Punishment

The ride was long.

That was the best way to describe it, and perhaps the only way. His wrists hurt, bound behind him not by rope or even handcuffs; the former could be cut and the latter could be picked. Instead a plastic zip-tie had been used to bind his wrists together painfully. The soldiers didn't care about comfort after beating and blindfolding him. They barely even helped him into the back of the truck that he now sat in the back of along with several of his co-conspirators. The wooden bench under his rear hurt after awhile, before his legs eventually went numb.

Slick Talker was not happy about what had become of his life. The Unicorn Stallion had been quite happy with the mares he had serving him, the flow of bits from rich and influential customers, and their protection for his illicit sex trade. It was not beyond reason that the Guard had learned about his operation in a small town just outside of Trottingham. Anypony could have squealed to the authorities about its location and times it was open. The problem, however, was why they had raided it. There was no evidence he was doing anything illegal, and the Nobles on his payroll should have kept the authorities from doing anything, or at least providing advanced warning.

Sure, he did some rather evil things. Many of the mares had been lured to serve through promises of pay, or even a better life. Many that resisted had been hooked on drugs to keep them compliant. And yes, he may have set his eyes upon a white unicorn mare with a brilliant violet mane, but what the whorse could do with her mouth after being drugged up on the proper cocktail was worth the risk! It was her own fault for trying to pass herself off as a Lady when she herself was only a dressmaker from the small town of Ponyville.

It was a shock when the growl of tracked vehicles came from outside his establishment before the front and rear doors simultaneously blew inward. The blasts were quickly followed by groups of dark-shaded Earth Ponies in camouflage fatigues and brandishing assault rifles. They were not kind, not identifying themselves as they grabbed everypony within reach and either forced them to the floor, or struck them with their weapons when they refused to comply. The few muscle ponies he had hired as guards were gunned down without warning when they sprang to Slick's defense.

Naturally he had demanded his Lawyer and complained about his treatment. The soldier that bound him just hit him over the head, growling; "silence, scum!" with a heavy Germane accent. After the magic suppressor was installed on his horn, he was blindfolded and led outside. He was roughly grabbed by another who examined him, then said simply; "Truck A." Every time he opened his mouth from then on, he was hit with a rifle butt or a closed fist.

He demanded to know what was going on, braving the blows from the abusive soldiers. By now his custom three-piece suit was a mess, and he kept idly wondering how much he was going to squeeze out of the government to pay for the cleaning bill. It wasn't until he was left alone in the back of the truck he had an idea of what was going on. He heard shouts and references to a 'Truck B' and a 'Truck C'. He thought idly of what the truck he was on was for.

A pony beside him whispered to him; "Slick? That you?"

"Split Take? Yeah, it's me. Who are these ponies?"

Split was one of Slick's 'employees' in charge of running the business' finances. Collecting payments, and in place of them, blackmail material as required. "I got a glimpse of an Officer's Uniform. We're in deep, Slick. They're not Royal Guard."

"What?" That much was obvious; Cops or Royal Guard wouldn't be this brutal.

"These guys are Germane-SS."

Slick frowned under his blindfold. What were the elite soldiers of Germaneigh doing inside Equestria? "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I heard rumors that after the Changling invasion, Princess Celestia asked the dependencies to send soldiers to help out the Guard. They call it the Equestria Intervention Force. Germaneigh was the first to join up by sending a detachment of their elite guard."

"So, what? We'll just have to hold on until we can talk to a lawyer."

"I don't think so... There are rumors about these guys, Slick. We're in deep..."

The ride after that was long, silent, and boring. A guard that was riding at the tailgate reached over to slap anyone that whispered. The truck bumped and rattled along dirt trails after leaving the Trottingham highway, preventing Slim from having even the faintest clue where they were going. He could hear snoring at one point as a fellow passenger fell asleep - only to receive a slap from a guard.

The agonizing wait eventually came to an end. Shouts from outside could be heard when the engine was turned off, followed by the clang of the tailgate dropping. The prisoners were herded off, soldiers yelling commands for them to march across rough ground through tall grass. Eventually he stepped on something else; it felt like loose dirt.

"Halt!" The officer shouted.

A soldier turned them to face back toward the truck, and the blindfolds were ripped off allowing them to see.

He and his senior-most advisers stood in a line in the middle of a grass field. Behind them a large ditch had been dug by a tractor parked nearby, black-uniformed combat engineers leaning against it watching the proceedings. Before the dozen prisoners were a squad of stormtroopers facing them with their rifles at their sides. A group of officers, mostly Unicorns including an SS General and a senior Royal Guard officer, stood near a staff car, conferring over a list.

When Slick began to demand an explanation, the Lieutenant standing to one side barked for him to remain silent.

Beside him, Split Take nudged his shoulder, nodding toward the Lieutenant when he glanced at his superiors.

"Slick." He whispered. "The band around his forearm."

There was a black band around the lieutenant's left cuff that was a shade darker than the rest of the uniform top. It had bright silver etching and a word embroidered in the same color; 'Totenkopf'.

Slick took the time to quietly mutter back; "What does it mean?"

The officers broke up from their conference, one spoke with the Lieutenant briefly before glancing at the rifle squad. The stormtroopers stood at attention.

Split muttered two words in shocked awe; 'Death Squad'.

The Lieutenant read from a clipboard he had been handed; "By order of our beloved Führer, Her Royal Highness the Princess Celestia, you have been found guilty of High Treason against the Crown and Ponykind. The sentence for your heinous crimes has but one punishment; Summary Execution! My Faust have mercy upon your souls!"

Slick could feel his heart dropping from his chest, the fur under his pressed suit feeling very, very cold. His crimes had come back to haunt him. All his arrogance, his belief that by paying off the elites he could do what he wanted, with any mare that he wanted, had been cast away by a ruler who would do literally anything to protect Her Little Ponies.

"Bereit!" The soldiers brought their weapons up, as one working the bolts to chamber a round.

"Richten Sie!" The rifles were aimed. The commands came quickly, the soldiers performing their task as if it was an everyday occurrence.

"FEUER!"

The rifles roared.

Slick Talker knew no more.

Author's Note

A random thought I had long ago about how I would love to handle some of the more evil monsters and bad guys I've seen in many a dark fic. Fighting evil... by showing them what true evil is... rather ironic, isn't it?

I can think of no other group that is more evil than these guys.

Edit: This is the story that caused me to write this.