Earning Freedom

by Daxisle

Mandylion's Warning

Mandylion's Warning

Malich watched with cold, dead eyes as the roaring flames incinerated the cavern, along with the countless walking corpses within.

The undead were a growing problem, the general public was slowly becoming aware of the threat. His news stations had received countless letters and pictures of wandering corpses attacking small towns, killing hundreds of New Equine citizens. Luckily, the reports of the attacks were only in the state of North New Equine. Still, at least a thousand ponies were dead, and it would only be a matter of time until the government began to ask questions.

'Forget the Government, dude. What if your father finds out?'

Snarling, Malich shook his head. Gemini probably already knew, he was just keeping to himself on the matter. The vice president understood just how few of his agents were loyal to him over his father, those precious few he could truly trust and confide in.

The extermination and investigation into the necromancy was carried out in the Shadow Ops, a branch that Malich had developed personally. Unlike the typical Triple M. CCC (Confine, Contain, Command) the Shadow Ops didn't wait for orders. They were a branch free of restriction post intricate and detailed objectives. Of course, collateral damage was to be expected, they had no official existence within Triple M. nor any other organization.

As far as the public was concerned, all of the effort Triple M. was making was to protect the major cities and towns from the threat. Whatever carnage the Shadow Ops unleashed was not the responsibility of the company. Luckily, no major metropolitans had been hit, but that didn't mean they wouldn't soon be.

"Malich." An icy, somewhat metallic voice breathed from behind. The stallion turned to regard the black, covered pony behind him. It's head was covered in a thick black helmate, a narrow red visor being the only means of sight. The entirety of its body was covered in thick black leather meant to withstand any biting or scratching the undead could unleash. "Objectives complete, the cavern is clear of all necromance."

"Excellent work, Number one, stand by." Malich replied carefully. Hearing the breathing of the Black Ops agents through their respirators always made the grey stallion uneasy. It served as a constant reminder just how dangerous they were and how much power they had.

Scouts had been scrambling for a month straight. Searching, checking every last nook and cranny for the Necromancer who'd dared to kill his countrymen. No leave requests were honored, home time was kept to a bear minimum and every effort to keep the public in the dark was expended. Malich even shelved his beloved New Wave project so his staff could devote their time to a cure for the magicks, or at least find a way to track it.

There really wasn't much of a point to bringing in a new era if he didn't have control over it. Malich even swallowed his pride and set up a meeting with his most revered of enemies. The Liberty Syndicate.

Speaking of which, it he needed to head out now if he was going to make that meeting.

---

Pacing in circles, Malich continually glanced between his four escorts and his pocket watch. Ten minutes until the designated meeting time, and not a single tan cloak in any direction. The executive paced around a little more, his nerves starting to get the best of him.

He hadn't seen his grandfather in years, ever since the old pony abandoned he and his father had re-written the ethical codes of conduct in dealing with immigrants. Mandylion was almost persuaded to abandon his father's edit, the older pony being a very persuasive and silver tongued snake, if Gemini hadn't been there to reinforce Malich's will, he was certain he wouldn't have gone through with it.

Though, what would he expect? He was a young stallion back then. Young and weak of mind, easily swayed by gentle and firm words. Words that preyed on both an individuals logic and their emotions at once, a skill hard to master. Usually, one either became logically minded or emotionally minded when it came to argumentation. The cold and rational or the warm and sensing, the other trait was there to be sure, but one was always more prominent.

Mandylion had managed to somehow make both prominent and didn't rely any more on one than the other.

While it was universally better to be seen as logically minded, the appeal to emotion had it's edge. Not only could one make a case against an issue of disagreement with another, but they could rip apart the individual's character, guilt them into submission and over all destroy self confidence all at once. Turning the public against it's own heros and once loyal allies into dangerous enemies.

And he was about to engage the stallion who'd perfected the art.

Trembling, Malich took a shuttering breath as he checked his watch again. Two minutes. He looked around, seeing nothing around for miles. Nothing but grass, a few trees and his escort. Part of him hoped Mandylion wouldn't show, he knew how dangerous the stallion was; the stories and reports about how he'd turned almost an entire town against Triple M. agents was legendary. Most of the members of Liberty Syndicate were comprised of his personal involvement.

Estimates of the membership's size staggered in the thousands, spanning all across the Federation. While many were individualists by nature, Malich couldn't imagine how someone was convinced to make an enemy of a corporation capable of not only killing them, but their friends, family and reputation.

"Ten O'clock, Mr. Malich." One of his escorts said, bringing the stallion a wave of relief. "Maybe he's a no show."

That was a possibility, the letter he got back from his grandfather did specify that his presence was a shakey probability.

"Or maybe he's been here the entire time."

Malich jumped, his escort drawing their weapons and circling the executive.

A moment later, small simmers distorted the air around them as five figures began to materialize from thin air directly in front of them. Two unicorns, two earth ponies and a pegasus.

"Hello, Grandson." A tan clad stallion greeted with a slight smile as he strode up to the grassy hillside of the Vale. Malich took notice of the four other ponies in light brown capes that accompanied the old pony, capes signifying membership of the Liberty Syndicate. Though, they were of little interest compared to the one who stood before him.

"Grandpa Mandylion." Malich replied politely, signalling his escort at ease. The stallion had changed since they'd last met. The old earth pony's mane was completely white now, parts of his neck were also a lighter shade of grey, but his slightly green eyes remained as lively and knowing as ever. "Thank you for coming. I know our organizations haven't always seen eye to eye, but there's a bigger problem to attend to."

"Heh, straight down to business, just like your father." The old pony smirked, making a motion with his leg that compelled his comrades to sit down. His face turned serious and Malich could feel the air around him become just a bit heavier. No matter how much his mercenaries developed it, they could never quite match the aura that Mandylion himself had created. "I'm a little surprised you came to us for help, though."

The business pony nodded, it wasn't often Triple M. couldn't handle business themselves, but this was a new threat. A threat that they'd considered planning scenarios for, but never followed through out of how unbelievably vile and absurd they thought the idea to be. The Federation was a neutral country, no other nation had any reason to commit acts of war against them. Any single individual using this type of magic was also not seen as a plausibility.

How mistaken they were.

The formalities over, Malich cut to the point. The tests that they had run on the still living undead concluded that the magic being used was not unicorn in nature, but they did match up to the alchemy of Zeborica. It couldn't be said 100%, as magical signatures could be altered, but evidence did suggest a zebra was responsible. Perhaps multiple.

Mandylion closed his eyes in a sage like manner. "Yes, the Tal'Derime."

"You know of them?" Malich asked, slightly surprised.

"Mmm, it's funny what one may accomplish and learn when they attempt to use diplomacy instead of force." The elder earth pony replied pointedly, much to Malich's annoyance. "The Tal'Derime are a cultist group within the Zeborican nations. They were a group dedicated to eradicating the Nizilthu threat from their people, using the bodies of their fallen comrades to fight them in a way only the dead could."

"Nizilthu?"

Mandylion frowned, his eyes becoming hard and aggressive. "You would call them 'Changlings'." Malich's eyes went wide. "Changelings cannot infect the dead, they cannot feed on the emotions of the dead, and with the fall of any Zeborican, the oath of service after life is given as a final wish to protect their families and clans." He shook his head. "Which is why I find it strange that the cult would be active here. The Tal'Derime necromancers have no purpose in the Federation. Though I may not like the methods you and my son may use, you have been successful in keeping the parasite from the country."

Malich furrowed his brow and made a thoughtful sound. The Zebras consented to post death service?

'That's what you're thinking about? How about the fact that these 'Tal'Derime' MIGHT have an idea about what you're doing and are summoning the undead?!'

"Forgive me, Mr. Malich, but perhaps it's revenge?" One of his escorts suggested, speaking out of turn. Words would be had about that.

"Perhaps." Mandylion pondered, placing a hoof up to his chin in thought before eyeing his grandson. "Or maybe some Nizilthu are in the country somewhere."

The young executive gave his best glare. He knew what Mandylion was getting at, but it would look suspicious to say it outright. "You think we've let some changelings in? I assure you, the Orvalian Infection is still fresh enough to keep all of my-"

"Do not play dumb with me, boy." Mandylion interrupted in a soft but forceful voice. "I was referring to the refugees a few of your chariots had collected from the Orvalian coast a few months ago."

'Shit! How the fuck does he know about that!?'

Obviously one of our agents is a traitor feeding information, or they weren't as careful as they should have been.

Already making a mental not to call in the team who'd carried out that mission, Malich had to make a reply that was both in character and didn't give him away. "I'm sorry?" He asked, acting both surprised a little perturbed. "I'm afraid I have no clue what you're referring to, could you elaborate what you saw?"

It was years of acting made into one single moment of brilliance. His tone, his facial structure, the movement of his eyes and ears were all spot on with his attempt to convince his grandfather of his lack of involvement.

Mandylion held his knowing smirk for another few seconds before it fell, leading to an internal celebration that Malich had finally matched his deception skills with the perception of his grandfather.

"Malich, I want you to listen to me, and listen closely." The old pony lowered his head, giving a powerful stare that reached into Malich's very soul. "I don't know what you're planning to do with the Nizilthu but until you are rid of them, the Tal'Derime will never stop their conversion of the dead. I have spoken with chiefs from many of the zebra clans. There are hundreds, maybe thousands of members of the cult here. None of them know who the active necromancers are, but if they gain followers we will have a crisis that dwarfs the changeling infection one hundred fold. The death count could be in the millions before it's brought under control."

By the end of his speech, the young stallion felt two feet tall and was running short of breath. The oppressive aura had magnified with every single word his grandfather spoke. Malich could feel his legs trembling beneath him, ready to give out and sending the him to the ground in a terrified and exposed heap. He could feel his inner defenses waning as he started into the light green eyes of his kin, judging his soul, searching through his mind. Ripping, tearing and shredding through the useless memories of his life to find what the old pony was looking for.

Just as his will was about to give out and the pony come clean with everything he'd done and had planned to do, Mandylion broke eye contact, lifting the invisible and suffocating presence the stallion withstood. He was so disturbed by what he'd just experienced, he didn't even realize his grandfather was now infront of him, placing a gentle hoof upon his shoulder.

"Malich. Ever since your mother left, you've always been much harder and more cunning. You lacked guidance and sought power to make up for that which you could not control."

His body tensing from the truth he long denied, the younger earth pony cringed. The words his grandfather spoke cutting his heart, their absolution convincing him of their truth.

"But don't let that desire for power control you." He said, his voice raising to that of a father talking to his son. "Your father has placed it into your head that results are the most important thing in the world. That all expenditures of life are acceptable if it means accomplishing your goals. What you must come to find is that the ends don't always justify the means, grandson."

Despite his gut telling him not to, the young pony slowly turned to look Mandylion in the eye.

"Tell me, has your father found happiness in the life he's chosen for himself? Was he ever able to move past Malina?" Malich looked away, not even wanting to think about his broken family or missing mother. "He hasn't has he? With all that he has become, with all the power he has, do you think he's happy?"

'No! He's a miserable old bastard who does nothing but sit in his office all day!'

"Is that how you want your life? Malich?" He asked when no answer came forth.

He couldn't believe what had happened here. Him, Malich Islander, the Vice fucking President of the most powerful corporation in the entire Federation, the stallion who'd slain three undead by himself, The one who stood alone against the senate on countless occasion, the Ruby Rider, the mastermind of his plans for Anarchy, was reduced to a speechless foal being lectured.

He searched for something in his mind, anything to say at all. He couldn't answer the question about happiness, it wasn't something he'd ever concerned himself with. His plans were all that mattered, his plans would bring him contentment! Happiness? That was a fleeting thing! An idea others wasted their lives chasing. He wanted accomplishment! Accomplishment that would only come through being cunning and having power.

"You've got me there, grandpa. I haven't been happy for as long as I can remember. Neither has my father, nor my brother." His eye flicked to see Mandylion quirk a brow.

"Sin? You've seen him?"

That look, that split second of surprise and uncertainty was all his mind needed. It told him that Mandylion wasn't all knowing, that his knowledge didn't extend past the realms of reality. No, Mandylion, for all of his cunning and intelligence both in logic and emotion was still just a pony. A pony who'd mastered the aura and used it to manipulate and project himself to be greater than what he truly was.

"Tell me something, if the zebras summon the dead only to fight Changelings. Than why are they attacking and killing the living?" That didn't push the elder pony in the slightest, but that was okay. The psychological mindfuck that accompanied the pony's presence was broken well enough now. Malich knew the answer, it was customary in the Federation to cremate the dead, only those of wealth could afford to be buried and put in a graveyard.

Still though, the first to die and be resurrected were Triple M agents, weren't they? There was no way any zebra could have known about the changelings, Mandylion may have, but with his knowledge of the cult and their intentions, what possible reason would he have to say anything? No, no this wasn't about the changelings, this was about the Zeboricans taking revenge on Triple M. If this was about the parasitic invaders, than why hadn't there been any attacks on the complex? Wouldn't it make more sense for the damned to attacked his company's facilities rather than randoms towns?

No, this was terrorism, terrorism on a country who'd allowed the zebra into it's borders and away from a life of threat and uncertainty and Malich made sure his the elder earth pony heard his logic on the matter.

With a defeated and graceful sigh, Mandylion stepped back and rejoined his associates. "You disappoint me, I was truly hoping to end this before it began." For some reason, those words angered Malich and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from ordering his men slaughter the Syndicate members. "We shall continue our search of the necromancers. But Malich, I implore you to see reason this day. Should we fail in our endeavor and the Tal'Derime become more powerful, countless will die. And there will be no victory in that for any of us."

Malich didn't reply, he didn't even think on the words. Triple M. was a powerful mega-corp and they'd find a way to stop whatever threatened their country. Of that he was confident.

With a gesture of his hoof, the two unicorns ignited their horns at once and the entire troop vanished in a blink of white.

With their departure, Malich heard his escort collapse into labored breathing. "You guys alright?" He asked, genuinely concerned for their health. Unlike him, they'd never encountered the aura at it's most powerful, some of the weaker minded ponies even went mad from it.

"Fine... just... wow." The leader replied through labored breaths. Luckily, Malich didn't employ the weak minded.

Once they'd managed to get their breathing and minds under control, Malich gave orders. He ordered every last K-9 unit from all over the country to be recalled, given access on an undead, and sent to search the country side. After that, he gave a second order, this one giving pause to every single one of his escorts.

He wanted Thanatos reassembled and brought to where Reco-2 had been found. He was going to make an example of the Zebras and send a clear message that the use of Necromancy upon the citizens of the Federation, that these Tal'Derime, would not be tolerated.

Author's Note:

+10 to anyone who gets the reference.

When Necromancy is used for a good cause turned bad.

Comments are always appreciated.

Comments

[RadicalDishonesty]

While many were individualists by nature, Malich couldn't imagine how someone was convinced to an enemy of a corporation capable of not only killing them, but their friends, family and reputation.

Maybe because that whole idea horrifies them?

I like that Malich comes into the conversation assuming he has all the pieces in place to finally beat out his grandfather, but instead finds out that his grandfather has a very accurate grasp on the situation, including the things Malich thinks he's hiding.

Oh. And Malich refuses to take any blame whatsoever for causing the situation that creates "terrorists." Sounds like nothing I've ever heard to me!

[Daxisle]

6583663 Typo from me: "how someone was convinced to become* an enemy of a corporation..."

Yea, it's a subtle thing, but I'm glad someone caught it. So, +5 to you there.