Chapter 29- Catching Up With the Past

Shock, fear, surprise, anger. I suppose I should have been stunned into silence by one of these emotions.

Instead what I did was prime one of my last two plasma grenades in full view of every being present, and then teleport it directly between the eyes of the hulking brute that I assumed to be the Alpha Wendigo.

Unfortunately I wasn’t even granted a momentary look of surprise. The moment it appeared, Wendigo Prime quickly moved his head back and swatted the grenade back my way, all in one smooth motion. I barely had time to erect a shield, which was shattered as soon as the grenade detonated.

Stalemate.

“Clearly you are determined to be as bothersome as possible.” The alpha snarled in disdain. “And just as clearly this fool,” he said, pointing a wickedly sharp claw in the direction of a cringing Brass Buttons, “isn’t up to the task of ridding me of you. So I’m going to make this simple. You,” he said, turning to face Buttons fully. “Take your remaining toys and continue the assault on the Moon Princesses castle. My colleagues and I will remain here until we rid ourselves of these pests.”

“Y-yes master. Of course, whatever you say.” Buttons says, reentering the head of the fallen robot pony.

The six Wendigos step down off of its muzzle. Suddenly a brief grinding noise is heard. Then the head of the pony-bot detaches itself from the remains of it’s body, and proceeds to move toward the remaining cyber ponies, carried along on sturdy brass accented tank treads.

Moonlight moves to intercept it, but before she has taken three steps, she found her path suddenly blocked by three of the Wendigos. Their claws gleaming wickedly in the morning sunlight.

During all of this, without so much as a word, Junior has made his way up onto my back, and has reform himself around me once more. I never even noticed the sting of the interface, my focus remaining intently on the Alpha.

As Junior rejoins with me and our minds link up, a memory surges down the link.

It was a memory of my last mission before I was assigned to Whinnyappleous…

Manehatten. It had been a long long time since I was last in this city. And hopefully, after tonight, I’d never have to return to it again.

It wasn’t the dirt and stink of the city that I hated. It was the bitter memories. Memories of my first and worst failure. I lost my perp, I lost my partner, and I lost my foolhardy innocence. The city had swallowed them all down deep into it’s dark heart. I had tried to follow them once, but instead of getting to the bottom of the case, all I managed to find was the bottom of a bottle. Then another, then another, then another.

But tonight that was going to change. I was back, and this time things would be different. This time I was different. I casually rubbed a hoof down my side, feeling the metal runes than were underneath my coat. Each one of them stirred a fresh memory of pain as I recalled when they were seared into my flesh. The smell of one’s own flesh melting and then catching fire, that charred meat smell, it was a smell I detested more than anything else. I doubted I’d ever be able to pass a griffin or diamond dog restaurant without wanting to puke for the rest of my life. But Goddess help me it was worth it.

“Where is he?” a voice whispered from over my shoulder. “He’s ten minutes late.”

“Patience Junior. I know this is your first time, but the real world doesn’t work like it does in your detective novels. Ponies in our line of work are rarely on time.” I whispered back. “We’ll give him another thirty minutes or so. If he doesn’t show by then, we’ll have to just call it a night.”

“No.” Junior whispered angrily. “We’ve been put off too long, he HAS to show up. This needs to be settled.”

“Stop it!” I fire back harshly. “I agreed to let you come along because I owed it to your father for you to see this finished. You have no say in how this gets done. Do you have any idea how many favors I had to call in, how many strings I had to pull, just to be allowed back on this case? I want this finished a hell of a lot more than you will ever know. And if we want any chance of that happening, then you need to sit back, shut up, and let me do this MY way. Are we clear?”

I feel Junior drawing back and settling onto my shoulder, but hear no response.

“I said are we clear!”

“Yes BOSS, we are very CLEAR.” he fires back bitterly.

I sigh to myself. “Don’t call me Boss,” I say quietly. “I’m nobody’s boss.”

We both settle into silence. But it doesn’t last. No more than five minutes later the pony I’ve been waiting for arrives. He stops at the mouth of the alley, leans against the corner, and then when he is sure he isn’t being followed, casts a glance inside. When he does I step out of the shadows to allow myself to be briefly illuminated by the light of a nearby porch. Then just as quickly I fade back into the darkness. After another check to make sure nopony is watching, he turns the corner, and makes his way to me.

“Followed?” I ask, my version of small talk. Of course he wasn’t, if he had been he would have kept on trotting past the alley.

“No, I’m good.” He replies, just as succinctly. “You have my bits?” he inquires.

I pull a small bag from inside my coat, and heft it in my hoof, letting him hear the distinctive clink of gold on gold.

“You have my information?” I ask in return.

The pony before me pulls a large manilla envelope from his own coat. Without a word we exchange our burdens. Equally in silence, I study the contents of the envelope by the light of my horn, as he opens the bag and begins to count bits by the light of his.

If this had been a transaction with someone higher up on the underworld ladder, inspecting the goods in front of each other would be considered a serious insult, which would likely end up with one or both of us dead. But the pony in front of me was just a face. He was sent on this errand by another pony, who was in turn hired because this was the type of service he provided. Readily disposable bodies whose life and fortune depended on whether or not they could complete their task successfully.

This may sound like the worst kind of job to have, but there are plenty of ponies that are either desperate enough for that one big payoff, or looking to get in good with a bigger fish, that they will line up for a chance at a job like this. Tonight is a good night. Both of us will be able to walk away from this alive… Or so I thought.

“Mr. Smith wanted me to tell you that that info was very hard to come by.” The pony says, continuing to count bits.

The help isn’t supposed to pass messages. He’s just supposed to drop off and pick up. I know his boss, he doesn’t hire ponies with big muzzles. This pony is off script.

“Mr. Smith isn’t sure that you appreciate just HOW difficult it was to acquire it.” The messenger says, oblivious to the frown forming on my muzzle.

I know where this is going. This is going to be a problem that I don’t have time to clean up, I need to head this off… NOW.

My horn ignites and unseen by the pony in front of me, a rune flares briefly on my hip. Suddenly I have the magical strength of a dozen unicorns flowing through me. Nice.

“I’m going to stop you right there,” I say, and abruptly I do just that, freezing his every limb in place, the light from his horn winks out, just as if I had snuffed out a candle.

I teleport his coat into my hooves, and quickly search it. Uh huh, just as I thought. Some sort of weapon. It looks like one of those steam powered ‘guns’ that they have in Whinnyappleous.

“Couriers aren’t supposed to be armed.” I remark, almost casually. “It’s part of the service. Your boss doesn’t like his clients to be nervous you see.” I float the gun up before his straining eyes with my magic, “and I have to say, the sight of that very illegal weapon, is certainly making ME nervous,” I offer disdainfully, and then crush it into a small perfect ball of metal. His pupils shrink to mere dots. “Now I’m SURE you wouldn’t want me to become any more nervous than I already am would you?”

“Nngh nnngh,” he forces out, his rigid features attempting to contort in terror.

“Good. Then I suggest you take your bag of bits and go while you still can. As a matter of fact, let me HELP you on your way.”

My horn flares brightly, and the pony before me vanishes from sight.

“W-where did you send him?” Junior asks, clearly impressed by the display of my newly gained powers.

“You remember that old unused water tower at the corner of Thirty-first Street and McWhinny Avenue?”

“The one we staked out last week when we were looking for meeting places? The one with the rancid water in it?” Junior asks. “Yeah, who could forget it. I thought I’d never get the stink off of my carapace.”

“Well, that’s where our friend is now. INSIDE the water tower.”

“Oh Goddess boss, that was truly wicked.” Junior says in awe.

“Yeah, I think I’m developing a dark sense of humor.” I admit. And as an afterthought, “and stop calling me boss.”

“Um, sorry. It just seems like in this kind of place, doing these kinds of things, that ‘boss’ is more appropriate than ‘Pop’.”

I mull that over for a second. I suppose it wouldn’t do for any potential bad guys to suspect a familial bond between us. “Fair enough. When we are at ‘work’, call me boss.”

“You got it Pop.” I can almost hear the grin in his voice.

In response I casually lean back against the wall, crushing him between my back and the cold mortared bricks. Not enough to actually hurt him, but with enough pressure to let him know who was the ‘boss’. Then I peruse the contents of the envelope once more, as I feel Junior squirming around behind me.

This was it! This was what I had been looking for.

“Junior, I think it’s time we made a trip to the docks. It looks like and old ‘friend’ of ours is returning to town. And I think it behooves us to give him a proper welcome.”

“And you’ll keep your promise right?” Junior asks, his voice flat with just a hint of accusation in it.

“Yes son. I’m a pony of my word, you’ll have your equal share, but I’ll tell you from experience, the smell of revenge is always better than the actual taste. And it’s never left me very satisfied afterwords.”

“I don’t care Pop. I have to do this. WE have to do this.”

“Yes Junior, we do.”

It takes us less a little over twenty minutes to make our way to the docks of Manehatten. The berth we were currently across from was at the far end of a mostly disused section of the pier. Likewise the rooftop of the warehouse upon which we were hidden was practically a derelict. It seemed like there were more holes in it than there were shingles. Our ‘friend’ must be having hard times if this was the best he could afford to rent. And that was fine with me.

“Okay Junior, I think I see our ship coming into port. Time to suit up.”

“Okay Boss,” He says, trying not to let the nervous excitement he is feeling into his voice.

I feel the brief sting as Junior attaches himself to my spine. And then I feel the slow creep of his nannysprites as they crawl across my body to join together in the shape of night black body armor.

Junior has only done this a few times before, and never for an actual battle. I had been training him at his own request, ever since he hatched his first batch of nannysprites. His armor wasn’t like Bob’s. He was the next generation of command bug. Stronger, faster, and with his own distinctive personality. Although, just for tonight, he had made himself resemble his dad’s armor perfectly.

“Junior, zoom in on the gangplank they are lowering off the ship.”

“On it.”

My vision blurs for a moment, and then I can see the lowest part of the gangplank with crystal clarity.

Less than five minutes later, figures begin to make their way onto the dock. The first two are obviously hired goons. Large almost feral looking diamond dogs. But immediately behind them trots a pony I am very familiar with.

“Axle Grease.”

I nearly spit out those two words. It took me years to pick up his trail after he made his escape. He must have used up nearly all his wealth to stay off the grid for this long. But I knew at some point his money would run out, and ponies like him know of only one way to make a living. And here he was, at last.

“Pop, behind the greasy looking pony, is that…?”

I tear my gaze from Axle Grease and focus on the last two figures coming down the ramp. My blood runs cold for a moment.

“Wendigos,” I all but whisper.

Suddenly I feel a surge of emotion through the neural link. A mixture of rage, anticipation, and the tiniest hint of fear.

‘Calm down Junior.’ I send back through the link. ‘We’ll get them, but not yet. We need to let them trap themselves.’

‘Y-yes, of course. Whatever you say boss.’ Junior replies, working hard to master himself.

We take our time and follow the five from the shadows as they make their way inside the warehouse.

Junior activated his stealth as we went inside, and we followed behind them just a few hoofsteps back of the wendigos. Unlike his father, Junior can maintain his stealth field for over an hour. I doubted this would take that long.

Ugh, I had forgotten the stink those things put off. Like a musk of rotting meat and decay. The dogs were noticeably uncomfortable being near them, although Axle Grease himself seemed not to mind. I kept thinking as we followed them, that there was something ‘off’ about this warehouse. It somehow looked smaller on the inside than from when we were on the roof. Moments later I found out why.

Axle Grease and his crew had made it to the rear of the warehouse. There was hardly any light back here, the old bulbs that were hanging from the cobwebbed ceiling had long since burnt out or were broken. He was standing between two stacks of rotted out crates, the floor strewn about with rat droppings.

What was he up to?

The with a glance back at his companions, he reaches up to a section of the wall, no different looking from the rest, and slides up a small hidden panel. He reaches his hoof inside, and then we can all hear a faint ‘click’. A moment later a pony sized section of the wall retracts, and light begins to shine from inside. The five make their way inside the opening, Junior and I quickly sneaking in after them just before the wall behind me closes itself back up.

Inside, everything is much, much, different. The floor is clean and well maintained. As are the thick sturdy timbers of the reinforced walls. The ceiling here is a good ten hooves lower than the one outside and is also made of the same reinforced wood as the walls. In the center of the room is a huge steel vault, big enough to house a good sized living room or den. In front and to the side of the massive vault door there is a desk with a pony sitting behind it. Obviously a full time guard. I shook my head in admiration. The whole outer warehouse was a facade. Axle Grease was nowhere near as broke as I had believed.

I quietly made my way to the side of the pony’s desk as the group approached.

“Is the shipment secure?” Axle Grease asks.

“Yes sir,” The guard replies smartly, as he opens the door of the vault, allowing them all to step inside with me right behind. “It came in last night. Straight from the Everfree. Our ‘business associate’ tells us that this will be the last we can get until they bloom again. And like before, that will take several years.”

Inside the vault is lined with rows of empty shelves. But at the very back is a small pallet sealed in shrink wrap.

“But she was able to procure the amount we requested?” Axle Grease presses, a note of concern in his voice.

“Yes sir,” the pony says once more. “She had to all but strip the forest, but there was just enough.”

“Excellent.” Axle Grease says with barely hidden relief. He turns to face the two wendigos. “You see, nothing to worry about, not only was I able to replace what I lost, but we now have nearly double the amount. Alls well that ends well eh?” He says trying to force a smile upon his muzzle.

One of the two wendigos approaches Axle Grease and effortlessly lifts him off of the floor by his lapels with a wickedly taloned hand.

“NO AXLE GREASE,” it roars, “All is NOT well. Your bungling has already set us back years, not to mention the death of one of our tribe. Had you failed us again, your insides would festooning the walls of this structure while we sucked the marrow from your weak pony bones.”

“Y-yes, o-of course masters.”Axle Grease all but simpers. “But might I point out in my defense, that I did everything I could to procure your first shipment. It wasn’t I that slew your comrade...”

“No, it wasn’t,” the wendigo says interrupting his whining, “it was YOU,” he roars, pointing a talon straight at me as the vault door clangs shut.

BUCK ME! They knew I was here! Of course, how could I be so stupid! They track by scent. If I make it out of here alive, the first thing I’m going to do is have Celestia add a photographic memory rune to my body. Right on my ass.

‘All right Junior, looks like the time for being sneaky has passed. Let’s see if your acting lessons have paid off.’ I send through the link, as well as an image of what I am wanting to do.

Suddenly the stealth field slowly dissolves, and the six beings are treated to a visage straight out of nightmare.

Mwahahaaa. Foolish creature,” I cackle in a deep almost alien sounding voice. “You sought to trap me, and so I came. But you have made one terrible, terrible mistake. It is not I who has been trapped here with you. It is YOU who are all now trapped in here with ME!”

Axle Grease recoils in horror, the memory of our last encounter burned into his mind. He quickly scurries behind the pallet, ducking his head. His pony guard moves to loyally stand before him, while the two dogs look to the wendigos for instruction.

Meanwhile the wendigos look decidedly unimpressed. They tense their muscles, ready to strike.

“What ARE you pony thing?” The one that had spoken before asks, “I have seen the formation of this world, witnessed the rise of all of it’s creatures, but you, you are a NEW thing. How can this be?”

Formation of this world? What in the name of Celestia was it talking about?

“I?” I respond haughtily. “I am a nightmare. YOUR nightmare!”

I extend two wickedly sharp blades from my forehooves, and then teleport behind mister chatty. I swing with all of my enhanced might and manage to cut deeply into the flesh of the wendigos side.

He roars in pain, the sound all but deafening in the enclosed space of the vault, before lashing out with his claws. Junior jumps back, but isn’t quite fast enough as the screech of claw on carapace fills the room.

‘You okay?’ I send through the link.

‘Yeah, just a scratch on the armor. These things are quicker than they look, and they look demon damn fast.’

‘I know, remember our training, and don’t lose your focus. You are the strongest bug I ever met, we can do this.’

I send a wave of confidence back through the link along with my advice. None of it is fake. Junior would know if it was. But I’ve seen just how strong Bob’s offspring has become. He can do this. WE can do this.

I feel a slight weight on my shoulders. The two diamond dogs had come up from behind, and clamped there jaws onto my shoulders. A solid tactic that their ancestors used to use to take down prey, however it was next to useless against a pony in power armor. The second wendigo springs toward me, confident that I wont be able to dodge his attack with a dog on either shoulder. He might’ve been right… had I tried to dodge. Instead I cross my hooves over my shoulders, grab a dog in each of them by the muzzle, and fling them directly at the oncoming wendigo.

They crash to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Both dogs took serious damage, but all that I’ve done to the wendigo is to set it into a rage. He rises to stand, ripping the dogs to sheds to clear them from his way. I blanch inside my armor, the memories of what happened back in school forcing their way into my thoughts.

The wendigo must have sensed my hesitation because quick as lightning he attacks, slamming me into the side of the vault, shelves buckling under the impact.

“Now pony thing. Show me your secrets.” It says triumphantly, as it slowly extends its talon and presses it forward. First it pierces my armor, then, horrifyingly, it pierces into my skull. My body goes limp, and for a moment my thoughts fracture as I can feel something enter my mind. Something alien, something terrible.

“Yes, yes… I see. You are not one, but TWO beings. The outer some form of insect, powerful, yet of limited intellect. Ah, but the second one, the inner one. His mind is slippery, filled with low cunning. Like a weasel, or a ferret… Now then, who are you weasely one? Hmm.”

We are completely helpless in the wendigo’s grasp. He’s doing something inside my mind, keeping me from being able to move. Worse yet, I can feel him in there, like a worm crawling through my brain. A worm hungry for my mind, my secrets.

Dimly I become aware of a painful heat that is radiating from my side. As the fog that had been clouding my thoughts begins to lift, I realize what it is. One of Celestia’s fail safe runes had activated. It was fighting against the wendigo’s mental attack. I could feel my side burning as the rune went from red hot to near white, as more and more energy was diverted to power it. If I didn’t do something soon, my flank would be a charred ruin of flesh. Fortunately, now that I could think clearly, I found that I could move as well.

‘Junior, chest spikes. Half a dozen, five hooves long, go!’ I all but yell down the link.

Faster than the eye can see Junior sprouts the spikes I requested from our chest, impaling the wendigo and splattering us with it’s hot stinking blood.

It throws back it’s head and howls in pain, as I viciously yank the spikes back out of him, retracting them into our armor. Then, before he can react, I grab one hoof above the massive holes in his chest, and one hoof below them, and pull both hooves in opposite directions as hard as I am able.

I literally tear the wendigo in half, painting the walls with blood and gore. I turn to face the other wendigo. The wounds that I had cause earlier as still bleeding profusely, but he’s still on his feet.

Suddenly what feels like a sledge hammer hits me in the back of the head. I stagger a step, and turn to see that the pony vault guard has drawn another one of those ‘guns’ that I had seen earlier, and had it pointed directly at me. He pulls a trigger on it and my chest is slammed once more by another impact.

‘Junior,’ I send down the link. ‘Are we okay?’

‘Yeah boss, we’re holding up. It may pack a lot of concussive force, but it hasn’t been able to penetrate our armor.’

‘Good’, I send back.

I take a step toward him, but the rending of metal behind me cause me to turn once more. Oh Sweet Celestia! The friggin wendigo had ripped the massive vault door free from it’s hinges.

‘Junior, hit the dirt!’ I think, and feel him yanking me toward the floor much faster than I could have fallen, just as the massive steel door passes overhead to impact the wall behind me.

I rise to my hooves, extending my blades once more, but the wendigo, after tossing his would be discus, has already made his escape. I then turn to confront Axle Grease and his lone remaining guard.

And nearly throw up inside my armor.

I don’t know if it was intentional, or just bad luck, but there wasn’t much left of either one of them outside of a thin bloody paste. The vault door had impacted the steel wall directly over their heads, and then gravity looked up and said ‘hi, we should be friends’, and brought the door squarely down on top of them, crushing them in a really horrible fashion. Then right before my eyes, the contents of the shattered pallet started pouring out and mixing with the already bloody floor. As soon as the two substances met, the blood and guts and ichor began to change and transform. Several butterflies arose and took flight. And a large sickly looking toad emerged and quickly tried to hop away, but found himself blocked by all the falling shelving.

“Poison Joke,” Junior said, confirming what I already guessed.

“By the Sky Stallion, that’s a hell of a way to go.” I mutter, scooping up the toad, unsure of whether it was Axle Grease, his guard, or a horrible combination of the two.

“I guess this is it then.” Junior said, his tone unreadable. “We got the pony in charge, and took out another one of those bastards. A shame we couldn’t get the last of them though. We’ve never been able to find a trace of them before now, and who knows where he’ll end up.”

I reach down and pick up the gun that the guard pony dropped. This is the second one of those I had seen today. And they only came from one place. One city.

“No Junior, we didn’t get the ‘boss’. Axle Grease called the wendigos his ‘master’. As for where he’s going, I think I have a pretty good idea. C’mon. I need to go see the boss. I think we are going to have to relocate in the very near future.”

“Relocate? You have a lead? Were are we going?”

“Whinnyappleous. Or as it is better known as, Sin Whinny.”

Junior’s memory is processed in less than a second. And then in the space of an eye blink I realize what triggered it. It’s was the Alpha’s voice.

“My my my. Looks like you’ve grown into your big boy pants since the last time we met.” I taunt the hulking brute. “Tell me, does that wound still itch? Ache when it gets cold? Oh wait, you guys LIKE the cold. Oh, I bet that must cause all kinds of issues. Tell you what,” I say drawing out my twin blades once more, as Junior covers us in wickedly sharp spikes, “why don’t you come down here and let’s see if I can make all your pain go away.”

The Alpha roars, his voice loud enough to shatter whatever windows that had remained unbroken until now. Then he tenses his legs and prepares to spring forward, muzzle foaming, and claws hungry for my death.

“Um boss?” Junior says, hesitantly.

“Little busy here,” I send back at lightning speed.

“Yeah, I know. Thing is, normally I couldn’t be happier about you taunting that son of a bitch into a one on one battle to the death...”

I sensed a ‘but’ coming on…

“I sense a ‘but’ coming on. Better spit it out quick son.”

“Ahem, yes. Well, you remember awhile back when I said our power level was down to fifty percent? Well, we are down a wee bit more since then.”

Oh crap.

“How MUCH more?” I say, dread starting to creep up on me.

“Five percent.” He replies.

“We are down five percent? Whew! Junior you scared the crap out of me for a second there, forty-five percent should be enough to handle-”

“No boss, I mean five percent as in ‘we only have five percent total power left’.”

The Alpha wendigo springs toward me, his muzzle howling in unrestrained rage.

“Oh... buck... me.”