Broken Valor (Part I) ~ Half Life

Six years ago, Carmine lived a very different life from the stagnant half life that he's grown accustomed to in the present day. The day after Carmine turned eighteen he ran away from his sleepy farming village of Haybale and took the first train to Canterlot in order to join the Royal Guard. His recruitment wasn't born through overwhelming obligation to serve beneath the Princess and protect his beloved home, but for the simple promise of a couple thrills. Life on the farm was a drag. When the sun rose, it was time for chores. More chores awaited him once the sun had made it high in the sky. Only in the dead of night was Carmine free to himself, and that's only if he was conscious enough after a long, backbreaking day. Posters of comic book heroes lined the walls of his shared room. He wanted to be them. He wanted a life of romance and adventures, like the heroes in the pages of his books. "This is okay," He'd tell himself every night before going to sleep. "I'll help out until I decide what I want." Each time he said his nighttime chant, he felt better about himself, and about his family. Mom and Dad had other ideas. Shortly before his eighteenth birthday, they revealed that they wanted him to have full control over the farm upon their retirement. That same day, he decided that he would run away to Canterlot. The guard would house him, feed him, pay him... it sounded like a sweet deal. For someone like him, it was the closest to that life of thrills that he so desperately wanted. Since his recruitment, he's made a decent name for himself. He joined as the laughing stock, taking the title of "Cowboy" from the inner city recruits, but after years of hard work and the later reveal of his talent for investigating, he was selected to join a special task force whose goal was to investigate a group responsible for multiple kidnappings. It was a small team, made up of five others, including Carmine. There was General Currant, a high ranking officer in Celestia's army and Carmine's uncle, Lamia Sod, a thestral who became close with Carmine, a special investigator from the Crystal Empire and a stallion that stole Carmine's heart throughout their service together, Glorious Valor. At first, they hated each other. While Carmine was brash and arrogant, Valor was the spitting image of a knight, totally by the books and a bit of a square. They each had their own way, and they'd be damned if someone was going to try and squirm around it. The fact that they eventually became an item was a surprise to nearly everyone, up until they remembered the age old saying "Opposites attract." The time was now 11:23. Carmine was instructed to report to a meeting close to a half hour ago. The purpose remained unknown to him, but the urgency in the General's voice suggested that it was important. Currant and the investigator had been talking behind a closed door on the opposite side of the room. About what, Carmine didn't know, as the few words he could clearly hear from the other room was completely lost to him without context. The clock's constant ticking was starting to pick at the already agitated guard. In his seemingly decade-long wait, he decided to dig into his armor’s pocket and pull out something he had been dreading to read since he received it in the mail a few mornings ago. "Carmine, It's been a year and you still won't listen or read to what we have to say. At this point, I've decided I'm going to keep writing to you until you either write back, see me, or I kick the bucket. Should the latter happen, your brothers and sisters will write you all at once, so I better hear something from you soon unless you want your poor mailbox to be flooded! We're so sorry about what happened on your birthday. We just want what's best for you. You walked out on us, said we tried to 'force' you into living at the farm. You didn't even give us a chance to explain... You never told us that you were unhappy, so to have you just up and join the Guard on a whim, and bringing home a stallion— well, it caught us off guard! I hope you'll forgive our anger, we weren't sure know how to react. Your father's torn himself up over what he said... and I have too. We want to try again. Glorious Valor is free to come as well, just be aware that it'll take some adjustment for us. We just want to see you again. Please don't let 'piss off' be the last thing you tell your family. Love, Your Dear (and aging!) Mom." "Another letter from the hicks? Is it from your sister or your girlfriend? Ah, who am I kidding, they're the same thing," A soothing voice chimed in from a crack in the office's door. The intruder was a thestral, strands of her curly lilac mane poked from beneath her helmet. Her coat was like charcoal, which blended in well with the darker parts of her armor. "Sod," Carmine playfully snarled. "Since we're doing stereotypes, don't you have some rabies to spread?" She laughed and simply sat down on the bench beside him. Whatever was going on seemed to be nothing more than playful jabbing. "Are they still asking for you?" The thestral pondered while using her pointy fangs to tear apart an apple. "Yeah, mom's slowing down though. Now it's only twice a month versus twice a week," Carmine replied while gently folding the letter in his bag. A sigh escaped his clean shaven muzzle. Anxiety was starting to set in. Negative thoughts clouded his mind like maggots squirming around in his brain. Something happened. He tried to get the worst case scenario off of his mind, but nothing seemed to work. That last sentence of his mother's letter... "Don't let 'piss off' be the last thing you tell your family". Of course, that sentence alone sparked some negative feelings, he replayed that chaotic night many times when he was lying in bed. If he were to die today, that would be the last thing he told them. Those thoughts trailed into his worries with Glorious Valor. "I love you. I'll keep the couch warm for you when you get back," would be their last exchange... hardly a poor one, but he wanted something more. Thinking about it seemed to force the topic out of him, though not in the way he intended. "Hey, you ever think about the last thing you tell someone?" The bat deadpanned at Carmine with her slit, salmon colored eyes. "Really? That's one of the first things you ask me? You know what I'd kill to hear? 'How's it going, Lamia? Did you get that weird mole checked out yet?’ It’s benign, by the way.” Carmine’s replied with his hooves defensively put up. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I'm just worried about Val. It's been two months since we've last seen each other, and our only means of communication is through intel. I know he tries to send me little signals and stuff to show that he's still there and that he cares, but I can't help but worry. I know he volunteered, but some part of me wishes I beat him to it." For as long as she's known him, Carmine's been a stallion that never frets or loses his smile, but whenever the topic turned to Val's mission, it always seemed to go south. She forced a smile and gave him a few pats right on the leg. Touchy-feely wasn't really her thing, but she knew that it brought some comfort to Carmine. "You know the reason he volunteered is because he knew you were going to, right? He didn't want you put in danger. Plus, there's nothing to worry about. He was chosen to join the op for the same reason as us- We're a cut of a different cloth. Val's the top fighter and most tactical guy at our table, my infiltration skills have yet to be matched, and no one's as scarily perceptive as you are. Honestly, that freaks me out. But the kidnappers should be lucky that we're both on standby, right? Leave you to analyze the clues, me to break into places when... well, when the time strikes. With your uncle in charge and that special agent guy, we make for a pretty kickass squad." Her words did manage to bring a little smile to the guard's face. Lamia was right. All of them were special in their own way, and that made them a force to be reckoned with, should they stick together. With one of their best out in the field, while the others are left waiting on a lead... Carmine was still worried that what they were currently doing wasn't the best use of their time, but it couldn't be helped. He needed a distraction. The bat's apparent fear of his "gift", as he's called it, was something that made him laugh... but he had another thing on his mind. "Yeah, I do have a super-hero of a boyfriend, don't I? Though, if what I've kinda put together is right, then he might not be my boyfriend for much longer." Lamia almost choked on her apple, hacking until a piece of peeling launched itself out of her throat and fell into her hooves. She tried to keep things casual after wiping her apple stained muzzle and asked, "Oh, you're breaking up?" "Wh-- No, you idiot. I'm thinkin' he might propose," Carmine answered with a huff. The bat stood frozen in place. Carmine couldn't but notice the faintest look of fear in her glowing, slit eyes. "No way! I know you miss him, but you have to just be imagining things. It's only been--" Carmine interjected, absolutely no one would be able to talk over him when he starts unraveling. Lamia knew this better than anyone and slouched over in defeat. "It's been about three years, Sod. Besides, it ain't just that. There's some small things I noticed before he went undercover. We talked about celebrating when he got home. I suggested something small- a dinner or something. Normally, he'd have fought the idea until I conceded, and chosen to go all out instead, but he was very quick to say okay." Lamia began to squirm. Something was bothering her, though she desperately tried to hide it. The first excuse off the top of her head would have to do. "Val's just considerate--" But Carmine still continued. "Speaking of which, he's been a big penny pincher lately. Won't hardly pay for anything when we're out. Buys cheap groceries. I don't normally mind, actually, but you know how long how he's been doing this? For about three months. What's the one thing you normally save three month's salary for? A ring. And for my final piece of evidence: he told you, didn't he?" The thestral reacted as if she had just gotten shocked. A shrill "Eep!" escaped her as she stiffened in her seat. She said nothing for a few seconds... this is where desperation kicks in. "Now you're just losing it, dude. Why would he tell me? He hasn't said a word to me." "You're lying~" Carmine chimed, nudging her ribs with his elbow. "No, I'm not!" Gumshoe laughed. As bad as he felt for grilling her, this was always his favorite part. It didn't matter who it was, whenever all evidence had turned against them, they had only one final defense: deny, deny, deny. "Sorry, but you got two tells: one, you always call me 'dude' when you're hiding something. You're tryin' to be casual, but you end up overcompensating. Makes it feel unnatural." The bat only looked away in response, but Carmine could tell that her chest had started to tighten. Breathing was getting even faster... He could relent, but chose not too. "Do you wanna know what the second thing is, Sod?" Lamia turned her head to briefly look at him. "What?" she spat behind gritted fangs. "You blink a lot when you're lying," the young guard grinned. "No, I don't!" She replied with a hiss. Now she made a show of keeping her eyes open for a bit longer, hoping to balance out the fluttering of her eyes that was accidentally bestowed upon her. "No, you don't," Carmine proudly declared. A small, breathy laugh flowed in to his continuation, "That was a lie, too. Buuuut, you bein' scared proved it all to me. You know." Lamia's mood had completely dropped from the cocky, slightly mischievous gal from moments ago. Her friend's habits had a way of getting under her skin, especially when she already asked him to stop. The guilt of accidentally letting Valor's secret go, as well as the anger she felt toward Carmine, she could only sit there and stew in her conflicted feelings. "Just don't tell Valor, okay? It means a lot to him that no one knows! I just stumbled upon the receipt in the locker room and brought it to him..." Her sudden compliance elicited another, gutsier laugh from Carmine. Not only was he giddy from finally hearing some confirmation of Valor's proposal, but he felt Lamia was always an entertainer by heart. No matter what she did, she always reacted in a way that was amusing to Carmine. Truth be told, there was some guilt that came from picking on her, which he'd hope to resolve with a quick apology. "I'm sorry. I won't say anything, promise. I just wanted to mess with you for a hot minute while we wait." At least she wasn't conflicted anymore. Anger was definitely the way to go. The bat responded with a hard punch to the earth stallion's shoulder. "Jackass! We could've just had a normal conversation, but you just wanted to feed your ego! I bet you just got finished reading a psychology book or somethin' huh? Honestly, you're the worst sometimes." Carmine instantly grabbed his shoulder and seethed. The armor on her hooves only made the impact that much worse. Something needed to humble him. "Damn, you hit hard. I'm sorry! Let's... Let's talk about something else then, okay?" "Fine." Despite the agreement to change the topic, the two remained silent and turned away. The Bystander Effect was taking place, albeit in a different form. Both expected the other to find something to talk about, despite the little bit of heat that remained in the room from Carmine's third degree. This lead Carmine to think about a great many things, a continuation of the negative thoughts from before. What did the general want? Was Valor okay? This, and so much more, would dwell at the front of his mind until the briefing room door swung open and a booming voice would shout from the inside. "Gumshoe! Sod! Report!" Soon, all of Carmine's questions would be answered. The two scuttled into the briefing room, where they were greeted by two stallions. The first was Special Agent Argon, a slender, crystal stallion wearing a black suit, a shortly cut silver mane with his skin shining lavender. His left eye is obscured by a dark eyepatch, but the intense indigo glow from his left is undeniable. Argon was an incredibly intimidating man. The other is the General, Carmine's uncle, a much taller, bulkier pegasus stallion. His age is shown in the shallow wrinkles on his darkened coat and around his amber eyes, a trait shared by the males of the family. His helmet was off and rested underneath his wing, allowing his buzzed red mane to breathe. After assuming their positions in the two-pony lineup, both of them greeted their superiors with a proper salute. Currant's elegant southern drawl managed to shine through his carefully delivered words. "Good news, team. We have confirmation that Glorious Valor is alright. The bad news, he believes that his position has been compromised, and if it hasn't, it will be soon. Therefore, Special Agent Argon and I have authorized an emergency rescue mission. You two will be our infiltration team." Carmine perked up. Infiltration? He was practically a glorified desk jockey since his promotion from a rookie guard. His duties involved left to analyzing evidence that Valor had scrounged up during his time undercover. It felt nice, like they were still working together despite being so far apart. Infiltration was... well, a whole can of worms he thought he sealed up long ago. Still, this was for Valor. Denying wasn't an option. "Okay. It's been a while, but... Yeah. Yeah, I can do it." "Excellent," the general replied, now baring a grin. "Special Agent Argon has recently returned with the information that Corporal Valor managed to sneak out. As you know, he has been undercover for quite some time now. We now not only have a name behind the kidnappings, but a small shred of a motive. Special Agent Argon, enlighten the team." Argon steps up to the dimly lit square table sitting in the middle of the room. Documents and papers are sprawled out in a messy manner. A few of the papers are scooped up in an indigo glow and held out for the duo to review. "Yes, sir. Well, we know a couple things about this group. For one, we know where they're stationed: an abandoned paper factory in Fillydelphia. Our presumptions of their numbers were a bit off the money, however. They are not a large force as we first believed, but rather a small group of roughly a dozen members. They're well funded, too, backed by a wealthy employer, which was accurate to our suspicions." "Do we know who the employer is?" Lamia asked, glossing her slit eyes over the documents. The General interjected. "No, we do not. Not yet. The employer is incredibly careful. All interactions between them and the group are strictly through an 'ambassador' with the alias Rumpelstiltskin. Revealing his identity has proven to be a bit of a problem. The I.I. doesn't even know who he is, his name, or what he looks like. Most interactions with them are through paper or a disguise." "I'm sorry for interrupting, sir. But...” Carmine started, "The I.I.?" "Yes. That is what the group refers to themselves as: the Iron Ijiraq. They used to be a small time gang known as the Broke Shields, but we believe they changed it shortly after being hired. For what reason? We have no idea. The Ijiraq refers to a a deer-like creature who kidnaps children, in certain mythologies," Argon answered while flipping through the pages of a manila envelope. "A bit on the nose, if you ask me, but perhaps it's a way of taunting us." Carmine felt his heart snap in two. Among the many files on the table, he recognized a photo. A picture of a filly crossing the street, no older than nine, with a messily tied bandana around her head, and a dirty, off-white coat. Carmine remembered her case vividly. Homeless, no family, just a kid on the streets. Kidnapped about a year ago, and missing ever since. By now, he's assumed the worst. "Another thing I should mention," General Currant stepped in again. While Carmine was an expert in body language, Currant was a scholar when it came to his nephew. Losing that kid was a personal hit for him, as it would anyone. His sentence seemed to get Carmine to focus his attention. "Glorious Valor will not be the only target today. The green haired filly has been spotted safe and sound." As Currant expected, Carmine perked up. She's alive!? He felt a rejuvenating wind flow through his body as the waves of joy overtook him. Thank Celestia. "What happened to her-- Where's she been?" Current put his hoof up. "We don't know. As of now we just know that she's alive and that Valor's been keeping a close eye on her. We still don't know her name, no family has claimed any knowledge of her, and she shares nothing in common with any other missing kid in the database. As of now, we're still assuming that she's homeless and was simply picked off the street.” Picking on the weak and the helpless. Carmine couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger in his chest, though it did bring him some joy that the filly was okay. Lamia spoke up, her eyes and ears were more focused on the mission. "To what end?" The bat would ask, tilting her head. Argon answered, "It appears that they're being sold... or traded. They have a system, where they render the victim unconscious and bring them to a specified location. When they arrive, they find a suitcase of money and a note of praise and instructions to the next drop-off point," The papers neatly fell to the table, and were brought to an even stack by way of his aura. Currant stepped to the table now, to look his squad in the eyes. "Normally, we would wait until we were able to ambush them at the drop-off, but with Valor’s safety on the line and the filly seemingly returning from Celestia knows where, we may have enough evidence toward someone to get this task force rolling. We will have other chances to study the I.I., but we will NEVER have another chance like this further up the road. It's now or never." "I see why we need a team of two now," Carmine nodded. "Less time to prep and fewer folks make it easier to sneak around. What's the plan?" Currant slid a blueprint of the factory over It was uniquely built, with the ground floor being a large bridge that lead to a staircase down to the other two floors, where the paper-making facilities and administrative offices would be placed. "Thankfully, the odds seem to be in our favor. The entry point and escape route are the same thing: an air duct that starts at the roof and ends just a hallway away from where Valor and the the child are expected to be, on the second floor. You are to sneak in and make your way to the room on the far left from your entry point, grab Valor and the child, and retreat immediately back to the air duct. Once there, Lamia and Valor will airlift our more grounded friends, and you all will carefully meet us in the woods behind the factory with a small team of guards. Signal for us should things go south... but remember: stealth is key. Bring everyone back quietly and everything should go according to plan. They'll tighten up security, maybe change the formality once they realize what's been done, but we will get another opportunity. Does everyone understand the orders?" The two guards stiffened into a salute at the General's words. "Yes, sir!" Currant let a little puff of air out of his nose that paired with his smile. He never showed it, but he's spent many sleepless nights worrying about Glorious Valor. Not only is he a great soldier, but he was the one pony on the planet that managed to hit all the right marks with his nephew. After seeing the sincerity on his subordinates' faces, he had nothing but great feelings about the road ahead. "Good! Prepare to head out. Let's bring Glorious Valor home safe." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ [MACHE'S PAPER FACTORY, FILLYDELPHIA. 3:02 AM] The night was miserable. Not only was it late, but the bite of winter chilled the steel against their hooves, which made the patrol that much more dreadful. "I freakin' hate patrol..." one sighed. He was a younger earth pony of cinnamon coloration who kept his brown mane up in a nicely tucked beanie at the back of his head, but he let that little streak of orange flow out from the cap and over his right eye. The stallion next to him didn't seem too happy to hear his complaints. He was slightly older, more toned and wore a scraggly salt and pepper beard to go with his darkened blue coat. "Quit complaining, Sketchy. We're expecting something tonight... stay frosty." The younger one scoffed, "Stay frosty!? Hell yeah, I'm staying frosty-- 'cause it's thirty degrees out, I'm walkin' on cold, hard metal and the Boss burned my jacket! Tch... jerk..." A gruff sigh escaped the bigger stallion. "He took it because it was contaminated. We needed to be more careful with her." The cinnamon pony retorted with a sputter. "All I did was carry the girl up. Her ankle looked bad, okay? Figured it was the least we could do after... after whatever happened to her. All that weird goo, man. She looked real hurt... What kinda of screwed up stunts is Ol' Rumpy pullin', anyway?" "Don't think about it. We need the money and Rumpelstiltskin is paying," the salt and pepper pony replied, paired with a grunt. "C'mon, Stone, I know you're just as curious as I am." The pony, now identified as Stone, was silent... that silence soon turned into a gruff sigh as he lowered his head. "I... admit that it is bothersome. But nothing good will come from dissecting every little thing that happens. I don't care what happens to the girl, to whoever else Rumpelstiltskin wants us to grab, I just want to get paid. Now shut up or find something else to talk about." "Sure, sure. Can we talk about how we're the only patrol on this side of the building? Ain't that weird? If anything happens, ain't no one gonna hear it! They could come through a window with a damn cannon and all the other guys focused on the west half would just be scratchin' their heads!" Sketchy's rant was cut off by his own loud yawn. Stone piped up, “There's only one way in through here, and the next patrol will be making their rounds here in just ten minutes. The west side's a structural nightmare. Lotta holes and windows anyone could just slip in through." Sketch barely answered, only responding with a “Yeah, yeah” after coming down from his yawn. Where were they now? Down the hall... again. This whole building just felt like a bunch of hallways... it all seemed to be the same, it didn't matter where they went. "I just wanna go back to sleep..." As if on cue, a loud noise from above stopped the two dead in their tracks. The sound came from above, like something heavy hitting a thin metal, but it was hard to distinguish. That noise became louder and louder, until finally, a red blur crashed from the vent cover, landing directly on top of the smaller stallion. His partner stood at attention, ready to pounce, only to be met by another, sleeker figure flying from the vent with her leathery wings spread out. He didn't get to see her for long, as she would bring a hefty kick to his skull. Out like a light. "Got your wish," Carmine said to Sketch, who was now knocked out onto the cold, hard metal. "Good work," the bat cooed. "Let's just hope that Val's intel was right on the money." Now that they were inside, they needed to map out the area in their heads... they arrived through the vents that they were instructed to, which meant Valor was just down the hall. Seeing as they immobilized the patrol, their goal was practically in sight. Both of them knew this, but only one was smiling about it. Lamia seemed to be excited, while Carmine's inner turmoil was beginning to show. "Cheer up, Gumshoe," Lamia teased with a reassuring smile on her face. "What's it been-- two months? I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on once we make it out." The guard nodded. The image of catching up did elicit a small smile from him, but it was short lived. A pit was firmly planted in the deepest part of his stomach; something that seemed to be screaming a warning. Perhaps it was pre-rescue jitters from seeing the love of his life finally be safe at sound... though it was more likely the seeds of doubt that arose from the age old phrase 'This was too easy.' Only one patrol, and the entry point was just a pleasant walk from their goal? Something didn't feel right. Still, they had a job to do. They both began the careful walk. A door on the left... that's what would reunite the two. Forever. Carmine hoped As they approached, the red stallion felt that pit grow into a large lump that spread through his chest like a deadly disease. “You know, it's kinda funny. I've been so afraid all this time, even though he's the one who's been in the most danger. He wakes up every morning, day after day, pretending to be someone he's not... yet I keep wakin' up as the same guy and I hate it. The only thing that's been gnawing at my mind was 'What happens if he doesn't come back?' And each time, I struggle trying to think about how the hell I was gonna live without him." "Dude..." The bat frowned with saddened eyes. Two displays of vulnerability in one night? He's never been one to express such feelings to... well, anyone until recently. In all their years, from basic training to now, Carmine's always joked his way through the worst of it. Seeing him in such a state did twinge at Lamia's heartstrings, and the curiosity to inquire further did burn a home in her throat, but she needed to remain focused on the task at hand. "I... don't think you'll have to worry about that much longer." They were there now. The door on the left, the rendevouz point, it was the only thing between Carmine and Valor. After taking a deep breath, he put his hoof to the door and carefully pushed it open... what he saw was much different than what he imagined. Valor was there, as was the child that they were sent to rescue., but both were hogtied by a tightly bound rope that dug into their legs, and a tied cloth kept their screams silent. As soon as Valor looked up from the ground and noticed who stepped through that door, his eyes bugged out. He flung his body around, and his head swung about in an attempt to get the cloth off. It only took seconds, but it felt like hours, until finally... "CARMINE, NO! IT'S A SET UP!" Shortly after hearing those words, everything turned black.