Green Sun: Anthologyby WikiaChaptersThe Best of the WorstWelcome to the Green ZoneIn The Name of KaneKane Lives in DeathPrivateersRotors EngagedBreachHistoryInfiltrationThe Best of the WorstThe Best of the Worst A light blue stallion stared up at the sky with a mixture of boredom and longing. Sure, everything was tinted tiberium green but the sky was still the sky, even in a flight suit, and he would have given anything to be up in the air again. With a sigh, he shook his head, looked at the picture of his family fastened to his rifle, and focused on his HUD again. Sky Sentry had picked up this insurgent group working out of a decommissioned base from the war and it was up to Sergeant Swift Mist and his fireteam and to keep the runners from getting away while the rest of the company smothered this thing before it became a problem for the Baltimare Blue Zone. The fact that a GDI Security Platoon was present with his team didn’t count for much in his eyes, and he focused on the task at hand. “You’d think they’d give us gear with climate control that actually works…” one of his team, a lithe pegasus griped, “Think I can nab a spare breather off these Zoners without’em noticing?” “You know the rules, Bouncer, ‘nabbing’ gets you a strike. Asking politely gets you laughed at.” Mist told her, “Besides, they have to save all the new stuff for the Troopers and tankers or else we’ll go soft like those weekend warriors.” “Yeah yeah… still…” she started before her helmeted sergeant turned his head slightly and she backed down. “Anything on the rebels down there, sarge?” another of his team asked. This one was a griffon by the name of Apollo who happened to be the team’s designated marksman, but was for the time being, propped up against a rock with his rifle in his lap. His casual demeanor born of the fact that this was the 8th insurgent encampment his team had been part of a raid on this week alone and none of them had managed to so much as scuff the griffon’s armor so far. “Cap thinks it’s a shiner enclave, but 3rd Platoon saw scorpion tails on some of the gear.” Swift told him, causing the rest of the team to pause slightly. “But this is a defunct GDI facility, why would they hole up with heretic equipment?” Bouncer chimed in, only for her inquiry to get drowned out by gunfire and their comm systems to start blaring out orders. Like clockwork, Swift’s fireteam got to their positions, weapons at the ready and already trained on the choke point they had created. In contrast, their counterparts in the Security Platoon were less organized and weren’t fully in position when the first insurgent burst through the rear gate of the abandoned base. Swift Mist’s team did their work quickly, efficiently, and without remorse as pony after pony ran right into their sights and were swiftly put down. By the time the engagement came to a close, around 20 Nod insurgents were dead either by the hoof of the assault teams out front, Mist’s ambush, or through zealous suicide in the face of the GDI oppressors. Thankfully, none of his team knew any of the dead Noddies. “So much wasted blood…” Swift thought as he looked down at the earth ponies in their haphazard Brotherhood regalia, some of it was older than the gear he was using, which was saying something considering that much of the GDI Expeditionary Legion’s gear was originally issued during the last months of the Tiberium War nearly 8 years ago. With a sigh, he looked back at his family’s photo, back to the sky, then got his team heading back to the Timberwolf that brought them out here, and for the third time that day, the pegasus known as Swift Mist wished he still had both his wings. “Still beats walking…” he finally let out as the APC started lumbering off towards their forward operating base a few clicks to the south. GDIEL weren’t allowed inside the Blue Zones except when on leave or when visiting their families before their term of service was up, so their encampment was still in the yellow zone that many of them had called home during and after the war. “And finally some damn AC.” Bouncer let out, “Didn’t want their soft, Blue Zone hides to get all sweaty before coming after us even back then, eh?” “For a Red Zone refugee you sure bitch about air conditioning a lot.” Mist quipped. “Only during summer, sarge, and even you have to admit that it’s a scorcher this year.” Mist took his helmet off specifically to raise an unimpressed eyebrow at her before letting what amounted to fresh air work over his mane and into his suit. His armor had been cutting edge a decade ago, now the damn thing couldn’t even get good circulation to his remaining wing without his seals being open. He would never complain though, the gear he had when he was fighting for Nod was shabby even back then, and while not as new and advanced as what they gave to GDI’s regular troops, it was more than enough to keep him alive for another 3 years no matter how hard the sun or Nod’s remnant tried. The rest of the trip was uneventful as the aged APCs and their Predator escort made their way back to “Fortress Exile”, the FOB that Swift Mist and the rest of the company he was attached to called home. Physical and magical barriers were lifted or moved aside to let the convoy in, and without ceremony, the companies that took part in the raid made their way to their respective barracks. Apollo and Bouncer were first through the decontamination airlocks, and were both out of their gear by the time Swift made it through. The green pegasus and grey griffon both looked at their sergeant who simply waved dismissively at them after tossing his helmet onto his bunk. They nodded, smiled, and made their way towards the mess hall airlock. With his team now officially dismissed for the evening he took his time getting out of, cleaning, and storing his gear properly, with his rifle saved for last. The photo of his family was gingerly moved to his pillow and he looked at his wife and son one more time before he began cleaning. They were safely inside the Canterlot Blue Zone of all places, his wife was working at tiberium research facility, his son going to a nice elementary school named after some dead war hero, and all the while he was sitting out here in a yellow zone for the next three years. For another three years he would do the jobs the GDI regular army couldn’t handle, and things that the Zone Troopers or Commandos didn’t have time for. It would be rough, slogging through it with outdated equipment, a constantly rotating roster of new arrivals and fresh departures, and all while living in an environment that most ponies would consider inhospitable. And yet the thought of this made him smile as he continued diligently cleaning his weapon. Life under Nod had been nothing but broken promises of a better life, of a life without the unicorn primacy and classism of the past. Nod was gone, and it had cost him a wing, an eye, and half of one of his legs, and all he had to show for it was a ramshackle home for him and his pregnant wife. No veterans benefits were coming from the now defunct and decimated Brotherhood, and as far as he knew at the time, they were on their own. All that changed the moment a GDI officer entered their dilapidated village and gave him the opportunity of a lifetime. 10 years of service in the Expeditionary Legion, or a medical discharge due to combat-related injuries, and he would be a full citizen of GDI. His wife and infant son however, would be granted citizenship and a place in a Blue Zone immediately. His wages were his own to keep or send home, and the fact that he had been a Confessor did nothing to deter the officer who had recruited him. In fact, it was the reason he still had three stripes on his uniform instead of one, or Luna forbid, none. No one was in a hurry to bump former Nod NCOs and officers down to Private and add insult to the injury of being on the losing side of a world-spanning war. His thoughts were interrupted as the comm device underneath his pillow began vibrating. Quickly he put his rifle aside just long enough to grab it, tap the button to accept the call, and then prop it up next to his family photo. Looking back at him was the very same colt and mare who were standing next to him in the photo. “Busy week?” his wife asked with a smile. Swift Mist returned the smile and gave a sly wink to his son before looking his rifle over once more. “Pretty routine, actually. So, how did school go?” Author's Note So it begins; no posting schedule, "chapters" will be added as they're written. Let's see how far we can take this! Welcome to the Green ZoneWelcome to the Green Zone Amber Blossom trotted along a busy street lined with stalls and their owners peddling various goods. Everything from the mundane fruits to contraband, wartime gear and weapons were available at the Dodge Bazaar, though today she was looking for something specific. Despite the wide range of knicks, knacks, and everything in between for sale, the one thing she was looking for seemed to still be in limited supply. For nearly two hours the off-yellow mare searched and searched and searched, but it wasn’t until the green orb in the sky began to crest the walls of the nearby Dodge Junction Blue Zone that she finally stumbled across the stall she had been looking for. “How much for the sonic grooming kit, Gizmo?” she asked the somewhat pudgy diamond dog running the stall. “30 bits, or a fair trade.” he told her, pulling the aforementioned box off the shelf and placing it on the counter between them. “I do still kinda owe you for getting me that crate of batteries last year.” “Aw it was nothing, sugar. I have to help my favorite diamond dog, y’know?” Amber replied with a smile that made the sun glint pleasantly off the tiberium shards that lined her lower jaw. Gizmo smirked back at her and idly scratched similar shards that sprouted from his shoulder before pointing at her in a mockingly accusatory manner. “I also happen to be the only diamond dog you know.” “Doesn’t change a thing. How about 20 bits and this solar charge pack?” Amber asked, only to get widened eyes from the merchant standing before her. “Hell I’d give it to you for the solar pack alone, but don’t you need it? I thought your...” “Not at all, the grid in my neighborhood finally got full solar proofing a couple days ago, so I need a way to maintain my ‘jewelry’ more than I need something to keep my appliances running.” Amber told him. “So, pack for the kit?” “Deal.” Gizmo said, pushing the kit towards her and eagerly accepting the solar charge pack into his hands once her magical aura released it, “I don’t know whether to sell this or keep it for personal use. Guess I owe you another one, don’t I?” “Hey, this was a fair trade, don’t fret, got it?” the unicorn told him, getting a genuine smile in return as he nodded and slowly began to pack up his stall for the day. With her new prized possession finally sitting nicely in her saddlebags, Amber Blossom began the short trek to the apartment complex she called home. Pre-war streets and sidewalks were still mostly maintained despite being outside of the Blue Zone, not that she could confirm what it was like in one having never set foot in a modern Blue Zone in her life. She had been infected before the war and spent the entirety of the fighting locked up in some ZOCOM containment facility with other mutants. It wasn’t until Celestia was dead that she was able to live what amounted to a normal life for tib-infested ponies. That “normal” life was spent in the Canterlot-Dodge Junction Green Zone, the largest of its kind. Unlike Blue Zones, the Green Zones had no true walls, but were merely stretches of land between the Blue Zones that were fully protected, patrolled, and maintained by GDI, though that last one was debatable depending on the month. The war had only been over a year and recovery was slow. Not that Amber could complain, Green Zones were far better than the harsh, unforgiving lives that ponies and other misplaced races had to eke out in the yellow zones, and an apartment was a far cry from a shanty town. Blossom sighed as she continued to trot along the sidewalk towards her home, the breeze felt nice and while non-mutants needed either protective gear or good sunblock to be exposed to unfiltered sunlight, to mutants the rays of the sun were still a warm, welcoming, and even invigorating embrace. By the time she made it to her door, the sun had finally slipped behind the horizon and the moon was now making its way through the night sky. Magic enveloped the key to her apartment and she was welcomed into her home by a flier for some support group or activist organization that had been slipped under her door by somepony or other mixed in with her mail. Her aura grabbed the pile of papers and envelopes and she began rifling through them, with most of the pile ending up in her trash can as she impatiently found her way to her bathroom and started running a bath. The water was the familiar off-blue color that showed her that the filters and decontaminants were working as needed to keep her infestation from infecting the rest of the town’s water supply, and she eased herself into the water with a happy groan. After a few moments of soaking, she used her magic to unbox the grooming kit she had gotten and after giving the instructions a quick once-over, let out an elated squeak as she managed to painlessly shave down one of her tiberium shards so it wouldn’t poke her in the neck every time she looked down. Small victories in the Green Zones were still victories all the same, and for a pony who had formerly been stuck in a prison in all but name, Amber Blossom considered her life out here between the Zones absolutely charmed in comparison as she hummed her way through her bath and soon after, into a good night’s rest. In The Name of KaneIn the Name of Kane The sound of bullets whizzing by was usually a distressing sound for a soldier, but for Colonel Starlight Glimmer, the sound brought nothing but amusement. GDI had already killed her once, they would not do so again, especially not with simple probing fire like this. With a pep in her step that was uncharacteristic for an officer who had spent the last two weeks living in trenches and tents on one side of a two-way artillery duel she continued on her way. Today was no different from all the other days that she had been here on the line, GDI probing fire ranging from Kodiak shells to machine gun fire impacted the shield and occasionally a stray round would find its way through and hit the barricades that Nod’s engineers had managed to get built, not that it really mattered on the part of the line that Spike had given to the Marked of Kane. “So boring… but necessary.” she mused silently as a particularly colorful artillery spell impacted the barrier and created a lovely light show, “No sense revealing ourselves to GDI before the time is right.” As if summoned by her thoughts, her EVA sprang to life, a certain drake was calling another meeting, and if he was pulling in unit commanders, then something had most definitely changed on the line. With a sigh and a shrug she sent an affirmative reply as well as her ETA back to Slavik’s network, followed by bringing up a map of the trenches that scrolled across her integrated visor. Her inspection of her unit’s forward positions would have to wait, not that she expected much to have changed since the day before. Her trip took her first back through a checkpoint she had just passed through, getting an amused look from one sentry and a confused look from the other. The one without the incredulous look on his face had obviously been here longer than his inquisitive partner, and he waved Colonel Glimmer through once she flashed her ID. Spike wasn’t known for micromanaging, but his timing was infamous among his subordinate officers, with an accidental habit of calling them into meetings or emergency briefings the moment they were about to commit to their own duties. “Back in 30, ma’am?” the other guard asked, half genuine, half teasing with his tone. “Honestly I’m just going to pin my ID to my armor if he keeps this up.” she quipped, getting a chuckle out of the two guards before continuing on her way. The fastest route back to Rarity’s field bunker first took her through a medical outpost, little more than a camouflaged tent lined by sandbags inside with a handful of triage stations inside that were thankfully empty today. The line had been static for well over a week at this point, and the field medics currently on duty in the tent were lounging about with a deck of cards before giving a respectful nod. Saluting wasn’t allowed on front-line assignments, but not due to the actions of GDI. Nod snipers had made it a habit of hitting GDI officers whenever they could identify them, and the entire Brotherhood had adopted the protective habit as a precaution just in case the eagle decided to return the favor. She returned the nod to the two medics before ushering herself out and back into the covered trench system, calmly looking over to her left as what she assumed to be an artillery round managed to pierce the magical shielding and impacted the ground relatively nearby. The detonation threw up dirt and debris, but Starlight’s onboard sensors didn’t pick up any organic matter, at least nothing flesh and blood. A bush however, was completely annihilated and she couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the fact that all of GDI’s might and luck in getting a shell through didn’t even hit one of their trenches, but instead impacted between them. Before continuing on she felt something brush her hoof and noticed a limb from that particularly resilient bush had landed in the pathway in front of her. With a smile she gingerly moved it out with her magic and feigned a morose tone. “Truly you were the greatest martyr of the Brotherhood, Sister Shrub.” she lamented before once again continuing on her way through the winding trench system, pausing only when her path took her into one of the forward mess halls. Unlike the triage tent, this structure was more than just fabric and sand, built to be used as a fallback position in case GDI grew a spine and hit their position instead of the other way around. Inside, Starlight saw the dream that she had for pre-war Equestria realized, as soldiers of every conceivable species were milling about, grabbing their meals, taking down time to look over letters, and other such comforts that were available to them. While not an ideal way to bring all the races of the continent together, it did fill her with hope every time she saw just how united the Brotherhood was against GDI’s injustice. Griffons, ponies, diamond dogs, even a pair of dragons were eating and relaxing, or at least the closest thing to relaxing as one could in a trench, together in harmony that GDI preached but only the Brotherhood truly acted on. Those that noticed her gave friendly nods and smiles that she returned as she combed her way through the busy hub, deftly making her way through the mess until finally she was back out in the open air and only one junction away from her destination. And then the ground exploded again. Unlike the previous detonation that had so savagely shredded a shrubbery, the shower of dirt that Starlight Glimmer was treated to was rather tame this time, barely registering as impacting her armor but enough to get a surprised ‘eep’ out of her as dirt hit her flank. Her surprise gave way to curiosity and the smoking hole only a yard away right outside of the trench caught her attention. More specifically, the unexploded shell sitting in the center of this newly created crater. “EVA, lock the mess behind me and call in EOD with that shell’s location.” she finally said after a few seconds of staring at the defunct ordinance. Once her EVA had confirmed that her orders were received and that a disposal team was on the way, she finally continued on and without further incident, made her way into the bunker that Slavik had summoned her to. “Colonel Glimmer, nice of you to join us.” Spike said once she entered the room. “Took the scenic route, General, just uh, be sure not to go out the door behind me until the EOD team gets rid of the unexploded artillery shell that nearly killed me.” Starlight replied, getting a smirk from the drake that she had befriended what felt like so very long ago. “Duly noted, though I doubt we’ll have to worry too much about that for much longer. Kane’s orders have just come down the chain… it’s time.” Author's Note Literally everyone was asking for more Nod and while I just don't have the ability to make a multi-chapter, single narrative story about the Brotherhood, I sure as hell can drabble the hell outta them. Kane Lives in DeathKane Lives in Death He had never been the most imposing of griffons, and his armor always felt a bit comical on his relatively light frame. The pawprints of the Black Hand however, always felt right etched on his pauldrons, and in the medallion that he wore around his neck. During the war he had been a simple tanker, blessed with helping fight in Baltimare inside a flame tank, and he had even been one of the few to survive the Battle of Temple Prime and escape GDI custody even as Kane's successor, Twilight, fled all those years ago. His dark feathers matched the onyx coloration of his armor, still as protective as it was during the war when it was first issued to him, fresh out of the tiberium-fueled forges of the Brotherhood of Nod. His laser rifle was now more of a decorative piece on the wall behind his desk, but his trusty laser pistol was always at his side. His eyes were a similar coloration as his plumage, and burned with a passion that had endeared him to his former commanding officer, the traitor Hyperion. The griffon’s skin crawled at the mere thought of that traitor, and how much he sacrificed to gain his favor only for that damnable earth pony to turn his back on the Brotherhood, but that was neither here nor there, Brother Marcion had more important things to attend to. “The delegation for Saddle Arabia is waiting, sir.” his EVA chimed. “Very well, inform them that I am on my way.” Marcion replied, his scowl turning to a smile. His former CO may have been a traitor but the lessons imparted on the newly ascended leader of the Black Hand still held true. Using his mentor’s own tactics to frustrate GDI’s unification efforts away from what used to be Equestria was more than enough to put him in a good mood. Saddle Arabia was always contested ground during the war, even with Hyperion orchestrating the fall of its government and leading to the civil war that plagued it well past the fall of Temple Prime. Even when the lasers and bullets flew between Celestial loyalists and Nod rebels, the entire country and its once-priceless fuel reserves tended to fly both flags at the same time. Today that was going to change, at least unofficially, as GDI’s efforts on the continent had been hounded by Marcion ever since he slew the heretical dragon that had taken Sister Pinkie Pie’s place as head of the Hand. The Saddle Arabian royal family, or at least what was left of it after a decade of fighting, would finally be throwing their full support behind the Brotherhood. The fact that a significant portion of the bloodshed was caused by Nod troops using old GDI gear to “accidentally” cause collateral damage was something for Marcion alone to know. Marcion continued his brisk pace to the conference room of his underground stronghold, and while it was not nearly as secure as Temple Prime, it was surely more opulent than that research outpost turned holy site. Black Hand banners lined the hallways of any public passage that foreign diplomats or prisoners would see during transit, and the low, red lighting made the surplus of guards look all the more menacing even in their ceremonial uniforms. This aesthetic mixed with the reforms in armor design and even to Black Hand doctrine were all part of Marcion’s attempt to paint Kane’s most devout followers in a much more positive light. The fracture caused by Chrysalis and the devastation of the Black Hand at Temple Prime had, at least in the eyes of the survivors, tarnished the reputation of the Brotherhood at large, but none suffered a hit harder than Pinkie Pie’s disciples. Where once there was a force that made GDI infantry cower just at the sound of their name, they were now seen merely as a different, more dogmatic sect of Nod with fancier uniforms than the militia. “This changes today.” Marcion thought as he finally made his way into the room and gave a graceful bow to the two delegates waiting for him. He recognized the pink mare, Amira, despite how the rough years had aged her. She had once been part of a Saddle Arabian overture to the griffons before the war, back when he was a simple palace guard. The second mare with the blue coat and significantly younger, was new to him, but based on their body language, she was more of an aide rather than an ambassador. Both looked somewhat uncomfortable sitting in the large room with only guards for company, though that was the intention. The entire conference room was made to hold two dozen delegates, their aides, and all necessary security personnel needed to protect them, on top of a massive screen for showing documents or allowing communication with those unable to travel to Marcion’s stronghold. “My apologies for keeping you both waiting.” Marcion stated with a practiced, diplomatic tone as he took a seat, “I trust the trip here was suitably peaceful.” “Suitable, yes.” Amira mused, “Though with respect to yourself and your storied organization, I believe that time has made niceties a luxury neither of us can afford.” “Of course, we shall get down to negotiations at once. Your support of the Black Hand will be invaluab-” “Of the Brotherhood, not just the Black Hand. Your superior made it crystal clear that we would be supporting the entirety of the Brotherhood of Nod, not just the Black Hand.” Marcion paused for a moment, confusion clear on his face for a moment before he regained his composure. “My.. superior.” he said, as if the words being said aloud would make it more clear, “I’m afraid I do not understand, madam ambassador. The Brotherhood fractured with the death of Kane, and Princess Twilight has not been heard of for nearly a decade.” “I expected GDI would be quick to bury me, but I expected more of the Black Hand.” a stallion’s voice cut in through the conference room’s audio system. Marcion froze, skin prickling as the tell-tale hum of the view screen slowly coming online. He knew that voice, but it had always been synthesized or a recording, or some hack in GDI pretending to be Him. The screen finally fully came to life, and Marcion’s blood froze at the sight of a bald earth pony stallion standing between two alicorns. One was clearly Princess Twilight in her signature black lab gear, the regalia of royalty left behind years ago, but the other was… different. She was younger with a light pink coat, but he could see tiberium crystal etching all around her coat from her horn to her hooves. Her cutie mark, obviously a whole depiction of what used to be the Crystal Heart, was tiberium green, matching her eyes. Despite the presence of two goddesses, it was the stallion that kept his attention the most. He had seen the ion strike that hit Temple Prime, his vision was blurry for days afterwards, and the image of the attack had been permanently etched into the griffon’s mind. What he was seeing was impossible. “Nothing to say, Brother Marcion?” “You… I…” he sputtered as the Saddle Arabian delegates both glowed green, revealing themselves to be changelings clad in Brotherhood uniforms. Each one with the emblem of the Marked of Kane etched onto the shoulders, and their clearly cybernetic eyes stared down the armored griffon as he prostrated himself before the Messiah. “I have been loyal, I swear it. The rest of the Brotherhood was scattered, I salvaged what I could, continued the work, never besmirched your na-” “Yes, I know, my son, I know.” Kane interjected calmly, “And it is for that reason that it is time for you to return to the fold. Rise. The Black Hand is needed once more, my brother, and there is much work to be done.” PrivateersPrivateers Lightning lit up the sky over the Celestial Sea, storm rains pelting the surf that was churning underneath the severe winds. In the middle of this storm, a single ship fought against the waves. Before the war, his sailing ship was top-of-the-line, fastest wooden vessel on the water, and one of the best armed pirating vessels that plagued the seas. Then Tiberium made landfall, and Equestria underwent a military expansion the likes no one had seen since the days of Commander Hurricane, and suddenly ships of steel that had once been a rare sight were ruling the waves near GDI coastlines. Life on the sea had always been a bit harsh for pirates given how many of the world’s governments wanted them all dead or arrested, and the sudden influx of organized navies didn’t make it any easier.. Although they were widely considered a soon to be extinct way of life before the war began, the world-spanning Tiberium War had completely changed the fortunes of Harrier Ironwing and his entire crew. Working on the sea against the GDI Navy was out of the question, but working with them was an offer that nearly surprised the feathers off the salty old pirate. Receiving his Letter of Marque was both a proud and controversial day not just for Harrier, but for the dozens of pirate crews that GDI had contracted. For him, it was a question of loyalty; his home nation had aligned with Nod, but his home nation had also disowned him a dozen times over before the war had started, and now he not only had free reign to target any vessel flying Nod colors, but to keep any ship he could tackle. GDI had originally thought nothing of this, given the Brotherhood’s navy was mostly focused around overwhelming numbers of smaller, faster ships rather than the floating fortresses of their eagle-clad rivals. They had thought that the most he’d be able to do would be to harass Nod’s merchant navy, maybe help disrupt supply lines overseas to the battlefields that GDI wasn’t able to fully commit to. They thought that he’d be lucky to get away unscathed if he ran across a purpose built Nod warship. It wasn’t until Ironwing managed to capture a corvette in the closing weeks of the war that GDI truly realized what they had unleashed on the water. Harrier smiled as water from a particularly tall wave splashed over the bow of the Stormcutter, originally the Pinkie Pie, a Nod missile corvette. He had been happy with the upgrade, and ever since he managed to capture this capable vessel, he relished the chances to test her against the worst tempests he could find given the surprising lack of targets on the ocean this time of year. With more than enough room for Ironwing’s 50-griffon crew, and enough firepower to challenge anything short of a cruiser thanks to the full stock of ordinance left on board, the Stormcutter was all Ironwing could have asked for and more. The real prize though, was the cloaking device that she came with, something that Ironwing wouldn’t have been able to even guess at its operation if half the ship’s original crew hadn’t agreed to sign on with the famous griffon. A hundred pirates strong, with enough fuel in the bunkers to last a year without Nod prey, and more than enough missiles sitting in their tubes to outgun anything they couldn’t outrun. All he needed now was a Brotherhood ship, though they were getting increasingly hard to find given how the war had ended a mere six months ago. “Captain, radar is showing a contact….” one of his crew stated over the gale outside of the bridge, a pony that had jumped ship rather than get tossed off of it. “Colors?” Ironwing asked, looking back at his ‘radar officer’, a position he still wasn’t used to having under his command. After a few moments of peering at the displays around his station, the unicorn gave a feral grin back to his commander. “Brotherhood, logistics, posing as a GDI merchmantmare, but we have her transponder in our library.” “Action stations!” Ironwing bellowed, and all throughout the ship klaxons blared. Pirates from every walk of life, including a particularly well-off unicorn mare that Ironwing was sure used to be married to some Canterlot bigwig with a blue mustache, all sprung into action and found their battle stations throughout the vessel. Even as waves crashed across her bow and wind tore at her superstructure, the only thing that gave anyone on his ship pause was the occasional strike of lightning on the water as they approached their lumbering target. “Hit the cloak.” Ironwing ordered with a smile, his red plumage seeming to come to life at the prospect of another hunt, his black eyes shining like he was fresh out of the nest all over again. “Cloaking.” another griffon answered. With the tell-tale shimmering of Nod stealth tech, the Stormcutter disappeared from view, with only the lightning causing her invisibility shield to glitch. “Give warning and announce us; time to go to work, everyone!” Ironwing commanded jovially, his boisterous tone being matched by a hearty, predatory laugh as the merchantmare tried to turn and run. To the Nod vessel they were chasing, it looked like a ghost ship was hunting them. To the GDI navy, this well-armed privateer was a small price to pay to keep Nod’s dwindling sea power under control. To Harrier Irongwing, it was just another day of enjoying the best job he ever had. Rotors EngagedRotors Engaged The eastern coast of Equestria had seen significant fleet action during the war, and not just the Rescue of the 10,000. Nod’s navy had made themselves at home across the sea, and after the death of Kane, what was left of it had either disbanded or turned to piracy. To top it all off, the entire coast was still a hazard zone with how many hulks had washed up over the years, and with many of the Brotherhood’s capital ships using either nuclear reactors or tiberium power generation as opposed to GDI’s magical spark reactors. This made each new hull that resurfaced ZOCOM’s job to fix. All of this and more, Comet Tail was happy to not have to deal with. The western coast of Equestria didn’t see any heavy action by comparison, and pirates rarely ventured to this side of the continent. Of course, these facts weren’t really at the forefront of the unicorn’s mind. What worried him was the fact that he was 100 meters above a churning ocean in a Hammerhead, barely keeping his dinner down as wind gusts of 50 kph tore at the helicopter. The last thing the yellow stallion wanted to do was throw up in his helmet mid-mission, and scrubbing vomit out of the troop bay was not what he wanted to do once getting back to base. Across the bay, his partner seemed to be struggling in the same manner as he could see her grimacing. Amethyst Star had a habit of leaving her breather hanging around her neck even when her visor was down, a habit he had talked with her about at least a dozen times and had been shrugged off each time. “Our job is easier when ponies can see a smiling face.” she had said the first time he mentioned how dangerous it could be, something he rolled his eyes at every time she repeated herself. “Not gonna puke on me, are you?” he finally shouted over the storm. “If dinner’s going the wrong way I’ll do it out the back, Comet!” Amethyst replied, her grimace turning into a smile momentarily before another wind gust rocked the pair. Comet was about to return a quip of his own when the red lights in the troop bay began flashing green. “Show time!” the co-pilot’s voice chimed in over their helmet speakers, “Positive ID on the yacht, heat sigs showing survivors.” “Physical or magical extraction?” Amethyst asked. “Wind’s too strong, stick to physical.” “Copy.” Comet acknowledged before looking back at Amethyst, “Gear check!” As the two unicorns felt the Hammerhead descend rapidly as they double-checked their rigs, as well as the winch in the center of the bay. Post-war, entire wings of Hammerheads were given what the Marines and Navy were kind enough to call the “Splash Police Refit.” Given how effective the helicopters were at ferrying troops around and how heavy-duty their frames were, it was only natural that they’d find a new life as the preferred rescue craft of the GDI Coast Guard. While the interior was made capable of lifting both heavy and light loads, the exterior saw plenty of changes too. Weapons pods on the wings were initially made to be modular to face the wide variety of Brotherhood soldiers in the field and give the pilots plenty of options on how to kill them, but now they had a series of domestic modules that made the twin-rotor aircraft more suited to saving lives than taking them. Once at the right altitude, twin spotlights lit up the capsized yacht and the pods underneath the wings shot out a series of flares into the water creating a rough perimeter as the Hammerhead turned around to face the shore. Inside the crew compartment, the lights stopped flashing and went to just a steady white light that always made Comet feel like someone had taken the pre-war sun and put it into the helicopter. “Winch is good!” Comet stated. “Harness is good!” Amethyst added after tugging the rigging on Comet one last time. “Opening the doors, you’re clear to drop.” the co-pilot added. The bottom of the Hammerhead steadily opened up, letting the raging storm into the compartment and sending a chill down Comet Tail’s spine. Winter storms were never fun to deal with before tiberium made landfall, now the worst ones felt more like Windigo breath. Down below, the spotlights had a large civilian yacht lit up like it was the middle of the day while the Hammerhead held steady 15 meters above the churning waves. This far out there wasn’t any risk of hitting rocks, but the chances of getting dragged under by powerful tides was ever-present. No sane pony, changeling, griffon, or even dragon would risk leaping into such a maelstrom. Comet Tail on the other hand just smiled at his partner, secured his breather, and without a hint of hesitation, leapt out of the safety of the helicopter. Citizens were in danger, and he had a job to do. BreachBreach “Check the street again, don’t want any surprises this time around.” Sergeant Gallant ordered tiredly. This was their fifth patrol through Canterlot in as many days and while they hadn’t had any contact yet, their sister platoon had been ambushed by those little flying daggers when moving through an intersection. “Copy.” PFC Truffle grumbled before she felt the hoof of her sergeant on her flank. “Not you.” Gallant told her, “You’ve checked the last three, I want fresh eyes this time. Forest, you’re up.” “Got it.” the other PFC stated, her voice crackling through her helmet speakers as she trotted forward. “Too green…” Gallant thought as the platoon spaced out again, “And not just on the ground.” “Clear!” Forest announced, getting a nod from all present as they continued forward, a Predator bringing up their rear. It had been a few months since the Truce had been called, and a few weeks since the Scrin had landed a tib rock in the middle of Equestria’s capital city, and now Gallant was having to patrol what was essentially enemy territory with Celestia-damned aliens on the planet. With a nod and a double check of his helmet’s filters, he continued on at a leisurely pace. Signs of aliens were usually more pronounced and even if Charlie had been caught off-guard, they already had a reputation for being the the most lax platoon when it came to patrol security and that lack of discipline had cost GDI two Timberwolves and a Predator. “Contact front!” somepony shouted and Gallant was knocked back to reality. Unicorns in his platoon had already put up shields and the Predator had its turret aimed down the road, but there wasn’t any incoming fire. “We should be dodging plasma by now.” the sergeant mused to himself as he galloped to the front of the formation, “Alright somepony tell me what the tartarus is going on.” “Movement ahead.” Truffle told him, gesturing to a storefront a full block down the road, “Confirmed Scrin presence inside but they ducked inside as soon as Hardboil said something.” “Anti-tank units from the looks of them, sergeant.” Hardboil told them, “The weird walking guns, but I only saw two of them.” “So we have at least two of the walkers hiding in a…. Ah… shit.” “Sarge?” “That’s Donut Joe’s.” Gallant muttered. Once he had, every other pony that hadn’t already looked down the road did so, if only to confirm for themselves, and a nearly synchronized sigh rang out from them all. Even the tankers sitting safely in their Predator let their frustration be known and Gallant heard one of them punch the inside of the turret, a dull quick ‘thump’ breaking the silence that had overtaken the patrol. “Breach and clear?” Truffle asked. “We have to.” Gallant replied, “Street’s too narrow for Witch’s Brew to blow it out and if she gets too close the bugs might slag her hull.” “Guess we’re doing this the hard way.” Forest deadpanned, getting an unseen glare from Truffle as she looked over at her fellow PFC, only to get a mirrored visor looking right back at her. “Unfortunately.” Gallant added in a similarly blunt fashion, “Corporal Divine, grab your team and get ready to breach, I’ll bring my team up behind you.” Divine simply pulsed her status light and got to work gathering her fireteam as the rest of the platoon inched their way down the road. When it was finally deemed unsafe for their armor support to move forward, Gallant and Divine brought their teams to the edge of Donut Joe’s Famous Shop. Nine ponies in all stacked up on the bay windows of the adjacent store that had been boarded up well before the Battle of Canterlot with Divine second in line, preferring to use her magic to hold her weapon rather than her armor. “Delta ready.” she whispered into the comm while bringing her combat shotgun to bear. “Alpha ready.” Gallant stated. Tension held for what felt like several lifetimes before Gallant realized he was holding his breath again, and it was only when he exhaled that he seemed to come back to reality. “Buck it.” Three shotgun blasts rang out in the abandoned city as Divine got to work. Once she had made short work of the hinges, the pony in front of her reared back and bucked the door open. The glass and wood gave way with little protest and before the remains of the door had even hit the ground, a trio of grenades were thrown magically through. Two of them were meant to disorient anything inside, the standard issue flashbang that GDI had put to good use in the Saddle Arabian campaigns, but the third was a new toy courtesy of ZOCOM. Sonic waves that were merely uncomfortable for ponies and griffons were lethal to the aliens, and despite their limited range, were put to great use in corralling alien units where both GDI and Nod units needed them. With the sonic waves still emitting, Delta all moved in to find a trio of bipedal aliens writhing on the ground and put them out of their misery, Divine taking pride in completely bisecting one with a well-aimed shotgun blast. After a chorus of “First floor clear!” rang out, Alpha moved in with them while one of the privates from Delta kept his weapons trained on the stairwell leading to the second floor. “Copy tha-shit.” Gallant blurted out as he found himself face-to-face with a blossoming tiberium formation where the donut displays used to be. “Call for a cleanup crew?” Divine asked. “Mark it for later, ZOCOM has their hooves full right now.” “Understood. Harrier, Jukebox, secure outside just in case the bugs decide to jump rather than fight.” “Alpha, we’re hitting the second floor.” the sergeant said rather casually. Aliens aside this was just another day at the office, mostly. Gallant and his fireteam stacked up against the stairwell, preparing to head up while the private from Delta kept vigil. Once ready, he stole one last glance at Divine who simply nodded at him and pinged her status light again. Gallant let out another breath and gave the order. The tiberium growth exploded right after he told them to breach. Pain tore through his flank and his ears were ringing. “Not ringing…. Buzzing.” To his horror, the entire shop was absolutely peppered with tiberium. The ceiling had been blown out and above him were several hives of buzzers. Instinct took over and he grabbed every sonic grenade he had and popped their pins, not even bothering to throw them up into what remained of the second floor. Before he could get his bearing he was already hearing Corporal Divine scream for them all to evacuate. To her credit, even with her front left hoof missing she was still getting the dazed soldiers moving, only pausing when Gallant forced her onto his back and started galloping out of the shop. “Actual! Barricade 2-2 has confirmed hive presence!” he barked into his helmet radio, “Corner of Hoofington Drive and Sunset Boulevard, be aware of tib growth inside, wipe it out!” “Location confirmed 2-2, Orcas are en route, ETA 90 seconds.” a calm stallion replied, though as soon as the confirmation was given, his attention turned to what was left of Bravo Platoon. “Suppress that building, damnit!” he ordered, and his ponies obeyed. Witch’s Brew’s coaxial machine gun began peppering the building’s second floor while the ponies who weren’t wounded went about laying down fire or tending to the wounded. It was only after he had set Divine down next to one of their escort Timberwolves that he finally started to feel his own pain again. She was lucky, the blast had taken her leg off clean and her suit wasn’t punctured; in fact, he noticed that every member of his team had shrapnel wounds, but no tiberium infection. “Guess we should consider ourselves lucky… guess the displays got the worst of it…” Gallant murmured as he slumped down next to Divine, only for the NCO to scoot away from him quickly. “Sarge…” she whispered. “Wha…” he started before looking down at his flank, his suit was ruptured and the tell-tale sign of crystal growth had already begun. The adrenaline was already wearing off and he could only get a single, panicked, devastating word out before the shakes and infection started to take their toll, a word that was drowned out by the storefront up the road exploding. “BREACH!” HistoryHistory “... and that is why the Princess is elected now rather than being hereditary.” an earth pony stated plainly to the colts, fillies, griffons chicks, and changeling nymphs filling the desks in front of him as he sat at the back of the classroom, “Before The War, leadership was essentially just left up to the alicorns because they happened to be alicorns, though before the Tiberium Age, their leadership did have merit.” “What about Twilight?” one of the students asked, getting a short chuckle from the earth pony. “She was originally a unicorn and ‘earned her wings’ so to speak by creating new magic, so they bestowed some responsibilities to her before things… declined.” “Before tiberium.” another student chimed in. “Exactly. Now we have just a few more minutes before the bell rings so before we get into the War tomorrow, I need a volunteer to tell me the two main factions that fought…. Golden Apple?” “GDI and the bad guys.” the young farm filly stated matter-of-factly. “I… yes, GDI and the Brotherhood of Nod.” the teacher corrected, "We'll go into more detail about both sides tomorrow before the timeline of the conflict. For now, go ahead and pack up and when the bell rings you can leave.” With a gentle wave of his hoof, the lights turned back on and the projector shut off and once the students began putting their belongings away, he trotted leisurely to his desk at the front of the classroom. All the while, he ignored the holes being bored into the back of his head by some of his students accompanied by the barely audible whispers that stopped only when he walked by. Once he took a seat at his desk he had to refrain from letting out a sigh of relief when the bell rang and his students all galloped to go enjoy recess. Once clear, he ran a robotic hoof through his mane and slumped back into his chair. “Bad guys…” he mumbled bitterly, eyes lingering on his prosthetic limb as he let it rest on the desk. The Marked of Kane emblem had been polished off shortly after the war, but the construction was iconic to anyone who had survived the fighting and the inscription never truly went away. “Bad guys…” he repeated under his breath, sighing once more, “Fighting for freedom… fighting for friendship… equality.” He almost spat that word out, looking back up to the now empty chairs that had held the various races that made up this post-war world. The next generation of GDI was sitting in his classroom and they saw him as the enemy. He made no attempt to hide his past, an old photo taken of him and his unit before he became Marked was on the book shelf by his desk and the flag of both factions were hanging at the back of the room on either side of a tattered Equestrian flag. Impartiality was treated with contempt, and his service in both armies was vilified. “Let me guess, something a filly said got under your skin.” The female voice cut through his brooding like a laser through paper, bringing his attention to the doorway where a griffon was leaning against the frame. Like the stallion she was part machine, sporting wings of GDI make and a gleaming blue eye to contrast with her natural brown one that better matched her earthy plumage. “Well you know me, not much skin left so what’s left is really sensitive.” Inky Parchment deadpanned, gesturing to his remaining tan fur with a mechanical limb. The seriousness dropped quickly as a smirk turned into a chuckle, and soon enough they were both laughing. “So right on the head?” she asked. “It’s hard not to when we get to the War, Gena, I se-” “‘Served in both armies. Honorable service for what I thought was right!’ and all that. I’ve heard it before, Inky, and you can’t keep dwelling on it.” “At least let me get one monologue off this time.” he chided, standing up slowly and trotting over to her, “Lest I lecture our lunches and radicalize our water bottles.” That comment got another laugh, as well as a cautionary finger waggle from the griffon as they both began towards the teacher’s lounge. The last time he joked about that a colt worriedly told his parents that his teacher was trying to bring back Kane in the cafeteria, and neither of them wanted to get another talking to from the principal. “They’re still children, Inky, that’s why you’re here, to put something in their heads worth remembering.” Gena told him as they rounded a hallway corner, only to have to both sidestep to either side of the hallway as another stampede of fillies, colts, fledglings, and nymphs went running past with another teacher trotting behind trying to keep up. After the flood of screaming, giggling little ones passed by, Gena and Inky traded knowing smiles and started forward again. “Uh oh, someone sounds like a Conf-” “Don’t even think about it, I will tape a fake power button to your flank again.” “Oof, low blow.” Inky teased. The two veterans made their way to the lounge, enjoying their lunch and trading quips. They had always been the most comfortable with each other compared to the rest of the faculty, that bond of surviving a war rather than seeing it on the news kept them close despite the usual divide between history teachers and math teachers that seemed to always exist regardless of school. Their day was on track to be a normal one, but as always happens in institutions of learning, a vice principal sticking their head into the teacher’s lounge heralded a midday shakeup. Before he even spoke, Inky and Gena looked at each other with concern. “Mr. Parchment… uh…” he older mare whispered, her body language showing just how uncomfortable she was, “There’s been an incident in your room…” “Who’s been hurt? How can I help?” The cyborg replied instantly as he shot out of his chair. Before he could get too far he was stopped by a hoof on his shoulder. “No one, no one. However, there’s been a uh, graffiti incident.” the vice principal stated nervously, causing Inky’s shoulders to slump and Gena’s expression to fall. “Again…?” Gena asked, getting only a solemn nod. “Let me guess. They painted ‘Traitor’ on my door again.” Inky muttered, getting yet another nod. “If you want to call it quits for today, go home and recov-” “No.” “Mr. Parchment, there’s no weakness in setting boundar-” “Mrs. Quill, I appreciate it. I really do.” Inky said, his voice coming back to him as his mismatched eyes met hers, “But I’m not going to run away with my tail between my legs because a child acted on impulse. I won’t press charges, same as last time.” Vice Principal Quill was taken aback, but gave yet another nod before gesturing out of the teacher’s lounge. Gena was quick to follow after as they got to Parchment’s room to observe the graffiti, only for him to let out a barking laugh. “They misspelled it!” he exclaimed, “I guess I’m a tractor, not a traitor!” Mrs. Quill did her best to not engage, an effort that Gena didn’t even give thought to as she broke out into laughter as well, her light tones making her coworker smile. “I change my mind, I want whoever did this to have lunch detention for a week, and extra spelling homework. If they’re going to vandalize my room they should at least do it properly.” “You’re still not offended?” Mrs. Quill asked incredulously. “Of course I am. But I’m not destroying a student’s life because they did something stupid. They’re children, they make mistakes, we all did at their age, some more severe than others. Discipline them, let me teach them why what they did is wrong, but don’t get the courts involved… besides..” Inky told her, his firm tone softening a bit. With a smile he walked up to the graffiti, gesturing for Gena to pull her phone out and take a picture as he posed with the barnhouse red paint and let off a gleeful grin. “Whoever did this? They’re not entirely wrong. It’s always nice to have a backup job ready, and enough of me is metal that I could legally be classified as farm equipment.” InfiltrationInfiltration It was darker than usual with the full moon obscured by a sand storm. She hated the sand, it always took days to get out of her kit and her mane, but the darkness? That was her friend and ally, about the only one she had left. Movement to her right made her freeze, stopping her crawl towards the GDI research facility she had been sneaking around and observing for the past 9 days, her cloaking field shimmering slightly, but only for a split-second. That movement turned out to be another patrol, more of the GDI Expeditionary Legion, more traitors. She scoffed, but the disdain only lasted as long as the shimmer of her cloaking field. She wasn’t exactly a loyal member of Nod, but circumstances kept her in their pocket until the next open war broke out… or until she finally died for real. “That’s it…” the pegasus whispered to herself, “Keep trotting along… nothing here.” Usually she’d be worried about detection, but the GDIEL was notorious for using outdated gear that was years behind the current Nod equipment. Had this been during the war, she would have been neck deep in railgun rounds, but Princess Twilight’s advances since the war ended had been extraordinary. Scanners swept over her and came up with nothing, even as the corporal leading the patrol looked right into her eyes without knowing, and the team kept moving along their patrol path. The moment they turned, she brought a small pistol out and lined it up with the flank of the rear-most private, firing. The release of CO2 was drowned out by the whipping of the sand around them, and the miniscule tracker went unfelt on the armor plating that the earth pony had on. Most importantly, a small number “9” appeared on her HUD, joining the other eight patrols that she had planted trackers on. Pleased with her progress, she keyed her radio. “Black Widow to Nest Actual.” the operative said quietly. “Go ahead Widow.” “Patrols are tagged, moving to infiltrate. Make sure you’re ready to go on my signal. Estimated exfil is… 0130.” “Copy that, Widow. Units are on standby. Good luck.” She cut the channel with that, scowling again. Luck had nothing to do with it, she was the best at what she did on either side of the battle lines. With her pistol holstered once more she started forward at a low crouch, sidestepping wire and other obstacles until she was pressed up against the outer defensive walls that lined the compound. Unlike the patrols, the turrets guarding this facility looked top-of-the-line; further evidence that this was the facility Twilight was looking for. “Expendable traitors outside, valuable regulars inside.” she thought, her wings quickly flaring to life and lifting her just far enough to slide over the top of the wall and slink into the shadow of a nearby motorpool. Lines of Pitbulls and Timberwolf APCs stood silent vigil, but the agent doubted half of them were even fueled up. This was a “safe” Green Zone assignment, even if it was within spitting distance of the civil war factory known as Saddle Arabia. Across from the motorpool she could make out an air traffic control tower and her scowl merely deepened. Air support would make extract annoying. Silently she slipped remote charges into the fuel tanks of a half-dozen of the parked vehicles, making sure to leave each recon buggy and APC just the way she found them before making her way towards the barracks. With practiced movements she strapped a trio of incendiary charges between the dome-like prefab structures and melted back into the shadows once all of her charges were showing their yellow status lights on her HUD. With her exit now half-guaranteed, her primary target remained and the Nod commando known as Black Widow silently moved from shadow to shadow until she was standing at a maintenance door for the research facility. A badge was needed to enter, as well as a retinal scan and hoof or claw scan. Usually this sort of thing would appear like overkill but if the Princess was right about what was in this facility, GDI was adopting some of the Brotherhood’s tendencies for subterfuge. Luckily for her, she had the best technology that Nod had to offer, and with a simple wave of her hoof, the jamming suite in her suit cracked through the various locks in seconds and let loose a viral worm into the building’s network. Once inside, she could hear the doors locks slam shut again through the thick metal of the door, and was assaulted by a cacophony from the monitoring equipment that she knew was waiting for her in the neighboring room from this hallway. She hadn’t heard any of this from outside, even with an ear to the door, meaning noise cancellation was part of the building’s design. A sinister smile graced her muzzle and she readied her sidearm, a silenced model commonly used by Shadows. Usually an automatic model, but she preferred a semi-automatic modification while enjoying the increased ammo capacity. With pistol in mouth, she moved into the laboratory and with one more test of just how soundproofed things were, opened up on the scientists working the night shift. Blood coated the windows, but nothing else came of it. Her virus had already snuffed out the alarm system and if anypony was watching the camera staring right at her, it was providing static. Most importantly however, was the external doors having their security lockdowns activated, locking everypony in the building with her. Until she wanted to leave, nothing would be getting out alive. With the night shift in this particular lab silenced, she started weaving through the hallways and stairwells, avoiding stairwells whenever possible and clearing every room she came across with brutal efficiency. Only when confronted with the facility’s research vault did she have reason to pause, casing it as best she could. Despite the wealth of information provided by the Shadow Corps about this base, this far into the facility there was no way of knowing what she would be running into. Those with access to the vault were most likely in the officers barracks sound asleep, and using brute force might damage the contents. With another wave of her hoof, the electronic security measures were deactivated and a proper scan was done of the vault door. Several inches of titanium stood between her and her prize, with a similar shell discouraging her from trying to get through the walls, and it was machined in a way that there were no seams to exploit where the door slid across the floor. With a sigh, she hefted a small glass cylinder with a metal head on one end and a strange liquid inside of it. While her viruses and cloaking were tried and tested, this experimental device only had Twilight’s guarantee that it would work on a GDI door that no one in the Brotherhood had ever cracked before. She holstered her pistol and activated the magnetic ring on the device with her snout before placing it on the door. Her visor automatically polarized further as a bright light was emitted from the cylinder, a laser drilling directly into the metal. Smoke filled the room but her helmet filtered it, and before long, the liquid inside of the cylinder started to empty into the door. Slowly, the nanites began eating through the locking mechanisms, only stopping when she noticed them chewing through metal and she hit the kill-switch. Opening the well-balanced door was easy after that, despite it having to weigh a few hundred kilos minimum. The agent looked into the vault with a self-satisfied grin and a hearty helping of relief that the Princess’ newest idea actually worked, both in chewing through the locks and with the kill-switch. More importantly, she had access to what GDI felt necessary to put state-of-the-art defenses around with the set dressing of Expeditionary Legion guards. Wasting no time, she sprinted over to the access console at the head of the vault full of server racks, and hacked in with little difficulty. Another worm spread through, but unlike the one ravaging the security systems, this one was intent on leaving no trace of what it was looking for. After nearly a minute of hoof-biting wait, the worm found what it was looking for and she copied all of the relevant files to her suit’s digital storage as well as a separate hard-drive being held in an ammunition pouch. Once taken, she hid all digital evidence of the intrusion, visibly downloaded some technical documents related to the original Titan program, and made a beeline for the outer doors. As she approached the exit, she brought up two icons on her HUD and activated them, and while she couldn’t hear anything inside, she was sure that the motorpool and the barracks had gone up in flames. Only when she got outside did she get confirmation of the presence of the other half of her exit strategy. A full-fledged battle was raging on the perimeter of the base as elite Black Hand troops assaulted the research outpost, lasers burning through the night and piercing the sandstorm that still raged. Tracers and railguns lanced back out at the unseen Nod force and no one noticed as a pegasus took to the sky away from the conflagration. Several hours later, the violet pegasus was brushing her black mane out of her face as Kane himself stood in front of her and the holotable that her hard-drive was plugged into. Twilight was poring over the wealth of data and Flurry Heart was staring at Black Widow the entire time as if waiting for a moment to strike. “Is it as we hoped, Princess?” Kane finally asked. “It’s buried deep in the data, but this does confirm that they’re holding it in ZOCOM Headquarters… now we just have to figure out how to steal it.” Kane nodded, his ever-confident grin coming back as his eyes met that of the commando who had delivered this news. “I know just who to ask.” Kane stated, and soon enough his grin was matched by Twilight and Flurry Heart. “Tell me Sakura…”Princess Twilight asked, “How would you like to go down in history as the mare who delivered the Tacitus to the Nod’s Messiah?”
The Best of the WorstThe Best of the Worst A light blue stallion stared up at the sky with a mixture of boredom and longing. Sure, everything was tinted tiberium green but the sky was still the sky, even in a flight suit, and he would have given anything to be up in the air again. With a sigh, he shook his head, looked at the picture of his family fastened to his rifle, and focused on his HUD again. Sky Sentry had picked up this insurgent group working out of a decommissioned base from the war and it was up to Sergeant Swift Mist and his fireteam and to keep the runners from getting away while the rest of the company smothered this thing before it became a problem for the Baltimare Blue Zone. The fact that a GDI Security Platoon was present with his team didn’t count for much in his eyes, and he focused on the task at hand. “You’d think they’d give us gear with climate control that actually works…” one of his team, a lithe pegasus griped, “Think I can nab a spare breather off these Zoners without’em noticing?” “You know the rules, Bouncer, ‘nabbing’ gets you a strike. Asking politely gets you laughed at.” Mist told her, “Besides, they have to save all the new stuff for the Troopers and tankers or else we’ll go soft like those weekend warriors.” “Yeah yeah… still…” she started before her helmeted sergeant turned his head slightly and she backed down. “Anything on the rebels down there, sarge?” another of his team asked. This one was a griffon by the name of Apollo who happened to be the team’s designated marksman, but was for the time being, propped up against a rock with his rifle in his lap. His casual demeanor born of the fact that this was the 8th insurgent encampment his team had been part of a raid on this week alone and none of them had managed to so much as scuff the griffon’s armor so far. “Cap thinks it’s a shiner enclave, but 3rd Platoon saw scorpion tails on some of the gear.” Swift told him, causing the rest of the team to pause slightly. “But this is a defunct GDI facility, why would they hole up with heretic equipment?” Bouncer chimed in, only for her inquiry to get drowned out by gunfire and their comm systems to start blaring out orders. Like clockwork, Swift’s fireteam got to their positions, weapons at the ready and already trained on the choke point they had created. In contrast, their counterparts in the Security Platoon were less organized and weren’t fully in position when the first insurgent burst through the rear gate of the abandoned base. Swift Mist’s team did their work quickly, efficiently, and without remorse as pony after pony ran right into their sights and were swiftly put down. By the time the engagement came to a close, around 20 Nod insurgents were dead either by the hoof of the assault teams out front, Mist’s ambush, or through zealous suicide in the face of the GDI oppressors. Thankfully, none of his team knew any of the dead Noddies. “So much wasted blood…” Swift thought as he looked down at the earth ponies in their haphazard Brotherhood regalia, some of it was older than the gear he was using, which was saying something considering that much of the GDI Expeditionary Legion’s gear was originally issued during the last months of the Tiberium War nearly 8 years ago. With a sigh, he looked back at his family’s photo, back to the sky, then got his team heading back to the Timberwolf that brought them out here, and for the third time that day, the pegasus known as Swift Mist wished he still had both his wings. “Still beats walking…” he finally let out as the APC started lumbering off towards their forward operating base a few clicks to the south. GDIEL weren’t allowed inside the Blue Zones except when on leave or when visiting their families before their term of service was up, so their encampment was still in the yellow zone that many of them had called home during and after the war. “And finally some damn AC.” Bouncer let out, “Didn’t want their soft, Blue Zone hides to get all sweaty before coming after us even back then, eh?” “For a Red Zone refugee you sure bitch about air conditioning a lot.” Mist quipped. “Only during summer, sarge, and even you have to admit that it’s a scorcher this year.” Mist took his helmet off specifically to raise an unimpressed eyebrow at her before letting what amounted to fresh air work over his mane and into his suit. His armor had been cutting edge a decade ago, now the damn thing couldn’t even get good circulation to his remaining wing without his seals being open. He would never complain though, the gear he had when he was fighting for Nod was shabby even back then, and while not as new and advanced as what they gave to GDI’s regular troops, it was more than enough to keep him alive for another 3 years no matter how hard the sun or Nod’s remnant tried. The rest of the trip was uneventful as the aged APCs and their Predator escort made their way back to “Fortress Exile”, the FOB that Swift Mist and the rest of the company he was attached to called home. Physical and magical barriers were lifted or moved aside to let the convoy in, and without ceremony, the companies that took part in the raid made their way to their respective barracks. Apollo and Bouncer were first through the decontamination airlocks, and were both out of their gear by the time Swift made it through. The green pegasus and grey griffon both looked at their sergeant who simply waved dismissively at them after tossing his helmet onto his bunk. They nodded, smiled, and made their way towards the mess hall airlock. With his team now officially dismissed for the evening he took his time getting out of, cleaning, and storing his gear properly, with his rifle saved for last. The photo of his family was gingerly moved to his pillow and he looked at his wife and son one more time before he began cleaning. They were safely inside the Canterlot Blue Zone of all places, his wife was working at tiberium research facility, his son going to a nice elementary school named after some dead war hero, and all the while he was sitting out here in a yellow zone for the next three years. For another three years he would do the jobs the GDI regular army couldn’t handle, and things that the Zone Troopers or Commandos didn’t have time for. It would be rough, slogging through it with outdated equipment, a constantly rotating roster of new arrivals and fresh departures, and all while living in an environment that most ponies would consider inhospitable. And yet the thought of this made him smile as he continued diligently cleaning his weapon. Life under Nod had been nothing but broken promises of a better life, of a life without the unicorn primacy and classism of the past. Nod was gone, and it had cost him a wing, an eye, and half of one of his legs, and all he had to show for it was a ramshackle home for him and his pregnant wife. No veterans benefits were coming from the now defunct and decimated Brotherhood, and as far as he knew at the time, they were on their own. All that changed the moment a GDI officer entered their dilapidated village and gave him the opportunity of a lifetime. 10 years of service in the Expeditionary Legion, or a medical discharge due to combat-related injuries, and he would be a full citizen of GDI. His wife and infant son however, would be granted citizenship and a place in a Blue Zone immediately. His wages were his own to keep or send home, and the fact that he had been a Confessor did nothing to deter the officer who had recruited him. In fact, it was the reason he still had three stripes on his uniform instead of one, or Luna forbid, none. No one was in a hurry to bump former Nod NCOs and officers down to Private and add insult to the injury of being on the losing side of a world-spanning war. His thoughts were interrupted as the comm device underneath his pillow began vibrating. Quickly he put his rifle aside just long enough to grab it, tap the button to accept the call, and then prop it up next to his family photo. Looking back at him was the very same colt and mare who were standing next to him in the photo. “Busy week?” his wife asked with a smile. Swift Mist returned the smile and gave a sly wink to his son before looking his rifle over once more. “Pretty routine, actually. So, how did school go?” Author's Note So it begins; no posting schedule, "chapters" will be added as they're written. Let's see how far we can take this!
Welcome to the Green ZoneWelcome to the Green Zone Amber Blossom trotted along a busy street lined with stalls and their owners peddling various goods. Everything from the mundane fruits to contraband, wartime gear and weapons were available at the Dodge Bazaar, though today she was looking for something specific. Despite the wide range of knicks, knacks, and everything in between for sale, the one thing she was looking for seemed to still be in limited supply. For nearly two hours the off-yellow mare searched and searched and searched, but it wasn’t until the green orb in the sky began to crest the walls of the nearby Dodge Junction Blue Zone that she finally stumbled across the stall she had been looking for. “How much for the sonic grooming kit, Gizmo?” she asked the somewhat pudgy diamond dog running the stall. “30 bits, or a fair trade.” he told her, pulling the aforementioned box off the shelf and placing it on the counter between them. “I do still kinda owe you for getting me that crate of batteries last year.” “Aw it was nothing, sugar. I have to help my favorite diamond dog, y’know?” Amber replied with a smile that made the sun glint pleasantly off the tiberium shards that lined her lower jaw. Gizmo smirked back at her and idly scratched similar shards that sprouted from his shoulder before pointing at her in a mockingly accusatory manner. “I also happen to be the only diamond dog you know.” “Doesn’t change a thing. How about 20 bits and this solar charge pack?” Amber asked, only to get widened eyes from the merchant standing before her. “Hell I’d give it to you for the solar pack alone, but don’t you need it? I thought your...” “Not at all, the grid in my neighborhood finally got full solar proofing a couple days ago, so I need a way to maintain my ‘jewelry’ more than I need something to keep my appliances running.” Amber told him. “So, pack for the kit?” “Deal.” Gizmo said, pushing the kit towards her and eagerly accepting the solar charge pack into his hands once her magical aura released it, “I don’t know whether to sell this or keep it for personal use. Guess I owe you another one, don’t I?” “Hey, this was a fair trade, don’t fret, got it?” the unicorn told him, getting a genuine smile in return as he nodded and slowly began to pack up his stall for the day. With her new prized possession finally sitting nicely in her saddlebags, Amber Blossom began the short trek to the apartment complex she called home. Pre-war streets and sidewalks were still mostly maintained despite being outside of the Blue Zone, not that she could confirm what it was like in one having never set foot in a modern Blue Zone in her life. She had been infected before the war and spent the entirety of the fighting locked up in some ZOCOM containment facility with other mutants. It wasn’t until Celestia was dead that she was able to live what amounted to a normal life for tib-infested ponies. That “normal” life was spent in the Canterlot-Dodge Junction Green Zone, the largest of its kind. Unlike Blue Zones, the Green Zones had no true walls, but were merely stretches of land between the Blue Zones that were fully protected, patrolled, and maintained by GDI, though that last one was debatable depending on the month. The war had only been over a year and recovery was slow. Not that Amber could complain, Green Zones were far better than the harsh, unforgiving lives that ponies and other misplaced races had to eke out in the yellow zones, and an apartment was a far cry from a shanty town. Blossom sighed as she continued to trot along the sidewalk towards her home, the breeze felt nice and while non-mutants needed either protective gear or good sunblock to be exposed to unfiltered sunlight, to mutants the rays of the sun were still a warm, welcoming, and even invigorating embrace. By the time she made it to her door, the sun had finally slipped behind the horizon and the moon was now making its way through the night sky. Magic enveloped the key to her apartment and she was welcomed into her home by a flier for some support group or activist organization that had been slipped under her door by somepony or other mixed in with her mail. Her aura grabbed the pile of papers and envelopes and she began rifling through them, with most of the pile ending up in her trash can as she impatiently found her way to her bathroom and started running a bath. The water was the familiar off-blue color that showed her that the filters and decontaminants were working as needed to keep her infestation from infecting the rest of the town’s water supply, and she eased herself into the water with a happy groan. After a few moments of soaking, she used her magic to unbox the grooming kit she had gotten and after giving the instructions a quick once-over, let out an elated squeak as she managed to painlessly shave down one of her tiberium shards so it wouldn’t poke her in the neck every time she looked down. Small victories in the Green Zones were still victories all the same, and for a pony who had formerly been stuck in a prison in all but name, Amber Blossom considered her life out here between the Zones absolutely charmed in comparison as she hummed her way through her bath and soon after, into a good night’s rest.
In The Name of KaneIn the Name of Kane The sound of bullets whizzing by was usually a distressing sound for a soldier, but for Colonel Starlight Glimmer, the sound brought nothing but amusement. GDI had already killed her once, they would not do so again, especially not with simple probing fire like this. With a pep in her step that was uncharacteristic for an officer who had spent the last two weeks living in trenches and tents on one side of a two-way artillery duel she continued on her way. Today was no different from all the other days that she had been here on the line, GDI probing fire ranging from Kodiak shells to machine gun fire impacted the shield and occasionally a stray round would find its way through and hit the barricades that Nod’s engineers had managed to get built, not that it really mattered on the part of the line that Spike had given to the Marked of Kane. “So boring… but necessary.” she mused silently as a particularly colorful artillery spell impacted the barrier and created a lovely light show, “No sense revealing ourselves to GDI before the time is right.” As if summoned by her thoughts, her EVA sprang to life, a certain drake was calling another meeting, and if he was pulling in unit commanders, then something had most definitely changed on the line. With a sigh and a shrug she sent an affirmative reply as well as her ETA back to Slavik’s network, followed by bringing up a map of the trenches that scrolled across her integrated visor. Her inspection of her unit’s forward positions would have to wait, not that she expected much to have changed since the day before. Her trip took her first back through a checkpoint she had just passed through, getting an amused look from one sentry and a confused look from the other. The one without the incredulous look on his face had obviously been here longer than his inquisitive partner, and he waved Colonel Glimmer through once she flashed her ID. Spike wasn’t known for micromanaging, but his timing was infamous among his subordinate officers, with an accidental habit of calling them into meetings or emergency briefings the moment they were about to commit to their own duties. “Back in 30, ma’am?” the other guard asked, half genuine, half teasing with his tone. “Honestly I’m just going to pin my ID to my armor if he keeps this up.” she quipped, getting a chuckle out of the two guards before continuing on her way. The fastest route back to Rarity’s field bunker first took her through a medical outpost, little more than a camouflaged tent lined by sandbags inside with a handful of triage stations inside that were thankfully empty today. The line had been static for well over a week at this point, and the field medics currently on duty in the tent were lounging about with a deck of cards before giving a respectful nod. Saluting wasn’t allowed on front-line assignments, but not due to the actions of GDI. Nod snipers had made it a habit of hitting GDI officers whenever they could identify them, and the entire Brotherhood had adopted the protective habit as a precaution just in case the eagle decided to return the favor. She returned the nod to the two medics before ushering herself out and back into the covered trench system, calmly looking over to her left as what she assumed to be an artillery round managed to pierce the magical shielding and impacted the ground relatively nearby. The detonation threw up dirt and debris, but Starlight’s onboard sensors didn’t pick up any organic matter, at least nothing flesh and blood. A bush however, was completely annihilated and she couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the fact that all of GDI’s might and luck in getting a shell through didn’t even hit one of their trenches, but instead impacted between them. Before continuing on she felt something brush her hoof and noticed a limb from that particularly resilient bush had landed in the pathway in front of her. With a smile she gingerly moved it out with her magic and feigned a morose tone. “Truly you were the greatest martyr of the Brotherhood, Sister Shrub.” she lamented before once again continuing on her way through the winding trench system, pausing only when her path took her into one of the forward mess halls. Unlike the triage tent, this structure was more than just fabric and sand, built to be used as a fallback position in case GDI grew a spine and hit their position instead of the other way around. Inside, Starlight saw the dream that she had for pre-war Equestria realized, as soldiers of every conceivable species were milling about, grabbing their meals, taking down time to look over letters, and other such comforts that were available to them. While not an ideal way to bring all the races of the continent together, it did fill her with hope every time she saw just how united the Brotherhood was against GDI’s injustice. Griffons, ponies, diamond dogs, even a pair of dragons were eating and relaxing, or at least the closest thing to relaxing as one could in a trench, together in harmony that GDI preached but only the Brotherhood truly acted on. Those that noticed her gave friendly nods and smiles that she returned as she combed her way through the busy hub, deftly making her way through the mess until finally she was back out in the open air and only one junction away from her destination. And then the ground exploded again. Unlike the previous detonation that had so savagely shredded a shrubbery, the shower of dirt that Starlight Glimmer was treated to was rather tame this time, barely registering as impacting her armor but enough to get a surprised ‘eep’ out of her as dirt hit her flank. Her surprise gave way to curiosity and the smoking hole only a yard away right outside of the trench caught her attention. More specifically, the unexploded shell sitting in the center of this newly created crater. “EVA, lock the mess behind me and call in EOD with that shell’s location.” she finally said after a few seconds of staring at the defunct ordinance. Once her EVA had confirmed that her orders were received and that a disposal team was on the way, she finally continued on and without further incident, made her way into the bunker that Slavik had summoned her to. “Colonel Glimmer, nice of you to join us.” Spike said once she entered the room. “Took the scenic route, General, just uh, be sure not to go out the door behind me until the EOD team gets rid of the unexploded artillery shell that nearly killed me.” Starlight replied, getting a smirk from the drake that she had befriended what felt like so very long ago. “Duly noted, though I doubt we’ll have to worry too much about that for much longer. Kane’s orders have just come down the chain… it’s time.” Author's Note Literally everyone was asking for more Nod and while I just don't have the ability to make a multi-chapter, single narrative story about the Brotherhood, I sure as hell can drabble the hell outta them.
Kane Lives in DeathKane Lives in Death He had never been the most imposing of griffons, and his armor always felt a bit comical on his relatively light frame. The pawprints of the Black Hand however, always felt right etched on his pauldrons, and in the medallion that he wore around his neck. During the war he had been a simple tanker, blessed with helping fight in Baltimare inside a flame tank, and he had even been one of the few to survive the Battle of Temple Prime and escape GDI custody even as Kane's successor, Twilight, fled all those years ago. His dark feathers matched the onyx coloration of his armor, still as protective as it was during the war when it was first issued to him, fresh out of the tiberium-fueled forges of the Brotherhood of Nod. His laser rifle was now more of a decorative piece on the wall behind his desk, but his trusty laser pistol was always at his side. His eyes were a similar coloration as his plumage, and burned with a passion that had endeared him to his former commanding officer, the traitor Hyperion. The griffon’s skin crawled at the mere thought of that traitor, and how much he sacrificed to gain his favor only for that damnable earth pony to turn his back on the Brotherhood, but that was neither here nor there, Brother Marcion had more important things to attend to. “The delegation for Saddle Arabia is waiting, sir.” his EVA chimed. “Very well, inform them that I am on my way.” Marcion replied, his scowl turning to a smile. His former CO may have been a traitor but the lessons imparted on the newly ascended leader of the Black Hand still held true. Using his mentor’s own tactics to frustrate GDI’s unification efforts away from what used to be Equestria was more than enough to put him in a good mood. Saddle Arabia was always contested ground during the war, even with Hyperion orchestrating the fall of its government and leading to the civil war that plagued it well past the fall of Temple Prime. Even when the lasers and bullets flew between Celestial loyalists and Nod rebels, the entire country and its once-priceless fuel reserves tended to fly both flags at the same time. Today that was going to change, at least unofficially, as GDI’s efforts on the continent had been hounded by Marcion ever since he slew the heretical dragon that had taken Sister Pinkie Pie’s place as head of the Hand. The Saddle Arabian royal family, or at least what was left of it after a decade of fighting, would finally be throwing their full support behind the Brotherhood. The fact that a significant portion of the bloodshed was caused by Nod troops using old GDI gear to “accidentally” cause collateral damage was something for Marcion alone to know. Marcion continued his brisk pace to the conference room of his underground stronghold, and while it was not nearly as secure as Temple Prime, it was surely more opulent than that research outpost turned holy site. Black Hand banners lined the hallways of any public passage that foreign diplomats or prisoners would see during transit, and the low, red lighting made the surplus of guards look all the more menacing even in their ceremonial uniforms. This aesthetic mixed with the reforms in armor design and even to Black Hand doctrine were all part of Marcion’s attempt to paint Kane’s most devout followers in a much more positive light. The fracture caused by Chrysalis and the devastation of the Black Hand at Temple Prime had, at least in the eyes of the survivors, tarnished the reputation of the Brotherhood at large, but none suffered a hit harder than Pinkie Pie’s disciples. Where once there was a force that made GDI infantry cower just at the sound of their name, they were now seen merely as a different, more dogmatic sect of Nod with fancier uniforms than the militia. “This changes today.” Marcion thought as he finally made his way into the room and gave a graceful bow to the two delegates waiting for him. He recognized the pink mare, Amira, despite how the rough years had aged her. She had once been part of a Saddle Arabian overture to the griffons before the war, back when he was a simple palace guard. The second mare with the blue coat and significantly younger, was new to him, but based on their body language, she was more of an aide rather than an ambassador. Both looked somewhat uncomfortable sitting in the large room with only guards for company, though that was the intention. The entire conference room was made to hold two dozen delegates, their aides, and all necessary security personnel needed to protect them, on top of a massive screen for showing documents or allowing communication with those unable to travel to Marcion’s stronghold. “My apologies for keeping you both waiting.” Marcion stated with a practiced, diplomatic tone as he took a seat, “I trust the trip here was suitably peaceful.” “Suitable, yes.” Amira mused, “Though with respect to yourself and your storied organization, I believe that time has made niceties a luxury neither of us can afford.” “Of course, we shall get down to negotiations at once. Your support of the Black Hand will be invaluab-” “Of the Brotherhood, not just the Black Hand. Your superior made it crystal clear that we would be supporting the entirety of the Brotherhood of Nod, not just the Black Hand.” Marcion paused for a moment, confusion clear on his face for a moment before he regained his composure. “My.. superior.” he said, as if the words being said aloud would make it more clear, “I’m afraid I do not understand, madam ambassador. The Brotherhood fractured with the death of Kane, and Princess Twilight has not been heard of for nearly a decade.” “I expected GDI would be quick to bury me, but I expected more of the Black Hand.” a stallion’s voice cut in through the conference room’s audio system. Marcion froze, skin prickling as the tell-tale hum of the view screen slowly coming online. He knew that voice, but it had always been synthesized or a recording, or some hack in GDI pretending to be Him. The screen finally fully came to life, and Marcion’s blood froze at the sight of a bald earth pony stallion standing between two alicorns. One was clearly Princess Twilight in her signature black lab gear, the regalia of royalty left behind years ago, but the other was… different. She was younger with a light pink coat, but he could see tiberium crystal etching all around her coat from her horn to her hooves. Her cutie mark, obviously a whole depiction of what used to be the Crystal Heart, was tiberium green, matching her eyes. Despite the presence of two goddesses, it was the stallion that kept his attention the most. He had seen the ion strike that hit Temple Prime, his vision was blurry for days afterwards, and the image of the attack had been permanently etched into the griffon’s mind. What he was seeing was impossible. “Nothing to say, Brother Marcion?” “You… I…” he sputtered as the Saddle Arabian delegates both glowed green, revealing themselves to be changelings clad in Brotherhood uniforms. Each one with the emblem of the Marked of Kane etched onto the shoulders, and their clearly cybernetic eyes stared down the armored griffon as he prostrated himself before the Messiah. “I have been loyal, I swear it. The rest of the Brotherhood was scattered, I salvaged what I could, continued the work, never besmirched your na-” “Yes, I know, my son, I know.” Kane interjected calmly, “And it is for that reason that it is time for you to return to the fold. Rise. The Black Hand is needed once more, my brother, and there is much work to be done.”
PrivateersPrivateers Lightning lit up the sky over the Celestial Sea, storm rains pelting the surf that was churning underneath the severe winds. In the middle of this storm, a single ship fought against the waves. Before the war, his sailing ship was top-of-the-line, fastest wooden vessel on the water, and one of the best armed pirating vessels that plagued the seas. Then Tiberium made landfall, and Equestria underwent a military expansion the likes no one had seen since the days of Commander Hurricane, and suddenly ships of steel that had once been a rare sight were ruling the waves near GDI coastlines. Life on the sea had always been a bit harsh for pirates given how many of the world’s governments wanted them all dead or arrested, and the sudden influx of organized navies didn’t make it any easier.. Although they were widely considered a soon to be extinct way of life before the war began, the world-spanning Tiberium War had completely changed the fortunes of Harrier Ironwing and his entire crew. Working on the sea against the GDI Navy was out of the question, but working with them was an offer that nearly surprised the feathers off the salty old pirate. Receiving his Letter of Marque was both a proud and controversial day not just for Harrier, but for the dozens of pirate crews that GDI had contracted. For him, it was a question of loyalty; his home nation had aligned with Nod, but his home nation had also disowned him a dozen times over before the war had started, and now he not only had free reign to target any vessel flying Nod colors, but to keep any ship he could tackle. GDI had originally thought nothing of this, given the Brotherhood’s navy was mostly focused around overwhelming numbers of smaller, faster ships rather than the floating fortresses of their eagle-clad rivals. They had thought that the most he’d be able to do would be to harass Nod’s merchant navy, maybe help disrupt supply lines overseas to the battlefields that GDI wasn’t able to fully commit to. They thought that he’d be lucky to get away unscathed if he ran across a purpose built Nod warship. It wasn’t until Ironwing managed to capture a corvette in the closing weeks of the war that GDI truly realized what they had unleashed on the water. Harrier smiled as water from a particularly tall wave splashed over the bow of the Stormcutter, originally the Pinkie Pie, a Nod missile corvette. He had been happy with the upgrade, and ever since he managed to capture this capable vessel, he relished the chances to test her against the worst tempests he could find given the surprising lack of targets on the ocean this time of year. With more than enough room for Ironwing’s 50-griffon crew, and enough firepower to challenge anything short of a cruiser thanks to the full stock of ordinance left on board, the Stormcutter was all Ironwing could have asked for and more. The real prize though, was the cloaking device that she came with, something that Ironwing wouldn’t have been able to even guess at its operation if half the ship’s original crew hadn’t agreed to sign on with the famous griffon. A hundred pirates strong, with enough fuel in the bunkers to last a year without Nod prey, and more than enough missiles sitting in their tubes to outgun anything they couldn’t outrun. All he needed now was a Brotherhood ship, though they were getting increasingly hard to find given how the war had ended a mere six months ago. “Captain, radar is showing a contact….” one of his crew stated over the gale outside of the bridge, a pony that had jumped ship rather than get tossed off of it. “Colors?” Ironwing asked, looking back at his ‘radar officer’, a position he still wasn’t used to having under his command. After a few moments of peering at the displays around his station, the unicorn gave a feral grin back to his commander. “Brotherhood, logistics, posing as a GDI merchmantmare, but we have her transponder in our library.” “Action stations!” Ironwing bellowed, and all throughout the ship klaxons blared. Pirates from every walk of life, including a particularly well-off unicorn mare that Ironwing was sure used to be married to some Canterlot bigwig with a blue mustache, all sprung into action and found their battle stations throughout the vessel. Even as waves crashed across her bow and wind tore at her superstructure, the only thing that gave anyone on his ship pause was the occasional strike of lightning on the water as they approached their lumbering target. “Hit the cloak.” Ironwing ordered with a smile, his red plumage seeming to come to life at the prospect of another hunt, his black eyes shining like he was fresh out of the nest all over again. “Cloaking.” another griffon answered. With the tell-tale shimmering of Nod stealth tech, the Stormcutter disappeared from view, with only the lightning causing her invisibility shield to glitch. “Give warning and announce us; time to go to work, everyone!” Ironwing commanded jovially, his boisterous tone being matched by a hearty, predatory laugh as the merchantmare tried to turn and run. To the Nod vessel they were chasing, it looked like a ghost ship was hunting them. To the GDI navy, this well-armed privateer was a small price to pay to keep Nod’s dwindling sea power under control. To Harrier Irongwing, it was just another day of enjoying the best job he ever had.
Rotors EngagedRotors Engaged The eastern coast of Equestria had seen significant fleet action during the war, and not just the Rescue of the 10,000. Nod’s navy had made themselves at home across the sea, and after the death of Kane, what was left of it had either disbanded or turned to piracy. To top it all off, the entire coast was still a hazard zone with how many hulks had washed up over the years, and with many of the Brotherhood’s capital ships using either nuclear reactors or tiberium power generation as opposed to GDI’s magical spark reactors. This made each new hull that resurfaced ZOCOM’s job to fix. All of this and more, Comet Tail was happy to not have to deal with. The western coast of Equestria didn’t see any heavy action by comparison, and pirates rarely ventured to this side of the continent. Of course, these facts weren’t really at the forefront of the unicorn’s mind. What worried him was the fact that he was 100 meters above a churning ocean in a Hammerhead, barely keeping his dinner down as wind gusts of 50 kph tore at the helicopter. The last thing the yellow stallion wanted to do was throw up in his helmet mid-mission, and scrubbing vomit out of the troop bay was not what he wanted to do once getting back to base. Across the bay, his partner seemed to be struggling in the same manner as he could see her grimacing. Amethyst Star had a habit of leaving her breather hanging around her neck even when her visor was down, a habit he had talked with her about at least a dozen times and had been shrugged off each time. “Our job is easier when ponies can see a smiling face.” she had said the first time he mentioned how dangerous it could be, something he rolled his eyes at every time she repeated herself. “Not gonna puke on me, are you?” he finally shouted over the storm. “If dinner’s going the wrong way I’ll do it out the back, Comet!” Amethyst replied, her grimace turning into a smile momentarily before another wind gust rocked the pair. Comet was about to return a quip of his own when the red lights in the troop bay began flashing green. “Show time!” the co-pilot’s voice chimed in over their helmet speakers, “Positive ID on the yacht, heat sigs showing survivors.” “Physical or magical extraction?” Amethyst asked. “Wind’s too strong, stick to physical.” “Copy.” Comet acknowledged before looking back at Amethyst, “Gear check!” As the two unicorns felt the Hammerhead descend rapidly as they double-checked their rigs, as well as the winch in the center of the bay. Post-war, entire wings of Hammerheads were given what the Marines and Navy were kind enough to call the “Splash Police Refit.” Given how effective the helicopters were at ferrying troops around and how heavy-duty their frames were, it was only natural that they’d find a new life as the preferred rescue craft of the GDI Coast Guard. While the interior was made capable of lifting both heavy and light loads, the exterior saw plenty of changes too. Weapons pods on the wings were initially made to be modular to face the wide variety of Brotherhood soldiers in the field and give the pilots plenty of options on how to kill them, but now they had a series of domestic modules that made the twin-rotor aircraft more suited to saving lives than taking them. Once at the right altitude, twin spotlights lit up the capsized yacht and the pods underneath the wings shot out a series of flares into the water creating a rough perimeter as the Hammerhead turned around to face the shore. Inside the crew compartment, the lights stopped flashing and went to just a steady white light that always made Comet feel like someone had taken the pre-war sun and put it into the helicopter. “Winch is good!” Comet stated. “Harness is good!” Amethyst added after tugging the rigging on Comet one last time. “Opening the doors, you’re clear to drop.” the co-pilot added. The bottom of the Hammerhead steadily opened up, letting the raging storm into the compartment and sending a chill down Comet Tail’s spine. Winter storms were never fun to deal with before tiberium made landfall, now the worst ones felt more like Windigo breath. Down below, the spotlights had a large civilian yacht lit up like it was the middle of the day while the Hammerhead held steady 15 meters above the churning waves. This far out there wasn’t any risk of hitting rocks, but the chances of getting dragged under by powerful tides was ever-present. No sane pony, changeling, griffon, or even dragon would risk leaping into such a maelstrom. Comet Tail on the other hand just smiled at his partner, secured his breather, and without a hint of hesitation, leapt out of the safety of the helicopter. Citizens were in danger, and he had a job to do.
BreachBreach “Check the street again, don’t want any surprises this time around.” Sergeant Gallant ordered tiredly. This was their fifth patrol through Canterlot in as many days and while they hadn’t had any contact yet, their sister platoon had been ambushed by those little flying daggers when moving through an intersection. “Copy.” PFC Truffle grumbled before she felt the hoof of her sergeant on her flank. “Not you.” Gallant told her, “You’ve checked the last three, I want fresh eyes this time. Forest, you’re up.” “Got it.” the other PFC stated, her voice crackling through her helmet speakers as she trotted forward. “Too green…” Gallant thought as the platoon spaced out again, “And not just on the ground.” “Clear!” Forest announced, getting a nod from all present as they continued forward, a Predator bringing up their rear. It had been a few months since the Truce had been called, and a few weeks since the Scrin had landed a tib rock in the middle of Equestria’s capital city, and now Gallant was having to patrol what was essentially enemy territory with Celestia-damned aliens on the planet. With a nod and a double check of his helmet’s filters, he continued on at a leisurely pace. Signs of aliens were usually more pronounced and even if Charlie had been caught off-guard, they already had a reputation for being the the most lax platoon when it came to patrol security and that lack of discipline had cost GDI two Timberwolves and a Predator. “Contact front!” somepony shouted and Gallant was knocked back to reality. Unicorns in his platoon had already put up shields and the Predator had its turret aimed down the road, but there wasn’t any incoming fire. “We should be dodging plasma by now.” the sergeant mused to himself as he galloped to the front of the formation, “Alright somepony tell me what the tartarus is going on.” “Movement ahead.” Truffle told him, gesturing to a storefront a full block down the road, “Confirmed Scrin presence inside but they ducked inside as soon as Hardboil said something.” “Anti-tank units from the looks of them, sergeant.” Hardboil told them, “The weird walking guns, but I only saw two of them.” “So we have at least two of the walkers hiding in a…. Ah… shit.” “Sarge?” “That’s Donut Joe’s.” Gallant muttered. Once he had, every other pony that hadn’t already looked down the road did so, if only to confirm for themselves, and a nearly synchronized sigh rang out from them all. Even the tankers sitting safely in their Predator let their frustration be known and Gallant heard one of them punch the inside of the turret, a dull quick ‘thump’ breaking the silence that had overtaken the patrol. “Breach and clear?” Truffle asked. “We have to.” Gallant replied, “Street’s too narrow for Witch’s Brew to blow it out and if she gets too close the bugs might slag her hull.” “Guess we’re doing this the hard way.” Forest deadpanned, getting an unseen glare from Truffle as she looked over at her fellow PFC, only to get a mirrored visor looking right back at her. “Unfortunately.” Gallant added in a similarly blunt fashion, “Corporal Divine, grab your team and get ready to breach, I’ll bring my team up behind you.” Divine simply pulsed her status light and got to work gathering her fireteam as the rest of the platoon inched their way down the road. When it was finally deemed unsafe for their armor support to move forward, Gallant and Divine brought their teams to the edge of Donut Joe’s Famous Shop. Nine ponies in all stacked up on the bay windows of the adjacent store that had been boarded up well before the Battle of Canterlot with Divine second in line, preferring to use her magic to hold her weapon rather than her armor. “Delta ready.” she whispered into the comm while bringing her combat shotgun to bear. “Alpha ready.” Gallant stated. Tension held for what felt like several lifetimes before Gallant realized he was holding his breath again, and it was only when he exhaled that he seemed to come back to reality. “Buck it.” Three shotgun blasts rang out in the abandoned city as Divine got to work. Once she had made short work of the hinges, the pony in front of her reared back and bucked the door open. The glass and wood gave way with little protest and before the remains of the door had even hit the ground, a trio of grenades were thrown magically through. Two of them were meant to disorient anything inside, the standard issue flashbang that GDI had put to good use in the Saddle Arabian campaigns, but the third was a new toy courtesy of ZOCOM. Sonic waves that were merely uncomfortable for ponies and griffons were lethal to the aliens, and despite their limited range, were put to great use in corralling alien units where both GDI and Nod units needed them. With the sonic waves still emitting, Delta all moved in to find a trio of bipedal aliens writhing on the ground and put them out of their misery, Divine taking pride in completely bisecting one with a well-aimed shotgun blast. After a chorus of “First floor clear!” rang out, Alpha moved in with them while one of the privates from Delta kept his weapons trained on the stairwell leading to the second floor. “Copy tha-shit.” Gallant blurted out as he found himself face-to-face with a blossoming tiberium formation where the donut displays used to be. “Call for a cleanup crew?” Divine asked. “Mark it for later, ZOCOM has their hooves full right now.” “Understood. Harrier, Jukebox, secure outside just in case the bugs decide to jump rather than fight.” “Alpha, we’re hitting the second floor.” the sergeant said rather casually. Aliens aside this was just another day at the office, mostly. Gallant and his fireteam stacked up against the stairwell, preparing to head up while the private from Delta kept vigil. Once ready, he stole one last glance at Divine who simply nodded at him and pinged her status light again. Gallant let out another breath and gave the order. The tiberium growth exploded right after he told them to breach. Pain tore through his flank and his ears were ringing. “Not ringing…. Buzzing.” To his horror, the entire shop was absolutely peppered with tiberium. The ceiling had been blown out and above him were several hives of buzzers. Instinct took over and he grabbed every sonic grenade he had and popped their pins, not even bothering to throw them up into what remained of the second floor. Before he could get his bearing he was already hearing Corporal Divine scream for them all to evacuate. To her credit, even with her front left hoof missing she was still getting the dazed soldiers moving, only pausing when Gallant forced her onto his back and started galloping out of the shop. “Actual! Barricade 2-2 has confirmed hive presence!” he barked into his helmet radio, “Corner of Hoofington Drive and Sunset Boulevard, be aware of tib growth inside, wipe it out!” “Location confirmed 2-2, Orcas are en route, ETA 90 seconds.” a calm stallion replied, though as soon as the confirmation was given, his attention turned to what was left of Bravo Platoon. “Suppress that building, damnit!” he ordered, and his ponies obeyed. Witch’s Brew’s coaxial machine gun began peppering the building’s second floor while the ponies who weren’t wounded went about laying down fire or tending to the wounded. It was only after he had set Divine down next to one of their escort Timberwolves that he finally started to feel his own pain again. She was lucky, the blast had taken her leg off clean and her suit wasn’t punctured; in fact, he noticed that every member of his team had shrapnel wounds, but no tiberium infection. “Guess we should consider ourselves lucky… guess the displays got the worst of it…” Gallant murmured as he slumped down next to Divine, only for the NCO to scoot away from him quickly. “Sarge…” she whispered. “Wha…” he started before looking down at his flank, his suit was ruptured and the tell-tale sign of crystal growth had already begun. The adrenaline was already wearing off and he could only get a single, panicked, devastating word out before the shakes and infection started to take their toll, a word that was drowned out by the storefront up the road exploding. “BREACH!”
HistoryHistory “... and that is why the Princess is elected now rather than being hereditary.” an earth pony stated plainly to the colts, fillies, griffons chicks, and changeling nymphs filling the desks in front of him as he sat at the back of the classroom, “Before The War, leadership was essentially just left up to the alicorns because they happened to be alicorns, though before the Tiberium Age, their leadership did have merit.” “What about Twilight?” one of the students asked, getting a short chuckle from the earth pony. “She was originally a unicorn and ‘earned her wings’ so to speak by creating new magic, so they bestowed some responsibilities to her before things… declined.” “Before tiberium.” another student chimed in. “Exactly. Now we have just a few more minutes before the bell rings so before we get into the War tomorrow, I need a volunteer to tell me the two main factions that fought…. Golden Apple?” “GDI and the bad guys.” the young farm filly stated matter-of-factly. “I… yes, GDI and the Brotherhood of Nod.” the teacher corrected, "We'll go into more detail about both sides tomorrow before the timeline of the conflict. For now, go ahead and pack up and when the bell rings you can leave.” With a gentle wave of his hoof, the lights turned back on and the projector shut off and once the students began putting their belongings away, he trotted leisurely to his desk at the front of the classroom. All the while, he ignored the holes being bored into the back of his head by some of his students accompanied by the barely audible whispers that stopped only when he walked by. Once he took a seat at his desk he had to refrain from letting out a sigh of relief when the bell rang and his students all galloped to go enjoy recess. Once clear, he ran a robotic hoof through his mane and slumped back into his chair. “Bad guys…” he mumbled bitterly, eyes lingering on his prosthetic limb as he let it rest on the desk. The Marked of Kane emblem had been polished off shortly after the war, but the construction was iconic to anyone who had survived the fighting and the inscription never truly went away. “Bad guys…” he repeated under his breath, sighing once more, “Fighting for freedom… fighting for friendship… equality.” He almost spat that word out, looking back up to the now empty chairs that had held the various races that made up this post-war world. The next generation of GDI was sitting in his classroom and they saw him as the enemy. He made no attempt to hide his past, an old photo taken of him and his unit before he became Marked was on the book shelf by his desk and the flag of both factions were hanging at the back of the room on either side of a tattered Equestrian flag. Impartiality was treated with contempt, and his service in both armies was vilified. “Let me guess, something a filly said got under your skin.” The female voice cut through his brooding like a laser through paper, bringing his attention to the doorway where a griffon was leaning against the frame. Like the stallion she was part machine, sporting wings of GDI make and a gleaming blue eye to contrast with her natural brown one that better matched her earthy plumage. “Well you know me, not much skin left so what’s left is really sensitive.” Inky Parchment deadpanned, gesturing to his remaining tan fur with a mechanical limb. The seriousness dropped quickly as a smirk turned into a chuckle, and soon enough they were both laughing. “So right on the head?” she asked. “It’s hard not to when we get to the War, Gena, I se-” “‘Served in both armies. Honorable service for what I thought was right!’ and all that. I’ve heard it before, Inky, and you can’t keep dwelling on it.” “At least let me get one monologue off this time.” he chided, standing up slowly and trotting over to her, “Lest I lecture our lunches and radicalize our water bottles.” That comment got another laugh, as well as a cautionary finger waggle from the griffon as they both began towards the teacher’s lounge. The last time he joked about that a colt worriedly told his parents that his teacher was trying to bring back Kane in the cafeteria, and neither of them wanted to get another talking to from the principal. “They’re still children, Inky, that’s why you’re here, to put something in their heads worth remembering.” Gena told him as they rounded a hallway corner, only to have to both sidestep to either side of the hallway as another stampede of fillies, colts, fledglings, and nymphs went running past with another teacher trotting behind trying to keep up. After the flood of screaming, giggling little ones passed by, Gena and Inky traded knowing smiles and started forward again. “Uh oh, someone sounds like a Conf-” “Don’t even think about it, I will tape a fake power button to your flank again.” “Oof, low blow.” Inky teased. The two veterans made their way to the lounge, enjoying their lunch and trading quips. They had always been the most comfortable with each other compared to the rest of the faculty, that bond of surviving a war rather than seeing it on the news kept them close despite the usual divide between history teachers and math teachers that seemed to always exist regardless of school. Their day was on track to be a normal one, but as always happens in institutions of learning, a vice principal sticking their head into the teacher’s lounge heralded a midday shakeup. Before he even spoke, Inky and Gena looked at each other with concern. “Mr. Parchment… uh…” he older mare whispered, her body language showing just how uncomfortable she was, “There’s been an incident in your room…” “Who’s been hurt? How can I help?” The cyborg replied instantly as he shot out of his chair. Before he could get too far he was stopped by a hoof on his shoulder. “No one, no one. However, there’s been a uh, graffiti incident.” the vice principal stated nervously, causing Inky’s shoulders to slump and Gena’s expression to fall. “Again…?” Gena asked, getting only a solemn nod. “Let me guess. They painted ‘Traitor’ on my door again.” Inky muttered, getting yet another nod. “If you want to call it quits for today, go home and recov-” “No.” “Mr. Parchment, there’s no weakness in setting boundar-” “Mrs. Quill, I appreciate it. I really do.” Inky said, his voice coming back to him as his mismatched eyes met hers, “But I’m not going to run away with my tail between my legs because a child acted on impulse. I won’t press charges, same as last time.” Vice Principal Quill was taken aback, but gave yet another nod before gesturing out of the teacher’s lounge. Gena was quick to follow after as they got to Parchment’s room to observe the graffiti, only for him to let out a barking laugh. “They misspelled it!” he exclaimed, “I guess I’m a tractor, not a traitor!” Mrs. Quill did her best to not engage, an effort that Gena didn’t even give thought to as she broke out into laughter as well, her light tones making her coworker smile. “I change my mind, I want whoever did this to have lunch detention for a week, and extra spelling homework. If they’re going to vandalize my room they should at least do it properly.” “You’re still not offended?” Mrs. Quill asked incredulously. “Of course I am. But I’m not destroying a student’s life because they did something stupid. They’re children, they make mistakes, we all did at their age, some more severe than others. Discipline them, let me teach them why what they did is wrong, but don’t get the courts involved… besides..” Inky told her, his firm tone softening a bit. With a smile he walked up to the graffiti, gesturing for Gena to pull her phone out and take a picture as he posed with the barnhouse red paint and let off a gleeful grin. “Whoever did this? They’re not entirely wrong. It’s always nice to have a backup job ready, and enough of me is metal that I could legally be classified as farm equipment.”
InfiltrationInfiltration It was darker than usual with the full moon obscured by a sand storm. She hated the sand, it always took days to get out of her kit and her mane, but the darkness? That was her friend and ally, about the only one she had left. Movement to her right made her freeze, stopping her crawl towards the GDI research facility she had been sneaking around and observing for the past 9 days, her cloaking field shimmering slightly, but only for a split-second. That movement turned out to be another patrol, more of the GDI Expeditionary Legion, more traitors. She scoffed, but the disdain only lasted as long as the shimmer of her cloaking field. She wasn’t exactly a loyal member of Nod, but circumstances kept her in their pocket until the next open war broke out… or until she finally died for real. “That’s it…” the pegasus whispered to herself, “Keep trotting along… nothing here.” Usually she’d be worried about detection, but the GDIEL was notorious for using outdated gear that was years behind the current Nod equipment. Had this been during the war, she would have been neck deep in railgun rounds, but Princess Twilight’s advances since the war ended had been extraordinary. Scanners swept over her and came up with nothing, even as the corporal leading the patrol looked right into her eyes without knowing, and the team kept moving along their patrol path. The moment they turned, she brought a small pistol out and lined it up with the flank of the rear-most private, firing. The release of CO2 was drowned out by the whipping of the sand around them, and the miniscule tracker went unfelt on the armor plating that the earth pony had on. Most importantly, a small number “9” appeared on her HUD, joining the other eight patrols that she had planted trackers on. Pleased with her progress, she keyed her radio. “Black Widow to Nest Actual.” the operative said quietly. “Go ahead Widow.” “Patrols are tagged, moving to infiltrate. Make sure you’re ready to go on my signal. Estimated exfil is… 0130.” “Copy that, Widow. Units are on standby. Good luck.” She cut the channel with that, scowling again. Luck had nothing to do with it, she was the best at what she did on either side of the battle lines. With her pistol holstered once more she started forward at a low crouch, sidestepping wire and other obstacles until she was pressed up against the outer defensive walls that lined the compound. Unlike the patrols, the turrets guarding this facility looked top-of-the-line; further evidence that this was the facility Twilight was looking for. “Expendable traitors outside, valuable regulars inside.” she thought, her wings quickly flaring to life and lifting her just far enough to slide over the top of the wall and slink into the shadow of a nearby motorpool. Lines of Pitbulls and Timberwolf APCs stood silent vigil, but the agent doubted half of them were even fueled up. This was a “safe” Green Zone assignment, even if it was within spitting distance of the civil war factory known as Saddle Arabia. Across from the motorpool she could make out an air traffic control tower and her scowl merely deepened. Air support would make extract annoying. Silently she slipped remote charges into the fuel tanks of a half-dozen of the parked vehicles, making sure to leave each recon buggy and APC just the way she found them before making her way towards the barracks. With practiced movements she strapped a trio of incendiary charges between the dome-like prefab structures and melted back into the shadows once all of her charges were showing their yellow status lights on her HUD. With her exit now half-guaranteed, her primary target remained and the Nod commando known as Black Widow silently moved from shadow to shadow until she was standing at a maintenance door for the research facility. A badge was needed to enter, as well as a retinal scan and hoof or claw scan. Usually this sort of thing would appear like overkill but if the Princess was right about what was in this facility, GDI was adopting some of the Brotherhood’s tendencies for subterfuge. Luckily for her, she had the best technology that Nod had to offer, and with a simple wave of her hoof, the jamming suite in her suit cracked through the various locks in seconds and let loose a viral worm into the building’s network. Once inside, she could hear the doors locks slam shut again through the thick metal of the door, and was assaulted by a cacophony from the monitoring equipment that she knew was waiting for her in the neighboring room from this hallway. She hadn’t heard any of this from outside, even with an ear to the door, meaning noise cancellation was part of the building’s design. A sinister smile graced her muzzle and she readied her sidearm, a silenced model commonly used by Shadows. Usually an automatic model, but she preferred a semi-automatic modification while enjoying the increased ammo capacity. With pistol in mouth, she moved into the laboratory and with one more test of just how soundproofed things were, opened up on the scientists working the night shift. Blood coated the windows, but nothing else came of it. Her virus had already snuffed out the alarm system and if anypony was watching the camera staring right at her, it was providing static. Most importantly however, was the external doors having their security lockdowns activated, locking everypony in the building with her. Until she wanted to leave, nothing would be getting out alive. With the night shift in this particular lab silenced, she started weaving through the hallways and stairwells, avoiding stairwells whenever possible and clearing every room she came across with brutal efficiency. Only when confronted with the facility’s research vault did she have reason to pause, casing it as best she could. Despite the wealth of information provided by the Shadow Corps about this base, this far into the facility there was no way of knowing what she would be running into. Those with access to the vault were most likely in the officers barracks sound asleep, and using brute force might damage the contents. With another wave of her hoof, the electronic security measures were deactivated and a proper scan was done of the vault door. Several inches of titanium stood between her and her prize, with a similar shell discouraging her from trying to get through the walls, and it was machined in a way that there were no seams to exploit where the door slid across the floor. With a sigh, she hefted a small glass cylinder with a metal head on one end and a strange liquid inside of it. While her viruses and cloaking were tried and tested, this experimental device only had Twilight’s guarantee that it would work on a GDI door that no one in the Brotherhood had ever cracked before. She holstered her pistol and activated the magnetic ring on the device with her snout before placing it on the door. Her visor automatically polarized further as a bright light was emitted from the cylinder, a laser drilling directly into the metal. Smoke filled the room but her helmet filtered it, and before long, the liquid inside of the cylinder started to empty into the door. Slowly, the nanites began eating through the locking mechanisms, only stopping when she noticed them chewing through metal and she hit the kill-switch. Opening the well-balanced door was easy after that, despite it having to weigh a few hundred kilos minimum. The agent looked into the vault with a self-satisfied grin and a hearty helping of relief that the Princess’ newest idea actually worked, both in chewing through the locks and with the kill-switch. More importantly, she had access to what GDI felt necessary to put state-of-the-art defenses around with the set dressing of Expeditionary Legion guards. Wasting no time, she sprinted over to the access console at the head of the vault full of server racks, and hacked in with little difficulty. Another worm spread through, but unlike the one ravaging the security systems, this one was intent on leaving no trace of what it was looking for. After nearly a minute of hoof-biting wait, the worm found what it was looking for and she copied all of the relevant files to her suit’s digital storage as well as a separate hard-drive being held in an ammunition pouch. Once taken, she hid all digital evidence of the intrusion, visibly downloaded some technical documents related to the original Titan program, and made a beeline for the outer doors. As she approached the exit, she brought up two icons on her HUD and activated them, and while she couldn’t hear anything inside, she was sure that the motorpool and the barracks had gone up in flames. Only when she got outside did she get confirmation of the presence of the other half of her exit strategy. A full-fledged battle was raging on the perimeter of the base as elite Black Hand troops assaulted the research outpost, lasers burning through the night and piercing the sandstorm that still raged. Tracers and railguns lanced back out at the unseen Nod force and no one noticed as a pegasus took to the sky away from the conflagration. Several hours later, the violet pegasus was brushing her black mane out of her face as Kane himself stood in front of her and the holotable that her hard-drive was plugged into. Twilight was poring over the wealth of data and Flurry Heart was staring at Black Widow the entire time as if waiting for a moment to strike. “Is it as we hoped, Princess?” Kane finally asked. “It’s buried deep in the data, but this does confirm that they’re holding it in ZOCOM Headquarters… now we just have to figure out how to steal it.” Kane nodded, his ever-confident grin coming back as his eyes met that of the commando who had delivered this news. “I know just who to ask.” Kane stated, and soon enough his grin was matched by Twilight and Flurry Heart. “Tell me Sakura…”Princess Twilight asked, “How would you like to go down in history as the mare who delivered the Tacitus to the Nod’s Messiah?”
