(Hoo-eee y'all! Who'd have figured this story would blow up like it has! I'm glad to see that everyone is liking the fic so far, and the reviews have been enough to keep me going!
Response time!
ig40kman: I do indeed plan to submit this story after this chapter is in. It's actually the main reason I wrote it.
DoctorWhooves: that is exactly what I was aiming for, and I'm glad you caught on to it very fast. Whenever I write, I like to stay as close as possible to canon, so finding a way to wrap it all together was the darndest thing for me!
paxtofettel: Thanks, but I'd actually heard the name Stalliongrad mentioned before in another fic called the Twilight War. I believe it is still ongoing, and I recommend you go read it. It explores a full-blown, war-torn future for the mane cast that, while seeming a little ridiculous, draws you in nonetheless.
paulinaghost: As the last reviewer for the last chapter, you get the golden kewpie doll! yay! *Pinkie Pie throws a party* But yes, it does get a little repetitive to see the same thing time and time again, even if the writing is spot on and brilliant. I thank you for your kind words.
Now folks, this is where it ventures into the grim-dark. I wrangled with this chapter forever to keep it incorporated in the pony-verse, and I can't honestly tell myself that I succeeded. However, I'm hoping that your opinion is different, and you enjoy the next piece! Next update in less than a week, guaranteed!)
Guardians
Chapter 2: A Narrow Escape
To say that Twilight had never been faced with danger would be an outright lie. She'd battled creatures numerous times that could have killed her or her friends in an instant. She knew how to handle herself in a crisis situation.
But then why was she currently standing stock still as the rampaging canines charged closer and closer to her, paws and claws outstretched and jowls hanging, ropes of disgusting saliva streaming from yellowing teeth…
Regardless, it was Short who snapped her out of it. Just as the first dog was about to leap onto her, no doubt to frisk her and look for her gemstones, a flash of grey came out of nowhere, and the dog was suddenly reeling backwards to the snow-covered street, twin horseshoe-shaped bruises already forming under the jaw.
"C'mon!" the trooper yelled, pushing Twilight aside, to which she acquiesced almost immediately, galloping full pelt into a nearby café as Spike scuttled along after them. Coming out was an older stallion, one who looked ready to go back to work, his hard hat already back on his head. Unfortunately, the horse was bowled over as a unicorn and Earth pony slammed into him, throwing him back into the shop as Spike slammed the door shut. Every pony in the place was staring at the trio, and Twilight suddenly found herself at a loss for words, feeling the fixed eyes of over a dozen bewildered eaters.
Once again, however, it seemed Short had things under control. "Alright, no need to panic folks," he announced, stepping forward so the entire crowd could focus on him. "We've got a small problem outside. The police will arrive any minute, and we can then get out of your manes, okay? In the meantime, please enjoy your lunch. Sorry to disturb you."
He turned back, his reassuring tone gone as he said, quietly so only Twilight could hear him, "You know any combat magic?"
She frowned, not sure she understood the question. "Uh…."
"Y'know. Battle magic. Spells made for the express purpose of incapacitating or eliminating your enemy?" Short looked at her beseechingly, trying to get across how badly he wanted a 'yes' from her, but knowing she wouldn't have it.
"I thought you said the problem was 'small.' What happened to that?" she replied, desperate to change topics.
Outside, a gunshot boomed, and a chorus of victorious howls echoed up and down the streets, making every pony in the building cry out and seek shelter or simply sit there, shivering in fear. Following that was a rattle as more guns went off, almost sounding like somepony had foolishly lit an entire crate of firecrackers and thrown it into a drum shop.
"That's what happened! The diamond dogs of this area are really well armed! Dogs –invented- gunpowder, but these guys are almost addicted to it! Ugh!" Short sighed, hanging his head before reaching up and keying the radio strapped to his vest, saying "S-Command, this is Victor Seven with traffic, come in."
"Roger, Victor Seven, this is S-Command. Send traffic, over."
"S-Command, we've got an incursion in the Industrial District, Zone uh…"
He frowned, thinking to himself before stepping over to the counter, peering over the side and addressing the quivering lump below that was the bartender, huddled away in fright. "Hey, what's this place's address?"
"T-thirteen thirty-seven, Saddle Street. Ah!"
Another volley of gunfire went off outside, sending the bartender deeper under the counter, and Short grunted, speaking into his hand-held again. "Industrial District, Zone Seventeen. Combatants are armed, repeat armed. Interrogative, have the police been dispatched?"
"Standby, Victor…uh, negative, that's a negative. We're getting reports of six other incursions around the city. Please standby, over."
"What the hay?" Short asked, his expression shocked. Twilight, not understanding anything that had just happened, stepped closer, trying to keep up their façade of calm, even as more gunshots echoed outside, this time accompanied by equestrian cries of panic and more howls.
"Short…what's going on?"
"I don't know," the colt replied, turning to her with a bewildered look on his face. "It's the weirdest thing. It sounds like we're being hit in different areas at the same time. But that's impossible; diamond dogs don't have the coordination for that."
"Then what-" Twilight snapped, losing her composure as she gestured wildly over her shoulder "The hay is that going on out there?" Swiftly realizing her blunder, she spun around, looking over the room of wide-eyed ponies before coughing awkwardly and adding on "With that weather! I mean, you've got your Weather Officers working so hard out there on the smoke that they can't even manage the snow!" She smiled, hoping to add on a little more credibility.
"You know they don't believe you, right?" asked Spike and Short at the same time in the same, flat tone before glancing at each other, scowling. Twilight sighed in defeat, hanging her head and muttering "Yeah, yeah…"
Short snorted, lost in thought for a second before trying the radio once more. "S-Command, this is Victor Seven, come in."
But, oddly, only static came back to their end, and now Spike and Twilight were staring worriedly at the handset. Short tried again. "S-Command, this is Victor Seven, do you copy?" Again, static.
Grumbling, Short tucked the handset away, muttering something about bad weather and the short-range and ineffectiveness of the radios. The stallion stood there, scratching his chin with his hoof as he tried to think.
This entire visit should have just been a pleasant trip, Twilight thought. She should have arrived, gotten to the Worker's League, talked with the leader about what problems they were having, then spend the night at her hotel and go home the next day. Instead, it looked like she'd be stuck in a dangerous city for much longer than that. Compared to gem-hungry diamond dogs charging around with firearms, planning a surprise party for Pinkie Pie or getting Rainbow Dash to buck up and perform for a show seemed…well, rather trivial.
Finally, Short turned, heading back to the door and pushing it open slightly, peering out at the street beyond. His tone was one of a cautious onlooker who did not want to be discovered, like an adolescent colt sneaking into his father's salt cabinet. "Okay, looks clear for now. The dogs are gone."
He turned back, a frown on his face and obviously something else on his mind, but whatever it was, he didn't voice it, instead looking around the room at the myriad of ponies who were only now venturing out to sit in their seats again. "If the dogs come back they'll search the whole place top to bottom, and everyone here."
"Well, what do we do?" muttered Twilight, trying to keep the whine out of her voice, aware that now may not be the best time to upset her guide slash bodyguard.
She still had a niggling voice in the back of her head, however, telling her to take charge of the situation like she always did. If the local police couldn't handle this, then the Royal Army would take over. And if the Army couldn't handle this…what was she thinking? Twilight wasn't Rainbow Dash, no matter how much she tried to tell herself she could be brave. And she doubted that music from the reeds and warm milk would make these rogue dogs go away.
Fortunately, Short did have another plan. "We follow them. They'll be least likely to backtrack, and with any luck this raid will be over with soon. Hay, we might even run into a few other troopers and get you out of here. Celestia knows the radios don't always work."
"What about the ponies here?" Spike asked, gesturing to the café at large, most of whom had recovered by now and come to form a semicircle around the three, looking beseechingly at those who looked like they may know what they were doing. Short frowned, grunting in frustration before saying aloud "All of you, lock the doors and windows after we leave. Do not, repeat, do NOT open the door for anypony at all without asking for some kind of proof of who they are, whether by seeing them or some other method."
He took a deep breath, glancing around the room at the scared faces, looking for direction and leadership. He wasn't cut out for this stuff, this was what officers did to make themselves useful.
"As of now," he said, his voice more level as he tried to project an air of calm "This building is under lockdown."
"You didn't have to be so melodramatic."
"It's the only thing civilians listen to! If the authorities don't make drama about something, they're not taken seriously!"
"Well, I guess that explains why Princess Celestia's been been making a fuss for you to do all this research on friendship, Twilight," Spike chortled as he dashed along after the two, his stubby legs barely keeping up with the ponies' cantering pace.
The student shot an annoyed glance back at her assistant before slamming into Short's rear, sending them both tumbling head over hooves to land in a pile on the snowy stone street. At first, she had to concentrate on simply rediscovering which way up was, and then deciding if the purple thing in her field of view was Spike, or simply her hoof. She kicked out to find something solid, and with a sharp retort of "Ow!" she discovered it to be both the former and the latter.
"Nice moves there, miss…" Short groaned from under her, the brim of his helmet shoved down over his eyes. "You should become a danger, I mean, dancer."
"Oh, shut up," Twilight muttered, finally sorting out which limbs were hers and which were Short's, extricating herself and standing wobbly to her feet. They'd only gone a few blocks down the street from the now barricaded café, but her surroundings didn't seem any different. Snowy, brick-lined buildings, stalls along the lane…except there were no ponies, anywhere. Evidence of their habitation was seen everywhere in abandoned saddlebags, magazines and other pieces of property and several dozens of hoof prints, followed by enormous paw tracks in the white slush. One could tell that a struggle had happened here and there, most likely as ponies were thrown to the ground and patted down for gems before the canines moved on. Every now and again, there was a small pile of brass casings and a splash of red blood. Fortunately, no bodies.
"Everyone's hiding already?"
"Yeah," grunted Short as he stood, readjusting his helmet and looking around as well. "We're pretty used to this. Still, there's something wrong about this..." He leaned, down, inspecting one of the aforementioned piles of shells, sniffing the open end and nudging one around. "Automatic rifles. Fired quite recently, probably to scare the crowd."
She tilted her head to the side in confusion, looking at another shell casing nearby, then a few more in a small group.
"How can you tell all that? They look the same to me?"
"Yeah," said Spike, a bitter look on his face as he tossed away a half-chewed one. "And they don't taste as good with gunpowder in them."
Short straightened up, trotting towards an intersection ahead, making Spike and Twilight move as well, or risk being left behind.
"Well, the caliber is easy. The fact that they were all in a pile leant credit to my theory, but it's still just a guess. If someone was firing on a crowd, they'd move the weapon back and forth, throwing spent shells everywhere." It was a rather grim picture, but the fact that there were no dead so far gave Twilight the ease of mind to know that at least ponies weren't dying. There were a few unconscious and wounded that they found as they continued, but each time Short insisted that they keep moving. He didn't share why.
They found their first dead pony around the corner, down an avenue. She lay on the pavement with two red holes in her neck, staining her blue police uniform into a deep, sickening black. Her officer's cap lay nearby, where she had fallen. Next to the downed policemare was what had to be her partner, a colt whose features were hard to distinguish due to a lack of a head, simply a bloody and pulped mess attached to his white neck.
Twilight and Spike both stood there, unable to process the tragedy that lay before them in the form of the two dead ponies, simply doing their job and protecting the city. Short, meanwhile, leaned closer, inspecting both corpses before shaking his head and saying "Must have heard the shots and tried to set up an ambush. The two were overwhelmed before they could even get a shot off."
He moved in, pushing the mare around, and Twilight felt a bitter stab of indignation at the nerve of what he was doing. "Stop that!" she hissed, slamming a hard blow into his flank to interrupt his grim task. "Show some respect, Short! They should be left to rest in peace!"
The trooper snorted, turning back to the body and finally achieving his goal in getting her gun yoke off, saying "She's got no more use for it, and it'll keep us safe…mildly." Twilight could find no words to retort, and a quick glance at Spike revealed the same shocked expression on his features as well as they both looked back the stallion, who was currently shrugging the yoke onto his shoulders, checking the trigger bit.
A gun yoke consisted of a weight-bearing yoke like the one on a plow (such as the one Big Mac wore and never took off) and carried whatever weapon was currently in use on a pivot over the right shoulder, in this case a light caliber repeater, worn by police while on patrol (political intricacies not being one of her fortes, she ran the conundrum of why the force still had access to weapons by Princess Luna, albeit grudgingly. The measure that had taken the Army's guns had set no restrictions on police weapons, allowing them a nice, comfortable loophole) and not known for its lethality. The bullet sleeve trailed down the support strut, over the back of the yoke and into the ammunition box on the left side, which Short was checking now, tugging the belt to ensure it would feed properly.
The trooper turned to the unicorn and dragon, contemplating his words carefully before asking "Do either of you want one?"
Twilight started, a little surprised at the concept of her holding a lethal weapon. The good Samaritan in her automatically said no, but she began reconsidering the protection after looking once more at the two dead ponies in the street. Seeing her indecisiveness, Short tilted his head before asking "Do you know how to use one?"
"Well," the mage replied carefully, finally tearing her eyes away from the crimson blood splashed over the snowy stone street. "I've seen one..." Short's gaze became irritated and unbelieving, and he continued staring at her as she chewed her lip. "Uh…studied them?" Again with the stare, not a muscle moving save for his eyelids, looking at her and waiting for a halfway true story. She found herself lowering her head, trying to avoid the awkwardness of the situation as she continued "Read about them?...okay, fine! I don't know anything about guns, are you happy now!"
Short shook his head, glancing down at Spike, who simply crossed his arms over his scaled chest without a word, glaring back. The answer was obvious; 'does it –look- like I can wear that?' However, before the dragon could utter a single noise of sarcastic contempt, Twilight spotted movement over Short's shoulder, an enormous black blur flashing towards them, and did the first thing she could think of; yell "Look out!" and cast a barrier between the soldier and the enemy. The enormous paw of a Great Dane smashed into her purple magic field, causing it to visibly crack at the impact.
The dog didn't even appear to feel it's paw ram into the shield, reeling back for another blow. Standing at least three times higher than Twilight, he could have probably pulped both ponies without any effort whatsoever. However, before it could move, Short was there once more, firing rapidly with the repeater as he galloped at their foe, the barrel flashing and his teeth clenching on the trigger as he let out several short bursts, causing blood and dust to fly from the black fur. However, for all the results, the dog appeared unharmed, coughing a little as if he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him. Fortunately, Short had it in hand, for he body-slammed the Dane full force, knocking it to the ground before pouring an unending stream of rounds into it.
Twilight couldn't help but stare, enraptured by the violence as more blood flew, along with great chunks of black fur and pink flesh before, finally, the dog stopped moving, and Short stood there panting above the corpse, repeater smoking in the cold air. Handfuls of new shell casings lay steaming in the snow, rapidly cooling from the air around them.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Short back away from the dog, reaching up with a hoof and wiping a splatter of blood out of his face. "Dangit…I can never remember the bucking goggles…" Finally, however, his eyes were clear, and he could see again, letting go of the trigger as he glanced around, finally spying Twilight and Spike, both of whom had backed into a wall and watched the grim fracas with pale faces. Immediately embarrassed and slightly ashamed, the stallion stammered incoherently for a second before he steeled himself, his expression hardening. "He was going to hurt us! It's what you do to people with bad intentions."
He turned, looking up at a nearby street sign, advertising that they were on 42nd Avenue, a boulevard with piles upon piles of abandoned goods, carts and stands, obviously dropped in a hurry. "C'mon," he said, still watching the nearby buildings. "There's an outpost down the road from here. Should be able to find out what's going on from there." Again, he received no reply, and turned to find Twilight down on her belly, staring at the mangled corpse of the Great Dane, eyes wide. Spike was on her back, eyes buried in her mane, obviously to block out the gruesome sight. Wincing, Short knew he'd have to be insensitive, and moved over to Twilight. He considered backhoofing her, but knew that would get a bad reaction. She wasn't a soldier or an officer, she was just a student here at the behest of her regent.
Sighing, the trooper trotted around to Twilight's rear, bending down and headbutting her in the flank, causing the unicorn to either stand or be knocked into a snowbank. Fortunately, Twilight's reflex kept her balanced, and once she was standing he nudged her along again, hard. She made no sound, simply staring down at the street, her eyes wide.
"Never gets easy…" Short muttered as he kept pushing her, mindful to watch the alleyways, buildings and wagons for any sign of an ambush. At least she and the dragon weren't resisting.
Fortunately for all of them, they were alone save for the wind, the carts, and a few dead ponies and dogs scattered in and amongst the debris.
(Whoo! That was hard work. Some grimdark writers maker it look so easy...and then again, others don't. Anyway, read, enjoy, and I'll see y'all next week!)
