Rebels in Equestria 4 - Redux

Rebels in Equestria 4 - REDUX

> A soft voice calls out to you, awakening you from your slumber.
> “Anonymous? Hey, Anonymous. Wake up. It’s time.”
> You groggily rub the sand out of your eyes as you come to.

> Sleep was scarce. You took every opportunity to get at it.
> You feel a gentle touch at your shoulder.
> It’s soft, gentle touch was unmistakably a woman’s.

> It was a woman ‘s.
> Her pale skin was covered with dirt and scars.
> And even in the dark of night, her teal eyes still shined with grace.
> She produces a thermos and offers you a small cup of coffee, while you happily accept.

> You allow the feeling of de-ja-vu to pass as you take in your sorroundings once more.
> [spoiler] Is this a dream? [/spoiler]

> Once again, you find yourself in the back of a moving van, quickly moving along a rainy highway.

> You glance around and spot the same familiar faces.
> Your rag tag freedom fighters aremed to the teeth.
> The arsenal ranged from everything to makeshift pipebombs to RPG’s.

> An AK variant sits across your lap, while a small caliber rifle is slung over your back.
> Both were either looted from the enemy.
> Satchels full of mechanic’s tools and plastic explosives hang from your body.

> Digging in one of your pockets, you find a pack of cigarettes.
>The small beaten box proudly reads “LUCKY STRIKE CIGARTTES” across the banner.
> It’s a small luxury in this time of war; but it was one you could afford to share.
> You pass the box around, and soon the van becomes flooded with cigarette smoke.
> You offer a smoke to the coffee girl, but she quietly declines.

> She seems distracted.
> Lost, even.
> You were about to ask her what was the matter, when suddenly the window between the van’s cabin and cargo bay slip open.
> The driver spoke with a booming voice.
> “Aight. I’m sure you boys know the drill by now, but humor me for a moment.”
> The driver steers the van off the freeway towards a nearby exit ramp.
> “We’re heading to the West Side of the city, and as you know, the Stovies haven’t yet established a steady supply route to this are yet. Until they do, the forces stationed here are relying on whatever they can loot. The resistance has reason to believe that the Stovies have been using the gas stations along 6th and Hope Ave to fuel a carpool of sorts.”
> You finish off the last of cigarette and flick it out the van.
> As you continue to listen to the driver, you ready your weapon.
“Your task is poke around the area. If the intel proves true, you’re tasked to destroy this carpool under any means nessecary. Alright?”

> The van slows to a crawl, and eventually stops.
> He parks the van at the edge of the city.
> Once he kills the engine, the sounds of a waging battle can be heard deep from inside the city.
> “This is as far as I’ll take you. You’ll have to book it from here.”
> Your party begins to disembark.
> “If all goes well, we’ll meet back here at dawn.”
> As soon as the last man disembarks, the driver starts the engine once more.
> “I expect to see all of you back here when I return. Just as I left ya. I don’t wanna nothing hear anything about any slip ups, ya hear? Stay safe.”

> The van drives away, and you quickly lose sight of it in the thick rain.
> You turn to face your fellow squad mates as you make your final preparations for the night.
> One of the fighters took point.
> It’s your buddy, Mac.

> “Alright boys, ready up. Radios on.”
> You follow orders, and flick the switch on your ear piece.
> As soon as you do, your ear becomes flooded with noise.
> Radio chatter.
> Men screaming.
> Explosions and gun fire.
> All in all garbled mess of noise.

> Mac pulls up his rifle and starts running to a nearby alleyway.
> “Tune to frequency 141.12”
> You oblige, tuning into the near silent channel.
> “This is our channel for tonight.”
> He spoke in a low whisper, but was echoed clearly by the headset in your ear.
> “Alright, stay low and watch those rooftops. First target’s just a few blocks away.”

> The group heads deeper west under the cover of night.
> The rain picks up, and you start to soak.
> Clutching your rifle, you tread lightly.

> As you head farther west, you head away from the noise of war.
> For the military front lines are the east side of town.

> You trail behind the pack.
> The heavy bag of tools weighs you down some.

> You radio comes to life with chatter.
> “Hey, hey. We’re at 4th and Hope. Approaching the point of interest now.”
> “Anyone got eyes?”
> “Yeah. I see the old gas station. But not much else.”
> “Shh. Shhh. Quiet! You hear that?
> “Sounds like an engine. Could it be the car pool HQ was talking about?”

> You catch up and find the rest of your squad perched by the alley corner.
> “Anonymous!” Mac barks.
“Yeah?”
> “We need eyes and ears.”
> Mac points to an apartment complex on the other side of the street.
> “Head to the roof. Well cover.”

> You do as told without much hesistation.
> Darting across the street under the cover of night fall.
> Once you reach the apartment complex, you find a fire escape and make your way up.
> The building is only four stories tall, so you make it up in no time.
> You position yourself on the near edge of the roof top, overlooking the streets below.

> From here you can see everything.
> The gas station looms about a hundred yards to your left.
> Mac and the rest of the squad remains hidden in an alley to your right.
> And in front of you, a large municipal parking lot is filled to the brim with military vehicles.
> The lot is completely fenced in by tall steel walls.
> There’s only one entrance to the lot.
> It’s guarded by two Estovakian officers.
> One smoking a cigar by the gate, and another nestled in an MG nest.

> “Anonymous! What’s the hold up?” your radio beams
“I’ve got eyes. Looks like the intel was spot on. There’s about a dozen in that lot in front of you.”
> “I can’t see anything from where I stand.”
“Yeah. It’s fenced in. There’s an entry way about 50 yards of you. Two guys.”
> “Alright. Moving out.”

> You watch as the small squad emerges from the shadows.
> They make a bee line towards the two unsuspecting officers below slowing to a halt.
“What’s the hold up? You’re good. You’re good! Keep going!”
> “Anon. It’s too dangerous to go any further. Take out the MG guy. Make it quiet.”
“Copy.”

> You shuffle your things to the far end of the rooftop, getting a clearer view of the man nestled behind the MG tower.
> You un-sling your small hunting rifle from your back.
> Its small .22 caliber rounds were sufficient. It was accurate, quiet and from this distance, would be enough to at least critically wound the gunner.
> Resting your rifle on the edge of the rooftop, you aim for the gunner, zeroing in your sight for this distance.

“Ok. I’ve got a shot, ready when you are.”
> In the corner of your eye, you see the squad slowly making its way for the gates.
> “Take the shot. Quickly.”

> You pull the trigger. Twice. A habit you’ve come to pick up.
> Two muffled ‘pops’ erupt from your rifle, and the soldier behind your sights erupts in a pink mist.
> Quickly afterwards, you hear a few more gun shots from the ground.

> “They’re down. We’re good.”
“Copy. You’re clear from there on in. It’s quiet on all ends.”
> “Excellent. Hey, listen. Can you see the gas station from there?”
“Yeah.”
> “Go scout ahead, maybe plant some charges. We’ll meet you there.”
“Copy.”

> You sling your hunting rifle and ready your AK.
> As you make your way down the fire escape, the rest of the squad moves into the car pool.
> They begin work on the vehicles.

“I’m on the streets. Making my way towards the gas station now.”
> “Copy.” Mac replies. The sounds of whirring power tools can be heard over his radio.

> You quickly shuffle between buildings until the target comes into view.
> It was an old gas station built decades ago.
> There were a few pumps that were completely overshadowed by huge gas tanks not too far from them.
> Tarvo City was industrial in nature.
> It housed one of the nation’s largest ports and industrial complexes.
> The gas housed here was to fuel the almost constant barrage of eighteen wheelers that carried goods through the city.

> You quietly make your way towards the station.

 “I’m arriving at the gas station.”
> “Acknowledged.”
> With your AK set to full auto, you trek into the gas station.
> The overhead awning shields you from the pouring rain.
> And although you’re grateful, you remain ever vigilant.
> You bob and weave through the pumps and abandoned cars, making your way to the fuel tanks.
> No hostiles.
> Quickly, you scan around the surrounding rooftops, searching for any silhouettes.
> But you find nothing.

> Lightning cracks overhead, followed closely by booming thunder.
> The rain doesn’t let up.

> You pull out a satchel and remove a bundle of plastic explosives.
> You crawl underneath one of the fuel lines leading from a gas tank and plant it.
> Traveling down the fuel line you plant about a half dozen charges.
> By the time you get to finishing the last one, you’ve completely soaked yourself with rain water.

> You finish the last charge at the base of the fuel tank.
“Alright. Charges have been plan-“

> Gunshots erupt.
> “We got hostiles!” Mac shouts over the radio
“Where?”
> “From your end of the street. They probably haven’t noticed you yet! Just get to cover, we’re on our way!”
> You pull yourself out and start to get up.
> But before you get to your feet, you feel a sharp pain across the back of your head.
> It knocks you out cold.

---

> A bright light burns into your eyes.
> Your first reaction is to shield yourself.
> But try as you might, it proves to be useless.
> Your arms and legs are bound together by a heavy telekinetic force. It tugs against you whenever you try to move.

> Your eyes quickly re-adjust to the light, painting a vivid picture around you.
> The ponies from before are still here.
> But this time, you find yourself along a dir path nestled along a rolling plain
> Dawn’s golden light is beginning to break over the horizon.
> The ponies from before are still here.
> You can only hear them whispering amongst each other in a strange language unlike anything you’ve heard before.

> Small pebbles and gravel  dig into your face and eyes.
> Your face is scratched and you lip is slightly bloodied.
> And although painful, it’s nothing compared to your pain threshold.
> These ponies have you hog tied to the ground.

> You gather whatever breath you can.
But your breathing is coarse and labored.
> With every breath, a dull pain erupts from the left side of your chest.
> It feels as if you’ve bruised a rib, perhaps you’ve even broken it.

“H-Hey.” You whisper.
> You voice is dry and weak, it doesn’t carry very far.

> You watch as the purple unicorn paces back and forth frantically.
> She looks over to you in shock when she realizes you’ve come to.
> They pause their conversation to approach you.
> As the purple unicorn approaches, a purple aura sorrounds your body, tightening your binds.
> The purple unicorn comes face to face with you.
“Let me go.” You croak.
> She tilts her head in confusion.

> The orange pony comes forward and starts poking you in the chest.
> She carries a look of pride on her face.

“Untie me!” you shout.
> The orange pony stammers about, startled.
> You try against your telekinetic bindings, but the more you resist the tighter they become.

> The purple one addresses the rest of the ponies.
> They collect their things before walking down the forest path.
> With her telekinesis, she drags you along.
> You shout in protest, but they don’t seem to bat you an eye.
> You cuss them out.
> Saying terrible things to them.
> But they ignore you all the same.

> Who are they?
> What are they?
>What do they want?
> Who do they work for?

> A cold shiver runs down your spine, leaving the hairs on the back of your neck on edge.
> Brutal memories of the war flash into your mind.
> You recall coming across the corpses of POW’s during your travels.

> Military, militia and even civilians were all given the same treatment.
> You came across corpses so mutilated and disfigured, they were barely even human.
> The words of your former squad leader, Mac, echo through your mind.
> “You’ve seen what they’ve done to our comrades; our fellow brothers and sisters. To them, you are nothing. They will break you. And they’ll do anything to get even the smallest amount of information to you. They have no mercy, no remorse and no limit. Under no circumstances are you to be taken alive. Do I make myself clear?”

> Suicide.
> You let out a heavy sigh at the thought.
> Glancing around, you find all your equipment has been stripped from you.
> The white pony is carrying with her levitation.
> You let out a heavy sigh of defeat.

> You let up on your struggle and allow yourself to be dragged along the path.
> In the daylight, you take a moment to study your captors.
> Small pastel colored ponies.
> Each one of them with a unique color palette and hair style.
> And by the looks of it, each one with a different personality.

> The entire walk, you’ve been stared down by the orange pony.
> Her eyes stabbing daggers into you.
> She seems uneasy, untrusting or even hostile.

> While on the other hand, the yellow one seems timid.
> She flies close to you and occasionally tries to speak to you.
> But you pay her no attention and stare down the road.
> She’s easily frightened.
> All you had to do was give her a dead pan stare, and she’s cower away from you.

> The ordeal was short lived.
> Before you knew it, your party had arrived to their destination.
> A small town nestled between rolling hills.
> Houses small and tall were neatly aligned dirt roads.
> They were constructed using simple materials.
> Wood, earth, masonry and glass.
> It was simple and inviting.
> A stark contrast to your steel and concrete home.

> It was so peaceful and verdant, it looked like a good vacation getaway.
> The change of scenery was almost so sudden you could hardly believe it.

> Your mind wanders.
> Where are the others.
> Mac and the rest of your squad.
> What of the resistance movement back home?
> What of them?

> Your training pops into mind.
> The resistance never issued Cyanide pills.
> Instead, they advised one to bite their own tongue off.
> With any luck, one would sever one of the major arteries and bleed to death before being put into one of the Stovie's interrogation chambers.
> You pass off the thought and continue onwards.

> The rows of houses eventually gave way to an enormous tree nestled in the middle of town.
> It was breath taking.

> Thick roots planted into the ground, giving the tree ample support.
> A small door and pair of windows were carved into the tree itself.
> More balconies and windows were perched on various branches throughout the tree.

> You silently marveled at its grace before being ushered inside by the ponies.

> The interior of the tree was almost as breath taking as its exterior.
> You swear that the inside was even larger than the outside.
> Dozens upon dozens of shelves lined the walls. Each one of them packed to the brim with books and scrolls.
> Was this a library?
> It had to be.

> The ponies usher you inside.
> They place you onto a couch obviously too small for you.
> Your gear is still being carried by the white pony, who only watches you cautiously.
> They back away slowly,

> You feel the eyes of the ponies rest on you.
> They eyes staring daggers into you.

> Watching.
> Studying.
> Examining.

> The purple unicorn trots up to you.
> She speaks a few words to you.
> She carries a curious tone in her voice and waits expectantly when she finishes.
> You offer silence.

> The yellow pegasus returns from the other room, presumably the kitchen.
> She carries a tray full of food and drinks.
> Fresh fruit and vegetable served up on silver china.
> As she hands out food and drinks to the other ponies, you watch in envy.

> Food has been scarce.
> It always has been.
> Your stomach growls at the sight.

> The yellow pegasus notices.
> Grabbing an apple from the plate she slowly hovers over to you.
> She land on the couch before saying a few words to you.
> You remain silent.

> She holds the apple to you.
> A large smile fills her face.
> You feel the telekinetic bindings begin to release from your body.

> Your arms are freed.
> In the corner of your eyes, you could see the orange and cyan ponies preparing a rope.
> The purple pony also stares at you cautiously.
> No chance of pulling an escape here.

> You stare once more into the yellow pony's eyes.
> Eyes of innocence.
> Grace.
> And kindness.
> Traits no Stovie could ever carry.
> And going through hell and back, any kind gesture is one you'd take to heart

> Reaching out, you grab the apple from the yellow pony's hoof.

> It's been a while since you've eaten fruit.
> Fresh foods had become a luxury during the various wartime embargo's.
> It could have been months.
> Honestly, you've lost count of the days.

> You look to the yellow pony.

> You could sense her anxiety.
> It was a mutual feeling.
> But you try to cast it aside.
> You place your hand on her head and pet her a few times.
> She is wary of your touch, cowering slightly as your cold fingers make contact.
> Once she realizes you mean no harm, she gives caution to the wind.

> You raise your hand and point it towards yourself.
“Anonymous.”
> You repeat the gesture a few times before she seems to catch on.
> The purple pony raises her hoof and presses it against her chest.
“Twiiiiliiiight.”
> She smiles.

> You bite into the red apple.
> The sweet flavor enriches you taste buds.

“Thanks.”