Catalyst ch 8: Plan B (complete)

>”I'm not normally one to say this about you Twilight, but this is a bad idea.”
>Shining Armor eyed her from the side, a brow raised.
>The “pending legal issue” had been submitted for processing, which Twilight had said was the fancy way of LunaCorp. Telling the lot of you to sit in a corner until the adults were done talking.
>”If it's us asking, they really aren't going to be very inclined.” Twilight replied. “It was the company name that was attacked, and they know his face.”
>She pointed at you, while you nursed some of the cuts and bruises on your face from Rarity's well-earned outburst.
>She had a point there... But...
>”Shining, please.” Rarity interjected. “You trusted her as your partner for your protective detail, why not this?”
>Rarity trotted around Mjolna, eying the mare over from various angles.  She'd had to strip the armor for this bad idea, and Rarity was making adjustments to have the over-sized armor cover be more representative of a civilian from the Celestia Conglomerate.
>You were all in the luggage area, having sifted through to find a suitable outfit for the bodyguard mare. Without finding one (she was a bit too large, it seemed, for any of Rarity's or Twilight's garb), it was plan B.
>Rarity was busying herself nicely with the white-gold outfit, trying to keep her attention off of you for the time being. You couldn't blame her.
>”Besides, even if she wasn't up for this, it's still three against two in a vote.  After all...” she gives a quick, curt point to you.
>”I'm sure he's quite intent on getting this... resolved as much as we are.”

“You're not usually one for understatements.”
>”Hmph.” She turns her nose up. “Finished.” she trots off, without another word, and stands next to the door.
>Mjolna looks herself over, lifting one hoof, then the other. She poses, one hand to her chest.
>”No no, dear. You're a civilian for now, remember?”
>Mjolna pffts and waves it off.
>”Much better.” Rarity said. “Besides, she is a lady, and I'm sure she'll be able to handle a few knots in the rope.”
>Shining Armor sighs.
>”We have legal backups in case the grass hits the fan, so relax.” Twilight slapped her brother's shoulder.
>”And the music?”
>Twilight swipes a hoof.  “I tweaked the AR audio mixer just in case. It'll hit her, but the sound will be distorted enough it won't do anything to her.”
>”Really, Twilight. Do you have to cover your bases so well with a bad idea?”
>She punches his shoulder. It doesn't register against his armor.
>”And you.” She points.  “I want you to stay with Shining.  Apparently they wanted something out of this, and we're going to find out what. But we still have to play it safe.”
“You say that like I feel like going anywhere.”
>you flip the ice pack over and press it back to your face.
>Twilight points to Mjolna. “Okay, you know the plan. Head back to the club and make sure you AR uplink is firewalled.  I don't want a signal hijack.”
>She salutes.
>You stumble out of the luggage area behind them.
>Shining Armor leans down to you. “Just between you and me, this isn't going to be pretty. Mjolna's methods never are.”
>An inelegant mare in a nightclub asking questions about a three way.
>Fine. Neat.  Fuck.

>You sat yourself on the couch, watching the display upon the flatscreen monitor within the hotel room that Twilight had hastily, if efficiently, rigged up.
>It was the view from Mjolna's AR vision, a similar method to the recording you had presented before.
>It had a few distinct effects, however, that threw you off- number one, was you could tell when she blinked.
>You don't remember ever blinking on your own recording, but your logical side still rang from the hoofprints Rarity had decorated you with.
>”No,” Twilight said. “Ignore the guards, they're going to feed you the same legal line and get suspicious.”
>She visibly eyes them up and down. She makes a  repeated jerking motion with her hoof toward one.
>Facehoof.jpg
>The two stallions look at each other and smirk. One lifts a wing and gestures her in, rolling his eyes and mentioning something about being on duty.
>”huh. That. hm.”  Twilight doesn't realize she's already far beyond the point of actual control.
>You can see the recording flicker quickly a bit, rather fast to follow.
>She just eyed up both sides of the entrance in an instant.
>Then focused on a slow, left to right scan of the room.  Her eyes pause on particular moments, and it takes you a moment to react to what she's doing.
>She's pausing on the dark blue uniforms of off-duty LunaCorp. Guards, able to discern who they are despite the light of the club.  Moments later, seven blips appear.
>AR pings. A list appears, in tiny print on the left, allowing her to keep track of her collected targets.
>She promptly labels the control group “Moron,” with a number value next to them in order to keep track more effectively.
>What the fuck, lady. It's not even past the fifteen second mark and you've got these guys labeled in that club?

>She keeps her focus on one particular one.
“Can... Can she please stop staring at that guys flank?”
>A text prints onto the screen.
>Mjolna: Shut up, I like the uniform.
>He's chatting with somep0ny, and as you all watch, a familiar face peers past him.
>Somep0ny very familiar.
>It's that gray, long haired Octavia bitch.
“There, THERE!”
>You stand and point, a hoof to the table. You then cringe, sitting back down as the pain sets back in.
“That's one of them.  But, she doesn't speak english. Couldn't understand a word.”
>”Then I guess we can't ask her without having to direct link a translation. That could compromise the firewall. What about him?”
>Mjolna approaches as casually as she can, her eyes still on his ass.
“really, stop staring.”
>Mjolna: I'm acting.
>You eye the others in the room with you. Rarity is observing the screen with a discerning, analytical look. Twilight has a smirk.
>Goddamnit.

>Octavia peers past him, her eyes having caught Mjolna. She gives a disdainful raise of her brow before returning, for the sake of image, to her conversation with him.
>Mjolna keeps staring, the focus flicking to a badge on his shoulder for the instant Octavia wasn't trying to stare her down.
 >The control group name backspaces quickly, and reprints as “officer.”
>”Oh he'll definitely know something.” Twilight says.
>To everyone else in the room, it's obvious.  This plan was out of her hooves and fully into Mjolna's a long, long time ago, Ms. Sparkle.
“If he's mingling with her, doesn't that mean she has control?”
>”Not if he's got enough to think as an officer in LunaCorp. They're notoriously well trained for zero-g, that requires a lot of open, adaptive thought.”
>Rarity snorted.
>That statement did not grant you any points for your team.
>Mjolna continued her approach, her movements subtle enough to avoid bumping into anyp0ny by centimeters along her sides.  Her movement was slick, her eyes accurate...
>It was playing out like watching some expert speedrunning a game.
>Even with her demeanor, Shining had definitely picked the right mare for this detail.
>Octavia peered past him again as she finally got to a suitable range. Mjolna kept her vision mostly locked on the stallion's blue-clad ass, but the corner allowed her to see Octavia's response.
>She was less than pleased.
>”Il me semble que vous avez un admirateur.” she said. She smiled back at him.  As he turned to look back at Mjolna, she gave a cool sneer, and proceeded to leave.
>Twilight pauses a moment to translate it on her own, her AR vision printing something out over the sclera.
>”She's not using the real dialect, some auto-translated garbage and an audio modulator.”
“That... Fake... Bitch!”
>”Probably for the audio control, I'm detecting some kind of pattern in the vocal unit. But why would she let him go like this?”
>She turns back to the display, and by then, the guard has turned to face Mjolna.
>Mjolna makes a gesture to the bar.  Then another jerking motion.
>Wouldyoufuckingstopthat.jpg
>As they walk, she looks up at him, making some kind of discussion. The song of the club intertwines with her voice, garbling the signal, and you can't make out what she's saying.
>even without hearing, however, you can tell just by the look on the stallion's face.
>This was not a particularly... Delicate conversation.

>And he was welcoming it, however nervous about bystanders overhearing.
>As they sat, he began to speak. The signal was still quite unclear, only gaining pieces of words to connect to one another.
>After some fiddling and toying, Twilight still couldn't manage a clear reception.
>”We aren't going to have any kind of case like this, Twilight.” Rarity said.
>”The audio filter I put in is pushing the club music out, but it's mingling the music with the voice! The local protection signals are fine, but there's too much interference from it!”
>The stallion is in the middle of a sentence you can't understand.  Mjolna prints a display on screen.
>Mjolna: Plan B.
>Shining Armor puts a hoof to his face. “Oh god.”
>Twilight looks back to the screen, then her brother. “What? What's plan b?”
>”It's standard protocol for recon ops on suspected targets. Non-lethal takedown and capture for interrogation purposes.”
>Twilight lets out a distinct “huh?”
>The stallion produces a cigarette, saying something with a broader smirk.
>She asks for one, and waves at the bartender for a drink.
>”What is she doing?”

>She tips her head to the cigarette he offers, as he lights it. He hides away the lighter and starts puffing on his own, while she lifts the drink from the just-arrived, rectangular tray.
>”That had better be non-alcoholic.” Shining says.
>Mjolna: Gotta play the part right? Don't worry boss, I got this.  Meet me at the infirmary.
>”Infirmary?” Twilight asks. “Whoa whoa, this isn't how this the game is supposed to be played.”
>Mjolna: He'll live.
>Mjolna starts to talk again. Barely half the drink is gone before she starts to say things that have the stallion wiggling in his seat, shifting his vision away in attempts to escape.
>Her vision seems fine; the amount she's had doesn't seem to be affecting her.
>All the while, Shining is shifting where he stands, as if he doesn't want to watch.
>She eventually leans over onto the stallion, loudly saying indiscerable warble to him. He leans lightly away, feigning a laugh.
>She pokes him in the chest with her free arm, the drink arm on his shoulder. She tips the rest of the high-proof booze into his lap, making no motion to acknowledge she's done so, as if already obliviously drunk.
>By now, ponies are starting to take notice.

>”I am so very sorry you have to witness this.” Shining says.
>”What? Why?” Rarity and Twilight respond in unison.
>”I was talking to him.” He points to you.
“What? Why?”
>”She has a... Signature method...”
>Mjolna leans over him some more, and you hear sound-distorted laughter.
>The hot cherry she had falls right into his alcohol soaked lap.
>His crotch lights up.  The flames spread along his thighs.
>The reaction is universal amongst the nearby ponies. They rear back in surprise as the officer tries to pat them out in a panic.
>Mjolna watches for a moment, letting him fall out of the chair.  She reaches for the drink tray, and starts fanning the flames.
>It only takes a couple seconds to kill them due to the flame retardant suit.  A few smoldering candle-light flares are the only things left on his inner thighs.
>The suit has turned black in the burnt areas, crackling slightly, the ablative layer utterly weakened.
>In a complete “act” of drunkeness, she continues to feign panic, and in one final, swift move, throws the heavy metal tray directly between his legs.
>The corner strikes him directly in the jewels, and enough strength is behind it to shatter the weakened protective codpiece, bounce the tray off of him, and send it spinning several feet up before clattering to the ground.
>There is a silence as the onlooking ponies watch.
>The officer doesn't respond at first.
>Then, he rolls to the side, front hooves cradling his junk, and proceeds to tremble on the ground with wide-open eyes.
>Mjolna puts her hooves to her face, showing off “genuine concern” for the local ponies.
>Mjolna: Mission accomplished, boss
--


>Mjolna turned out to be quite a shrewd interrogator, as well, in the face of recent events.
>She'd masked her entry as the concerned friend, having accidentally injured her friend.  The doctor had left for some higher quality painkillers, as she hadn't done any real damage- just to pride.
>That's when she'd started.
>Your troupe had left her alone with him in the examination room, and she'd peeled varying bits of information out of him already.
>Twilight and Shining had stayed behind to continue the recording.
>You and Rarity had departed to collect Mjolna, and hand off the armor packet inside the Conglomerate case it had hastily been stuffed into.
>And all the while along the way, you kept trying to get Rarity to talk to you.
>And all the while, simple, plain acknowledgements were all you receieved.
>goddamnit Rarity.
>The only thing you could hope for was a clearer name, at least, once this was all over with.
>As you entered the exam room, Mjolna had the officer on his hind legs, against the wall, a hoof hovering in front of his junk, and an unfamiliar hum buzzing.
>”I don't know!” He cried. “I just get the information relayed on assignments, that's all! It's standard procedure!”
>She just smiled. The hoof hovered closer to him, and dipped back when he continued to talk.
>”It's an exchange, all right? I don't know what it is, only that there are non-corporate VIP's for the trade off.”
>Rarity stood outside, running interference should anyp0ny approach. She was good at talking in circles.
>You held the conglomerate case, situating it at the corner of the bed.
>He eyed you as you entered, his eyes pleading for some kind of reprieve.
>”So who gave you the assignment, hm?” Mjolna asked.
>”It was a double-fee with hazard pay from one of the kiosks. They don't tell us anything other than what's required in the deal!”
>”Who. From.”
>”T-the DJ's at the bar... They're employees, so it's a courtesy job...”
>”Ah.” She pushed the hoof closer again. “So, you weren't curious enough to ask that little gray mare what exactly what was in the package?”
>”NO! No! That's a courtesy too! Don't ask, can't tell!”
>”So who are the VIP's?”
>”Butterfly's!” he said. The nickname did not go unnoticed.
>You look back at him, and Mjolna's smile instantly fades.
>”All I know is there's some kind of data they got off a pony here, they were offering it on the Deep Web Market. Butterfly Bio-Magic won the bid!”
>”Where is the trade?”
>”The club... Why else would I be there?”
>”How many?”
>”Standard detail, plus the buyer.”
>Twilight chimes in on the AR audio.  “That's all we need.  Ugh, it would've been so much more convenient had we known earlier...”
>Mjolna leans in to him. “PCI. Now.”
>He stammers off some kind of internet address at LunaCorp.
>She leans in and whispers something to him.
>”I'll call you later.”
>He looks to you, dumbfounded and scared in the same instant.
>Don't look at me, man. You're on your own with her.
>She taps her hoof to the side of his head and he falls unconscious almost instantly. The hum stops.
>She motions for you to leave.  She's got to change into the gear, after all.
>At this point, being the fifth wheel in all of this is starting to get you frustrated, but you accept.
>As you leave, Rarity is chatting up the returning doctor. She glances back, and offers some words that put him around the corner.
“It's Butterfly again?”
>Twilight responds through the AR. “Well according to him. For all intents and purposes this is a legal trade for secondhand info, we can't do anything directly.”
“Isn't it a threat to the company?”
>”Maybe, maybe not. We won't know until we actually get the data and analyze it.”
“You can't keep us covered somehow?”
>”Well I can, sure. But it's flimsy at best.”  She sighs. “I'm going to try and contact Fluttershy and Applejack again. Something about this is really, really off.”
>No shit.
>Mjolna exits the room, clad in that white-gold gear. She shakes a bit, like a dog, to make sure everything is situated properly. “What's the plan boss?”
>”Simple.” Shining Armor replaces Twilight's visage on the AR.  “Nab the trade-off box.  If we can prove it's attached to the DJ's we can head after them, too.”
>”Get back here, we've got to get started. If the officer was there already, the trade off wasn't far away.”
>You and Mjolna make a hasty exit, while Rarity continues whatever she's doing. You hope, especially given the current condition of the relationship, she isn't doing what you think she's doing.
>No. She wouldn't do that. She's a lady.
>”Scratch that. I've just arrived at the club, two of the Butterfly detail have replaced the guards outside.”
>The hotel room and infirmary were in two seperate directions. You wouldn't have the opportunity to meet up, and would have to approach from different sides.
>Son of a...
>”LunaCorp. Armed.  They're a group of the same guys as before.  Do NOT expose him, I don't want to risk seeing their reaction to him.”
>”Well fillies,” Mjolna interjects. “This is where the fun begins.”
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