CRISIS: Equestria

by GanonFLCL

CRISIS: Equestria - Chapter Nine

CRISIS: Equestria

Chapter Nine: Introductions

Silvertongue stared into his personal mirror, scowling at the sight of the unicorn on the other side. Yesterday, he would have gazed upon his visage, a testament to everything he believed in, with an air of pride. But, from this day forward, he knew that he’d see that something had been robbed from him, something he would never see again upon that face.

Perfection.

Doctor Blutsauger’s commendable work at repairing everything around his eye genuinely surprised him. In a rare moment of bewilderment, he had actually praised the good Doctor’s talent. No scars marred his face, his coat was as sleek and shiny as ever, and barring one single detail, he could swear that nothing had happened at all. But then, of course, that detail taunted him. Reminded him of what he’d lost.

A strange darkness filled the void where Silvertongue’s eye had once been; a black, ethereal stuff that drew all warmth from the air. A tiny speck of gold broke up the otherwise solid darkness, and where he looked, it moved. He could see clearly through it, more clearly than his original eye had ever been able. The speck pulsed with magic that he was not intimately familiar with, though he felt the similarity between it and the magic that Twilight Sparkle’s clone contained within her.

A buzz from his intercom interrupted his thoughts.

“Ah... right on schedule,” he said. He set his mirror upon his desk, then pressed a button on the intercom. “Yes?”

“Milord, sir? Commander Jetstream is here to deliver his report on the Gate incident.”

“Thank you, Shroud. Send him in.”

Silvertongue lifted his wine glass and took a short sip, then leaned back in his chair and tapped his hooves together. His chamber door slid open; Jetstream entered the room. Though Jetstream’s pace was brisk and his expression alert, his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.

Jetstream quickly bowed before Silvertongue’s desk. His nervousness was palpable. “M-milord.”

Silvertongue stared at Jetstream, unblinking, for several moments, not even gesturing for the soldier to rise from his bow. “Commander,” he said. “You look as though you’ve had a rough morning.”

Jetstream remained bowed, as Silvertongue had yet to permit him to do otherwise. “I apologize, sir, if my appearance isn’t in ideal condition.”

“Ideal condition. No, I suppose nopony can maintain that forever.” Silvertongue snorted and sat upright in his chair, at last gesturing for the soldier to rise. Jetstream did so, taking a sharp breath in the process. “I understand you are here to deliver the report on how the assignment you were tasked with went?”

Jetstream gulped. “Yes sir, you asked that I deliver it as soon as I was able.”

Silvertongue set his hooves upon his desk and tilted his head to the portfolio resting between them. “Now, you know well that my sources of information are speedy and accurate. So, I am assuming you also know that I am already well aware of your failure?”

“Milord, I can expla—"

Silvertongue’s horn glowed brighter for half a second. His wine glass shattered, splashing magmaberry wine on the floor beneath. “Excuses!”

Jetstream flinched back half a step.

Silvertongue took a deep breath and smoothed his mane back. “You can make excuses you mean. Save them. I have no concern for how you failed, only that you did. I can assemble the pieces satisfactorily with this,” he noted, gesturing again to the portfolio.

He opened it with his magic and began to read. “According to the Gate Taskforce Report, the Gate suffered massive technical difficulties this morning on multiple fronts. Gate Technicians have been performing maintenance and repairs since the incident.”

Silvertongue twisted his chair to the side so he could stare out the open window. “Now, the first issue seems to be that the check-in station improperly authorized seven ponies using falsified passports, and two using invalidated ones. Seven unauthorized passports, hmm? Lucky then, it would seem, that somepony was able to uncover that fact ahead of time, else these criminals may have escaped unhindered.” He thrummed his hoof slowly on his desk. “A shame he couldn’t complete his own assignment.”

Jetstream gulped loudly. “R-right, sir. Shadowstep’s information proved useful here. I regret that I could not access the system in time to spring the trap before they got as far into the corridor as they did.”

Silvertongue spun his chair back, and spat at Jetstream, his voice terse, nearly cracking. “When the error was discovered, the Gate was immediately sealed around the ponies in question, and a special task unit was deployed to apprehend them. Now here, this is where it becomes interesting. The unit's assigned leader never arrived at the scene, as he had been replaced by one Commander Jetstream.” His stopped rapping his hoof, slamming it once on the desk. “The Taskforce made a note here that it seemed suspicious that a Special Ops officer showed interest in unauthorized ponies, none of whom were particularly remarkable.”

He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. His new eye was starting to agitate him, but he knew not why. He absently picked a pen off his desk and twirled it around in his magic, becoming distracted by a fly that had somehow buzzed into the room.

Jetstream hesitated, then quietly cleared his throat. “S-sir?”

“Really now Jetstream, have I not made myself clear about subtlety? This kind of sloppiness is quite... bothersome.”

“I had little choice, milord, you made it clear that time was of the essence,” Jetstream explained, his eyes darting between Silvertongue and the pen. “The other commander was an idiot, a real rules-jockey. He claimed it was his unit, fair and square, and showed a complete disregard for authority. I persuaded him to reconsider his decision.”

Silvertongue grunted in acknowledgement. “The unauthorized ponies were confronted by Commander Jetstream’s unit, and subsequently engaged by them in turn when they attempted to resist arrest. During the altercation, they hacked into the Gate security system. Now, which of them did this?”

Jetstream rubbed the back of his neck. “I was engaged at the time with the NPPD Captain, so I only caught a glimpse of what happened. I’m certain it was the green and purple unicorns, Tick Tock and Twilight Sparkle, respectively.”

Silvertongue snapped the pen at the wall, skewering the pesky fly and embedding it in the wall. “The damned Chronomancer again!” He took a few short breaths, then leaned back in his chair again. “I am beginning to tire of her interferences.”

He glanced back at the portfolio. “At any rate, they managed to disable the anti-magic field around the Sector Nine door, and then proceeded to rip it open by force. How did they manage that? Each Gate section weighs several hundred tons.”

“It was all three unicorns, sir,” Jetstream explained. “They combined their magic somehow. I... I didn't know unicorns could do that, or I would’ve focused my attention on them.”

“It is a rather advanced spell, yes, but certainly not out of the limits of a unicorn with the drive and talent to learn. They showed aptitude in that feat, did they? I shall keep it in mind for future reference. If they already know how to perform it, then perhaps...”

Silvertongue shook his head. “After breaking apart the Gate, the nine ponies fled out into the Wastelands. Now, does that all sound accurate?”

“Y-yes milord, but—"

Silvertongue sighed and absently went to remove and clean his monocle, before remembering he no longer needed or wore one. “I assigned you a very simple task, Jetstream. At least, I thought it was simple, but it is slowly becoming clear to me that anything involving those particular ponies is far from being simple.” He leaned forward, his mouth curling in a scowl. “So here we are, because you have failed. I dislike failure, Jetstream.”

Jetstream dropped to his knees. “P-please, milord, give me a second chance.”

“If memory serves, I do not have a history of granting second chances,” Silvertongue snorted. “History and reputation have ensured that that remains the case.”

“B-but sir, I—"

Silvertongue shook his head and began thumping his hoof on his desk again. “Jetstream... Jetstream, Jetstream, Jetstream. How long have you been directly in my employ? Twelve... no, thirteen years? Your father recommended you. In that time, you have never once failed me, never once disappointed me. Until today. Fortunate for your father that this failure of yours does not reflect any incompetence on his part.”

“Thank you for that, sir,” Jetstream said.

“Now, Shadowstep, you remember him don't you?”

Jetstream nodded.

“I gave him a second chance. A very rare opportunity. He squandered it, to be sure, but he got one all the same. Do you know why? He earned it. Despite his failure, he did still manage to come through on a great deal of things that made up for some slight complications.”

Silvertongue slammed his hooves on his desk, and his horn flared a bright red.

Jetstream was slammed into the nearest wall. He instantly grabbed at his throat, which was surrounded by a red aura.

“You, unfortunately, have not earned that privilege.”

“P-please... m-milord,” Jetstream choked.

Silvertongue sneered, and got out of his chair. He slowly strode over to Jetstream’s place on the wall. “Your failure, Jetstream, has forced me to accelerate my plans much more quickly than I desired.”

He jerked Jetstream and slammed him into the wall again. “Your failure has caused damage which cannot be easily repaired!”

He flung Jetstream across the room, where the pegasus crashed into the mantlepiece. “And, you have absolutely nothing positive to show for it, no sort of bandage to place over this great, gaping wound of incompetence. I do not tolerate such failures, Jetstream. I erase them. I should kill you right now.”

Jetstream grasped desperately at his throat. “Sir... please...”

Silvertongue lifted Jetstream into the air and glowered at him for a moment. Then, he released him, dropping the pegasus to the floor.

Jetstream gulped in air like a freshly caught fish.

Silvertongue’s mouth curled in a tiny grin. “But, I won't. No, I have a better use for you.”

***

Lord Silvertongue had called it a weapons test. An opportunity for Jetstream to redeem himself and earn his second chance. That eccentric Doctor Blutsauger had been present when Silvertongue went over what the test would entail, so he figured this was another one of the Doctor’s freakish genetic experiments. But, that was not what really bothered him. No, it was the conditions that were strange.

Aside from being a guinea pig for whatever fool experiment the Doctor had conducted, Jetstream wasn't even sure what he was supposed to be doing. Blutsauger had called him target practice. He’d been corralled in this room, a grand, circular arena, within the basement levels of Pandora Tower, wide enough to hold a hundred ponies comfortably. He’d also been provided with forty A.M.P. Troopers to command. His opponents would be set loose against him one at a time, and it was his duty to ensure that they were given a proper challenge.

One? Against forty troopers? That wasn’t a challenge, that was downright suicidal. Blutsauger must’ve been exceedingly confident in his new toys. He’d even gone as far as boasting that, should Jetstream run out of troopers to use, he’d be provided with replacements.

The Doctor’s preening did not concern Jetstream at all. Blutsauger had always been a pompous ass and a supreme brown-noser. He’d put him in his place, earn his redemption, and make his father proud.

The thick, iron gate on the opposite side of the arena creaked open, and his first opponent trotted into the arena.

Jetstream was not expecting the first of Blutsauger’s genetic weapons to be a perfectly ordinary mare. Well, maybe not ordinary. She was built larger than the average female pegasus—larger than even some male pegasi—standing slightly taller than himself. Her bulky, muscular frame filled out the plain-looking silver jumpsuit that covered only her body, not her legs, exposing her royal blue coat. Her wild mane and tail alternated between turquoise and magenta, making her look like some sort of glam rocker. Each hoof wore a metal boot, and the arena’s stadium lights reflected off of the decorative red and gold gems. Her cutie mark was a storm cloud with a thin streak of golden lightning through it.

Jetstream was bothered by one thing, rather two things, in particular: her eyes. He knew he’d seen somepony before with almost those exact same eyes. Plus, her large wings made him feel both self-conscious and confoundingly aroused. He’d never seen a pegasus before with such an impressive wingspan.

She wasn’t really doing much of anything aside from just standing there rigidly, staring ahead, not looking at all like she was prepared for combat. Her face was the epitome of boredom. Wasn’t she supposed to be attacking his soldiers? What was she waiting for?

More tense moments of silence lingered between them before Jetstream decided he’d make the first move instead. He placed his hoof to his temple, clicking some buttons on the command visor he’d been provided to increase his response time.

Ten of his troops moved in on her at his command, merely a scouting maneuver to gauge the combat level of his target. He’d applied extra soldiers out of a sense of curiosity, as typically he’d have only used three or four. There was no sense in paranoia, but being cocky wasn’t wise either.

She remained still, though her eyes darted between each of the troopers that approached her.

Jetstream commanded his troops to activate their static-charged hoof-guards. He’d been given permission to use one-hundred percent lethal force, so he figured he may as well utilize it. He wanted to see what she would do.

Each soldier, charged with enough electricity to kill a pony four times over, leapt into action.

She flapped her wings just once. All ten mechanical ponies slowed to a crawl, as if struggling against their own weight.

Impossible. That was the only word Jetstream could think of to describe what he was seeing. A pegasus pony, using unicorn magic? No, there wasn’t a glow around his troops, nor around whatever part of her body was channeling the magic. It didn’t add up. Pegasus magic had no visual clues excepting the faster fliers, who left trails of magic behind them, but she wasn’t flying at all. What sort of magic was this?

The soldier at the front of the formation took another step forward. Its leg snapped apart as if it couldn’t support its own weight. The soldier stumbled forward, breaking into pieces as it hit the floor. The other soldiers in the formation stepped forward, stumbled, and shattered just as the first had.

Ten troopers down, and the target had hardly even put any visible effort into destroying them. She hadn’t even moved, apart from flapping her wings.

Her demeanor infuriated Jetstream. She looked bored, and she even gave an exaggerated yawn.

He tapped a hoof to his temple again, issuing orders for another ten soldiers to circle her. He hoped that whatever magic she’d used could only be applied to a small area; by surrounding her, his troops could not all be affected at once.

Predictably, she took to the air and climbed all the way up to the high ceiling, far out of the reach of his troopers. At least, she would be, if they were only capable of melee combat.

Jetstream laughed quietly to himself. Typical pegasus tactics. So predictable.

He tapped his visor again and his troopers armed their shoulder-mounted flechette launchers.

They aimed upwards, locking-on to their target. They fired their sharp-tipped bullets in a steady stream.

The mare flicked her wings again, losing altitude only briefly.

Not a single round reached its target. Instead, the projectiles curved sharply back towards the ground as if they hadn’t even been fired with enough force to reach that height. Some of the bullets dropped down and impaled the troopers that had fired them, striking with an unnatural amount of force.

Then, she took the offensive.

She tucked her wings in against her sides and dove at the group of soldiers. She slammed her hooves into the ground, bouncing off the metal floor with enough impact to leave a massive dent.

The shockwave was enough to make Jetstream and his remaining soldiers stumble. He’d never claimed to be a physicist, but he was fairly sure what he’d just seen was physically impossible. For her to hit with that much impact, she’d need to weigh at least a ton, and worse, she should have been reduced to paste. Must be those boots she’s wearing. Are they enchanted or something?

She flapped her wings and made to take to the air again, until a voice crackled over the arena’s speakers. Both Jetstream and the mare turned to face the tinted window on the far side of the room where they knew Silvertongue was observing from.

“Grayscale Force. That’s enough for now. I’ve seen what I needed to see.”

The mare nodded, then gave Jetstream a look that made him feel incredibly small. He knew she’d made his soldiers look like toys, and had treated them as such. Would this affect his odds at being given a second chance? He swore right then and there that the next opponent he faced would not make a fool of him.

As Grayscale Force started to leave, the next pony, another pegasus mare wearing the same silver jumpsuit, entered the arena. She was toned with more lean muscle than the other pegasus, clearly built more for agility than power. Her coat was a sporty red, very bright and colorful compared to the other pegasus. Her mane and tail resembled a skunk, jet black with a streak of white down the center. She kept her mane short and wavy, though her tail was still rather long and dragged against the floor behind her. Her cutie mark was a bat wing attached to a flame.

Most curious of all, she had a tiny fang that jutted out of her mouth and rested on her lower lip. There’s something wrong with this picture. Since when do ponies have canines?

Grayscale Force began to pass her by, then stopped, turned, and offered a hoof to shake. “Best of luck to you, I suppose. I know I set the standards high.”

The red mare didn’t look at her, keeping her beady eyes directed at Jetstream. “Get away from me,” she said, spitting a little. “I don't need your damn loser-ness rubbing off and ruining my run.”

Unfazed, Grayscale gave a small shrug, then continued on her way through the iron gate.

Jetstream nervously shifted in place. One opponent—one pony—took half a platoon of A.M.P. Troopers and made them look like nothing. He grit his teeth and signaled for a replenishment of his forces, which entered the arena from the gate behind him and moved into formation. This time, he wouldn’t fail.

Unlike Grayscale, this pegasus made the first move, taking to the air and racing straight into the heart of the largest formation of soldiers. She was very loud, shouting, hollering, and especially swearing, the entire time.

She looped around and slammed her hoof into one soldier’s visor, shattering it. Before it could react, she sped away and kicked another in the midsection.

One trooper raised a hoof, preparing to strike her with a lethal electric shock. She swerved under it and kicked out its legs.

But, every one she managed to take down only stayed that way for a moment. Her tactics were hardly working against the mechanical soldiers that had been built to take this sort of abuse.

Jetstream chuckled to himself as his confidence returned. This mare clearly didn’t have the same strange powers the other had used. Why Blutsauger would empower one mare but not another was perplexing, but it would be the Doctor’s own folly. Jetstream tapped his visor again, ordering more troops to close in.

The red mare seemed to realize she’d made a mistake by charging in. She pulled out, looping high into the air.

The soldiers took aim with their flechette launchers, and fired.

She abruptly snapped skyward, like a missile, narrowly avoiding a salvo of bullets. Jetstream balked at her sudden burst of speed.

She swept low to the ground, and one of her hooves started glowing orange. There was a spark, followed by a flame. The red mare fired it forward like a bullet at one of the troopers.

The tiny fireball exploded spectacularly, sending strips of shrapnel flying every which way. Jetstream staggered back, dumbstruck. More magic? How is this possible?

She fired another fireball and blew apart another soldier, then flew through the explosion undeterred, cackling all the way. She looped around and fired another, and another. The bursts were getting bigger with every shot.

Jetstream was losing troopers fast. He shook off his stupor and tapped his visor. His troopers took aim and fired once more.

The mare swept around in rolls and loops, nimbly avoiding all of the salvo. A few rounds came close, so close that Jetstream had to resist the urge to tear his visor off his face and throw it to the ground in frustration.

She did not look at all happy about nearly getting hit.

She struck up another pair of flames, smashing them together to create a billowing sphere of fire. She lobbed it towards the center of the largest cluster of troops, which happened to be dangerously close to Jetstream.

Jetstream yelped and bolted away from the target area as fast as his wings would carry him.

He took a few seconds to regain his hearing and clear his eyes. He glanced sideways, towards the towering plume of smoldering fire and smoke not more than ten yards away. The inferno was all that remained of, according to his readout, thirteen troopers. The intense heat made his wings ache, so he quickly distanced himself from it.

The mare stood with her back to the blaze, mirthfully laughing, waving her hooves around to make the fire dance.

The speakers crackled, and as before, both Jetstream and the mare dropped what they were doing to glance at the observation deck.

“That will be all, Havocwing. That was quite an impressive display.”

The mare pumped her hooves excitedly. “Hell yeah it was impressive, pops! Booyah! Best damn fighter this side of Pandemonium!” She turned to Jetstream and snapped her hoof at him. “Yo punk! I just took your ass to school! What are you gonna do about it?”

Jetstream sneered, but stayed quiet. It didn’t seem wise to antagonize her.

She chuckled. “Yeah that's what I thought. Smell you later, loser. If you’re still alive, that is, heh heh.”

Havocwing strut her way towards the arena exit just as the next mare was entering. Were they all going to be mares? Jetstream was perturbed by that. Here he was, one of the most decorated soldiers in the NPAF, getting shown up by a bunch of mares. If any of his comrades in the soldiery found out, they’d laugh him right back to boot camp. They wouldn’t believe for an instant that these mares had such unreal magic powers.

The next mare was not a pegasus, but a unicorn. Jetstream never considered himself an expert on beauty, but he had an eye for mares, and this mare certainly lacked anything he considered pretty. Her charcoal-black coat looked dirty and was matted with sweat; her mane and tail were messy and tangled; even her jumpsuit was wrinkled, and looked as though she’d never once washed it. Worse, her mane and tail were an unnatural yellow, as if she’d tried to do her own dye job and accidentally used paint instead of dye. A true “fashion disaster”, as the mares in the streets of the Inner Districts would say. Her cutie mark was a trio of plain-looking coals. He did notice that she at least kept her eyes in good condition, and in a bizarre contrast she seemed to have a natural aptitude for applying eyeshadow.

“Break a leg,” Havocwing said in an obviously-sarcastic sing-song tone. The unicorn made to reply, but the pegasus interrupted, “No really, break a leg. That’d be hilarious.”

The unicorn snorted. “Okay, that’s, like, totally uncool. I’m so gonna get you back for that? For. Sure.”

Havocwing laughed. “Yeah, right. You couldn’t fight your way out of a paper bag, los—"

The unicorn jabbed her hoof into Havocwing’s midsection, causing the pegasus to yelp in what sounded like severe pain, leaping away as if she’d stepped on a nail. The unicorn’s hoof glowed a dull red, then absorbed the light into itself.

“You touched me! You bucking touched me!” Havocwing shouted. “I told you not to touch me! You touch me again, you’re a dead mare, you got that?”

The unicorn paid her no heed.

“Hey!” Havocwing ignited one of her hooves. “I’m bucking talking to you, punk!”

“Yeah, yeah, what-ever,” the unicorn dismissed. “Like, if you’re done here, I’ve got to get to work and junk? So like, make like a tree and hit the road.”

Havocwing sneered and made to say something, but apparently decided against it and stormed off in a huff.

Jetstream grimaced at the increasing numerical callsigns on his soldiers. A few of the troopers from his initial platoon still remained with him, so that put him somewhat at ease; at least he was only losing half a platoon at a time. Still, the combat prowess of these mares concerned him. They possessed powers that were beyond his understanding. What exactly were these “weapons” being used for?

The unicorn stumbled forward, almost tripping as she was distracted by her own hoof.

Jetstream shook his head, chasing his doubts away, and tapped his temple again. His troops surrounded her and armed their flechette launchers. She wouldn't be able to fly away, was hideously outnumbered, and was clearly unaware of the danger. He almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

“Let’s see, like, how did she do this again?” the unicorn asked herself.

She pointed her hoof at one of the lingering flames left by the previous mare. A large swath of flames snaked its way through the air and crashed down on one of Jetstream’s soldiers, then burst outwards to engulf two more.

Jetstream had been expecting this mare to be able to use magic, as she was a unicorn, so he wasn’t surprised at her display. But, it still unnerved him that the others had been using magic he hadn’t seen before.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. Three troopers down already, but that was nothing serious.

He ordered the other troops to attack. They fired their weapons from all sides.

She yelped and panicked, raising a barrier spell to protect herself. It was an awkward cast, so while none of the bullets had gotten through, they hadn’t been properly reflected either. Instead, they clattered harmlessly to the ground around her.

“Hey! I’m, like, busy here!” she said. She seemed more bothered that he’d broken her focus than that he’d threatened her life.

Her body glowed a dull red for a brief moment, then returned to normal. “Whatever, I was, like, getting so bored with this power anyway? Cha. Fire is stupid.”

Her horn flared, and an aura of gold magic grabbed one of the surrounding troopers, snapping it over to her. Its visor shattered when it crashed into her barrier.

“Y’know, I totally bet one of these fancy robo-ponies has a much better power!” she said, her smile unnaturally large. “Gimme gimme gimme!”

She jabbed a hoof into the machine’s face. The trooper wantonly fired off sparks, as if it had been struck by an incredible electric shock.

She dropped it to the floor, and her body glowed bright gold for a brief moment. Without warning, she released her barrier and aimed her hoof at the nearest soldier in the formation. A ferocious bolt of lightning burst out of her hoof and ripped into her target, tearing it to pieces.

Jetstream’s jaw dropped. He frantically ordered his soldiers to fall back and engage her from range, but her aim was improving every time she fired off a shot. While her barrier spells were still very sloppy, her newfound weapon was extremely effective.

“Boom! Zap! Kapow!” She cheered with every explosive burst. “Okay, this is totally neat-o!”

He lost three more soldiers before Silvertongue’s voice crackled over the speakers again.

“A fine display, Insipid. You may stop now.”

“Yay! You liked it?!” Insipid squealed, clapping her hooves. “Oh. My. Stars. This is, like, the best. Possible. Thing. Eeee!”

She cantered airly towards the arena exit, where the next mare stood awaiting her turn.

Jetstream squinted and rubbed his eyes, befuddled by what he saw. The next pony looked familiar. Too familiar, in fact. He knew he’d seen her escape just that morning. What was her name again? Pinkie Pie? He was certain it was her, even though he saw some differences in her appearance. Her pink coat was a little duller, as were her mane and tail. She wore those in a straight, neatly-combed style, not at all the same poofy style he’d seen before. It was her, it had to be. Then again, her cutie mark was different. He could have sworn she had a trio of balloons, not a chocolate cupcake.

“So, like, I guess I should wish you ‘best of luck’ too, or whatever?” Insipid said as she trotted over. “Hoofshake on it?”

The earth pony kept her gaze forward, ignoring the unicorn.

Insipid snorted and stomped a hoof. “What-ever, if you’re gonna, y’know, be rude about it, you can, like, bite me.”

The earth pony slowly tilted her head sideways and smirked. “Is that an invitation?”

Insipid paused for a moment, then blanched. “Like, ewww, no! Totally. Major. Grody!”

She trotted away in a huff, leaving the earth pony behind.

Jetstream snarled, deciding to completely throw any sense of fairness out the window. Trying to fight fairly had gotten him nowhere, accomplishing nothing save for embarrassing him in front of Silvertongue.

Most of his troops, except the new ones streaming into the arena, still had their flechette launchers armed. He ordered them to fire immediately.

The mare grinned, and shot forward to avoid them.

Jetstream fought hard to keep a straight face, to avoid cheering in triumph as multiple rounds pierced through her. She fell in a bloody heap only a yard away from her starting point.

His troops began reloading.

She struggled to rise to her hooves, her legs bleeding profusely and her body riddled with holes.

His troops fired again

To his surprise and horror, she not only managed to stand up, but managed to defend herself. He was sure what she was doing was medically impossible.

Her blood moved entirely on its own. A thick stream flowed from the many gaping wounds on her body and flared upwards, forming a shield that protected her from the bullets.

She staggered to her hooves and stepped awkwardly towards the nearest formation of soldiers. Her eyes were hidden by her blood-drenched mane, but he could see her wide, toothy grin.

Another stream of blood lashed out, grabbing one of his soldiers by the face. It squeezed until the soldier’s head popped in its grip. The soldier attempted to aim its guns at her, but the tendril slammed it harshly into the ground.

Another stream took on a thin, blade-like shape, and rapidly sliced through the middle of another trooper. The clean cuts didn’t appear until it made to move, and it crumbled into multiple tiny pieces.

A nearby trooper attempted to pounce on her with its static-charged hooves. Another stream twisted up to meet it, forming a spike that impaled it through the neck. She violently tossed it aside, flinging it into another formation.

The pool of blood she left in her wake converged on her, snaking its way back into her myriad wounds. Said wounds seamlessly repaired themselves until she was able to walk normally. She looked as though she hadn’t even been touched, let alone mortally wounded. A thick cut along her spine remained untouched. It was from here that her weaponized blood poured, flailing about her like the tendrils of some horrid beast he’d seen only in nightmares.

Her wide smile and blood red eyes weren’t helping to ease his mind, either. It had been odd enough to see the red pegasus with one, but this pony had a mouth full of razor-sharp, gleaming fangs. Her tongue slid out of her mouth and licked along every single one.

She sauntered towards Jetstream now. He took a step back, fearful that she was coming after him rather than his expendable troops. The hungry look in her eyes frightened him. She was out for blood.

Jetstream stepped backwards again, but the mare drew closer and closer, taking two steps for every one of his.

“Mmm... you seem nervous.”

Jetstream leapt into the air and turned to face the high-pitched, peppy whisper behind him.

Nothing.

Jetstream turned back to where the mare had been before. She stood perfectly still and wore that same damned smile on her face.

“Maybe you should take a little... break?”

Jetstream blinked. The mare was gone. He frantically checked his surroundings.

Nothing.

“Cold sweat... a hint of the jitters. Mmm... you smell delicious.”

Jetstream put his hooves to his ears. The mare’s voice echoed inside his head.

“I wonder what you taste like...”

One of her tendrils snapped from thin air at Jetstream’s face. He flinched and squeezed his eyes shut.

“That will be all, my dear.” Silvertongue’s voice.

Jetstream’s eyes blinked open. The tendril lingered mere inches away, angrily writhing in the air directly in front of his face.

“Aww, but I was having fun.” The mare took more steps towards him, nearly touching him with her tendril.

“I said, that will be all, Red Velvet. You can stop frightening the whelp.”

Her bloodlust vanished in an instant. She calmly cantered towards the exit without another word to Jetstream.

The fifth mare, a violet-coated unicorn, was already waiting there for her turn. Her mane was styled with bouncy curls, half of it fuschia, the other half bubblegum pink. Her cutie mark almost matched the emblem that represented New Pandemonium City, but instead of a red, flaming sword thrusting downwards through a golden disk, hers was a simple, silver sword thrusting sideways through a golden crescent. She wore a great deal of mascara under and over her eyes, making her look like one of those eastern Outer Distract floozies.

Her eyes concerned Jetstream the most, as they were frighteningly familiar. He remembered seeing that exact same spark of determination, confidence, and focus in the eyes of the accursed unicorn that had started off his morning on such a sour note, Twilight Sparkle.

The pink mare did not verbally greet the newcomer. Instead, she merely gave a respectful nod that was given a half-hearted return as the unicorn stepped forward.

Jetstream grit his teeth. He knew he only had one more chance. He was going to throw everything he had into this: no holding back, no fair play, no mercy.

His fully replenished troops moved, surrounding her and arming their weapons. The cocky smirk she wore filled him with rage.

“Is this genuinely all the force you can muster?” the unicorn asked, laughing. She shrugged. “If you insist upon participating in such tripe, I suppose I am obligated to respond in kind.”

Jetstream sneered. The others had at least waited until after their tests to mock and taunt him.

She chuckled, putting her hoof over her mouth in mock apology. “Oh dear, have I disconcerted you? My condolences, but certainly your ego should not be such a crucial matter. Or am I wrong?”

Jetstream grit his teeth harder and tapped his visor, signalling his soldiers to take aim and attack, with only the two he kept at his side being omitted. He’d grown attached to these two remnants of his original platoon, T-001 and T-017, and wanted to keep them close in hopes that their survivability would extend to himself. Besides, seventeen was his lucky number.

“I see,” she said, giving a light-hearted shrug. “Very well. If you possess no retort, then commence with your demonstration.”

Nearly all of his troops fired their flechette rounds in unison.

Her horn glowed as bright as a star, and a shockwave of energy cascaded throughout the arena. The closest soldiers to her were lifted into the air, flailing about as they attempted to re-acquire a lock. The flechette rounds that had been fired by the rear line had all been caught in a glowing field of energy less than a yard from their target.

She twirled her collection of machines and bullets around, dancing them through the air like toys. “Lamentable. Inadequate. Uninspiring. Suffice to say, I am not impressed,” she droned. “Now allow me to demonstrate.”

She twisted all of the bullets she’d caught in front of her and arranged them in a ball. Without warning, the projectiles rapidly shot outwards in random directions, ripping apart mechanical ponies like tissue paper. The first line of troopers, those she’d lifted up with her magic, remained untouched; the second line, just behind those, were completely destroyed.

The third line finished reloading and fired again. She swept the robots she held through the line of fire with dazzling speed, using them as shields to soak up all of the incoming fire. Once the third line ran out of ammo, she discarded her makeshift shields, or rather the wreckage that was left of them.

A full two-thirds of his platoon gone in the space of a few moments.

He commanded his remaining troops to fire again, knowing the gesture was futile, but what else could he do?

She placed up a barrier at the last second, reflecting flechette rounds in every direction. Many of his remaining troops were struck and mangled, and he was forced to duck to avoid a few rounds himself.

Down to five soldiers.

She stepped forward, her horn aglow, and grabbed the three that remained of his third line in a purple aura.

The glow around one grew bright, and the soldier it held compacted on itself, crushed like a tin can.

She flung another upwards into the air with so much force that it slammed into the ceiling.

The last glowed a bright white and disappeared with a flash and a pop. A teleportation spell. Where it had been teleported to, he did not know nor did he want to.

He knew simultaneous spell-casting was possible, but limited, difficult, and exhausting. She’d been using some exceedingly complicated magic, yet did not look at all the worse for wear. If anything, she looked dissatisfied.

“How astonishingly soporific,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I anticipated that you would offer some modicum of challenge, but at present all that I have witnessed is a rather pathetic exhibition. Is not the intention of this ‘test’ evaluating my innumerable, prodigious talents?”

Her arrogance was unbearable. Jetstream had never once in his life ever wanted to slap a mare’s mouth shut, but there was a first time for everything. He tapped his visor again, signaling for additional reinforcements.

She laughed as the heavy iron gateway cranked open and another full platoon of troops entered the arena. “Well! I had certainly hoped you would mobilize more than just an insufficient rabble of machines to your aid, but I am aware of the impossibility of such. A shame.”

Mechanical soldiers streamed in a line out of the gate. She shook her head and ignited her horn, shrouding the gate with a bright pink aura.

As soon as the last trooper appeared, she slammed the door closed on top of it. She then ripped the gate off its rails and proceeded to one at a time smash the other soldiers with the giant slab of metal.

He looked on, completely dumbstruck, unable to process what he was seeing. The gate weighed several tons and was designed to hold a Gargantuan patriarch, a creature stronger than twenty ponies and just as big. A single unicorn could never lift such a thing.

She swept it around as if it weighed nothing at all. The massive object pummeled his soldiers, scattering mechanical parts in all directions.

Jetstream frantically ordered his units to spread out to minimize the damage. As they moved, he ordered them to open fire, hoping to break her concentration.

She casually teleported herself out of harm’s way, not once dropping her weapon. Jetstream slammed a hoof to the floor in frustration.

She crushed the last of his new platoon with the gate, then merely laughed and tossed it aside.

She snickered. “And so concludes another chapter in the fiasco that is your existence.”

He reached his hoof up to summon more reinforcements. Her horn flashed, and his visor shattered. Down to two soldiers again.

He gulped, and pointed his hoof at the unicorn. His hoof shook. “G-go! Take her down!”

“Oh, you puerile, predictable, poignant peon. You still presume to challenge me? You are dreck. You and your miserable machines are but specks of insignificance compared to the might that I wield.”

She turned to one of his troopers, T-017, and lit her horn again, lifting the robot into the air. He watched in shock as her magic took the thing apart like one would do a toaster oven that wasn’t working properly. Every single piece of machinery jettisoned outwards, spreading in the air before him.

“A mundane little thing, isn’t it?” she mused. “Such enterprise employed to create such a pitiable construct.”

She floated over a small cube-shaped component that had been removed from its chest, no bigger than an orange. “And here, the central processing unit. The machine’s heart and soul. Powerful enough to calculate elaborate physics trajectories in the merest fractions of a second—" She snapped it in half. “And yet so fragile. Not unlike yourself.”

She laughed loudly. “My trial was completed before it commenced. I suppose I should conclude this charade. You are unaided, after all.”

“You’re f-forgetting my last trooper,” Jetstream said, glancing hopefully at his only remaining ally. “I haven’t heard milord call you off yet.”

“Oh! How sophomoric of me, I forgot,” she said, playfully smacking her hoof against her forehead. “I suppose he is waiting for your other opponent to conclude her test.”

She turned to the other trooper and nodded.

“What the buck are you—"

T-001 sharply turned and bucked him hard in the face.

He stumbled away and glared at the offending machine. His jaw dropped. No bucking way.

The soldier’s mechanical features dissolved away, and what was once a machine turned into the form of a living, breathing mare. Shiny azure fur covering a sleek, elegant, feminine body replaced dull black metal covering a thick, heavy, masculine frame. A plain indigo headband kept her vermillion mane out of her eyes. Three oranges made up her cutie mark. Her mouth was curled in a sly grin, which she directed at him.

Jetstream rubbed his cheek where she’d kicked him. Hot damn. I’ve never been so happy to be hit by a mare.

“Have you enjoyed a suitable amount of fun?” the unicorn asked the earth pony.

“Mais oui, I ‘ave ‘ad a wonderful time sitting and waiting for all of you to finish vos tests,” the earth pony said, her voice light and airy. “You know as well as I do zat Oncle Blutsauger wanted us to go par ordre alphabétique. Donc, I did what I do best.”

“Cower in a corner?”

“Une opération d’infiltration,” the earth pony dismissed. “You did not expect me to go vis-a-vis wiz zose garish zings, did you?”

Silvertongue’s voice crackled over the speakers. “Starlight Shadow. Curaçao. An exemplary display, both of you. I’ll be down shortly to meet with you and the others, and to deliver your results. Well done.”

The unicorn beamed. “Excellent! I am not anticipating receiving anything less than maximum marks.” She tilted her head towards the earth pony and grinned. “Do not assume you are inadequate when your tally is inferior to mine, Curaçao. It is only logical, after all.”

“If your score trumping mine ovrried moi, zen j’aurais très peur de tout,” Curaçao said. At Starlight Shadow’s blank look, she coughed into her hoof. “I vould be scared of anyzing, vois-tu?”

“Right...”

Jetstream grumbled and stepped aside as the two mares headed for the open entry gateway. They seemed to be completely ignoring his presence. He figured it was probably better that way anyway, because then they couldn’t ridicule-

“Hey loser!”

Havocwing raced out of the gate and made a beeline straight for Jetstream.

She got right in his face and poked him hard in the chest. “You just got your ass royally bucking handed to you! Ha! I’ll be surprised if Pops doesn’t just rip your stupid wings off and push you off the roof. You’re the worst excuse for a pegasus I’ve ever seen!”

“So much for being ignored,” Jetstream muttered.

Insipid literally skipped into the arena next. “I, like, totally deserve the best score, boss,” she gushed, addressing Starlight Shadow. “I mean, yeah, okay, your little display was, like, impressive and all? But, like, I am so much more deserving and junk? Cha.”

“Mais oui, such a tremendous display yours vas, ma copine,” Curaçao said, her voice flat.

Insipid gave a happy squeal and leapt over to Curaçao, giving her a crushing hug. “Aha! There you are! I was, like, so totally worried when I didn’t see you in the prep room! I’m so never letting you out of my sight again.”

“C’est... bon.” Curaçao gave an obviously-forced smile as Insipid lovingly stroked her mane. “Je suis heureuse.”

“Ooh, I love it when you talk all fancy,” Insipid sighed, leaning her cheek against Curaçao’s neck.

Havocwing made a puking gesture behind her back.

Grayscale Force entered the arena next, remaining quiet and not moving to join her comrades. None of them seemed to even notice or care.

Red Velvet, on the other hoof, bounded straight over to the group and landed precisely in the middle of the formation. Aside from Starlight Shadow, the mares all took a subtle step away from her.

A large clang alerted all the ponies present to the opening of the small door on the opposite edge of the arena. Silvertongue entered the room, striding straight for the collection of ponies. Doctor Blutsauger followed closely behind him, hovering a datapad in front of his face and rapidly running his hoof across the screen. As they approached, Jetstream snapped to attention and saluted. Five of the six mares scrambled to get themselves in a line, except Starlight Shadow, who took a position opposite Jetstream and stood proudly.

“Ladies. Calm yourselves,” Silvertongue said.

The other five obeyed instantly, lining up without another word. Silvertongue’s mouth curled in a smile as he looked over the six of them, each one standing straight and tall.

“An admirable display, all of you,” he said, stepping down towards the end of the line. “It gladdens me to see that the accident has not diminished any of your powers. Now then, I suppose you are all excited to learn how well you performed, yes?”

They all nodded enthusiastically, save Starlight, who bore a cocksure grin.

Silvertongue laughed. “Ah, but before I administer my evaluations, your dear Uncle Blutsauger needs to give you all a brief examination. Nothing serious, just some simple diagnostics. This is your first time utilizing your abilities since the accident, after all, and it would be simply dreadful were any of you affected negatively.” He gestured for Blutsauger to step forward. “Doctor, you may proceed. And please,” he added, narrowing his eyes, “keep it brief.”

Blutsauger cantered forward, a wide smile on his face. “Ja ja, I vill not be long, Herr Silvertongue. As you said, just some diagnostic magicks, ja? Zis vill take seconds.”

He stepped up to Starlight Shadow and pressed his hoof on his datapad. It glowed, sending out a beam of light at Starlight that enshrouded her in a dull blue glow. He hummed to himself and pushed some buttons on the pad, then brightened when the device’s glow turned bright green.

“Vunderbar! You are in peak physical condition, dear,” he said, adjusting his goggles. “Are you sure you don’t vant me to give you a closer examination? It might be wise to be more zorough, ja?”

“No thank you, uncle,” Starlight said, shying away just slightly and giving Silvertongue a nervous glance.

Blutsauger shrugged and went down the line, performing the same quick examinations on the other five mares and becoming visibly disappointed as they each rebuked his inquiries in turn.

When he was completed, he returned to Silvertongue’s side and saluted. “All done, Herr Silvertongue. Zey are all at zeir peaks, in prime physical condition, ja?” he said, leering at the line of mares. “None of zem sustained any injuries in zee first place, viz one exception; and Red Velvet has recovered from her injuries completely, as if zey vere not even zere. I am impressed!”

“Excellent, Doctor,” Silvertongue said, gesturing for Blutsauger to stand at ease. “Now then, for my evaluations.”

Silvertongue walked over to the last pony in the line, Curaçao. She kept a firm, professional look on her face, but Jetstream saw the glimmer of happiness in her eyes.

“First, Curaçao,” Silvertongue announced. “You displayed an incredible aptitude for subterfuge and deception, and I was quite impressed with your ability to mislead even your opponent’s techno-magic equipment. A clever ruse. However,” he tutted, shaking his hoof, “You withheld yourself from multiple opportunities to strike at your opponent when he was distracted. In the future, remember, always capitalize on the element of surprise. Ninety-two points.”

“Merci, papa.” Curaçao smiled, bowing down on one knee.

Silvertongue stepped next over to the Grayscale Force. She stomped a hoof and stood at even firmer attention, were that possible. Jetstream was impressed at just how tall she was, even in comparison to Silvertongue, who’d always towered over other ponies before. Grayscale stood nearly eye-to-eye with him.

“Grayscale Force. You displayed an acute understanding of physics and gravity, utilizing it to bring tremendous force to bear against your opponent. I am impressed at how much power you wield, and am eager to see how much control over it you truly have. However, you only displayed your ability to increase gravity’s force upon your targets, and upon yourself. In the future, remember, decreasing weight has its own applications. Ninety-eight points.”

Grayscale bowed down on one knee as Curaçao had done. “I deserve as much, I guess. Thanks, dad.”

Silvertongue next turned to Havocwing, who beamed wide and lifted her hoof up as if expecting him to give her a hoofbump.

Silvertongue left her hanging. “Havocwing. First, let me express my disappointment in you for beginning your test by utilizing such lowbrow combat techniques. This test’s intention was to evaluate your control over your powers, not how well you could ‘kick ass’, as you would say.”

Havocwing’s smile drooped and her hoof fell limp to the floor.

“However, the rest of your display was quite impressive, and while it did not excuse the disappointing beginning, it was enough to increase your average,” Silvertongue continued. “In the future, remember, always bring your full power to bear against your opponent. Do not lower yourself to their level. Eighty-seven points.”

Havocwing sighed. “Yeah, pops, I get it...”

Insipid snickered from the side, and Havocwing shot her a fierce glare.

Silvertongue stepped up to Insipid. She beamed up at him, barely able to stay still. He chuckled softly and patted her on the head, making her laugh. “Insipid. Your display of mimicking the capabilities of other ponies was impressive, and that your touch causes such powerful feedback intrigues me. I was unaware you could drain the power from a techno-magic construct as well, so that came as a pleasant surprise. However, your standard magic has room for improvement. In the future, remember that you are a unicorn, and that you can use your magic together with the powers you copy.”

Insipid stared up blankly at Silvertongue, and tilted her head. “Uh... does that, like, mean I did good?”

Silvertongue smiled. “Ninety-one points.”

“But daaddyy,” she whined, “I want a higher score, pleeease?”

Silvertongue laughed and ruffled her mane. “Ninety-two points then.”

“Whoopie!” She tilted her head over towards Curaçao and grinned wide. “Curie! I got the same score as you!”

“Très bon, good for you,” Curaçao said, shaking her head. “I am... proud of you.”

“Yay!”

Silvertongue moved next to Red Velvet.

She kept a serious look on her face, but Jetstream couldn’t help but notice she was glancing in his direction every other second. That same damned hungry look lingered in her eyes. He took half a step back and shuddered.

“Red Velvet. You displayed exceptional fortitude and capability for both enduring and distributing pain. Your primary power is exemplary, and I see no need to advise you on improving it, other than continuous practice to hone your skills. I also believe I witnessed the utilization of some fraction of your other power, and was quite impressed with how well that worked. However, remember, that secondary power you wield is not a guarantee for success. Creatures can conquer their fears, after all, even their fear of you. Ninety-four points.”

“Thank you daddy,” she said, bowing down as Curaçao and Grayscale had done.

Red Velvet glanced at Jetstream and gave him that wide, toothy smile again. It chilled him straight down to the bone.

Silvertongue approached the last of the six, Starlight Shadow. She stuck her nose in the air and kept that supremely smug grin on her face.

“And last but not least, to you, the youngest of my six wonderful little ponies,” Silvertongue announced. “Starlight Shadow. You displayed the most incredible magical power I have witnessed in a long, long time. You suffered no damage and destroyed your opponent’s entire regiment twice over. I see no need to advise you on your capabilities in combat. A perfect score, one hundred points.”

“It would have proven impossible for me to achieve anything less,” Starlight said, bowing low but not taking her eyes off of Silvertongue. “Your praise fills me with pride, father. Thank you.”

Silvertongue smiled and patted her on the head as well, causing her grin to widen. He stepped away from the line, then turned back and addressed them. “My daughters. You six are most precious to me, more than anything I possess in this world.” His words caused them all to smile brightly. “It pains me greatly to send you away, but you all have a greater purpose out there than you do here in the safety of my tower.”

Silvertongue motioned for Blutsauger to step forward again. “Doctor, if you would?”

“Ja, Herr Silvertongue.”

Blutsauger pushed a button on his datapad, which emitted a green light straight up and displayed a holographic projection of the six mares Jetstream recognized from that morning. The six mares here all looked at the images, and their happy smiles contorted into fierce scowls.

“These six have wronged you greatly, and they deserve to be punished,” Silvertongue explained, gesturing towards the holograms. “You have all recovered from the accident in such a short time. Now it is time you got your just and deserved revenge.”

“Booyah!” Havocwing exclaimed, pumping her hoof in the air. “Aw man, I cannot wait to break those punks’ faces in!”

Red Velvet rubbed her hooves together. “This is gonna be great. Like a feast! Ooh, ooh, or a buffet! I love buffets.”

“Havoc! Velvet!” Starlight hissed. “Cease your outbursts, father is talking.”

“It is quite alright, my dear,” Silvertongue laughed. He walked over to Havocwing and patted her on the head, making her chuckle. “Your sisters are merely excited. And with good reason.” He turned to Red Velvet and shook his hoof at her. “But, I do not want you to kill them, remember that. Do not succumb to your base desires. There is greater work to be done here, and you all are the keys to making it possible. Even you are not exempt from the same rules that I apply to all those who work for me. I do not tolerate failure.”

Silvertongue turned towards Jetstream, his mouth curling in a mocking smile. Jetstream gulped and straightened back to firm attention.

“Isn’t that right, Jetstream?” Silvertongue asked. “Oh, but where are my manners? I do believe this whole time you’ve been waiting to see whether or not I was going to give you a second chance, is that correct?”

Jetstream nodded. “Y-yes, milord.”

Silvertongue chuckled darkly, clapping his hooves together slowly. “I do applaud your efforts, commander. I suppose that I wasn’t really treating you with dignity, sending a plebeian individual such as yourself to challenge the likes of such powerful adversaries as these. It would be unfair of me to consider your inability to even pose a threat to them as a mark against you.”

Jetstream breathed a sigh of relief, completely unconcerned with the backhoofed compliments. “Thank you, milord, for—"

“‘Thank you’?” Silvertongue laughed. Loudly. His laughter was infectious, and the six mares started snickering as well. “Jetstream, correct me if I’m wrong, but do you believe you’ve earned a second chance?”

Jetstream glanced over at Blutsauger, who was the only one not laughing, then back to Silvertongue. “Uh... y-yes sir?”

Silvertongue sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Did I not just say that you failed to pose to them even a modicum of a threat? They barely exerted a minimum of effort. I don’t have time to wait for them to reach their full potential, as they need to catch up with those six mares. I remind you that your ineptitude this morning allowed the mares in question to gain quite some distance.”

“B-b-but—"

Silvertongue’s horn sparked, and Jetstream was jerked into the air. “I have no use for the likes of such a worthless pawn, Jetstream.”

Aw crap.

Silvertongue turned to Starlight Shadow and gave her a praising smile. “Starlight, my dear, Commander Jetstream here is in dire need of some punishment. Normally I have somepony to take care of such a task, one who relishes greatly in it, but he is... indisposed at the moment. How would you like to test your powers against a normal pony, rather than a simple machine?”

Crap. No. No!

Starlight’s horn glowed and she took over Silvertongue’s spell, pulling Jetstream over to her. She dismissively waved a hoof. “Father, I surmise that you and I both are aware of somepony present who would much preferably be blessed with such an opportunity.”

Jetstream frantically darted his eyes between the six mares. He couldn’t decide what was worse: Grayscale Force crushing him under his own weight, or worse, under hers; Havocwing roasting him alive, maybe blowing him to pieces; Insipid electrocuting him; or Red Velvet slicing him apart. He did know one thing for certain though:

I’m dead. I’m bucking dead. Dad’s gonna be pissed.

“Yeah! Me!” Havocwing exclaimed, bolstering over. “Can I, boss? I just wanna fill him up with so much fire that he bucking explodes, and then when he’s done, make him explode again. Please boss? Can I?”

Starlight snorted and pushed Havocwing away. “Havoc, as I recall, you received the lowest marks. As penance for detruding our aggregate average, I am prohibiting you from this undertaking.”

Havocwing’s jaw dropped. “What?! Oh come on boss! I really want to kill this guy! He’s an embarrassment to pegasi everywhere! Please? I promise I—"

“Puh-lease,” Insipid said, bouncing over and shoving Havocwing aside. “If, like, anypony should be allowed to kill him, it should, like, totally be me and junk? I mean, for. Sure.”

Starlight and Havocwing stared at Insipid, eyes half-lidded.

Havocwing balked. “What?”

Curaçao raised an eyebrow. “You would prefer to kill ‘im? Quelle surprise! Zis is unlike you, ma copine.”

“Yeah, since when do you care about killing and stuff?” Havocwing asked.

Insipid rolled her eyes. “Like, since now. I mean duh, if you want a piece of him, I want a piece of him. You should totally, like, share? Sharing is caring, after all.”

“Bullshit! Like you’d share with any of us!”

Insipid stuck out her tongue. “You’re just mad I got a higher score than you.”

“Oh, but ‘avocving ‘as already lost ‘er opportunity, ma copine,” Curaçao said, patting Insipid on the back. “Besides, Grayscale earned zee ‘ighest score, after zee capitaine, of course. She is zee one who should deliver zee coup de grâce, n’est-ce pas?” She turned to the mentioned pegasus. “Grayscale? What do you zink?”

Grayscale shrugged and lazily took a few steps towards Jetstream. “I guess that’s fine, if you say so. Better than wasting it on Havocwing.”

Starlight nodded. “That is acceptable. If Grayscale wishes to—"

“Hey, buck that noise!” Havocwing said, pointing angrily at Grayscale. “Check it, she doesn’t want to!”

“Hell-ooo?” Insipid said, waving her hoof in the air. “This totally means, like, that it should be me, right? Not little miss low score here? She’s, like, so worthless?”

“Buck off!” Havocwing lit her hooves on fire, and swiveled around between Insipid, Grayscale, and Curaçao. “C’mon, which one of you wants to bucking say something else about me, huh? I’ll kick your ass into next week!”

“Aha, oui. I would not wish to disparage, euh, insult you, dear ‘avocving,” Curaçao said, pursing her lips.

She morphed her face to take on Havocwing’s appearance. Then, in a perfect imitation of Havocwing’s voice, she said, “But I have no problems insulting myself! I sure am a bucking idiot! I smell too!”

Havocwing stomped her hooves on the floor. “That’s it! I’m gonna—"

Grayscale yawned. “Can you guys make a decision already? I wanted to take a nap after the test.”

Starlight groaned and put a shield up in front of Havocwing just as she was darting towards a taunting Curaçao. Havocwing bounced back and rolled away, swearing loudly.

“I am surrounded by juveniles,” she said, holding her head in her hooves. “Velvet! Jetstream is yours for the taking.”

She dropped her spell on Jetstream, and he fell painfully to the cold metal floor.

Red Velvet licked her lips. “Thanks boss. You have no idea how much I wanted this. I’m starving. Why, I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse,” she said.

Jetstream scampered back several paces and darted his eyes to Silvertongue. “Milord... please!”

Silvertongue turned to Starlight. “Starlight Shadow, I shall leave you and your sisters to this gruesome task. When Jetstream has been disposed of, you may proceed with your assignment.”

“Of course, father,” Starlight said, bowing down on one knee.

“P-please, milord,” Jetstream said, putting his hooves together. “Please! Let me have another chance! I... I’m sorry!”

“It’s far too late to beg me for forgiveness, Jetstream,” Silvertongue said, his mouth curled in a scowl. “Your life is in their hooves now, specifically in my dear Red Velvet’s very capable ones. I suggest if you want to keep breathing, you ask her.”

Silvertongue and Blutsauger disappeared in a blinding white flash.

Red Velvet sauntered forward, her eyes regaining the baffling red glow Jetstream remembered from before. “Come on then, you heard daddy. Beg. Beg me to spare you. I promise I’ll listen. I just want to hear it...”

Jetstream gulped. “P-p-please, Miss Velvet, d-don’t—"

“‘Miss’ Velvet? Well, aren’t you just so—"

She vanished.

Jetstream staggered back from where she’d last been. He bumped into something. Something fuzzy and warm.

“Polite?” Velvet breathed into his ear.

Jetstream shot upwards several yards, wondering how she’d managed to get behind him.

She beamed up at him. Tendrils of blood began to leak out of the slit along her spine. “Mmm... and so skittish too. I love when my stallions get all jumpy like that. It’s like seasoning! Come on then, let me hear some more begging.”

Jetstream made to say something, but was at a loss for words. Her voice echoed inside his head again, higher-pitched than before, with a deep reverberation. It was like having a migraine that talked.

“What’s the matter, stud? Cat got your tongue?”

A sharp pain ripped across his flank, and Jetstream stopped flapping his wings in shock. He crashed into the floor, but ignored that pain to look at his flank in a panic.

His armor around the pained area had been stripped bare, letting him clearly see the injury. Claw marks. The cuts were thick, deep, and bleeding heavily. He couldn’t see his cutie mark at all through all the blood.

“Such a thick flank! So tender. I can’t wait to just... sink my teeth in.”

He scrambled away from Velvet again, but when he looked up, she wasn’t where he remembered seeing her.

“I can smell your blood. Mmmm... oh stars, it smells delicious. It makes for great marinade, you know?”

“Stop this! Please!”

“You don’t need to be so loud,” Velvet’s voice whispered.

He turned around to see her right behind him again, her eyes glowing red.

“After all, there’s only just the two of us. I like to dine in private, especially with such a hunky stallion as yourself. A dinner date for two.”

Jetstream frantically searched his surroundings as he stumbled away from her. The other five ponies were gone too, without a trace. The room darkened around himself and Velvet, surrounding them with nothing but black that washed light away like vulgar graffiti.

Soon, it was all gone. He was alone with her in a small circle of light no bigger than ten ponies across. When he reached the edge, it felt like he’d backed into a wall.

“Come on,” she pleaded, stepping towards him. “I want to hear you beg some more. I need to hear you beg some more. Please?”

“Milord!” he called out. “Blutsauger! Anypony! Please! Call it off! I promise I’ll—"

“I said,” she growled, her voice deepening and acquiring a fierce echo, “BEG!”

Jetstream tried to flee again, holding on to nothing more than a fleeting hope that he could escape. Perhaps this was his test, he thought. If he managed to get away, he’d earn his second chance.

But, every time he managed to reach the edge of the darkness, she was there. Her eyes were stained red, growing brighter every time he saw them, and her pupils were tiny and black.

“I normally like it when they run, but you’re making this so boring,” she said.

A tendril of her blood lashed out and grabbed him by the neck, dragging him towards her. He began to scream, and her grin widened in response.

She cackled. “Now that’s more like it!”

“No! L-let me go! Please!” He tried to run towards the only light he could see.

The light flickered and died, and his hopes died with it. He collapsed to the ground, holding his head, and sobbed.

I’m going to die.

Velvet slumped on top of Jetstream, and her tendrils began to snap around him and strip off the rest of his armor. A thick tendril slid out along her side and oozed to the gash on his flank.

Jetstream screamed when her blood mingled with his, causing a severe, burning pain. His whole body was on fire within seconds.

“See? Now was that so hard?” she asked, pinning him down and running a hoof along his chest. “Mmmm... you’re not too shabby at all. Lots of thick meat, tasty juices, and just the right amount of seasoning. I give this dish—" she giggled, leaping off of him, “Five stars!”

“P-please... stop this...” he whimpered.

“Stop? But we’re just getting started.” She pouted, then lifted a hoof as if she’d been struck with an idea. “I know! This is a dinner date, and what’s a dinner date without a little serenade?”

Her tendrils wrapped around every part of his body. His blood ran cold when they lifted him into the air and stretched him out.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to-

“Yes, yes, die, geez,” Velvet said, rolling her eyes. “Stallions. Always got a one-track mind, huh? Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah! Ahem...

“♫The femur bone’s connected to the... pelvic bone.”

Snap.

He screamed.

“Ooh that’s good!” she said, pointing her hoof at him in praise. “You’ll provide a nice little chorus for me. Where was I? Ah!

“♫The pelvic bone’s connected to the... spinal bone.”

Snap.

“♫The spinal bone’s... connected... hey. Hello?” She huffed and put her hooves on her hips. “Awww... shoot, there goes another one. I’m never gonna finish that song...”

Comments

[-Pinkamena_Pie-]

I... oh... Velvet deserves to be captain...

[So_Many_Wonders]

Applejack - Curaçao
Fluttershy - Grayscale Force
Rainbow Dash - Havocwing
Rarity - Insipid
Pinkie Pie - Red Velvet
Twilight Sparkle - Starlight Shadow

The alphabetical order almost all matches except for Pinkie.

Anyways I do quite like this version of the Evil 6 as they aren't just straightforward opposites of the Mane 6. Can't wait to see where this is going.

[Teraunce]

10282195
You have Fluttershy and Dash backwards. There was a Canon episode where Fluttershy became a Thestral temporarily and the ending stinger shows a fang reappearing in her mouth. Also some personality traits of these dark versions appear to be flipped.