Politics

by Dai Kirai

Side Story: Sweetie's Ordeal

3/28/14 5:00pm Outside Area 51, Nevada, Earth

Private Harris Mitchel was standing guard, he was almost off duty and completely exhausted. It wasn’t the long day guarding a building where nothing ever happened; he had expected that and what he’d been doing for the last few weeks. It was his neighbor, his new neighbor. The area Harris lived in, and he had specifically selected that area because it was quiet. He never had to worry about any commotion but the old neighbor moved out all of a sudden, without even a word. A new neighbor moved in almost instantly, and everything seemed fine, until last night. The previous night, every time Harris was about to fall asleep the banging of working on machines would start up or a small explosion would occur.

The explosion at 2am had been the last straw; Harris got out of bed and stormed over to his neighbor’s door. Banging on the door only elicited a response after the fifth hit.

“Huh?” A voice replied on the other side of the door.

“What the hell are you doing in there?!” Harris yelled, irate. “Why are there explosions?”

“Oh.” The voice replied cheerfully. “Sorry ‘bout that. But do you know how hard it is to build and calibrate a torque regression variable resonance modulation and promulgation array with gravinometric isolation and trochilic dampening without hands?” The male voice asked.

“What is that in English?” Harris asked, unsure about this insane person that had moved in.

“Hehe.” The voice laughed. “Sorry, spoilers.”

Harris’s eyes enlarged. Who the hell moved in? Some sort of ‘mad scientist’? He wondered. “Is it harmless?” The military personal asked the strange occupant.

“Oh, yes.” The stranger replied, still not opening the door. “Harmless is just the word: that’s why I like it. Doesn’t kill, doesn’t wound, doesn’t maim.”

“Whatever.” Harris finally said, exacerbated by the nonsensical chatter. “Just, please keep it down.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, right.” The voice replied one last time as Harris went back to his apartment to get back to sleep. But by that time it was already too late for the soldier to fall back asleep.

So Private Harris Mitchel stood guard, waiting to get off at six. He ran back through his basic Equestrian warnings for the odd occasion a pony did show up, but he was too tired to remember even the basic ones, then again, he never did study them and doubted his ability to recall them. Stupid language anyway. He grumbled, language had never been his strongpoint, he never thought he’d need it as a guard staying in the US.

Harris’s eyes were tired and his mind was clouded and kept wandering to the incident at the portal, the one that almost started a war. When a changeling had come through and been shot by a keen observer, the guard had almost stabbed the marine, but had been stopped somehow. Since then, the story had been circulating; causing hesitancy towards ponies, any of them could be a changeling in disguise. The only good thing seemed to be that when shot, a changeling’s disguise would drop and its blood was a greenish color instead of the red that both humans and ponies shared.

Harris looked down at his watch. “5:31.” He mumbled, waiting for his relief to replace him and he could get the sleep he was sorely lacking. He spotted a white shape approaching him against the expanse of dirt brown desert at about 50 feet it spoke something he didn’t understand. The shape was that of a small pony and was quickly approaching. At least it looked like a pony; there was no way to tell for sure.

Harris shifted his stance, putting his right leg back to line up his hips and give him a better stance in case this was an attack. He stretched out his left hand in what he thought was a universal sign for stop as his right hand went to the gun at his hip. Although Harris was very skilled with the M9 Beretta on his hip and could hit a target perfectly at 50 yards; that was when he was well rested, and he never liked the thought of using it. “Freeze!” He yelled at the approaching creature. I may not like shooting, but I will defend myself and this country from any threat. The soldier promised himself, taking his oath very seriously.

At his words, Harris saw the shape speed up, the only time he had seen something similar was when he was hunting as a child with his dad and they were attacked by a wolf. Harris, out of instinct had lifted up the hunting rifle and fired, the wolf had died instantly. Again, Harris was forced to lift his gun and pointed it at the onrushing shape. The creature’s trail put up a trail of dust that helped to obscure its form, but it didn’t deter the marine as his finger tightened on the trigger.

Two shots rang out loudly in the silence of the empty desert. Harris knew his shots hit, but not the mark he was aiming for as the body tumbled onto its right side. As he approached the tiny body he saw tears had streaked her face those last few moments, the red blood covering the left side of the young foal’s face and the right foreleg in much the same condition. He missed, he never missed. But is that a bad thing? He wondered as the foal’s chest rose and fell, still alive only so long as she got help soon.

I could just leave her here while I get help, say she attacked. Or I could just dispose of the body and say animals got her. But he had a duty; the green he wore was his pride. And he would NEVER damage the corps for his own selfish needs. He would defend himself, no pony should ever have been out this far and ran at an armed human, but that shouldn’t keep them from getting help. It obviously wasn’t a changeling, the blood loss proved that.

Harris activated the radio on his chest and quickly gave his CO an update. “Sir. I have an injured pony here. She rushed me and she’s bleeding pretty bad. Get my replacement out here now, I can’t guarantee this wasn’t meant as a distraction.” He informed his superior, always tactically minded; he would have said the same in almost any country.

Without regard to what he might hear over the radio, he picked up the foal and held her against his chest, ignoring the sopping blood and entered the base. The infirmary in Bridle Lake may have been the preferred placed to get the pony treated but it wasn’t the closest. And with her size and amount of blood loss, time was of the essence. But a hiss over his radio informed him his commander had agreed.

He ran through the base holding the small creature. Every base had an infirmary, they typically only saw mild cases, but were prepared for almost any accident. As he ran through the doors into the infirmary, he saw a nurse and headed straight for her. The nurse was wearing the traditional blue scrubs of a nurse, contrasting with her short red hair and alabaster skin.

The nurse saw the red and white lump Harris was holding and rushed over. These personnel had been trained in how to take care of a pony and he happily handed the small shape to the nurse who set her on a gurney. After a moments inspection of the foal she rolled the gurney into a nearby room as she yelled for the doctors. “We have a foal of about seven years, blood loss and two gunshot wounds. One to the left ear and the other to the right hoof. Both are through and through, taking her to room one.”

Not even three seconds passed and two more people appeared out of side rooms wearing white lab coats and entered the same room. Harris could hear rushed sounds coming from the room and a few shouted lines every few minutes, asking for items or giving orders.

“Clean that wound! We don’t want the dirt to cause an infection. If we act quickly we can save the hoof.”

“Get me a saline drip and plasma, we need to keep her organs supplied. And get some O2 over that muzzle.”

“Apply saline and pressure to those wounds.”

“Three oh silk.”

4/2/14 3:00pm Equestrian Ambassador’s Residence, Earth

Rarity lay on the overly large hospital like bed atop the sheets, while wires and tubes connected to a small lump under them. Rarity was a mess, her indigo mane unbrushed for days and her eyes unlined. The Ambassador wasn’t asleep, it rarely came, and when it did all she could see was the effects of her actions. Most of the times she would see her beloved sister, Sweetie Belle; in a pool of blood, dead.

But her sister was safe and sound under the blankets, asleep. The young foal was still recovering from two gunshot wounds. It had been traumatic on the young pony, and Rarity had fought hard to get her sister out of the hospital. There is no way that dreary place can be better than her own house to recover in. So, Sweetie Belle’s room had been outfitted to double as her hospital room, with a doctor on duty in the guest bedroom. Rarity was willing to fight even Celestia on this, but her leader agreed whole-heartedly and felt it should continue when Sweetie went back to Equestria. Sweetie Belle would be staying at a friend’s home out on Sweet Apple Acres.

Rarity wrapped a leg around her sister, unsure what she would have done had the human’s aim been a little different.

At this moment a gentle knock on the door and Sweetie’s doctor entered. He was a white pony with a red plus sign for a cutie mark and red mane. His name was Rojas Cruz and he seemed like a good doctor. “How’s she doing today?” He asked in hushed tones as he went to check the medical readouts. The humans had insisted they use the machines to help, and some of them were more advanced than their Equestrian counterparts.

“Yes. The poor dear still hides under her covers.” Rarity responded languidly, bags under her azure eyes.

“You should get some sleep too.” Rojas stated as he lifted the covers to check on his patient. “The IV line seems to be working great. I don’t know if I could’ve treated a wound this well.” The doctor stated earnestly. “But those weapons should be banned.” He muttered under his breath. “Anything designed to impart that much pain is uncivilized.”

“Thank you darling.” She said with sincerity as the doctor left. A whimper from under the cover caused Rarity to lean in closer to hug her sister. “Hush now, Sweetie. It’s okay, sisters here.”

Rarity had to hold back another rack of sobs as she thought about what she almost lost. But it didn’t deter her, she would take her two months off, they would be needed. But after that, after that she would work to bring the two races together. This medical equipment proved how much good could be done if they simply cooperated with each other.

She knew the problem existed on both sides, she’d heard the stories about the poor mare that died in the portal and her romance, about the ponies who thought it was wrong or that the human had killed her. She had heard about the changeling as proof of treachery and how humans were bloodthirsty. But Rarity refused to believe it; none of the humans she had met were like that. No society could be completely evil, just like there was always some evil.

It takes a while to actualize ideals. The fashionista remembered from somewhere.

“But as Celestia as my witness,” Rarity said with more passion that her currently frail body belayed. “This will not happen to future generations. There will be peace.” With that final thought in her head and Sweetie in her arms, Rarity fell asleep and didn’t dream, but rested.

Author's Note:

This was written in the past week, something I hadn't realized had been glossed over. Issues of writing and knowing the story so well. Turns out I didn't cover the damage caused for quite a few chapters. For this I must apologize. This kind of things works wonderfully in expanding the world, and why I love comments.

But in writing it, I also realized what may have been the reason for that. And to be frank, it's because I hate writing that kind of scene. I don't like the blood or the pain and as a result keep it to a minimum and avoid it whenever possible, something that I am now working on, whether that's good or bad.

But this was never intended to be a coldhearted soldier just shooting a foal. In everything I write its about making it real, how the world might work. Also big on foreshadowing

Comments

[Mecha G]

So, does this mean this won't end like Futures?