Jane Doeby LimeyChapters%i% Betrayal%i% Direct hit!%i% Showdown at 2Fort%i% Untactical insertion%i% Private Spike%i% Setting up shop%i% Betrayal1 Betrayal The man staggered backwards as the burly soldier jabbed at the screen attached to his chest. "Then I guess you'd better take me to the gravel pit and shoot me, lady." He shouted at screen, the dark silhouette presented on it showing no change in attitude or emotion. "Cause if you ever ask me to kill my friend again, I will put my boot so far up your ass it will be on the news." The Administrator hesitated for a second, considering her options. Although she had threatened the Soldier with execution, she was not completely sure that was a cost or asset effective option. Blutarch had hand picked that soldier himself (one of the few things he still insisted on doing himself these days, same with Redmond) and would not be best pleased with TF industries if she did have him killed. No, angering Blutarch would not be beneficial, not at all, especially if she still wanted to milk the cash cow that was the endless war over the gravel pits that the two brothers insisted that they continued to fight over. "Whoever controls the gravel pits, controls everything" they told her. What they expected to find there, she had no clue, but as long as they kept the money flowing in, then she couldn't care less. What she did care about however, was the recent blossoming of friendship between the RED demoman, Tavish DeGroot and the BLU soldier, Jane Doe. Redmond Mann and Blutarch Mann had no clue that both their companies were employing the same administrative agency and if these two mercenaries did happen to talk about the 'Angry lady who's always screamin' at us while we fight', there would be hell to pay. Or maybe there wouldn't, the brothers were rather stupid. Anyway, that wasn't a risk that she was willing to make. Besides, she did always find it rather fun to mess around with the 'little men'. "That's not the option he took from his employers." She lied. Mr. Doe jabbed the screen again, causing the man to stumble back another couple of paces. "He agreed to kill me for weapons? Ha! I don't buy it, sister." "Listen for yourself." The feed changed from the silhouette of the Administrator to a still image of RED Demoman. *BZZT* I-WILL-KILL-THE-SOLDIER. *BZZT* *BZZT HE-IS-A-BAD-FRIEND. *BZZT* Jane scratched the back of his head, unsure of what to believe. The Administrator had never directly lied to him before. If she told him that the reds were capping the point, they were always capping the point, or if the bomb was nearing the checkpoint, then it always was. Though how she knew these things nobody knew. Engineer had a theory that she was controlling both teams from the sidelines, but Soldier had laughed and dismissed it as ridiculous. I mean, why on earth would she do that? But there was something fishy about this that Soldier couldn't quite put his finger on. "Ahhhh, but dammit - It doesn't matter what he said in that weird robot voice I've never heard him talk in before. Once you've taken a man out for whiskey and ribs, then fought him, then fought the police with him, well, you have forged a bond thicker than any soup you can buy. That's not girl talk either. That is just facts." Jane waved his hand at the screen dismissively and turned to face the back wall of his apartment. He'd had enough of this. "No deal, pumpkin. Find yourself another patsy." The Administrator smirked "I'd hoped we wouldn't have had to bring it to this, mister Doe." She pressed a large red button on her extensive control panel. *BZZT* HE-IS-NOT-A-REAL-SOLDIER. *BZZT* Soldier swung round, his astonished eyes fixed on the screen attached to the mans chest once again. *BZZT* HE-WAS-NOT-EVEN-IN-THE-ARMY. *BZZT* "He wouldn't" *BZZT* HE-IS-A-FRAUD. *BZZT* "He won't!" *BZZT* HE-IS-A-CIVILIAN. *BZZT* "Civ...Civilian? He promised he'd never..." Jane Doe just stood there, completely lost for words. He didn't know what to say. Tavish had sworn that he'd never tell a soul, and yet there he was, blabbing to the world. "How dare he!?" Screamed Soldier as his confusion turned to pure anger. He flew forwards and grabbed the man by his collar and threw him out of his apartment door. All logic and reason had flown from his helmeted head. The Soldier stumbled out of the door, his shotgun clenched in his hands. He pointed it at the leering image of his former best friend on the mans chest, who was currently groaning in agony, not registering the immediate danger he was in from the deranged gunman. "I earned every one of those medals I made! I did three goddamn tours of duty overseas, and I wasn't even asked! I paid my dues! And my plane ticket over!" I... He..." He turned his shotgun towards the midnight sky and fired. "He is a dead man!" Soldier skulked back into his apartment, not bothering to shut the door behind him. The man picked himself off the floor, having recovered from the pain but not quite from the shock. He began to back away. "What are you waiting for? Follow him in!" Said the Administrator. The man gulped and walked back into the doorway. Soldier was sitting in the corner of the room, drinking a cold can of tomato soup. His eyes had glazed over as he allowed the information he had been given to sink in. "I believe we have a deal, mister Doe." she said. She wasn't expecting an answer. "The first weapon we'll be sending you is a precision instrument. If you were blasting it around randomly, it would be useless to you. However, I think you'll find it useful for sharp-shooting specific enemies. Pauling, kill the feed, please." %i% Direct hit!2 Direct hit! The Administrator swiveled round on her chair, sniggering to her self. "Well, that went much better than planned, don't you agree, Miss Pauling?" She said as she lit another cigarette. "Oh yes, definitely!" nodded Miss Pauling over enthusiastically. She always tried to spend as little time in the control room as she possibly could. The amount of second hand smoke floating around in there was phenomenal. How the Administrator managed to talk without coughing every couple of seconds was a mystery to Miss Pauling, especially considering that fact that she never went five seconds without another cigarette in her mouth, even in her sleep. "Did DeGroot accept the deal?" "Oh yes." said Miss Pauling. "He looked like a kid in a toy shop when he first set his one eye on the eyelander. He seemed reluctant to accept at first, but a bit of lying about his friend's integrity soon fixed that." "Mann Co. never fails to impress." said the Administrator. She looked down at the the rocket launcher propped against the control panel. "Although I think this thing is missing something..." "The Direct Hit?" "Yes..." she said as she ran her fingernails across its surface. Pauling raised her eyebrow. "If you don't mind me saying ma'am, this is a rocket launcher. I think its safe to say that the Soldier has a fighting chance against the eyelander, which is a sword. A haunted sword, but a sword nonetheless." "He isn't supposed to only use the sword nitwit! That would be ridiculous! I mean, who would go into battle these days with only a sword and shield?" "Well..." "And as for the Soldier, he already has a rocket launcher, Miss Pauling. In fact, he has several. What we need to give him is something with a bit more, pizzazz. Something, that while may not be too effective, is an addition to his arsenal that he literally cannot get anywhere else." "Are you suggesting that we get him an unusual hat?" "No Miss Pauling, what I suggest is that we improve this weapon. And I think I know just the person to do it." The car came to a halt outside of the gates of the aging mansion, and two shadowy figures stepped out of the vehicle. One of them was wearing a short skirt, a purple top and a pair of designer glasses. The other was dressed from head to toe in a red, asbestos lined hazard suit, and wore black gas mask over his head. "You sure this is the right address?" queried Miss Pauling, looking down to check her trusty clipboard. "Huddda huh!" said Pyro, as he hefted his home made flamethrower and the Direct Hit out of the boot of the car. Miss Pauling shuddered. She had heard the stories about that maniac, about the way he watched men, burning and screaming in agony as their internal organs turned to ash, with the same kind of morbid fascination of a child pulling the wings off a fly. She wished that the Administrator had let her come with someone a little more level headed, like Spy, but she had insisted. After all, the man they were interested in lived in castle filled with ancient books. He would be much more likely to oblige to their demands if there was a flamethrower pointed at his collection. Pauling walked over to the drivers window. "You wait here. We shouldn't be too long. And remember, you didn't see anything." "No probs, Missus." said the driver, pulling out a copy of the Gravel Pit Times. He opened it, gave it a shake and began to read it intently. "Didn't see nuffink." Satisfied, Pauling walked back over to the iron gates that Pyro was testing for flammability with his lighter. Realizing that that the material that the gates were created from was non-combustible, he grunted and re-pocketed the lighter. Miss Pauling gave him a stern look. "Now remember. You're not here to set everything on fire, you're here to intimidate him, to threaten his books if he doesn't comply. He won't help us if you burn down his mansion within the first five seconds of arriving. Do I make myself clear?" "Hudduhh..." Without warning, the gates swung open ominously, as if by their own will. The pair advanced down the cobblestone path, flanked on either side by tombstones and overgrown shrubbery, Pyro twitching as he fought the urge to set them on fire. As the pair approached the huge front door, an unusual smell hit. "Is that, sour cream?" Miss Pauling knocked on the door. "Turn back now! Lest ye be cursed till next Tuesday!" "Mr Merasmus?" "That's lord wizard high mage of darkness Merasmus to you, welp!" "We're here on business! We were hoping you could...enchant something for us. That is what it said on your business card." "Punters? Wow, Merasmus' fortunes seem to be taking a turn for the better. One moment, my dear!" Pyro and Miss Pauling waited outside the door as the sound of multiple latches and padlocks being unlocked echoed around the dark moor. Eventually after five minutes, the doors swung open, revealing the tall and imposing figure of Merasmus. He wore a dark black cloak and a black scarf, coiled tightly around his neck like a boa constrictor. Across his right shoulder he wore a leather bag and across his left he wore a rope with three fish heads strung along it. In his right arm he held a large branch, forged in the fires of hell for over ten thousand years (Source: Merasmus himself), But the most unusual item in his varied apparel was a dirty old goat's skull sitting upon his wrinkled head, with a couple of eyeballs wedged in its sockets. "Cower fools! Merasmus is here!" screamed Merasmus, raising his arms into the air. Thunder crackled on cue in the distance. "Excuse me?" "Oh pardon me. Merasmus gets carried away sometimes." Miss Pauling and Pyro stepped inside into the castle foyer. The place was lit by a few flickering candles and there were cobwebs everywhere. "Please wipe your feet on the mat, but gaze not upon it! Tis cursed with the soul of a most terrible witch! Seriously, you do not want to mess with margret." Miss Pauling rolled her eyes. She didn't understand why the Administrator was wasting her time with this lunatic, but she did not question her. Pauling wasn't paid to question, she was paid to sort out the bills and do the dirty work. "Follow Merasmus! Don't touch anything!" "Hudda huh!" said Pyro enthusiastically. The trio walked down the dark hallway, the level of disrepair becoming more apparent the further they went. "Merasmus is regretful about the mess. Merasmus was expecting a smith today to upgrade the lighting, but the idle cretin Merasmus summoned did not turn up! Ohhh, he will pay for making wet gunpowder out of Merasmus, mark my words!" The unpleasant smell of moldy sour cream strengthened. "Ah, here we are mortals!" Merasmus pushed open a set of thick oak doors to reveal a magnificent library, stocked with books forgotten by mainstream history and science, books containing powerful spells and horrifying curses. Like the rest of the mansion, it was lit by a couple of candles and decorated with a wide variety of spiders webs. The most powerful books sat on pedestals scattered around the edges of the room. Such books could only be used by the most powerful magicians, for lesser mortals could do naught but succumb to their superior will. "Welcome to the grand library!" Shouted Merasmus, the room instantly illuminating with an eerie purple glow. A few of the books began to reshuffle themselves into different locations. Miss Pauling looked around the room with awe. She had known of the existence of magic for many years now, especially since many of the more unstable Mann Co. weaponry used it as a key component. However, none of the enchantments used could compare to the sheer level of eldrich power flowing around the room. She had severely underestimated this guy. She would not make the same mistake again. "So!" said Merasmus, turning back to his hosts and rubbing his hands with glee. "You wish for Merasmus to enchant a weapon, you say?" Miss Pauling nodded at Pyro, who offered up the rocket launcher he was carrying on his back towards Merasmus. "Ehh" grunted Merasmus, levitating the Direct Hit in-front of his face. He examined the weapon closely, summoning a leather bound notebook and pen to his side, which began to take down notes all by itself. Merasmus grunted again as he run his dirty fingernail along its surface. "Sorry." he exclaimed suddenly, telekenetically throwing the weapon back into the arms of Pyro, who only just managed to catch it. "Mphf!" "What do you mean, sorry?" Asked Miss Pauling frustratedly. "I mean I will not tamper with it." He waved his arm dismissively. "To tell the truth, Merasmus has not been keeping up to date with the modern weaponry. Much more of a traditionalist myself. If Merasmus did attempt to enchant this weapon, a whole host of anomalous calamities could occur. Besides, the destructive power of a cannon enchanted by the great Merasmus would be to much for a mere mortal." "Are you sure you won't give it ago?" "Yes, a wizard is always sure. Begone, troublesome pair, you have wasted enough of my time already." Miss Pauling sighed. "Well, if your sure..." She clicked her fingers towards Pyro who raised his flamethrower threateningly. "Hu hu hu hu!" laughed Pyro as he stalked towards the nearest bookshelf. The books ceased to shuffle themselves and scattered off in every direction, trying to find a place to hide from the deranged pyromaniac. "You think you can bully Merasmus like he's some cheap parlour magician?" Laughed Merasmus nervously. Pyro continued his advance on the bookshelf. "Leave now and Merasmus may spare your miserable life!" Pyro ignored him and took another step. "I will spare your miserable life, then!" Another step. Pyro tightened his finger around the trigger. "Enough!" Screamed Merasmus. "Fine, fine, I'll enchant your stupid rocket launcher!" Miss Pauling smiled and clicked her fingers. "Huhhhhhh? Hudda huh huh!" said Pyro angrily as he skulked back over to Miss Pauling's side. So close. "Glad we could come to an agreement, sir." Merasmus magically yanked the Direct Hit from Pyro's back. He leaned close to the side of his head. "I won't forget your face soon, microphallus. Pray that we never cross paths again." Merasmus turned dramatically, his huge cape billowing behind him. He approached one of the many pedestals scattered around the room. Upon it rested a leather bound book, which had the bizarre image of a monster eating a bomb on it's cover. "The Bombinomicon should provide me with the hexes needed to enchant this wretched weapon." He said, in a somewhat less enthusiastic way than he was speaking before. He swung round to face the pair. "Gaze not upon the Bombinomicon! Lest you would have your eyeball haunted for an eternity! Believe me, It wouldn't be the first time to happen." The wizard began to flick through the book, his eyes intently scanning each page for the enchantment he was looking for. Finally, he slammed his hand down on the right page. "Oh be quiet book, that didn't hurt! Ahem, here we are!" Holding the book in one hand and levitating the rocket launcher in the other, he began to utter the magic words. "Bazbo badabra!" He shouted. The Direct Hit flashed a bright turquoise colour as the spell struck, dark eldrich power flowing through it. Satisfied with his work, Merasmus turned back to the pair. He handed Pyro the rocket launcher carefully. "There, Merasmus has filled his side of the bargain." He held his hand open expectantly. "Now it is time for you to do the same." Miss Pauling threw a wad of American dollars into the wizard's hand. He began to flick through them greedily. "Anything we should know about the affects of this enchantment?" Asked Miss Pauling. Merasmus looked up at her. "Due to the outlandish nature of the enchantment, there may be a few unfavorable side affects, especially if the enchanted weapon comes into contact with another of its kind. Such oddities may include but are not limited to; Dimensional rifts, weapon jamming and an incurable addiction to pastries amongst other things. Other than that, the weapon should function the same way that it before, but benefit from a 10% damage increase. Would you like a receipt?" "No thanks, best to keep this unofficial" said Miss Pauling, taking notes down onto her clipboard. "Thank you for your services Merasmus. TF industries looks forward to working with you in the future." Miss Pauling and Pyro turned and walked out of the library, back towards the front doors. "Pah! Begone, heathen filth! Lest you drive Merasmus over the edge of his tolerance levels! Oh, and would you like me to inscribe my gmail address upon that parchment board for you? Merasmus is always open for business! ... As long as you don't bring him with you next time." %i% Showdown at 2Fort3 Showdown at 2Fort The Soldier glared out across the no-mans land of 2Fort, his mind deep in thought (deep for Soldier, anyway) about the showdown that was due to take place. If it wasn't bad enough that the double crossing drunkard had actually agreed to kill him for a weapon, but the fact that he'd decided to rub it in by announcing to the world that he was a civilian? That had pushed Soldier over the edge. He could almost hear the sniggering and whispering behind his back wherever he went. Whatever they had once shared, every road trip, every drunk night, every time they warned each-other about their respective teams movements so that they could find a better position or retreat (not that Soldier every did, being the honorable warrior he was) was now shattered into a million pieces. "You sure you want to do this, son?" asked Engineer as he fiddled with his construction PDA, making minor tweaks and optimizations to his sentry gun designs to fit the unique combat conditions of the battlefield. "For all you know, they could have snipers ready to blow your brains out the moment you pop your head out the doorway." "Then he's more of a coward than I remember him to be." said Soldier bitterly. "If I'm destined to get a 308. through my skull, then so be it, but that one-eyed rum dumpster will know in his heart that I have claimed the true victory this day." "If yuh say so... Good luck out there partner. Give the bastard some good old fashion frontier justice." "Thanks Engie." "No problem. Sentry goin' up!" "Soldier." Soldier turned to his left to see Spy standing there. That man had an uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere. "They have a couple of snipers ready on the 1st floor of the base, and several more gearing up in resupply. They seem to be holding back rather than waiting for targets though. The Demoman must have accepted your challenge." "Good work, France." "It could still be a trap though. pyros turned up before I could run a more detailed analysis." "Eh, don't you worry about it, tinhat." said Sniper. He was sat on the wooden floor, making the final necessary checks to his beloved sniper rifle, the main tool of his deadly trade. "One of those wankers even thinks about taking a popshot at ya and I'll drop em faster than a kangaroo's kick in the balls." "Appreciate it, sharpshooter." "I just want you to know Soldier, ah still feel sore 'bout you not tellin' us you had a friend in red. You coulda' severely compromised us without you even intending to." said Engineer coldly. "Sorry hardhat." Said Soldier. "It was unprofessional and unbecoming of a veteran warrior such as myself. Rest assured that I will not make the same mistake again." "Hell, that's good to know." Said Engineer. He rested the metal box that he was holding on the floor and stood back, once again pulling the construction PDA out of his pocket. He pointed it at the box. "Erectin' a dispenser." Soldier stepped out of the doorframe into the midday air, his entire form bathed in warm sunrays. He looked across the canal that marked the divide between BLU and RED territory. It was pretty amazing that the two most hostile companies in the world could hold bases so close to eachother. Legend has it that during the 10 minute truce between RED and BLU of 1907 (the first and last truce of its kind), both teams tried to set up bases as close to each other as possible so when the truce inevitably ended, they would be able to get down to the daily business of tearing a each-others throats as quickly as possible. With most of these so-called 'twin-bases', one team managed to capture the others side fairly quickly, combining the two halves into a much larger facility. However as with most conflicts between RED and BLU, neither side came out on top as they both managed to capture an equal number of bases. Strangely though, this was not the case with 2Fort. Neither side has managed to fully secure the site in the decades since the truce, and battles for supremacy take place there on a daily bases, both Bluarch and Redmond refusing to back down at a heavy cost in manpower and resources. Stretching across the canal was a wooden bridge, the main choke-point in which countless men had lost their lives. Soldier took position at his side of the bridge. He checked his new weapon, the Direct Hit, to see if everything was in order. He had to say that he was impressed by the precision of the weapon when he'd tested it out on enemy scouts earlier. "Tavish? Come out, you pathetic waste of human skin!" Jane saw a silhouette appear in the door-frame of the RED base. So, he had decided to turn up after all. He began to walk unsteadily towards the bridge. The black man wore a black beanie hat and an eye patch over his left eye, and had a short unkempt beard covering his chin. He wore a red jumper and red trousers, the same colour as the company he worked for, and over the top he wore thick body armor, in order to protect him from the explosions he set off around him on a routinely basis. In his right arm he held a massive sword, and in his left he held a bottle of alcohol, which he routinely took swigs from. "You couldn't even do me the respect of being sober." Spat Soldier. "Either way numbnut, I'm going to tactically insert my boot right up your ass for what you said about me." Demoman looked at Soldier. At first he was confused, But then a look of mild anger came over his face as he began to comprehend the situation. "It's on! Its on like! *burp* Wha?" Soldier fired the Direct hit at Demoman, the explosive expert managing to dodge the shot by some miracle. Soldier fired another three shots at him in quick succession, but once again each shot missed its mark due to Demoman's erratic movements. "ahahahahar!" Laughed Tavish, taking another swig of Scrumpy. "If you think you're better than me, you've got another thing coming! *burp*" He dropped the empty bottle to the floor and grasped the sword with both his hands. "Dammit dammit dammit dammit!" cursed Solider as he frantically began to load more rockets into the Direct Hit. "1...2...3..." "Yeeeeaaaaaarrrrrgggghhhh!" Soldier quickly rolled to one side as Demoman charged straight past him, the eyelander raised above his head. He slammed it down, lodging it into the wooden railing at the side of the bridge. Soldier spun round and landed a kick on Demoman's back. "Oof!" Soldier threw a punch, this time aimed at the Scotsman face, but it was caught by Demoman's hand. Having bought himself some valuable time, Demoman tugged harder at the eyelander, finally managing to pull it free from the railing before Soldier pulled his fist free of his grasp. Demoman grinned. At this ranged there was no chance of Soldier using his rocket launcher. It was his turn to be vulnerable. Demoman swung the eyelander down towards Soldier's head. Soldier tried to defend himself by instinctively blocking with the closest object to hand. The Direct Hit. As the two magical weapons made contact with each other, the entire surrounding area began to glow in a brilliant purple light. Sparks began fly around the immediate area and dark purple thunder clouds began to circle above the bridge like voracious alligators, voicing their hunger with growling thunder. "What the?" Soldier said before he disappeared in a white flash. Demoman looked at the place where his mortal enemy used to stand and scratched his head. A few of the wooden floorboards flashed and disappeared in a similar fashion. "I'm drunk." Concluded Demoman before dissapearing himself into a white flash. More and more of the bridge disappeared as the storm above began to grow even more violent. What was left of the bridge began to splinter apart and debris were thrown everywhere. Finally, the storm dissipated, along with the weakened bridge which collapsed into the canal. Splinters, nuts and bolt were scattered everywhere within a 1 mile radius. Engineer slowly poked his head back round edge the wooden wall, having pulled it in when the explosions had begun to get a little too intense. He pulled off his goggles and rubbed his eyes, taking in the what he had just seen in the past few minutes. He looked at Sniper, who was cowering behind a low wall, cradling his sniper rifle in his arms. The Australian turned to Engineer and shrugged, as if answering his confused stare. Engineer looked back at the remains of the devastated bridge. He whistled. "Hell, now ah've seen everything." %i% Untactical insertion4 Untactical insertion "Agh, my head!" The Soldier lifted his head slowly, turning it from side to side as he scanned the area. He appeared to be in some kind of forest clearing. How he had got there he had no clue. He could find out later. For now, he need to find out where exactly he was. He checked the strap across his chest. Grenades. Check. He formed a fist with his hand and knocked on his head. It gave off a loud clanging noise. Helmet. Check. Shovel. Check. Shotgun. Check. Rocket launcher. Rocket launcher? Soldier's eyes began to sweep the immediate area. Oh no, he can't of lost it, not already. He'd only had it a day. Soldier jumped to his feet and began to sweep the immediate area. He found he was indeed in a forest clearing, but it wasn't like any forest he'd ever been in. Broken planks and splinters were scattered everywhere, suggesting that when he had been sucked through to where ever he was, everything nearby had been sucked through too. Which meant he was here. Which gave him all the more of a reason to find this new awesome rocket launcher, and find it quick. He walked up to one of the trees and examined its trunk. It bark was gnarled and twisted in such a way that it looked as if it was bearing its sharp, barky teeth at him. "That's your war face? You don't scare me!" barked Soldier, trying to give himself a sense of familiarity in this strange place. He turned quickly as a feral howl in the distance snatched his attention. "Ugh." He grunted. "Sounds like trouble." He took out his shotgun and checked it. Full ammo. "That's as best a place to look as anywhere, eh heh heh." He cocked his secondary weapon violently and stalked off into the forest in the direction of the howl, the dark branches swallowing him up behind him. "Oh no!" Spike ran after the hot air balloon as fast as his stubby little legs could carry him. At least it gave him something to worry about, he thought. After Twilight had decided to give him the day off, he was sure that he would be able to have lots of fun, doing the things he'd always wanted to do but never had the chance due to all the chores Twilight gave him. But it seemed that he didn't have much that he wanted to do. In truth, Spike loved to help his friends, despite moaning about it sometimes, and felt empty inside when none of them wanted his help. Also, the voice in his head may have been exaggerating a little when it told him that he never got to do what he wanted. The only other thing he really did was sleep, and that wasn't very interesting at all. After spotting the hot air balloon in town, he quickly ran over too it, deciding that it would be a fun thing to do. He had always enjoyed flying, despite being a wingless dragon. He guessed a love of feeling the wind in your scales was something built into every dragons base instincts. Unfortunately, Spike had been a little over enthusiastic, and managed to release the balloon from its mooring, sending it drifting deep into the Everfree forest, one of the most dangerous locations within the borders of Equestria. Due to his single mindedness to catch the balloon however, Spike had not noticed this, and after somehow managing to catapult himself onto the balloon's mooring rope from Big Mac's apple cart, he found himself in the heart of the dark forest. "Whoa, that was a close one." Sighed Spike as he tied the rope to a nearby branch. Slowly, he began to look around, taking in his surroundings. He gulped. "If I didn't know better, I would swear I was in the middle of the dark and scary Everfree forest." He heard an angry howl frighteningly close to where he was standing. He jumped. "What was that?!" "C'mon Spike. Just because this forest is full of wild, dangerous animals, doesn't mean your gonna see one!" He said, trying in vain to comfort himself. He heard another howl, this time closer still. The prospect of not bumping into one of the wild, dangerous animals of the Everfree forest was becoming thinner by the second. All of a sudden a foul odor hit his nose. Being a dragon, Spike had a very well attuned sense of smell, and this only amplified the unpleasantness of it. He spluttered and stumbled backwards, trying to escape the visible green stink assaulting his nostrils. He tripped over what seemed to be a small branch, falling on to his rear. As he drew his eyes towards the 'branch' he had tripped over, it became apparent that it was not in fact a branch at all, as it was attached to the gnarled body of a Timber Wolf, the Everfree forest's most notorious pack predators. Many unprepared ponies had become snacks to these foul creatures in the past, and while they may not be the largest or most deadly individually, they were certainly the most intelligent, using teamwork to hunt down their prey in large packs. They were also well known for their revolting breath. The creature snorted into Spike's face. "aaaahhhhahahahaaaaahhhhh!" Screamed Spike as he ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction. The wolves instantly giving pursuit of their new-found prey. They had not sampled the taste of dragon before, for obvious reasons. Spike ran out into a clearing, looking for any possible way to evade his pursuers. Strangely, there were bits of wood and metal scattered everywhere. Much of the small pieces of metal were molded into strange shapes and the wood was of a strange variety that was certainly not found anywhere within a hundred miles of here. But he could worry about that later. He heard the sound of angry barking very close to his ears. If he was still alive that was. He ran behind one of the larger chunks of wood, trying to make himself as small as possible. He noticed a large, metal cylinder beside him, with strange components jutting off of it. It was very smooth, and was obviously some kind of tool, though what it was used for, he had no idea. It looked kind of like a telescope. 'Mann Co.?' Spike froze as he heard the sound of sniffing on the other side of the piece of wood. Dragons weren't the only ones who had a good sense of smell, and Spike was sure that sooner or later, they would sniff him out of his hiding place. He crawled over to the cylinder to inspect it closer. Who knows, it might just help him get out of this mess. 'Oh, I wish Applejack was here.' Spike ran his claws along the weapon. It appeared that the components on its underside were handles. He tried to heft the cylinder on to his shoulder. It must have been twice the size of him! One of the wolves gave a surprised whimper, as it picked up his scent. Spike noticed that there was, in fact, a mini telescope attached to the side of the weapon. He peered into it. He noticed that there were some kind of markings on the lens. Crosshairs! This must be some kind of cannon! Perfect! Spike had read a book about Equestrian warfare when he was bored in Twilight's library. Cannons were massive weapons that were used to fire large balls of cast-iron at enemies. They were usually found on castle battlements or on the back of wagons (mostly on castle battlements though, it had been centuries since Equestria had been involved in a proper full-scale war.) Such weapons were horrifically powerful, and they were seldom used in anything but the most desperate confrontations. This weapon appeared to be much smaller than a normal cannon, suggesting that it was meant for claw-held use. Speaking of claw held use, the weapon was clearly not designed for use by ponies. There was no way Twilight could fire this thing. Perhaps it was meant for use by diamond dogs? Also, the weapon smelt of a weak magic. That in itself was not unusual, many weapons used by the royal guard were enchanted to improve their efficiency and power. However, something about the smell of this magic was strange. The smell was faint, due to the magical power being drained, but the smell was still there. It smelt of sour cream and rotten fish. One of the timber wolves began to scratch at the chunk of wood Spike was hiding behind. He yelped, prompting his pack mates to help him. The air was filled with the sound of wood scratching on wood. "Well Spike, here goes nothing." Spike grabbed the top of the chunk, his other hand clutched firmly around the mini-cannon. He attempted to vault on to the top, but due to the weight of the weapon and Spike's lack of physical strength, he settled for dragging himself up slowly. Thankfully, the wolves didn't notice. Spike dug his feet into the wood, bracing himself for the inevitable recoil. He pointed the mini-cannon vaguely towards the middle of the pack of Timber wolves. "Hey you! Over here!" At once the wolves heads shot up to face Spike, their eerie green glowing eyes revealing an insatiable hunger. The lead wolf gave a satisfied grunt and licked his lips. "Come and get it!" Spike pulled the trigger of the weapon, launching a large chunk of metal out of the end of the weapon, leaving a trail of fire as it went. Unfortunately, Spike missed his mark, instead hitting a nearby tree, blowing the things into mere wood shavings in an instant. "Whoa!" shouted Spike as he was thrown back into a steep cliff face. He grunted, slowly pulling himself to his feet. He looked over to the weapon, which had slipped out of his hands as he was launched through the air. Noticing that their prey had lost its toy, the Timber wolves began to circle Spike again, quickly recovering from the initial shock of the blast. "Please, someone help!" Screamed Spike. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable end. He hoped that it would be quick and painless. But the end never came. "AAAaaaAAAaaaAAAAHHHH!" *BOOM* *Click-click* Spike opened his eyes to see that the Timber wolves were no longer focused on him. Instead, they had there eyes glued to the large, tall bipedal figure that had just crashed into the clearing. Laying at its feet was an unlucky Timber wolf, its head reduced to wood chips, its body spasming sporadically as the last of its life force seeped out of it. "I've faced rodents more fearsome than you, twiggy!" At once, the remaining Wolves leapt at this unusual creature, seeking to avenge the unexpected death of their pack mate. The creature leveled an odd looking stick towards the Timber wolves with it's monkey like hands and fired, The end of the stick blossoming into fire. Splinters exploded out of another Timber wolf's chest, causing the creature to yelp in pain and fall limp to the floor. The figure fired again at another wolf, this one loosing its head in a cloud of sawdust. "Maggots!" The two remaining wolves that had stayed back looked on at the unfolding battle in horror. As the last of their pack brothers crashed to the floor, they felt the attention of the strange creature fall to them. He leveled his stick. *Click* *Click* The creature looked frustratedly at his weapon. "Dammit." Sensing his confusion, the two Wolves grinned menacingly. This creature would pay for what he had done to their brothers. They began to advance towards him, snarling menacingly. The creature pulled out what appeared to be a shovel from his back, holding it in front of his body defencivley. The first Wolf jumped, its teeth bared, its mind focused on its objective of tearing out the creature's fleshy throat. The creature swung his shovel up to meet the chest of his enemy, knocking the wind out of him and sending him skidding off to the left. "Boo-yah!" The second Wolf, having snuck round behind the creature while it was distracted, leapt on to the creatures back, and proceeded to bite the back of his neck viciously. The creature yelped, and began slamming his shovel against his back, a few of his hits missing the Wolf and clanging off his steel helmet. After 1 minute of constant bashing and manly screaming, he finally stopped, allowing the long-dead Timber Wolf to drop ungracefully to the floor. He looked over to the trembling dragon. "What's the matter kid? Never seen a hairless ape before?" %i% Private Spike5 Private Spike "You saved my life!" Shouted Spike, running over to the 'hairless ape' that had single handedly wiped out an entire pack of Timber Wolves. Under normal circumstances, Spike would be slightly worried at the potential threat, but the only thing going through his head was sheer relief and gratitude. He grabbed the creature's leg and hugged it affectionately. "Don't get used to it." said the creature, shaking his leg to dislodge the baby dragon. Spike fell to the floor with a thump. "Where's my rocket launcher?" "Oh, you mean your cannon? Here it is!" said Spike, rushing over to the Direct Hit. He hefted it into his arms and struggled back towards the creature. It smirked. "Little guy aren't you? Thanks." Said the creature, snatching the weapon out of Spike's claws and slinging it's strap over his shoulder. Satisfied that the weapon was secure, he bent down to pick up his his Reserve Shooter shotgun. "Sometimes I wonder why I use this damn thing." The creature looked down towards Spike again. The dragon was looking up at him, his eyes wide with awe and respect. "Something wrong?" "You...saved...my...life." Spike ran over to the creature and grabbed his leg again hugging it tightly. The creature looked both ways to make sure no one was there and sighed. Even the hardened veteran had to admit, it was kind of cute. "You got a name, kid?" Spike gulped. "Spike. Name's Spike." He let go of the creature's leg and stood up straight, trying to make himself look impressive. "I'm a dragon." "Bit small for a dragon, aren't you?" Spike looked down glumly. "Yeah, well I'm only a ba- I mean, I'm only a young dragon." The creature turned away from Spike and sniffed the air. Something didn't smell right about this place. The air smelt too fresh. He was definatley a long way from home. "I bet Merasmus has something to do with this..." "So, uh, what's your name?" Soldier turned back to Spike. "My name?" The Creature grunted. "Since you do not have the authority to know my actual name, you may call me the Soldier." Spike's eyes lit up. "You're a Soldier?!" "Damn right I am." Spike had always dreamed of being a hero, and what could be more heroic than being a soldier? Risking your life on a daily basis on the battlefield to defend all you loved and cared about, marching through the streets in your bright uniform, taking in the noise of the cheering crowds. "Could you teach me to be a Soldier too?" The Soldier took one look down at Spike and snorted. "No." He turned back towards the forest and started walking. Spike gave chase. He wasn't going to give up that easily. If this guy could teach Spike to become brave warrior, Rarity would be sure to be impressed! "Aw, c'mon, where you going?" "I need to set up a camp, find the nearest village or town and get my bearings. Army stuff." Said Soldier carefully. Not actually being in an official army had left him unprepared for this kind of thing. Most of what he did outside basic combat was trial and error. "I can show you where Ponyville is!" "Negatory. I do not need your help, lizard." Aw, please, give me a chance! I'll do anything! I'll clean your boots, polish your weapons, I'll follow your every order to the letter, just please give me a chance to be a hero like you!" "Hmmmm" Thought Soldier. He rubbed his chin. Soldier looked down upon the castle that sat before him, the last enemy bastion in existance. If the United States of Soldier could take this fort, they would have conquered the entire world. "General Doe, Sir! We have the enemy stronghold surrounded!" Came the booming voice of Color sergeant Spike, The impressive dragon a product of years of grueling military training. "Good work, Sergeant!" Grinned Soldier. "The troops are ready to attack on your command, Sir. All you have to do is give the order." Soldier looked over his army, a mass of blue trench-coat clad purple dragons, unflinching in the face of the enemy guns, which continued to pound their ranks from within the safety of the castle. The cowards. The Soldier lit a cigarette and drew it to his lips. He brought his rocket launcher to his shoulder, steadying it. No general should fear front line duty, he thought. The enemy bombardment grew more intense, but still, his perfectly trained troops did not yield. It was time. "Charge" He whispered. "CHARGE!" Screamed Spike, waving a huge ornate banner with a likeness of the Solider's face emblazoned upon it. The troopers gave a terrifying battle cry and charged forward, their characteristic rocket launchers blazing like the 4th of July, sending down a hail of explosive warheads upon the castle walls. Within minutes the walls had crumbled to dust, leaving- "Soldier, are you still there?" said Spike, tugging on the bottom of the Soldier's trench coat. Soldier looked down at Spike (again), grinning manically. "That's General Jane Doe to you, private!" Spike's eyes lit up. "You'll do it?!" He said, barley able to contain his excitement. "Do not speak without my permission, private! Now, down and give me twenty!" Desperate to impress, Spike looked around eagerly, and then at Soldier with a puzzled look on his face. "Permission to talk, sir?" "Spit it out then, private!" "Twenty what?" Soldier groaned. He really had his work cut out if he was ever going to make a man out of this lizard. "Twenty push ups! Here, let me show you." He threw his rocket launcher to Spike, who only barely caught it. Soldier dropped to the ground and began to do some extreme push ups, eager to show this kid exactly what he had let himself in for. "Oh, and sir?" Wheezed Spike, strugging under the weight of the giant metal weapon. "What now, private?" Said Soldier, beginning to get rather annoyed with the constant flow of questions. "Isn't Jane a girl's name?" "Dammit." %i% Setting up shop6 Setting up shop "Come on, sunshine! Knees higher! Higher!" Shouted Soldier at Spike, who was jogging just ahead of him. The pair were traveling down one of the few muddy paths that went through the Everfree forest, flanked on either side by the tall, intimidating trees. "So, where exactly are we going sir, if not to Ponyville?" Asked Spike between labored breaths. He definatley was not used to this much exercise in one go. "Why on earth would we need to go into town? To get a some cakes and muffins?" said Soldier sarcastically. Spike licked his lips, not picking up on Soldier's undertone. "Oh yeah, that sounds good." Completely unannounced, Soldier grabbed Spike by the scruff of his neck and lifted him off of his feet, the dragon's legs still moving. He swiveled him around so that he could stare into his eyes. "Do you want to be a Soldier, private?" He asked menacingly. "Yes, yes sir!" Gulped Spike, a strange mixture of fear and confusion running though his mind. "This is not a tea party, private! This is war!" Screamed Soldier, spittle flying out of his mouth and onto Spike's face. He dropped the dragon to the floor with a thump. "You're going to have to learn private Spike, the easy or the hard way, that Soldier's do not need cakes! They do not need crisps! And they do certainly not need muffins! Those are luxuries private, and we can not afford luxuries at the moment!" The Soldier reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick, stubby, dirty looking stick. He waved it in Spike's face. "You see this private? This is my last stogie! Wrapped in old band aids, it is made of gravel, horse manure, human hair and taco seasoning." "Eww." Grimaced Spike. "Do you know what happens when I use this thing up? It. Gets. Used. Up. Private, that's what! I doubt there is another decent cigar within a hundred miles of this place!" He prodded the cigar against Spike's snout. "With all due respect sir, tobacco has been scientifically linked to respiratory illnesses." said Spike. "And with all due respect, private twinkletoes, cakes and muffins have been scientifically linked to making you into a good-for-nothing fatass! The point is private, is that this is my luxury, and it is nearly all gone!" Screamed Soldier. "Does that mean I can have one muffin?" "NO! I am the commanding officer here, so that means I get more than you anyway! Now, errr, give me 20 pull ups off that branch!" Said Soldier. "But how- whoa!" Said Spike as Soldier lifted him up to the branch. Not wanting to be dropped on the floor again, Spike instantly grabbed hold of the branch. "Up! Down! Up! Down! We haven't got all day private!" Spike pulled his head towards the branch, sweat pouring down his head. He felt as if his arms were going to snap under the strain. After pulling himself up and down ten times, he noticed that Soldier, having lost interest long ago, had continued to walk down the path, leaving Spike hanging. "Hey! You cant just leave me here!" "Quit whining private and swing!" "But-" "Swing!" Spike began to swing his legs back and forth, building up motion as he prepared to jump to the next branch. His eyes locked onto it, his mind making crude calculations on whether he could make it. He reckoned he could. Spike swung forward and let go of the branch. *Thump* Turns out he couldn't. Spike pulled himself out of the mud and ran to catch up with Soldier, who had succumbed to smoking his cigar. "If I had a dollar for every time you landed on your ass today I'd be a rich man, private." He mumbled. "Yes sir." Moaned Spike. Soldier was right. It was really beginning to get sore now. "Ah ha!" Said Soldier suddenly. "Here we are!" Before them was a clearing in the forest, a little larger than the one they had met in, at least several acres. In the center of the clearing was an old derelict cottage, which had obviously been abandoned long ago. Next to the entrance was an old signpost, the original sign itself resting at its base. Spike squinted as he tried to make out the faded writing. Welcome to Su "Welcome to Su? If only the rest of the sign hadn't been snapped off!" Soldier however didn't notice Spike's problem, rubbing his hands together with glee. "Perfect!" "Um excuse me sir," Said Spike. "Yes private?" Said Soldier as he surveyed the land before him. "How did you know this would be here? I mean, I've never heard of it, and I pretty much live right next to the Everfree forest!" Soldier waved his hand dismissively. "I didn't." He began to jog down the muddy old path that led up to the abandoned dwelling. "Come on private!" Spike shook his head. They could have been wondering around in the Everfree for days if this clearing hadn't happened to have been at the side of the path. Spike had serious worries about this guys mental health. He jogged over to the Soldier, who was examining the cottage door. Also, there was something not quite right about this place. It seemed a little too idilic, especially for the Everfree forest. "This place must've been abandoned years ago." Observed Spike. Soldier grunted in agreement as he ran his finger along the frame. He tried the handle. "It's locked." He said, taking a single pace backwards. He cracked his knuckles and looked at Spike. "Stand back son." Soldier raised his boot and slammed it against the door, splintering it into little pieces. Pushing the little remains that were still attached to the handle aside, he stepped into the cottage, Spike following tentatively. Every surface in the cottage was covered in a thick layer of dust. It was apparent it had been abandoned for a very long time, as mould had gotten to the wood and moisture collected in puddles all over the floor. Most of the walls were covered in a peeling yellow wallpaper, patterned with an image of a playing filly. Spike heard the sound of cupboards being forced opened in the kitchen. "The spoils of war!" Spike shook his head and wandered into the living room of the cottage. The air was thicker here, and smelt of heavy smoke. Spike coughed. He could still hear Soldier rummaging around in the kitchen. The room itself was relatively featureless. There were no windows , a fireplace at the far end of the room, and two benches facing said fireplace. "I guess it gets pretty cold out here." said Spike. The ceiling and the wall in which the fireplace was installed was burned a deep black colour, suggesting that there had been a fire here. Ash littered the room. Spike noticed a shiny piece of glass laying half buried in the ash. Hey, what's this? Spike bent over to examine it more closely. It was a magnifying glass, its lens cracked, and its casing warped by heat. Spike took a deep breath and blew, to try and clear some of the thick layer of ash away from the ground to see if he could find anything else. He did. The burnt skeleton of a young pony. "Gahhh!" cried Spike, jumping backwards. "What is it now, private?" Grunted Solider, his arms warped around a huge collection of tinned food, some of it dropping to the floor as he stumbled along. "It's a d-dead body!" Quivered Spike. Of course he had seen skeletons before, but never anything too recent or up close, usually just diagrams from Twilight's books, of ponies that had lived thousands of years ago, much too distant from the present for Spike to feel anything from. But this... there had only been one documented death (other than old age) in Ponyville and the surrounding area for at least a decade from what the police station records show, and even then it had been more of a missing pony case. Soldier whistled. "Burnt to a crisp! Pyro would be proud. C'mon private, you'll be seeing a lot more of those if you're serious about being a proper soldier, and if your anything like me, most of them will have been made by you! Though, that aint too likely with a stomach like that." "Hey, I can handle it!" "Good to hear private, now come out here and help me with these provisions!" said Soldier, stepping outside. Spike followed. Would he really be able to kill somepony else if he needed to? Nah, it probably wouldn't come to that, unless this guy really was hellbent on conquering Equestria, which Spike doubted. Besides, he was only really doing it to prove that he could be a hero, and maybe impress Rarity. Oh, Rarity. I bet she would be very impressed with him. He could see it now, marching down the streets of Ponyville in his immaculate uniform, a lance in one claw, the severed head of a ferocious dragon in another, his loyal troops (he was sure Jane would promote him eventually) marching behind him, the citizens of Ponyville cheering him. Spike! Spike! Spike! And Rarity would be standing in front of him, fluttering her... The vision was ruined by a can of tomato soup landing on Spike's head. Soldier looked around him, a few more cans falling to the floor every time he moved. "Uhhh..." Soldier wasn't really the best known for thinking things through. "Wait here." He said and ran back inside. After much clanging he emerged again, with a bucket of pink paint in one hand, and an old hairbrush in the other. "Private! You stand before the first bastion of the United States of Soldier, Fort Victory!" cried soldier passionately. "From now on, this will be our main base of operations, from where we will plan our conquest of this pathetic nation! Now, fetch me a step ladder!" "Pink? was that the best color you could find? You really do like girly stuff, don't you General Jane Doe?" Smirked Spike. "Private?" "Yes?" "Do you value your reproductive organs?" "Sorry sir." Rarity sat at her sewing machine in the center of the Carousel Boutique, the interior looking even more chaotically organized than normal. Her shimmering blue eyes were set firmly on the piece of fabric in front of her, and she didn't even so much as take her eyes off it to blink. She was working on a new dress for Twilight, and it was important that she got it right to the last detail. She always took any work regarding her friends very seriously. "Rarity!" "Gah!" Rarity swung round quickly, grabbing a large piece of material and throwing it over the sewing machine and the incomplete dress. "Twilight! How nice to see you!" She said, grinning awkwardly. "Rarity?" Said Twilight, looking around the room in dismay. "Have you seen Spike?" "Spike? Noo..." said Rarity. "Why, have you lost him again?" "He's not some kind of dog, Rarity! I just thought he might be in here helping you." Said Twilight, walking round the room and scanning for any sign that the dragon might be hiding like a searchlight. "You see, I told him he could go out for the day having finished his chores, but he hasn't come home. I mean, usually he just comes back after half an hour because he cant think of anything to do!" "I'm afraid I haven't seen Spike all day" said Rarity. There was a rustling from the other-side of the room beneath some sheets of fabric. "Spike?" Said Twilight quietly. She slowly edged towards the rustling piece of fabric. 'Oh no.' Thought Rarity. "Um, Twilight he really isn't here, I swear! perhaps you'd be better off asking Rainbow Dash where he is. You know how he's been recently with this whole ridiculous 'hero' thing." "Just a minute, Rarity" Said Twilight, stalking towards the piece of fabric like a predator, her eyes narrowing. "Gotcha!" She said as she leapt onto the fabric. Rarity couldn't watch. Her surprise dress ruined for sure! "Yeaowch!" "Rearwl!" Twilight stumbled back in pain, the large, fluffy form of Opal clinging on to the end of her face with her vicious claws. Twilight used her magic to grab Opal by the scruff and fling her out a nearby open window. Rarity sighed loudly in relief. "Meow!" "Well, that's the mystery of the rustling fabric sheet cleared up!" Said Rarity. Normally she'd be worrying about the health of her beloved cat, but all she could feel was relief that Twilight hadn't discovered her surprise dress. She'd attend to Opal later. "If I see Spike you'll be the first to know, darling!" Said Rarity, careful not to push her good luck. She used her Telekinesis to shove Twilight towards the door. "But!" Protested Twilight. "Ok! Thank you! Ta ta darling!" Said Rarity as Twilight was promptly thrown out the door of the Carousel Boutique and the door slammed behind her.
%i% Betrayal1 Betrayal The man staggered backwards as the burly soldier jabbed at the screen attached to his chest. "Then I guess you'd better take me to the gravel pit and shoot me, lady." He shouted at screen, the dark silhouette presented on it showing no change in attitude or emotion. "Cause if you ever ask me to kill my friend again, I will put my boot so far up your ass it will be on the news." The Administrator hesitated for a second, considering her options. Although she had threatened the Soldier with execution, she was not completely sure that was a cost or asset effective option. Blutarch had hand picked that soldier himself (one of the few things he still insisted on doing himself these days, same with Redmond) and would not be best pleased with TF industries if she did have him killed. No, angering Blutarch would not be beneficial, not at all, especially if she still wanted to milk the cash cow that was the endless war over the gravel pits that the two brothers insisted that they continued to fight over. "Whoever controls the gravel pits, controls everything" they told her. What they expected to find there, she had no clue, but as long as they kept the money flowing in, then she couldn't care less. What she did care about however, was the recent blossoming of friendship between the RED demoman, Tavish DeGroot and the BLU soldier, Jane Doe. Redmond Mann and Blutarch Mann had no clue that both their companies were employing the same administrative agency and if these two mercenaries did happen to talk about the 'Angry lady who's always screamin' at us while we fight', there would be hell to pay. Or maybe there wouldn't, the brothers were rather stupid. Anyway, that wasn't a risk that she was willing to make. Besides, she did always find it rather fun to mess around with the 'little men'. "That's not the option he took from his employers." She lied. Mr. Doe jabbed the screen again, causing the man to stumble back another couple of paces. "He agreed to kill me for weapons? Ha! I don't buy it, sister." "Listen for yourself." The feed changed from the silhouette of the Administrator to a still image of RED Demoman. *BZZT* I-WILL-KILL-THE-SOLDIER. *BZZT* *BZZT HE-IS-A-BAD-FRIEND. *BZZT* Jane scratched the back of his head, unsure of what to believe. The Administrator had never directly lied to him before. If she told him that the reds were capping the point, they were always capping the point, or if the bomb was nearing the checkpoint, then it always was. Though how she knew these things nobody knew. Engineer had a theory that she was controlling both teams from the sidelines, but Soldier had laughed and dismissed it as ridiculous. I mean, why on earth would she do that? But there was something fishy about this that Soldier couldn't quite put his finger on. "Ahhhh, but dammit - It doesn't matter what he said in that weird robot voice I've never heard him talk in before. Once you've taken a man out for whiskey and ribs, then fought him, then fought the police with him, well, you have forged a bond thicker than any soup you can buy. That's not girl talk either. That is just facts." Jane waved his hand at the screen dismissively and turned to face the back wall of his apartment. He'd had enough of this. "No deal, pumpkin. Find yourself another patsy." The Administrator smirked "I'd hoped we wouldn't have had to bring it to this, mister Doe." She pressed a large red button on her extensive control panel. *BZZT* HE-IS-NOT-A-REAL-SOLDIER. *BZZT* Soldier swung round, his astonished eyes fixed on the screen attached to the mans chest once again. *BZZT* HE-WAS-NOT-EVEN-IN-THE-ARMY. *BZZT* "He wouldn't" *BZZT* HE-IS-A-FRAUD. *BZZT* "He won't!" *BZZT* HE-IS-A-CIVILIAN. *BZZT* "Civ...Civilian? He promised he'd never..." Jane Doe just stood there, completely lost for words. He didn't know what to say. Tavish had sworn that he'd never tell a soul, and yet there he was, blabbing to the world. "How dare he!?" Screamed Soldier as his confusion turned to pure anger. He flew forwards and grabbed the man by his collar and threw him out of his apartment door. All logic and reason had flown from his helmeted head. The Soldier stumbled out of the door, his shotgun clenched in his hands. He pointed it at the leering image of his former best friend on the mans chest, who was currently groaning in agony, not registering the immediate danger he was in from the deranged gunman. "I earned every one of those medals I made! I did three goddamn tours of duty overseas, and I wasn't even asked! I paid my dues! And my plane ticket over!" I... He..." He turned his shotgun towards the midnight sky and fired. "He is a dead man!" Soldier skulked back into his apartment, not bothering to shut the door behind him. The man picked himself off the floor, having recovered from the pain but not quite from the shock. He began to back away. "What are you waiting for? Follow him in!" Said the Administrator. The man gulped and walked back into the doorway. Soldier was sitting in the corner of the room, drinking a cold can of tomato soup. His eyes had glazed over as he allowed the information he had been given to sink in. "I believe we have a deal, mister Doe." she said. She wasn't expecting an answer. "The first weapon we'll be sending you is a precision instrument. If you were blasting it around randomly, it would be useless to you. However, I think you'll find it useful for sharp-shooting specific enemies. Pauling, kill the feed, please."
%i% Direct hit!2 Direct hit! The Administrator swiveled round on her chair, sniggering to her self. "Well, that went much better than planned, don't you agree, Miss Pauling?" She said as she lit another cigarette. "Oh yes, definitely!" nodded Miss Pauling over enthusiastically. She always tried to spend as little time in the control room as she possibly could. The amount of second hand smoke floating around in there was phenomenal. How the Administrator managed to talk without coughing every couple of seconds was a mystery to Miss Pauling, especially considering that fact that she never went five seconds without another cigarette in her mouth, even in her sleep. "Did DeGroot accept the deal?" "Oh yes." said Miss Pauling. "He looked like a kid in a toy shop when he first set his one eye on the eyelander. He seemed reluctant to accept at first, but a bit of lying about his friend's integrity soon fixed that." "Mann Co. never fails to impress." said the Administrator. She looked down at the the rocket launcher propped against the control panel. "Although I think this thing is missing something..." "The Direct Hit?" "Yes..." she said as she ran her fingernails across its surface. Pauling raised her eyebrow. "If you don't mind me saying ma'am, this is a rocket launcher. I think its safe to say that the Soldier has a fighting chance against the eyelander, which is a sword. A haunted sword, but a sword nonetheless." "He isn't supposed to only use the sword nitwit! That would be ridiculous! I mean, who would go into battle these days with only a sword and shield?" "Well..." "And as for the Soldier, he already has a rocket launcher, Miss Pauling. In fact, he has several. What we need to give him is something with a bit more, pizzazz. Something, that while may not be too effective, is an addition to his arsenal that he literally cannot get anywhere else." "Are you suggesting that we get him an unusual hat?" "No Miss Pauling, what I suggest is that we improve this weapon. And I think I know just the person to do it." The car came to a halt outside of the gates of the aging mansion, and two shadowy figures stepped out of the vehicle. One of them was wearing a short skirt, a purple top and a pair of designer glasses. The other was dressed from head to toe in a red, asbestos lined hazard suit, and wore black gas mask over his head. "You sure this is the right address?" queried Miss Pauling, looking down to check her trusty clipboard. "Huddda huh!" said Pyro, as he hefted his home made flamethrower and the Direct Hit out of the boot of the car. Miss Pauling shuddered. She had heard the stories about that maniac, about the way he watched men, burning and screaming in agony as their internal organs turned to ash, with the same kind of morbid fascination of a child pulling the wings off a fly. She wished that the Administrator had let her come with someone a little more level headed, like Spy, but she had insisted. After all, the man they were interested in lived in castle filled with ancient books. He would be much more likely to oblige to their demands if there was a flamethrower pointed at his collection. Pauling walked over to the drivers window. "You wait here. We shouldn't be too long. And remember, you didn't see anything." "No probs, Missus." said the driver, pulling out a copy of the Gravel Pit Times. He opened it, gave it a shake and began to read it intently. "Didn't see nuffink." Satisfied, Pauling walked back over to the iron gates that Pyro was testing for flammability with his lighter. Realizing that that the material that the gates were created from was non-combustible, he grunted and re-pocketed the lighter. Miss Pauling gave him a stern look. "Now remember. You're not here to set everything on fire, you're here to intimidate him, to threaten his books if he doesn't comply. He won't help us if you burn down his mansion within the first five seconds of arriving. Do I make myself clear?" "Hudduhh..." Without warning, the gates swung open ominously, as if by their own will. The pair advanced down the cobblestone path, flanked on either side by tombstones and overgrown shrubbery, Pyro twitching as he fought the urge to set them on fire. As the pair approached the huge front door, an unusual smell hit. "Is that, sour cream?" Miss Pauling knocked on the door. "Turn back now! Lest ye be cursed till next Tuesday!" "Mr Merasmus?" "That's lord wizard high mage of darkness Merasmus to you, welp!" "We're here on business! We were hoping you could...enchant something for us. That is what it said on your business card." "Punters? Wow, Merasmus' fortunes seem to be taking a turn for the better. One moment, my dear!" Pyro and Miss Pauling waited outside the door as the sound of multiple latches and padlocks being unlocked echoed around the dark moor. Eventually after five minutes, the doors swung open, revealing the tall and imposing figure of Merasmus. He wore a dark black cloak and a black scarf, coiled tightly around his neck like a boa constrictor. Across his right shoulder he wore a leather bag and across his left he wore a rope with three fish heads strung along it. In his right arm he held a large branch, forged in the fires of hell for over ten thousand years (Source: Merasmus himself), But the most unusual item in his varied apparel was a dirty old goat's skull sitting upon his wrinkled head, with a couple of eyeballs wedged in its sockets. "Cower fools! Merasmus is here!" screamed Merasmus, raising his arms into the air. Thunder crackled on cue in the distance. "Excuse me?" "Oh pardon me. Merasmus gets carried away sometimes." Miss Pauling and Pyro stepped inside into the castle foyer. The place was lit by a few flickering candles and there were cobwebs everywhere. "Please wipe your feet on the mat, but gaze not upon it! Tis cursed with the soul of a most terrible witch! Seriously, you do not want to mess with margret." Miss Pauling rolled her eyes. She didn't understand why the Administrator was wasting her time with this lunatic, but she did not question her. Pauling wasn't paid to question, she was paid to sort out the bills and do the dirty work. "Follow Merasmus! Don't touch anything!" "Hudda huh!" said Pyro enthusiastically. The trio walked down the dark hallway, the level of disrepair becoming more apparent the further they went. "Merasmus is regretful about the mess. Merasmus was expecting a smith today to upgrade the lighting, but the idle cretin Merasmus summoned did not turn up! Ohhh, he will pay for making wet gunpowder out of Merasmus, mark my words!" The unpleasant smell of moldy sour cream strengthened. "Ah, here we are mortals!" Merasmus pushed open a set of thick oak doors to reveal a magnificent library, stocked with books forgotten by mainstream history and science, books containing powerful spells and horrifying curses. Like the rest of the mansion, it was lit by a couple of candles and decorated with a wide variety of spiders webs. The most powerful books sat on pedestals scattered around the edges of the room. Such books could only be used by the most powerful magicians, for lesser mortals could do naught but succumb to their superior will. "Welcome to the grand library!" Shouted Merasmus, the room instantly illuminating with an eerie purple glow. A few of the books began to reshuffle themselves into different locations. Miss Pauling looked around the room with awe. She had known of the existence of magic for many years now, especially since many of the more unstable Mann Co. weaponry used it as a key component. However, none of the enchantments used could compare to the sheer level of eldrich power flowing around the room. She had severely underestimated this guy. She would not make the same mistake again. "So!" said Merasmus, turning back to his hosts and rubbing his hands with glee. "You wish for Merasmus to enchant a weapon, you say?" Miss Pauling nodded at Pyro, who offered up the rocket launcher he was carrying on his back towards Merasmus. "Ehh" grunted Merasmus, levitating the Direct Hit in-front of his face. He examined the weapon closely, summoning a leather bound notebook and pen to his side, which began to take down notes all by itself. Merasmus grunted again as he run his dirty fingernail along its surface. "Sorry." he exclaimed suddenly, telekenetically throwing the weapon back into the arms of Pyro, who only just managed to catch it. "Mphf!" "What do you mean, sorry?" Asked Miss Pauling frustratedly. "I mean I will not tamper with it." He waved his arm dismissively. "To tell the truth, Merasmus has not been keeping up to date with the modern weaponry. Much more of a traditionalist myself. If Merasmus did attempt to enchant this weapon, a whole host of anomalous calamities could occur. Besides, the destructive power of a cannon enchanted by the great Merasmus would be to much for a mere mortal." "Are you sure you won't give it ago?" "Yes, a wizard is always sure. Begone, troublesome pair, you have wasted enough of my time already." Miss Pauling sighed. "Well, if your sure..." She clicked her fingers towards Pyro who raised his flamethrower threateningly. "Hu hu hu hu!" laughed Pyro as he stalked towards the nearest bookshelf. The books ceased to shuffle themselves and scattered off in every direction, trying to find a place to hide from the deranged pyromaniac. "You think you can bully Merasmus like he's some cheap parlour magician?" Laughed Merasmus nervously. Pyro continued his advance on the bookshelf. "Leave now and Merasmus may spare your miserable life!" Pyro ignored him and took another step. "I will spare your miserable life, then!" Another step. Pyro tightened his finger around the trigger. "Enough!" Screamed Merasmus. "Fine, fine, I'll enchant your stupid rocket launcher!" Miss Pauling smiled and clicked her fingers. "Huhhhhhh? Hudda huh huh!" said Pyro angrily as he skulked back over to Miss Pauling's side. So close. "Glad we could come to an agreement, sir." Merasmus magically yanked the Direct Hit from Pyro's back. He leaned close to the side of his head. "I won't forget your face soon, microphallus. Pray that we never cross paths again." Merasmus turned dramatically, his huge cape billowing behind him. He approached one of the many pedestals scattered around the room. Upon it rested a leather bound book, which had the bizarre image of a monster eating a bomb on it's cover. "The Bombinomicon should provide me with the hexes needed to enchant this wretched weapon." He said, in a somewhat less enthusiastic way than he was speaking before. He swung round to face the pair. "Gaze not upon the Bombinomicon! Lest you would have your eyeball haunted for an eternity! Believe me, It wouldn't be the first time to happen." The wizard began to flick through the book, his eyes intently scanning each page for the enchantment he was looking for. Finally, he slammed his hand down on the right page. "Oh be quiet book, that didn't hurt! Ahem, here we are!" Holding the book in one hand and levitating the rocket launcher in the other, he began to utter the magic words. "Bazbo badabra!" He shouted. The Direct Hit flashed a bright turquoise colour as the spell struck, dark eldrich power flowing through it. Satisfied with his work, Merasmus turned back to the pair. He handed Pyro the rocket launcher carefully. "There, Merasmus has filled his side of the bargain." He held his hand open expectantly. "Now it is time for you to do the same." Miss Pauling threw a wad of American dollars into the wizard's hand. He began to flick through them greedily. "Anything we should know about the affects of this enchantment?" Asked Miss Pauling. Merasmus looked up at her. "Due to the outlandish nature of the enchantment, there may be a few unfavorable side affects, especially if the enchanted weapon comes into contact with another of its kind. Such oddities may include but are not limited to; Dimensional rifts, weapon jamming and an incurable addiction to pastries amongst other things. Other than that, the weapon should function the same way that it before, but benefit from a 10% damage increase. Would you like a receipt?" "No thanks, best to keep this unofficial" said Miss Pauling, taking notes down onto her clipboard. "Thank you for your services Merasmus. TF industries looks forward to working with you in the future." Miss Pauling and Pyro turned and walked out of the library, back towards the front doors. "Pah! Begone, heathen filth! Lest you drive Merasmus over the edge of his tolerance levels! Oh, and would you like me to inscribe my gmail address upon that parchment board for you? Merasmus is always open for business! ... As long as you don't bring him with you next time."
%i% Showdown at 2Fort3 Showdown at 2Fort The Soldier glared out across the no-mans land of 2Fort, his mind deep in thought (deep for Soldier, anyway) about the showdown that was due to take place. If it wasn't bad enough that the double crossing drunkard had actually agreed to kill him for a weapon, but the fact that he'd decided to rub it in by announcing to the world that he was a civilian? That had pushed Soldier over the edge. He could almost hear the sniggering and whispering behind his back wherever he went. Whatever they had once shared, every road trip, every drunk night, every time they warned each-other about their respective teams movements so that they could find a better position or retreat (not that Soldier every did, being the honorable warrior he was) was now shattered into a million pieces. "You sure you want to do this, son?" asked Engineer as he fiddled with his construction PDA, making minor tweaks and optimizations to his sentry gun designs to fit the unique combat conditions of the battlefield. "For all you know, they could have snipers ready to blow your brains out the moment you pop your head out the doorway." "Then he's more of a coward than I remember him to be." said Soldier bitterly. "If I'm destined to get a 308. through my skull, then so be it, but that one-eyed rum dumpster will know in his heart that I have claimed the true victory this day." "If yuh say so... Good luck out there partner. Give the bastard some good old fashion frontier justice." "Thanks Engie." "No problem. Sentry goin' up!" "Soldier." Soldier turned to his left to see Spy standing there. That man had an uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere. "They have a couple of snipers ready on the 1st floor of the base, and several more gearing up in resupply. They seem to be holding back rather than waiting for targets though. The Demoman must have accepted your challenge." "Good work, France." "It could still be a trap though. pyros turned up before I could run a more detailed analysis." "Eh, don't you worry about it, tinhat." said Sniper. He was sat on the wooden floor, making the final necessary checks to his beloved sniper rifle, the main tool of his deadly trade. "One of those wankers even thinks about taking a popshot at ya and I'll drop em faster than a kangaroo's kick in the balls." "Appreciate it, sharpshooter." "I just want you to know Soldier, ah still feel sore 'bout you not tellin' us you had a friend in red. You coulda' severely compromised us without you even intending to." said Engineer coldly. "Sorry hardhat." Said Soldier. "It was unprofessional and unbecoming of a veteran warrior such as myself. Rest assured that I will not make the same mistake again." "Hell, that's good to know." Said Engineer. He rested the metal box that he was holding on the floor and stood back, once again pulling the construction PDA out of his pocket. He pointed it at the box. "Erectin' a dispenser." Soldier stepped out of the doorframe into the midday air, his entire form bathed in warm sunrays. He looked across the canal that marked the divide between BLU and RED territory. It was pretty amazing that the two most hostile companies in the world could hold bases so close to eachother. Legend has it that during the 10 minute truce between RED and BLU of 1907 (the first and last truce of its kind), both teams tried to set up bases as close to each other as possible so when the truce inevitably ended, they would be able to get down to the daily business of tearing a each-others throats as quickly as possible. With most of these so-called 'twin-bases', one team managed to capture the others side fairly quickly, combining the two halves into a much larger facility. However as with most conflicts between RED and BLU, neither side came out on top as they both managed to capture an equal number of bases. Strangely though, this was not the case with 2Fort. Neither side has managed to fully secure the site in the decades since the truce, and battles for supremacy take place there on a daily bases, both Bluarch and Redmond refusing to back down at a heavy cost in manpower and resources. Stretching across the canal was a wooden bridge, the main choke-point in which countless men had lost their lives. Soldier took position at his side of the bridge. He checked his new weapon, the Direct Hit, to see if everything was in order. He had to say that he was impressed by the precision of the weapon when he'd tested it out on enemy scouts earlier. "Tavish? Come out, you pathetic waste of human skin!" Jane saw a silhouette appear in the door-frame of the RED base. So, he had decided to turn up after all. He began to walk unsteadily towards the bridge. The black man wore a black beanie hat and an eye patch over his left eye, and had a short unkempt beard covering his chin. He wore a red jumper and red trousers, the same colour as the company he worked for, and over the top he wore thick body armor, in order to protect him from the explosions he set off around him on a routinely basis. In his right arm he held a massive sword, and in his left he held a bottle of alcohol, which he routinely took swigs from. "You couldn't even do me the respect of being sober." Spat Soldier. "Either way numbnut, I'm going to tactically insert my boot right up your ass for what you said about me." Demoman looked at Soldier. At first he was confused, But then a look of mild anger came over his face as he began to comprehend the situation. "It's on! Its on like! *burp* Wha?" Soldier fired the Direct hit at Demoman, the explosive expert managing to dodge the shot by some miracle. Soldier fired another three shots at him in quick succession, but once again each shot missed its mark due to Demoman's erratic movements. "ahahahahar!" Laughed Tavish, taking another swig of Scrumpy. "If you think you're better than me, you've got another thing coming! *burp*" He dropped the empty bottle to the floor and grasped the sword with both his hands. "Dammit dammit dammit dammit!" cursed Solider as he frantically began to load more rockets into the Direct Hit. "1...2...3..." "Yeeeeaaaaaarrrrrgggghhhh!" Soldier quickly rolled to one side as Demoman charged straight past him, the eyelander raised above his head. He slammed it down, lodging it into the wooden railing at the side of the bridge. Soldier spun round and landed a kick on Demoman's back. "Oof!" Soldier threw a punch, this time aimed at the Scotsman face, but it was caught by Demoman's hand. Having bought himself some valuable time, Demoman tugged harder at the eyelander, finally managing to pull it free from the railing before Soldier pulled his fist free of his grasp. Demoman grinned. At this ranged there was no chance of Soldier using his rocket launcher. It was his turn to be vulnerable. Demoman swung the eyelander down towards Soldier's head. Soldier tried to defend himself by instinctively blocking with the closest object to hand. The Direct Hit. As the two magical weapons made contact with each other, the entire surrounding area began to glow in a brilliant purple light. Sparks began fly around the immediate area and dark purple thunder clouds began to circle above the bridge like voracious alligators, voicing their hunger with growling thunder. "What the?" Soldier said before he disappeared in a white flash. Demoman looked at the place where his mortal enemy used to stand and scratched his head. A few of the wooden floorboards flashed and disappeared in a similar fashion. "I'm drunk." Concluded Demoman before dissapearing himself into a white flash. More and more of the bridge disappeared as the storm above began to grow even more violent. What was left of the bridge began to splinter apart and debris were thrown everywhere. Finally, the storm dissipated, along with the weakened bridge which collapsed into the canal. Splinters, nuts and bolt were scattered everywhere within a 1 mile radius. Engineer slowly poked his head back round edge the wooden wall, having pulled it in when the explosions had begun to get a little too intense. He pulled off his goggles and rubbed his eyes, taking in the what he had just seen in the past few minutes. He looked at Sniper, who was cowering behind a low wall, cradling his sniper rifle in his arms. The Australian turned to Engineer and shrugged, as if answering his confused stare. Engineer looked back at the remains of the devastated bridge. He whistled. "Hell, now ah've seen everything."
%i% Untactical insertion4 Untactical insertion "Agh, my head!" The Soldier lifted his head slowly, turning it from side to side as he scanned the area. He appeared to be in some kind of forest clearing. How he had got there he had no clue. He could find out later. For now, he need to find out where exactly he was. He checked the strap across his chest. Grenades. Check. He formed a fist with his hand and knocked on his head. It gave off a loud clanging noise. Helmet. Check. Shovel. Check. Shotgun. Check. Rocket launcher. Rocket launcher? Soldier's eyes began to sweep the immediate area. Oh no, he can't of lost it, not already. He'd only had it a day. Soldier jumped to his feet and began to sweep the immediate area. He found he was indeed in a forest clearing, but it wasn't like any forest he'd ever been in. Broken planks and splinters were scattered everywhere, suggesting that when he had been sucked through to where ever he was, everything nearby had been sucked through too. Which meant he was here. Which gave him all the more of a reason to find this new awesome rocket launcher, and find it quick. He walked up to one of the trees and examined its trunk. It bark was gnarled and twisted in such a way that it looked as if it was bearing its sharp, barky teeth at him. "That's your war face? You don't scare me!" barked Soldier, trying to give himself a sense of familiarity in this strange place. He turned quickly as a feral howl in the distance snatched his attention. "Ugh." He grunted. "Sounds like trouble." He took out his shotgun and checked it. Full ammo. "That's as best a place to look as anywhere, eh heh heh." He cocked his secondary weapon violently and stalked off into the forest in the direction of the howl, the dark branches swallowing him up behind him. "Oh no!" Spike ran after the hot air balloon as fast as his stubby little legs could carry him. At least it gave him something to worry about, he thought. After Twilight had decided to give him the day off, he was sure that he would be able to have lots of fun, doing the things he'd always wanted to do but never had the chance due to all the chores Twilight gave him. But it seemed that he didn't have much that he wanted to do. In truth, Spike loved to help his friends, despite moaning about it sometimes, and felt empty inside when none of them wanted his help. Also, the voice in his head may have been exaggerating a little when it told him that he never got to do what he wanted. The only other thing he really did was sleep, and that wasn't very interesting at all. After spotting the hot air balloon in town, he quickly ran over too it, deciding that it would be a fun thing to do. He had always enjoyed flying, despite being a wingless dragon. He guessed a love of feeling the wind in your scales was something built into every dragons base instincts. Unfortunately, Spike had been a little over enthusiastic, and managed to release the balloon from its mooring, sending it drifting deep into the Everfree forest, one of the most dangerous locations within the borders of Equestria. Due to his single mindedness to catch the balloon however, Spike had not noticed this, and after somehow managing to catapult himself onto the balloon's mooring rope from Big Mac's apple cart, he found himself in the heart of the dark forest. "Whoa, that was a close one." Sighed Spike as he tied the rope to a nearby branch. Slowly, he began to look around, taking in his surroundings. He gulped. "If I didn't know better, I would swear I was in the middle of the dark and scary Everfree forest." He heard an angry howl frighteningly close to where he was standing. He jumped. "What was that?!" "C'mon Spike. Just because this forest is full of wild, dangerous animals, doesn't mean your gonna see one!" He said, trying in vain to comfort himself. He heard another howl, this time closer still. The prospect of not bumping into one of the wild, dangerous animals of the Everfree forest was becoming thinner by the second. All of a sudden a foul odor hit his nose. Being a dragon, Spike had a very well attuned sense of smell, and this only amplified the unpleasantness of it. He spluttered and stumbled backwards, trying to escape the visible green stink assaulting his nostrils. He tripped over what seemed to be a small branch, falling on to his rear. As he drew his eyes towards the 'branch' he had tripped over, it became apparent that it was not in fact a branch at all, as it was attached to the gnarled body of a Timber Wolf, the Everfree forest's most notorious pack predators. Many unprepared ponies had become snacks to these foul creatures in the past, and while they may not be the largest or most deadly individually, they were certainly the most intelligent, using teamwork to hunt down their prey in large packs. They were also well known for their revolting breath. The creature snorted into Spike's face. "aaaahhhhahahahaaaaahhhhh!" Screamed Spike as he ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction. The wolves instantly giving pursuit of their new-found prey. They had not sampled the taste of dragon before, for obvious reasons. Spike ran out into a clearing, looking for any possible way to evade his pursuers. Strangely, there were bits of wood and metal scattered everywhere. Much of the small pieces of metal were molded into strange shapes and the wood was of a strange variety that was certainly not found anywhere within a hundred miles of here. But he could worry about that later. He heard the sound of angry barking very close to his ears. If he was still alive that was. He ran behind one of the larger chunks of wood, trying to make himself as small as possible. He noticed a large, metal cylinder beside him, with strange components jutting off of it. It was very smooth, and was obviously some kind of tool, though what it was used for, he had no idea. It looked kind of like a telescope. 'Mann Co.?' Spike froze as he heard the sound of sniffing on the other side of the piece of wood. Dragons weren't the only ones who had a good sense of smell, and Spike was sure that sooner or later, they would sniff him out of his hiding place. He crawled over to the cylinder to inspect it closer. Who knows, it might just help him get out of this mess. 'Oh, I wish Applejack was here.' Spike ran his claws along the weapon. It appeared that the components on its underside were handles. He tried to heft the cylinder on to his shoulder. It must have been twice the size of him! One of the wolves gave a surprised whimper, as it picked up his scent. Spike noticed that there was, in fact, a mini telescope attached to the side of the weapon. He peered into it. He noticed that there were some kind of markings on the lens. Crosshairs! This must be some kind of cannon! Perfect! Spike had read a book about Equestrian warfare when he was bored in Twilight's library. Cannons were massive weapons that were used to fire large balls of cast-iron at enemies. They were usually found on castle battlements or on the back of wagons (mostly on castle battlements though, it had been centuries since Equestria had been involved in a proper full-scale war.) Such weapons were horrifically powerful, and they were seldom used in anything but the most desperate confrontations. This weapon appeared to be much smaller than a normal cannon, suggesting that it was meant for claw-held use. Speaking of claw held use, the weapon was clearly not designed for use by ponies. There was no way Twilight could fire this thing. Perhaps it was meant for use by diamond dogs? Also, the weapon smelt of a weak magic. That in itself was not unusual, many weapons used by the royal guard were enchanted to improve their efficiency and power. However, something about the smell of this magic was strange. The smell was faint, due to the magical power being drained, but the smell was still there. It smelt of sour cream and rotten fish. One of the timber wolves began to scratch at the chunk of wood Spike was hiding behind. He yelped, prompting his pack mates to help him. The air was filled with the sound of wood scratching on wood. "Well Spike, here goes nothing." Spike grabbed the top of the chunk, his other hand clutched firmly around the mini-cannon. He attempted to vault on to the top, but due to the weight of the weapon and Spike's lack of physical strength, he settled for dragging himself up slowly. Thankfully, the wolves didn't notice. Spike dug his feet into the wood, bracing himself for the inevitable recoil. He pointed the mini-cannon vaguely towards the middle of the pack of Timber wolves. "Hey you! Over here!" At once the wolves heads shot up to face Spike, their eerie green glowing eyes revealing an insatiable hunger. The lead wolf gave a satisfied grunt and licked his lips. "Come and get it!" Spike pulled the trigger of the weapon, launching a large chunk of metal out of the end of the weapon, leaving a trail of fire as it went. Unfortunately, Spike missed his mark, instead hitting a nearby tree, blowing the things into mere wood shavings in an instant. "Whoa!" shouted Spike as he was thrown back into a steep cliff face. He grunted, slowly pulling himself to his feet. He looked over to the weapon, which had slipped out of his hands as he was launched through the air. Noticing that their prey had lost its toy, the Timber wolves began to circle Spike again, quickly recovering from the initial shock of the blast. "Please, someone help!" Screamed Spike. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable end. He hoped that it would be quick and painless. But the end never came. "AAAaaaAAAaaaAAAAHHHH!" *BOOM* *Click-click* Spike opened his eyes to see that the Timber wolves were no longer focused on him. Instead, they had there eyes glued to the large, tall bipedal figure that had just crashed into the clearing. Laying at its feet was an unlucky Timber wolf, its head reduced to wood chips, its body spasming sporadically as the last of its life force seeped out of it. "I've faced rodents more fearsome than you, twiggy!" At once, the remaining Wolves leapt at this unusual creature, seeking to avenge the unexpected death of their pack mate. The creature leveled an odd looking stick towards the Timber wolves with it's monkey like hands and fired, The end of the stick blossoming into fire. Splinters exploded out of another Timber wolf's chest, causing the creature to yelp in pain and fall limp to the floor. The figure fired again at another wolf, this one loosing its head in a cloud of sawdust. "Maggots!" The two remaining wolves that had stayed back looked on at the unfolding battle in horror. As the last of their pack brothers crashed to the floor, they felt the attention of the strange creature fall to them. He leveled his stick. *Click* *Click* The creature looked frustratedly at his weapon. "Dammit." Sensing his confusion, the two Wolves grinned menacingly. This creature would pay for what he had done to their brothers. They began to advance towards him, snarling menacingly. The creature pulled out what appeared to be a shovel from his back, holding it in front of his body defencivley. The first Wolf jumped, its teeth bared, its mind focused on its objective of tearing out the creature's fleshy throat. The creature swung his shovel up to meet the chest of his enemy, knocking the wind out of him and sending him skidding off to the left. "Boo-yah!" The second Wolf, having snuck round behind the creature while it was distracted, leapt on to the creatures back, and proceeded to bite the back of his neck viciously. The creature yelped, and began slamming his shovel against his back, a few of his hits missing the Wolf and clanging off his steel helmet. After 1 minute of constant bashing and manly screaming, he finally stopped, allowing the long-dead Timber Wolf to drop ungracefully to the floor. He looked over to the trembling dragon. "What's the matter kid? Never seen a hairless ape before?"
%i% Private Spike5 Private Spike "You saved my life!" Shouted Spike, running over to the 'hairless ape' that had single handedly wiped out an entire pack of Timber Wolves. Under normal circumstances, Spike would be slightly worried at the potential threat, but the only thing going through his head was sheer relief and gratitude. He grabbed the creature's leg and hugged it affectionately. "Don't get used to it." said the creature, shaking his leg to dislodge the baby dragon. Spike fell to the floor with a thump. "Where's my rocket launcher?" "Oh, you mean your cannon? Here it is!" said Spike, rushing over to the Direct Hit. He hefted it into his arms and struggled back towards the creature. It smirked. "Little guy aren't you? Thanks." Said the creature, snatching the weapon out of Spike's claws and slinging it's strap over his shoulder. Satisfied that the weapon was secure, he bent down to pick up his his Reserve Shooter shotgun. "Sometimes I wonder why I use this damn thing." The creature looked down towards Spike again. The dragon was looking up at him, his eyes wide with awe and respect. "Something wrong?" "You...saved...my...life." Spike ran over to the creature and grabbed his leg again hugging it tightly. The creature looked both ways to make sure no one was there and sighed. Even the hardened veteran had to admit, it was kind of cute. "You got a name, kid?" Spike gulped. "Spike. Name's Spike." He let go of the creature's leg and stood up straight, trying to make himself look impressive. "I'm a dragon." "Bit small for a dragon, aren't you?" Spike looked down glumly. "Yeah, well I'm only a ba- I mean, I'm only a young dragon." The creature turned away from Spike and sniffed the air. Something didn't smell right about this place. The air smelt too fresh. He was definatley a long way from home. "I bet Merasmus has something to do with this..." "So, uh, what's your name?" Soldier turned back to Spike. "My name?" The Creature grunted. "Since you do not have the authority to know my actual name, you may call me the Soldier." Spike's eyes lit up. "You're a Soldier?!" "Damn right I am." Spike had always dreamed of being a hero, and what could be more heroic than being a soldier? Risking your life on a daily basis on the battlefield to defend all you loved and cared about, marching through the streets in your bright uniform, taking in the noise of the cheering crowds. "Could you teach me to be a Soldier too?" The Soldier took one look down at Spike and snorted. "No." He turned back towards the forest and started walking. Spike gave chase. He wasn't going to give up that easily. If this guy could teach Spike to become brave warrior, Rarity would be sure to be impressed! "Aw, c'mon, where you going?" "I need to set up a camp, find the nearest village or town and get my bearings. Army stuff." Said Soldier carefully. Not actually being in an official army had left him unprepared for this kind of thing. Most of what he did outside basic combat was trial and error. "I can show you where Ponyville is!" "Negatory. I do not need your help, lizard." Aw, please, give me a chance! I'll do anything! I'll clean your boots, polish your weapons, I'll follow your every order to the letter, just please give me a chance to be a hero like you!" "Hmmmm" Thought Soldier. He rubbed his chin. Soldier looked down upon the castle that sat before him, the last enemy bastion in existance. If the United States of Soldier could take this fort, they would have conquered the entire world. "General Doe, Sir! We have the enemy stronghold surrounded!" Came the booming voice of Color sergeant Spike, The impressive dragon a product of years of grueling military training. "Good work, Sergeant!" Grinned Soldier. "The troops are ready to attack on your command, Sir. All you have to do is give the order." Soldier looked over his army, a mass of blue trench-coat clad purple dragons, unflinching in the face of the enemy guns, which continued to pound their ranks from within the safety of the castle. The cowards. The Soldier lit a cigarette and drew it to his lips. He brought his rocket launcher to his shoulder, steadying it. No general should fear front line duty, he thought. The enemy bombardment grew more intense, but still, his perfectly trained troops did not yield. It was time. "Charge" He whispered. "CHARGE!" Screamed Spike, waving a huge ornate banner with a likeness of the Solider's face emblazoned upon it. The troopers gave a terrifying battle cry and charged forward, their characteristic rocket launchers blazing like the 4th of July, sending down a hail of explosive warheads upon the castle walls. Within minutes the walls had crumbled to dust, leaving- "Soldier, are you still there?" said Spike, tugging on the bottom of the Soldier's trench coat. Soldier looked down at Spike (again), grinning manically. "That's General Jane Doe to you, private!" Spike's eyes lit up. "You'll do it?!" He said, barley able to contain his excitement. "Do not speak without my permission, private! Now, down and give me twenty!" Desperate to impress, Spike looked around eagerly, and then at Soldier with a puzzled look on his face. "Permission to talk, sir?" "Spit it out then, private!" "Twenty what?" Soldier groaned. He really had his work cut out if he was ever going to make a man out of this lizard. "Twenty push ups! Here, let me show you." He threw his rocket launcher to Spike, who only barely caught it. Soldier dropped to the ground and began to do some extreme push ups, eager to show this kid exactly what he had let himself in for. "Oh, and sir?" Wheezed Spike, strugging under the weight of the giant metal weapon. "What now, private?" Said Soldier, beginning to get rather annoyed with the constant flow of questions. "Isn't Jane a girl's name?" "Dammit."
%i% Setting up shop6 Setting up shop "Come on, sunshine! Knees higher! Higher!" Shouted Soldier at Spike, who was jogging just ahead of him. The pair were traveling down one of the few muddy paths that went through the Everfree forest, flanked on either side by the tall, intimidating trees. "So, where exactly are we going sir, if not to Ponyville?" Asked Spike between labored breaths. He definatley was not used to this much exercise in one go. "Why on earth would we need to go into town? To get a some cakes and muffins?" said Soldier sarcastically. Spike licked his lips, not picking up on Soldier's undertone. "Oh yeah, that sounds good." Completely unannounced, Soldier grabbed Spike by the scruff of his neck and lifted him off of his feet, the dragon's legs still moving. He swiveled him around so that he could stare into his eyes. "Do you want to be a Soldier, private?" He asked menacingly. "Yes, yes sir!" Gulped Spike, a strange mixture of fear and confusion running though his mind. "This is not a tea party, private! This is war!" Screamed Soldier, spittle flying out of his mouth and onto Spike's face. He dropped the dragon to the floor with a thump. "You're going to have to learn private Spike, the easy or the hard way, that Soldier's do not need cakes! They do not need crisps! And they do certainly not need muffins! Those are luxuries private, and we can not afford luxuries at the moment!" The Soldier reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick, stubby, dirty looking stick. He waved it in Spike's face. "You see this private? This is my last stogie! Wrapped in old band aids, it is made of gravel, horse manure, human hair and taco seasoning." "Eww." Grimaced Spike. "Do you know what happens when I use this thing up? It. Gets. Used. Up. Private, that's what! I doubt there is another decent cigar within a hundred miles of this place!" He prodded the cigar against Spike's snout. "With all due respect sir, tobacco has been scientifically linked to respiratory illnesses." said Spike. "And with all due respect, private twinkletoes, cakes and muffins have been scientifically linked to making you into a good-for-nothing fatass! The point is private, is that this is my luxury, and it is nearly all gone!" Screamed Soldier. "Does that mean I can have one muffin?" "NO! I am the commanding officer here, so that means I get more than you anyway! Now, errr, give me 20 pull ups off that branch!" Said Soldier. "But how- whoa!" Said Spike as Soldier lifted him up to the branch. Not wanting to be dropped on the floor again, Spike instantly grabbed hold of the branch. "Up! Down! Up! Down! We haven't got all day private!" Spike pulled his head towards the branch, sweat pouring down his head. He felt as if his arms were going to snap under the strain. After pulling himself up and down ten times, he noticed that Soldier, having lost interest long ago, had continued to walk down the path, leaving Spike hanging. "Hey! You cant just leave me here!" "Quit whining private and swing!" "But-" "Swing!" Spike began to swing his legs back and forth, building up motion as he prepared to jump to the next branch. His eyes locked onto it, his mind making crude calculations on whether he could make it. He reckoned he could. Spike swung forward and let go of the branch. *Thump* Turns out he couldn't. Spike pulled himself out of the mud and ran to catch up with Soldier, who had succumbed to smoking his cigar. "If I had a dollar for every time you landed on your ass today I'd be a rich man, private." He mumbled. "Yes sir." Moaned Spike. Soldier was right. It was really beginning to get sore now. "Ah ha!" Said Soldier suddenly. "Here we are!" Before them was a clearing in the forest, a little larger than the one they had met in, at least several acres. In the center of the clearing was an old derelict cottage, which had obviously been abandoned long ago. Next to the entrance was an old signpost, the original sign itself resting at its base. Spike squinted as he tried to make out the faded writing. Welcome to Su "Welcome to Su? If only the rest of the sign hadn't been snapped off!" Soldier however didn't notice Spike's problem, rubbing his hands together with glee. "Perfect!" "Um excuse me sir," Said Spike. "Yes private?" Said Soldier as he surveyed the land before him. "How did you know this would be here? I mean, I've never heard of it, and I pretty much live right next to the Everfree forest!" Soldier waved his hand dismissively. "I didn't." He began to jog down the muddy old path that led up to the abandoned dwelling. "Come on private!" Spike shook his head. They could have been wondering around in the Everfree for days if this clearing hadn't happened to have been at the side of the path. Spike had serious worries about this guys mental health. He jogged over to the Soldier, who was examining the cottage door. Also, there was something not quite right about this place. It seemed a little too idilic, especially for the Everfree forest. "This place must've been abandoned years ago." Observed Spike. Soldier grunted in agreement as he ran his finger along the frame. He tried the handle. "It's locked." He said, taking a single pace backwards. He cracked his knuckles and looked at Spike. "Stand back son." Soldier raised his boot and slammed it against the door, splintering it into little pieces. Pushing the little remains that were still attached to the handle aside, he stepped into the cottage, Spike following tentatively. Every surface in the cottage was covered in a thick layer of dust. It was apparent it had been abandoned for a very long time, as mould had gotten to the wood and moisture collected in puddles all over the floor. Most of the walls were covered in a peeling yellow wallpaper, patterned with an image of a playing filly. Spike heard the sound of cupboards being forced opened in the kitchen. "The spoils of war!" Spike shook his head and wandered into the living room of the cottage. The air was thicker here, and smelt of heavy smoke. Spike coughed. He could still hear Soldier rummaging around in the kitchen. The room itself was relatively featureless. There were no windows , a fireplace at the far end of the room, and two benches facing said fireplace. "I guess it gets pretty cold out here." said Spike. The ceiling and the wall in which the fireplace was installed was burned a deep black colour, suggesting that there had been a fire here. Ash littered the room. Spike noticed a shiny piece of glass laying half buried in the ash. Hey, what's this? Spike bent over to examine it more closely. It was a magnifying glass, its lens cracked, and its casing warped by heat. Spike took a deep breath and blew, to try and clear some of the thick layer of ash away from the ground to see if he could find anything else. He did. The burnt skeleton of a young pony. "Gahhh!" cried Spike, jumping backwards. "What is it now, private?" Grunted Solider, his arms warped around a huge collection of tinned food, some of it dropping to the floor as he stumbled along. "It's a d-dead body!" Quivered Spike. Of course he had seen skeletons before, but never anything too recent or up close, usually just diagrams from Twilight's books, of ponies that had lived thousands of years ago, much too distant from the present for Spike to feel anything from. But this... there had only been one documented death (other than old age) in Ponyville and the surrounding area for at least a decade from what the police station records show, and even then it had been more of a missing pony case. Soldier whistled. "Burnt to a crisp! Pyro would be proud. C'mon private, you'll be seeing a lot more of those if you're serious about being a proper soldier, and if your anything like me, most of them will have been made by you! Though, that aint too likely with a stomach like that." "Hey, I can handle it!" "Good to hear private, now come out here and help me with these provisions!" said Soldier, stepping outside. Spike followed. Would he really be able to kill somepony else if he needed to? Nah, it probably wouldn't come to that, unless this guy really was hellbent on conquering Equestria, which Spike doubted. Besides, he was only really doing it to prove that he could be a hero, and maybe impress Rarity. Oh, Rarity. I bet she would be very impressed with him. He could see it now, marching down the streets of Ponyville in his immaculate uniform, a lance in one claw, the severed head of a ferocious dragon in another, his loyal troops (he was sure Jane would promote him eventually) marching behind him, the citizens of Ponyville cheering him. Spike! Spike! Spike! And Rarity would be standing in front of him, fluttering her... The vision was ruined by a can of tomato soup landing on Spike's head. Soldier looked around him, a few more cans falling to the floor every time he moved. "Uhhh..." Soldier wasn't really the best known for thinking things through. "Wait here." He said and ran back inside. After much clanging he emerged again, with a bucket of pink paint in one hand, and an old hairbrush in the other. "Private! You stand before the first bastion of the United States of Soldier, Fort Victory!" cried soldier passionately. "From now on, this will be our main base of operations, from where we will plan our conquest of this pathetic nation! Now, fetch me a step ladder!" "Pink? was that the best color you could find? You really do like girly stuff, don't you General Jane Doe?" Smirked Spike. "Private?" "Yes?" "Do you value your reproductive organs?" "Sorry sir." Rarity sat at her sewing machine in the center of the Carousel Boutique, the interior looking even more chaotically organized than normal. Her shimmering blue eyes were set firmly on the piece of fabric in front of her, and she didn't even so much as take her eyes off it to blink. She was working on a new dress for Twilight, and it was important that she got it right to the last detail. She always took any work regarding her friends very seriously. "Rarity!" "Gah!" Rarity swung round quickly, grabbing a large piece of material and throwing it over the sewing machine and the incomplete dress. "Twilight! How nice to see you!" She said, grinning awkwardly. "Rarity?" Said Twilight, looking around the room in dismay. "Have you seen Spike?" "Spike? Noo..." said Rarity. "Why, have you lost him again?" "He's not some kind of dog, Rarity! I just thought he might be in here helping you." Said Twilight, walking round the room and scanning for any sign that the dragon might be hiding like a searchlight. "You see, I told him he could go out for the day having finished his chores, but he hasn't come home. I mean, usually he just comes back after half an hour because he cant think of anything to do!" "I'm afraid I haven't seen Spike all day" said Rarity. There was a rustling from the other-side of the room beneath some sheets of fabric. "Spike?" Said Twilight quietly. She slowly edged towards the rustling piece of fabric. 'Oh no.' Thought Rarity. "Um, Twilight he really isn't here, I swear! perhaps you'd be better off asking Rainbow Dash where he is. You know how he's been recently with this whole ridiculous 'hero' thing." "Just a minute, Rarity" Said Twilight, stalking towards the piece of fabric like a predator, her eyes narrowing. "Gotcha!" She said as she leapt onto the fabric. Rarity couldn't watch. Her surprise dress ruined for sure! "Yeaowch!" "Rearwl!" Twilight stumbled back in pain, the large, fluffy form of Opal clinging on to the end of her face with her vicious claws. Twilight used her magic to grab Opal by the scruff and fling her out a nearby open window. Rarity sighed loudly in relief. "Meow!" "Well, that's the mystery of the rustling fabric sheet cleared up!" Said Rarity. Normally she'd be worrying about the health of her beloved cat, but all she could feel was relief that Twilight hadn't discovered her surprise dress. She'd attend to Opal later. "If I see Spike you'll be the first to know, darling!" Said Rarity, careful not to push her good luck. She used her Telekinesis to shove Twilight towards the door. "But!" Protested Twilight. "Ok! Thank you! Ta ta darling!" Said Rarity as Twilight was promptly thrown out the door of the Carousel Boutique and the door slammed behind her.
