PonyHammer: Night Lord

The joyful sound of hoofs on the hoof filled the air as soon as we returned.

• We pulled them up! Everyone and everyone!

In our own way, we took revenge, even if not to the full extent of ours. But now even such a simple trifle was a clean apple in a pool of guano. I needed to hand over my armor to clean and calibrate Ebony and ClearNight. Our technophone and servants still have their work done around the old one, and the old Clear will most likely be beside himself with anger when he finds out.

The wounds on the wings have healed, only light scars will remain as a reminder, but days will pass, and even they will heal, like any small wound. Speaking of scars, DesMark caught sight of me, knocking his head against Krieg, trying not to hook him with his horn. The radar, it seems, stopped to drown in drugs, because there was no trace of the reception. "Northern Dust" leaves no long traces of adoption. Now does not leave.

He rushed to me, looking at the corpse, and was very upset when I threw him on the ground and it became clear that there was no head.

• Did not work?

What were you waiting for, Radar? What will I capture him alive? That I risk everything for your empty revenge? Looks like that, and you waited, and I let you down.

• How is the Glider?

He shivered and began to examine the corpse.

• Well, it is stable, and some time in the apothecary will raise it.

• What are you planning to do?

• I thought to skinned and hang on the frontal armor. I left my car clean for too long.

That would be a mistake: the skull at the peak can be quickly removed. It was strange to hear from him. The radar was with us ... simply because it was, therefore it is “Radar”, therefore it is a radio operator. But it seems that soon the blood of a warrior will leap in it, and maybe I will have to clean my tracks.

• Hold off; do it but hide it. Now we have no opportunity to be ourselves.

He smiled and clutched at me.

• Do you want to return everything, Master Claw?

Doomed with phrases, first Flauver.

• If possible. But I have opportunities. At least I hope so.

Looking at him, I felt that everything was going to work out. His joy at these words was amazing and contagious, but so far he has hope and the one who will support him. I have a task: do not let him down.

All Krieg threw over the ground under the triple "cheers" and his laughter. Nobody was embarrassed that the victory was not ours, but belonged to the Scars. We have shown ourselves, and this is enough for them.

I left them in speed: my presence and such joy from Radar can sow unnecessary rumors and conversations, but I cannot order them all to just keep quiet or cut off their tongues. I just don't want to.

***

The servants live in underground rooms connected by a network of tunnels, which allows them to quickly move around the premises and carry out tasks and tasks with maximum safety even during combat. Big McIntosh was particularly concerned about the construction pattern, so I would have sinned without asking for a scheme for my company. Here and now, the base on soft ground equipped by us could withstand a massive attack and give us time to regroup and retreat. Although, I will be honest, if this red giant had learned that we had replaced fortified points and trenches with traps and additional escape routes, he would not be happy. Remembering this scandal that he gave his sister when he learned about minor adjustments for convenience...

I smelled the corpse, passing by. And not that I was surprised, though, so brazenly, when we are on the front line ... Servants, it seems, also feel that our grip is weakening. After all, they, too, are subject to "a decrease in heartlessness and cruelty." And they, unlike the legionnaires, were non-doctrinal criminals.

Obviously, someone decided to use the combat trap on the middle minotaur or manticore to crack down on another. The stakes were smeared with concentrated poison and dope from the extract of Melange, which expands the mind and acts as a light enhancer of sensations, so that it had to scream on these stakes for about a minute, and scream so that the whole camp would hear it. It was planted on the belly, not on the croup or upside down. She could not so fall on these pins, given their size and the fact that she was a Pegasus, and only one wing was broken, and very casually some pipe was broken. So, probably, it wasn’t earthly or pegasus: pegasi do not like to break each other’s wings out of solidarity. Although maybe someone sadism manifested.

The servants for each legion accounted for a lot, before the Long Night a huge number of ponies arrived in the metropolitan area under the life integration program: bat ponies, zebras ... I heard that there were even Kirins, however, all changeings disappeared when this was announced ... Nobody and did not understand why, and nobody cried about them. So with mass mobilization, for each clatter there were at least one or two assistants for small things like cooking food and five over measure for the general work on the battlefield. Someone had to dig trenches, protect the base and cook food? Although they coped with the second so-so: the issued weapon was mainly a weak personal weapon, and the legions themselves equipped their servants if they wanted. Or helped them. We simply ignored them. No one wanted to work for criminals and grovel before them. So scored the same. Another thing is that some were recruited by gangs, and from time to time they had to be reminded that harmony still reigns here.

Radar and others like him for a long time kept their heads off to everyone that this was slavery, and they themselves went to work. Especially they were fond of digging trenches: this is a thankless task for Bat Ponies, but he perceived it stoically, “we cannot exploit them.” But they are here of their own free will, although it is worth saying that they are basically changed like horseshoes: very few survive the front-line life.

I was going to look at the "lower market", in fact - "black". It was a bit of a curiosity shop. Gangs usually collected trinkets and other things and resold them to someone. This eliminates the need to personally dig in the garbage and contributes to the domestic economy, but someone seemed to be terribly wound up, because when I entered, a bullet from a pistol flew into my head. The itch from hitting will be a long time annoying ... I guess they were frightened by the corpse taken with him. I saw Ebony, which between times was spinning here and there in her overalls, from which, even among many others, I could smell the medicines. All instantly clung to the ground and cocked their accumulated pistols, knives and everything else in anticipation that the shooting would begin now. Well, they learn. I hate it when civilians do not respond to the command "lie down" and come under attack. Beats on reputation.

However, everything fell silent immediately, as everyone understood who they were shooting at. Arrow instantly tied his own comrades and pushed forward. One of them, trembling with this very pistol in his teeth, came up to me, coming out to meet them. Both were from the engineering group, and, judging by the clothes and tags, belonged to the same gang. Six and approximate ... It seems that I have not seen this gang before. Probably a new formation from some city that fought with another legion on the other side of the country. Judging by the scars and the bruising, they were soldiers, but it doesn't seem like someone strong.

• S-sorry, sir! O-he did not make out! We are not used to seeing you without armor! - He muttered, trying to justify himself. Nonsense: at the base we try to walk in it as little as possible, they could not see us without it. Ebony slipped through a quiet crowd like a ghost. Many unfamiliar faces. Looks like we have recently updated the staff. Gladii walked over the tendons on his front hooves, knocking the arrow on his knees. Before that, he stood, it seems, not knowing very well what situation he had got into; He seemed to have tried to hit back, but Ebony went behind me just as quickly. She obviously had other things to do, so I nodded to her and she disappeared into the crowd again.

Earth pony hissed through his teeth, but raised his head and continued to look; he may die of bleeding, but we have enough time to talk about things. I gently put the body next to and said:

• If she has friends or relatives, take her and bury her.

• Mom! - was heard from the crowd. The young filly, barely three years old as having received a cutie mark, ran out to me and began to examine the body, trying not to cry in front of me in the whole neighborhood. Someone helped her carry the body, and I made a note that I would need to do this later. Rarely, when you see a family in our ranks, it must be redirected to a rehabilitation center.

• Made an orphan, abused before death, tried to hide, ruined the property of the Legion, undermined our security ...

I didn’t want to think about the second one, it was just unpleasant, but the smell from the intercourse on the corpse was so obvious to me that it was just annoying. Fortunately, no one except me is aware of this.

• And you think that after that I will believe that he simply "did not recognize me"? Speak, you have a chance to justify yourself.

He did not shudder. The people in the meantime tried to continue their business, but still did not take their eyes off: someone used and tried to work in their wallets, and unicorns in their pockets.

• That bitch that cuts my legs, someone, they say, is covered, with some bastard of yours. I had to kill her friend. Problems?

He became insane from fear, not only from the fact that he shot, the shot only turned off the last feelings of self-preservation, and he tries to at least die with dignity.

• Who sent you here?

• I don’t know, they have distributed and that's it, come on, take out your axe and chop it up already. And then do me a favor and die.

The stallion folded its head, waiting for a strike. Axe, mean? Many who can be, but in effect and not knowing us ... Laughing Eaters, probably. But it doesn't matter, he thinks that he will die for it instantly ... The Pinkie Pie Legion solves the matter with one stroke and does not think.
I turned my eyes to the slightly dumbfounded but joyful assistant, he seems to hope that all the blame will fall on the madman nearby, and I was ready to please him.

• Make sure he survives, find Ebony or some of the other servants of the older legionaries. Take it to SkullRiver and say that he has a new test subject for new tools. Until then, make sure that he temporarily replaces the end of the waste systems and his diet was full in this matter.

If the Princess finds out about this, or at least Flower, I can successfully lay my head on the block, but they don’t need to know about it at all, not one of them was under Nocturne. They do not fully know how free they can be, and old servants will tell them what is waiting for the disobedient.
I wonder what Scull River will come up with.

***

So it always happens: I went to talk to Ebony one-on-one, and here's the result: she consoled this orphan and at the same time checked something in the data tablet that I gave her. I watched from the roof of my cell and read their dialogue on the lips for the sake of prevention, at the same time sending to the Ebony tablet an order to send this filly to the center directly to Flutterbat upon my request. Flutter tends to give them priority.

Behind this process, I was thinking about the situation we were all in. If Soarin's error manifests itself violently, then this can be worth everything. If Las Pegasus knows who burned Nocturne, then my name and my company can become a coffin in a diplomatic mission. I need to urgently withdraw from this status and give it to Fleur. With this thought, I contacted her, returning to my room, but the incoming call directly from Princess of the Moon and Prince Sanguinis made me cool down my ardor and prepare for a strict countdown. Despite the fact that I am no longer the Master of the Claw, I still ... have some opportunity for a personal dialogue with the Princess, even now very crumpled. For this, I even had a personal holo-projector, which I used only in two cases.

Perhaps many will say that the new mighty form of the princess has made her even more divine ... I could not agree with them. May we and the people be warlike, the night has always been a mother, not a military leader, and how she becomes them, each time was given to bitterness. I'm not sure that this opinion was shared by someone else. This seems to have been wrong. Therefore I pushed it as far as possible. The last thing she needs to hear is that I consider her too ... far away from us, now far away. Sanguinis stood nearby, who seemed to have just returned from the battle. Eyes shouted that he soothes the thirst for blood, these veins from his eyes ... The projector did not show it in all its glory, but the dark blue filter coped so as not to slander her appearance. Majestic and noble in her form, Princess of the Night, tall, elegant and sophisticated ... It could be called unearthly, which to some extent was true. It is difficult to speak about it in concrete words, I just have to bathe in the rays of its greatness through attempts by a pathetic machine to imitate it.

Many are filled with the desire to express themselves in moments when the Matriarch, and even more so the Princess looks at you. It becomes an alluring idea, and you just have to keep yourself in hand. But I left my eyes as if with a set of bones, a skeleton, which has nothing and nothing to hide.

• The princess wants a report, sergeant.

Sanguinis plays the role of her voice when she believes that she should not waste time talking to someone who does not deserve it. I wonder why he invited me if he continues to do this.

• You shouldn't waste time on formalities, Prince, now this is a personal conversation. Valdes, I want to know the state of your company and its readiness to join the battle at Stalliongradde and Las Pegasus.

So they want to relocate us closer to Las Pegasus? Stalliongrad? He is on the other end of Equestria! We are waiting for a hard march after this operation. Sanguinis snarled and looked somewhere outside the capture zone of the camera.

• Princess, I need to know what the official report is to make the appropriate corrections.

She looked down at me as I tried to keep track of what was happening outside of my room, but it seemed that my ears were blocked. Just think, once it was synonymous with the word "blind", but it was this feeling that I now experienced.

• Reports from your legions differ, so I’m sending new model, "Sicaran" battle tank. They have already perfectly proved themselves in the main companies and other legions as more versatile machines and superior to them in the elimination of fast targets. I want to know why I did it and on whose tip ...

Cause and tip? Soarin, there is no need to think.

• ... But more importantly, I want to know why I would have to ... But more importantly, I want to know why I had to listen to this assumption. Why aren't you in Las Pegasus? What are the next moves?

Yes, it was a problem, we did not receive an embassy, and in fact we only exchanged facts and thoughts. But the question is ... We did not ask for it or did not give it to us on our own?
Recalling it now, I understand how easy it was for us: a few quick actions, checks and provocations - and now we’re on edge and don’t want to discuss anything. Even Fleur either didn’t notice or was silent for some reason.

• We will continue to insist on our intentions, Princess.

It did not suit her, the movement of the cheekbones showed it to me, but did it ... turn into a smile?

• Fleur in her report gave me a few thoughts. For you, as a leading diplomat, I have a new task. You have a hard job ahead of you, but I’m sure you can do it and do it. Fleur already knows everything, Soarin will continue to act in his manner, and you have to use this ...

I cleared my throat, very carefully, and she gave me a voice, even if it was only confirmed by the sudden silence and nod of Sanguinis.

• Princess ... You must give Fleur the status of the lead of this mission.

She watched my every word, it was visible in my eyes, and my heart pounded wildly at this look.

• As you ... you know, Nocturne was ... known to Las Pegasus, my further fulfillment of this task puts it at risk.

The air froze in my throat, I almost exhaled and did not show my excitement more clearly than she sees. The smile did not fall from her face, and it made even more nervous.

• These thoughts have already been expressed by other and much higher persons than the Prefector and the Captain, and, as I said, I am sure that my children are able to do this better than others. If necessary, the eighth company will clean up the slop of this city like any other, and I think that the former Talon Master will make them think more about ... the consequences.

A smile fell from her face when she returned her gaze to me, and not somewhere up. And I didn’t quite understand where I was, as if I felt something else, but it was in me, inside. It was ... I heard this feeling as ... greed.

• The Sun Princess forbade us ...

• Celestia can think about politics and the world as he wants. But here is my order, sergeant: act as you see fit, according to your moral and ideological concepts. Las Pegasus should be part of Equestria with little blood. But what is considered small, I leave to you and Prince Sanguinis.

All this so fed this feeling that I did not know what to think until the sobering blow in the form of Sanguinis did not refresh my head. We responded in chorus, I do not know how Sanguinis, but for me it was a reflex.

• Will be done.

This was the end of the program, and to calm down, I looked at my tablet, where I saw a new message from Sanguinis with a very interesting headline:

"Lucky you".

***

The news about the technique pleased Krieg and other pilots a little in the desire to break in new tanks, we heard about "Sikarans", but we have not tried it yet. However, if you believe the rumors about its accuracy and rate of fire, they will be useful to us soon. Krieg was with me when I decided to look into the dining room and learned that the transports are arriving today, and we can start their testing after calibration tomorrow. But the message of Sanguinis did not give me any more peace, for it was not in his habits to talk about luck. What could possibly happen that he was stingy with such an expression?
In trying to escape from this, I looked around, trying to see something worthwhile attention, but this, unfortunately, was not. Everywhere there is just an ordinary routine: somewhere there, the Third and Fifth Claws fight again, and now I cannot separate them. Someone is just doing hufrestling, I haven’t counted several branches since we lost, so someone hasn’t gotten out. But Scull did everything that was in his power, according to the Ebony reports, though we lost in combat capability and we need new medicines as soon as possible.
Suddenly there was a noise. The strangely familiar sound of flying aviation went over the ears, and ordinary ponies began to run around and take up defensive positions, even the chefs took out laser rifles and poked them in the direction of the shelters under the exclamations that someone else was hungry, while the others were hiding in bunkers or trenches while the legionnaires In general, they began to go out on the launching pad for aviation. Krieg pricked his ears and, jerking his ear, began to listen to what was happening. In his face, it seemed to me that they were attacking us, but given that the siren is not turned on, then everything is fine. I began to listen, followed by inserting a transmitter into my ear - sometimes even I need to stop the flow of information.
- “StormEagle” “Wings of Fire”! Immediately stop picking up speed! Return to construction!
Judging by the frequency, it was someone from the Fifteenth Company of Moon Ponies, probably our tanks, but I jumped up from the spot under the laughter of Krieg, who was falling from the chair, for another reason, I mumbled something, even I didn’t make it out and it sounded like ridiculous. However, if I do not know what sometimes I say, it does not mean that I know something else.
This is my “StormEagle”!
He was turned into something grotesque, smeared with blue and white inks with the ancient treasure number “Eight” on his forehead, she had been there before, only now she was painted on top of something else. The one who committed such vandalism deserved enough sentries to freeze all its edges, even if it is a thunder. How do you order to perform assault operations on this? It is for this purpose intended, and not for his foals to repaint! Smaller than Thunderhuffs, more weapons, less space and everything to throw me into battle with the selected unit, and now rocket systems and laser guns have been removed from it, only the poor searchlight and frontal heavy bolter remained ... why was it brought here ?!
Under the desperate cries of DeathMark, I grabbed his binoculars from him, trying to see what the spot was right on the body with something gilded in the sun — it was a saxophone, and several legionnaires around me even danced to the rhythm of music that seemed to play on the radio channel, so I hurried to connect.
In addition to the muffled cries of familiar voices, music, playing from the saxophone and singing in the discord pony, I heard a clear cry for help.
- Sergeant Valdes on the canal urgently! They threaten to crash the plane on the landing pad!
He was echoed by the singing voice of a filly with a clear Oriental accent.

• This is called landing baby! Get used to it! Cut the belts! We will teach you to land straight into the inferno! Call someone Krieg and his squadron! I need a barrage of eight assault cannon and a pair of lazcannon!

The cries of protest were heard along with the new refrain to the accompaniment of some kind of religious organ music.
This whole combination did exactly one thing - she told me HOW Sanguinis be enraged that he switched to such a word as “luck”.

• Eighth Claw, return to the construction and stop filling the channels of communication without a corresponding order.

The music subsided instantly, and the stain evaporated, falling into the opened hatch. “StormEagle” returned to the building as soon as it caught up with it, and some ponies began to disperse, mostly those whose obligations did not require urgent intervention. The rest in anticipation were waiting for the return of this pack of garbage, which is sometimes referred to as the “Terror Squad”, or the Eighth Claw.