The Dawn Protocol

-Static

Greetings my little ponies. If you are watching this, then you know that a most unfortunate fate has befallen me.

-Silence.

In the event of my passing, know this. Long ago, when the land was still in chaos, and Ponykind was in the midst of turmoil and my sister rose up in her revolt, I enacted a protocol that could spell disaster. For our nation here and now.

-Stares straight into camera

I forged a weapon from the elements of Harmony. Something so powerful that it would eradicate all forms of life if ever Discord or Nightmare Moon took power. A weapon that actives as soon as I....pass. I...I am sorry my little ponies. It was a foolish decision, one that I regret to this day. For this weapon is too powerful and too deadly to be dismantled. And it's whereabouts are unknown since I banished it from my memory to keep it from falling into enemy hooves. Know this however.

-pause.

In the direst of situations, the dawning of the sun will herald the end of days. That my little ponies. Is the Dawn Protocol.

Twilight clicked off the small T.V. For a minute she sat in her chair, all around her godrays peeked through the closed curtains. "What the hell did she mean? The sun will herald the end of days?" She slammed her hoof down in frustration.

"And It's been 3 months since her death. What did she mean it would activate as soon as she passed?" She furrowed her eyebrows in concentration.

While it was true that the sun monarch was dead, a bullet in the eye does that.

She reached over and dialed a number.

"Yes Ms. Sparkle?" Asked a voice on the other line.

"Tell Rarity.....mission is a go." She said, she was trusting her gut with this one.

=======================================================

Somewhere within the ECI (Equestria Central Intelligence) base- Canterlot

"F..fuck." Kelvar backed up slowly clutching his torso, a deep puncture oozed blood as he tried desperately crawling back, and away from him.

"I knew it. Celestia as my witness I knew it." He coughed as the blood in his ruptured abdominal began pushing up his diaphragm, blood began oozing into his lungs, and eventually his throat.

"You crazy sun worshiping son of a bitch!" He coughed up blood as the stallion slowly moving towards him smirked slightly.

And the last thing he saw were a pair of scissors, slashing his throat open.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside the base, Snips made his way through the gathering crowds. Alarms founded as the security within the building finally found the dead bodies. "Took them long enough." He thought coldly, letting out a little snort of satisfaction. The first one. Oh what was his name? Body Armor! Right, he was the weaker of the two, getting the information out of him was a cinch. The second one though. Oho he was a tough cookie. Too bad he had to die with an open throat.

As he made his way through the now filling streets, he slipped into a back alley.

"Hail brother. Have you the information?" Asked a deep, gravely voice from the shadows. Snips smirked as he pulled out a small portfolio.

"Here is the information brother. Hail her gleaming majesty." He replied as he slipped the sensitive information into waiting hooves.

After he felt the documents lift off his hooves, he took a deep breath as he exited the alleyway. "Oh it always feels good doing double duty." He chuckled mirthlessly.

*Bzzt Bzzt*

He reached down into his bloody apron's pocket and pulled out his cellphone. "Well this is a surprise. Not many ponies know my number." He muttered warily. He always made a point to make as few friends as possible. That way, nopony could identify him as a suspect. His memory would always allude them. The same rule applied to the cellphone.

Clicking it, he put it up to his ear. "Yes, Snips speaking." He said in his most charming voice, a hint of caution in his voice. A slip-up.

"Well well. If it isn't the barber from hell. Up to no good I see?" His eyes widened a fraction. Not many ponies knew who he was, even less knew that nickname. Even fewer knew what he truly did.

"Ah. Rarity dear, it's always such a pleasure." He said, his voice as smooth as a snake's.

"Save it Snips. I know what you did. And if you try anything, I'll have the army and the local police on you. And they still haven't forgotten about the Follier Incident." She rebutted in her most severe tone.

Snips knew he was being black-mailed. "A cardinal virtue for all aspiring spies." He thought wryly quoting an  old friend.

"Alright then. You have my attention....Mrs. Rarity." He replied putting particular emphasis on her title."

He could almost feel her grimace. "Your country needs your help Snips." She said, her tone failing to hide both her exhaustion and her defeat. He smiled.

"What can I do?"

=============================================

Stalliongrad-Pулетка Bar

Pipsqueak leaned against the steetlamp for a moment, savoring the bitter cold of the freezing Stalliongrad air. Across the street, the bar was aflame as firefighters desperately tried combatting the flames to no effect. Smiling at his handiwork, he slipped into the shadow of an adjacent Alleyway as he made his way down, and away from the scene. "Mission Accomplished, scot-free jail pass. Here I come." He chuckled. A bitter breeze chilled him to the bone as soon as he stepped out from the relative protective embrace of the alleyeway and onto the street proper.

"Hated these outer lying cities anyway." He muttered pulling his fur jacket closer. It was time to head back to the palace of Queen Gilda the 5th and claim his reward.

But first.

Pipsqueak walked forward, calmly scanning the empty sidewalks with his peripheral vision for any unwanted shadows or tails. After walking a 1/4 of the block, and satisfied with the fact that there was nopony out and about at 3 in the morning, he made his way to seemingly ordinary news stand. Inside was a single mare, leafing through a newspaper with a cigar firmly held by her teeth.

"Is it done?" She asked, her voice hoarse due to years of cigarette abuse.

"Yup. I've got the Agent." He replied smirking. His primary objective hadn't been Vladislav, no he could have easily tracked him down anytime. It was the bar itself. The Lunar Movement had word that it was being used by the Sun Worshipping Bigots as a headquarters of sorts. Gathering incriminating information about.....the LM's black book.

His actual mission was to destroy the bar, and all the evidence gathered.

"Hmmph." Said the mare behind the counter.

"Good work boy. Your payment." She said, reaching below the counter and sliding across a bulging portfolio. Eyeing it questioningly, he opened it. To reveal it brimming with bits.

He whistled in appreciation. "Wow, Luna must've been worried about this dirty little secret." He joked.

"That's not all." She said and she once again reached behind the counter, pulling out one P.08 Luger along with 5 clips of ammo.

Pipsqueak's eyes went wide as he gingerly took the pistol in his hooves. "Where did you get this?" He asked smiling, he tested out the scope, took out the empty magazine and peered into the empty hole.

"A little something from the Princess herself. Says you earned it. I have to agree." The old mare smiled kindly as he played with the pistol, sliding the mags in and out, trying the firing mechanism (safety on of course) and aiming down the sites.

"Back to business." She suddenly said, whipping the little smile off. Pipsqueak stowed the pistol away as he looked her dead in the eye.

"We've just got word from some inside sources that the Mare is gearing up to go hunt down something called the Dawn Protocol."

Pispqueak raised an eyebrow. "So what does the Princess want me to do about it?" Pipsqueak was more of the wetwork agent. The talker, the distractor, and the good looking one.

"Word's gotten out that the Mare's putting together a group to hunt this thing down. The Princess wants you ta get yourself on that team." She said plaintively.

Pispqueak inhaled deeply and exasperatedly.  "That mare. Never misses a chance to work me to the bone ey?" He joked. This drew a smile from the mare.

Suddenly his phone began ringing. With a questioning glance, he picked it up and clicked it on.

"Pipsqueak speaking. How may I help you?" He asked.

"Been a while pip." Replied an all too familiar voice. Pipsqueak had to smile at the sheer cosmic irony of it all.

"Rarity! What a surprise! So, tell me, does the ECI need some wetwork? Something deniable to keep blood off their  pristine hooves?"

He asked sarcastically.

"Well actually yes. And we need you Pip." She replied. Pipsqueak barked a hard laugh.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm kind on the run Rare." He replied casually. He knew that name always infuriated the white mare.

"Amnesty, and a reward for your services." She replied. Pipsqueak hmm'd in amusement.

"Always know exactly where to hit em' ey?" He replied. "Alright then. What're we talking?"

"3 grand." She replied hastily. Pipsqueak sucked through his teeth.

"Ah, gonna have to do better than that. See, the big bad birds offered me the same thing. And they're paying a bit more." He replied bidding a silent goodbye to the street vendor and walking towards the grand palace.

"10 grand, amnesty, and anonymity." She replied. By now he had made his way to the steps, and her offer came right as he was about to step inside.

He smiled as he slowly turned and walked down the steps.

"You've got yourself a deal." He said with finality, closing his flip-phone.

==================================================================

South Ponynam Jungle-Location unknown

Dinky sighed as she sat on a rotten log. All around her was the utter destruction brought on by a fire fight. Homes were destroyed, the handiwork of explosives, dead bodies now covered in flies littered the premise.

She sat, sweating as she gazed into the sky, drinking in the peaceful silence the jungle offered. Off to her left, the remnants of the Apache were still ablaze, too far from any vegetation, but still too close for any real comfort. The rotor blades spun, now due more to inertia rather than any power.

Nopony but herself had survived the onslaught and resulting fight. But then again, that's why she was hired by the company commander in the first place.

"WHOOVES! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED OVER THERE?!?" She heard shouting over the radio. Sighing, she reached down and received the incoming transmission from her hoofheld radio.

"Oh nothing, just took a sunday morning stroll and said hi to the natives." She replied sarcastically.

"HOOVES YOU TOOK SOME OF MY BEST MEN! YOU JUMPED THE DAMN GUN AND NOW LOOK WHAT HAPPENED! I SWEAR TO CELESTIA I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD FOR THIS!"

Dinky stopped paying attention halfway through the tirade.

"Well, better head off I guess." She said to no one in particular as she picked a path and headed off. Better get away while there was still time.

As she walked through the jungle, the radio continued to play the angry captain's message.

"Ah dammit, how do you work this stupid thing?" Dinky cursed as she fiddled with the various knobs and such until finally she heard the blissful jungle silence once again.

"Dinky? Dinky do you read me? Dinky?" Dinky looked down at the infernal radio.

"Ah dammit, I thought I turned this thing off." Picking it up and pressing the receiver again, she pressed the receiver. "Yeah? Waddya want?" She didn't even make and attempt to mask her irritation. A firefight does that to ya.

"Dinky this is Rainbow Dash." Replied the voice on the other end.

Dinky stopped for a minute.

"Well well well, if it isn't General Dash! Glad ya could drop by and visit. Been awefully lonely without ya." She said sardonically. She heard a deep sigh on the other end.

"Look. Rarity asked me to find you. Something about stopping the Dawn Proto-thingy." She heard the plaintive plea in her ex-CO's voice.

"K. So what's yer offer?" She asked, chewing a leaf she had found on a plant.

"All 2 years of your pay?"

"No need for money." She shot back.

"Amnesty and lift of manehunt?"

"Nah, I'm nice and safe out here. 'Sides, I don't mix too well with others." She replied.

"Reinstatement and full perks?"

Dinky grinned.

"Now yer talkin' my language."

============================================================================

"DOWN WITH THE MACHINE! LET THE NIGHT RULE! DOWN WITH THE MACHINE! LET THE NIGHT RULE!" Scootaloo pushed her way through the surging crowd of demonstrators.

Currently she was traveling down Fetlock Ave, just a couple blocks away from the aforementioned building when the demonstrations had broken out. Now she was just one of many surging bodies just trying to move forward.

"Frikking hippies." She muttered, barely able to hear her own voice over the shouting of others. After the seemingly endless waves upon waves of angry ponies, she finally stumbled upon the sidewalk proper.

The Public Archives stood like a massive Pantheon. The marble column supporting the massive front of the ancient building.  But that's now what caught her eye. What caught her eye was the literal FUCK TON of guards stationed outside. Standard M16's drawn and idling as they warily eyed the crowd of protesters.

"Oh what the hell." She muttered as she stepped up and began walking the restricted steps.

"Hey you! Miss! Stop right there!" One of the armed policemen shouted running up from behind.

"Yeah that's right you stupid fuck, just a little closer." She muttered spitefully in her head. This day was just getting better and better.

As soon as he was in touching distance, she bucked her back legs, catching him across the face. He reared up in shock, she spun 180 and punched him in the kidney, lung, and Larynx in quick succession, crushing the throat and condemning him to death by asphyxiation.

"He's dead! Open fire!" She heard shouting. Acting quickly, she drew her M1911 and shot the shouting guard. The pistol coughed quietly as she let out a quick three-round burst. One  bullet hit him in the lower jaw while the other two sailed through his head, emerging as blood splatters on the other side.

As soon as he went down, three more took his place, crouching as they returned fire in accurate 3-round bursts. Reacting quickly, Scootaloo dove for cover as the world erupted.

The demonstrators flew into a rage at the sudden violence. They surged forward, turning a firefight into a killing floor. The guards panicked and began firing into the crowd.

Scootaloo smiled. "Perfect" She thought as she ducked low and ran into the crowd, using the pandemonium as cover.

As soon as he made her way through security, she slipped through the building and hid behind a nearby pillar, just out of sight.

"C'mon! Get a move on you lot!" She heard orders being given as the remainder of the guards rushed out to assist their brothers. As soon as she heard the hoofsteps recede, she moved into the open.

The whole building was deserted as she made her way through. Evidently the usual employees had been removed from the building as the threat of rioting had escalated. So that hopefully left Scootaloo and her target. The hit notice had been very vague, so she had done some researching of her own. Finding out that Sigmund was actually a local who frequented the library. Or that was what it said on the outside.

Scootaloo, having been part of CLASSIFIED had access to things that most ponies, from mere citizens to high ranking politicians didn't. Including files that were better left unseen.

Sigmund Miles was actually the son of the Griffon Ambassador staying in New Mane city to quote un quote "explore the Equestrian way". So somebody high-up wanted him dead. And she was willing that the same pony would dole out the big bucks.

She passed down hallway after hallway searching for one in particular. She had information on the guy ranging from birth certificates to who he dated. And from the vast spades of knowledge she was able to dig up, she found he was more a history kinda guy. So he was going to be where most history geeks went. The Historical Documentation section.

After walking for about 25 minutes and through a maze of staircases. She found herself at the right address, courtesy of the fact that 'Historical Documentation' was written in all capitals.

"Alright, let's get this done." She muttered, kicking the door in and disturbing one very large griffon.

"What the devil do you think you're doing?!?" He shouted, instantly the 4 guards accompanying him clicked off their safeties and zeroed in on her.

"Oh nothing." She grinned taking out a homemade flashbang. "Just passing through." She said throwing it down. Instantly a loud BANG! Followed by a shrill afternoise disrupted the assembled party, all except Scootaloo who had brought along ear-plugs.

"WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?!?" Asked one covering his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the searing white after image.

Scootaloo didn't even give him the courtesy of the answer as she snapped his neck. Taking out her M1911, she fired 3 carefully aimed shots, each one hitting the remaining three guards in the heads.

The main target however, the griffon, lay groaning on the ground. Scootaloo clucked her tongue as she stood over him.

"And I thought griffons were supposed to be tougher." She said, she held the pistol directly over his head, and was about to fire when the doors on the opposite side of the room burst open, instantly the room was flooded with heavily armed SWAT ponies, all point assault rifles and shotguns at her.

"Oh what the fuck." She said plainly.

"Drop your weapon!" One shouted. she rolled her eyes and obliged.

"What else you want? Want me to drop my panties?" She asked sardonically. Instead of an answer, the swelling sea of guards parted to show the Commander In Chief of Equestria.

"Hello Scootaloo." Said Twilight Sparkle, her eyes hard and steady.

Scootaloo inhaled slowly and deeply.

"Well fuck me running. This day just keeps getting better." She sighed joking sarcastically.

Twilight simply lowered her eyes in a half-lidded stare.

"Sedate her." She said plainly.

Instantly Scootaloo felt the butt of a gun connect with her head. Searing pain followed by darkness was the last things she saw.

Meanwhile, Twilight had lit a cigarette and was currently smoking as she turned away and walked out.

"This had better work Rarity." She said to no one in particular.

(A/N: Ahaha. No one even bothers reading this.)