Just a Quiet Touch of Steel.by niegel22ChaptersDiamondsApplesThunderbolt (Part 1)Thunderbolt (Part 2)DiamondsChapter 1: Diamonds Night reigned over Canterlot. But not like it used to. It used to be beautiful. It used to be peaceful, it used to be silent. It used to be watched over by the beautiful Princess of the Night, Luna. Now it was hideous. Lights on in the rich homes, loud shouting. Drinking. The rich becoming richer and the poor crawling through the dust of life and getting from one thing to the next. The hooded person stood atop a flat-roofed building. Her face was covered by a black mask, only her sapphire eyes visible beneath the black hood. She looked upon Canterlot with hate and malice. The Capitol she had once known was ruined by a corrupt government. Celestia refusing to assist her people in correcting the economy, as she was required to do. There was only one word for it. Anarchy. The woman looked at the area within a hundred or so yards of where she stood. Five buildings, two with flat roofing and the others with angled slants, between her and her target. She was after a politician. He had done only what suited himself, only that which would benefit him in his position. He had to die. The woman made sure her weapons were secure and ready before she moved. She jumped from the roof of the building she stood on, and landed eight or nine feet below on the next roof. She heard steps and she slipped back down the side of the building, holding on to a ledge. Peeking up above the side, she saw a single guard, carrying a spear, walking back and forth, peering over the edges at the ground below. The woman slid out her weapon, a short blade concealed under her clothing attached to her right wrist. She waited. Her target walked to the edge of the roof that the assassin clung to. He looked over, and did not have time to react before the blade inserted itself into his throat and sprayed blood all over the woman and the wall behind her. The guard was heavy, with the armor, and now dead, he was simply that, a deadweight. The woman yanked her blade out, more blood gushing out, and pulled herself up onto the roof as the guard tumbled down to the ground, hitting the dirt with a quiet thud. The spear followed, cracking against the ground, and ringing with an echo between the walls. The assassin jumped to the next roof, an angled one with gray shingles, and latched onto the lightning rod that sprung up from the middle, waiting to see if more soldiers had heard and were coming. No sound. The assassin continued along the roof. The next jump was simple, onto another angled roof. She managed to balance herself on the gable, sticking out from the side. The next roof was too high up for her to simply jump up to the side. Her hand flashed flashed, and she used magic, carrying her body to where she wanted it to go. She disappeared from sight, then reappeared atop the roof. A whistling sound came to her ears. She flipped around, grabbed the spear from the hands of the unprepared soldier, turned the weapon around, and hit the man under the chin with the butt of the weapon. The sharp clack of his teeth connecting was painfully loud, more so for him than for the assassin. He let out a painful yell, and the woman tackled him down, forcing his mouth shut. She opened her hidden blade, and cut open his throat, more blood spurting out, and killing the stallion. The assassin back away from her kill, and jumped away from the edge. Crouching down, she wiped the blood from her face. It was warm, sticky, and not at all pleasant. She pulled out a cloth from her bag and cleaned her blade. The fabric was brand new, yet it was already coated with red stains. When she was ready, the assassin stood and kept moving. Her target was in a building just over the next one. Leaving no tracks, she jumped into the air and teleported up to the roof of the next building, and pressed herself flat against the side of the angled roofing. The laughing from the party reached her listening ears. There were drunk people in there. Civilians. People she did not have to hurt. But she still hated them. Rich asses who did nothing with their lives other than suck money out of the poor, and use that money for their own pleasure. Three windows open in the house, more than likely to let in oxygen for the drunk party-goers. But a window, in every sense, of opportunity for the assassin. Her task, to slip in poison in her target's food or drink. Her mission, claim a series of documents in his desk. The difficulty and danger of the mission, relatively high. But she had to do it. To bring about peace and justice to Equestria. It had to be done. The woman cast an invisibility spell over herself, and leaped through the window. Unfortunately, none of the magicians had yet found the spell that would cast infinite invisibility, so she had to move fast. She had maybe forty-seven seconds, or, at least, that was what she was told when she was briefed for the mission. Now, among the dozen or so drunk and happy people, she looked for her window of opportunity. Her target was on the opposite side of the room. He was happily having at a beer, whilst flirting with a pair of maids who looked almost certainly drunk out of their wits. Had she not been there to take care of business, there almost certainly would have been sexual action later in the night. But before she could dwell on her victory, she had to emerge victorious. Using her time wisely, she jumped between two men having a conversation about something she could hardly understand, slipped behind a woman who was alone, and then edged along the left wall toward her target. She positioned herself, counting the seconds she had left. Eighteen. There was a man in her way. Seventeen. Sixteen. The man moved. Fifteen. The assassin jumped, but a drunk member of the party tripped over something and crashed on top of her, flattening her to the floor. Fourteen. Thirteen. Scrambling up and shoving the person away, the assassin dove under the table that held the drinks and food. Twelve. Eleven. The woman slipped the vial of poison from her bag, gripping it with tight fingers. Ten. She rolled out from under the table, jumped up next to her target. Nine. Eight. Seven. She popped the vial open, letting the cap fall to the ground. Six. The assassin positioned herself next to the politician, waited for his drink to stand still in his shaking, drunken hand. Five. Four. Her moment jumped in front of her. Three. She tipped the vial, and several drops of clear liquid dripped from it into the bottle of alcohol. Two. The woman slipped the bottle into her bag, dropped back to the ground, and rolled under the table once more. One. The assassin watched her body become visible once more. Now, she had merely minutes to get out of there before the man was dead and she was discovered. The talking and laughing and random singing going on in the room had suddenly become much lower. Wary, she check her hood was still up, and she peeked up out of the cloth covering the table. Three armed guards had come into the room. Damn.... the assassin thought. This wasn't expected. She was told it was a private party, and she was to get in, kill, filch, and get out. Now, if the soldiers stayed for too long, her target would die under their watchful eyes. The soldiers were mostly certainly not drunk. One pair of people had become a bit excessive in their attraction, and were kissing fondly, while the man gripped his prey tightly and was pulling her toward one of the several bedrooms in the house. The woman waited for her chance. The soldiers were walking among the people, who had begun laughing and talking once more, their slurred, drunken voices echoing back and forth against the walls of the house. The assassin waited, and eventually the soldiers disappeared from sight. She glanced around the room from under the table, and then jumped up, and dashed into the office containing the politician's desk, and, more than likely, her target. Quietly closing the door, she made for the desk. Several draws were closed, but two were open, both full of manilla folders, which in turn were filled with papers. The assassin rifled through the documents until she found what she had been looking for. She yanked the pages from the drawer, and tucked them under her clothing. She turned to leave, but another item on the desk caught her eye. Two words across the folder: Algorithm Project. The assassin opened the folder, and the first page had the word CLASSIFIED stamped in large red letters across the top. Reason enough. She took the folder and placed it with the first one, and then heard a hefty thump. Her target was dead. A few harsh screams were heard, and among those a bit of boisterous laughing. Several thuds and footsteps were heard, quick and heavy. The assassin opened the door, and was immediately surrounded by three heavy spears. The soldiers had come back. “Damn it all.” she whispered to herself. “Look here, stupid girl, you see what you did? You just got yourself a life sentence to prison.” The guard moved to grab her hands, chain manacles in the other. The woman slapped away his hand and drew her sword. It was a pure silver blade, set with a diamond in the pommel and her code name printed in a foreign language along the blade. The soldiers laughed and advanced toward her. She knocked away the spear of one man, kicked him, hard, directly in the crotch, and swung her sword around to guard her other side, all in just a few moments. The one she had kicked was moaning and clutching his genitalia, lying on the ground. The other two soldiers backed away a few feet. “Got a bit of a fight in you, huh?” One said. “Maybe I can relieve some of that when we're done here. You have a nice body there...” he dropped his spear and pulled out a long knife. The other soldier re-gripped his hands and aimed the spear at her chest. The woman flexed her hands. “My body is my own and not for you to touch, with your blade or with your hands.” She swung her sword wildly in the direction of the one who had been speaking, forcing him to jump backwards to avoid her blow. The other soldier was not so prepared, and his spear was sliced in half by her sword, and then his throat pierced by her hidden blade. The woman pulled the sharp edge free of his flesh, and let him fall, clutching his throat, attempting to live for a moment longer. The last soldier charged her, a stupid decision in all aspects. She flicked her sword up, blocking his strike and forcing his blade to glance upwards, and jammed her hidden blade into his lungs as his momentum carried him past. A moment later she heard the thump as his body fell. She turned and looked at the carnage. The party-goers were watching, silently. Then, one at a time, they all began clapping and cheering, as though it were some wild performance brought in to entertain them. They would have some surprises in the morning. Quickly, the woman started walking away, when something latched onto her ankle. It was the soldier she had injured but not killed. She kicked away his hand, and stabbed him to death with her sword. Bounding across the room, she jumped back out the window she had entered in, smiling at the laughing and talking people, thinking they had been entertained. The assassin landed on the roof below, and slipped underneath the eaves of the roof. She checked the folders and made sure they were safe, checked her weapons again, and then disappeared into the night. The laughing continued from the building, for long after she had disappeared. ApplesChapter 2 Apples Applejack sat down in the chair. She would be leaving soon. Her room in the hospital was bare. Her weapons all lay in a neat pile on the bed. Her short sword, her hidden blade, all of it. Her hands were white. She hated hospitals. Her fists were clenched up against her thighs. She just wanted to get with her mission and leave this damned place. She was having her condition checked, as every assassin was required to do before a mission. The head medic was to be coming in any moment to check her vitals one more time. Applejack hated waiting. To pass the time, she strapped on her hidden blade, flexing her wrist back and forth, mesmerized by the blade's movements. Her effort was wasted, however, as the nurse walked in a moment later and closed the door behind her. “Miss Redheart.” Applejack greeted the woman. “Applejack. You know the procedure, I don't need to tell you.” The woman removed a few items from a sterilized bag, and placed them on a steel table. Applejack unclasped the hidden blade, letting it fall to the floor. Her tanned, calloused fingers were pale in the cold hospital light. She stood from the chair, walked to the bed, and began stripping down to her underclothing. She hated doing this. It felt an invasion of her privacy. But the nurse that was assigned to each assassin was relative to his or her gender. Redheart was the best of them. Once free of her outer clothing, Applejack sat down. Her black lingerie made her feel totally exposed. She would rather be entirely naked. It was cold, as well, and she had to force herself to stop shivering. She looked down at her thigh, admiring her Cutie Mark, as she often did on such occasions. Redheart came over to her and strapped a band around her upper arm, which began to squeeze. After a few moments, the pressure vanished and Applejack flexed her arms. “Your blood pressure is normal.” Redheart said. The nurse removed the strap, and then placed a stethoscope on either side of her head. She moved the metal plate and pressed it against Applejack's chest. It was ice cold. Her chest tingled. “Slightly raised heartbeat, nothing out of the ordinary. How do you feel?” “Jus' fine, ma'am. Ah'm ready to go.” Redheart removed the stethoscope and stepped back. Her eyes glanced up and down Applejack's body, and then she nodded. “Get dressed. They want you in the briefing room. The last mission was a success.” Redheart turned her back, picked up her things, and exited the room. The door clicked softly. Applejack stood up. She was ready for this. But preparation was key. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra. The black underclothing hit the ground. Applejack took a deep breath, the open air felt nice without something wrapped around her torso. But it could be worse. She turned to the bed and picked up a heavy, more covering type of underclothing. She slipped it on, clipping it on either side. She slid on her tight leggings, struggling into the flexible cloth, and then her black leather pants. Over the upper underclothing she put on a black shirt, and then a heavy black leather jacket. She was used to the weight, it was what she trained for. It had also helped that she had grown up on a farm, pulling more than her own weight since she was nine years old. Over everything she was now wearing, she donned a light cloak, gray, lined with white silk. The symbol of the six Elements of Harmony was stitched into the back of the cloak. Applejack clipped on her belt, onto which she secured her sword and her dagger. She wrapped the straps on her hidden blade around her wrist, secured the clasp, and flexed her wrist, testing it. The blade slid out quickly and cleanly. Relaxing, the blade moved back. Applejack threw on the hood, covering her orange hair, and she opened the door. She took a deep breath, feeling the heavy cloth stretch as her breasts pushed it outward. Blinking, she turned left and headed down the hall. In the briefing room, several people stood waiting. Applejack leaned against a wall, keeping a steady breathing rate. When all the other assassins and instigators and investigators were yelling at each other about one thing or another, Applejack just sat quietly, and ignored everything unless she was directly spoken too. The people in the room consisted of Rainbow Dash, who was dressed in a similar manner, Twilight Sparkle, who was wearing a light dress, Fluttershy, who was sitting in a chair studying a pile of papers, and several other persons involved with the current mission. Applejack looked up. Someone was missing. Suddenly the door crashed open and another assassin walked in. She was covered in blood, her white cloak and heavy clothing stained red with the stuff. She had clearly had a hard night. She pulled out a folder of documents, and set them on the table. “What you requested, Twilight, Darling. Now, if you please, I must relieve myself of this awfully dirty outfit.” The woman removed the brooch and cast off her cloak. Her blue hair, matted with sweat and blood, swung out behind her, spreading over her back. “Rarity, you look fine. How did it go?” Twilight asked. “Oh, just lovely. I had to kill a few extra guards, they gave me quite a start. The target is dead. Your documents are here.” “Well done. Now, you may retire and rest. We may need you again.” Rarity picked up her cloak, and started to leave. Half way through the door, she stopped. Turning around, she reached into her clothing again and withdrew another series of files. “I'd almost forgotten. I found this. Explain, Twilight.” She dropped the files in front of the woman. Twilight Sparkle slowly picked them up. Applejack strained her neck to see. “Twilight Sparkle, what is the Algorithm Project?” Rarity dropped her cloak on the table and sat down. Applejack narrowed her eyes and moved to sit down next to her. Thunderbolt (Part 1)Chapter 3 Thunderbolt Rainbow Dash stood in the streets of the marketplace of Canterlot. Her back was to the wall of a building, and her eyes darted back and forth, watching the soldiers. She had removed her assassin's clothing, in order to look as though any other civilian. The only weapon she had available was her hidden blade. Well, she did have her wings, but those weren't necessarily a weapon. She reviewed her assignment once again in her head. There was a man running a large black market in Canterlot, and he was buying and selling illegal drugs. The man would have been disposed of already, had Princess Celestia been doing her job. But that was not the case. For some reason, Twilight had said that an assassin with wings was needed. Rainbow Dash did not inquire why, she imagined she would find out soon enough. There were three classes of assassins working for Twilight Sparkle and the rest of the resistance force: Meister, Aviator, and Mage. Each had it's own unique abilities. The Meisters, they were superior to the others in terms of body strength. They were tough, and could hold their own against several enemies even with the weight of armor. The Aviators, they had wings and flight capabilities, and were extremely fast and nimble. Better for getting in, killing, and getting out than the other assassins. Their wings were kept hidden from sight by a design of clothing that Rarity had come up with, with allowed them to be folded comfortably against the back. Then there were the Mages. They were relatively strong, and they had magic capabilities that allowed fantastic abilities such as invisibility or teleportation. Rainbow Dash, of course, was an Aviator. Rarity and Twilight were Mages, Applejack and Pinkie Pie were Meisters. Fluttershy was an Aviator, but she seldom went on kill missions. Which is what Rainbow Dash was doing now. She looked up, and moved through the crowd. She was listening. Listening for any hint of given information about her target. Several people were bound to be involved in the black market she was after. Rainbow Dash saw a short building rise in front of her. She sprinted toward it, and pushed up on it's side, grasping a window sill, and then pushing with her hand to another hold, before heaving herself onto the roof. She lay down on top, listening to the buzz of the crowd. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking for anything suspicious. She saw a pair of people standing alone on the far side of the street. Rolling to the right and off the roof, and landed on one knee, one hand pressed against the ground for balance. They were men, one was glancing around nervously, and one had a black hood, which was inadvisable in the heat. Rainbow Dash sprinted through the crowd, dodging between people carrying various things, without causing a single disturbance. She slid behind a merchant stall, and steadied her breathing as she tried to block out all noise. She had to hear what they were saying. Closing here eyes, she folded her hands, leaned against the stall, and breathed calmly. “Did it come?” “I heard the order came this morning. It should be ready to pick up in about an hour. You need your money, though. They won't take any later payments, or any of that crap.” “I can do that.” “Good. I'll see you down there. Remember, password's 'threshold of blood'.” Rainbow Dash opened her eyes, and jumped up. She climbed up the wall in front of her, easily reaching the rooftop. She picked out the two men among the crowd, both of whom were moving in different directions now. She guessed which one was which, and followed the one who had received the information, rather than the one who had it. She crawled along the rooftops, keeping her eyes on her target and feeling with her hands where she was and how she had to move. Eventually, she jumped down off the roof and followed the man straight through the crowd. She pulled up her hood over her rainbow hair. It was too recognizable. Very few people had hair like hers. Pushing through the crowd, she maintained her distance, while her gaze remaining locked on his head. Her hidden blade was tight against her wrist. Sweat began forming on her head and her arms. The heat was not helping. However, despite her being very fit and toned with muscle, her counterpart was not the same. He was slowing down. He was constantly wiping his forehead. Rainbow Dash eventually became relatively close. She could have taken three large strides toward him and cut open his back, but she needed to keep him alive. He was a source of information. In a couple of hours, as was suggested by the other man, he would be moving toward the pickup zone fore whatever was being sold illegally, and she would be following him to the doorstep. The man finally made a turn out of the crowd, and moved down a side street, presumably to his home. Rainbow Dash felt uncomfortable in closed in spaces, so before she entered the alley, she shot out her wings, and jumped up into the air. It was odd, in front of the other people. Very few wing-clad people were left in Canterlot, it had seemed that it was almost a public offense to have wings. Racism had sprung up, since Celestia had retreated into her own world. The magic-users were popular. Wizards, they were called. Wizards, and, well, normal people, were far more common and took up more of the population. Rainbow Dash hated the racism. She had seen it up close and personal in Canterlot, on several missions, and had taken to “fixing” the issue. Rainbow Dash pumped her wings, and landed on the buildings above the street. Folding her wings back, she watched the man below, as he moved a bit faster, out of the sun. she trailed him, keeping her eyes locked. He took several turns, and eventually moved up a flight of stairs into an apartment building. He walked along a balcony, and then stopped at a door marked 23. Rainbow Dash shot a mental image, and then jumped up to a higher roof, thankfully there was a green overhang that provided some decent shade. She lay down underneath it, watching the door. The man had disappeared inside the room. Rainbow Dash, after several minutes, jumped off the roof, snapped open her wings, and coasted down toward the ground, landing between two buildings. She dropped one hand down to steady herself. A shriek reached her ears. Folding her wings, she moved through the buildings toward the noise. “STOP!” a high pitched, female voice echoed between the buildings. Rainbow Dash moved faster. There was a building on a corner, a small shop, with a window on either side. She could see clearly through the windows, and was immediately aware of who had made the shout, and why. A woman, with red wings, and fiery hair, was held up against a wall, by some thugs. They were rough men, all with hefty muscles, and evil grins on their fat faces. Rainbow Dash watched, in silence as the woman received multiple hits from hard fists. She was intending to stay out of a fight, she could not risk being exposed as an assassin. If she did, she would have to kill the men, forcing her to be notorious if she couldn't hide the bodies. But once the racism reached a different turning point, she acted. One of the thugs grabbed her shirt and tore it away, leaving a few shreds of cloth and a simple piece of lingerie covering her breasts. “Damn it..” Rainbow Dash said to herself. She sprinted to the corner of the building, took a deep breath, and stepped out. “Hey.” The thugs turned and saw her. “Another bitch?” One said. Rainbow Dash narrowed her eyes. The woman being pressed against the wall, nearly naked, gazed at her with a glint of hope in her bright, orange pupils. Two of the men advanced toward Rainbow Dash, the other two holding back the other woman. The assassin took a short fighting stance, lowering herself closer to the ground. The men laughed, and one pulled a short knife from his belt. Rainbow Dash spread her wings, to show them who and what she was. One of them laughed haughtily, and his hand flashed with magic. That was a disadvantage for the assassins, it was very difficult to tell whether or not the person was a magician. A bolt of light shot from his hand and wrapped around her. Her hidden blade hand was lashed to her waist, though her left hand was still free. Her legs were locked together. Binding spells were illegal, but of course the underground magicians would know them and use them to their advantage. The man who had cast the spell got down on a knee and held his hand out, maintaining the spell, while the other moved toward her. He took hold of her right arm, and tried to lift her from the ground. Rainbow Dash used her left hand to throw a hard punch into his face, landing it squarely on his nose. He grunted and fell back, blood flowing from his face. Rage turned his face red. He charged her and kicked her across the thigh, bruising it. She clenched her teeth, trying not to let the pain affect her. Pressing against the bindings, she managed to slide her other hand free. Although it was a magical spell, it was as tangible as any ordinary rope or chain. As the man charged her again, she leaned backward, allowing the taut restraints to hold her up, and as the thug swung a fist at her face, she ducked beneath the blow and then jerked forward, smashed her knuckles into his neck, and then rammed her skull into his stomach. He doubled over, and before he could recover, Rainbow Dash smashed both forearms across his back. He dropped, bruised and bloody, to the ground. The magician pulled on the magical tendons, and Rainbow Dash fell forward, and was dragged toward him. It was painful, the cobblestone street scraping against her torso and thighs. Unfortunately, her pants did not reach past mid-thigh, but then, she had not been expecting a random fight in the middle of a mission. All of her armor was stashed away in a secret location approximately a mile from where she was. The thug pulled her directly below him. He leaned down, speaking softly. “You, my dear, don't go around smashing up my friends. I'm going to have to kill you for that. I'll make it slow. And I think I'll make her,” he pointed at the other woman, who was now bloody from multiple attacks from the two men holding her, “watch. Now, if you'll just stand up, we can begin.” “You bastard.” Rainbow Dash spat on the ground in front of him. She was replied with a sharp kick to the jaw. “I'll teach you some respect, girl.” he kicked her again, this time in the side. A sharp, fiery pain lanced up her right side, and spread across her torso. She winced, and took a few painful breaths. “Enough...enough of this.” she whispered. “What was that? I like being able to hear my slaves.” “YOU BITCH!” Rainbow Dash flexed her wrist, and gored him through the top of his foot. His scream echoed back and forth between the tight walls of the alleyway. She kicked up from the vanished magic, and quickly bashed him across the neck with her elbow. He dropped to the ground, bleeding and unconscious. Rainbow Dash looked at the other two men. One let go of the other woman, and ran away. The other one was stupid enough to charge the assassin. Rainbow braced herself, and ducked under his body, allowing the momentum to work toward her advantage. She side-stepped and pushed him past her, grabbing his arm and forcing him around to crash into the stone wall. He fell backward, his nose crushed and bleeding in gushes of red. Rainbow Dash took a deep breath. The adrenaline rush had given her energy, but that was unneeded now. She strode toward the woman. Her hair was dirty and tangled, her wings were battered, as though they had been the target of abuse. She was breathing heavily, her clothes in tatters. “Th-thank you, ma'am... I knew what they were planning... It happened to my sister...” Rainbow Dash pushed a finger against her lips. Removing her outer shirt, and revealing her heavy set armored underclothing, she handed the clothing to the woman, and whispered, “Fly. Fly home. Spread your wings, be proud of who you are. Heal, rest, and if you hear of me, know that I am fighting for our race.” With that, Rainbow Dash pressed a firm hand against the woman's shoulder, and propelled herself straight upward, along the wall, using the handholds in various places to give herself momentum, and she shot up into the sky. It felt amazing, flying up this high, freedom in the air, out of reach of any of the other people. Closing her wings slightly, she dropped down, throwing herself forward in an aerial flip, and she twisted around to land firmly on the highest rooftop that she knew of in Canterlot. From here, she had the best view, of every building straight to the castle. The castle, where Celestia was sitting, wasting money on soldiers and self-pleasuring eccentricities, was surrounded by something similar to what Shining Armor had put up around all of Canterlot. It was not a light purple, it was a very dark yellow, like gold stained with blood. Black blood. And it seemed to snap as if alive with energy, and sometimes sound would echo over Canterlot, presumably, as Twilight Sparkle had suggested, from the re-energization from the spell. Rainbow Dash ran lightly across the rooftops, toward where she had stashed her equipment. She had wasted time with the thugs, but she had felt good, rescuing her fellow flier. Now, she was in a hurry. She had no idea the precise time in which her target would be leaving his room, and it was absolutely imperative that she be there to follow him toward her goal. Reaching her destination, she slid down a small alley, climbed a ladder to a hidden scaffolding, and looked around. She needed to make sure she had not been followed. Confirming her solitude, she reached into the wall in front of her and released a short clasp, and opened a hidden door. Inside was a relatively large space, and stashed away were her weapons and armor. She fitted on her greaves and bracers, secured the clips, and then replaced the shirt she had given away with a heavy white garment. She then slipped on a skirt made of chain mail, and secured the belt. Onto the belt, she clasped her sword and it's sheath on the left, and on the right she placed her dagger, and secured the weapons. When this was all in place, she donned her white cloak, bearing the symbol of the Elements of Harmony, and pulled the hood low over her face. She retied her boots, and then closed the hidden door. Crouching down, she placed her hands on the wood beneath her, and spread her wings, pushing the cloak back between her shoulders. Closing her eyes and breathing calmly, she pushed her wings down and jumped upward, flapping her wings hard and fast. The blue feathers spread to either side of her were seemingly endless, fading into the blue of the cloudless sky. Once she was a considerable height, she located the buildings she needed to be at, and soared toward them. She was so high that she was hardly able to spot specific individuals on the ground. As she reached her destination, she lowered her altitude and began coasting down. She reached the roof that she had been laying on a half hour before, and dropped straight down, her cloak flapping in the wind. Landing smoothly, she sat down to wait. Thunderbolt (Part 2)Thunder Bolt (Part 2) It had been close to half an hour. Rainbow Dash was still laying, undetected, on the eaves of the roof, above the building her target was supposedly in. She was unbelievably bored. As a trained assassin she was guided to have a far better concept of patience than most, but this was just torture. She had been on several missions, but this was only her third kill assignment. A noise caught her attention. She fixed her gaze on the door, only to discover that it was a rather large bird resting on the roof. It looked to be an eagle, from the size of it. Rainbow ignored it, and returned to staring at the door. He should have come out by now. She decided if she did not see him in the next half hour she would personally break down the door and investigate herself. Time passed. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty five. Rainbow Dash had almost made up her mind to charge in and use submissive force, when the door creaked open. The eagle lifted his wings and flew away. Rainbow Dash watched the suspected criminal as he closed and locked the door, then turned and began heading toward a set of stairs, which brought him down to the ground level. The assassin crawled to the edge of the roof she was stationed on, and watched her target move. She marked his clothing: a brown leather jacket, black slacks, normal running shoes. He was probably expecting someone to be following him and he was not to be caught off guard. Rainbow jumped from the roof and landed on the balcony below it, her cape billowing out above her. The man was now on the ground. Rainbow moved quickly across some roofing, down a flight of steps, and then jumped down to the same elevation. The second she hit the ground, she pumped her legs to catch up to the man. She spotted him quickly, moving through the crowd at a rapid pace. Moving slower, she tailed him through a large crowd, through a few different streets, through an alley, and then back into an abandoned section of the city. A small minority of the people lived there, the oppressed with barely enough money to stay alive. Rainbow ducked behind a pile of broken crates and watched the man. He looked around, ensuring that nobody had been following, and then he pushed on a wall in front of him. The section of bricks moved inward, and slid to the left. “Fake walls...” Rainbow Dash whispered to herself. This was new. The man disappeared inside the hidden room. The second the door slid back and shut again, Rainbow Dash jumped up and sprinted forward. She leaned on the wall next to the fake section of the wall. Using her hands, she felt along the wall and found the slight ridge where the two pieces of the wall were not connected. Waiting to ensure that the man could not hear her entrance, she stood in front of the wall for a minute. Losing her patience, she reached behind her and pushed against the wall. Her fingers scraped the fake brickwork as is slid back and to her right. Stepping backwards, she disappeared into the darkness. Finding a corner of the hidden room, she sat down, bracing her hands against the ground until it was pitch black around her. The door sealed itself to the wall once more, and she could barely see. But that was better than most. Having trained her eyes to see well in the dark, she steadied her breathing as her maroon eyes adjusted to the absence of constant light. When she was ready she started moving again, able to see the walls and corners amidst the extreme blackness. The corridors were many and twisting, going back and forth, and soon enough Rainbow Dash was able to tell that the floors were sloped at the slightest, least noticeable angle. However, her keen senses managed to pick it up fairly quickly. The tunnel led down, down, and further down. The light got a bit brighter, and she was able to see a few tunnels branching off in other directions at times. With this new puzzle, Rainbow Dash stopped, and leaned against the wall. She looked at the floor, trying to think. If her target had taken a path that branched away, he would be difficult to find, particularly if he had turned away from the main tunnel farther back. Examining the floor, Rainbow was able to make out tracks. Not individual sets of boots that had come recently, but many, many pairs of footwear passing through here over a period of several years. The stone flooring was worn in the center. Standing again, she cursed herself for wasting time and she sprinted as silently as she could down the tunnel. Minutes passed as she ran. It wouldn't be a problem for her, she was very physically fit and she could run flat out for more than an hour. But how long was this tunnel? A sudden noise halted her. She stopped and knelt down to the ground, listening. Voices. Smiling, she stared forward and was able to make out a slightly brighter light. It was flickering, like- “Fire.” Rainbow Dash stood and walked toward the light. There was a door, slightly open, giving her a perfect spot to get a glimpse of what she was after. Peering around the door, she studied what she was looking at. There were several men, and a few women. The men were dressed as though they were rolling in money, fancy suits and hats. The women were entirely different. They looked like they had been pulled off the streets. They were scantily clad in the clothing of an everyday whore. They were very exposed, and were mocked, laughed at, and prodded by the men. Rainbow Dash looked around a wide room, seeing a large fire set up in the rough center, burning brightly. A few groups of men were conversing quietly, and others were flirting with the girls, who had no choice but to succumb to their demands. Rainbow Dash had to stop herself from tearing out her sword and slaughtering all the people. Two of the slave girls were Aviators. Their wings were battered and bloody. “Attention! Attention please!” One man had stepped up, holding a glass of what appeared to be alcohol. He waited for the gathered people to give him the attention he had demanded, and then he spoke. “Gentlemen.” He nodded to the various men. “And our finely dressed ladies.” Majority of the people laughed at the women, who were staring furiously at the man. Rainbow Dash got a good look at his face and was surprised at who she saw. “Prince Blueblood?” she whispered to herself. She reflexively slid out her hidden blade. Her target was her target, no matter who it was. Royalty or no, he had to die. There was no sign of the man she had followed here. “You all have come to celebrate with me! For we have achieved much in this past year, and today you will all receive a portion of what has arrived this morning! Allow me to demonstrate. You,” he pointed at one of the winged girls. Rainbow Dash narrowed her eyes. There was nothing she could do just yet. “Come up here.” The assassin noticed her wings. The girl who had been summoned was the same one she had rescued. How had she been caught again? What little clothing she was wearing had left her shivering. The underground area was colder. Moving quickly, Rainbow Dash silently pushed the door outward, slowly, until she could fit through it. Thankfully there were piles of crates all over the floor, and she was able to hide behind a few of them before she was spotted. “Now, as you will see, our new product has quite an effect, but most particularly it was designed for the fine females of this glorious city. The effects are almost immediate. Do observe.” He withdrew a syringe from a small case that he had pulled from his pocket. Forcing the girl around, he held her arm out, and slowly injected the needle's contents into her blood. After he removed the needle, he stood back, waiting for the drugs to take effect. The girl stood, motionless. She blinked. A second later, she began to breathe unnaturally loud. Even Rainbow Dash, who was some distance away, could hear it. “Allow me to explain.” Blueblood continued. “The drugs target the brain, but not the entire thing. Only the areas devoted to memory and thinking. Through this drug, a person becomes completely incapacitated and essentially no more than an animal. This leaves you, our fine customers, to use the girl however you will!!” At this, he put on a wry smile as he removed his outer coat, and handed it to a man who stood close by him. Reaching out to the girl, he touched her shoulder. She hardly reacted. She just looked at him with a blank stare. Her orange eyes gazed at nothing. The Prince turned the girl to look at him. She did nothing to resist. Her breathing had slowed. She looked almost normal. Blueblood reached over her shoulder and flicked the plastic clasp that held what was left of her clothing. The piece of clothing that had covered her chest hit the floor. The girl looked at it on the ground, not reacting to the fact that she was now bare-chested in front of a crowd of lustful men. Blueblood turned to the crowd and smiled. “First four pounds you will have on me, in honor of our achievements, but after that, we will have prices! You may take from the stores in the crates behind you!” He pointed to the piles of boxes that Rainbow Dash was hiding behind. “Damn it.” She opened her bag and pulled out a fistful of powder. Twilight had developed this as a resource of either distraction or escape. Jumping up, she leaped onto the crates in front of her, revealing herself to the crowd. “You'll do nothing with this trash, you vermin!” she yelled at the Prince. The drug dealers laughed and advanced toward her, unsheathing deadly looking knives, and a few had swords. Rainbow Dash jumped to the ground in front of the men and threw the powder in her hand at the ground. An explosion of air rushed at her face as the powder rushed outward, creating a large cloud of dust impossible to see through. Rainbow Dash heard the men stop blindly and shout to one another. She jumped and rolled out one side of the cloud, and was pleased to see that a number of the men had pushed into the smoke. Sneaking behind a pair, she stabbed one in the back with her hidden blade, and slashed open the back of the other. The fell in a lot of pain, screaming insults at her while trying to stop the blood. Ignoring the rest of the men, Rainbow Dash shoved aside one of the girls and charged up the room toward Blueblood. He laughed, and pulled something small and funny looking out of his shirt. He pointed it at Rainbow Dash. Instinctively, she knew whatever he had was bad. Assuming her life was on the line, she began weaving left and right as she made her way toward him. He narrowed his eyes, and then there was a loud bang. It was so unbelievably loud, Rainbow's ears rang with the sound. Her head vibrated. But almost immediately after the noise, something slammed into her shoulder, just below her collarbone. Pain rocketed through her. Her arm went numb. Blood seeped from the wound and fell in streams down her clothing, staining her armor and cloak. Shock went through her head. What technology was this? This thing that could fire a high-speed projectile that ripped through armor and tore through her body? A harsh, loud, familiar yell forced her mind back to the situation. Rainbow Dash was now lying on the ground, gripping her shoulder and clenching her teeth. Looking around, she saw a person wrapped in black clothing, with a light gray cloak similar to her own wrapped around her. The person was walking toward Blueblood with a look of murderous intent in their stride. As the person picked up speed, the cloak fell away, and yellow hair streaked behind the woman. She was tall, and her muscles rippled with fresh energy. Blueblood started panicking. He grabbed the girl he had drugged and pulled her in front of him. Applejack hesitated, then picked up a sprint, flexed her wrist, jumped onto a table, and used her momentum to push her body above Blueblood. When she landed behind him, he didn't have time to turn the girl as well as himself. He made it halfway around, before Applejack swept his legs from under him and punched him to the ground. The girl dropped to the floor and lay there, not moving, her red wings flat against the ground. Rainbow Dash struggled to stand. The men who had been distracted by the smoke were beginning to recover. She was a vulnerable girl now, unable to defend herself. Her sword arm was useless. She turned and watched as Applejack kicked away the tool he had used to injure Rainbow, and she jabbed her blade into his throat, and pulled it out just as quickly. Blood sprayed up and over his body, staining his clothes and leaving a red puddle on the ground. Dash managed to stand. She hobbled over to the girl. She was unconscious. Supposing that it was a side effect of the drugs, Rainbow flexed her wrist to reveal the only weapon she could use at the moment. Applejack sprinted down toward her. “Ya'll okay, sugarcube?” she asked. Rainbow started to nod, and then doubled over as fresh pain racked her shoulder and arm. “Roseluck!” Applejack yelled. Another girl, smaller, and younger, ran in from the door. “Help the girl, and Ah'll carry Dash. Think ya'll can hold her okay?” The young assassin tested the weight of the limp Aviator. “Yeah, I can carry her.” She lifted the girl up in both arms. Carrying her over to where Applejack had dropped her cloak, she set her down again, covered her body with the cape, and picked her up again. She had been shamed enough. Rainbow Dash looked around. The other attenders of the gathering had fled, the other girls were nowhere in sight. “Don't move too much, Rainbow, we gonna get you home. Fluttershy c'n help ya. You good, Rose?” “Yeah! Let's go!” “New kid,” she explained to Dash. Rainbow smiled, and then passed out.
DiamondsChapter 1: Diamonds Night reigned over Canterlot. But not like it used to. It used to be beautiful. It used to be peaceful, it used to be silent. It used to be watched over by the beautiful Princess of the Night, Luna. Now it was hideous. Lights on in the rich homes, loud shouting. Drinking. The rich becoming richer and the poor crawling through the dust of life and getting from one thing to the next. The hooded person stood atop a flat-roofed building. Her face was covered by a black mask, only her sapphire eyes visible beneath the black hood. She looked upon Canterlot with hate and malice. The Capitol she had once known was ruined by a corrupt government. Celestia refusing to assist her people in correcting the economy, as she was required to do. There was only one word for it. Anarchy. The woman looked at the area within a hundred or so yards of where she stood. Five buildings, two with flat roofing and the others with angled slants, between her and her target. She was after a politician. He had done only what suited himself, only that which would benefit him in his position. He had to die. The woman made sure her weapons were secure and ready before she moved. She jumped from the roof of the building she stood on, and landed eight or nine feet below on the next roof. She heard steps and she slipped back down the side of the building, holding on to a ledge. Peeking up above the side, she saw a single guard, carrying a spear, walking back and forth, peering over the edges at the ground below. The woman slid out her weapon, a short blade concealed under her clothing attached to her right wrist. She waited. Her target walked to the edge of the roof that the assassin clung to. He looked over, and did not have time to react before the blade inserted itself into his throat and sprayed blood all over the woman and the wall behind her. The guard was heavy, with the armor, and now dead, he was simply that, a deadweight. The woman yanked her blade out, more blood gushing out, and pulled herself up onto the roof as the guard tumbled down to the ground, hitting the dirt with a quiet thud. The spear followed, cracking against the ground, and ringing with an echo between the walls. The assassin jumped to the next roof, an angled one with gray shingles, and latched onto the lightning rod that sprung up from the middle, waiting to see if more soldiers had heard and were coming. No sound. The assassin continued along the roof. The next jump was simple, onto another angled roof. She managed to balance herself on the gable, sticking out from the side. The next roof was too high up for her to simply jump up to the side. Her hand flashed flashed, and she used magic, carrying her body to where she wanted it to go. She disappeared from sight, then reappeared atop the roof. A whistling sound came to her ears. She flipped around, grabbed the spear from the hands of the unprepared soldier, turned the weapon around, and hit the man under the chin with the butt of the weapon. The sharp clack of his teeth connecting was painfully loud, more so for him than for the assassin. He let out a painful yell, and the woman tackled him down, forcing his mouth shut. She opened her hidden blade, and cut open his throat, more blood spurting out, and killing the stallion. The assassin back away from her kill, and jumped away from the edge. Crouching down, she wiped the blood from her face. It was warm, sticky, and not at all pleasant. She pulled out a cloth from her bag and cleaned her blade. The fabric was brand new, yet it was already coated with red stains. When she was ready, the assassin stood and kept moving. Her target was in a building just over the next one. Leaving no tracks, she jumped into the air and teleported up to the roof of the next building, and pressed herself flat against the side of the angled roofing. The laughing from the party reached her listening ears. There were drunk people in there. Civilians. People she did not have to hurt. But she still hated them. Rich asses who did nothing with their lives other than suck money out of the poor, and use that money for their own pleasure. Three windows open in the house, more than likely to let in oxygen for the drunk party-goers. But a window, in every sense, of opportunity for the assassin. Her task, to slip in poison in her target's food or drink. Her mission, claim a series of documents in his desk. The difficulty and danger of the mission, relatively high. But she had to do it. To bring about peace and justice to Equestria. It had to be done. The woman cast an invisibility spell over herself, and leaped through the window. Unfortunately, none of the magicians had yet found the spell that would cast infinite invisibility, so she had to move fast. She had maybe forty-seven seconds, or, at least, that was what she was told when she was briefed for the mission. Now, among the dozen or so drunk and happy people, she looked for her window of opportunity. Her target was on the opposite side of the room. He was happily having at a beer, whilst flirting with a pair of maids who looked almost certainly drunk out of their wits. Had she not been there to take care of business, there almost certainly would have been sexual action later in the night. But before she could dwell on her victory, she had to emerge victorious. Using her time wisely, she jumped between two men having a conversation about something she could hardly understand, slipped behind a woman who was alone, and then edged along the left wall toward her target. She positioned herself, counting the seconds she had left. Eighteen. There was a man in her way. Seventeen. Sixteen. The man moved. Fifteen. The assassin jumped, but a drunk member of the party tripped over something and crashed on top of her, flattening her to the floor. Fourteen. Thirteen. Scrambling up and shoving the person away, the assassin dove under the table that held the drinks and food. Twelve. Eleven. The woman slipped the vial of poison from her bag, gripping it with tight fingers. Ten. She rolled out from under the table, jumped up next to her target. Nine. Eight. Seven. She popped the vial open, letting the cap fall to the ground. Six. The assassin positioned herself next to the politician, waited for his drink to stand still in his shaking, drunken hand. Five. Four. Her moment jumped in front of her. Three. She tipped the vial, and several drops of clear liquid dripped from it into the bottle of alcohol. Two. The woman slipped the bottle into her bag, dropped back to the ground, and rolled under the table once more. One. The assassin watched her body become visible once more. Now, she had merely minutes to get out of there before the man was dead and she was discovered. The talking and laughing and random singing going on in the room had suddenly become much lower. Wary, she check her hood was still up, and she peeked up out of the cloth covering the table. Three armed guards had come into the room. Damn.... the assassin thought. This wasn't expected. She was told it was a private party, and she was to get in, kill, filch, and get out. Now, if the soldiers stayed for too long, her target would die under their watchful eyes. The soldiers were mostly certainly not drunk. One pair of people had become a bit excessive in their attraction, and were kissing fondly, while the man gripped his prey tightly and was pulling her toward one of the several bedrooms in the house. The woman waited for her chance. The soldiers were walking among the people, who had begun laughing and talking once more, their slurred, drunken voices echoing back and forth against the walls of the house. The assassin waited, and eventually the soldiers disappeared from sight. She glanced around the room from under the table, and then jumped up, and dashed into the office containing the politician's desk, and, more than likely, her target. Quietly closing the door, she made for the desk. Several draws were closed, but two were open, both full of manilla folders, which in turn were filled with papers. The assassin rifled through the documents until she found what she had been looking for. She yanked the pages from the drawer, and tucked them under her clothing. She turned to leave, but another item on the desk caught her eye. Two words across the folder: Algorithm Project. The assassin opened the folder, and the first page had the word CLASSIFIED stamped in large red letters across the top. Reason enough. She took the folder and placed it with the first one, and then heard a hefty thump. Her target was dead. A few harsh screams were heard, and among those a bit of boisterous laughing. Several thuds and footsteps were heard, quick and heavy. The assassin opened the door, and was immediately surrounded by three heavy spears. The soldiers had come back. “Damn it all.” she whispered to herself. “Look here, stupid girl, you see what you did? You just got yourself a life sentence to prison.” The guard moved to grab her hands, chain manacles in the other. The woman slapped away his hand and drew her sword. It was a pure silver blade, set with a diamond in the pommel and her code name printed in a foreign language along the blade. The soldiers laughed and advanced toward her. She knocked away the spear of one man, kicked him, hard, directly in the crotch, and swung her sword around to guard her other side, all in just a few moments. The one she had kicked was moaning and clutching his genitalia, lying on the ground. The other two soldiers backed away a few feet. “Got a bit of a fight in you, huh?” One said. “Maybe I can relieve some of that when we're done here. You have a nice body there...” he dropped his spear and pulled out a long knife. The other soldier re-gripped his hands and aimed the spear at her chest. The woman flexed her hands. “My body is my own and not for you to touch, with your blade or with your hands.” She swung her sword wildly in the direction of the one who had been speaking, forcing him to jump backwards to avoid her blow. The other soldier was not so prepared, and his spear was sliced in half by her sword, and then his throat pierced by her hidden blade. The woman pulled the sharp edge free of his flesh, and let him fall, clutching his throat, attempting to live for a moment longer. The last soldier charged her, a stupid decision in all aspects. She flicked her sword up, blocking his strike and forcing his blade to glance upwards, and jammed her hidden blade into his lungs as his momentum carried him past. A moment later she heard the thump as his body fell. She turned and looked at the carnage. The party-goers were watching, silently. Then, one at a time, they all began clapping and cheering, as though it were some wild performance brought in to entertain them. They would have some surprises in the morning. Quickly, the woman started walking away, when something latched onto her ankle. It was the soldier she had injured but not killed. She kicked away his hand, and stabbed him to death with her sword. Bounding across the room, she jumped back out the window she had entered in, smiling at the laughing and talking people, thinking they had been entertained. The assassin landed on the roof below, and slipped underneath the eaves of the roof. She checked the folders and made sure they were safe, checked her weapons again, and then disappeared into the night. The laughing continued from the building, for long after she had disappeared.
ApplesChapter 2 Apples Applejack sat down in the chair. She would be leaving soon. Her room in the hospital was bare. Her weapons all lay in a neat pile on the bed. Her short sword, her hidden blade, all of it. Her hands were white. She hated hospitals. Her fists were clenched up against her thighs. She just wanted to get with her mission and leave this damned place. She was having her condition checked, as every assassin was required to do before a mission. The head medic was to be coming in any moment to check her vitals one more time. Applejack hated waiting. To pass the time, she strapped on her hidden blade, flexing her wrist back and forth, mesmerized by the blade's movements. Her effort was wasted, however, as the nurse walked in a moment later and closed the door behind her. “Miss Redheart.” Applejack greeted the woman. “Applejack. You know the procedure, I don't need to tell you.” The woman removed a few items from a sterilized bag, and placed them on a steel table. Applejack unclasped the hidden blade, letting it fall to the floor. Her tanned, calloused fingers were pale in the cold hospital light. She stood from the chair, walked to the bed, and began stripping down to her underclothing. She hated doing this. It felt an invasion of her privacy. But the nurse that was assigned to each assassin was relative to his or her gender. Redheart was the best of them. Once free of her outer clothing, Applejack sat down. Her black lingerie made her feel totally exposed. She would rather be entirely naked. It was cold, as well, and she had to force herself to stop shivering. She looked down at her thigh, admiring her Cutie Mark, as she often did on such occasions. Redheart came over to her and strapped a band around her upper arm, which began to squeeze. After a few moments, the pressure vanished and Applejack flexed her arms. “Your blood pressure is normal.” Redheart said. The nurse removed the strap, and then placed a stethoscope on either side of her head. She moved the metal plate and pressed it against Applejack's chest. It was ice cold. Her chest tingled. “Slightly raised heartbeat, nothing out of the ordinary. How do you feel?” “Jus' fine, ma'am. Ah'm ready to go.” Redheart removed the stethoscope and stepped back. Her eyes glanced up and down Applejack's body, and then she nodded. “Get dressed. They want you in the briefing room. The last mission was a success.” Redheart turned her back, picked up her things, and exited the room. The door clicked softly. Applejack stood up. She was ready for this. But preparation was key. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra. The black underclothing hit the ground. Applejack took a deep breath, the open air felt nice without something wrapped around her torso. But it could be worse. She turned to the bed and picked up a heavy, more covering type of underclothing. She slipped it on, clipping it on either side. She slid on her tight leggings, struggling into the flexible cloth, and then her black leather pants. Over the upper underclothing she put on a black shirt, and then a heavy black leather jacket. She was used to the weight, it was what she trained for. It had also helped that she had grown up on a farm, pulling more than her own weight since she was nine years old. Over everything she was now wearing, she donned a light cloak, gray, lined with white silk. The symbol of the six Elements of Harmony was stitched into the back of the cloak. Applejack clipped on her belt, onto which she secured her sword and her dagger. She wrapped the straps on her hidden blade around her wrist, secured the clasp, and flexed her wrist, testing it. The blade slid out quickly and cleanly. Relaxing, the blade moved back. Applejack threw on the hood, covering her orange hair, and she opened the door. She took a deep breath, feeling the heavy cloth stretch as her breasts pushed it outward. Blinking, she turned left and headed down the hall. In the briefing room, several people stood waiting. Applejack leaned against a wall, keeping a steady breathing rate. When all the other assassins and instigators and investigators were yelling at each other about one thing or another, Applejack just sat quietly, and ignored everything unless she was directly spoken too. The people in the room consisted of Rainbow Dash, who was dressed in a similar manner, Twilight Sparkle, who was wearing a light dress, Fluttershy, who was sitting in a chair studying a pile of papers, and several other persons involved with the current mission. Applejack looked up. Someone was missing. Suddenly the door crashed open and another assassin walked in. She was covered in blood, her white cloak and heavy clothing stained red with the stuff. She had clearly had a hard night. She pulled out a folder of documents, and set them on the table. “What you requested, Twilight, Darling. Now, if you please, I must relieve myself of this awfully dirty outfit.” The woman removed the brooch and cast off her cloak. Her blue hair, matted with sweat and blood, swung out behind her, spreading over her back. “Rarity, you look fine. How did it go?” Twilight asked. “Oh, just lovely. I had to kill a few extra guards, they gave me quite a start. The target is dead. Your documents are here.” “Well done. Now, you may retire and rest. We may need you again.” Rarity picked up her cloak, and started to leave. Half way through the door, she stopped. Turning around, she reached into her clothing again and withdrew another series of files. “I'd almost forgotten. I found this. Explain, Twilight.” She dropped the files in front of the woman. Twilight Sparkle slowly picked them up. Applejack strained her neck to see. “Twilight Sparkle, what is the Algorithm Project?” Rarity dropped her cloak on the table and sat down. Applejack narrowed her eyes and moved to sit down next to her.
Thunderbolt (Part 1)Chapter 3 Thunderbolt Rainbow Dash stood in the streets of the marketplace of Canterlot. Her back was to the wall of a building, and her eyes darted back and forth, watching the soldiers. She had removed her assassin's clothing, in order to look as though any other civilian. The only weapon she had available was her hidden blade. Well, she did have her wings, but those weren't necessarily a weapon. She reviewed her assignment once again in her head. There was a man running a large black market in Canterlot, and he was buying and selling illegal drugs. The man would have been disposed of already, had Princess Celestia been doing her job. But that was not the case. For some reason, Twilight had said that an assassin with wings was needed. Rainbow Dash did not inquire why, she imagined she would find out soon enough. There were three classes of assassins working for Twilight Sparkle and the rest of the resistance force: Meister, Aviator, and Mage. Each had it's own unique abilities. The Meisters, they were superior to the others in terms of body strength. They were tough, and could hold their own against several enemies even with the weight of armor. The Aviators, they had wings and flight capabilities, and were extremely fast and nimble. Better for getting in, killing, and getting out than the other assassins. Their wings were kept hidden from sight by a design of clothing that Rarity had come up with, with allowed them to be folded comfortably against the back. Then there were the Mages. They were relatively strong, and they had magic capabilities that allowed fantastic abilities such as invisibility or teleportation. Rainbow Dash, of course, was an Aviator. Rarity and Twilight were Mages, Applejack and Pinkie Pie were Meisters. Fluttershy was an Aviator, but she seldom went on kill missions. Which is what Rainbow Dash was doing now. She looked up, and moved through the crowd. She was listening. Listening for any hint of given information about her target. Several people were bound to be involved in the black market she was after. Rainbow Dash saw a short building rise in front of her. She sprinted toward it, and pushed up on it's side, grasping a window sill, and then pushing with her hand to another hold, before heaving herself onto the roof. She lay down on top, listening to the buzz of the crowd. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking for anything suspicious. She saw a pair of people standing alone on the far side of the street. Rolling to the right and off the roof, and landed on one knee, one hand pressed against the ground for balance. They were men, one was glancing around nervously, and one had a black hood, which was inadvisable in the heat. Rainbow Dash sprinted through the crowd, dodging between people carrying various things, without causing a single disturbance. She slid behind a merchant stall, and steadied her breathing as she tried to block out all noise. She had to hear what they were saying. Closing here eyes, she folded her hands, leaned against the stall, and breathed calmly. “Did it come?” “I heard the order came this morning. It should be ready to pick up in about an hour. You need your money, though. They won't take any later payments, or any of that crap.” “I can do that.” “Good. I'll see you down there. Remember, password's 'threshold of blood'.” Rainbow Dash opened her eyes, and jumped up. She climbed up the wall in front of her, easily reaching the rooftop. She picked out the two men among the crowd, both of whom were moving in different directions now. She guessed which one was which, and followed the one who had received the information, rather than the one who had it. She crawled along the rooftops, keeping her eyes on her target and feeling with her hands where she was and how she had to move. Eventually, she jumped down off the roof and followed the man straight through the crowd. She pulled up her hood over her rainbow hair. It was too recognizable. Very few people had hair like hers. Pushing through the crowd, she maintained her distance, while her gaze remaining locked on his head. Her hidden blade was tight against her wrist. Sweat began forming on her head and her arms. The heat was not helping. However, despite her being very fit and toned with muscle, her counterpart was not the same. He was slowing down. He was constantly wiping his forehead. Rainbow Dash eventually became relatively close. She could have taken three large strides toward him and cut open his back, but she needed to keep him alive. He was a source of information. In a couple of hours, as was suggested by the other man, he would be moving toward the pickup zone fore whatever was being sold illegally, and she would be following him to the doorstep. The man finally made a turn out of the crowd, and moved down a side street, presumably to his home. Rainbow Dash felt uncomfortable in closed in spaces, so before she entered the alley, she shot out her wings, and jumped up into the air. It was odd, in front of the other people. Very few wing-clad people were left in Canterlot, it had seemed that it was almost a public offense to have wings. Racism had sprung up, since Celestia had retreated into her own world. The magic-users were popular. Wizards, they were called. Wizards, and, well, normal people, were far more common and took up more of the population. Rainbow Dash hated the racism. She had seen it up close and personal in Canterlot, on several missions, and had taken to “fixing” the issue. Rainbow Dash pumped her wings, and landed on the buildings above the street. Folding her wings back, she watched the man below, as he moved a bit faster, out of the sun. she trailed him, keeping her eyes locked. He took several turns, and eventually moved up a flight of stairs into an apartment building. He walked along a balcony, and then stopped at a door marked 23. Rainbow Dash shot a mental image, and then jumped up to a higher roof, thankfully there was a green overhang that provided some decent shade. She lay down underneath it, watching the door. The man had disappeared inside the room. Rainbow Dash, after several minutes, jumped off the roof, snapped open her wings, and coasted down toward the ground, landing between two buildings. She dropped one hand down to steady herself. A shriek reached her ears. Folding her wings, she moved through the buildings toward the noise. “STOP!” a high pitched, female voice echoed between the buildings. Rainbow Dash moved faster. There was a building on a corner, a small shop, with a window on either side. She could see clearly through the windows, and was immediately aware of who had made the shout, and why. A woman, with red wings, and fiery hair, was held up against a wall, by some thugs. They were rough men, all with hefty muscles, and evil grins on their fat faces. Rainbow Dash watched, in silence as the woman received multiple hits from hard fists. She was intending to stay out of a fight, she could not risk being exposed as an assassin. If she did, she would have to kill the men, forcing her to be notorious if she couldn't hide the bodies. But once the racism reached a different turning point, she acted. One of the thugs grabbed her shirt and tore it away, leaving a few shreds of cloth and a simple piece of lingerie covering her breasts. “Damn it..” Rainbow Dash said to herself. She sprinted to the corner of the building, took a deep breath, and stepped out. “Hey.” The thugs turned and saw her. “Another bitch?” One said. Rainbow Dash narrowed her eyes. The woman being pressed against the wall, nearly naked, gazed at her with a glint of hope in her bright, orange pupils. Two of the men advanced toward Rainbow Dash, the other two holding back the other woman. The assassin took a short fighting stance, lowering herself closer to the ground. The men laughed, and one pulled a short knife from his belt. Rainbow Dash spread her wings, to show them who and what she was. One of them laughed haughtily, and his hand flashed with magic. That was a disadvantage for the assassins, it was very difficult to tell whether or not the person was a magician. A bolt of light shot from his hand and wrapped around her. Her hidden blade hand was lashed to her waist, though her left hand was still free. Her legs were locked together. Binding spells were illegal, but of course the underground magicians would know them and use them to their advantage. The man who had cast the spell got down on a knee and held his hand out, maintaining the spell, while the other moved toward her. He took hold of her right arm, and tried to lift her from the ground. Rainbow Dash used her left hand to throw a hard punch into his face, landing it squarely on his nose. He grunted and fell back, blood flowing from his face. Rage turned his face red. He charged her and kicked her across the thigh, bruising it. She clenched her teeth, trying not to let the pain affect her. Pressing against the bindings, she managed to slide her other hand free. Although it was a magical spell, it was as tangible as any ordinary rope or chain. As the man charged her again, she leaned backward, allowing the taut restraints to hold her up, and as the thug swung a fist at her face, she ducked beneath the blow and then jerked forward, smashed her knuckles into his neck, and then rammed her skull into his stomach. He doubled over, and before he could recover, Rainbow Dash smashed both forearms across his back. He dropped, bruised and bloody, to the ground. The magician pulled on the magical tendons, and Rainbow Dash fell forward, and was dragged toward him. It was painful, the cobblestone street scraping against her torso and thighs. Unfortunately, her pants did not reach past mid-thigh, but then, she had not been expecting a random fight in the middle of a mission. All of her armor was stashed away in a secret location approximately a mile from where she was. The thug pulled her directly below him. He leaned down, speaking softly. “You, my dear, don't go around smashing up my friends. I'm going to have to kill you for that. I'll make it slow. And I think I'll make her,” he pointed at the other woman, who was now bloody from multiple attacks from the two men holding her, “watch. Now, if you'll just stand up, we can begin.” “You bastard.” Rainbow Dash spat on the ground in front of him. She was replied with a sharp kick to the jaw. “I'll teach you some respect, girl.” he kicked her again, this time in the side. A sharp, fiery pain lanced up her right side, and spread across her torso. She winced, and took a few painful breaths. “Enough...enough of this.” she whispered. “What was that? I like being able to hear my slaves.” “YOU BITCH!” Rainbow Dash flexed her wrist, and gored him through the top of his foot. His scream echoed back and forth between the tight walls of the alleyway. She kicked up from the vanished magic, and quickly bashed him across the neck with her elbow. He dropped to the ground, bleeding and unconscious. Rainbow Dash looked at the other two men. One let go of the other woman, and ran away. The other one was stupid enough to charge the assassin. Rainbow braced herself, and ducked under his body, allowing the momentum to work toward her advantage. She side-stepped and pushed him past her, grabbing his arm and forcing him around to crash into the stone wall. He fell backward, his nose crushed and bleeding in gushes of red. Rainbow Dash took a deep breath. The adrenaline rush had given her energy, but that was unneeded now. She strode toward the woman. Her hair was dirty and tangled, her wings were battered, as though they had been the target of abuse. She was breathing heavily, her clothes in tatters. “Th-thank you, ma'am... I knew what they were planning... It happened to my sister...” Rainbow Dash pushed a finger against her lips. Removing her outer shirt, and revealing her heavy set armored underclothing, she handed the clothing to the woman, and whispered, “Fly. Fly home. Spread your wings, be proud of who you are. Heal, rest, and if you hear of me, know that I am fighting for our race.” With that, Rainbow Dash pressed a firm hand against the woman's shoulder, and propelled herself straight upward, along the wall, using the handholds in various places to give herself momentum, and she shot up into the sky. It felt amazing, flying up this high, freedom in the air, out of reach of any of the other people. Closing her wings slightly, she dropped down, throwing herself forward in an aerial flip, and she twisted around to land firmly on the highest rooftop that she knew of in Canterlot. From here, she had the best view, of every building straight to the castle. The castle, where Celestia was sitting, wasting money on soldiers and self-pleasuring eccentricities, was surrounded by something similar to what Shining Armor had put up around all of Canterlot. It was not a light purple, it was a very dark yellow, like gold stained with blood. Black blood. And it seemed to snap as if alive with energy, and sometimes sound would echo over Canterlot, presumably, as Twilight Sparkle had suggested, from the re-energization from the spell. Rainbow Dash ran lightly across the rooftops, toward where she had stashed her equipment. She had wasted time with the thugs, but she had felt good, rescuing her fellow flier. Now, she was in a hurry. She had no idea the precise time in which her target would be leaving his room, and it was absolutely imperative that she be there to follow him toward her goal. Reaching her destination, she slid down a small alley, climbed a ladder to a hidden scaffolding, and looked around. She needed to make sure she had not been followed. Confirming her solitude, she reached into the wall in front of her and released a short clasp, and opened a hidden door. Inside was a relatively large space, and stashed away were her weapons and armor. She fitted on her greaves and bracers, secured the clips, and then replaced the shirt she had given away with a heavy white garment. She then slipped on a skirt made of chain mail, and secured the belt. Onto the belt, she clasped her sword and it's sheath on the left, and on the right she placed her dagger, and secured the weapons. When this was all in place, she donned her white cloak, bearing the symbol of the Elements of Harmony, and pulled the hood low over her face. She retied her boots, and then closed the hidden door. Crouching down, she placed her hands on the wood beneath her, and spread her wings, pushing the cloak back between her shoulders. Closing her eyes and breathing calmly, she pushed her wings down and jumped upward, flapping her wings hard and fast. The blue feathers spread to either side of her were seemingly endless, fading into the blue of the cloudless sky. Once she was a considerable height, she located the buildings she needed to be at, and soared toward them. She was so high that she was hardly able to spot specific individuals on the ground. As she reached her destination, she lowered her altitude and began coasting down. She reached the roof that she had been laying on a half hour before, and dropped straight down, her cloak flapping in the wind. Landing smoothly, she sat down to wait.
Thunderbolt (Part 2)Thunder Bolt (Part 2) It had been close to half an hour. Rainbow Dash was still laying, undetected, on the eaves of the roof, above the building her target was supposedly in. She was unbelievably bored. As a trained assassin she was guided to have a far better concept of patience than most, but this was just torture. She had been on several missions, but this was only her third kill assignment. A noise caught her attention. She fixed her gaze on the door, only to discover that it was a rather large bird resting on the roof. It looked to be an eagle, from the size of it. Rainbow ignored it, and returned to staring at the door. He should have come out by now. She decided if she did not see him in the next half hour she would personally break down the door and investigate herself. Time passed. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty five. Rainbow Dash had almost made up her mind to charge in and use submissive force, when the door creaked open. The eagle lifted his wings and flew away. Rainbow Dash watched the suspected criminal as he closed and locked the door, then turned and began heading toward a set of stairs, which brought him down to the ground level. The assassin crawled to the edge of the roof she was stationed on, and watched her target move. She marked his clothing: a brown leather jacket, black slacks, normal running shoes. He was probably expecting someone to be following him and he was not to be caught off guard. Rainbow jumped from the roof and landed on the balcony below it, her cape billowing out above her. The man was now on the ground. Rainbow moved quickly across some roofing, down a flight of steps, and then jumped down to the same elevation. The second she hit the ground, she pumped her legs to catch up to the man. She spotted him quickly, moving through the crowd at a rapid pace. Moving slower, she tailed him through a large crowd, through a few different streets, through an alley, and then back into an abandoned section of the city. A small minority of the people lived there, the oppressed with barely enough money to stay alive. Rainbow ducked behind a pile of broken crates and watched the man. He looked around, ensuring that nobody had been following, and then he pushed on a wall in front of him. The section of bricks moved inward, and slid to the left. “Fake walls...” Rainbow Dash whispered to herself. This was new. The man disappeared inside the hidden room. The second the door slid back and shut again, Rainbow Dash jumped up and sprinted forward. She leaned on the wall next to the fake section of the wall. Using her hands, she felt along the wall and found the slight ridge where the two pieces of the wall were not connected. Waiting to ensure that the man could not hear her entrance, she stood in front of the wall for a minute. Losing her patience, she reached behind her and pushed against the wall. Her fingers scraped the fake brickwork as is slid back and to her right. Stepping backwards, she disappeared into the darkness. Finding a corner of the hidden room, she sat down, bracing her hands against the ground until it was pitch black around her. The door sealed itself to the wall once more, and she could barely see. But that was better than most. Having trained her eyes to see well in the dark, she steadied her breathing as her maroon eyes adjusted to the absence of constant light. When she was ready she started moving again, able to see the walls and corners amidst the extreme blackness. The corridors were many and twisting, going back and forth, and soon enough Rainbow Dash was able to tell that the floors were sloped at the slightest, least noticeable angle. However, her keen senses managed to pick it up fairly quickly. The tunnel led down, down, and further down. The light got a bit brighter, and she was able to see a few tunnels branching off in other directions at times. With this new puzzle, Rainbow Dash stopped, and leaned against the wall. She looked at the floor, trying to think. If her target had taken a path that branched away, he would be difficult to find, particularly if he had turned away from the main tunnel farther back. Examining the floor, Rainbow was able to make out tracks. Not individual sets of boots that had come recently, but many, many pairs of footwear passing through here over a period of several years. The stone flooring was worn in the center. Standing again, she cursed herself for wasting time and she sprinted as silently as she could down the tunnel. Minutes passed as she ran. It wouldn't be a problem for her, she was very physically fit and she could run flat out for more than an hour. But how long was this tunnel? A sudden noise halted her. She stopped and knelt down to the ground, listening. Voices. Smiling, she stared forward and was able to make out a slightly brighter light. It was flickering, like- “Fire.” Rainbow Dash stood and walked toward the light. There was a door, slightly open, giving her a perfect spot to get a glimpse of what she was after. Peering around the door, she studied what she was looking at. There were several men, and a few women. The men were dressed as though they were rolling in money, fancy suits and hats. The women were entirely different. They looked like they had been pulled off the streets. They were scantily clad in the clothing of an everyday whore. They were very exposed, and were mocked, laughed at, and prodded by the men. Rainbow Dash looked around a wide room, seeing a large fire set up in the rough center, burning brightly. A few groups of men were conversing quietly, and others were flirting with the girls, who had no choice but to succumb to their demands. Rainbow Dash had to stop herself from tearing out her sword and slaughtering all the people. Two of the slave girls were Aviators. Their wings were battered and bloody. “Attention! Attention please!” One man had stepped up, holding a glass of what appeared to be alcohol. He waited for the gathered people to give him the attention he had demanded, and then he spoke. “Gentlemen.” He nodded to the various men. “And our finely dressed ladies.” Majority of the people laughed at the women, who were staring furiously at the man. Rainbow Dash got a good look at his face and was surprised at who she saw. “Prince Blueblood?” she whispered to herself. She reflexively slid out her hidden blade. Her target was her target, no matter who it was. Royalty or no, he had to die. There was no sign of the man she had followed here. “You all have come to celebrate with me! For we have achieved much in this past year, and today you will all receive a portion of what has arrived this morning! Allow me to demonstrate. You,” he pointed at one of the winged girls. Rainbow Dash narrowed her eyes. There was nothing she could do just yet. “Come up here.” The assassin noticed her wings. The girl who had been summoned was the same one she had rescued. How had she been caught again? What little clothing she was wearing had left her shivering. The underground area was colder. Moving quickly, Rainbow Dash silently pushed the door outward, slowly, until she could fit through it. Thankfully there were piles of crates all over the floor, and she was able to hide behind a few of them before she was spotted. “Now, as you will see, our new product has quite an effect, but most particularly it was designed for the fine females of this glorious city. The effects are almost immediate. Do observe.” He withdrew a syringe from a small case that he had pulled from his pocket. Forcing the girl around, he held her arm out, and slowly injected the needle's contents into her blood. After he removed the needle, he stood back, waiting for the drugs to take effect. The girl stood, motionless. She blinked. A second later, she began to breathe unnaturally loud. Even Rainbow Dash, who was some distance away, could hear it. “Allow me to explain.” Blueblood continued. “The drugs target the brain, but not the entire thing. Only the areas devoted to memory and thinking. Through this drug, a person becomes completely incapacitated and essentially no more than an animal. This leaves you, our fine customers, to use the girl however you will!!” At this, he put on a wry smile as he removed his outer coat, and handed it to a man who stood close by him. Reaching out to the girl, he touched her shoulder. She hardly reacted. She just looked at him with a blank stare. Her orange eyes gazed at nothing. The Prince turned the girl to look at him. She did nothing to resist. Her breathing had slowed. She looked almost normal. Blueblood reached over her shoulder and flicked the plastic clasp that held what was left of her clothing. The piece of clothing that had covered her chest hit the floor. The girl looked at it on the ground, not reacting to the fact that she was now bare-chested in front of a crowd of lustful men. Blueblood turned to the crowd and smiled. “First four pounds you will have on me, in honor of our achievements, but after that, we will have prices! You may take from the stores in the crates behind you!” He pointed to the piles of boxes that Rainbow Dash was hiding behind. “Damn it.” She opened her bag and pulled out a fistful of powder. Twilight had developed this as a resource of either distraction or escape. Jumping up, she leaped onto the crates in front of her, revealing herself to the crowd. “You'll do nothing with this trash, you vermin!” she yelled at the Prince. The drug dealers laughed and advanced toward her, unsheathing deadly looking knives, and a few had swords. Rainbow Dash jumped to the ground in front of the men and threw the powder in her hand at the ground. An explosion of air rushed at her face as the powder rushed outward, creating a large cloud of dust impossible to see through. Rainbow Dash heard the men stop blindly and shout to one another. She jumped and rolled out one side of the cloud, and was pleased to see that a number of the men had pushed into the smoke. Sneaking behind a pair, she stabbed one in the back with her hidden blade, and slashed open the back of the other. The fell in a lot of pain, screaming insults at her while trying to stop the blood. Ignoring the rest of the men, Rainbow Dash shoved aside one of the girls and charged up the room toward Blueblood. He laughed, and pulled something small and funny looking out of his shirt. He pointed it at Rainbow Dash. Instinctively, she knew whatever he had was bad. Assuming her life was on the line, she began weaving left and right as she made her way toward him. He narrowed his eyes, and then there was a loud bang. It was so unbelievably loud, Rainbow's ears rang with the sound. Her head vibrated. But almost immediately after the noise, something slammed into her shoulder, just below her collarbone. Pain rocketed through her. Her arm went numb. Blood seeped from the wound and fell in streams down her clothing, staining her armor and cloak. Shock went through her head. What technology was this? This thing that could fire a high-speed projectile that ripped through armor and tore through her body? A harsh, loud, familiar yell forced her mind back to the situation. Rainbow Dash was now lying on the ground, gripping her shoulder and clenching her teeth. Looking around, she saw a person wrapped in black clothing, with a light gray cloak similar to her own wrapped around her. The person was walking toward Blueblood with a look of murderous intent in their stride. As the person picked up speed, the cloak fell away, and yellow hair streaked behind the woman. She was tall, and her muscles rippled with fresh energy. Blueblood started panicking. He grabbed the girl he had drugged and pulled her in front of him. Applejack hesitated, then picked up a sprint, flexed her wrist, jumped onto a table, and used her momentum to push her body above Blueblood. When she landed behind him, he didn't have time to turn the girl as well as himself. He made it halfway around, before Applejack swept his legs from under him and punched him to the ground. The girl dropped to the floor and lay there, not moving, her red wings flat against the ground. Rainbow Dash struggled to stand. The men who had been distracted by the smoke were beginning to recover. She was a vulnerable girl now, unable to defend herself. Her sword arm was useless. She turned and watched as Applejack kicked away the tool he had used to injure Rainbow, and she jabbed her blade into his throat, and pulled it out just as quickly. Blood sprayed up and over his body, staining his clothes and leaving a red puddle on the ground. Dash managed to stand. She hobbled over to the girl. She was unconscious. Supposing that it was a side effect of the drugs, Rainbow flexed her wrist to reveal the only weapon she could use at the moment. Applejack sprinted down toward her. “Ya'll okay, sugarcube?” she asked. Rainbow started to nod, and then doubled over as fresh pain racked her shoulder and arm. “Roseluck!” Applejack yelled. Another girl, smaller, and younger, ran in from the door. “Help the girl, and Ah'll carry Dash. Think ya'll can hold her okay?” The young assassin tested the weight of the limp Aviator. “Yeah, I can carry her.” She lifted the girl up in both arms. Carrying her over to where Applejack had dropped her cloak, she set her down again, covered her body with the cape, and picked her up again. She had been shamed enough. Rainbow Dash looked around. The other attenders of the gathering had fled, the other girls were nowhere in sight. “Don't move too much, Rainbow, we gonna get you home. Fluttershy c'n help ya. You good, Rose?” “Yeah! Let's go!” “New kid,” she explained to Dash. Rainbow smiled, and then passed out.
