Crysis: The Guardian Prophecy

It was a lengthy two-day travel to Cauldron. Alcatraz and Psycho took advantage of their Nanosuits’ negating their need for sleep to make that trip in half of the four days it would’ve taken most people or ponies. After patching in their APC into a GPS satellite network, they alternated who was driving while en route to their destination.

As they reached the midway point, Psycho was at the wheel.

“So Alcatraz,” He began. “What’s this ‘Cauldron’ place like? It’s pretty obvious it’ll be a haven for international fugitives like us. Christ, I can’t believe I’m a bloody fugitive.”

“Me neither. Basically, it’s an independent city-state near a three-way river. It sits between Equestria, the Gryphon Kingdom, and Diamond Dog territory. It’s like a melting pot where none of their governments can reach them, making it a haven for terrorists and criminals, like Omega in Mass Effect.”

“Let me guess. A ton of crime, crime bosses rule the place, and no Aria T’Loak either?”

“Yeah. Basically, it operates under the watch of dozens of criminal organizations and lacks a unifying figure. The government there is its own gang, with the police and defense force acting as enforcers; they’re a minor gang though, and they only control part of the city. Every gang has its own turf, but about a third of the city is contested.”

“What’s the plan then? Join up with some gang and offer our services?”

“I was thinking more like ‘3rd Street Saints’.”

“Start our own gang and take over? Seems a bit ambitious.”

“Well, that’s a long-term goal. Short-term is to create a merc group, get some steady income, and find-slash-build an HQ. Hell, an abandoned warehouse will do while we get acclimated.”

“So we go to a crime-infested city and try to work as mercenaries with just a few K-Volts, M17 frag grenades, some knives and M12 Novae we got from those CELL wankers earlier? Count me out; we can’t work with that shitty arsenal.”

“Pull over.”

Psycho drove off the forest path they’d been on.

“Look, I’m sorry mate, but it’s not feasib-”

“Shut up and get back here. I need to show you something.”

Psycho moved back to the troop compartment. Alcatraz opened hidden compartments under the seats and showed him their arsenal.

“Two gray-painted SCARs, one gauss attachment, one grenade launcher; approximately 4,000 rounds of 4mm. Two gray-painted SCARABs, with the attachments being the same as the SCAR, plus four suppressors, one underbarrel shotgun; sharing ammo and magazines with the SCAR. Four M12 Novae, plus our eight captured ones, with three suppressors and laser sights; 800 rounds of 9mm. One Hammer with default nickel finish, extended mags, and customized red tritium night sights, plus two suppressors for it; 480 rounds of .50 Compact. Two Majestic revolvers, sharing ammo with the Hammer. Two Jackal autoshotties, extended mags and adjustable chokes; 300 shells of 12 gauge. Three Marshall pump-action shotguns, two suppressors; sharing ammo with the Jackals. One DSG-1 with a suppressor; 120 rounds of .405. One Mk 60 Mod 0 with 600 rounds of 7.62x51mm AP. One Grendel with gray furniture instead of the normal olive drab, and 720 rounds of 6.8x43mm.”

“Shit. I take it back, we’re set to equip a platoon!” Psycho smiled, and retracted the front of his helmet to reveal his grinning face.

“I ain’t done bro.” Alcatraz likewise revealed his smug face. “Twelve packs of C4. Twenty M17 frags. Two JAWs. Twelve assault scopes, twelve reflex sights, two cleaning kits for each weapon. One HMG up top with 300 rounds of .50 BMG. We can operate for a while with all this.”

“Brilliant.”

“This VL-90 has an autopilot program, and my suit’s AI is unlocking it as we speak. It converts water to hydrogen fuel, making range a non-issue. It’s also fully amphibious, travelling at 12 miles per hour in moderately choppy seas. An advanced protection system protects occupants from NBC threats. A silent running feature makes it ideal for surprise attacks. Modular applique armor already added on makes it almost as tough as an MBT. We can definitely start out with the shit we’ve got here.”

“And what do we not have?”

“What we lack at the moment? Personnel, money, contacts, a home base, booze. Well, I’ve got about a thousand Equestrian bits, but while that’s the currency of Cauldron, one-k isn’t much. We need to get rolling and find a place to stay.”

Alcatraz got on the wheel. Twenty-four hours later, they were driving through the filthy streets of Cauldron.

Psycho stared out the small side windows, his Nanosuit sealed, like Alcatraz’. “Looks like a bloody slum. How are we gonna get new weapons and ammo here anyway?”

“Arms dealers. They’ve got the same weapons here as they do on Earth, for some reason. Shit, there’s a lotta parallels to Earth history and weapons, and the ponies can use them without fingers some-fucking-how. Anyway, we’ll need to buy them ourselves.”

After locating a vacant warehouse that was in good conditions and well-located, they parked the APC inside. They grabbed a few weapons to take, got out, shut the hatches and left after rigging up an alarm system linked to their sealed helmets.

***

“I don’t believe it! I refuse to believe Alky would kill innocent ponies!”

“Pinkie, be reasonable! There’s a lot of evidence against them, irrefutable evidence!”

Twilight Sparkle was at her wit’s end. She’d been trying to convince Pinkie that Alcatraz was guilty as charged for the past two days. She’d heard it from high-ranking sources that there were multiple instances of damning evidence corroborated by the human’s data on him. In fact, she had memorized the report.

Rainbow Dash seemed to have taken Pinkie’s side, going beyond the reasonable definition of being the Element of Loyalty for Alcatraz.

“Okay. You say that Pinkie’s Pinkie Sense can’t free him right? What about the evidence that doesn’t match up?” Rainbow was sitting down and staring at Twilight.

“Dash, too much evidence is against him already.” Twilight facehoofed. “First, there’s the nanosignatures that match up to his suit and his accomplice’s. Then, the communications from inside the embassy suggested that the perpetrators used Nanosuits. The accuracy of the shots and short length of the massacre indicate high-quality combat training. The ammunition used was marked with human company names. No blood was shed by them, and several bullets were flattened on the meplat and lying on the floor, further suggesting the use of Nanosuits, specifically their armor mode. The footprints match those of the Nanosuit 2 Alcatraz wears.”

Pinkie stretched her neck from the ceiling, which she had apparently been sitting on, he flank resting in a manner contrary to the influences of gravity. Dash had told them that she was familiar with Pinkie walking on walls and ceilings when she was upset. “Counterpoint time!” She yelled, causing Twilight to fall on her flank. “Dashie?” Pinkie smiled at Rainbow Dash.

“Thank you. The primary target was believed to be a group of CELL defectors. Keyword: defector. I believe it was CELL that did it to defend themselves from any dirt that could be revealed by said turncoats, while simultaneously framing their biggest enemy and some other guy they probably didn’t like. Given that CELL is a subsidiary of CryNet, who makes the Nanosuit 2, it isn’t unreasonable to assume that other Nanosuit 2s are out there in the hands of CELL. Furthermore, the ammunition used was from the same batch number as a large order procured by CELL; a little more digging reveals that this batch was purchased a week after the arrival of Alcatraz in Equestria. This means that he couldn’t possibly have used the ammunition he already had. Lasty, there's no way he could've covered the distance he did between the last time he was seen and the massacre actually happening.”

Twilight’s jaw fell to the floor. She had to use her magic to pick it up, and her first words were ones of surprise. “When did you get so good at investigating?”

“Since the new Daring Do book came out last week,” She answered smugly.

“There’s a new Daring Do book out? And you learned to investigate crimes from it!? Why would- No don’t tell me! I want it to be a surprise!”

Pinkie high-hoofed Dash from the ceiling.

“Your evidence notwithstanding, the ruling is still guilty, and if we even took these points to somepony important, we could be put in danger,” Rarity said, putting a damper on their moods.

“I agree. I’ve read many conspiracy novels, so I feel secure enough to call myself an expert, and the best course of action is to keep this a secret. The fewer ponies who know, the fewer who can give us up to an informant. Even Princess Celestia’s royal court could be compromised. We’re on our own in proving this.” Twilight’s tone was melodramatic, as were her posturing and facial expressions.

***

The two Nanosuited men walked into a (rather large) bar, both trying to think of a punchline. The bartender was unfazed, as was typical of the genre of joke. They sat down and looked him in the eye. The bartender, being a minotaur with a glass eye, stared them both right back at the same time.

Alcatraz spoke first. “Do you have any tequila?” He hoped Twilight had been wrong about there being no tequila on Equis.

“The stuff made from agave? Jackrabbit Slim has that.” Indeed, his name was Jackrabbit Slim, as the nametag indicated.

“Three shots of your strongest tequila.”

“Strongest or best?”

“Strongest.”

“Three of your strongest absinthe. Don’t even try watering it down.”

“Please. Jackrabbit Slim started this establishment to provide real booze in this part of town, without watering any liquor down.”

“Good to hear, mate.”

Beneath their helmets, Alcatraz and Psycho began conversing privately with the short-range radios.

“Did that minotaur just say his name was-”

“Yeah dude, he totally did.”

“Oh my god, if this place gets robbed while we’re in it, I’ll literally shit myself laughing.”

“Nasty.”

“Well the Nanosuit is like a big, self-maintaining, semi-organic diaper, so it’s not like we’d really do anything more than provide it with new materials. Although I don’t really have anything in the pipe right now.”

“Makes sense. The N2 just takes it before I shit though, so I don’t really have the diaper thing to worry about.”

Jackrabbit Slim served them their drinks. After scanning the drinks to make sure they were free of harmful substances other than alcohol, the two men revealed their faces without removing their helmets. After a couple minutes of downing their drinks and tolerating the burn of their chosen alcoholic beverages, they got down to business.

“We’re looking for work, Slim,” Alcatraz opened. “Mercenary work.”

“You wanna get aligned with a gang, or stay freelance?”

“Freelance.”

“Jackrabbit Slim knows a job that a certain businessgriffon wants done. High risk. In the Undercity. Rescue his daughter from an archeological dig.”

“What, she a bloody digger?” Psycho half-joked.

“No. She’s a merc hired to help guard the dig.”

“We’re new in town. What exactly is the Undercity?” Alcatraz asked.

“Basically, when Cauldron was young, criminals were sent to a vacuous natural cavern underground. They lived out their lives, married, had children. They lived down there and established a fairly vibrant and peaceful community down there, a few thousand strong. Now, at some point in the last three years, a virus broke out and infected the inhabitants. Females seem to be immune, some males too, but most males turned into-”

“Zombies?” Alcatraz interrupted.

“Yes. If you want to take the job, contact Mr. Grimwing at this number. Not a soul has made it back from trying to accomplish that job.” Slim passed them a slip of paper with a number on it.

“Surviving in extremely hostile environments is our specialty. Right, Psycho?”

“Damn right.”

“The job offer was put out four days ago. A rescue should’ve taken one day, but the last mercs to go in went two days ago. I know the griffon in question, and she could hold out for a week, maybe two, but I don’t think you should waste time.”

“Alright, thanks. How much for the booze?”

“Twelve bits.”

Alcatraz counted out a dozen coins and handed them over. He and Psycho began to walk out.

“And if you bring her back alive, Jackrabbit Slim will throw in a 25% discount for you going forward!” The minotaur shouted after them.

They returned to their warehouse and entered the APC. Alcatraz contacted the number, which was apparently a Skype-type link, as his suit directed it to a vid-conference screen inside the APC.

“Hello. I’ve reserved this line for information on the rescue of my daughter, Gilda. Since I haven’t seen you before, I assume you’re looking to start a rescue of my daughter.”

Alcatraz and Psycho removed their helmets completely and placed them in their laps. The griffon sat in a luxurious room that reminded Alcatraz of Hargeave’s sanctuary. His head was that of a bald eagle, although where the white feathers on his head would be were grey. His talons were clasped together and lay on the desk in front of him.

“That’d be correct, Mr…” Alcatraz trailed off.

“Grimwing. Mr. Gallant Grimwing. Is there anything you wish to know about the Undercity? I’m quite familiar with it.”

“Yes, sir. What’s the terrain like? How will we get to the Undercity? How many survivors are there? What kind of infected will we encounter?”

The griffon laughed deeply and heartily, before settling down. “Well, I know you humans are new on this planet, but it’s good to see you aren’t fools! None of the mercs before you asked about anything more than how they’d get there and how to recognize Gilda. What’re your names, your qualifications?”

“Lieutenant Theodore Alcatraz. I was recently discharged after ten years of service in United States Marine Corps, which I joined as soon as I graduated high school, seven of which were in Marine Special Operations Command. I’ve got plenty of combat experience, and I’m familiar with fighting non-humans.”

“Sergeant Michael ‘Psycho’ Sykes. Former British SAS, ten years in. Similar combat experience with non-humans.”

“Ah, military men. I was Major in the Griffon Marines, myself. Then I can speak in a more technical parlance?”

“Please do, sir,” Alcatraz answered.

“Your AO is predominately urban, with the maximum engagement distance being about a hundred meters, but normally closer than that. Leave your sniper rifles behind if you have any. Ruined city, a lot of rubble blocking streets and vertical combat. I’ll provide an old elevator that’s close to the camp Gilda was in when it was overrun. From what I could tell, none of the other mercs made it that far, but they seemed incompetent to start with.”

“Survivors?”

“Unknown concentration, largely hostiles and raiders. Plenty of weapons too, expect firefights. Check your targets. My last contact with Gilda suggested she had three others with her. I can get a message to her telling her not to shoot you, but that’s about it with the limited communications down there.”

“Infected?”

“The zombies seem to be in specialized roles. Pegasi became dive-bombing scouts. Earth ponies are cannon fodder. Unicorns charge at enemies and try to gore them with their enlarged, magic-infused horns. Griffons attack like pegasi but have plenty of staying power. Minotaurs are even bigger and tougher, acting like bullet sponges. Diamond Dogs charge their enemies and pound them with their fists.”

“Got it. Scouts, grunts, slashers, elites, bulls, and brawlers.”

“I’ll send you the location of the elevator. Be there inside of three hours and contact me when you get there.” The image was replaced with a few pictures of a female griffon, presumably Gilda, and the audio connection terminated.

“Bloody thankful to know what to use.”

Alcatraz grabbed three packs of C4 and five M17 grenades. He took an M12 Nova and took ten spare magazines with him to total 200 spare and 21 9mm rounds loaded. He grabbed a Jackal, attached a reflex sight, and grabbed twelve extended magazines for 120 plus 11 shells of 12-gauge at the ready. He rounded out with a Grendel with an assault scope and ten spare mags for 240 plus 25 rounds of 6.8mm in the magazine and chamber. The Grendel had its olive drab parts replaced with gray ones for urban combat.

“Alright, I’m packing a balanced kit. Accuracy, power, flexibility, capacity. I can get plenty of headshots with these, and the shotty should cover me in CQC with plenty of firepower. I’ve got a laser sight on my Nova and a suppressor for it just in case”

“Got it. I’ll take a complementary approach.”

Psycho grabbed three packs of C4 and five M17 grenades. He loaded a Majestic revolver and put it in his holster, as the Nanosuit 1 had to use a physical pistol holster and only had magnetic plates on the back, and took 120 spare rounds of .50 Compact. He grabbed a Mk. 60 Mod 0 with a reflex sight and 200 rounds spare for a total of 300 7.62 armor-piercing NATO rounds. To complete the set, he took a SCARAB with gray furniture, a reflex sight, 400 rounds of 4mm, an underslung shotgun with 4 loaded and 20 shells spare, and took a suppressor to put on if he needed to.

“You pop skulls and I make mulch?” Psycho asked.

“Sounds good.”

The two of them left their APC and traveled to the point the client had sent them. It took a mere hour to travel the slum-like streets, and no-one dared to trifle with them. They were unfamiliar, intimidating creatures carrying a large amount of weaponry, walking as though they had somewhere to be and their weapons weighed nothing.

They got on the elevator and contacted the client.

“Mr. Grimwing, we’re on the elevator and ready to depart,” Alcatraz informed him.

“Camera only shows two of you. That right?”

“Yes sir. We’ve both fought very long odds on our own, and work well as a team.”

“Well, at least you’re loaded for bear. Ancestors guide you.”

The link was terminated, and the elevator lurched downwards.

“You didn’t mention that we haven’t worked in a team together before,” Psycho noted.

“No need to worry him.”