Breakfast at Celestia's

by Voss-Corsair

Chapter Four

Voss could feel the hard marble floor against his aching body as the stun spell began to wear off. He tried to move his numb limbs and wings to no avail. He shook his tail back into life and wiped his watery eyes with it to clear his vision.

He vainly gripped at the tape over his beak then tried to make an equally ineffective attempt to alert the guards.

The sound of the chamber door perked up his ears. Then the bathroom door opened to the sight of a smirking copy of Voss.

“Here's your old souvenir. Celestia loved it!”

Voss let out a muffled yelp as he felt the quill stab into his wing.

“Great reports you have here. I like those classified ones you picked up in Baltimare about logistical capabilities of Equestria's military as well.” said Bookish Ledger,

The yelp became a muted howl as he felt a sharp tug and twist to his tail.

The sounds of the doors being opened then closed indicated that the chamber was now vacant. Unsettling thoughts of what damage an impersonator could do shocked him to his core. With his long tail, he began feeling around the top of the sink for any object he could grab. Sharp pain cut through his entire body as he struggled against the fractures several tail bones had suffered.

He soon found a glass bottle of mouthwash and dashed it against the marble floor as hard as he could. He judged by the slight echo that the bathroom door was open and in with a chance of raising the alarm.

Unsure if that was enough, he began bending his limbs to bring himself up against the sink to reach the rope. His suitably hooked beak easily snagged onto the thick rope and began attacking it. He strained at the fibres but it was soon clear it could not be frayed without full use of his beak. Another idea sprung to mind.

Unable to see where the bottle had impacted, he pushed through the pain and patted the floor with his tail until he managed to pick up a shard. He tried to scratch it along the floor to make an unpleasant noise, but his tail grip gave out.

A painfully shrill screech filled the bathroom as Voss scraped the point of his beak down the porcelain.

After two more of those ear-splitting manoeuvrers, he heard a knock on the chamber door followed by the muffled enquiries of a guard.

Voss responded with another assault to the ears.

The knocking resumed for a moment. Twice more, Voss sent out his improvised signal.

All of a sudden, a guard and General Rough Shod burst into the chamber.

“Voss!?” he gasped, “Raise the alarm! The other Voss and Bookish must be Changelings!”

“Yes sir!” responded the guard as he hurried off,

The General quickly set about freeing the griffon from his binds and peeled off the tape.

“Thank Boreas you're here!” Voss exclaimed, “We've got to find them! They took my classified documents!”

“We're already on it.” Rough Shod helped him up, “Are you alright?”

“Don't worry about me. I'll get my griffs to join the search.”

Voss dashed over to his suitcases and whipped out his C86 pistol from its wooden holster that doubled up as a stock. He frantically scooped up several stripper clips of seven millimetre bullets

“You can take that with you, but Celestia is going to be seriously miffed you smuggled that in.” warned the General.

The castle was bustling with activity as guards scrambled to lock down important areas. Voss and Rough Shod met up with the griffon guests who were scrambling for their previously turned in pistols.

“Really, sir?” said the officer that had questioned Faux Voss's actions, “You packed that too?”

“We don't have time for that, Major Béarn. Where's my pocket pistol?”

“The other Voss checked it out, sir.” said one of the guards as he passed the Béarn her compact pistol.

Voss sighed and quickly used the clips to fill the magazines. He then slammed a twenty round mag in place and cocked the machine pistol.

“Form up into pairs, pick a Royal Guard and follow their lead.” ordered Voss as he clipped his machine pistol to its stock, “Move out!”

Comments

[Godiswithus3]

Search and destroy. Love those kinds of missions.