“Admiral?”

The older gentleman taps his pen, looking at the paper. Unicorns, pegasi, earth ponies, this is all hard to believe. A war has almost started over this once already. Both Australia and America have lost good men due to unrest and attacks in the Middle East over them.

“Admiral.”

Signing his name he closes his folder. Tapping the cover a few times, he looks up at the Captain in the doorway. “Yes, John?”

“We are in position now. If you want, you can view things on the display.” The captain says.

“John, I’m an old timer, I’d rather see this in reality than on some screen.” Standing up, he takes a deep breath. Stepping out of his office, he walks up the stairs. “Has everyone checked in?”

“Yes sir.” The Captain nods and follows the Admiral.

Stepping outside into the wind, he puts on his cap to help shield his eyes. He smiles, looking around. Seagulls are flying overhead in the bright sun of the day. There are hardly any clouds in the sky right now.

“What’s the count?” The admiral says, looking around as the bow of the aircraft carrier cuts through the water slowly, heading out to sea with fierce determination.

“The Bush was repaired in record time, she’s got replacement aircraft from Pearl. We have three carriers, twelve cruisers, sixteen destroyers, and an amphibious assault ship.”

“That gives us the USS Ronald Reagan, USS GW Bush, and the USS George Washington.” The Admiral looks around and scans the horizon at the assembled fleet. Nodding, he looks back at the carrier’s captain. “And then Australia’s destroyers, they want in on this.”

“After their losses? Yes.” The captain nods. “We are awaiting your call, sir.”

“Raise the flag, let’s get the fleet underway.” The Admiral orders.

“All stations, all stations, make speed twenty knots!”

*** Streams ***

“I have a sister.” Streams lays on her back on her bed.

Drizzle giggles, “You’ve been saying that for hours.”

“Come on, in a short time I go from being a nobody, with no special skills, who everyone forgot was her birthday. To being a pegasus pony that no one really knows but ponies are nice to, who has a sister.” Streams flops her head to the side and looks at Drizzle.

“I know right. And just cuz you’re not famous on the show, doesn’t mean you weren’t famous in Equestria. Come on, wealthy family, unicorn blood in you, world renowned endurance flyer.” Drizzle giggles.

“I guess.”

“Look at me! I’m not Dash, Dust, or even Cloud Kicker, I’m Drizzle.” She spreads her wings wide, “In the show I got a few speaking roles, been shown around Canterlot and Ponyville, but no one really knows me either.” Looking back at her cutie mark she giggles, “And I love it.”

Reaching over, Streams grabs a stuffed Lightning Dust and pulls it into a hug. “Love it?”

“Yeah, think about it this way. Say I was Fluttershy. Well then everyone knows who I would be, what I could do, how I should and would act. No mystery, no fun. But since there isn’t a lot in the fandom about me, I get to be who I am, not what or who people expect.”

“So no pressure and no expectations, good point.” Streams says and rubs her face against the doll.

Drizzle turns on the TV and flops down beside Streams, starting to preen her wings. “So do you have any ideas on the offer to join the 520th squadron?”

“Yeh, I’d be working for my sister. Yuck.” Streams says, giggling. “I don’t know, maybe part time to start.”

Leaning over, Drizzle starts to preen Streams' wing.

“Ack, you’ve got your own feathers!” Streams says, giggling and hugs Drizzle.

“Yep but mine don’t act pouty on me.”

“I’m not pouting, I’m thinking. I know it’s hard to tell, but if I was pouty my ears would be flatter.” Streams says, smiling brightly.

“I just have to decide what to do about my apartment.”

“Yeah, that place is not pony friendly. No tub, just a stand up shower that you can hardly stand in. Narrow kitchen, and the spacing is so small you can’t fly to get up to the higher shelves safely.”

“Yeah, but it’s all I can really afford.” Streams says, tossing the stuffed doll up into the air and catching it.

“Now, though, you can think outside of the box. Look at this place. Remember when we had to consider bus, driving or even walking distance? Now we can consider flying distance. It’s a 10 minute flight to the office, even at a slow flyers speed of 60mph that’s still a six mile radius for ponies.”

“Dear Celestia, for speedsters…” Streams blinks.

“Exactly, now you drop, say a ten mile circle on the map, ignore bridges, rivers, and whatever. That’s your home range from work. All of a sudden what would be a two hour commute for some, becomes a ten minute hop for you.” Drizzle says, smiling

Rolling over, Streams turns on the tablet, looking at the screen and blinking.

“Umm, no more of how far is it to the nearest grocery store,” Streams giggles, “Since I can fly faster than a car. You know, it’s scary, I couldn’t get a driver’s license, let alone a pilot’s.”

“And now you can break the sound barrier. Yep, that’s dangerous.” Drizzle giggles and rubs her cheek against Streams.

“They said I could get out of my lease due to medical. Since I can’t use the bathroom, shower, or kitchen, I qualify under special conditions.” Streams nuzzles Drizzle back softly.

“Well don’t worry, you can stay here 'till you find a place.”

“Really?”

“Really, really.” Drizzle said hugging her tight. “Best friends after all, and yes, your sister can come to visit whenever she wants.”

***

Kneeling down, he puts his hand gently on her back. “You’re sure about this?”

“With their help, it won’t be a problem.” She nods.

“You won’t hurt yourself, doing this?” He asked, worry on his face.

She shakes her head, “Again, I just need to concentrate for a short time, with the help from the others this shouldn’t be an issue. Breaking it up shouldn’t be a problem either. We won’t let it get too bad.”

Nodding they take one last look at the map before heading out on deck. Looking to the pegasi, Blue Lagoon lights her horn up and they get to work. Within a short time, Carrier Task Force 70.3 is cloaked in what meteorologists will call Tropical Depression Lupit.

The newly formed tropical depression is tracking west at nineteen knots, heading in an arc towards the Philippine islands. Scientists predict a 67% chance of it increasing to typhoon status, with a potential of striking the Philippines in eight days.

Ships will quickly be re-charting courses to take themselves out of harm’s way. May smaller islands in the storm’s path start to put out weather warnings, planning on recalling fishing fleets as the storm grows closer.

No one will see the fleet coming. No one even knows it is there. Task Force 70.3 steams on happily, under the dense clouds and heavy thermals that mask their signatures.

*** White Lightning ***

White Lightning touches down, panting hard, looking at Fleetfoot and Blaze. Her wings hurt, her legs are sore, her lungs are on fire. She stands on all fours on the cloud, trembling, as she looks at the two speedsters.

“Better.” Blaze says, nodding, “But you’re still not tucking your legs enough.”

Fleetfoot shakes her head, “I’m pregnant, and even I can do better than that.” Fleetfoot says sternly.

“Celestia, I can’t believe I trained under you two.” She moans.

“Don’t worry; we’ll get you back into shape in no time.” Blaze says.

Lying down on the cloud Lightning whimpers. “Come on… it can’t be that hard. You two mastered it already.”

“Yep and it took us more than a few days to do.” Fleetfoot says seriously. “It’s not just muscle memory. It’s also skill, and technique. We’re training you in this so you should get it down in a day or so rather than the weeks it’s been taking others.”

“You also need to build up your energy reserves, remember flying is also about magic… until you can fully tap into that again, you’re going to feel sluggish in flight. Without your magic, you can’t fly, can’t cloud walk, and can’t control the weather. ” Blaze says nodding sagely.

“Can I just die now? Bury me on this cloud.” White Lightning moans.

“Nope, Washington is about one hundred seventy miles from here. We are doing this hop transonic. We should be there in ten minutes.” Fleetfoot says and nods to Blaze.

Nodding back, they both buck the cloud, causing it to disintegrate before shooting off for Washington DC. The flightpath has already been cleared direct flight, 32,000 feet, Mach .90. No air traffic is in their path so it’s a direct hop.

Screaming as she falls, White Lightning rights herself and shoots off after the other two speedsters. “That wasn’t fair!”

As she catches up, she falls into formation with the other two. Fleetfoot taking the lead, Blaze on her right wing, Lightning falling into place on her left. Her goggles show their flight altitude as well as speed, but she could guess both fairly well.

Looking around Lightning is in heaven. She’s flying again on her own. It isn’t an F-16 but this is better in some ways. It is freedom, with rules of course, but still freedom. She shifts a glance to Blaze and Fleetfoot and smiles. The sky is theirs, they own it, while planes just rent it and pay for it with fuel. They lived in it, they can even build in it if they wanted, sleep on clouds, only coming down for food.

“Flight group three, 520 control, please verify your status.”

Lightning tilts her head as the call comes over her earpiece. “520 this is Lightning, we are at flight level three two thousand, holding steady at Mach zero point nine zero.”

“Flight group three, please squawk.”

All three ponies hit their squawk buttons, and two blue dots light up on their goggles.

“520 this is Lightning, I’m showing two targets on intercept closing on us, squawking 5100.” Lightning says, looking off in the distance. They are still too far out for even a pegasus to see, but the goggles show their position based on transponder information.

“F-16’s of Washington air guard. They have been informed, but want visual verification.”

“In other words they want to see pegasi in flight.” Blaze calls out.

“Idiots.” Fleetfoot says.

“520, this is Fleetfoot, is our reverse course clear?” Fleetfoot says, looking behind her.

“Affirmative, reverse is clear back to Fort Bragg.”

“520, do we have permission to hit supersonic speeds? If these boys want photo ops, they can get them on the ground, and not waste military time and fuel.” Fleetfoot looks at Lightning, who whimpers.

“Roger that, but only above four zero thousand feet.”

Nodding, all three pegasi do an Immelmann, climbing out to forty thousand feet and accelerating out past mach one. Once on a heading for Fort Bragg, all three accelerate out to Mach 1.6. Keeping in tight formation, they head for the base, though Lightning’s wings are killing her. She is going to need to sleep after this.

Their pursuers break off the chase after sixty miles, heading back to their patrol station. Chasing some pegasi half way across the state would never be accepted as justified. As it is, a formal complaint will be lodged.

Slowing up over the fort, the trio look at each other.

“IHOP?” Blaze asks with a smile.

Both mares nod vigorously.

All three dive for the IHOP. Dinner’s calling.

*** Henry ***

Henry lies on his back, relaxing on the grass. Beside him, Sugarberry snuggles close, laying her head on his chest. One of the few quiet times they have between their jobs. The shade from the tree keeps the full force of the sun off of them.

Stroking Berry’s mane Henry chuckles, “Ever feel like you’ve got stalkers?”

“I don’t care.” Berry says, yawning, putting her foreleg more over his chest. “I’m comfy, I’m tired. And I don’t care how many human kids watch us. I’m your little pony.”

Laughing softly, Henry picks a dandelion and softly bats Berry’s nose with it. “Blaze and Fleetfoot are training White Lightning, a new pegasus speedster.”

“Yep, and office…” Sniffing, Berry snaps at the flower biting it, then chewing a bit, before continuing, “Work is going smoothly. It’s surprising how much work piles up when you leave an officer in charge.”

“Yep, it’s the NCO’s that run the army, the officers are just along for the ride.” Henry says with a chuckle.

Picking another dandelion Henry smiles as she nibbles on it. “Tasty?”

“Actually they are not bad. They are edible, even for humans.” Sugarberry points out, trying to look innocent. “Just don’t try serving me a grass and dandelion sandwich, that’s for Velvet’s daughter.”

“Incoming devastation squad.” Henry says, making Sugarberry look up as Feather comes charging up, followed by the twins.

“Hi there Candy, hey girls.” Sugarberry says, before laying her head back down.

Feather walks up and sits in front of Henry, “I know you don’t like being a unicorn or being reminded of Equestria.” Feather starts, giving him huge sad eyes. “But I needed a way to thank you for giving me my wings back. There are no words or real way I could ever thank you for that.”

“Oh Feather, it’s not that I didn’t like being a unicorn, it just… not who I am. And I’m definitely not a pink unicorn.” Chuckling Henry hugged Sugerberry a bit. “You were meant to be ponies, and had that take away from you by the curse. Me? I’m just a kid from Florida.”

Sitting on her haunches, Feather holds out a box to Henry. “To me you will always be a pony but as a thank you. Here, I got a gift for you.”

Chuckling softly, Henry opens the box. He looks inside and tilts his head, “An old stuffed doll?”

“Not just any doll, it’s a replica Smarty-Pants doll!” She says with a giggle. “I looked it up online. Must have been custom made, cuz they weren’t sold like this. Also it even smells like burnt apple wood…”

Sniffing it, Henry blinks and shakes his head vigorously, “Yep, needs a washing.”

“I wouldn’t. It has a nice earthy, pony smell to it.” Sugarberry giggles.

Pulling Feather into a hug, Henry rubs his face against hers. “Well it’s the thought that counts. So thank you, it’s a very special gift.”

Cloudy and Candy quickly moved over to sit beside them as well.

“You want hugs too?”

“Nope.” Cloudy says, shaking her head. “It’s safer here. The kids are looking at us again.”

Sugarberry lifts her head to look around and just can’t help but giggle.

“At least their parents warned them not to come over unless invited.” Henry says, “I think after the movie theater incident the base counsellor talked with the families.”

“It wasn’t our fault.” Feather whimpers.

“I know, I know, it’s the pony curse.” Henry says, chuckling. “It’s another good reason for me not being pink. As a human I can protect you.”

Sugarberry laughs softly as she stands up. “Okay kids, lets head home, your mom should have dinner ready.”

*** Velvet ***

Humming softly as I work in the kitchen, “You know Fleur, you are the first repeat in my class.”

Stirring the stew pot, Fleur giggles “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I have so much trouble controlling my TK.”

“I do, it’s your concentration.” I say while pulling down some seasonings from the shelf.

Checking the rice, Fleur sighs, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I try hard to focus on things and…”

“Nope that’s your problem. You focus too much. You concentrate too much on something. You’re putting all your strength into holding something still, but think about how you worked with your hand. Did you have to put all your strength into gripping a pencil?” I say, adding some salt to the rice.

“No but it’s not the same.” Fleur says.

“Are you sure? You’re distracted right now, not thinking about what you’re doing and you’re having no problem holding the spoons, cups and such.” Tossing the salad I smile as it starts to dawn on her.

“But…” Fleur blinks, looking around.

“Yep, it’s why you are also having so much trouble with your gun qualification. You’re concentrating too hard on the gun on holding it and such. Then when it comes to pulling the trigger you focus on that and jerk it hard.” I say, smiling at her.

“I can shoot energy blasts, why do I need a gun?” Fleur mumbles.

Laughing softly I set the table. “First, cuz we are playing by human rules. Second cuz firing energy blasts is something we like to keep secret. That whole fear thing. Third, collateral damage. You don’t want to go vaporizing a bus when you’re trying to shoot one person now do you?”

“Ok, you have a point.” Fleur says, picking up the food and helping me set the table.

Feather slides across the floor sideways and hops into her chair, looking innocent.

“Did you wash your hooves?” I ask, smiling.

“Mom…if I wash my hooves, they are clean, then I put them down on the floor and walk in here they get dirty again. So why?”

“Nice try, but you know the floor is cleaner than outside. And I’m not talking about germs and such, I’m talking about oil, anti-freeze, and other things you can step in on the roadways.” She may be twenty-five but she acts like a foal sometimes.

Sighing she gets out of her chair and walks back into the bathroom, “Yes mom.”

Fleur giggles softly. Taking a seat herself at the table, she looks over at the foals as they come in from the bathroom and sit down as well.

“You’re becoming a little cook yourself.” Fleur says, smelling the food.

“Thanks, I sort of remember how to do most of the stuff now. I just can’t find some ingredients sometimes, or worse, can’t figure out the human equivalent to it.”

“To what?” Fleur asks, confused.

I shrug and shake my head, “Well there’s the truly exotic stuff like zap apples, or crystal berries, but there’s also spices and such that I used in Equestrian cooking that I have no idea what they are in earth cooking. And some of it was strange.”

“Strange how?” Fleur looks concerned and confused.

“Okay, consider this for a second. Dandelion Coffee.” I say and shake my head.

“Wha? Really?”

“Really, I have no idea how it was made but I remember drinking it in mornings sometimes.” I just shake my head. “I use to get it at Donut Joe’s.”

Fleur giggled, “Not PonyBucks?”

“Too expensive.” I say as Ballad, Cipher, and Ah-Pee join the table.

Touching her hooves together, Fleur bows her head. “Thank you Celestia for the sun that helps the plants grow to give us this bounty of food. And thank you Luna for protecting our nights and dreams so we can sleep well have the strength to do our chores during the day.”

Blinking, I look at Fleur. “Where did that come from?”

“I… have no idea.”

***

Light floods into the cargo container as two humans walked in, one holding a cattle prod. Looking at the little pony, they walk forward slowly, not wanting to take any chances but the pony doesn’t seem to notice or care.

Leaning down, one of the humans affixes a rope to the halter on the pony's face. “Tut, tut.”

Standing up obediently, Cherry Blossom walks out of the container, squinting. There are other ponies on deck, some resisting, others are in worse shape than she is. Anger and rage fill her, but she knows better than to show it. She’s seen worse in her lifetime.

“She seems passive enough, we can use her.” One human calls out, his speech is Arabic but heavily accented. It sounds almost Malayic to her.

She stands still as heavy packs are put onto her back. Her eyes dart around looking for details, scents, sounds. She takes everything in she can. Where they were sending the others, where they were moving cargo.

She follows the men obediently, letting them guide her where they want. The people here are slave traders, arms dealers and rebels. They make their money by raiding merchant ships, kidnapping the crew and selling them back to the companies for millions. Ponies are just the latest expansion of their operation.

There are children here too. She could see some as young as nine being taught how to use rifles. They couldn’t even shoulder the weapons, so are firing them from the hip. She could also see signs of drug use, the drug trade is big business in many areas. It’s also a form of control. Addicting children to drugs, then making them commit piracy to get the money for more drugs.

She is lead up to a warehouse where her packs are unloaded, before she’s lead back towards the ship. From what she could see, it isn’t a large city, maybe twenty or thirty thousand people. The temperature, smells, people, tell her she is either in the Philippines, Malaysia, or maybe the islands of Samaru.

The next load of cargo is placed on her back and they start the trip again to the warehouse. Again she watches, looking around, every piece of information might be useful, important in the days to come. When the hammer falls, there wouldn’t be time to figure things out, she needs to do this now.

In a place where they treat humans worse than animals, it sometimes pays to act like a broken animal.

*** Cipher ***

Yawning, Cipher scratches her mane out. Standing up on her bed, she gives her whole body a stretch and shake. Velvet's dinner knocked her right out, she really overate, but the stew was just so good.

Heading into the bathroom she did her morning business, including a quick shower. Next is the most important part of the day, her coffee.

Heading into the kitchen she breaks out a Keurig pod and puts it into her coffee maker. Loading her favorite mug into the machine, she selects large and turns, getting ready for work. Getting dressed is easy and quick for a unicorn. Even the boots go on easily.

Blinking, she flicks an ear, something is wrong. Narrowing her eyes, she looks at the display, which is flashing 'Error'. Blinking, she checks the water reservoir as well as the pod. Picking up the brewer, she shakes it a few times then looks. Error.

“Oh well, let’s do it the old fashioned way.” She grumbles.

Turning, she grabbed the glass pot for her drip coffeemaker. Turning on the water, she puts the pot under the water then flinches. A loud crack fills the air. Slowly pulling out the pot she looks at a spider crack running down the side and bottom of her pot.

“Oh for Celestia’s sake!”

Grumbling she turns to head out. She’d have to get coffee at the shop on her way to work. She grabs her saddlebags, putting them on her back. She closes and locks her door, and heads out, looking over at Sugarberry.

“Hey girl, another day at the races?” Sugarberry says, smiling.

“Yeah, ugg.”

“Where’s your coffee?” Sugarberry asks, then gulps at the scowl directed at her.

“Both my coffee makers broke.”

“Starbucks at PX?” Sugarberry asks as they trot side by side.

“Eeyup.”

Ballad falls into step, “Girls.”

“Hey Ballad, how goes the courses with Prime Power"” Sugarberry asks.

“Oh man, I love it. It’s a lot of work and a lot of studying, but I’m having fun.” Ballad says, “I’ll get my license, but they already know I can cheat in certain parts. Not skimping in safety, I just don’t have to touch anything.”

“Yeah… I know.” Sugarberry smiles.

“What’s with Cipher? She’s not bouncy and her mane isn’t usually that…frizzy.”

“No coffee.” Sugarberry says.

“Ouch.”

Walking into the Base Exchange, Ballad trots over to get some things from the pony isle with Sugarberry. Cipher heads over to the Starbucks and pushes on the door, only to be met with a thunk as her face hits the door. Cipher blinks and shakes the door, looking at it, but it is firmly locked. She leans to the side and reads the sign.

Closed for maintenance.

Cipher screams in frustration. Her mane puffs out a bit and frizzes more. Looking around, she heads over to meet up with the girls at the registers, snarling.

“What?”

“Closed.” Cipher snarls.

“Don’t worry, there’s always the headquarters break room.” Sugarberry says, smiling.

“I know.” Cipher says, and gnashes her teeth.

Ballad breaks off at headquarters, continuing on to the school while Sugarberry and Cipher continue inside. Once in, Sugarberry heads for her desk in the front, she is the poster foal for military ponies. The face every officer at HQ sees when they come in.

Cipher, on the other hand, heads for the basement, for her computer lab. Her office isn’t spacious, it isn’t glamourous, or at least not to the common person. It is cold, kept around 15 degrees C, but she has a built in fur coat. It is dimly lit, but pony eyes are larger than human eyes. It has big 54 inch plasma displays on the wall, a massive Emperor Series computer chair with three 32 inch monitors and two 24 inch monitors. It has a direct link to the Pentagon, to cyberwarfare, to cybercrimes.

All it is missing is a coffee maker.

Powering her chair and turning on the monitors, she looks up at the center screen. “Hey ma’am, Cipher checking in, I’ll be up and ready in ten minutes. Anything on the board?”

On the screen the officer of the day looks up, “Hey Cipher, when am I going to ever get to see what you really look like?”

Blinking Cipher tilts her head, “Pardon?”

“I know you cyber geeks like your avatars, but I always find it strange talking to a real time CGI unicorn.” He says. “Won’t mind seeing the real you once in a while. As to the boards, chatter about the usual groups but nothing special. There was an attempted hack on the Pentagon last night domestically, nothing of interest.”

Covering her face with a forehoof Cipher shakes her head. “I need a coffee. I can’t deal with this without it. Thanks sir, back in ten.”

Walking upstairs, she heads for the break room, as one of only two unicorns that work at Special Forces Command, she still gets a few strange looks from the locals, but today… Everyone is keeping their distance.

Walking into the breakroom she freezes and narrows her eyes. The spot where the large fifty cup coffee pot was, is empty. It’s gone, as are all the Styrofoam cups. Not that she needs one, she has her own mug but this was getting to be unacceptable.

Tilting her head back, looking up at the ceiling she huffs and looks around. One desk corporal looks over at her.

“Problem?”

“Where… is the coffee machine.” She snarls.

“Big brass is having a meeting today in room three. They brought it in there with the cups, whiteners and even the sugar,” He says.

Tipping her head back, she lets out a frustrated and exasperated huff before turning and storming out. The idea of teleporting in, grabbing coffee and teleporting out crosses her mind, but no. She likes her job.

Trotting back down to her office, she climbs into her chair and reclines back, putting her legs up on the rest. There may be human hackers in the world, there may be unicorn hackers in the world. This however, is her special talent. This is her cutie mark, this is her magic.

Spawning up screens, she gets to work and she is not a happy unicorn. She brings up the attempted intrusion list for the day. She needs something to focus her rage on. The rest of her team comes up on the other monitors. Her horn glowing, she cycles through screens and data as fast as her magic will allow.

“Hey Cipher what’s with the mane?”

“No coffee.” Cipher says as she works.

Will chuckles, “Umm should I just put us on Defcon-1 now and be done with it?”

“Might be a plan.” Cipher says.

“So what’s the plan?”

“Wait for the first person to piss me off.” Cipher growls.

“And then?”

“Throw a virus in their computer, disable their CPU fans and coolant, overclock their CPU to 4x its rating, and start a feedback charge into their battery system.” Cipher says.

The other techs cringe, “Umm, why not just blast them with your horn, less damage.”

“Don’t make me reach though my monitor and grab you.” Cypher says.

The door to her office opens, “Cipher.”

Looking over she sees Cpl Price, one of the gofers around the office. “I brought coffee.”

“Oh thank Celestia… Crisis averted.”

Reaching out with her magic, she grabs the cup and takes one sip. One sip she wished she had never taken. One sip is all it takes to know something is horribly, horribly, wrong. Slowly, she looks up at the corporal. “What… is this?”

“Instant decaf, I didn’t know how you take it, so I added some sweet and low and soy milk to be safe.”

Instant coffee to most real drinkers isn’t coffee. It’s used to thicken real coffee that isn’t strong enough. Decaf is a swear word to cyber warfare, the true point to coffee is the caffeine, if not available, Mountain Dew Extreme works, or other such high caffeine drinks. Decaf however…

“So this is a caffeine free… coffee substitute with lactose free artificial milk, and artificial sweetener?”

“You might want to start running.” Will calls over the computer screen.

Ciphers eyes blazes red with fire. “With flavor added in just to cover up the fact that it’s not coffee.”

The corporal takes a few steps back, “Umm, I think I hear an air raid drill, I should be in the bunker…”

With a powerful yell, Ciphers horn flashes…

*** Blizzard Entertainment ***

“What was that?” The systems network tech says.

The operator blinks, “No idea, but server lag just went to 2 seconds, and every user just dropped connection.”

“Looks like its calming down now. But I just got a strange error on our web page.”

The network tech leans over and blinks. “’Java Compilation error, insufficient coffee?’ I’ve never seen that before.”

*** Cipher ***

Huffing Cipher shakes herself out, her horn smoking a bit. A second later all the screens reconnect. All the staff looks confused, “What was that?”

“I need…. Coffee…” Cipher says and turns, storming out of the room.

Author's Notes: