Author's Note

Just a warning, this chapter will earn those 'gore' and 'sex' tags.

Party On The Dancefloor

The caribou armoured in iron gurgled weakly as Straken withdrew her sword from his throat, the bull trying to hold his hands to his neck in an attempt to stop the blood flow. It was in vain, with a final gurgle the caribou fell down face first to the floor before Straken’s boots as Maple stared in horror. The noise of the armoured body dropping was masked by the grunts and lively conversation from behind the heavy wooden door, Maple having informed Straken that it sealed off the hallway they were in from the castle dining room. What had interested Straken was that the mare had stated that right now breakfast would be in full swung, most of the caribou leaders occupying the castle would be satisfying more than one hunger right now.

As the lone guard’s blood on the blade sizzled in the blue field Straken tested the door, finding the barrier unlock and ready to be entered. The human glanced back, the pony mare standing behind her nervously as she gripped the baton in trembling hands.

Tabitha rolled her eyes, she had told the pony to stay up in the library but the creature had insisted so now the unicorn would have to deal with the consequences of following her. Straken took a second to strengthen her mind, Maple having described some of the depraved things that were waiting in the busy room. Tabitha renewed the cold shield of professionalism that she had been keeping up during the situation, her mind focusing on her own set objectives and not the suffering that she was about to witness. Using the hand holding her pistol, Straken opened the door and stared impassively at sight while Maple looked over the human’s shoulder and winced.

A single long rectangular table with one of the long ends facing her was occupied by at least fifty caribou all wearing white robes with golden trimming looking much like the Roman senators of old Terra. All were male, and all munched on numerous bowls of fruit, grain, plates of toast, bowls filled with boiled eggs as well as a wide assortment of pastries and pancakes. It was quite the decadent feast, the caribou all laughing with some even seeming to grind their hips underneath the table.

Straken didn’t think that the food could be that good, a closer look underneath the table however revealed the sickening truth to the hardened officer.

Underneath the table, wearing collars chained to the bottom of the dining table were two lines of ponies, one mare for each caribou. Straken’s sneer didn’t drop, however inside she was disgusted as she saw that the chained beings were forced to service a dining male, from what little she could see both with the front and back ends depending on the preference of the associated caribou. Maple was still behind her, the mare letting out a small sob as she gazed at her captured fellows.

A caribou with a particularly large set of antlers, a more ornate robe and a satisfied grin on his face looked over at the sound. His eyes widened in confusion as he stared at the strange creature holding a sword and pointing some strange object at him. The blue pegasus mare under the table fellating him didn’t notice any change in her owner’s attitude. Her wings were small, the feathers clipped to ensure that she couldn’t fly and her ears had been pierced with large gold rings to showcase her master’s wealth.

The caribou who owned the pegasus, a General in the caribou military, tried to figure out just what he was looking at. The creature matching his stare was clothed and he thought that it was female, its furless face possessing feminine features but no muzzle like almost all creatures in the world. Its clothing hid any gender indicators but as he examined the clothes the General came to a startling conclusion.

The clothing was some sort of military uniform, and the creature was armed…

Before he had time to bellow a warning about the threat a searing bolt of plasma took off his head, the remains of his skull and brains splattering his fellow diners with bone-shards that acted like shrapnel. Panic immediately broke out in the room, caught by surprise as bright blue energy bolts scythed down caribou after caribou the assorted creatures tried to run for the main doors.

Some stumbled over each other as they tried to escape, antlers impacting faces and shoving causing heads to crack against the walls. Even more slipped in the blood that was quickly covering the majority of the floor, their already-dead comrades proving to be a great obstacle. A few of the stupider ones tried to remove their slaves from the table, fumbling with keys as Straken continued to fire indiscriminately into the steadily thinning crowd with an emotionless look.

A large number of her opponents already dead, the Colonel started to advance towards the remaining twenty three slavers who were spread out over the room. Her black jackboots soon became coated in a thick layer of gore as she strolled past fallen bodies while her finger remained depressed on the trigger of her gun. A few Caribou had managed to reach the doors, the two white barriers quickly strained red as Straken turned her attention to them. Their bodies slumped against the still-closed doors, blocking access and turning the area into a death trap.

A huge Caribou with a torn robe turned towards Straken, cuts across his chest bleeding as he eyed her with burning anger. The bottom of his robe was torn off, revealing his groin and rapidly fading erection.

Straken’s smirk increased a little at this, despite his large body size his pecker was rather small compared to some she had seen herself. Maybe all of these caribou had similar problems, explaining their need for slavery. The bull must have correctly interpreted her smirk as a mocking gesture, his brows furrowing as he charged towards her with a roar.

Straken had time to fire off a final shot at the charging creature, her aim was off however and instead of his head the plasma ate into his left shoulder, the bull bellowing in rage and agony as he closed within striking distance.

Straken still had her trusty sword however, her compulsory melee combat classes paying off as she thrust with the blade towards the caribou. The bull raised his arms out to grab her as the sword sank into the bull’s chest, the beast’s roars cutting off abruptly as he tackled Straken to the marble floor. The Colonel cracked the bull in the side of his head with her pistol’s butt, only then realising that the creature had already stopped breathing.

Grunting with effort Straken pushed the dead slaver off of her as she rolled over, ending up on top of his corpse. Standing up and withdrawing her buzzing sword as the flesh around the wound sizzled, the Colonel looked down at her blood-drenched uniform. She had much sympathy for however was going to have to clean it if she returned to UIP space.

Quickly scanning the room with her pistol, Straken found that the bull she had killed was the last one that had been left alive. No-one had made it out of the room, bodies strewn around the area in all manner of wear. The sound of a dragging body proved her initial assumption wrong, there was still something alive.

Walking around the other side of the bloody table, Straken laid eyes upon an elderly caribou with a large smouldering hole in his stomach where a plasma bolt had ravaged his insides. He was attempting to keep his dying organs inside the hole with a gory hand while he used the other to try to crawl to the main doors thirty metres away. He was halted when Tabitha placed a boot upon his chest, the human pressing down to pin him to the floor facing up at her. Straken lowered the tip of her sword to the bull’s neck, the creature staring up at her defiantly.

“Cunt!” he spat, a glob of spit landing on the boot holding him down.

“How elegant of you,” Straken dryly remarked as she pressed down with her boot, the bull groaning weakly as a few ribs fractured. “Since you seem to know so much, why don’t you share some other nuggets of wisdom with me? You can start with the location of any prisoners you are holding.” The bull coughed up a glob of blood, wheezing laughter echoing in the room at the human’s request.

“You think you, a female, can order around a high priest such as myself?” the bull ignored the sword point entering a centimetre into his neck. “I’m not long for this world; nothing you will do can make me talk. When my brothers catch you I’ll watch from the afterlife and laugh as you beg for them to continue mounting you like the slut you are.”

“Your petty insults won’t work on me, slaver,” Straken replied coldly, the bull maintaining his gaze as life slowly left his body. He was fully ingrained that his actions had been pure and just, certain that a prestigious spot in heaven awaited him filled with an endless menu of females. Tabitha recognised the glint of a fanatic in his large brown eyes, having encountered equally dogmatic priests back home. She would not be getting any information out of this one, something that didn’t really bother her.

“Suit yourself,” Straken replied as she removed her sword from the bull’s throat.

The priest was confused at first, the alien still keeping her strangely shaped hind hoof on his chest. Then he realised just what she was doing, the caribou figuring out just what kind of creature was holding him down.

She wasn’t going to kill him, she was going to watch him die a slow death.

The High Priest attempted to struggle, hoping that the movement would provoke the female to end his life quickly. He found the strength sapped from his limbs however, noticing that most of his blood had already left his body. He flailed helplessly as pain racked his body, all while the cold creature stared at him.

Tabitha continued to watch as the caribou’s organs started to shut down, the slaver’s eyes fluttering closed before his muscles relaxed and his head fell limp. Straken sliced his throat to make sure that he wasn’t faking death, removing her foot from his chest when no movement was made. A chorus of whimpers and sobs from under the large table caused Straken to turn her head and crouch down in blood to peer under the table.

Fifty pairs of wide, terrified eyes stared back at her as the chained mares waited for whatever they expected her to do. Straken examined the table more closely, finding that the chains were attached to rings screwed into the side of the furniture. There was fifty on each long side, every second one holding chains that clinked as the mares attached to them moved. Straken debated what to do, if she released them she would have to deal with fifty sex slaves of an alien race. On the other hand if she left them then more caribou would likely come back and continue the abuse.

Raising her sword, Straken saw only one course of action open to her.

With a crack the blade sliced through the metal links of a few chains, releasing some of the creatures held under the table. Tabitha’s boots squelched on the bloody floor as she walked around the entire table destroying all of the chains. Soon all were destroyed, Straken stepping away from the table as she observed the mares underneath handle the broken chains attached to their collars with surprise.

It took a while, but soon the ponies began to scramble out from under the table, blood staining coats of all different colours as the captives tried to avoid the dead bodies of their former masters while assembling at the opposite wall to Straken. They all trembled and shook in fear as they stared at the creature that had decimated the room full of caribou, Straken not talking as she examined the beings.

The ponies known as unicorns either had no horn or a black band around the base of the bony protrusion, other ponies having small wings or black plastic cases that Straken assumed contained and respected flight. The rest possessed no extra features, looking just like a normal pony alien. All of them were coated in a mix of blood and semen, the sight of the mares sparking a question.

Where was Maple Fields?

Straken had her question answered with a glance to the door from which she had entered from, the yellow unicorn on her knees with a blank stare. The baton was limp in her right hand, the mare gazing out at the devastation that Straken had reeked in the blood-splattered room. Sighing, the Colonel walked over to Maple as the other mares watched on with apprehension at what the killer would do to the unicorn.

Upon reaching Maple Straken hesitantly powered down her sword, the energy field having vaporised any blood leaving the blade spotless. The human sheathed the weapon, taking a moment to change the nearly depleted power cell for her plasma pistol before reaching out a gloved hand and grasping Maple on the shoulder.

The mare snapped out of her trance, gazing up at Straken for a few moments in confusion before shifting her gaze to the baton held in her hand.

“I guess you didn’t need me after all,” Maple mumbled, Straken staring down at the civilian as the mare tried to come to terms with the situation.

“It is my job after all,” Straken answered prompting Maple to look back up, “I’m going to request that you get up, we must plan our defence.”

As if cued, a loud bang sounded from the main doors followed by all of the mares huddled against the wall to scream. Straken quickly took hold of Maple’s left hand, surprising the mare with the contact. Straken pulled, Maple rising to her hooves with the human’s aid as she still clutched the baton tight. Another bang and the doors bulged, the sounds of shouting male voices coming from the other side.
Evidently her little rumble with the local Caribou leaders had not gone un-noticed.

“You ponies!” Straken yelled as the bangs increased in tempo and intensity. “Get that table in front of those doors now!” the mares hesitated, unsure whether to follow the creature’s order. “Do you want to be locked back up you morons!?” Straken shouted, the pony’s reluctance to do anything except whimper really was getting on her nerves. A body moved past her, Maple throwing a look back as she moved to grab an end of the table.

Watching the unicorn strain to move the table moved the other mares to action, the ponies deciding that the angry looking creature covered in blood shouting at them was more of an immediate danger than the caribou on the other side of the door. All of them grasped the table and heaved, the heavy furniture’s legs lubricated by the blood covering the floor as bodies were pushed aside to make way.

The mares closed their eyes as they moved through the corpses, the table finally making it to the doors to block the heavy barriers.
The banging from the other side no longer shook the doors, the large table making an effective barrier. The ponies glanced toward s Straken, all of them bowing their heads as her gaze lingered over them. Passing it off as a remaining effect of their servitude, Straken coughed into a hand to gain their attention.

“Which one of you can inform me where the castle dungeons are?” The mares all looked at each other; one cream-white pegasus with her wings bound in plastic sheaths raised a hand hesitantly.

“I- I used to be a ma-maid,” she stammered in a young voice, “the stairway on the left through that door is one that leads down to the dungeons.” The young mare pointed at the doorway that Straken had come through, the human turning to look. Straken re-faced the group of mares, the thumps against the main doors making no headway.

“Maple Fields,” Straken announced, the butter-yellow unicorn nodding her head warily. “You are now in charge of these mares, all of you grab as many weapons as you can,” Straken gestured to the numerous whips and batons lying around the room abandoned in the confusion of the human’s entrance, “and defend this room from the enemy.” Maple glanced at the doors.

“We don’t know how to fight though,” an older, pink-coated ‘normal’ pony informed, the rest of the equines nodding in agreement. Straken picked up a baton and handed it to the mare, the pony staring at it apprehensively.

“It’s quite simple,” Straken replied as she started to walk back towards the dungeon stairwell. “You take your weapon and hit them with it until they stop breathing. Aim for the head.”

With those final words of wisdom Straken left the room for her next destination, Pistol charged and held out in front of her. The mares in the room shared another look before slowly taking up weapons, wincing as they pried some from the dead hands of their former tormenters.

Scrolls and books flew into the air and scattered around the air as a blue flash lit up the library, a short form appearing just before the body of the dead Rudolf.

As the long-range teleport finished Orthodox, Special Agent of the ISA, examined his surroundings as he lazily swept his plasma rifle from side to side. Finding no threats, the black-armoured lizard turned his attention to the dead body a metre away. The creature, appearing to be a cross between a reindeer and a human was sprawled out in the ground, most of its face missing. Orthodox walked over and touched the wound with his armoured hand, not needing to bend down due to his small height.

“Looks like Straken has already gotten the party started,” Orthodox muttered to himself, having heard the message from the Colonel he was supposed to save. He snorted as he looked at an open door behind the body, stepping over the corpse in his metal boots as he shook his head. “I didn’t sign up to play Fucking Knights and Damsels,” he murmured as he walked into a deserted hallway with his rifle held at the ready. In truth he had been in the custody of the ISA for as long as he could remember, no one even knew what species he was supposed to be. If he was honest with himself he doubted he could hold down another job, only the ISA seemed to tolerate his quirks and vices in return for his skills and ‘workplace enthusiasm’.

“Well, I’m here now,” Orthodox often found himself holding conversations with his own company, “I might as well try to enjoy this.”

Water dripped from the roof as Straken left the final step at the bottom of the grey-stone spiral staircase to enter the castle dungeons.

Her gun held in both hand pointing out the soldier checked the area, finding herself in a small office with a roaring fireplace. Swords, spears and crossbows were lined in racks against the wall, the weapons gleaming with no sign of use. A small barred window was at the top of a grey metal door, Straken peering out through it with ease thanks to her height.

What she saw was again a disturbing sight. Ten mares, all bearing red welts across their rumps were chained up in a single large cell, their hands and hooves bound tight with rope while they hung from the roof and spun. Each one was fitted with a ball-gag and nine were wearing golden helmets with blue plumes, each pony’s coat a pure white. There were six de-horned unicorns and three winged ones, the tenth member however was the most interesting to Straken.

This pony’s coat was a dark grey, the mare sporting no helmet but a short, dark-blue mane and tail. The feature that stood out most were her wings, the unbound limbs like those of a bat except metal rings were dotted around the wings, Straken doubtful that the wings would even work. This pony had golden eyes that were slitted like a cat’s, eyes that proved to have very good vision as Straken noticed that they widened as the pony swung around to face her. The pony must be able to see her staring at it from the office window.

Noticing the tears in the creature’s eyes, Straken could hear a faint chorus of buzzing, what it was she couldn’t work out until one of the mares swung around so that her rear was facing Straken. The Colonel could see that the guard’s tail had been tied up out of the way with black strips, revealing everything to the human observer.

Two black devices buzzed in the mare’s rear orifices, Straken recognizing the devices as some kind of vibrator. The mare’s rump wiggled as a line of fluid leaked out from her marehood, Straken wincing as she figured out the punishment the prisoners were going through. Constant pleasure until they submitted to whatever the Caribou asked of them, at first not seeming to be that bad but even Straken shuddered at the thought of days of non-stop stimulation.

In a cell next to the one housing the mares there were five stallions, three guards judging from the helmets and two normal unicorns. One normal unicorn was a white-coated, blue-maned stallion whereas the other possessed the same white coat but golden-blond hair instead. All five were chained up to large upright metal X’s as they faced the swinging mares. All five were gagged with the same ball gags as the females and all had their eyes held open with clamps, forcing them to stare constantly at the spectacle in front of them.

The last things Straken noticed were the three caribou guarding the prisoners, one garbled in a black robe where the other two wore iron breastplates and black skirts. The two armoured bulls were armed with whips, Straken making them her first targets while the robed beast appeared to be unarmed. Straken was going to shoot him anyway.

The Colonel was waiting for the right time to strike, preferring to go in and cleanly kill all three guards without much fuss. The pony that Straken labelled as a ‘bat-pony’ rotated round again and locked eyes with her, the captured guard figuring out what was about to happen.

The three caribou rushed over to the cage as the bat-pony violently thrashed in her bonds, the sound of rattling chains giving Straken the cover she needed as whips cracked against the pony’s flesh.

Straken threw the door open and rushed into the room, swiftly putting two shots each into the armoured guards as the robed bull turned to glare at her with sickly yellow eyes. The pistol was aimed straight at the caribou’s head but Straken found herself unable to pull the trigger. The bull chuckled as the gun fell from Straken’s gloved hand, his eyes glowing red and green while purple smoke bellowed out from the sides as he advanced on the Colonel who dropped to her knees.

“Oh, a new creature, a female as well,” the bull cooed as he raised a hand, a black collar forming from the smoke that issued from his eyes. “A feisty one a well, my luck surely has turned.” Straken tried to break whatever hold the caribou had on her to no avail, the Colonel not even able to grab a cyanide pill from her belt. The bull stepped close, undoing the rope binding his robe to let the cloth fall to either side of his body.

Straken was presented with a close-view of the creature’s phallus, the human squirming as she found herself transfixed by the object. Her theory about the Caribou being a little on the small side received more evidence but still she discovered that she felt an overwhelming longing for the bull in front of her to use her as he wished. She shuddered, realising what was happening she mentally recited the oath to the UIP that all citizens swore by. As she was reminded of her people’s ideals and laws she found her will strengthening. The bull raising an approving eye as he stepped forward, his groin almost touching Tabitha’s face as the creature before him resisted the mental control.

“My, you’re just full of surprises,” he laughed once more. “I’ve yet to meet a female that can resist my power; you are going to be beyond fun. However,” the bull caressed Straken’s hair, the human shuddering as the ponies that were able to watched on in fear, “unlike most of my fellows, I prefer to not have to break in my toys. My time is precious after all.” The caribou knelt down, Straken’s view of his crotch replaced with a pair of sickly green eyes with red irises. “So Bitch, I’m just going to have to invade your mind a little but don’t fret pet, you’ll have all the time in the world to please your new master willingly once I’m done.”

Stagstar, the Caribou mage in charge of overseeing the prisoners’ punishment, smirked as he sent a spike of his magical essence into the kneeling female’s head. He infiltrated her mind, the caribou preparing to re-write her morals and to turn her into the perfect slave. He would have used this on the prisoners before him, but the high priests had already proclaimed that all ponies that resisted would have to be broken in with non-magical means to appease the gods. That order did not cover unknown creatures however.

As he probed the creature’s mind looking for an entrance he frowned, encountering some sort of wall that surrounded the female’s thoughts. It looked like the female had some kind on mental defences up to prevent access, Stagstar shrugging mentally as he just decided to batter it down. He thrust his mental might forward towards the wall, confident that his years of experience would crumble the female’s defences and make her his forever.

Straken grinned as the bull collapsed to the floor screaming in agony, the metal control lifting as he rolled around clutching his head in his hands. He had attempted to break into her mind, the stupid creature not knowing that all UIP officers had psionic defences implanted to prevent interrogation via psychic means. Rather than most defences however, mental blocks on UIP personnel instead attacked back when threatened. The bull right now was probably trying to fight off the jabs of pain that would be targeting his own mind.

Straken was immensely pissed off, for the first time in ages her face actually reflected her rage at her weakness to the beast. She picked her pistol up and once more aimed it at the bull’s head while she struggled to her feet. Glaring down at the caribou that moaned weakly at the aftermath of his attempted intrusion Straken’s finger gave the trigger a light squeeze, an energy bolt ending the mage’s pain as well as his life.

The human took a few deep breaths before walking towards the cage containing the mares, pausing to kick the dead caribou mage in the balls to relieve some of her anger. Instead of wasting time finding the keys, Straken blasted the lock of the cage with her gun. Molten metal cooled on the ground as the Colonel entered the cage, heading towards the rings on the wall that held the chains suspending the ponies.

She shot all ten of the chains, the mares falling to the ground as the chains zipped back up to the pullies on the stone roof. All ten freed, Tabitha ignored the buzzing of the devices stuck in them as she pulled her sword out once more, using the un-powered blade to cut through the simple ropes binding their hands. Leaving the creatures to remove their own gags and toys, Straken moved onto the next cage containing the males and destroyed the lock.

As the cage swung open Straken made sure that she was ready for any hostile actions, the males seemed to be prisoners but after observing the behaviour of the caribou she couldn’t be sure if it wasn’t just some kind of sick game for the stallions. Still, three of them seemed to be military and she would need all the co-operative locals she could muster. Tabitha cut through the leather straps binding them to the crosses, the males all landing on the floor. The soldier stepped back and kept her pistol trained on them as they stood up.

The first objects that the stallions went for were the plastic clips holding their eyes open, as soon as they were removed all closed their eyes in relief. Next came the gags, the red balls dropping to the ground before all five stretched their limbs. After a few moments they remembered just what had freed them, all five placing their hands up and showing their palms to Straken as they recalled how the object their saviour held operated.

“Please don’t shoot!” one of the guards begged, “We’re not like the other stallions! They haven’t gotten to us yet!” Straken’s aim didn’t wavier, the Colonel staring at the five as they slowly moved their hands downwards to cover themselves.

“Names and rank, now,” Straken barked, the three armoured guards standing a little straighter as they replied one after the other.

“Straight Arrow, Private!”

“Bronze Shield, Sergeant!”

“Heavy Hammer, Corporal!”

Straken nodded and turned to the other two, civilians she guessed.

“My name is Fancypants, I’m just a business owner,” the civilian with the blue mane answered. The blond-haired stallion was watching the mares in the next cage finish removing the devices that had been in them with a sickly look on his face. He faced Straken and trembled a bit, it seemed that his time spent in the prison had been the hardest.

“I am Blueblood, Prince Blueblood,” he shakily answered, his eyes rapidly darting everywhere as his hands shook and his teeth chattered. Straken lowered her gun, still keeping it at the ready however.

“You are a Prince?” she asked to make sure, the pony nodding in confirmation. Straken looked to the other four, all of them nodding to support their fellow. Straken moved on to her next question. “Why are you down here, I thought that all of your male population had turned on their own?” The ponies must have noticed the venom in the question, shuffling back a little as the mares, all having finished their grim tasks, watched the confrontation nervously from their own cell.

“it’s not their fault!” Fancypants defended. “The Caribou have some sort of way to influence minds, some of those stallions I’ve known for my whole life and they would never fall to such base desires so readily! You saw for yourself what their mages can do, we are locked up here as we managed to resist their efforts to influence us.” The Stallion bowed his head. “We are few however, the rest… ”

“Didn’t possess the mental strength,” Straken finished, the guard named Bronze Shield nodding.

“The Caribou also have collars that change the wearer’s mind,” he informed, “red ones make mares into sex-obsessed monsters although most caribou prefer to break mares themselves.”

“It’s true,” Straken turned around and pointed her gun at the mare who had spoken that was about to walk in the door. The pony raised her hands and halted, Straken tilting her head to the side as she stepped back. The mare obeyed the command and moved beside the stallions, Straken shooting a warning glare at the other females who decided to stay in their cell. Seeing that everyone got the point, Straken gestured for the female guard to continue.

“Burning Blaze, Lieutenant,” the mare stated before continuing. “It is true, I myself witnessed male guards I’ve served with for years rape close friends as soon as those Caribou mages started their magics. Afterwards the stallions are not themselves, their eyes are dull like no-pony is home and all they think about is fucking every mare they can reach. All the while Caribou priests say that they have ‘angered the gods by allowing females to rule them’ and that only by teaching mares their place can they receive redemption.” The mare ran her eyes over Straken, taking in the uniform and weapons.

“I saw you kill those Caribou,” the unicorn kept on going after the pause. “You’re obviously military of some kind and your weapon that fires the blue magic is something I’ve never seen before, can I ask your name and species? I’m a unic-“

“I already know about your race, pony,” Straken interrupted, now was not the time for friendly introductions. “I am Colonel Tabitha Straken of the United Imperium of Planets Army, Command and Control Corps. I am a human, an alien from space to you and from the sounds of things the highest ranking officer here. As such you are now under my command with the purpose of eliminating every single slaver from the face of this planet as per my orders.”

The guards, all the mares and stallions wisely decided to obey the experienced soldier with all of the guards saluting after a pause. The civilian named Fancypants looked towards the saluting ponies before following with a sloppy salute of his own. The last stallion, Blueblood, raised his hand in the air after recovering from his experience.

“I’m a Prince,” he provided meekly, Straken glaring at him which extracted a gulp from the Prince as he lowered his hand.

“I’ve already killed over fifty Caribou since I was abducted and teleported to your planet barely two hours ago. I have years of military experience and have fought in combat zones that make this seem like a child’s birthday party. I am in command here, do you understand?”

Prince Blueblood rapidly nodded his head, the human’s point across clear.

“Good,” Straken replied, turning to Lieutenant Blaze. “Lieutenant, you are now my second in command. There are fifty-one freed ponies upstairs in the dining hall fending off a Caribou attempt to breach the doors. I noticed primitive weapons in the office I entered from, I take it you and your troops are familiar with their use?”

“Primitive?” The guardstallion who had asked sounded slightly offended. Straken held up her plasma pistol, the tip of the bulky weapon scorched black from the recent use. The stallion quickly conceded that his new commander probably wasn’t used to fighting with spears and crossbows so he withheld any further complaints. Lieutenant Blaze nodded as she shot a warning look towards the stallion who had spoken.

“We are trained in their use, yes. I assume you wish for us to arm ourselves?” Straken nodded, two of the guardmares whispering to each other and glancing at a sealed, windowless iron door at the end of the dungeons as they moved out of the cage.

“You there!” Straken called, the two pony soldiers glancing at each other before hesitantly stepping towards the human who had moved out of the male cage to the corridor. Their apprehension intensified as they realised that the alien was almost two-heads taller than them. “What is behind that door?” The Lieutenant stepped in for her subordinates, Straken noticing that the mares still walked a little awkwardly and shied away from the stallions.

“That cell is isolation,” Blaze answered as Straken turned towards it. “Inside are seven changelings, creatures that can shape-shift into ponies and they tried to invade a month before the Caribou arrived. They feed off love but can live on solid food for a while; we captured this group posing as a family in the city a few days before the Caribou attack.

Princess Celestia didn’t want to kill them and they weren’t banished back to the Badlands like all the other changelings as they were observed trying to consume normal food as much as possible, when they did feed off ponies they kept it to a minimum. The Princess was holding them in prison to test their limits in the hopes that they could be proved to live side-by-side with ponies instead of against them; she hoped that one day changelings could be seen as friends and not enemies but the Caribou attack ended that idea.

Most of the Caribou don’t seem to find them attractive, mind control does not seem to work and these changelings refused to turn into ponies willingly even when threatened with starvation. As a result the Caribou just locked them up until they either gave in or starved, that was a few days ago before I was captured and put in here.”

Straken was impressed, the solider had explained a lot in a short amount of time while skipping over trivial details. Maybe these equines could be of use to the UIP after all. The description of these ‘changelings’ indicated that they were deceitful and untrustworthy, however Straken did need all the soldiers she could get and they couldn’t be as bad as some of the infamous ISA agents that she had heard of. The human walked to the door, the ponies staying where they were as Straken unlatched the bolt locking the door.

As she opened the door seven pairs of solid blue eyes gazed out at her from the floor, seven creatures huddled on the stone floor as they trembled. Straken examined them, their naked forms covered in what looked like black chitin with holes pockmarked on their arms and legs. All had two small fangs at the front of their mouths, short black muzzles, insect-like blue wings and small jagged horns with sharp points. There were four females and three males, their anatomy generally the same as the ponies prompting Straken to wonder if they were closer to mammals or insects.

The important thing was that they had hands and therefore could wield a weapon, which was all that mattered to Straken.

“You have three choices,” Straken informed them as they continued to tremble. “I can shoot you now and give you a quick death, you can stay here and starve or you can take the smart option and work for me. You pick up a weapon and I’ll free you while treating you the same as the ponies already under my command.” The creatures all paused, small looks between each other shared before one of them stood up. The creature was female and the same size as a pony mare, the changeling nervously looking out at the guards and the dead caribou before glancing back to her fellow prisoners.

“We aren’t warriors, but if we fight for you will you help us not get imprisoned again?” Straken gave the creature cold look, her reply coming out harsh and brutally honest.

“It is unlikely that we’ll live through this if my comrades do not arrive on this planet, we will likely die if we fight back. We will however certainly face fates worse than death if we do nothing and let the Caribou have their way, I for one would rather die in battle then live with a collar around my neck. Follow me and I assure you that I will do all in my power to protect you from the slavers threatening us all.”

The Colonel’s speech caused the creatures to assess their options; eventually one after another they stood up and faced their new leader. Straken reached out and poked one of the males in the chest, the changeling flinching as the gloved finger prodded his chitin. The human gave a satisfactory nod, the chitin appeared to be fairly durable and hopefully would serve as half-decent natural armour against Caribou weapons. The changelings’ ability to masquerade as ponies would also be a bonus, Straken already planning how to use the ability to set ambushes and spring traps.

She stepped aside, allowing the creatures to exit the small cell. They passed her and stopped, exchanging stares with the ponies with some of the guards shooting them suspicious looks. That would not do, Straken wanted her native troops to hate the enemy and not each other.

The Colonel pushed through the changelings to stand in-between the two races, everyone focusing on her as she tapped her pistol against her side.

“I want none of that,” she ordered. “Untrusting soldiers are useless soldiers. Whether you’re pony, changeling or human we are all hunted by these Caribou and don’t forget it. If you want to have your differences save it until we no longer have to fight, I won’t tolerate any infighting. Are we clear?” A chorus of agreements from all of the beings in the dungeon satisfied Straken that the problem wouldn’t rear its head again. “Good, now everyone head into the office and arm yourselves. Bring some extra weapons for those already upstairs and we’ll assemble in the dining room to plan our defence,”

Changelings and ponies rubbed shoulders as they carried out their orders, the office door opening and weapons passed around to the awaiting soldiers and civilians. As Straken moved through her makeshift force of naked locals dark-grey hands reached out and grasped her free left hand, Tabitha almost raising her gun before seeing that the bat-pony that held her hand was only shaking it and not attacking her.

“Thank you,” the mare said with genuine appreciation as she gazed up at Straken, “thank you so much. I don’t know what would have happened if… that had continued. After what they did to my wings-“

“Grab a weapon and protect your fellows,” Tabitha interrupted as she pulled her arm from the mare’s hands. “You can thank me when every single Caribou are lying dead in pools of their own blood.” With that Straken continued on towards the staircase, the Colonel already planning possible tactics and strategies as the bat-pony grabbed an offered spear from a changeling with a determined expression.

Maple Fields glanced worriedly towards the door that the human had gone through half-an-hour ago, the Caribou having increased their attempts to batter down the main doors. They seemed to have procured a battering ram of some sort, the doors once again bulging with each bang. There was only one other way into the room besides the main doors and the door to the library, a small servant’s corridor that lead to the kitchen. It had been blocked off with a barrier of chairs but it seemed as the Caribou didn’t know of it, no attempts had been made to enter the room through it.

The unicorn held her baton in one hand and her broken horn in the other, every time her fingers ran over the ridges of her lost horn her will to resist was improved. She hoped that somepony was able to re-attach the horn if she survived this, her previous job as a Luthier benefited greatly from the ability to finely tune string instruments with magic as well as hands. She also hated to admit it but losing her horn made her feel like less of a pony, even though the week of Tartarus she had gone through had more of a demoralising effect on her.

Five mares rushed to the doors and tried to hold the table against the door as it jumped, the two doors giving a little as a crack as the bellows and yells from the Caribou on the other side increased. A brown-furred arm was shoved through holding a baton which it waved erratically trying to hit a mare, the ponies all scrambling away from it. Maple glanced down at her own baton and then her horn, her fist clenching around the grip of the shock stick as she fixed the arm with a glare. Advancing on it she raised the baton and brought it down upon the arm, energy sparking as it zapped the arm with an electrical charge.

The owner bellowed in pain and the arm withdrew, no more limbs poking through the gap as the attempts to batter down the door increased in ferocity. Maple turned at the sound of hooves on stone, a group of ponies armed with spears, swords and crossbows walking into the room to stare at the bodies and blood still covering the room. Maple noticed that there were a few black creatures that she recognised as changelings with the ponies. Normally she would be terrified of them trying to drain her of love but with the combination of the Caribou attack and her experience with Tabitha the creatures were currently ranked very low on the threat level.

The human soon appeared, pushing through the ponies to approached the main doors. Maple noticed that Prince Blueblood and a bat-pony mare were following closely behind the human, Maple watching the royal stallion warily as she also noticed four other stallions with the new ponies. Seeing Tabitha beside him however lowered her fears of the Prince turning into a sex-crazed rapist, if the human trusted him then maple guessed she could as well. Besides, the Prince seemed to be following the human like a frightened child, nervously glancing at the main doors and drawing closer to the Colonel whenever the Caribou banged on the door.

“Maple Fields, I see the defence is breaking down,” Straken calmly observed as a particularly violent ram jolted the table again but the barrier held. Maple nodded as the new ponies and changelings, most of them guards, moved to help the defence and pass out weapons to un-armed ponies.

“It won’t be long,” Maple replied solemnly as a guardmare approached Straken and saluted.

“Colonel, I was thinking that we should arrange everypon- everyone around the door in a semicircle with spears at the front and the rest in the back. The caribou will probably overwhelm us with numbers, that is their usual tactic but if a mage is with them we won’t last long. One thought and we’ll all be on our backs getting fucked. Except for you Colonel,” the Lieutenant grimaced. “With whatever you used to resist that mage’s control you’ll make the ideal toy for some of the more brutal Caribou, the ones that enjoy taming a mare with whips and starvation.”

“That won’t happen,” Straken responded with a steady voice, “I’ll die before I submit to a filthy slaver.” Another bang on the doors as a few mares were thrown off the table highlighted the urgent danger. “I urge you all to do the same. Better to die and deny the Caribou their pleasure then live like a debauched slut.”

“What a very rousing speech there, Colonel Tabitha Straken of the Command and Control Corps.” Everyone in the room turned towards the slightly electronic male voice dripping with confidence, the origin the doorway connecting the hallway that led to the library.

Standing in the doorway was a creature in smooth black-armour, a helmet with a blue optical visor looking over the occupants of the room as the wearer tapped a large, dark-grey rifle seemingly much too large for him with his armoured hand. A thick tail also covered in armour flicked behind the figure, the prehensile limb’s armour lined with sharp metal blades on the top. Straken’s eyes focused on the new-comer’s chest icon indicating his department. Maple, Blaze, the bat-pony and Blueblood all stared at the Colonel seeking answers as the human muttered a single word with equal parts fear and venom.

“ISA.”

“Indeed Colonel,” the creature tittered as he started to walk towards Straken, assorted weapons covering his armoured form. “The ISA is here to save the day with valour and skill, just like always.” The male looked around at the dead Caribou before continuing. “Although I do have to admit that you seem to have been handling things fine, I’m just here to finish up.”

“Funny,” Straken replied without humour, “Usually the ISA only show up to make things worse so that they can parade around and take the glory.” The creature chuckled at this; he walked right up to Blaze and looked up and down her body. The ISA agent’s head came up to the mare’s chest, Blaze not moving but a light blush covered her face as the creature let out an approving hum.

“Huh, they’re like those anthro-animal things from those old Terra cartoons,” he muttered, noticing Straken’s questioning glare. “Oh,” he waved a hand, “a friend of mine in the Agency is a huge old pop-culture junkie, some of those things you humans used to think of are just funny as hell. Moving on,” the agent shifted his weapon to one hand as he extended the free hand towards Straken. “I’m Orthodox, Special Agent. In other words the poor sap who got stuck with this assignment.”

Straken ignored the offered hand. “You’re the only one they sent?” She asked, Orthodox shrugging as the banging against the doors continued.

“Well, I ignored most of the briefing but apparently the UIP is hesitant to send a battle fleet into an uncharted universe at the risk of possibly pissing an unmet empire off and starting another war alongside the ones we already have.” The helmet’s mouth piece lowered, revealing an orange mouth filled with sharp teeth locked in a grin. Orthodox removed a cigarette from his suit, stuck it in his mouth and lit it much to the confusion of the ponies and changelings watching. He blew out some smoke and sighed happily as Straken shook her head.

“Just great, what do they expect me to do with a single ISA agent for backup?”

“Hold out,” Orthodox replied. “Apparently a small force is being gathered specifically for this, estimated a day to prep and then a week to travel. Some crap about pinpointing co-ordinates or some other sciencey shit.” He glanced at the doors as they nearly buckled inwards, a mass of guards preparing for the caribou to rush in once the battered doors were down. “We should be fine; you’ve got me after all.”
With his plasma rifle in one hand Orthodox arrogantly swaggered past scared ponies and changelings with his destination being the main doors.

“Excuse me naked people,” he requested as the crowd parted for him, Orthodox sticking the barrel of his gun through the crack in the door while glancing back to make sure that everyone watching him. “I came here to kick ass and chew bubble-gum,” he spoke in a heavy voice.

“And I never had any bubble-gum to begin with.”

Orthodox got the felling that he had gotten the quote wrong. but he guessed it really didn't matter considering the guy he had heard it from seemed to be the only person in the universe who cared about the twentith Terran Centuary.

Pulling the trigger of his gun, blue flashes accompanied by screams and yells came from the other side of the doors, Caribou bellowing orders to retreat as the agent nonchalantly held the trigger down as he only slightly strafed the gun to cover the entire outside corridor with deadly plasma fire. After ten full seconds of sustained fire he stopped and pulled the gun back in, the tip smoking slightly as the scent of burnt flesh wafted into the room causing the ponies and changelings to gag. Weak cries of the dying were all that was left, Orthodox peeking out of the doorway to observe his work.

“Well,” he stated as he faced Straken again. “They shut the other set of doors on us, not too keen to get into here anymore from the looks of it.” Straken huffed in annoyance at the boasting as the ponies stared at the agent in awe. ISA agents were generally known for their god-like arrogance, desire to be the centre of attention and a love of terror tactics. He was the only UIP trained soldier she had at the moment however, as much as she hated it she’s have to try to get along with the unlikeable agent.

“They plan to siege us,” Blaze provided, “stuck in here we’ll run out of food or water and die.”

Straken considered the mare’s words, she was fast proving to be the most useful of the equines so far.

“Indeed,” the Colonel seconded, “do you know of any way we can possible escape this place to somewhere more suitable?”

“Excuse me, um, guards?” A light-orange earth pony approached while raising a hand and casting a fearful glance at Orthodox. “I visited a cousin in Ponyville last month, it’s a small town away from the major cities and I don’t think many caribou would look for us there.”

“She’s right,” Blaze thought out load as she rubbed her chin. “Ponyville is not well known, is largely a farming town so food and water should not be an issue and it’s close to the Everfree forest, if we get desperate we can always hold up in the old royal castle. It’s in disrepair but some fortifications are better than none. If I recall correctly the town also has an emergency armoury so that means more weapons not to mention we could also free the townsponies.”

“We are not to priorities saving people,” Straken lectured, “however it does sound like a good idea and I’m not getting any others. The problem is how are we going to get out of here?”

“The kitchens are still un-occupied?” Lieutenant Blaze asked, Maple Fields nodding as she gestured to the silent servant’s passageway. “Okay, there is a passage that leads to the sewers from there in case of an attack, not that we had time to use it. If we create a distraction of some kind we can exit out of a sewer pipe that juts out of the side of the mountain. There is a small, little-known bridge that leads to the other side. If we wait until nightfall then we should be able to make it to Ponyville by midnight.”

“We attack the Caribou holding the town,” Straken continued it on as she formed a plan. “With the advantage of surprise we slaughter them, free any captives and fortify. If all goes well and if the town is as isolated as you say the Caribou will be none the wiser, giving us time to prepare for re-enforcements. How do we create a distraction though?” Orthodox coughed, everyone looking towards him while he pointed a finger at himself.

“Ladies and Gents, if it is a distraction that you need then I will deliver.”

“How will you get past the Caribou?” Blaze inquired. “If you head out the sewer now you might alert them to the plan.”
Orthodox took a step back, all the ponies and changelings drawing back in surprise as the agent’s form shimmered then faded to nothing.

“Oh, trust me pony,” Orthodox’s voice replied from where he had once stood. “Distractions are my specialty. As soon as night falls commence with the plan, I’ll meet up with you outside.” Mares near the door leading to the kitchens scrambled back as the barricade was dismantled and the door opened by an invisible force. It shut soon after, the agent’s footfalls silent as he made his way to his objective. Straken holstered her pistol and rubbed her face with her hands as everyone shifted around the room awkwardly.

“Just my luck,” Tabitha mumbled. “The only thing worse than an egotistical, glory-hogging, stuck-up, arrogant ISA psychopath is an egotistical, glory-hogging, stuck-up, arrogant ISA psychopath who can turn invisible. Which god did I spite to deserve this?”

Orthodox hummed a merry tune inside his helmet as he strolled through the city with his armour’s cloak up. He had refrained from killing anyone yet, he had something much bigger in mind. Granted, most of the things he had witnessed almost made him lash out then and there at the slavers but he had to tell himself that while revealing himself immediately might not spell his doom, there were others depending on him for safety. He had never considered himself a caring person but he liked the cold Colonel, he found her utter hate of him amusing. It was almost nightfall and his distraction was due in a few minutes.

Walking down the cobbled road in the middle of the main city he encountered little of the population, only a few masters, some of them stallion, with their slaves passed him with none noticing the cloaked soldier amongst them. Orthodox had been imagining what roasted Caribou would taste like when cooked in a red-wine sauce before the sound of pumping electronic music caught his attention.

He turned the corner and halted to gaze at the large building that was the source of the music. It seemed to be a nightclub but was operating during the day, whatever sign had originally been above the door replaced with ‘The Batcave’ written in neon writing on a black background shaped like a bat. The building itself was black, Orthodox deciding that it could serve the purpose of a distraction while also providing him with an idea.

There were no bouncers as he uncloaked and walked through the door like he owned the joint, rifle slung over his shoulder casually.
Inside the music was pumping, a single large area dominated by a bar and dance floor taking up most of the space. Up on the stage a white unicorn with an electric-blue mane, black shades and a red collar was disk-jockeying while being pounded doggy-style by a caribou, the mare seeming to enjoy the attention as she bounced back and moaned in time to the bass.

All around the bar and dance floor more bat-ponies mares with black collars and neon rings in their wings served drinks to caribou males who randomly groped and spanked as they pleased.

The bat-ponies were all covered in neon writing, demeaning words such as ‘Slut’, ‘Bitch’, ‘Whore’, and ‘Cumslave’. Also present in neon colours where the words ‘Grope Me!’ with arrows pointing towards their groins and boobs, nipples circled with more neon colours. All of them seemed to not want to be there, unlike the unicorn on the stage.

Most bowed their heads as they served and received gropings, any resistance long since eroded. Orthodox noticed that a few still were attached by chains to the walls and bar, judging from the way they glared at the Caribou and tried to fight the molestations he guessed they hadn’t given up fighting yet. Good, maybe they would prove useful to him.

Everyone was too engrossed in their own activities to notice him, a single bat-pony who he assumed served as a greeter crawled over to him with white strands of semen in her purple hair.

“Hello sir,” she greeted in a monotone voice while bowing before him, “Welcome to the Batcave, I am Cumbitch and as a welcome you are permitted five free minutes with me for all that you desire.” Orthodox noticed that the young mare kept her eyes to the floor, the agent feeling a twinge of pity for the creature as he holstered his rifle on his back and withdrew a gauss machine-pistol instead, making sure that the silencer was activated and the energy clip full.

“I desire you to fetch me the owner of this fine establishment if you could Miss,” Orthodox requested, the mare’s blank expression twitching for a second at the unusual request before she bowed again.

“As you wish Master,” was the reply, the mare crawling back off. Orthodox observed that her purple tail was cut short, leaving him a clear view of her vagina and ass as she departed. He soon looked away over the rest of the club, he wasn’t here for personal enjoyment and even if he was he wouldn’t ever partake in such slave-related dreck. He prided himself on his ability to bed a female with charm and charisma, not through mind-control and subjugation. He did have to admit though that most of his regular haunts when he was off-duty came pretty close to the seediness to this place and the music was pretty decent.

He was eyeing the large shelves of booze behind the bar tended by three mares when his greeter returned, a fresh hand mark on her face and a burly Caribou wearing nothing but a leather belt with a whip walking beside her. The bull did a double take when he spotted the creature that one of his slaves had told him requested his presence, the menacing black armour and helmet quite out of place on such a short creature. The bull halted two metres away and crossed his arms, taking a guess as to what the patron wanted.

“No, you cannot have more than five free minutes with Cumbitch,” he recited for what felt like the one-hundredth time. “She is for the enjoyment of every paying customer, so there is your answer.”

“Actually I was after something different,” Orthodox replied to the owner as he prepared his gun, the bull staring at it with curiosity. “I wanted to let you know that I detest your way of life and that enslaving females is just cheating, your small penis is no excuse there you chump.” The bull snorted in anger and glanced down at his exposed cock before glaring down at Orthodox as the caribou towered over the agent.

“What are you going to do about it, Shorty?” the caribou responded with a rage-filled tone, some more caribou and mares glancing over at the confrontation. Inside his helmet Orthodox’s face turned a bright, angry red and his hands gripped the machine pistol tighter.

“The Fuck did you call me?” He questioned as he stood still and felt his blood boil. The bull grinned and leaned down to emphasise his superior height.

“I called you Shorty, Short-“

The bull’s taunts turned into a gurgling cry as Orthodox placed two super-sonic gauss rounds into his knees, the light cough of the weapon not loud enough to alert the outside forces but it still drew attention from the club occupants.

Well, the fact that the owner of the club was lying on the ground in a growing pool of blood screaming with his legs severed at the knees probably was a factor in the attention as well.

"Shorty!? Who's short huh!? Who's fucking short now!?" Orthodox raged as he booted the club-owner in side.
Caribou yelled in surprise and un-broken mares squealed in fright, Orthodox pointing his gun to the roof and pulling the trigger.

Most UIP weapons worked by using an energy clip that was interchangeable with almost every infantry-portable weapon to synthesise ammunition in the weapon itself using a very efficient method ‘acquired’ from an advanced, peaceful race that had not discovered spaceflight but had advanced greatly in almost every other field of science. Said race had not expected an attack from a space empire that used the technology to create weapons with inbuilt ammo factories, the surviving members surrendering and being assimilated into the Empire which only furthered the UIP’s understanding of the technology.

Orthodox cared nothing for such details in regards to the origin of the tech powering his weapon however, all he cared about was that it fired lots of slugs at eight-times the speed of sound towards his enemies or in this case the roof at an astounding rate-of-fire.
Plaster rained down around him and the door-greeter as the yelling continued and the music stopped with a comical record scratch, the unicorn forgotten by the caribou in the chaos.

“Everybody down on the Fucking ground!” Orthodox ordered when he ceased destroying the roof. “Move and you die!”

All the mares obeyed immediately, the ones unable to due to their chains crouched down next walls instead. Most of the Caribou dropped to the floor as well, however five tried to make a run for the backdoor near the stage.

A one-second burst from Orthodox’s gun sent twenty armour-piercing slugs into them, the bullets shredding flesh and organs as they easily passed through bodies and the door itself. The five Caribou died immediately, collapsing to the floor in a heap as the desperate yelling and sobs increased.

“Shut the Fuck up, everyone shut the Fuck up or you’ll end up like them!” this worked, a relative silence filling the club as everyone huddled on the ground. Orthodox looked to the unicorn at the DJ station.

“You, DJ, you got any classical?” The mare nodded with a grin on her face. “Put it on,” Orthodox ordered, the unicorn preparing to put new records on at the commands. Orthodox walked over to a naked caribou with his hands over his head as he stared at the floor shaking. “What the Hell is wrong with her?” Orthodox asked with a boot to the Caribou’s ribs, the creature wincing and grunting in pain before answering.

“She’s a red collar, red collar slaves do anything you ask. The collars are magical; I don’t know how they’re made!” Orthodox snorted as the Caribou rushed out a reply, of course the explanation is ‘magic’. The only magic he knew of was used by Necroteks and those guys were a completely other level of disturbing. Dressing up in cloaks like fucking vampires…

He was broken from the memories of possibly the only other department with a worse reputation than the ISA by the soothing sound of a cello solo, classical music truly the superior Nightclub-robbing background music. Deciding on his next course of action, Orthodox pointed to the left of the dance floor against the left wall.

“All males line up on the left of the dance floor facing the wall with your hands on your heads, move!”

Caribou scrambled to obey the order, he counted thirty-three lining up against the wall facing away. Orthodox laughed darkly at their pathetic haste and worry, seems like they weren’t so tough when they were facing a male who wasn’t a lady they could mind-fuck.

“Mares, I want you all to stand up and unchain the ones attached to the wall and bar. Then I want you to grab any bags lying around.” The bat-ponies and unicorn obeyed, even the defiant mares when freed still carried out the order as the creature was still holding a weapon. An assortment of bags and cloth-sacks were soon collected, each mares holding one. There were fifteen bat-ponies and the one unicorn, the white-coated DJ still grinning as she held a leather bag.

“Good work girls,” Orthodox praised. “Now half of you grab all of the top-shelf booze and put them into the bags, the other half open the tills and grab every valuable you can find.” As the mares grabbed bottles and emptied golden coins and jewels into the bags they held the owner, missing his legs but still alive coughed weakly.

“Did you do all of this just to rob me?” he questioned absolutely confused at what was happening. Orthodox walked over to him, aimed his gun at the club owner’s head and pulled the trigger.

The bull’s head was annihilated under the torrent of close-range fire, blood flying up to coat Orthodox’s armour and the ceiling while the mares hesitated in their task. Orthodox let go of the trigger, the owner’s head unrecognisable.

“Did I Fucking say you could talk Dickhead!?” Orthodox yelled as he stomped a boot down rapidly on the caribou’s groin, the power armour pulverising the bull’s crotch into mush. A glance from Orthodox towards the mares restarted the looting efforts, Orthodox walking back over to guard the remaining Caribou while he waited.

A few minutes and the mares were done, no-one outside having noticed that anything was amiss apart from the fact that the club was playing an orchestral piece. The females lined up before him, Orthodox gesturing to the back door as he tried to figure out how he would get them out as well. The mare who greeted him at the door still avoided his eyes as if he would hit her for looking at him, Orthodox making a personal oath to find a way for all of them to escape with him. Maybe he could blow up part of the city wall.

Back to the task at hand, he turned as led the mares to the backdoor, poking his head out and finding that it led to a deserted alleyway.
“Wait out there, run and more Caribou will get you.” This was followed without question, leaving him in the nightclub with the remaining Caribou.

“Now Gents, about this whole ‘Sexual Slavery’ thing…”

Orthodox emptied his weapon’s energy clip as he strafed the lined-up hostages without mercy, hundreds of bullets tearing them apart as gore sprayed the wall and roof. He made two passes before his gun ran dry, not a single Caribou left alive in the club.

“I would normally have left one of you alive to tell the rest of your disgusting kin about my sheer awesomeness but I’m sure this will get my message across clearly.” As he talked to the corpses of his victims Orthodox withdrew a compact explosive charge with a secondary incendiary payload from a compartment in his suit, walked over to the bar and set ip upon the top of the counter. After entering in a code he pressed a button and the charge beeped, signalling that it was primed. An icon popped up on his helmet’s heads up display, the charge a simple mental command away from detonation.

Strolling past still-warm bodies Orthodox replaced the energy clip of his gun with a fresh one, placing the spent one in his suit for recharging from the suit’s power supply. He stepped out into the night air, all sixteen mares still waiting for him in various levels of awareness. Appraising the herd of freed equines, Orthodox pulled his second machine pistol out with his other hand, gesturing to the entrance of the alleyway one-hundred metres in front of them.

“Ladies,” he addressed, the females all looking towards him, the ones who had been resisting the Caribou not speaking in fear of setting the violent creature off. They were still trying to figure out if he was helping them or just using them for his own gain. Orthodox walked to the head if the line, glancing back and waving a gun in the air.

“Who’s ready for a fun night out on the town?”