Fair Flight

by Baryski

Chapter 1: First Encounters (Scarlet)

Everything was set. The Creed assassin was on her trail. Pegasi were always so confident of their abilities to kill and that was usually their downfall. Scarlet knew that, giving her high card over anything a Creed assassin could bring to the battle. As an operative of the TWOS, she specialized on working solo, an exceptional case for the group. It was usually necessary for a carefully planned operation and execution of a minimum of three members to eliminate an elite Creed. However, she had proven more than competent in the past few years to do it herself. Scarlet Blast was her own setter, planner and lure.

However, this had been no ordinary encounter from the start. Any Creed member would have tried killing her without blinking. Not this one. The events of that day had already been strange enough, and to top it up, this odd character made it even stranger. Not for long though, she was nearly on the edge of her playground. She hoped to have a bit of fun before the killing’s been done. The Creed only hired amateurs these days…

***

“Eliminate all hostiles” That was the mission. “Terminate all Creed members in town” That was the objective. “Tear down every unit of their organization.” That was the incentive. “The Creed must fall.” That was the imperative. It was nearly impossible, for a borderline city like Fair-Feather. One of the main economical centers on the edge of the Equestrian Empire and a vital trade route with the Griffin Highlands, it was also a flourishing center of corruption and one of the largest black market branches. The name now stood more as an irony rather than a testimony.

Fair-Feather’s atmosphere was one of mistrust and suspicion. The business was being run by the Trade Guild, an international organization of bankers and merchants, which worked with everything from drug dealing to transportation of weapons. It didn’t matter who you were or what you wanted done… For the right price, anything was possible.

Apart from the Traders, who were the detached economical leaders and only bowed down before bits, two other organizations were vying for control over the Empire. Playing a game of smoke and deceit, a game of blood and betrayal for ages, their conflict was present even in this blooming backwater metropolis.

The Pegasus Creed, an organization of assassins trained from a very young age, was clearly running the show. Its economic prowess was only surpassed by its cunning and agile elite and by their recruitment force. Bureaucrats infiltrated in the country’s system worked through a large network of hospitals, orphanages and help houses. Any child, boy or girl could be taken in, but the ones who survived the training were the ones deemed for destinies as assassins. Spread throughout Equestria, little was known about the way they operated, only the higher-ups detaining such knowledge.

The underdog of the war, the Terra-Wasser-Ogon-Sora, a heavily militarized strike force had been valiantly holding against the recent onslaught of assassinations and turncoats. As weak as they were, they still held technological supremacy over the Creed. For every minor technology stolen, the scientists discovered two more major ones. Always on the run for the new, holding the latest devices in bomb arming and disposal, the medieval traps of the Creed were pointless against a TWOS operative. However, it was a rough time and recruits were few and far between, especially ones like Scarlet. She never found a reason for such a name, but she never did question that kind of stuff.

The pegasus had been doing her job properly. In fact, in the past month, two commanding members and a pack of other inferior killers had gone missing. The grip of the Creed was growing weaker over Fair-Feather. They even hired the Guild to take care of Scarlet, but she had her own deal. Every time they sent someone for her, she’d pay higher to lure him in. The rest was her business. A land mine, or a tripwire detonator, a thermal charge or a bullet to the head. They all ended up the same: dead. When the Creed started resorting to the elites, she was ready for them. First, plant some obvious traps, in which she’d lure them in. Then, when avoiding the obvious ones, they would slip in a maze with no way out. It was a win-win situation.

However, the assassin she was stalking now was different. She made it obvious she had been stalking him for quite a while, trying to get him in one of her classical traps: an old building, full of her most basic designs, concealing the true identity of the killer: A two-stage thermal detonator, built to incinerate a building and everyone inside in less than a minute. However, the assassin was either too dumb, or too confident of himself. She watched him from a distance go on a back alley, meeting another cloaked pony. The two exchanged words for several seconds

Then, something unexpected happened. The latter drew his blade shortly and slashed at his “houseguest”. Moving like a shadow in his cloak, the other assassin parried the blade sliding under the first one. Moments later, blood was gushing out of a fresh wound below his jawbone, as the figure slowly shook and limped to the floor. The element of surprise is mine. Diving towards the figure, the orange pegasus landed in front of her prey. It was only when Scarlet landed in front of the cloaked pony that she saw: the pegasus in front of her was a mare.

It made no difference. She was a Creed member, she had to die. The red pegasus locked her target and fired three consecutive shots at the cloaked figure. Surprisingly enough, she had underestimated the mare’s agility, managing to dodge all three bullets, only one of them puncturing a hole in her cape. Her wings, weaving a deathly dance in the air, in complete resonance with her whole body. That damn amateur, who couldn’t figure out Scarlet was following her for half an hour was finally going to put her down.

Yet the killing blow never came. The blade stopped a few millimeters away from her neck. A blade she hadn’t seen, until it was too late, was now edging close to her throat, ready to strike. The Creed assassin hesitated! Looking her in the eyes, all she could see was the cold eyes of a killer. The calculated look, much like her own, determined her next move. “Creed scum.” Scarlet hissed through her teeth, firing her gun. The shot was point blank. Scarlet never, ever missed a point blank shot. By now, the TWOS operative was wondering if it was her own faulty aim or the speed with which the pegasus executed her dodge that deflected the bullet from its destination.

The bladed pony sidestepped next to the orange mare, keeping the bracer blade close, but still not striking her down. She seemed as confused and stricken as her, and asked her in a low, almost whispered voice “What’s so special about you anyways?” Her hood was now down, and Scarlet looked for her glaring features. However, she matched none of the Creed members she had been tasked to eliminate. It doesn’t matter. Now’s my chance.

Raising her wing, Scarlet revealed a strap containing several hoof-held explosives. “Me? I’m the one who kills you!” With a single, flawlessly executed beat, she sent a hoof grenade, armed and ticking towards the assassin’s hood. 20… 19… The techie never knew what happened next, for in the time she took to blink, she found herself with a blade at her throat, her wings being held tightly by a strong, slender, hoof.

“Dead ponies don't get answers and I've got far too many questions.”

What? Does she seriously believe what she’s saying? Damn amateur. The grenade… Quickly taking a look around, she saw the explosive not too far away from their hooves. 11… 10 Just stall a bit… “And what makes you think I’m the one to answer them?”

“You're on the other side of an elite kill order. Best place to sta…” Her last word was covered by the grenade’s explosion, knocking both pegasi to the ground. Only expected… Scarlet broke free from the assassin’s grip, flipping over her body, landing upright a few feet away from her opponent.

“Sorry to disappoint. I'm no turncoat.” She raised her gun, strapped to her hoof and aimed for the head. A certain kill. Come on, Scar. You’ve done this loads of time before. Pull the trigger. Yet her hoof remained raised, on the gun’s button. She had never killed a mare before, she thought. Upset with herself, she lowered the gun as the assassin tried to bring herself upwards. Maybe she’s more fun than the rest. It’s been a while since I used my toys fully. “You want answers? Come get them!”

Moments later, the chase was on. She had set a few booby traps on the road to her main surprise as well. Left. Down. Turn. Left. Navigating the slums of Fair-Feather in flight was a challenge, especially when every wall had somehow been wired by her before. There was no way that upstart assassin could avoid them all. And if she did… Then it’s just gonna get better.

***

Five minutes have passed, yet she hasn’t set anything off yet. She might actually be one to face her end in a blaze of glory. Scarlet monitored the area from above, in the shadows. None of her obvious traps had been set off, so her follower was not another of the idiots she had faced so many times before. Yet, thinking back upon it, something bothered her.

Why didn’t I pull the trigger? I could have ended it right there. And since when do Creed members take prisoners for interrogation? Maybe they really are desperate for Fair-feather. Even having dissensions in their own ranks, that’s unprecedented in their history. I need to consult HQ about this.

While lost in the stream of her own thoughts, she saw smoke coming from somewhere in the northwest. The thermal detonator had been ignited, there was no way one could detect the sensors in the building. Yet she needed to make sure. Four minutes until the fire brigade arrive. There was more than enough time left for a quick check. Landing besides the rubble and smoke, she set a gas mask on her face, patiently going in the smokescreen.

Looking around, all she saw was rubble and debris. But there was something more. A bracer blade, sticking out through the ruined blocks could be seen clearly. It might’ve fell off during the panic. No assassin ever leaves without it. She must be dead, somewhere in there. Assured she had made a good job, Scarlet took the bracer, putting it in one of her backpacks, turning away with a smile. She was right about one thing. Dead ponies don’t get answers.