared at Sterling, “What the frick did your sword do to me?! My powers! They’re not working!”

“I’m confused as you are!” Sterling grimaced, as he turned to Armory, “Armory?”

“I think I know what’s going on here.” Armory declared, as he took the sword back, “When I first found out this was an AMP, the first thing I noticed was it looked… different. Like no AMP generators I’ve seen before… and I think I know why. This is no ordinary AMP generator. Someone had painstakingly modified it to disable, not normal magic, but dark magic.”

“Dark magic? So the generator blocked Fury’s powers.” Sterling declared.

“That’s right. When used in proximity of Nightcrawlers, such as Fury here, the pulse must disable the Tenebros gene, rendering any Nightcrawler around you powerless.” Armory explained, “Making this not a AMP… but a DAMP: a ‘Dark Anti-Magic Pulse’ generator.”

“I don’t give a flap about what it’s called!” Fury roared, really angry, “This is just perfect! My powers are gone, and I got a damn migraine because of that stupid sword!”

"Hey, the sword was a gift, okay?" Sterling retorted. "I didn't even know it could do that until Armory took a look at it."

"So you're saying I should blame him instead?" Fury glared at Armory. "I can work with that!"

“Would you calm down, Fury?” Armory frowned, standing his ground, “This isn’t permanent.”

“What?” Fury scoffed.

“As I was telling Sterling here before it went off, the effects of an AMP is only temporary.” Armory told the griffon, “The duration usually depends on the size of generator, but judging by range and output, I’d say your powers will return in around ten minutes, and the ringing will cease.”

“For both your sakes, it better.” Fury scowled, “Or else, I’m about to claw some ponies’ asses!”

“This is pretty neat.” Sterling noted, as he took back his sword, “This thing can weaken all Nightcrawlers in the area. That oughta give us an edge in a fight, right?”

“In theory, yes. But note the steam expelling from the sword.” Armory pointed to the machinery, as it continued to pour steam from its exhausts, “AMP generators are known to generate a lot of heat after use, necessitating the needs for exhaust ports. Going by the size, and how little exhausts there are on the sword, that thing probably won’t be safe to use again for at least an hour.”

“So, use it only when necessary, got it.” Sterling smirked, “I can work with that. I’ve been only using it as a sword so far anyways.”

“Look, I don’t care how you use it, just keep that thing away from me!” Fury spat, “Or else!”

"I have to say though, whoever designed this was truly a master of the craft.” Armory admitted, “A work of mechanical art.”

"No arguments here." Sterling smiled fondly, remembering Loveless's technological skill.

“...Although, I do believe there is room for improvement.” Armory mused.

"Improvement?" Sterling frowned.

“Oh, yes.” Armory nodded, “If you give me another day or so, I could work on the generator. Maybe get it to work on all forms of magic, cut the cooldown period in half-”

"That's okay." Sterling cut him off. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll stick with the sword as is."

"Oh, alright." Armory replied, slightly crestfallen. "But if you ever change your mind..."

"I'll let you know." Sterling nodded. "Now, if you don't mind, I think I've had enough of a workout for one day. I'll head out."

"Okay." Armory nodded. "I'll stick with Fury here till the AMP’s effects wears off.”

“Why? You said it would wear off in around ten minutes.” Sterling declared.

“I did…” Armory admitted, “...But considering the generator was modified, I would like to make sure that it does wear off.”

“And if it doesn’t, I’m coming after you.” Fury growled, “You can bet on it.”

"I'll keep that in mind." Sterling scoffed as he left the room.

"And don't you even think of using that gadget on me again, ya hear?!" Fury called after him as he departed.

Sterling pretended not to have heard Fury's threat as he walked down the corridors of the base.

"Another great day." He remarked to himself. "Guess Loveless really did mean for that sword to be a surprise. Still, that Fury nut's really gonna have it out for me now..." He sighed deeply. "Ah, well. Maybe a little target practice will take my mind off things..."

Sterling made his way to the shooting range. He was in such a rush that he wasn't watching where he was going, and he soon bumped into somepony else.

"Oof!" Sterling grunted.

"Whoops!"

Recognizing the voice, Sterling realized he had bumped into Caboose.

“...Oh, hey, Caboose.” He said flatly.

“Sterling!” Caboose gave a small smile, looking a bit surprised to see him, “Didn’t see ya there. Are you okay?”

"I'm fine." Sterling said bluntly.

"You sure?" Caboose frowned. "'Cause you look a little-"

"A little completely okay." Sterling cut him off. "Sorry, but there's no time to talk. I need to get somewhere. See ya later."

"Oh, okay."Caboose nodded awkwardly. "Bye."

Sterling quickly departed, leaving Caboose behind.

'That was weird.' He thought, as he made his way through the winding corridors. 'He seemed strangely friendly towards me.' He shook his head. 'Nah, I'm probably just imagining it. None of my so-called teammates really like me. Bet my popularity won't increase after they find out what I did to feathers...'

Sterling rounded a corner, reaching an intersection, and narrowly avoided crashing into Caboose again.

“Ah!” Sterling stepped back.

“Sorry about- oh, hey, Sterling!” Caboose smiled.

“You again?!” Sterling grimaced, “Are you following me or something?”

“I don’t think so. Are you following me?” Caboose tilted his head quizzically.

“Why would I… you know what, it doesn’t matter.” Sterling shook his head, “I’m just trying to get to the shooting range. Get in some target practice.”

“Oh…” Caboose murmured awkwardly, “Well… ain’t that a coinkydink. That’s where I’m going too.”

“It is?” Sterling frowned, “...Then why did you go the other way?”

“Um… I was taking the scenic route?” Caboose answered.

“The scenic route. Inside a military base.” Sterling deadpanned.

“Yes.” Caboose nodded.

The two stared at each other for a moment… before Sterling spoke up.

“Okay…” Sterling muttered, “Well, I gonna go now…”

“Hey, do you maybe want to go together?” Caboose asked, “Since we’re going the same way?”

“I don’t know. Is that going to be a problem for you?” Sterling glared.

“Well, no.” Caboose shook his head, “Why would it?”

“I’m not an idiot, Caboose.” Sterling growled, “You’ve been avoiding me since I got here. Why else would you try to take another route to the same place? I don’t know if you know this, but I would prefer that if ponies don’t like me, that they just say it to my face and be done with it.”

“...Oh…” Caboose glanced down for a moment, before looking back up, “Well, would you believe me if I told you I’m not avoiding you because I don’t like you?”

“...What?” Sterling asked, confused.

“You see, Fletcher kinda made me promise not to talk to you.” Caboose rubbed the back of his head, “He thinks you’re untrustworthy, or something.”

“Fletcher?” Sterling repeated, disgusted, “Hmph, I never would’ve guessed.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Caboose admitted, missing the sarcasm, “It’s something he never usually asks of me. He usually trusts my judgment, like this time in Canterlot when we tracked down a jewel thief, or when I get to pick the flavors for celebratory ice cream. My favorite's rocky road..." He smiled happily, then frowned. "...What were we talking about again?”

“So do you usually do everything Fletcher tells you to do?” Sterling frowned.

“Well, yeah. He’s kinda the captain of the Royal Guards back over in Canterlot.” Caboose shrugged, “And one of my best buddies.”

“So, you think I’m untrustworthy too?” Sterling challenged.

“No, not really. I actually think you’re an okay kinda guy.” Caboose smirked.

“You do?” Sterling raised an eyebrow, “I mean, I did do lot of crappy things, on top of our little fight back during Titanfall.”

“Haven’t we all?” Caboose asked, “I done a lot of crazy things before I became a Royal Guard. Aside from the thing with your older brother, all the bad stuff you've done was a Tuesday for me.”

“Really?” Sterling gaped. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved, or concerned.

“Really really.” Caboose chuckled a bit, “Besides, you looked like you’re sorry for being a meanie. And if you’re truly sorry, then that’s that. Ain’t having none of that drama.”

“Huh…” Sterling mused, “Thanks, I guess. It’s nice to know someone on Project: Freedom doesn’t hate me. Too bad the same can’t be said about your ‘best buddy’.”

“Oh, Fletcher means well.” Caboose shrugged awkwardly, “He just needs some time to get to know you, that’s all.”

“Well, I’m not holding my breath.” Sterling scoffed, “Where is he anyways? Don’t you two usually hang out together?”

“Oh, he’s back over at Canterlot. You see, his wife is pregnant, and he wants to make sure everything is going A-OK.” Caboose revealed, “Won’t be back until evening.”

“I see…” Sterling murmured, “So… you think he’s gonna be okay with you and me going to the shooting range together?”

“Well, no. But I really want to shoot stuff.” Caboose grimaced, “But I did promise Fletcher. And he’s my friend and the captain…”

"Well, technically, we won't be 'talking', but practicing... while chatting." Sterling pointed out. "And you said yourself, we're going to the same place. It's not really anypony's fault we're going there at the same time."

"You have a point there." Caboose admitted. "'Chatting' isn't really the same as talking, is it?"

"Nope." Sterling smirked. "So let's go."

"Right behind ya." Caboose nodded.

The two made their way through the corridors, setting out for their objective.

“So, have you ever been to this shooting range?” Sterling asked.

“Oh, loads of time.” Caboose smiled, “I’ve always had a knack for crossbows! They’re my favorite things… well, after cannons.”

“Same here… the crossbow thing, not the cannons.” Sterling admitted, “I saw how you handled yourself the other night. You got a pretty good eye.”

"I had a lot of practice." Caboose declared, “Helped that I had seven brothers teaching me.”

“Well, not to brag, but I am a pretty good shot myself.” Sterling smirked.

“Yeah, I heard a bit about that from your ‘resume’.” Caboose recalled, “Is it true that you shot two thousand yards?”

“Meh, more like a thousand.” Sterling winced, “The two thousand bit was just me trying to play myself up so I could get into the Crystal Guards.”

“Still, that’s pretty awesome.” Caboose whistled, “My brother Murray made a shot like that when we were kids. Hit a moving bird five miles away while trying to hit a tree. Got him his cutie mark.”

"Oh, yeah." Sterling nodded. "I remember reading something like that in that book your brother wrote.”

"Oh, you read Grim's book?" Caboose smiled.

“It was the really the only compelling read they had back in prison.” Sterling shrugged, “Big Red also had a copy back at his place. And I have to say, you Napoleons were crazy sons of draft horses. Almost makes what I lived through look normal."

“Well, that is one way of putting it.” Caboose shrugged modestly.

"Good to know I'm not the only one with a crazy background." Sterling grinned.

"You have no idea, my friend..." Caboose chuckled.

Soon after, they were at the shooting range. It was an outdoor area, on a ridge on the side of the mountain, with targets set up on stilts with varying heights, and a large wall covered in more targets at the end.

“Wow, this is some shooting range.” Sterling whistled.

“Didn’t ya have something like this back at the Legion of Doom?” Caboose asked.

“Well, sorta, but nothing this… wait, did you say Legion of Doom?” Sterling grimaced.

“Sorry. Don’t really know much about the Forefathers outside what Black and the guys told me.” Caboose shrugged, “I mean, when I think of them, all I can think of is whether or not they’re good at golf…” He turned to Sterling, “Are they?”

“I wouldn’t really know.” Sterling answered, a bit bemused, “Golf surprisingly isn’t a topic that is brought up in a secret organization.”

"Go figure." Caboose shrugged, as he started setting up some targets. "Hey, you use crossbows a lot, right?"

"Mostly, yeah." Sterling nodded.

"What kind d'ya prefer?" Caboose asked. "I'm partial to the secretarian sideshot with the metal handle, myself."

"Eh, that's okay." Sterling shrugged. "I prefer the kind with the wooden handle. Easier to get to grips with."

"Like the old-fashioned makes, huh?" Caboose mused. "To each his own..."

“Why don’t you go first, Caboose?” Sterling suggested, “I wouldn’t want to do too well and leave you unable to keep up.”

"Don't worry about me, buddy boy." Caboose smirked, “You just focus on giving me a show.”

Pulling up his crossbow, Caboose took aim at one target, which sat between two blocks (requiring exact accuracy to hit), and fired. The bolt hit the target dead center.

"How d'ya like that?" Caboose smirked.

“Hmm, not bad, not bad.” Sterling nodded, as he drew his crossbow, “But now try this…”

Sterling set his sights on another target, one up high, set at an angle, then pointed his crossbow away, and fired. The bolt ricochet off one of the other targets' stand, bounced off the wall, and hit the target dead-on.

"Oh..." Caboose grinned. "Didn't know we were doin' trick shots."

"That's not a problem, is it?" Sterling asked.

"You tell me." Caboose held up his crossbow without looking, and made a ricochet shot of his own, one which also found his mark on another random target.

"Okay, that's enough of the warm-ups." Sterling grinned. "Time to get serious."

"Yeah, serious..." Caboose declared, a goofy grin on his face.

What followed was a flurry of bolts raining on the shooting range, as Caboose and Sterling proceeded to hit every target, with no wasted bolts between them. Bank shots, curved bolts, behind the back shots... no trick was left undone.

Soon, both crossbows were clicking, signifying they were out.

"Okay, I guess you really are as good as you claim." Caboose admitted happily.

"You're not so bad yourself, pal." Sterling nodded, as he set down his crossbow, “So, I guess that’s enough shooting for the day.”

“So, whatcha doin’ now?” Caboose asked, eyeing the sword on his back, “Gonna practice with the Engine Blade some more?”

“...Engine Blade?” Sterling frowned.

“Oh, sorry. I have a tendency to say things that only the readers would get.” Caboose apologized.

“...The readers?” Sterling continued, more confused.

“It’s complicated.” Caboose shrugged, “So… are you going to be training some more.”

“I dunno, I’m kinda beat right now.” Sterling admitted, “You wouldn’t happen to know a good place to relax, would you?”

“Oh yeah, there’s this awesome lounge.” Caboose smiled. “It got everything in it. Recliners, refreshment, pool table, and a state of the art home entertainment system, and a whole huge collection of movies. Apparently Elite and the gang are huge movie afficandos.”

“Oh, I can’t remember the last time I saw a movie.” Sterling smiled, “Didn’t have much free time outside the Forefathers, and there were certainly no cinemas over in Dodge Junction.”

“Do you have a type you like?” Caboose questioned.

“Not in particular… but I do love me a bad movie.” Sterling chuckled, “And when I say ‘bad’, I mean so bad that you can’t help but love to hate them.”

“No way, me too!” Caboose smiled, “It’s so much fun watching how awful those films are, especially if they are so cheesy, they could put them on nachos!”

“No kiddin’?” Sterling grinned, “Like that one movie, 'The Kitchen' with Tommy Wiseoats?"

“’I did not hit her, it's not true! It's bullcrap! I did not hit her! I did not! Oh hi, Mark.’” Caboose quoted, adding an odd accent to his voice. As soon as he finished, Caboose gave a wide grin.

“Oh-ho-ho, that was spot on!” Sterling laughed.

“How ‘bout that one movie with the two superheroes who fight, but then become best friends when they find out their mothers have the same first name?" Caboose challenged.

“’Why did you say that name?! Martha?! Why did you say that name?!’” Sterling fake-yelled, trying his best deep voice, cracking at the end. The two stallions both laughed their flanks off, “What’s really sad is that only if they waited a few more movies, it might had been actually good.”

“Yeah. You make one cinematic universe and suddenly, everypony wanting to make their own.” Caboose sighed, “But do you really want to know which movie is really bad in a good way?!”

“Oh, I can tell you without a doubt what that is!” Sterling smirked.

"'Ponies At Work'!" They both chorused.

"No way!" Caboose gaped. "You like that movie too?"

"Sure do." Sterling nodded. "I know someponies think it's lousy, but I like the humor!"

“Yeah, and it has Charlie Bean! Before he bucked up his gig on Two And A Half Ponies!” Caboose grinned.

“Oh yeah! I would chop off my hoof again just to see it again!” Sterling smiled.

“Why chop it off?! I think we might have a copy! Wanna find it and watch it?!”

"Try and stop me!" Sterling grinned.

“Then come on, Grant Ward!” Caboose ran off.

“Grant Ward…” Sterling paused for a moment, before shrugging as he ran after him, “Heh, not the worst thing I’ve been called.”

The two rushed over to the lounge, and after finding that movie, as well as some other notoriously bad films, they spent the next few hours watching them, laughing and groaning at all the bad acting, bad effects, and all the quotable lines.
Soon, Luna’s moon was rising over the headquarters, and the two succumbed to tiredness.

“Heh, no matter how many times I watch ‘Trolls 2’, I can never forget that fly on that pony’s face when he’s saying ‘Oh My Faust!’” Sterling admitted with a tired grin.

“Well, I can’t tell you how many bad guys I killed while yelling ‘Garbage Day!’ when I was younger.” Caboose smiled, “Didn’t even have to be garbage day. I just love saying it!”

“Yeah… well, I guess it’s time to turn in for the night.” Sterling shook his head, picking up his sword that he set at the side of his seat.

"Yep." Caboose yawned. "It was real fun hanging out with you, Sterling. We really should do this again sometime."

"We really should." Sterling smiled warmly, “You're a great guy, Caboose. A little weird, but great."

"I don't know why, but I get that a lot." Caboose shrugged.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised." Sterling chuckled.

As the two left the room, they bumped into Master Mind and Incognito.

"Hey, guys." Caboose smiled.

"Hello, Caboose." Master Mind said curtly. "And... Sterling?"

"Hey." Sterling nodded.

"You two have been... hanging out?" Incognito asked.

"Yeah." Caboose grinned. "We've been havin' a ton of fun. You guys should join us next time."

"I'll... consider it." Master Mind frowned.

"Maybe, yeah." Incognito said awkwardly. "But right now, I'm just beat."

"I, too, am tired." Master Mind agreed. "Time to turn, I think."

"That's the plan for me, too." Sterling declared. "Night, fellas."

"Good night." Master Mind said politely.

"Yeah, see ya." Incognito said flatly.

"Don't forget to let me know the next you're available for movie night." Caboose added.

"Will do, pal." Sterling grinned, as he walked down the corridors to his quarters.

Not long after, Sterling was climbing into bed, feeling deep satisfaction over the events of the day. He had finally managed to befriend one of his new teammates. While he held no illusions that the others could be so easily swayed, he took comfort in the fact that he at least wouldn't have to stand alone among them anymore. At the very least, Caboose was in his corner.

'Maybe things are starting to look up for me after all...' Sterling thought, just before he drifted off to sleep.

Comments

[danick]

Hah nice one

My favorite bad movies is the Street Fighter movie