Chapter Seven – The Escape
Braeburn's residence turned out to be an amiable place, though that didn't matter too much to the soldier, she had no intention of sticking around soon. So instead, she just decided to sit and eventually lay down for a bit, claiming a need for the rest that the doctor has prescribed for her before. It gave her a chance to observe where everyone was, seeing some of the family dynamic, and ultimately helping the changeling to mark her most appropriate prey. By the time night was officially rolling around, it was clear that the main unit that consisted of Cinnamon Cider, Water Chestnut, and Cameo, would be inadvisable to try to go for, since they would all be in one room while they slept, which increased the likelihood of being spotted while the soldier fed. It was a shame because the love held between Cinnamon and Chestnut was so sweet, so tantalizing – it would certainly last the soldier for a while if she fed upon that. However, the risk was just too high. She might have been in a hurry, but that didn't mean she should do something stupid. So, that left Braeburn.
Eventually, the core family went to bed, the soldier keeping an ear open to make sure they were asleep before she decided to finally go after her target. Opening and closing the door to his bedroom with equal amounts of extreme discretion, she slunk up to where the stallion was resting on his bed. The moon illuminated his nightstand, showing where he'd set his hat. His vest had been haphazardly tossed onto a chest at the foot of the bed – clearly viewable to the changeling's eyes. That wasn't the only thing though. As she quietly walked about, the soldier glanced at a dresser, seeing photographs. A few were of Braeburn, usually with other ponies. One in particular that stood was one of him looking a little younger, right on the verge of adulthood, standing by two other, older ponies with a filly at their hooves. The environment, curiously, was not like the surroundings of Apploosa, but of a metropolitan city. Looking at some of the other pictures, the soldier noticed that there was another picture which showed those three unknown ponies by themselves, the filly looking just a bit older. There were other ponies in other pictures a well, including one which was a chilling reminder of what the soldier needed to flee. A mare wearing a hat matching the style of the area, with her hair tied at the end, and a mark consisting of three apples on her flank. One of the Harmony ponies. The soldier looked from that picture to Braeburn. When she thought about it, the resemblance was close. She wondered what connection they had precisely for a moment before deciding that it was a waste of her time to think on such things for long. She couldn't afford to wonder, to think. She needed to feed and get out of here. Anything else was a distraction.
Stepping forward, looking over the stallion she had come for, an unfortunate creak sounded as she started to lean forward. Her horn, which she had started to extend, retreated quickly back into her head as she noticed Braeburn's eyes quickly fluttering open. The soldiers heart pounded as she wondered if she had been found out, if he had seen it...
“... Dusty?” he mumbled sleepily, looking up at her.
The soldier was truly uncertain of what to say or do, and remained frozen as she attempted to rethink what to do.
“Are you alright? Something wrong?” he said as rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, becoming a little more alert.
“I could not sleep,” she immediately responded. It seemed reasonable in the moment, but then she realized her blunder, how that didn't really explain her being here, and she then spoke off in rapid succession “I am sorry for waking you. I'm not sure why I did so. I believe the lack of sleep has negatively effected me. I should go.”
“It's alright, nothing to fuss about, I don't mind. I'm just glad it's not Cameo making another great escape,” Braeburn said with a haggard laugh that was part amusement, part relief.
The amiable response was not what the soldier expected for sure. She had felt so tense that she thought for sure this could not end well. Yet here the stallion was, no anger or suspicion of her.
“C'mon, have a seat, there must be something on your mind, right?” he said, patting a hoof on the bed.
It was genuine, a genuine offer, a genuine sense of concern. And feeling that directed at her, the soldier could feel a little bit of a tingle within her. A little bit of that sustenance like with Cameo. Not a lot compared to a feeding, but it was there. After a brief moment of wondering whether it was a good idea or not, the soldier decided to accept the offer, sitting by Braeburn's side.
“I've been thinking,” she stated.
A generic statement, but a true one.
“What about?” Braeburn asked.
The uncomfortable part. She obviously could not afford to tell the truth, but the alternative was not so attractive either. Ponies seemed to have an uncanny knack for being able to tell the truth at times.
“About whether I should stay here,” the soldier admitted.
“Well that's... gosh. Well I guess I can see how that would have the sort of thing in mind to keep some pony awake. Yer seriously considering leaving?”
There was a tinge of negativity in the concern now. What was the word... resentment? The soldier eyed Braeburn warily.
“I am considering it, yes,” she confirmed.
That negativity flared up in Braeburn, not just internally, but externally. His face contorted into a slight warp of disgust. At the same time though, there was something else.
“Y-you're serious?” Braeburn asked, rather needless the soldier thought. She had already answered the question after all, “Look, I get you ain't exactly had the best time around here so far, but do you think you could at least stick around long enough to help us out with our Scornful problem? I mean, it's not like you got to go anywhere else, right?”
East, or really anywhere else but here. Not that Braeburn needed to know that. This conversation shouldn't even be happening. Why did she have to screw up on that one squeaky board? Why couldn't she have just gone in and tried to force feed from Braeburn? This was probably the one time she could have afforded to be reckless, at least that's how it had been feeling in hindsight. She could maybe try that now, but with the feelings filling Braeburn now... all she had done was poison her own meal with her attempt to put on enough honesty to pass by.
“So what's the deal then? Do you not want to be beholden to us?” Braeburn asked, “Look, I know trying to get in a fight ain't always the best thing, but we could really use all the help we can get. Do you just not want to fight? Is that it?”
Not fight? No... it was the opposite. The soldier was in her element in a fight. Nothing would help her feel more whole than to fight under the orders of the hive again. Fighting against other ponies for ponies could probably even be a decent substitute for that, but this situation just didn't allow for that sort of room. She had to leave, stay out of the way of the watchful eye of the coming vanguards of the alicorn princesses.
“Well? Can you tell me?” Braeburn continued on, desperation in his voice, and his heart, “Please, give me something to work with.”
The soldier watched as Braeburn came closer on the bed. She didn't budge, but she watched him like a hawk. She wondered if maybe it would be worth pulling out what little she could and running. She'd be getting at least a little something, even if it wasn't what she had been hoping for.
“I don't belong here,” she stated.
Truth, without revealing too much. Probably all she could do. The emotions swirled about in Braeburn as he tried to come up with a proper response to such words.
“Well that's, that's just – you can belong here if you try, if you want to Dusty. Trust me you've already scored plenty o' points by rescuing Cameo and giving Scornful a kick in the flank. There's gotta be more to than that, right?”
Getting as close as he was, the soldier was starting to find it difficult to continue looking the stallion in the eye. It was hard, with those big, open eyes. It as though he could see through her, as though that eye contact were what was helping him so uncannily figure out that something was amiss. And the thing was, in the end, despite the tingling sensation this attempt to reach out was having, it was for naught as far as the changeling was concerned. Right now she was more concerned with leaving. At the moment she started to wonder if maybe it was possible to return him back to a more amiable, nutritious state, but that was going to take more effort and time, and it seemed like the only thing that would help was if she said she would stay, except there was the issue of the honesty. Why couldn't these ponies be more gullible? Just a little more, and that would be well enough for her. It would have made this whole process all the easier for her. Then again, the soldier supposed that was all the more reason why the infiltrator role required as much specialty as it did.
“Dusty, if we're that unbearable, you can say so, just... please, stick around long enough to help us. I know we're all ready to compensate ya for the help. If you want to go somewhere else, that's fine, just... Well, you asked to come stay here for the night, right? For a reason?”
Still reaching, still trying to bargain. The soldier looked up, tried to think of a way to explain around this, tried to meet Braeburn's eyes.
“I needed something,” she vaguely answered.
“And what's that?”
For a brief moment, Braeburn thought he saw a return of that look he saw in the soldiers eyes when she first same to town. Almost like a predator, a look that didn't quite fit on a pony's face. The soldier reached in, Braeburn freezing in place as she embraced him, her horn sprouting once more, out of the stallion's sight.
“D-Dusty?” he asked hesitantly, bring his own front hooves up, uncertain of if he should hold her or push her away.
The soldier worked her changeling magic, the glowing green tracing from her horn to Braeburn, enveloping around his forehead, his eyes struggling as his head received the light bit of scrambling and prodding needed to get the best feeding, and leave his memory a little off the hook. The soldier smacked her lips a little as she started to digest the feelings. Some of the bad, the desperation, the anger, tinged the emotions bitterly. The rest though, the concern for the community for his family. That love for the family in particular... The soldier couldn't help but pause for a moment as she felt Braeburn slump onto her, some of his ambient emotions still flowing off him. Processing the emotions was difficult for her, especially with much more in control she was in the situation, relatively speaking. She'd been used to just feeding on processed nectar most of her life. She'd consume emotions directly sometimes but that had only been out an occasional necessity. It was strange, feeling the sensations go through her. Not just a taste, but a full consumption.
She needed to leave. She was done here.
Slipping away from Braeburn, she got off the bed, making a few steps for the door before looking back, seeing the Stallion slumping forward awkwardly to the foot of the bed. He certainly didn't look that way when she came in. Going back around, she pushed the unconscious Braeburn around, trying to get him into a more natural looking position, or at least as much as she was able to figure looked normal. Stepping back, feeling at last satisfied with the position she had left the stallion in, the soldier went out the door, and finally to the outdoors proper, leaving Braeburn's home behind. East... The soldier looked off briefly in the direction of where the sun had disappeared a few hours. All she had to do was go in the opposing direction. Simple enough. Except – wait. That smell...
The young colt, Cameo. Fear. Determination. Why was it fresh here, outside? Reluctantly, the soldier returned to the house, hoping her fears were not about to be confirmed. Looking at what she saw though, could only do that. The window was open by a bare crack, a barrel moved into place in such a way that hinted at the colt trying to have a way to close the window despite his short height. And looking inside... Cinnamon Cider and Water Chestnut were there, sleeping contentedly in their bed. Cinnamon was holding a pillow that the soldier knew should be Cameo, based on her last look in their room before bed time. The soldiers teeth clenched tightly, baring them as they ground together. She did not need this. The outlaws could potentially be blamed for a kidnapping, but she could as well. She didn't know how much scrambling occurred in the ponies head with her feeding, but she still risked something being remembered of her this night with Braeburn.
Idiot foal... she thought to herself, scuffing up the ground a little with a hoof as she tried to channel her aggression. She wasn't sure what the colt might be doing, but she couldn't risk him going off and doing something dangerous. True, the ponies might be interested in tracking her either way, but with suspicion of kidnapping off her and the outlaws still being an issue she had a better chance of continuing her journey unharassed.
Closing her eyes for a moment, the soldier focused her thoughts, took a breath. She imagined a coordinator, giving her a new order. Locate the colt Cameo. Return him to the Braeburn residence. Continue to fall back to the original colony. More orders will come as necessary.
There. The soldier opened her eyes, feeling a little refreshed, a little more ready to do what she needed to do. Holding her nose to the ground, she followed the scent of what the foal had left behind. Trekking out, she tried to think about when the colt might have left. With the scent as fresh as it was, she suspected it had been no more than an hour, which meant she probably had a decent chance of finding him and bringing him back before the sun rose again. His scent however, was starting to head back out into the wilderness. The soldier shook her head. She did not need this to go on longer and into potentially dangerous places. The area was thankfully sparse with vegetation, but there were still plenty of rocks and rolling hills that would keep this search from being easy. The soldier flexed her wings, trying to roll the joints they were on. Still hurt. However, if there was a chance she could focus her current emotional stores into repairing them... would that be worth it?
She would be placing herself at risk again. Concentrating on what she had residing in her, she figured she would only have enough for a few days travel if she gave herself a bare minimum regeneration on her wings. However unattractive that prospect might be though, she was hoping to get out of here soon. But if she just wasted her energy on such an act, she risked going through a similar scenario as what brought her to this town. And she had been downright lucky in that situation, she was at least aware of that much. Looking up at the moon in the sky, the soldier tried to do another quick thought of how much time was left. Perhaps if she went on hoof for a while, and then went to flying if that didn't work. Yes, that made sense. A compromise between the ideas.
As she continued on though, the soldier found herself starting to find the idea of using wings more attractive. While her eyes were more than adequate in the low-light illumination of the moon, it didn't stop her from the occasional stumble. And as she followed the scent trail, she realized the colt must have had the same problem. Every once in a while, she picked up a shot of fear in the trail, no doubt cause from the sudden loss of hooving. She was at least glad that did happen though, as it made the scent he left behind more potent when it happened. And additionally, thankfully, there came a point where she finally found the colt. Finally.
Cameo was walking about near a tall, dead-looking tree. He would occasionally stomp the ground, look around some more – quite slowly the soldier noticed. Judging from how he was leering, it seemed evident that it was because of the low-light conditions. Once again, the soldier felt grateful for the gifts of her race, stepping forward and speaking to the colt in a cold tone that held a slight air of menace to it in just how controlled her voice was.
“You shouldn't be out here.”
Cameo jumped and whipped around, a fresh wave of fear rolling off of him. He looked ready to fight for a moment until he saw who the speaker addressing him was.
“Oh, uh, hey Dusty,” the colt said sheepishly, “I uh, I just wanted to make sure this was really here,”
The soldier leered down at Cameo. She didn't seem to blink either, which was creepy.
“I, uh, I heard them outlaws talking about this place, and thought, well, wouldn't it be cool if I found their stash, and showed it off to everyone back in town?” he tried to explain.
“Why didn't you tell an adult about this so they could verify it themselves?” the soldier asked.
“Well, I, well... I thought it might be nice to kinda be the one to do somethin' heroic, and... uh...”
“You don't benefit your community by hiding information. Giving how important you are to your family,” she certainly knew Braeburn cared immensely from her feeding. And the parents, while experienced indirectly, definitely held a tremendous investment in the young colt, “You only serve to put yourself at tremendous risk while generating worry in them. Come, let's get you back to Apploosa.”
“But, but, I mean we're already here, can't we look around?”
The smell of Cameo was here of course, and in turn there were a few traces of other ponies. They had been here a while ago, in the past few hours, likely. So this place might be a possible hidden area. However, that was besides the point. The soldier was more concerned with the fact that this colt had just risked making her a suspect and needed to get him home before it was too late.
“No. I am taking you back to Braeburn's,” she stated, making it quite clear this was not up for debate, “If this place is as important as you say it is, you can tell one of the adults back in Apploosa about it and they can handle it.”
“But...”
The soldier tired of arguing with Cameo, and so instead just glared at him, the moon's pale light reflecting off her eyes, waiting and watching as his sense of objection seemed to die out under the intense scrutiny,
“Okay...”
“Follow me,” the soldier instructed.
Cameo quickly fell in next to the soldier, looking down at the ground. Resentment, disappointment – bitter tastes, but the soldier would tolerate them. There was also a stress and surprise that was in the air though, which made sense for when she first came up on him, but for some reason this one was... The soldier stopped in placed. Cameo looked up at her, a little confused, though she also detected a little bit of hope in him.
“Uh, did you change your – “
The colt didn't have long to ask before the soldier placed a hoof over his mouth.
“Be silent,” she quietly hissed.
That scent she had detected just now, that wasn't Cameo. It was coming from upwind. If this place really was a location the outlaws used to stash things, then...
“You have trouble walking in this area, correct?” the soldier asked, trying to keep voice low still. It was probably the only time she wished a pony could interpret the non-verbal communication abilities a changeling could possess. Anyone with a good enough sense of hearing could compromise a potential plan.
“I've... probably tripped on a few rocks...” Cameo admitted. The fear starting to roll off of him showed he at least was getting a small sense of the danger that had to be at hand for the soldier to be talking in tones as hushed as she was.
“Get on my back,” she said, laying low to the ground for a moment.
Cameo did as he was ordered to without complaint. The soldier rose back up without too much trouble – she had something in her figurative belly, and she was used to needing to carry fully grown changelings who might be injured, so this was an easy effort. Her wings protested a little from the weight, she could afford to ignore that. In fact, the soldier started to think that maybe the wing regeneration wouldn't be such a bad idea to implement. It all depended on how much this situation swung into a confrontational direction.
“What's going on Dusty?” Cameo asked.
“Be silent,” the soldier again insisted.
Walking forward, trying to make her way over the rough terrain, the soldier aimed for reaching some high ground in hopes that she could survey the area at least a little bit, maybe see if she could catch sight of anyone who might be watching them. Her ears flicked as she tried to pick out sounds, signs of movement. Her empathic abilities opened up more as she tried to figure if there was any pony around who might give away where they were, and potentially what they were planning.
Noticing some movement to her left, the soldier focused her senses that way. More rocks. Several large rocks big enough to obscure hiding ponies. And as her emotion sensing extended that way, the soldier realized that it was obscuring hostile ponies. Internally, the soldier started to cycle some energy through her system, into her wings. Long term survival was going down, but right now a short term solution was going to mean more.
“I'm afraid I can't let you leave, missy,” a voice shouted in the distance.
The soldier looked to the source, a stallion standing on a hill to her right. It wasn't Scornful, but he didn't look any more friendlier. Cameo looked over fearfully at the stallion, who was at that very moment strutting down to them like he owned them.
“So how about this, you don't resist, and I won't have to hurt ya, that sounds reasonable don't it?” he asked.
“D-don't think you can act so tough! Dusty here managed to take Scornful and two of his flunkies without any trouble, she can handle you!” Cameo stated, trying to put on some bravado.
“Oh really? Well, I wouldn't mind a little one-on-one to see just how well I can do. What do you say, darling? I think I could do with a little challenge. Why, as a matter of fact, I'll have you know I was quite the prize fighter in my prime. I could get get out eight kicks in under a second. River Reed the Rapid, they'd call me,” the stallion boasted.
He was stalling. She could tell not only from a skimming of his now observable thoughts, but because of the two presences approaching her from behind. The ponies who had been hiding behind the rock were trying to sneak up on her it seemed, or failing that, were looking to flank her between Reed and themselves
“No,” the soldier stated.
“Aw, come on missy, what's the matter? Are you chicken?” Reed smirked.
“No. I am a soldier. And I have no intention of losing my life needlessly to an ambush,” she stated.
“W-what?” Cameo stuttered.
“Behind us,” the soldier stated.
Cameo looked back to see what the soldier could sense, two surprised ponies, one a pegasus and the other a unicorn.
“Well damn, you must have some good ears on you... Dusty, was it?” Reed asked, genuinely surprised and impressed himself.
The soldier continued to walk back in the direction of Apploosa, backing up slowly to avoid tripping while still keeping an eye on all the ponies concerned here.
“I am Dusty, yes.”
At the moment, the soldier was glad that she had at least started to regenerate their wings a little before this started, though she was really wishing she had thought to do so even sooner. She would be well out of here. Unfortunately, that pegasus might be some trouble. She was already thinking of chasing after her, the soldier could tell.
“Usually Whisper and Cirrus here manage to get by anywhere undetected, even in daylight... A soldier huh? Special forces?” Reed went on.
If this could be kept up, maybe she could get her wings regenerated before he finished talking. At least she'd only need to worry about one pony in that case.
“I defend where I'm needed. I attack where I'm needed. That's all there is to it,” the soldier stated as she continued to back up.
` “So modest. How about we stop this little game of slow retreat and have an actual discussion? Maybe about an employment opportunity. You're not from Apploosa, aren't you? You don't got the accent for it,” Reed said, cocking his head to the side.
“I am from far away,” the soldier nodded.
“Yer not gonna side with them are ya?!” Cameo exclaimed.
“Be silent!” she sharply commanded, giving the colt on her back an equally sharp glare.
“Y'better listen to her colt, the adults are talking,” Reed said with a smirk, looking a little over the soldier as he did so, “Far away. Alright. How far?”
“Further than you know.”
“That so? Alright, mare of mystery, if that's how you want to play it, fine,” Reed shrugged before looking over at the unicorn. “Say, Whisper, how about shedding a little light on this situation now that we're all out in the open? I'd like to know our potential employee's face.”
The unicorn raised his head up, the tip of his horn illuminating, softly at first, before expanding to light up the area. As the light reached the soldiers face, her eyes twitched a little as they adjusted to the higher light levels from the magic while still being able to pierce the natural darkness. Looking at Reed though, it became evident that the soldier's eyes weren't the only ones that needed help with adjustment. A cold array of emotions diffused from Reed as the corners of his mouth pulled back, jaw hanging slightly open. Confusion. Surprise. Terror.
“You...” he muttered, “You're – you're not...”
“Reed?” Whisper spoke up, the white unicorn looking with confusion at the earth pony in question. The pegasus was also looking over questioning at Reed. Neither seemed to share that sense of suprise, that chill. Nor that growing sense of anger that the soldier felt.
“Shut it!” Reed snapped at Whisper before looking back at the soldier, “You – you're dead. I know you're dead, I killed you myself!”
The mare she based her appearance on.
“You're mistaking me for someone else,” the soldier stated, hoping it would dissuade the earth pony. It did no such thing.
“Don't try to play me – I don't know if you're some damn ghost escaped from Tartarus or what, but rest assured, I am not letting you go alive, Mirage!”
Reed lept at the soldier, springing with a surprising speed. Thankfully though, the soldier was beginning to anticipate the action as well, and sidestepped the attempted tackle before taking off, at least as quickly as she could given the terrain. Now of all times, she really needed her wings ready to fly.
“Get her!” Reed shouted, the other two outlaws pursuing immediately.
Thankfully, not needing a light made it easy to run through the rocks despite the darkness, though the soldier still encountered her stumbles, but kept pushing on. Unfortunately, a tackle from a certain pegasus meant that such a run was meaningless. Cameo fell to the ground as the soldier dealt with being rolled around and struck repeatedly by Cirrus. The soldier cursed the soft exterior these ponies had and she needed to adopt.
“Dusty!” Cameo cried out, starting to come over to fighting.
“Get back to Apploosa, I'll hold them off,” the soldier ordered as she delivered a hit to Cirrus, knocking her away. Not having to defend the colt would make this significantly easier.
“But – “
“Do as I say!”
Cameo hesitated for a moment, but eventually started to head off.
“If you're planning on waiting out for reinforcements, think again!” Reed shouted as he came forward with a another charge. Unlike last time though he didn't blindly tackle, and managed to land a few hits in before the soldier backed away, “We got you outnumbered. Cirrus, go catch that kid!”
Just as the pegasus started to take off, the soldier flexed her own wings and charged for Cirrus. As long as the foal made it back, that would be fine. She could afford to take on some ponies long enough for that to happen. Cirrus cried out in pain as the soldier slammed her into the ground before quickly delivering a kick behind her to Whisper. The soldier breathed heavily though as pain lanced up through wings. They were freshly rejuvenated and still needed more time to be properly stretch out and function. The soldier grimaced, but pulled the corner of her mouth out longer into a snarl.
“Figures, you were a hard one to put down after all,” Reed commented before delivering a another kick that the soldier just barely dodged.
The soldier briefly leaned back before delivering her own strike, which the earth pony seemed to have a enough sense to stay well away from. Two hostile presences signaled an attack from Whisper and Cirrus incoming. The soldier managed to avoid a telekinetic throw of some rocks, but was still struck hard by Cirrus, sending the soldier off the side, stumbling over in the dirt for a moment into the ground. She tried to get back up, but even her legs were hurting now.
“Still mortal though. Still beatable. And I will make sure it takes this time,” Reed said as he came up on her.
The soldier glared at Reed as he approached, the other two closing in beside him. She hated this situation. If she were with the hive they'd be able to swarm over these damn ponies without a problem. As it was though, she was alone. Alone and in this soft pony form. If she was in her natural form, the natural chitin plating would dull some hits. She wouldn't have the gradual drain of her disguise sipping off her energy. And it was bad enough she still needed time to get her wings to work. Finally getting up on her legs, she glared defiantly at the approaching earth pony. Damn the charade. These ponies were the equivalent of irregulars, what did it matter if her nature was opened to them.
A curved, black horn sprouted from the soldier's head, gradually coming out and glistening in the light of night like some fang.
“What – what in Tartarus...” Reed gasped, actually backing up. The feelings he had experienced before upon seeing “Dusty's” face were coming back with a vengeance, “What are you?!”
A flash of green spread down the horn and over the form of the apparent pegasus the soldier had disguised herself as, seeming to burn away the pony form to reveal the insect/equine hybrid shape underneath. Once feathered wings spread into transparent insect ones.
“I am a soldier,” she stated, the reverberating rasp of her changeling voice cutting through the air.
“She – she's some kinda demon!” Cirrus uttered.
“Kill it, kill it, kill it!” Reed cried out, almost on the verge of screaming.
As all three went in for the strike, filled with a primal fear of what they beheld, the soldier felt her mind spark and go into overdrive, the world seeming to slow down around her like in the cave with Scornful. Reed appeared a little old, but it was clear he still had the constitution of his particular pony race. He would last the longest. The unicorn was panicked now, but could easily come to his sense after the initial panic was over. His telekinesis made him a risk that would need to be taken care of first. After that, the pegasus would be a good second target. Her maneuverability was an advantage the enemy did not need.
The world returned to normal. The soldier shot up directly, forcing her wings to work despite their protests, before zipping directly down at the unicorn, striking them in the back with a kick, sending him collapsing to the ground. Still awake though. Leaping off to the side, she tried to draw the other ponies' attention away from the unicorn to focus on her, following her for a moment before she tackled Cirrus to the ground, keeping the pegasus off her for a moment before returning to Whisper, pressing her horn to the unicorn's – the last conscious thought he had was of terror as she fed on him. The potent fear made the soldier gag, retching on the bitter taste, but it would help to at least assure he would stay down and not interfere.
“Sweet Celestia!” Cirrus said, getting up just in time to witness the act, “What in Tartarus did she just do to him?!”
“I – I don't know! Take her out before she does us in too!” Reed shouted.
The soldier looked to the pegasus, eyeing her next target. The sense of terror spiked as the changeling's eyes locked onto her.
“Ya know what? No, buck this mess, I'm done!” Cirrus said before taking off into the night.
“What? No! Get back here!” Reed called after her before he found himself filled with the need to turn around and keep an eye on the changeling, realizing he could not afford to keep his back turned.
He started to back away from her as she advanced. The soldier was feeling rather proud of herself – she'd already broken morale enough to make one of the enemy combatants leave. One less thing to worry about.
“Stay away from me!” Reed shouted, bumping into a large rock before correcting his reverse path, “Y – you, whatever you are!”
The soldier uttered no retort, no offer, no ultimatum. She just leapt forward and attacked Reed with reckless abandon. Heavy strikes with her hooves, painful bites with her fangs. He put a good fight himself, striking back, but her hard exteriors shielded her better against his blows than hers did to his. Unfortunately, it seem that even with her advantages, Reeds survival drive and experience was helping him win out in a few blows. He even managed to strike her a spot that had been enough of an irritation before for her – her wings. After enough tumbles against the rocky landscape once again bent and crushed parts of her gossamer wings to the point of pain and uselessness. All that work, attempting to repair them and they just fell into uselessness anyway. It frustrated the soldier. One more setback, one more thing that was getting in the way of her mission home. The frustration fueled her, drove her further despite Reed's own combat effectiveness. It kept her alive, awake, and standing after Reed's stamina betrayed him. Eventually, she had him pinned, and pressed her horn against his forehead.
“N – no! Please! Mercy, have mercy!” the stallion whimpered, weakly trying to push back.
It was no use though. The soldier fed, scrambling his thoughts and leaving him unconscious. It was done. The bitter taste of fear built up too high in her though, and as she started to stumble, the soldier found herself coughing up some of the fluids she had been drinking in the past day, a foul green miasma glowing within it briefly before dying out and leaving behind what was essentially water – the negative emotions her body had rejected because of their sheer potency dissipated in the ground and air with no living thing to contain them.
The soldier shook as brought herself back to an upright position. She'd rarely used her feeding so... offensively. It was never recommended among the hive, and here the soldier could understand why. With most of the negative emotions out of her system she wasn't feeling as sick, but she still wasn't feeling very well. If she were to still need to fight, she would most certainly be doomed. In the end, she figured that maybe she cost herself even more time with her energy reserves. Maybe only a day or two at most before starvation. Back to square one. At least she managed to follow her orders though. Cameo was found and sent back. She could continue. Climbing up a small hill, the soldier thought on what she could do next. Maybe she could go back and try to feed on someone else in town before it got much closer to sunrise? She risked contact with a Canterlot representative though, but perhaps they would not show up until daytime. Ponies seemed to do a lot during the day time after all.
Reaching the top of the hill though, it became evident that such a course of action would likely not work in her favor though. Off in the distance, the soldier noticed something she knew definitely had not been there before. Lights. The distant shapes of ponies coming out of the town, some holding torches in their mouths. High alert then, that was no good. And they were coming her way, that was even worse. But why – of course, Cameo. He must have alerted the adults about what had happened, and now they were coming out to retrieve the outlaws. Irritating for the soldier's purposes, but she supposed it made sense. The soldier shook her head and heaved a haggard breath. Head east then. It was all she could really afford to do at this point. Turning away from the town, she began her trek away from Apploosa. Just keep going. She would make her way back eventually, and leave behind the hardship of this lonely service to herself. Just keep going.
Rocks continued to impede the changeling, more so than even before. The empty feeling from rejecting those negative emotions still sucked away at her, lingering just as much as the bitter aftertaste in her mouth. It made the changeling yearn for the blandly sweet but filling taste of nectar that infiltrators would dispense after a long time of storing in miscellaneous good feelings. The soldier coughed up a little more fluid as she stumbled along, her body still trying to purge itself of what it had been put through. She started to meander, realizing she was not staying on a set course, and tried her best to keep herself corrected. A distant, loud noise behind suddenly set her on alert. She turned about, looking into the dark – or rather, the points of light within the dark. She focused her ears, and realized what was being shouted was her alias. They were trying to get her attention. Find her. No, no no no no no, she did not need this right now. Why couldn't they leave well enough alone? The soldier altered her course purposefully, trying to get out of the way of the searching parties. Eventually, tired of the walking as the feeling in her stomach ate at her, the soldier just waited behind a rock. Wait until they tired themselves out and gave up their search.
As they time went by though, the cries didn't stop. And soon, the soldier could even feel the emotions of some coming nearby. The concern, the beautiful concern... If she could feed directly on even just a little bit of that... The changeling enwreathed herself in transformation magic once again, putting on the Dusty disguise. If she could just wait for whichever pony this was to come by, then she could get them alone, then she could feed. Except – no, another pony was there was well. Still, it was dark, and not all of them had been carrying torches, so maybe she had a chance. Except, as she soon realized after poking her head out, each of them had their own light. And judging from the surprised look on the one looking her way, she was already compromised.
“I found her!”
Damn, damn, damn! No! Why couldn't she pull off a plan without running into a complication like this? This wasn't supposed to happen, if only that colt hadn't run off she would be well on her way right now with a full belly and feeling significantly less ill. The soldier went back behind the rock, trying to hobble away in the shadow the rock cast against the torchlight. It would not do though, of course, and soon she was set upon by the two ponies who found her. One of them was a familiar face actually, Paddywhack.
“Whoa there Dusty, where ya' going? You alright?” the earth pony asked, managed to speak surprisingly eloquent with the torch in his mouth.
Why couldn't they just not care about her. The disguised changeling tried to continue walking along.
“Hey, hey! Can you hear me? I asked if you're alright!”
Of course she heard him. The soldier stopped in place as she cursed her situation internally. Paddywhack came up closer, reaching out a hoof. The concern coming off that contact, flowing off her back was something that actually felt good, but there was no point in indulging that. It gave the soldier a bare minimum of sustenance, but that was it. Nothing work swelling on. She needed to sever this tie.
“I am fine. I need to go,” she spoke up, holding back the urge that was building in her throat to release more material. She found herself coughing, but thankfully not much came of it.
“Ya don't sound fine in the least,” Paddywhack incredulously noted a with a slight shake of the head. He looked to the other pony's direction, “Scribble, Get Bones will ya?”
Scribble nodded before heading off. The soldier, noticing this movement, turned about. Now he was alone with her. If only for the briefest of moments... Should she go in right now? No, that would be suspicious if not look outright hostile after her insistence on leaving. Play it cool. Let him approach.
“There, see? Now help is on the way.”
Come closer, the soldier begged within her head, just a little closer.
“We found Reed and Whisper knocked out, Cameo mentioned something about a pegasus though, think you might have seen where she went?”
“She fled,” the soldier said, giving the bare minimum cooperation.
“Huh, alright, weird.”
He came in just close enough. The soldier made as though she were stumbling forward, falling forward into Paddywhack.
“Whoa there! Take it easy,” the earth pony said as he held a hoof up to hold her a little bit.
The soldier let her horn sprout once more. There was a small shot of anxiety and restlessness in Paddywhack, but there was plenty of concern here. All she had to do was –
Bones and Scribble came out from over the hill. The soldier quickly withdrew her horn, hoping the shadows had obscured it enough. That didn't help her desire to feed though. She had been so close, so close to something that hopefully at the least could cleanse her palette. She pushed herself away from Paddywhack, trying to reorient herself away, to focus on leaving. But the ponies wouldn't allow her though.
“Dusty! What in the wide, wide world are you doing out here?” Bones demanded, coming up in front of her, levitating his torch with telekinesis as he looked around her, trying to get a read on her and maybe figure out what was going on with her, “That moisture on your muzzle... That was you that threw up then back there.”
“I need to go,” the soldier repeated.
“You need medical attention is what you need, Dusty,” Bones insisted.
“I will be fine. I need to go. I will survive. I always survive,” the soldier insisted, trying to stumble off once more.
“Sweet Celestia, Dusty, just stop! I'm trying to help you! Just stop for a second and look at yourself!”
“I don't need your help,” the soldier icily responded, “Let me be. I don't need your treatment. I don't need the help of the rest of your town. I just need to be – anywhere else.”
“Consarnit, why?! You said yourself you weren't going anywhere, what's wrong with here?”
“It's not my home!” the soldier finally exclaimed, bursting with a fit of terse, unsettling rage that could no longer be contained after just trying to get this pony away from her, “This isn't where I belong. This isn't...”
The anger started to boil back down after the initial release of pressure. She could tell for a moment that Bones was actually scared a little by this display, which in itself did not help. The soldier found herself heaving again as the taste of fear made her body feel like insisting that there was still more material within her that needed to be rid of. That in itself brought some of the concern back after a moment, but the soldier really didn't need the help.
“Then just let me try to patch you up and you can go whenever the trains are back up. I'll pay the ticket myself.”
“I'll be fine on my own.”
“Dusty, the next town over is Dodge Junction, and that's separated from us by at least a week's travel on hoof.”
And it was the truth, unfortunately. That earnestness in his heart spoke it at least. A rumble resounded in the soldier's throat, another expression of the seething frustration. Leaving was not an option. She'd have to stay. She had a chance of perishing either way, but she had to hope she would at least have more time, more of a chance in Apploosa.
“Alright,” she reluctantly acquiesced.
As she started to be led back to town, being helped along by Paddywhack and Bones, the doctor starting asking her questions, trying to figure out what happened. The soldier tuned them out though. Her chances of survival were slim. Their care, their concern, it was highly likely not going to matter in the end. Why did the invasion have to fail? Why did she have to be stuck in the middle of nowhere? Why did the colt have to go out? Why did the outlaws have to be here?
“Why did you have to care...” If this long string of circumstances working against her hadn't been capped off by the concern, she would have at least had a better chance of going back and feeding without them waiting to keep an eye on her. As is it was, it was going to become hard to engage in a series of feedings without attracting suspicion even more.
There was a brief slow down in the pace as Paddywhack and Bones found themselves surprised by her actually saying something, and also at the content of her words.
“We care because we're decent pony folk,” Paddywhack responded, an edge of taken insult clear in his tone. A quick, shaming look from Bones shut down some of that fervor though.
“We care because we can tell yer a pony in need, and, well I suppose it's kind along what Paddy said, it's the good, decent thing to do. And besides, you've also helped out a little as well. Now we got two crooks that are gonna be landed in jail, and from the sound of it you managed to save Cameo again,” Bones tried, leaning more towards the positive. It did help the soldier at little, but the mention of the colt brought about a twitch in the corner of her mouth.
“The colt should be more securely contained,” she suggested, the barest hint of a bite detectable in her cold voice.
“Oh good heavens, yes. I reckon Cameo will be grounded and kept in Braeburn's place until they leave. And I won't be surprised if that punishment continues back at home,” Bones nodded.
“Good.”
A pause followed for a moment until a brief thought of hope from Bones became a harbinger to a question.
“Don't suppose you're ready to give your version of what happened?”
The soldier probably wasn't ever going to be ready to give the best account that simultaneously, sufficiently, covered the truth. But then, probably for the best to give an version of events before the criminals did. They might not be believed, but then again, they might.
“I was going to leave. I noticed signs that Cameo had left. Decided to look for him before leaving. Tracked him. Tried getting him to go back. Intercepted by the outlaws. Had Cameo run while I kept them distracted. The unicorn was the first to fall. The pegasus fled after that. The earth pony was taken down next. I tried to walk away,” she tersely recounted, omitting her transformation and feeding.
“How'd you get so sick though?” Paddywhack asked.
“Physical trauma, combined with recent recovery from the elements?” Bones offered questioningly, “You've got a fair share of bruises in sensitive places from the look of it. And pushing yourself that much physically ain't good when you're still needing to get better.”
“That sounds likely,” the soldier agreed, going along with it.
The question at this point though, was how long the town ponies were going to remain ignorant of what she was doing. The outlaws were going to be a potential giveaway. And there was the question of how much her feeding would show signs. She knew that the feeding process could leave a magic signature, but it was very subtle, and usually magic wielding ponies didn't detect it off hand unless they were specifically looking for it. There was also a chance of a headache though, especially with continued feedings, which would be even more of an obvious dead giveaway. And when she thought about it, she never figured what happened to the first pony she fed on here, how thoroughly he was looked over. And then there was Braeburn, he could still potentially be an open end – it would likely depend on how much he remembered, as well as what sort of symptoms he might be displaying. Chance. The soldier hated chance, hated weighing it. It was all she had to lean on at this moment though. A chance to be alone with someone. A chance that the Canterlot representative would not arrive soon. As she was at long last brought back into the clinic, back to the familiar bed, the soldier ruminated on these chances, even as she was at long last allowed to lay and have a chance to sleep. Her mind didn't allow her to relax while some part of her brain insisted she should be awake and on guard against the threats she feared.
Eventually though, she managed to reason enough with herself to help herself come to grips with what was happening. There was a chance she might wake up captive – or not awake at all. But as it was, being awake would not help her. She was weakened, tired, her body still trying to process and filter out what remained of her good stock of emotions from the bad. When it came down to weighing the options, resting versus not resting, the former had a higher survival chance than the other. She did what she could to enforce that in her mind, even once again calling upon that imaginary coordinator she had dreamed up for giving her orders. The coordinator had done the calculations, the risk assessment, and had decided that resting and recovering was the best course of action for this soldier. With the mental gymnastics done, the soldier finally found herself able to relax, however slightly, and drift off. She would receive her next 'orders' in due time.