The Rise of Wrath

Diceroll slowly trotted up to the police barricade, where Long Shot, Salinear, and Erasalo were waiting. "You guys moniter that?"

Long Shot nodded grimly. "Yep. Looks bad. And who are we supposed to send that's 16 or under that we can trust?"

Diceroll smiled. "I don't know. Salinear, do you have any ideas?"

Salinear frowned. "Nope. I mean, I have all the requirements, but.... Oh."

Diceroll chuckled. "Alright, Sal. It'll be fine. We'll see if the police have any reinforced vests your size. Long Shot, go do that please. And Erasalo. Give the poor colt a headpiece. He won't be alone in there. I'll stay with him and give him some advice. Go!"

Ten minutes later...

Diceroll had to admit, Sal looked good in a police vest. The earpiece was almost invisible, and would provide him and Diceroll a way of communicating.

"Okay." Diceroll said slowly. "I need you to go in there and try to talk them out of killing anypony. Even better, try to force them to surrender. I'll be with you, don't worry. And if you're in danger, just say cheeseburgers one way or another, and we'll come in guns blazing. Got it?"

Sal nodded nervously. "I think so."

Diceroll grinned. "Alright. Go, and may all luck be with you."

With that, Sal slowly walked to the front door of the building, where the pair of SWAT nodded to him kindly, and one held the door open. Now it was up to Sal.

Sal walked into the dimly lit lobby. It was bland, with a reception desk the only real piece of furniture. That reception desk had been fortified by a pair of changelings, who instantly raised their rifles.

Sal, surprised, took a step back. Then, the changelings, realizing it was probably the negotiator, sighed in relief. Still, one held his gun straight while the other searched Sal for any weapons. When they found none, they pointed at an elevator to the left.

Sal, frightened (I mean, how could he not be!), walked up to the elevator, and pressed the up button.

A few moments later, the doors slid open, revealing a changeling equipped with an assault rifle. He beckoned Sal in, which he briskly obeyed. The changeling, once Sal was inside, pressed the button for the twelfth floor, the one just below the penthouse.

A minute later, the doors opened, revealing a long hallway in what looked like an office building. To the left and right were ways into offices, while the hallway led to another set of doors, which were guarded by four well armed changelings. Sal assumed that's where he needed to go.

As he trotted forward, he glanced behind some of the side doors' windows. Inside he saw several of the hostages, being guarded by several changelings. He noticed for the first time that the changelings in the building were far better outfitted then normal changeling troopers. Instead of the simple changeling breastplate and rifle, these changelings were decked out. They wore full black camouflage combat armor with a cloth mask that covered their mouths, like the terrorists in all those movies Sal had watched. And their weapons were no less fearsome. Instead of the normal light infantry rifle, these were armed with heavy rifles, assault rifles, specialized shotguns, hand cannons, and more. Two of the changelings guarding the far door were even armed with what looked like some portable machine guns. Sal, who had been with Diceroll and the 31st to know well enough changeling supplies were normally very minimal, wondered where they'd got it all.

After what felt like forever, he reached the end of the hallway. The changelings there let him him. Sal reluctantly trotted in, the door shutting behind him.

Inside was what looked like the conference room. A long glass table, plenty of chairs, and a window covering the entire far wall, where he could see the various different ponies outside wondering what will happen.

Sitting in the chair at the end of the table was a changeling in classic Honor Guard plate, Changeling armor that made standard officer armor look insignificant.

The changeling, hearing him enter, smiled and stood up. "Ah, you must be the negotiator. Have a seat." After Sal did so, the changeling licked his lips. "What's your name?"

"Salinear, but my friends just call me Sal. Yours?"

"Lieutenant Felon. You want a drink?"

Dicerolls confused voice came through the headset. "Did he just offer you a drink?"

Sal nodded. "Just water, thank you."

Diceroll nearly chocked through the headset. "And did you just....!?"

Fenris nodded, and tapped the intercom. "Could somepony out there get us two glasses of water? Thank you."

Diceroll cracked up. "Alright, that's one for the ages! Very intimidating, Felon!"

When the water did come, which it did after a few minutes of silence, Sal eyed it suspiciously.

Felon cracked a small smile. "Don't worry. I wouldn't poison somepony who my superiors want alive. Well, with those formalities over, we can get down to business. And yes, I know you have that little headset. So, what do they want to ask me, and I'll answer as truthfully as possible."

Diceroll, recovering from his surprise, shot one out.

"Where's the Admiral and Captain?" Sal asked slowly.

"Penthouse, listening to our talk over tea. Or, well, doing something while listening to our talk I suppose. Next question."

"How many changeling's are in this building?"

"Fifty three. A battalion along with the admiral, the captain, and myself. Next."

"How many troops are under the admirals command?"

Silence. Then, a chuckle. It turned into full blown laughter. "Ah, this is where I issue the menacing words. Fenris is right, it IS fun! Currently, under my admirals personal command, we have three dozen airships, four Zeppelins, and forty divisions. Each division in the changeling military is eight hundred capable troops. That's, what, thirty two thousand troops? Add that to the air craft, ground vehicles, and the fact we grow every day, your doomed! I'm done talking. Wait with the hostages until I need you again."

...

Diceroll sighed. "Just hang in there Sal. We'll figure something out."

"No you won't. I will be doing the descision making from here." came a familiar voice.

Diceroll sighed and turned around. "Major General Rainer. Good to see you."

The unicorn nodded. "I'm sorry to have misjudged your informants Diceroll. Again. Anywho, until more support arrives, I'm calling shots. Anything I should know Diceroll?"

Diceroll nodded. "We've got a pony in there negotiating. Oh, and they told me to tell you something about a click of a button and you win... And something.... Egg paste? No..."

Rainer bit his lip. "The push of a button? Diceroll, I don't know what you..."

"Eclipse! They mentioned something about an Eclipse!"

Rainer froze. "Um, Diceroll, that can't be correct. They must be joking if they think..."

Diceroll shook his head. "No sir. It was Eclipse. And what's wrong with that?"

Rainer sighed. "What you're about to hear is top secret classified information. You can't tell ANYPONY about it without my permission."

Diceroll looked at Erasalo, who shrugged. Then turning back to Rainer, he replied "We can keep a secret."

Rainer took a deep breath. "Eclipse is the codename for a top secret military project. Project Eclipse was made to create large-scale magic missile weapons, stuff that's absolutely massive. For the past year, they've been working on one thing in particular."

Diceroll frowned. "And what would that be?"

"The O.F.C. The Orbital Friendship Cannon. It's an orbital gun capable, at full power, to destroy a small city. And, it's controlled from the ground."

Diceroll paled. "You're suggesting..."

"Yep. They want us to call down an orbital round on that building, killing dozens of civilians, but minimizing our own loss. That's what they want."