It Was a Pleasure to Burn

It Was a Pleasure to Burn

Fire washes the skin off the bone and the sin off the soul. It cleans away the dirt. And my momma didn’t raise herself no dirty boy.

IX - If Something Seems Too Easy...

__________

Caulk stared at Rainbow Dash in disbelief.

"Right now? Seriously?"

"You agreed to it, and I'm expecting you to do it! And yes, right now!" Rainbow Dash shouted, giving Caulk a malicious grin.

Caulk instinctively brought his thumb and index finger up to pinch the bridge of his nose, but the helmet got in his way. "I was at least thinking that I would have the opportunity to make a good first impression."

"Exactly!"

A wave of indignation and anger coursed through Caulk. Had he just been outplayed by one of a race of primitive horses with vastly inferior technology, and especially one that was smart about nothing but sports? He had hoped on Rainbow at least waiting until the rest of the ponies were used to him before making him do this. Jerking his finger at Rainbow but avoiding her eyes he managed to make out, "You planned all this out! That... that is cruel, unusual and... absolutely genius. Well played. Well played indeed."

Turning to leave, Rainbow said, "Well, then let's go! We don't wanna miss the lunch rush in the town square do we?"

Yes. We. DO! Caulk roared inside his head. He hadn't expected this pony to be nearly smart enough to plan out something this diabolical. His self deprecating jokes were one thing, but being deliberately forced into humiliating himself in front of hundreds of people was another thing altogether. All these months of picking on Archie are coming back to bite me in the ass. Fucking karma...

Rainbow Dash smugly trotted out of Caulk's room and through the warehouse, followed by Caulk, who was stomping angrily after her and clenching his fists, and a group of ten guards. When they arrived at the loading door of the warehouse, rather than trying to crawl through like he had before, Caulk simply stooped as low as he could go and, leading with his shoulder, barreled through it in his ire. The door was significantly larger after he went through it than before, and now sported a vaguely circular shape. A few workers outside the warehouse dropped everything they were doing, literally in some cases, and gaped at Caulk with wide eyes and slack jaws.

Ignoring the stares, Caulk followed Rainbow begrudgingly through the streets of Canterlot. Once they left the "industrial" district, or at least whatever the closest thing Canterlot had to it was, they found themselves in a narrow side street with a few small houses. Caulk could see ponies staring at him through the windows with expressions of pure shock.

Behind him, Caulk could hear some of the guards whispering to each other.

"Are we allowed to let this thing out?"

"I thought you knew!"

The streets that Rainbow Dash led Caulk through became increasingly wide, and the buildings were larger and closer together. Along the sides of the larger streets were various concession stands selling food or tourist-trap items. With the increased density of buildings came an increased population of ponies, each staring at him with expressions of fear or bewilderment, and they all made sure to give him a very wide berth.

It was through this that Caulk was able to get a good idea of what these ponies were like as a species and as a society. The first thing he noticed about them was the array of colors that each one bore on their coats, the colors coming from all over the color spectrum. From what he could tell, there were three different types of ponies: ones with a single horn on their heads, which he figured were actually called unicorns by the ponies themselves, given the striking similarities between this world and Terran mythology; ones with a small pair of wings, which he dubbed as pegasi Pegasuses? That doesn't sound right... for the same reason; and ones with neither, for which he could not come up with a name. Whether or not they were each different ethnicities or entirely different subspecies altogether, Caulk could not determine. Whichever, they all seemed to be seamlessly integrated.

Another thing Caulk noticed in regards to their physiology was that only the unicorns seemed capable of using "magic." He noticed on numerous occasions that their horns would be glowing a color that typically corresponded to that of their coats, and an object nearby would begin glowing the same color and start levitating and moving on seemingly its own accord. Of course, once they saw Caulk they immediately lost all concentration and dropped whatever they were "holding."

The pegasi were fascinating in their own right as well. Their wings, despite their diminutive size, were not vestigial. Caulk could see them being used just as effectively, if not more so, than those of birds. Their movements, whether on the ground or in the air, seemed to be far smoother and controlled than their land-locked counterparts. To Caulk's amazement, when he looked up at the sky he could see some of the pegasi actually standing on clouds.

The ones with neither horns nor wings did not possess much in the lines of world-bendingly fascinating abilities, but they were definitely far stronger than any of the others. He could see them pushing, pulling, or carrying on their backs loads that seemed obscenely uncharacteristic of creatures their size.

In regards to their society, they apparently had a capitalist economy if the number of booths and concession stands were anything to judge by. Judging by the grandeur of the buildings around him, Caulk figured that this must have been the capitol of this nation, which, judging by the names of some of the shops, was a popular tourist location.

Hm, maybe they aren't so primitive, after all.

There were a few things about the ponies that stuck out as odd to Caulk. First and foremost was their taste in paint. The colors they had painted their buildings were so bright and vibrant he almost turned up the polarization of his visor. The gender difference also seemed odd, as there were significantly more females than males. Another that stuck out was that each pony had a unique emblem on each side of their flanks. He noticed that each one reflected the profession that the pony had. Some were obvious, like a pony with an emblem of some kind of wrapped candy was selling candies, whereas some were more obscure, like one with three raindrops.

What Caulk found intriguing was how each of the three types of ponies manipulated smaller objects without the usage of hands. The unicorns had their magic, obviously, but the pegasi were capable of using the feathers on the edge of their wings just as dexterously as fingers. The ponies with neither horns nor wings seemed capable of using their tails with extraordinary dexterity, even more so than monkeys. They all seemed to possess the ability to skillfully use their mouths for manipulating writing and drawing utensils such as pencils, pens and paintbrushes.

Life finds a way. Wise words indeed, Mr Crichton, Caulk thought.

"Alright, you know what to do! All the way to the other corner!" Caulk heard Rainbow shout, interrupting his analyses.

Observing his surroundings, Caulk saw that he was standing at one corner of a massive square plaza. It was almost a hundred and fifty meters on each side and had a large, circular fountain in the middle. Branching off of it were streets that led to other parts of the city. True to Rainbow's word, the plaza was chock full of ponies and food stands. Caulk guessed that there had to be at least three thousand ponies in the crowd, and all were staring at him.

And this was how he was supposed to make a first impression?

"This is demeaning," Caulk said, addressing Rainbow. Apparently as a result of his ability to speak their language, Caulk could see some of the closer ponies' looks go from bewilderment to utter shock, and somewhere in the crowd one fainted.

"This was the deal, guy," Rainbow stated, tapping the ground with a hoof impatiently.

"I know, I know..." Sweet Mother Mercy... "Let's just get this over with."

Caulk pulled the Perdition Gauntlets up his arm and placed the backs of the suit's exo-gloves behind the small of his back, putting his arms in a chicken wing pose. He could see the crowds' expressions go from a "Holy shit an alien" type of shock to a "What the balls is it doing" type.

Swallowing his pride, he leaned forward slightly and started making as light of steps as he could, in a way that his motions would resemble that of a chicken. With each step he would vocalize a soft "Bok" sound, like a chicken, and every tenth step or so he would go "Ba-Kawk!" Around him, Caulk could see the ponies abandon their surprise for the most part and were now struggling, and in some cases failing, to contain their laughter. Rainbow Dash, who was hovering along next to him like a humming bird, was laughing herself almost to the point of tears.

Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, he thought bitterly. Just you wait until I get my old shotty and some bird shot, then we'll see who's laughing.

The walk to the opposite corner of the plaza was longer than he expected, but after a while Caulk had zoned out and time seemed to speed up. This wasn't until he came up with a good position for his hands, though. The position he was initially in was not simply uncomfortable, it actually hurt. He was snapped out of his mechanical motions when he found that he was about three meters from the edge of the pavement.

"Is this good? Can we please go back now?"

Rainbow Dash shook her head. "You still have to do the second half!"

"What second- oh... I hate you," Caulk said, remembering the entirety of their deal. Is there no way my life can go according to plan for once? he thought. Turning his suit's megaphone up to its maximum volume, he said loudly, "I would just like to let everyone know... that I *suck.*"

"And...?" Rainbow asked, her usually boisterous voice sounding insignificant in comparison to Caulk's megaphone.

"Bite my orange metal ass! That's all I agreed to say!"

"Alright, alright, we can go back now..." Rainbow said, clearly upset that she was not able to squeeze anything more from Caulk.

Rainbow, who was still hovering, led Caulk back through the crowd to go back to the warehouse. When they were passing by the fountain, Caulk saw a white flash out of the left corner of his eye. Turning to find the source of it, he saw a grinning male unicorn pony with a white coat and black mane and tail, and had a typewriter for an emblem. Caulk noticed that it was wearing a gray fedora with a hole cut for its horn, and was apparently using it to levitate a large camera that resembled one used in the early or mid-twentieth century, which was glowing a soft white.

A journalist, Caulk thought sourly. If there's one thing I hate as much as Mengsk, it's gotta be the media. Damn you, Donny Vermillion. I could do a better job of reporting than you. Good thing your replacement's hot as hell, else I'd never watch the news.

Caulk approached the pony swiftly, and before it could react, snatched the camera out of the air. Without stopping to examine it, he drove it into the ground as hard as he could, smashing it to pieces. He then stomped down as hard as he could on the highest concentration of pieces with his metal soled boots. To finish it off, he twisted the ball of his foot on the pile, pulverizing the camera to a fine powder like a mortar and pestle.

The pony, who was bearing an expression of shock and dismay, was staring at what little remained of its camera. Caulk leaned down so that his face was uncomfortably close to the pony's, who snapped its head up and looked Caulk in the eye.

"It's a common courtesy to ask before taking a picture of someone. I hope we learned something today."

The pony just nodded slowly. When Caulk turned to leave and follow Rainbow Dash, the pony did not move, look in Caulk's direction or even blink, despite the prodding of others.

Maybe I can salvage my reputation yet, he thought. At that moment, his attention was drawn to a small, flashing red light in the upper right-hand corner of his heads-up display.

Does a flashy red light ever mean anything good?

~~~

WHAM!

WHAM!

WHAM!

Just a few more minutes... Imorin groaned as she pulled the sheets of the tiny bed over her head to drown out the sound of the obscenely loud pounding on her door.

In a muffled voice, she heard Archer mutter, "Good gravy, she sleeps heavier than Caulk," before shouting,

"WAKE!"

WHAM!

"THE!"

WHAM!

"FUCK!"

WHAM!

"UP!"

WHAM!

"WE GOTTA GO!"

WHAM-WHAM-WHAM-WHAM-WHAM!

Yet Imorin remained in the bed, only now she was rubbing her temples to alleviate the headache that was forming behind her eyes. She sighed with relief when the incessant pounding stopped, but her respite was thrown out the window when she felt the blanket yanked off of her. Imorin was glad she was still wearing her armor, light as it was, so the cold did not reach her. Opening an eye, she saw Archer standing next to the bed in his red, massive suit of armor, the blanket thrown over his right shoulder and tapping his foot impatiently. Archer's gold-colored visor was retracted, exposing his face which she had not seen the day before. His skin was a light tan and he had a slightly narrower jaw than most Terran males. A pair of dark brown eyes glared at Imorin impatiently from under his brow.

All this was thrown to the back of Imorin's mind when she said, "From what I know of Terrans, it is considered socially improper for a man to do that to a woman, or anyone for that matter, regardless of whether or not they are clothed."

Archer's eyes narrowed as he said, "You know what else isn't considered socially proper?" Leaning forward slightly for emphasis, "Bein' late."

"Touche," Imorin said, using the common Terran phrase.

She crawled out of the bed and, careful not to hit her head on the low ceiling, exited the room. As she passed Archer, he threw the blanket back onto the bed in a heap and followed her out. Imorin started down the left hallway in the hopes it was the right way, but only made it two steps before Archer said, "Other way." Turning around, she saw Archer grinning dumbly and biting his lower lip.

Archer turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction. Not knowing how to get to where they were going, or even where they were going, Imorin decided to stay behind him the whole way. When they got to the first hallway intersection, Archer stopped in the middle and held out both hands, curling all of his fingers except for his thumb and index finger. Imorin could hear him mutter, "Let's see, left hand makes an 'L' so, that way."

How ironic, Imorin thought, struggling not to laugh. "It seems that I am not the only one who is 'directionally challenged', as you Terrans like to say."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

After going down the left corridor, they turned only once to the right, at which Imorin ribbed Archer, saying, "Which way to our destination, Stuart Archer?"

"Excuse me, did I make fun of you when you went the wrong way?" he retorted.

They passed by at least five more hallways until they arrived at a large steel door with a control panel on the wall to the right. Imorin recognized it as the door that led to the Terran base's hangar. Archer pressed a few buttons on the panel. As soon as he was done, the door split vertically down the middle and each half retracted into the wall. Imorin followed Archer into the hangar, none too thrilled as a result of the last time she had been in the massive room.

At the right side of the hangar was the remainder of Imorin's cohort, which she noticed became unusually quiet upon her entering. Despite their silence, Imorin could still feel a negative atmosphere centered around the cohort. On the left side was what she assumed to be the Colonel's Phi Squadron. Its numbers had been bolstered to about fifteen, but only with marines, leaving the remaining marauder looking rather out of place. In the furthest corner stood what Imorin assumed to be a Terran ghost warrior. The Terran was wearing a white, skin-tight body suit with a black chest piece and red shoulder pads. On it's helmet it had a large, green, glowing orb over one eye and four smaller ones over it's other. It was very tall, for a Terran, but had a very compact build. All were silent, and Imorin could feel hateful eyes burning into her from the group of Terrans.

In the middle of the hangar was the fully armored Colonel and Aldarix, both of which seemed to be ignoring each other. On the ground between them were two cylinders that were about as tall as the Colonel, and as big around as his armored leg. Imorin assumed that these were the devices that Archer intended to use to locate Caulk. Archer led Imorin to them and started fiddling with a small keypad on the side of one.

Imorin looked about the hangar. Not seeing any shuttles prepared, she said, "The transport is not yet ready I take it?"

"Mine is, though I can't say the same for you, I don't think," the Colonel said with his arms crossed. "We don't have much opportunity for some good exercise on this god-forsaken ball of ice so we'll take whatever we can get."

"I am not quite sure I understand."

"We're walking there. If you want to get your own dropships, be my guest. Would be better for us, those zealots of yours haven't said a damn thing today. It's starting to bother me a bit, and the only reason my troops aren't fighting them is because I'm standing in their way."

Imorin was filled with a sudden sense of foreboding. It was only a matter of time until the two sides turned on each other, so it would be best if they were kept apart as much as possible. She pressed a small button on her left gauntlet that would summon her shuttle. "That may be best. My cohort has not said anything to me either."

"Maybe I'm missing something here. Wouldn't I have heard them say anything if they just now said something to you?"

"Only if they were speaking at you. We Protoss communicate in Khalani. You Terrans would better understand it as telepathy."

"Right..." the Colonel said dismissively. "Are those things ready yet, Lieutenant?"

With a groan of exasperation, Archer replied, "Ready as they'll ever be. I swear, nothing works in this place."

The Colonel chuckled at that. "I take it you've never actually been in an all out war. You've only been in the service for... what, a year now? If even that? When we were fighting the Zerg on Char four years ago we had to deal with this same problem all the time."

"Right... sir. Yeah, I think we're ready to go," Archer said, tucking both cylinders under his arms.

Nodding, the Colonel turned to face the innermost wall and shouted, "Open 'er up!"

Imorin looked back and noticed a window with three or four Terrans on the other side that overlooked the hangar. She heard a deep rumble and saw the--admittedly impressive--hangar door open. The harsh glare from the snow momentarily blinded Imorin as she waited for her eyes to adjust.

Khyrador's sky was a stark white, and it was snowing lightly. The snow outside the hangar was compacted to a density similar to concrete by a relentless pounding of wheels, treads and the feet of large mechanical striders. The tracks of all of these could still be seen, both new and old. Hovering in front of the now open hangar was the small, yellow, crescent shaped shuttle that Imorin had summoned.

The Terrans stood up and marched out of the hangar, their metal boots clacking against the concrete floor. They made sure to keep their distance from the shuttle, and wound up walking in a single file line along the left side of the hangar to avoid it. Imorin, Aldarix and the zealots wordlessly entered the shuttle, and a soft droning sound filled the interior of the vessel as it lifted off and sped through the air.

Within minutes, the shuttle arrived at the entrance to the subterranean Xel'naga complex. The shuttle dropped them off, and quickly sped away to a safe location where it could still easily reach them. Imorin looked down the canyon. It would take the Terrans quite some time to arrive at their destination, so she decided to sit down on a rock and wait patiently. After a time, Aldarix broke the silence.

"Executor, why are we still here?" Aldarix's deep mental voice rumbled. "We know now what the cause of this Terran's disappearance is, so why continue aiding them? It is perilous for us to remain here for much longer, for I feel that it is only the strained tolerance of their leader that is keeping us from battling them again on this world."

Imorin thought for a moment. "True, but now I must admit that my curiosity has been piqued by this discovery. I have never heard of there being such a collection of Xel'naga warp gates elsewhere in the galaxy."

"I identify with this reasoning, but there is no reason as to why we cannot do this on our own, rather than with the Terrans."

"Indeed we could, but sooner or later we would confront them, possibly with a far larger force on our part. As much as we are on 'thin ice' now, such a situation would leave us with no ice to stand on. It would be best to begin things on a small scale, where we may have a hope of finding a peaceful solution than frightening them into starting a major skirmish when they see one of our carriers."

Aldarix was silent for a moment, then said, "Very well, Executor. I pray that we may avoid conflict, but I feel it is inevitable."

There it was again. That same foreboding feeling Imorin had felt in the Terrans' hangar. It truly was only a matter of time.

Looking behind her to where the remaining six zealots were standing in a circle, Imorin asked, "Have they said anything to you at all?"

"No, they have not."

At that moment the Terran cohort arrived at Imorin and her troops. The Colonel stomped up to Imorin, his hands clenched tightly around the grips of his rifle.

"What're you waiting around here for?" he said angrily.

"We were waiting for you to arrive before entering," Imorin said. She had thought it would be the courteous thing to do.

With a low growl, the Colonel snarled, "If you went down there, we could have been part way done with this by now!" Without waiting for a confounded Imorin to respond, he had already began down the tunnel, with his cohort in suit. The ghost was the last in line, and slowed down slightly when it passed Imorin, staring at her with cold, calculating eyes before continuing down. Imorin and Aldarix shared a confused look before following the Terrans.

Upon entering the colossal chamber, Imorin and Aldarix approached the Colonel and Archer, who were busy discussing their plan for finding Caulk. Hoping to avoid angering the Colonel further, Imorin immediately ordered Aldarix to restart his psionic search. Shortly thereafter he was hovering in the air, shrouded by the blue aura near the opposite wall.

"And you're sure these things will work?" the Colonel said, clearly unconvinced with Archer's earlier diagnosis.

With a sigh, Archer replied, "It's impossible to tell with this stuff, sir, given all the shit it goes through out here and its condition. These aren't the 'best' ones I could find, they're just the least crappy." Then, after a pause, "Sir, how do we know Caulk's still alive? I mean that gate could be a portal to a room filled with plasma for all we know."

"I'll stick one half of a piece of paper in it. If it comes back on fire, we've got a problem. If not, then your suit should be able to withstand whatever's out there." The Colonel turned to Imorin. "Good to see I don't need to hold your hand through this. Look, once we get through that warp gate or whatever it's called, you're on your own. As long as you keep your distance from my men, I don't- SHIT!" the Colonel shouted as Imorin heard the Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat that was trademarked by the Terran's weapons.

Imorin whirled around and beheld a scene she had hoped not to see. The marines and zealots had engaged in a fierce, close quarters battle between the Terran cohort and the zealots. The remaining marauder had been sliced into several pieces, as well as a number of other marines, leaving only seven standing. Three of the marines were fighting with their weapons' bayonets against the zealots' superior psi blades. Still, they managed to hold them off long enough for the marines in back to have targets to shoot at, though the three marines in front were quickly slashed apart.

The zealots fared no better. Even as she watched, Imorin saw zealot after zealot disappear into blue vapor, their armor warping them back to the fleet before they could sustain further bodily injury. By the end, it was down to a single marine and a single zealot. The marine was attempting to stab the zealot in the neck with his bayonet, but his opponent was applying barely enough force to the marine's arms to keep it from decapitating him. After a few seconds of relative stillness, the zealot pushed the marine back enough to throw him off balance, and quickly sliced the marine in half along his midsection.

The zealot looked towards the Colonel and immediately charged at him, psi blades raised. The Colonel reached down to his thigh with his unused hand and procured a massive sidearm. With practiced ease, he fired three shots into the zealot's chest, completely ignoring its already shattered plasma shields and leaving a trio of gaping holes. The zealot promptly vanished in blue smoke, though Imorin feared his survival was doubtful.

... procured a massive sidearm.

Without even pausing, the Colonel pointed both his rifle and sidearm at Imorin, who knew her shields would not withstand weapons of that magnitude.

"DID YOU PLAN THIS!?" the Colonel roared. "DAMN NEAR MY ENTIRE PLATOON IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU! NOW YOU GET THE HELL OFF OUR TURF OR I BLOW YOUR BRAINS ALL OVER THE WALL!"

Imorin truly feared for her life at this point. Without hesitation, she managed to gain Aldarix's attention. "Aldarix, we have overstayed our welcome. We. Are. Leaving."

Aldarix took a moment to examine what had unfolded while he was in his trance. Without even an affirmative, he quickly followed Imorin out of the chamber, and back through the tunnel.

~

What a fucking disaster, the Colonel thought. I knew, just knew something like this was going to happen. Damn Protoss.

"Lieutenant, status report."

"Nothing much to report, sir. The Protoss turned on us and killed the rest of our squad. But..." Archie trailed off, something clearly perturbing him.

"But what, Lieutenant?"

"Buncha dead bodies and a lot of blood, sir, but Davis isn't here."