Infiltration

Thursday, July 9, 905 CE. 6:55 AM.

The mouse's incessant clicking becoming somewhat annoying, I sigh in relief once I successfully execute the download. My body was ready...to give out on itself, I was so tired. I drag myself to the dirty, ragged mattress just behind my work station and fall right into a blissful sleep, not even bothering to throw the scruffy navy blue blanket over me, despite the bitter cold temperature in my apartment. I don't care about any of that anymore; I've finished an all-nighter task, and some shuteye is just what I need.

Thursday, July 9, 905 CE. 7:00 AM.

A sudden droning noise suffering major corruption jolts me awake. A groan of grief and fatigue slip through my gritted teeth as I push my weight against gravity and sit upright. The back of the room's wall, the source itself being my laptop's monitor, is overlayed by a distinct blue hue, one I utterly loathed to ever see again. Just barely able to lift myself in bed, I'm not too keen on trying to get on all fours. It was mandatory, nonetheless; with my first attempt, the weariness took great effect, making my regular body weight seem five times heavier.

I eventually reach my work station and lift the portable intercom to my ear as if it were a mobile telephone.

"Hey, Aura, I need a bit of help here."

...

No response.

"Aura?"

I bring the device in front of my face and squint my eyes. How embarrassing it was to discover that I had to hold the button for the device to detect sound. With said button held, I repeat my distress call.

"Aura, I need a bit of help here."

"Shadow!" she abruptly replies in a gleeful tone. "It's the fourth time you called me today!"

She takes a sudden pause for whatever reason, and with her attention in my hoof, I therefore choose to address the issue.

"What the buck is it now?"

The abrupt interruption catches me off-guard. "I was just about to tell you," I mutter, stress clearly expressed. With yet another sigh, I resume in my attempt to state the problem. "I got another bluescreen, this time during a download."

"Yeah? What's it say this time?"

"Let's see..." I quickly scan through the report, looking for anything of interest. "It says here that Hor.exe is the source of the error."

Her tone suddenly changes. "You received this error during the download, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, buck..."

"'Oh, buck'? It's probably just another-"

"Shadow, you need to get out of there!"

My brain's slow to pick up, but it eventually got the message; I've been caught. "Oh, Tartarus..."

"If the error just occured, they'll be on your flank real fast - E.T.A. 10 minutes!"

A place immediately came to mind: Checkpoint A. They've never received information too quickly, so I might have a chance at slipping into the Eastern territory.

"I'm heading to Checkpoint A."

"Are you bucking crazy!? You'll be shot down by Luna's private militia!"

"You and I both know the security guards in Checkpoint A are some slow ponies."

"No, Shadow, I'm referring to the militia patrolling the streets!"

One of Luna's private militias, the LMC - short for Lunar Military Company and the abbreviation itself often used to identify their hardened soldiers - is a sort of prestige system, where the few of her best-trained experts in marksmanship picked from the crowd of 200 other veterans are given a privilage to rank up from Private. The select few that make it to the LMC show undying loyalty to Princess Luna and the Lunar Republic as well as demonstrating stellar marksmanship, lightning-fast reflexes, and eyes of griffons. With the LMC roaming the streets, aware of my presence, it's practically a death wish to step outside. I have a chance, though, so it's worth a try. There's always a chance.

My M1911SD within range, I drag it towards me and check for ammunition. "It's not the greatest idea, I know, but I have to try." Having verified the handgun is loaded with a full magazine and a chambered bullet, I reinsert the magazine. "Farewell, Aura. May our paths cross in the future."

"Shadow, wait!"

I lay the portable intercom back on my desk, refusing to respond to her.

"Shadow? Shadow, please don't ignore me!"

I'm wasting time.

"Shadow!"

If I’m going to successfully slip past the LMC, I’m going to need a disguise. There’s no time to conceive an alias, I can only pray that Checkpoint A hasn’t been informed of me just yet.

First thing’s first – how am I going to disguise myself?

With a glare towards my ragged navy blue blanket, an invisible lightbulb illuminates directly above my head. I instantaneously snatch the blanket, throw it on my back, and tie two corners together at my neck.

…Ponyfeathers, I’m going to need more than this.

I sit down on the cold, wooden floor, hoof on chin and glaring around the room, looking for a way I could cover my face while still appearing normal.

That’s it! I can use that old, black fedora a friend of mine bequeathed upon me before his departure to the Solar Empire’s province. Despite his betrayal, I’ve treasured the worn piece of apparel, and Luna’s sake, I’m glad I did!

I swipe a Duffel bag from under my work station’s table. The lack of apparel filling the bag gives it a lumpy appearance and not as much weight as one would expect, in spite of the fact that these are usually made of some thick fabric. I open the Duffel bag, only to find miscellaneous attire. Doubting the fedora had just disappeared, I shuffle the clothing inside, hoping it’s just hidden under the other clothing. With luck on my side, the fedora was infact under a familiar tattered red vest. I examine the hat to check for any damage or imperfections, and then if I’ve yet to outgrow it. The hat hovers above me and slides itself over my head, my horn sliding through an intentionally-created hole in the front.

Still fits.

I lift the back of the hat to conceal my excessively-long mane within it.

Let’s see… What else am I missing? …Oh, the portable flash drive; I’m going to need that!

As I grab the flash drive, a thought gets me wondering.

But Tartarus, if they catch me, all my data’s going to the NLR’s records. There has to be some way I can preserve it. …Gah! Think, Shadow, think! You’re running out of time!

…

Aura! Ah, but she probably hates me for what I did… Such a betrayal is never so easily forgiven, but it's still worth a shot. After all, someone once told me that you never know until you give it a try.

With a flip of the gun, I slip it into a leather holster and strap said holster around my neck.

Hopefully I'll only use this as a last resort. The last thing I need is to be tried in court for treason AND first degree murder.

I levitate the portable intercom to my mouth, ready to speak. I hesitate prior to pressing the button.

"Aura?"

I wait patiently for a reply. Eventually, she picks up.

"Shadow."

...

"Aura, listen. I-"

"Are you aware," she intercepts, "how distressing it is to know a close friend of yours is in harm's way, and they deliberately restrict communication? Do you have any bucking idea!?"

"Aura, I-"

"It's not just distressing, but also rude! Betrayal, even! It-"

"Aura!"

"Don't 'Aura' me, you bastard! I'm not done with you!"

"Just say what you needed to say already!"

"I was going to offer you to duck in my place, but nooooo, you just blocked me out! You couldn't even devote ten bucking seconds to listen to me!?"

Three heavy knocks sound off, their source being the door.

"This is the LMC," shouts a mare. "Drop any and all weapons or you will be shot!"

"Excuse you," I snap, "Madam Trigger Hoof McRude-Flank! I'm tryna have a conversation here!"

"McRude-Flank," Aura echoes. "Quite hypocritical, when you really think about it."

I squeeze a few words through compressed laughter, just barely coming out as "Ah, buck you, too!"

"This is your final warning!" the LMC operative affirms. "Drop your weapon and surrender! Now!"

"...Wait, what?"

"I'm not going to repeat myself!" She rams something into the door.

"No, I'm not referring to that-"

The same slamming noise recurs.

"And stop banging on my door for a sec! What did you say you were?"

"LMC - the Lunar Military C-"

"LMC? Luna's sake, why didn't you say so?"

"I did, you idiot!"

"Oh." While she waits for anything else I may have to say, I corner myself behind the door. Just then, the door nearly snaps in half as she rams right into it. Her pink hooves grasping an assault rifle equipped with an underbarrel flashlight, she scans the room up and down, thoroughly searching for any trace of me - except for behind the fragile, grey-painted wooden door currently shielding me.

She releases the foregrip previously held by her left hoof to grasp an object attached on the chest area of her uniform. Her right hoof, still firmly holding onto the pistol grip, rests on the floor for support. "PFC Pinkamena Pie to Base," she says through her walkie talkie. "Come in, Base."

"...ase to P...kamena... ...your status?"

"Shadowdancer is no longer in the vicinity. I repeat, we've lost sight of the target. Over."

"...None of...reinforcem... ...to have seen the t... He m... still be in th... ...Put... on lockdown..."

"Sir, there's civilians within the hotel. Are you sure that's-"

"We'll have... ...nforceme...s evac... each ...maining c... Focus on ...ain obj..."

"Sir, I-"

"Pinkamena, I will n... ...rgue with you ...ny longer."

"Yes, sir." She emits a lowly sigh before turning to her companion. "Alright, let's move out." The two march along the hallway, their hoofsteps eventually dissipating to soundlessness.

I appear from behind the door, utterly shocked and with no clue as to why she did not search everywhere. The only excuse anywhere near logical is that she's a Private First Class.

"We gonna get back to arguing? Or have you decided to come with me?" Aura asks in a certain tone, as if expecting me to select the second choice.

Remaining somewhat shocked, I hesitate to reply. "The latter."

"Alright, but you owe me."

"Deal."