The human/equestrian alliance is going strong, but NH5, the drug that keeps humans alive in Equestria, is going missing.
Dave, a soldier from earth, is chosen by Nightshade, a batpony, to assist in the joint operation of tracking down and apprehending the thieves stealing the medicine.
Dave’s heart pounded in his head as he ran. Sweat stung his eyes. His legs hurt and he could feel the burn in the back of his throat as his body burned off sugar in an attempt to increase the circulation of oxygen to his needy muscles. His backpack was bouncing on his back, jarring each step. His combat vest was smeared with dirt and leaves, and almost all of the pouches were empty, the magazines within discarded when they ran empty. His weapon was held across his chest as he ran. It was the newer Australian Army armament: the F88 S-A2 AUSTEYR.
They had been set up on a hill, overwatch for a small force that was making a run at the enemy headquarters. But the overwatch team, Dave included, had been ambushed well before the advance team was even in place, while they were out of sight in a thatch of forest.
One moment, everything was perfectly fine, and the next, they were surrounded on all sides. The general order for a retreat to the secondary rendezvous had been called, and that was why Dave was running through foreign woods at breakneck pace.
Dave slowed, his own breathing loud in his ears, lifting his weapon to shoulder height and aiming down the sights as he thought he saw a blur of movement ahead.
A figure stepped around the tree, wearing a smug smile.
Wreathed in purple armor, and wearing a pair of wicked three-pronged claws on either hoof, the batpony gave him a smirk from under her helm.
Dave made the conscious decision to pull the trigger on his firearm the moment before he realised that something was being tossed in his direction.
Wincing backwards, he raised the gun to protect his face, an instant before something exploded close by, showering him with sparks and temporarily blinding him.
Dave took several steps backwards, blinking rapidly to regain his sight, just in time to see a dark purple shape rushing him from the front.
The batpony leapt forward, wings extending as she did a full front-flip and slashed at him brutally with one of the claws on her forehoof.
Dave barely brought his weapon up in time to block the blow, the force of it sending him stumbling backwards, almost wrenching his weapon from his hands.
The batpony landed nimbly, skidding to a halt, hooves digging a long line in the soft mulch of the forest floor.
Turning, Dave raised his weapon to fire, only for the barrel to be smacked to the left by a quick swipe of the batpony’s left hoof. Following the line of the strike, Dave stepped into the blow, and then quickly jabbed the butt of his rifle towards his adversaries chest, jamming it against the breastplate of her armor.
The batpony gasped in surprise at the blow, making to swipe across his face with the claws, but Dave was already disengaging, spinning away to put distance between them so he could lift his rifle to fire.
Doggedly, the batpony kept after him, pushing him backwards and not letting him get any distance.
Dave was barely able to parry the next blow with his rifle, jarring his arm. The swipe after that caught him off guard, the claws glancing across his left arm, causing his entire arm to suddenly go numb and his entire body to twist to the left. He winced in pain, stepping into the next blow of the batpony, blocking it entirely with the length of the rifle, stepping on the hoof opposite to pin it in place, and then quickly attempted to bring the butt of the rifle up into the batpony’s face.
The batpony leaned backwards, and the butt of the rifle swung past her face with room to spare, leaving the human completely open to counterattack.
Smirking, she just flicked her claws across his thigh, making him cry out in pain and stumble backwards, holding his thigh with one hand, limping heavily.
With a smug smile, the batpony stalked after him, each step causing her claws to dig into the earth almost ominously.
Dave clenched his teeth, limping backward and raising his weapon again.
The batpony was waiting for it, shoving the barrel to the left this time, so he had no avenue to hit her with the butt of it.
Dave was also ready, not even trying to stop the wrench of his weapon to the right. Instead, Dave pivoting on his good, uninjured leg, drawing his sidearm with his left hand, and aimed it for the middle of the batpony.
The batpony was quicker though, a rapid backhand of her right hoof causing the gun to go spinning away into the foliage.
Already, Dave was bringing his rifle back up, attempting to spear the bayonet into the female’s chest or throat.
Tilting slightly to the left, the batpony let the bayonet slide past her shoulder and neck, wrapping a hoof around it, holding it in place with an iron grip, staring up at him with a smug grin.
Dave squeezed the trigger on his rifle.
Immediately, the look of smug victory on the batpony’s face transformed into one of pain and surprise, and she staggered, stunned by the discharge of the rifle so close to her ear.
Dave tried to tug his rifle free, but found that the stunned batpony was holding it fast. Instead, he took a limping step forwards, transferring the rifle to his left hand and then raising his right to punch the batpony square in the nose. He paused though, hand raised, staring down at her stunned, hazy expression.
The batpony’s eyes focused, and Dave felt the world suddenly spinning and tilting crazily as she caught him off guard with a quick sweep of a forehoof and a twist of the hoof around his weapon.
By the time Dave figured out which way was up and down, a three-pronged claw weapon was coming down at his face at a frightening rate of speed. He tried to roll, but his backpack and armor slowed his movements to a standstill. The claws caught him, and the entire world went black.
Blinding light assaulted Dave’s eyes as he regained consciousness. The medical lights over the bed were blindingly bright to his pained eyes. His head felt like it had a giant spike driven through it, and his thigh and left arm were throbbing with an angry, vibrant pain. He groaned faintly, shifting and trying to roll over.
“Hold still, soldier,” the medical officer hovering over the bed said, reaching over to open his eye with gentle fingertips and shining a light into it.
Dave wrenched his head back out of the light, wincing and squinting. “Ow, fucking stop that!”
There was a clatter as his sidearm fell onto the bedside table, and Dave squinted towards the sound, making out a blurry purple shape of some kind.
“You dropped this,” the batpony said. Even though he couldn’t see the expression on her face with the blurriness of his eyes, he could still hear the smugness in her tone.
Blindly, Dave reached for his sidearm, picking it up and thumbing the safety on before securing it in his holster. He squinted towards the batpony, eyes slowly focusing.
“Did you have to hit me in the face?” Dave asked, rubbing his tumble with his fingertips.
“That is your biggest weakness, isn’t it? You’re powerless without your head,” the batpony said smugly.
Dave’s eyes finally focused properly, and he stared at the batpony. Without her helm, she was really quite cute. Soft, greyish-purple fur, purple bat wings folded neatly to her back, large ears, a stylish purple mane, and slit-pupiled eyes of brilliant gold framed with faint purple eyeshadow.
“The idea of training exercises are to train, not maim,” Dave stated.
“You sound like a drill sergeant,” the batpony said with a roll of her eyes. “By the way, thanks for breaking my ear.”
“Breaking your ear?” Dave asked blankly.
“When you used your weapons near my ear. You broke my ear drum,” the batpony said with a wave of a hoof.
Dave winced in sympathy. “Well you were cutting me up pretty bad.”
“The claws can’t actually cut you,” the batpony reminded, shaking her head.
“Still hurts,” Dave admitted, rubbing his temple again.
“Well... Mr. Richards,” the batpony said, hesitating as she peered at his uniform to get his name. “Maybe next time you won’t get hit, huh?”
Dave rolled his eyes, before wincing and clenching his jaw at the pain that shot through his temple from the motion. “It’s just Dave,” he corrected, “And since you got my name, what’s yours?”
The batpony gave him a long, level stare. “Nightshade.”
A soft chuckle left Dave, and he went to sit up, before being pushed down forcefully by the medical officer.
“Are you laughing at my name?” Nightshade asked flatly.
“Yes, actually,” Dave said with a grin at her. “I had a cat called Nightshade one time. She was cute.”
Nightshade’s expression turned dark. “I am not cute. I am a dangerous predator. One that would have killed you, I remind.”
“My cat scratched me pretty deep, too,” Dave responded with a smirk.
Nightshade’s eyes narrowed slowly and she snorted once, turning on her hooves and stalking out of the room.
Dave grinned after her, waving sarcastically. “See you on the field!”
“You won’t be going out on the field any time soon,” the medical officer said, producing a light to check Dave’s pupils.
Dave bounced in place a few times, stretching and giving a sigh of relief. He had just divested himself of the training gear, and there was a literal weight lifted from his shoulders. He felt like he was bouncing on a cloud.
Before he could even wind down and get himself a drink, the squad leader was pushing open the door to the barracks and calling for an assembly.
The row of soldiers stood at attention, all dressed in their basic fatigues. They stood in perfect military rows, watching the front of the parade ground where a pair of batponies conversed with the CO in quiet tones.
“So uhhh… what’s happening, exactly?” Dave asked of the soldier next to him. It was his first week at the joint-operations base in Equestria, and he’d never seen or heard of anything like this before.
“Either inspection or they’re choosing a new victim,” was the candid response.
“Victim?” Dave asked, blinking once.
The soldier opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it as the CO stepped up to the front rank of the soldiers. “At attention, men!”
There was the distinctive echo of more than two dozen combat boots coming together as all of the soldiers on the parade ground straightened.
The two batponies stepped forwards. One was male, and the other was female. Dave immediately recognized the female. Nightshade.
The male batpony walked down the row of soldiers, eyes narrowing at them, looking them up and down, before pointing at one of them. The CO nodded, and made a motion with his chin towards the operations building. “Suit up, briefing in fifteen minutes.”
Dave stood staring forwards as Nightshade wandered past him. She paused, tilting slightly to peer past the first row to where he was standing. A slow, wicked smile spread across her features, and she point. “Him.”
In less than ten minutes, Dave was back in full combat gear. Fatigues, combat vest, helmet, goggles, backpack, the works. His shoulders slumped under the renewed weight of all the gear as he checked out a rifle from the armory. The base medic had given him clearance for the mission, and there was no getting out of it.
The person manning the armory slid his rifle to him, with some key modifications since he had checked it in. It had a precision ACOG, and an underslung launcher, along with three magazines and five objects that looked somewhat like an M203 fragmentation grenade that would slot into the launcher. But instead of a solid explosive head, these were just a tube filled with what looked to be crystals.
“Uhhh, what are these?” Dave asked lamely, gingerly picking up one of the cartridges and examining it carefully.
“Tesla grenade,” came the response. “Just fire it like a regular grenade. Flies faster but drops faster, too. A lot lighter than a regular grenade. Impact-detonated, and the little crystals in there are charged with magic enough that when it fragments, it shocks anything within about twenty metres. No arming distance. So aim high and take cover behind something. Preferably something made of lead.”
“Lethal?”
“Against a human? Probably.”
“Ahhh… Alrighty then,” Dave said, unsure, picking up the grenades and slotting them into his vest. “Can I throw them?”
“Sure, if you want to knock someone out with them. You won’t trigger the fuse unless it’s going faster than terminal velocity,” the armory officer said, turning back to his magazine. “Oh, and do yourself a favor and pack three extra canteens while you’re at it.”
“What for?” Dave asked, perplexed, as he slid the magazines for the rifle into their respective pouches and then slung the rifle over his shoulder.
“You’ve been chosen for a joint operations mission, yes?” the officer asked, raising a brow, looking at him over the top of the magazine.
Dave nodded.
“Yep, pack extra water. And take a good book,” the officer said with a wave of a hand.
A very confused Dave sat down for the briefing, finding himself alone in a room with the XO, a projector, and a map of Equestria on the wall.
“First time on one of these missions, soldier?” the XO asked.
Dave nodded curtly, adjusting his armor. “Kinda trying to suss out why I’m sitting down to a briefing in full combat gear, sir.”
“Because when you leave this room, you are no longer under the governance of the Australian Military. You will be operating under the command of your partner and will follow every order they give you, within reason, understood?”
Dave nodded. “Sir, yes sir.”
“Until you are released from your duties, you are to provide reconnaissance support and, if needed, fire support for your partner, operating as a two-man unit. I understand that you’ve received sniper/recon training in the past?” the XO asked, switching the projector on. A set of concentric circles appeared on the map.
Dave shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I received the training, but I feel it prudent to mention that I failed the course. Twice. Sir.”
“Don’t mince words with me, soldier. Did you fail because you’re too stupid or because you couldn’t shoot straight?” the XO queried bluntly.
“I kept getting caught up in the moment and I failed to clear my rifle properly after the first shot, sir,” Dave responded, hanging his head.
“Twice?”
“Twice, sir.”
“So you don’t learn from your mistakes?”
“I figure I’ll get it right next time, sir,” Dave said with a shake of his head.
“Well there won’t be any second chances on this mission, soldier. At least you know your recon training enough to hopefully be of some use. Mission parameters are recon only. No fire fights. No provoking the locals. And if you fire your weapon you had best have a damn good reason to do so or at least have a direct order from your partner giving you specific permission to drop that specific target. You aren’t in another country, soldier. You’re on another plane of existence, and be damned if a greenhorn fucks it up for us.”
“Sir, if you have such reservations about me going on this mission, why not pick someone else, sir?” Dave asked, keeping as expressionless as possible.
“That’s not how it works, soldier. Part of the Combined Operations Treaty states that Equestrian personnel choose specific units that are to be deployed on their land. Just as we get to choose specific ponies for joint operations on Earth.”
“Bent us over a barrel, sir?” Dave asked bluntly.
“You’re damn right they did, soldier. Now, shut up and listen to the briefing. We are on the hunt for five crates of missing NH5.”
“Five crates?” Dave asked, aghast.
“Five crates,” the XO repeated. “As you well know, humans need NH5 daily to protect themselves from ambient magic. So we are operating under the assumption that the shipment was stolen to keep a human element supplied.”
“Aren’t all humans in Equestria registered with the Transdimensional Services?”
“The TDS monitors all comings and goings to and from Equestria, yes, and all of them are accounted for. However, we don’t know if anyone survived the Icarus incident.”
“Icarus incident?” Dave asked blankly.
“A matter of national security that is need-to-know only,” the XO responded flatly.
“I think I need to know, sir, especially if I’m looking for survivors, sir,” Dave responded.
“Do you know your ancient history, son?”
“I know that Icarus was some random bloke with some fake wings that flew too close to the sun and got burned,” Dave responded with a shrug.
“Put two and two together, then.”
Dave frowned thoughtfully, staring down at his boots, tapping one against the floor slowly. “A human got on the bad side of Celestia?” he asked, looking up at the XO.
The XO nodded curtly.
“But there have been no human deaths in Equestria,” Dave said, perplexed.
“There have not, no, certainly not in Equestria,” the XO responded simply.
“You mean to tell me that those rumours were true?” Dave asked awed.
The XO shrugged. “I have heard no rumours.”
“Rumour had it that… in that first year, after the gate was opened. Someone from the east developed the NH5 and hired a team of mercenaries to go through the gate,” Dave said thoughtfully. “The terror attack on the gate was just the cover story, the rumour says. Special forces team went in, killed the gate guards, went through to Equestria and came back with a pony.”
“I cannot speculate,” the XO said simply. “But that’s a mighty interesting rumour.”
“Rumour also has it that Celestia came to Earth and tracked down the perpetrators herself, in Russia.”
“China, actually,” Nightshade said from the doorway.
Dave blinked, turning to look at her. “Really?”
“Really,” Nightshade responded simply, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. She was wearing her full battle armor. Head-to-hoof purple armor with shiny, vibrantly purple retractable claws on either hoof, and saddlebags hooked under her wings.
“Why would anyone want a pony?” Dave asked, confused. “We have horses back on earth.”
“Not magical talking horses that can fly, or make plants grow with a wave of their hoof, even in the worst of soils, or just use magic itself,” Nightshade explained.
Dave nodded once. “Still. Seems a little… crazy.”
“Your species, not mine,” Nightshade said with a smug smile flitting across her features.
The XO cleared his throat. “Soldier, this is your new commanding officer. You will afford her the same respect you would show me, and you will follow her orders as if they were my own. Understood?”
“Sir, yes sir,” Dave said, sketching a sarcastic salute.
“You are to assist where possible to locate and recover the NH5, using minimal force. Don’t make waves, understood?”
“Unless otherwise ordered, right?” Dave asked blankly.
“Damn straight, soldier.” The XO pointed at the map. “Now pay attention—”
Barely an hour later, Dave found himself walking down an Equestrian road, marching in step beside a fully-armored batpony. He felt extremely conspicuous in full battle dress, passing ponies pulling carts of fruit to market. They eyed him with slight fear, taking good, long looks at his rifle and armor. Nightshade, too, drew curious stares, but nothing on the order of what Dave was getting.
“So… why do other soldiers treat being assigned to a batpony partnership as some kind of punishment?” Dave asked bluntly as they walked.
“Maybe because it’s an absolute chore?” Nightshade asked, flashing her fangs at him in a smile.
“Nothing about this is exceedingly unpleasant,” Dave admitted, shrugging slightly and adjusting how his rifle hung in its straps. “Not even sweating yet.”
“Well you will be soon, first observation point is up on that mountain,” Nightshade said, pointing with a hoof up a slope and towards a snow-capped mountain.
Dave blanched, “You’re joking, right?”
Nightshade gave a slow, wicked grin, idly extending her wings in a stretch, before launching herself lazily into the air. “No, I am not. I’ll see you at the top, Mr Richards.”
Dave opened his mouth to protest, but Nightshade just dipped her wings and darted off over the treetops, giggling smugly.
A long-suffering sigh left Dave as he stared up the wooded slope towards the mountain, and he cringed. It was going to be a long, terrible afternoon.
Dave collapsed heavily, gasping for air, ignoring the pain of a sharp rock digging into his shoulder and just focusing on breathing. His head pounded with the need for oxygen and his legs ached, like they had become hollow inside and the vacuum was trying to suck his legs in until they crumpled in on themselves.
“Had some trouble?” Nightshade asked sweetly, fresh and relaxing in the soft dirt, hooves crossed in front of her. A small stand had been erected in front of her, and a long telescopic viewing glas was perched on the tripod, peering down into the valley below.
“You— should— try— climbing— a— hill— in— full— combat— gear,” Dave panted between heavy gasps, before rolling over onto his back and just laying there, trying to catch his breath.
“Nightfall soon,” Nightshade said, a happy note in the voice.
Dave gave a low groan, kicking at the ground and managing to roll himself over onto his back. He extricated his arms from the straps, pushing the backpack off entirely. It flumped heavily onto the ground, and he gave a long, low sigh of relief.
“Should have travelled light,” Nightshade said with a soft, smug little giggle.
“This is travelling light,” Dave complained. “If you’d take a full squad with you up here then some of the mission-vital items could be spread around to different soldiers.”
“What? And have to babysit four of you useless lumps?” Nightshade jabbed.
Dave’s eyes narrowed, and he shook his head slowly. “Babysitting, right. I’ll remember that.”
“I’ll remind you intermittently,” Nightshade said with a wicked smile, returning to her watching of the valley.
“So, what are we looking for?” Dave asked, unslinging his rifle and placing it aside. He pulled his backpack in front of himself, resting his rifle and arms on it for support, and then pulling out his observation scope, looking through it, watching the valley. It was a marksmans scope, made for overwatch. A powerful leupold viewing device that made what the batpony had look like a kid with a magnifying glass.
“That house down there is a suspected meeting point of some of the shadier characters that might have taken your crates of medicine,” Nightshade said, pointing with a hoof towards the other side of the valley, where a small cottage sat nestled behind a stand of trees.
Dave nodded, peering through his observation scope at the cottage.
“Just out of curiosity, how wide are those windows, usually?” Dave asked.
Nightshade blinked once. “On a cottage? Probably... five or five and a half feet across, why?”
Dave hummed thoughtfully to himself, steadying his scope and then pulling out a notepad and a pencil, jotting down some figures.
“What are you doing?” Nightshade asked, perplexed, staring at the piece of paper.
“Figuring out how far it is to the cottage,” Dave responded.
“And how far is it then?” Nightshade asked smugly. “Your fancy human equipment doesn’t work here.”
“One thousand two hundred metres,” Dave said confidently.
Nightshade blinked once, frowning deeply. “What? How could you possibly know that?”
“Mil-dots,” Dave said, tapping the top of his scope with a finger.
“Mil… dots?” Nightshade asked, confused.
“Look,” Dave said, offering the scope to her.
The batpony gave him a dubious stare, before leaning over closer to him.
Dave leaned in as well, until they were almost cheek-to-cheek. “Look through the scope, and angle it until the centre of the scope, the crosshairs, are right on the edge of the window.”
“I know how crosshairs work!” Nightshade hissed.
Dave rolled his eyes. “Now, how many dots is the window wide?”
“One,” Nightshade said confidently.
“Be more specific, it has to be accurate,” Dave chided.
“Well if you want to be really specific, maybe one and a quarter,” Nightshade conceded.
“See, that’s what I thought too. And you told me the window was five and a half feet wide. Which is a metre and a half. So, that’s how I can calculate how far it is to the window,” Dave explained simply.
Nightshade tilted slightly to stare at him, blinking once. “What?”
“Well, the mil-dots are military spec, American military, actually. Six-thousand four-hundred in a circle,” Dave said with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Well, the actual number is six-thousand one-hundred and seventy-five. But we round up to the four-hundred to make it easier for the maths.”
“How can that possibly help you though?” Nightshade asked, mystified.
“Because it’s basic trigonometry,” Dave explained, making a motion with his finger in the air. “If you know the angle and length of two of the sides, then you can use those to extrapolate using the pythagorean theorem to find the length of the other sides.”
“That meant nothing to me,” Nightshade said bluntly.
“Nothing to me, either. They just taught me the maths,” Dave said, showing her the piece of paper. “Width of target multiplied by a thousand, divided by how many mil-dots it is across or up. And that’s the distance in metres to the target.”
“You… you weaponized maths?” Nightshade asked quietly.
“Well I can’t kill someone with it,” Dave said with a faint laugh. “But I can estimate the distance to a target using mil-dots, yes. And that helps with firing bullets at them.”
“That’s… terrifying,” Nightshade said, gingerly pushing the scope towards him, staring at him with a newfound respect. “And they taught you all of this?”
“Sure did,” Dave said happily, taking the scope back and staring at the house through it.
“The last two soldiers I went on a stake-out with could barely tie their own shoes,” Nightshade admitted with a deep frown. “I thought you’d be… well, more of the same.”
“Hey, don’t judge me on my ability to use maths and mil-dots. I’m just as dumb as the rest of them underneath my math-sy exterior,” Dave said proudly. “Failed both my sniper-exams with the same mistake, if it makes you feel any better.”
Nightshade frowned slightly at that, shaking her head slightly. “Still. I get the feeling you’re a little smarter than the usual idiots I end up with.”
“Movement,” Dave said quietly.
Nightshade snorted once, one of her forelegs kicking at the air in a spasm. It was after dark, and the batpony had fallen asleep several hours before.
Dave reached over with his free hand, resting it on her side. The soft, slim batpony was actually very soft, with pliable, stretchy fur, much like a felines. He shook her gently. “Hey, hey, wake up.”
Nightshade jerked awake, giving a faint yawn and then rolling over onto her stomach, blinking rapidly to wake up faster. “What did I miss?”
“Somebody is moving down there,” Dave said, motioning with his chin towards the cottage.
Nightshade snatched up her looking glass, staring into it intently. “Gah, it’s too dark!”
“Try mine,” Dave said, offering her his scope.
Nightshade carefully pushed up against his side, almost resting her chin on his shoulder to peer through the scope and at the cottage. Dave was very aware of her body pressed along his own, right down to the hard edges of her armor digging into his thigh.
“It’s bright,” Nightshade said with a blink.
“You’ve never looked through one of these scopes at night?” Dave asked bluntly.
“The other soldiers were kinda… possessive of their toys. Like they were intending to bed them,” Nightshade said distastefully.
“Well, it’s a starlight scope. They used them back in vietnam. We’d have fancy night-vision-goggles if that shit worked over here,” Dave said with a sad shrug of his shoulders. “Some of the thermal visioning equipment is nice. Hell, even a good set of rangefinders.”
“Quit ya bitching,” Nightshade said quietly, peering intently through the scope. “I recognize one of the ponies. Razor Edge. He’s a real nasty character.”
“Was the name not a clue?” Dave asked blankly. “I wouldn’t tr—”
Nightshade cut him off with a hoof against his mouth. “I said to be quiet.”
The batpony stared intently through the scope for several more minutes, watching like a hawk. After almost ten minutes of ringing silence, she started to shiver in the cool breeze wafting over the mountains. After fifteen minutes, her teeth were chattering, and she was no longer able to hold the scope steady.
“Ugh, where’s a stand for this thing?” she asked with a huff, pushing it back towards Dave.
“They don’t have a bipod scopes,” Dave said with a shrug. “That’s kinda stupid. They only put bipods on designated marksmen weaponry.”
“Ugh, just call it a rifle,” Nightshade said, pushing his shoulder with a hoof. “I don’t know, nor do I care what a designated marksman rifle is and it’s useles information cluttering up my brain that I could be spending on something far more interesting.”
“So don’t tell you about the picatinny rail, the Steiner scope, the F88S-A2 Austeyr firing a five-point-five-six cartridge at a muzzle velocity of nine-hundred and thirty metres a second at six-hundred and eight rounds a minute from a five-hundred and eight millimetre barrel. None of that shit, right?”
Nightshade stared at him for several long, long seconds. “I think I’m going to stab you.”
Barely half an hour later, and the batpony was shivering almost violently, her wings twitching slightly and quivering with each spasm of her body.
Dave frowned deeply, reaching over to open up his backpack, pulling out a thermal blanket.
Nightshade glowered at him in the gloom.
Dave raised a brow in her direction, spreading the blanket with a flick of his hand, covering himself with it and then lifting an edge for her to crawl under. “Should have come prepared, shouldn’t you? ‘Traveling light’, was it?”
Nightshade scowled at him, grinding her teeth, but accepting the offer of the lifted blanket, pushing herself in underneath it and curling up against his side for warmth. She reached up to her chest, undoing the chestpiece. With the chestpiece undone, she just slipped it up and rested it in front of herself, resting her head in it like a weird kind of pillow. The padding on the inside looked quite soft.
“So, what was this about ‘Babysi—” Dave paused, eyes bugging as he felt something very sharp and quite hard suddenly pushed threatening against his crotch.
Nightshade peered up at him, expressionless. “What was that you were about to say?”
“I-I was just going to say I could open my jacket if you wanted to be warmer,” Dave managed to squeak.
The pressure went away, and Nightshade gave a thoughtful hum, and then nodded. “I’d like that.”
Dave reached up to his throat, starting to undo his fatigues, opening his jacket up. Immediately, Nightshade pushed up against his chest, resting with her back against his chest and stomach so that the jacket could cover her wings and sides. He was struck with how warm the batpony was. Under the chilled fur, she was almost hot. And unbelievably soft.
Resting one arm over the batpony to keep her warm, Dave adjusted his scope, and then rested his cheek on the crook of his arm, watching the cottage as figures moved in front of the windows, blocking out the candlelight.
“Wake me up if anypony else shows up,” Nightshade ordered, muffled by blankets and jacket.
“So, tell me about this ‘Icarus’ incident,” Dave said quietly, watching through his spotter’s scope at the farm house. An army green blanket was pulled up over his head and covered most of the spotter’s scope, warding off the thin drizzle of rain that splattered across his form.
Nightshade was curled up, a hot lump against his chest, her nose poking out from under the blanket so she could breath in the exceptionally cold morning air.
“What do you want to know? I only have second-hoof accounts,” Nightshade admitted, her voice muffled by the blanket.
“How Celestia managed to get to Earth without our politicians screwing it up?” Dave asked, keeping his voice at a low whisper to observe noise discipline.
“Well… Honestly? She basically teleported into a NATO conference, told them that she was going to do this thing, and then invited them to attempt to stop her,” Nightshade said with a soft giggle.
“That seems… unwise. Not in the least because NATO holds about as much power as a fax machine these days,” Dave said with a derisive snort.
Nightshade shrugged, and Dave felt the motion against his chest. “She approached a meeting of many of the world’s powers. It was either that or antagonize the leader of the country she was going to invade.”
“So… they stole a pony, and Celestia herself went and got her back? Isn’t that a bit extreme?” Dave asked simply.
Nightshade nodded. “Perhaps. But Celestia is very hooves-on. I’m sure her personal human advisor has discovered that by now,” the batpony said with a secretive little giggle.
Dave pondered on that for a moment. “What do you mean by that?”
“I’m sure you’ll get it eventually,” Nightshade responded.
“So… Why Australia?”
“Why not the middle of the ocean? After all, Sol is more water than land mass,” Nightshade quipped.
“Been reading up, have you?” Dave accused.
“Something like that,” Nightshade admitted with a soft giggle. “And I know why it was Australia. Most of the senior guard on both sides know about the second portal…”
“Second portal?” Dave asked, stiffening slightly. “Why is there a second portal?”
“Well… first portal, really. It was the precursor,” Nightshade admitted. “I’m not supposed to tell anypony about it.”
“I’m not a pony,” Dave pointed out.
“I realise this. Kind of a scummy way to get around a gag order, isn’t it?”
“Well?”
“Well, do you promise not to tell anypony, or anyone, if I sate your curiosity?” Nightshade asked carefully.
“I will not tell a living creature,” Dave promised.
Nightshade poked him.
“Or any recording device,” Dave added.
“Good boy. The way it was explained to me is that a certain pony made a portal when trying to increase her closet space. I won’t tell you which pony, or even where on Equestria they are at the moment,” Nightshade explained simply.
“But why Australia, then? Why not the US? It’s the current world superpower,” Dave said blankly. “Australia doesn’t make sense.”
“Because it’s a multiverse,” Nightshade explained patiently. “She was trying to create a portal to someone else on Equestria, but ended up making a portal right back to the closet. But magic doesn’t work like that. Making a portal to itself is like…”
“Dividing by zero?” Dave offered.
“Exactly!” Nightshade said, nodding earnestly. “Like dividing by zero, it makes no sense. So it went to the same cupboard, but ended up in another dimension entirely.”
“That’s bizarre,” Dave said simply.
“Well, it happened. No matter how strange it is, it’s fact,” Nightshade explained with a shake of her head.
“But why Australia, again?”
“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Nightshade asked, exasperated.
“Yes,” Dave responded bluntly.
“It went to the alternate-dimension version of the cupboard, which so happened to be in Australia for whatever reason,” Nightshade explained, growing impatient.
“So that’s why the day and night are so inverted on coming through the portal, and why Equestria seems much more like America than Australia?”
“Exactly! Your America is a transdimensional allegory of Equestria… if you didn’t have magic and didn’t have a goddess and had a bunch of old dinosaurs running the country and making the rules.”
“Succinct” Dave said drily.
“I aim to be accurate,” Nightshade said with a giggle.
“And now, the most important question: Why didn’t you bring a damn blanket?”
“It’s not supposed to be this cold. Or raining,” Nightshade explained calmly. “It was supposed to be balmy and dry. Not a cloud in sight. Now it’s overcast and drizzling and miserable.”
Dave didn’t answer immediately. Having a batpony snuggled up against his chest wasn’t so miserable, even though his toes were getting wet and starting to grow exceptionally cold.
“Yeah, well the weather isn’t so predictable,” Dave said with a shrug. “Expect the unexpected.”
“Maybe on Earth. Here in Equestria, the weather runs on a timetable,” Nightshade explained flatly. “Which means someone paid someone in the weather service to make it miserable tonight, which in turn forces ponies to stay indoors and makes them very unlikely to observe any possible meeting.”
“Seems a stretch,” Dave said with a slight shake of his head.
“Do you like walking outside in the rain at night when it’s cold?”
“Touché. But you didn’t think you could have told me this earlier?” Dave complained.
“Nope,” Nightshade admitted flippantly. “You wouldn’t do anything with the information.”
“So what’s our next step?” Dave queried.
“We wait for sunrise, you keep watching the farmhouse, and I enjoy your body warmth,” Nightshade said simply.
“All the lights are out and everyone is asleep,” Dave complained.
“Probably. That meeting with Razor Edge was probably what we were looking for. He’s basically a mercenary at this point. Has a mean streak, likes his knives, but generally doesn’t harm any pony. So we let him roam free.”
“That seems unwise,” Dave said simply.
“Ponies have to make a living. Sometimes, they have to inconvenience other ponies to do so. So long as he doesn’t go overboard, we leave him alone.”
“We’re gonna have to agree to disagree there,” Dave said blankly. “On Earth, he’d be thrown into prison.”
“Ah, yes, throw all the criminals in one place and hope they learn their lesson,” Nightshade teased with a shake of her head. “Barbaric.”
“Well, it kinda works for us,” Dave said helplessly. “I know if all criminals had their occupation branded on their skin it’d be a lot easier to track them down.”
“What is a sword to you?” Nightshade asked suddenly.
“A weapon. Sometimes a work of art. My grandfather has a Japanese katana he took from a battlefield in the Pacific somewhere,” Dave said with a shrug. “Why?”
“A sword can mean many things. On a pony, it can mean they use the sword for good… or for evil,” Nightshade explained calmly. “Something that makes a pony a good criminal could just as easily make them an exemplary guard. But imagine for a second that you had a rifle as your cutie mark… and weren’t in the army. What would you be?”
Dave blinked once, going quiet as he thought. “Maybe a hunter?”
“You didn’t immediately think of yourself as a clocktower sniper?”
“That was a surprisingly good human analogy,” Dave said guardedly.
“We were taught about your weapons as part of our new training. How a civilian with the right training can become a monster using your weapons. But the question still stands,” Nightshade said simply. “You didn’t see yourself as a criminal immediately, did you?”
“Well, no, I’m not a criminal,” Dave said helplessly. “What are you getting at?”
“Just because a pony has a bad cutie mark doesn’t make them bad. Razor Edge’s cutie mark is a blade, surely, and his special talent is intimidation. But what makes him an excellent criminal could also make him an excellent royal guard.”
“I guess so,” Dave said with a shrug. “But it’s pretty clear he’s not doing anything legal here.”
“But he is operating within bounds of his cutie mark. Celestial Edict is that we don’t incarcerate or otherwise impede a pony if their actions do not have great negative repercussions against others.”
“That seems so bullshit,” Dave said bluntly. “Utterly bullshit.”
“A pony can no more help their cutie mark than you can help breathing. If a pony needs to steal to be whole, then we don’t stop them from stealing. We just stop them from stealing too much, and if they become a problem to themselves, we rehabilitate them,” Nightshade explained. “Our culture is very different to yours.”
“Very different,” Dave admitted, frowning slightly.
“You realise your neck is very exposed to me, right?” Nightshade asked, pushing her nose against his throat almost innocently.
“And?”
“And I’ll bite you if you don’t change your tone,” Nightshade said calmly.
“What are you, some kind of vampire?” Dave asked teasingly.
An awkward silence met his question.
“What?” Dave asked after a few moments of silence. “Are you… are you actually some kind of vampire?” he asked, fighting the urge to pull his shirt up over his throat.”
“My kind does drink blood. It’s not… needed. But we can do so. It tastes quite nice, and I’ve never tasted a human before…” Nightshade said calmly.
“I don’t know if you’re just trying to freak me out…” Dave said quietly, swallowing thickly.
Nightshade giggled innocently, dragging a lick of a hot velvet tongue against his throat. “It’s working, isn’t it?”
“Very much,” Dave admitted.
Nightshade giggled again, grazing her teeth against Dave’s neck.
Dave flinched.
“So twitchy,” Nightshade whispered, grazing the sharp points of her fangs across his throat. “It’ll be daylight soon.”
“Yeah, give it an hour or so,” Dave said with a slight nod. “What’s our exit strategy?”
“I was thinking we could stand up and walk,” Nightshade said thoughtfully. “I’ll leave a message at the waystation for somepony to tail Razor Edge.”
“We’re not going to follow him ourselves?” Dave asked blankly.
Nightshade shook her head. “No, we’re going to track down the weather pony that’s been changing the weather up, and we’re going to observe him or her and see what they’ve been up to.”
“That seems a stretch, though. I’m still not convinced anyone has even been screwing with the weather,” Dave admitted.
“Trust me,” Nightshade said confidently. “Weather is on a schedule, when that schedule isn’t kept, something is amiss.”
The soft drizzle of the early morning was a wistful memory by mid-morning. Nightshade and Dave had moved out at first light, and the sloped terrain was playing havoc with Dave as he tried to keep up with the batpony.
With her wings, Nightshade was capable of gliding down the slopes and and then coasting up the next slope partway. She was rested and fresh, waiting for him at the top of each and every crest with a faint smirk playing across her features.
“We need to stop,” Dave said, taking a long drink from his canteen, pausing at the crest of the next hill. “We haven’t eaten since we left HQ, and I don’t know about you, but humans need to eat. Three times a day, no less.”
Nightshade peered at him for a long moment, before giving a long-suffering sigh. “Fine, fine. You lasted a lot longer than the others did.”
“What?” Dave asked suddenly.
“Nothing,” Nightshade sing-songed, lazily flapping her wings to glide down the slope towards the stream nearby.
Dave sighed and followed after her.
Dave found Nightshade at a bend in the river, where it crashed down rather spectacularly over a stand of rocks, creating a small waterfall. Immediately, he dropped his pack and his rifle, dropping to his knees at the water’s edge and leaning forwards to cup some of it in his hands. He brought it up to his face, inspecting it and then sniffing at it carefully, before taking a long gulp, and then splashing the rest over his face.
Nightshade stretched idly, reaching back to undo her saddlebags while Dave started to refill his empty canteen from the river. She opened up one of her bags, pulling out a wrapped package that Dave could only assume were Equestria’s version of rations.
A muesli bar studded with dried fruits, some nuts, a wax-sealed jar with some kind of liquid inside, and a selection of dried fruit were all laid out in the package.
Dave reached into his own pack, pulling out his own ration. He had three of them stuffed in his bag, enough for three days. Unfortunately, his was the less widely used patrol MRE, rather than the ‘combat’ MRE given to soldiers operating in a group. It weighed less, but had more freeze-dried and dehydrated components. It had a very negative impact on taste.
Nightshade eyed his ration pack as he started to open it, mincing towards him, chewing idly at one of her muesli bars. “Whatcha got?”
“A bunch of pretty powder and some moderately-edible stuff mixed in,” Dave said with a shrug, flipping open the MRE. Compared to what Nightshade had, his pack was a veritable feast.
Automatically, he grabbed the two largest packets, and pushed them back into the pack.
“What was that?” Nightshade queried.
“Uhhh, you probably don’t want to know… or do you?” Dave asked thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with a thumb, wincing at the stubble that was forming. “It’s… well, beef.”
“You mean… a cow?” Nightshade asked, wrinkling her nose deeply. “That’s disgusting.”
“I take it you don’t eat meat?” Dave asked carefully.
“Don’t worry about it,” Dave said, throwing her one of the packets. “That’s tuna. It’s basically a spread by the time you get into it. All mushy and disgusting. Dig in.”
Nightshade gave the pouch an experimental prod, wincing slightly. “This is barbaric.”
“Try some,” Dave suggested with a shrug, digging around in the rest of the packets to come up with another packet, tossing it to her too. “Chilli sauce. Very tasty.”
“You humans eat the weirdest foods…” Nightshade said uncertainly, but carefully tore open the pouch of tuna.
Dave’s eyes almost watered from the smell even from where he was sitting. “Well… it smells like fish.”
“Try putting some chilli sauce on it first, it’ll mask the taste,” Dave suggested, tearing open biscuit packet and then smearing a fruit spread across it.
Nightshade carefully tore open the chilli packet, pouring some into the tuna. “Are you sure this is safe to eat? It smells… strange.”
“Never had chilli before?”
“I’ve heard it’s an ‘explosion of flavour’,” Nightshade admitted.
“Yeah, dig in,” Dave said, deadpan, picking up various parts of the MRE to stuff into his pockets for later consumption.
Nightshade carefully pulled the pouch up to her nose, taking a large mouthful of the tuna/chilli mixture and working it around on her tongue. After a few moments, she swallowed.
“It tastes funky… kinda weird. The fish is all… stale, and the chilli tastes like…”
“Tastes like?” Dave asked, a slow smile spreading across his features as the batpony opened her mouth, starting to breath hard.
“Tastes like hot sauce!” Nightshade declared suddenly, scrambling to her feet and clumsily bounding towards the river, stuffing her entire head in the water and blowing bubbles rapidly.
Dave just watched and laughed, shaking his head.
Nightshade came up with a hard gasp for air, shooting a mutinous look at him over her shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me it was hot!?”
“That’s kinda implied by the ‘chilli’ part of the title,” Dave pointed out.
“Did you really need to weaponize your food, too?” Nightshade complained, rubbing her tongue with her hoof rapidly, still breathing heavily.
“Well if I run out of ammo I can throw chilli sauce at my enemies,” Dave pointed out with a smirk. “Actually, from what I heard, there were a bunch of guys way back when that used to hollow out chicken’s eggs, fill them with chilli powder, and fling them at enemy’s faces.”
“Humans are barbaric!” Nightshade protested.
“We’re not all bad,” Dave said with a shrug, rolling his MRE back up and putting it back in his bag, opening up a candy bar to chew on in the meantime. “Now, are we staying here long enough for me to wash some of this sweat off? You’ve had me running up and down hills for hours now.”
“Very well, you may bathe,” Nightshade said with a wave of her hoof.
Dave gave a sigh of relief, unclipping his combat vest and tossing it aside, followed by his jacket and pants, stripping down to a singlet and pair of pants. He wasted no time in stepping under the waterfall, gasping aloud at the icy coldness of the water.
“Jesus fucking Christ that’s cold!” Dave complained, taking a step backwards, gritting his teeth and then stepping back under the heavy curtain of water. He fell to one knee under the weight of it, before turning around to sit on his rump so he didn’t slip and fall and do something stupid like crack his head open.
“What’s this?” Nightshade asked from behind him, motioning a hoof towards his shoulder, where a tattoo sat proud and black on the back of his shoulder. “A cutie mark?”
“Oh? This? It’s just a tattoo,” Dave said with a shrug. “Celebrated my eighteenth birthday by getting drunk and letting my mates talk me into getting a tattoo.”
“What’s it mean?” Nightshade asked curiously, tracing it with a hoof.
“Well, I was told it meant ‘prosperity’ and ‘wealth’, in chinese,” Dave said with a helpless shrug.
Nightshade raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t mean that?”
“No, actually. I found out it means ‘the sound of drums’,” Dave said with a rueful smile.
“The sound of drums?” Nightshade asked blankly. “That is such a stupid thing to have on your body.”
“Well I can have it lasered-out, but… I kinda like it. I just tell people it means something cool. Nobody I know reads Chinese, anyway,” Dave said with a shrug.
“Your body is so bizarre,” Nightshade almost whispered, circling around him, squeezing his arms and shoulders carefully. “It’s so… bulbous!”
Dave gave her a long stare. “Bulbous? Are you calling me fat?”
“No, look!” Nightshade said, squeezing his shoulder. “You have a haunch on your shoulder!”
“It’s just muscles,” Dave said with a helpless shrug, “They’re kinda round at the shoulders because we move our arms a lot further than you move your legs. Therefore, we need more muscles in the same spot to facilitate all that movement.”
“That.. makes sense,” Nightshade admitted, tracing his back with a hoof. “So alien…”
“You’re alien to me, too!” Dave protested. “You’re all sleek… and furry. And you want to drink my blood.”
“I’ve never tasted a human before,” Nightshade reminded with a wicked smile, licking her lips. “You could be delectable.”
“The last time I had a girl say that to me, required a hospital visit,” Dave said uncomfortably.
“Oh come on, not even a nibble?” Nightshade asked pouting.
Dave raised an eyebrow, before shrugging and tilting his head to the side, giving her a long stare. “Well? Go ahead then,” he said, calling her bluff.
Nightshade gave a giggle at that, sauntering towards him, her wings flaring just slightly, causing the water to cascade off them in a harsh spray. She stepped into his lap, bumping her nose against his throat. “Careful what you wish for, Mr Richards.”
Dave rolled his eyes at that, tilting slightly to watch as Nightshade rubbed her muzzle against his neck slowly, a low purr raising from her throat. “Jeeze, you are like a giant cat,” he teased, lifting a hand to touch at one of her wings curiously. “And I knew you weren’t really go—”
Dave cut off into a cry of surprise and pain as Nightshade suddenly lunged forwards and bit at his neck with a surprisingly swift motion. Her fangs sank through the thin layer of flesh easily, puncturing his skin. His eyes widened, and he stiffened under her. “What the fuck?! You fucking bit me!” he protested, trying to push her away.
Nightshade gave a low growl, surprisingly powerful hooves grasping around his shoulders to hold him firmly in place as she pushed herself entirely up against his chest, closing her lips over his throat to suckle eagerly.
Dave cringed, wincing and biting his tongue, grinding his heel into the slick rock underneath them. “Oh fuck… this hurts so much more than they make it out in the movies,” he managed to gasp, his hands lifting to squeeze around her wings on reflex, even as he felt her suckling in earnest at his neck.
After a few moments, the pain began to fade, being replaced with a strangely lulling sense of calm. His mind clouded, and he slowly relaxed. As his muscles relaxed, Nightshade’s grip loosened, and she just laid against him limply, suckling lightly at the side of his throat.
Dave became very conscious of the batpony. She weighed surprisingly little, and had the softest fur he had ever felt. It was velvet, thick, soft, and luxurious. He had never touched a panda before, but he imagined it was what a baby panda would feel like.
Warm hooves wrapped idly around his middle as the batpony suckled at his throat, a content hum rolling from her throat, vibrating against his neck.
Dave arched under her almost lazily, giving a shaky exhalation and then slowly stroking a hand down over her wings and across the line of her back, even letting his palm skim across her tail slowly.
Growling eagerly, Nightshade shifted fully into his lap, straddling him entirely, soft belly pushed against his own, wings splayed eagerly as she rested against him, suckling all the while.
Dave squeezed her sides idly, just enjoying the texture of her fur and the smooth lines of her muscles underneath. It took him several long moments to realise exactly how she was arranged on him. He blinked hazily, peering down into her lidded golden eyes, feeling a certain stirring in his blood. His breathing started to echo loudly in his head, and he squirmed under her slightly.
Nightshade felt the stirring, she had to. She was pressed right against him, seated in his lap; a front-row seat to the throb of blood that wasn’t currently filling her eager muzzle.
Dave gave a soft gasp, squeezing her hips on reflex as the batpony gave a slow grind of them across him. He could feel something utterly soft rubbing against his hardness through the fabric of his shorts.
With a soft shudder, he pushed his hands down further, cupping the batpony’s rump, squeezing idly, before pushing his fingers down further, searching.
Nightshade drew back with a gasp, panting heavily and licking her lips, leaning in to lick delicately at his throat to clean him up, quickly pushing herself to her full height so their hips were no longer touching, her cheeks burning with a faint blush. “You taste… good…” she murmured, licking her fangs delicately.
“I’m glad I taste nice,” Dave said, a little disappointed by her disengaging from him, but otherwise almost euphoric. If he could liken his frame of mind to anything, then it was the time he had tried pot with his roommates. Everything was a haze. Nothing felt particularly wrong, but there was definitely different. Some gentle pressure weighing down on his thoughts and encouraging him to feel pleased.
Nightshade reappeared in his vision, and Dave was suddenly aware that she had left. She stuffed half of a muesli bar in his mouth. “Eat that. I didn’t take much, but you seem a lilttle out of it.”
“Sir, yes, ma’am,” Dave said, sketching a lazy salute.
Nightshade took a step backwards, the faint blush still visible on her muzzle. “Get suited back up, we’re moving out.”
“You bit me,” Dave stated as he and Nightshade walked side-by-side down a path. He lifted a hand to rub at the marks on his neck. “Like, you seriously bit me. And drank my blood.”
“I recall something to that effect,” Nightshade said with a smirk.
Dave frowned to himself, scratching at the back of his neck idly. “That… well it was weird.”
“You taste pretty good,” Nightshade said with a low hum, grinning sideways at him.
Dave held up a hand, palm outwards. “I am not on the menu.”
“That’s what you think,” Nightshade said with a smirk. “I know you enjoyed that.”
“It felt weird as hell,” Dave said with a shake of his head. “Like getting a good hit of drugs while going to the dentist.”
Nightshade tilted her head, looking puzzled. “Well… I know you enjoyed it. And even if you won’t admit it, you want it to happen again.”
“Wistful thinking on your part, I think,” Dave said with a shake of his head. “I’m not a ‘blood donor’ as it were.”
“Fifty bits says I’m tasting you again before this mission is over,” Nightshade challenged.
Dave raised a brow slowly. “C’mon, that’s a little unfair. You’ll probably just jump me while I’m asleep.”
Nightshade smirked. “Well, if you’re too chicken…”
“Fine, you’re on,” Dave said with a wave of his hand. “Though I’m sleeping in my full armor from now on.”
Dave lifted his hand from the guard of his rifle, shielding his gaze from the sun and peering out across the hills towards where he could see the outline of a town in the distance. “Are we heading there?”
“Sure are,” Nightshade said simply, ambling along beside him.
“Why?” Dave queried.
“Well, I need to have a bath, for a start,” Nightshade said with a wrinkled nose. “With soap. A waterfall just doesn’t cut it.”
Dave gave the batpony and uncertain glance. “That’s… kinda off-mission.”
Nightshade perked an ear upwards in his direction, eyes narrowing slowly. “The mission is as I define it. And I define our current mission as ‘get a room at the inn and get clean and have a good night’s rest’.”
“Kinda vague, but I can work with it,” Dave said helplessly, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t have any, you know, bits, though.”
“I’ll pay for the room,” Nightshade said with a roll of her eyes, giving an exasperated sigh. “So long as you’re not scared of sleeping near me.”
Dave tapped his chest with his knuckles. “Kevlar. Blocks bullets and thick knives.”
“Fangs?” Nightshade queried innocently.
“Maybe,” Dave admitted, frowning slightly. “But I’ve got no problem sleeping in the same room as you. Kinda hard to protect you otherwise.”
“Protect me?” Nightshade asked, ears slowly perking upwards at him. “I hardly need protecting.”
“But you’re my commanding officer. It is my duty to protect you,” Dave said with a shrug.
“We’re on reconnaissance,” Nightshade said with a roll of her eyes. “Not infiltrating enemy camps. Nopony is going to attack us.”
“Expect the unexpected,” Dave replied with another shrug.
“That’s an oxymoron,” Nightshade growled, shaking her head slowly and then pointing ahead. “The inn is on the other side of town. We’ll circle around instead of parading down the main street.”
Dave felt nearly every eye in the room on him as he stood awkwardly to one side of the bottom floor of the inn. It was a standard set up of inns everywhere; bottom floor set up as a bar/diner combo and the second floor as rooms to rent.
Nightshade was talking with the innkeeper, a rather large-chested white-and-grey griffon, and discussing what rooms they could get.
Dave just stood awkwardly to the side, one palm resting on the butt of his weapon with his other crossed over it in front of himself. He had already removed the magazine and chambered round and slipped them into one of of the pouches on his vest, but there was just no real comfortable way to carry a rifle.
“We uh… want a room in one of the corners, overlooking the street,” Dave said quietly, leaning in so that Nightshade could hear him over the general hubbub of the ponies in the room.
“Corner room, please,” Nightshade said, sliding a sack of bits across the counter.
The griffon took the sack of bits, opening it up and checking the contents before sliding a heavy key across to Nightshade, with a ‘4’ engraved on it.
Nightshade took the key slipping it between her chest and the chestpiece of her armor, turning on her hooves and making a motion towards the stairs with her nose. “Upstairs, let’s go.”
Dave nodded curtly, turning and heading up the stairs to the second floor, quickly scanning around and finding nobody anywhere in the upstairs area.
Nightshade brushed past him, heading down the hallway, right to the very end. She paused in front of a door, producing the key. The key scraped in the lock, and the door opened.
“I claim the bed!” Nightshade called over her shoulder, stepping into the room.
Dave stepped in after her, coming up short with a single blink.
Nightshade was already ‘nude’. Her armor had been discarded, her saddlebags were resting at the end of the bed, and her claws were sitting crossed neatly on the covers. As Dave entered she pranced past him, heading into the bathroom and kicking the door closed.
Dave stared after her for several long moments, before blinking and shaking his head. He lifted his rifle’s sling over his head and then dropped it onto the bed, letting his shoulders slump and the heavy backpack to slip right off and onto the floor. He gave a long sigh of relief as the weight lessened, and he turned to slump on the edge of the bed, leaning down to undo his boots. The boots, bandolier, and then the vest itself were removed and placed aside.
A long sigh of relief left the human and he dropped onto his back on the bed, just staring at the ceiling and enjoying the cool breeze on his body.
After several long moments of nirvana, Dave rolled back onto his feet and picked up his rifle again, stepping over to the window and pulling the curtains aside, peering out. There was a slight overlap of the bottom floor, and so Dave couldn’t see anyone directly underneath the second floor, but he had a commanding view of the entire street outside. He pulled up a chair, placing it at the edge of the window, with the back of it resting against the lip of the window. He then placed his rifle on the chair, within easy reach and access to aim down into the street should it be needed. the magazine was pushed back into the rifle, and he checked that the safety was on before chambering a round.
Dave drew the curtains again, and then undid the heavy belt around his waist, dropping it into the pile with the rest of his stuff, kicking off his pants to leave him in just a singlet and a pair of boxer shorts.
“So many layers,” Nightshade said from the bathroom doorway. “You’ve got clothes under your clothes.”
“That’s humans for you,” Dave said with a languid stretch. “I’d be wearing briefs under all this too, if not for experience.”
“Experience?” Nightshade asked, head canting to the side.
“Chafing sucks,” Dave said with a shrug. “Especially when you have tight-fitting cloth soaked in sweat.”
Nightshade wrinkled her nose, before jerking her head back towards the shower. “You. In here. Now.”
Dave gave the batpony an uncertain look. “Why?”
“I need my wings cleaned, and I don’t have anypony else around,” Nightshade said with a shrug, jerking her head towards the shower again. “C’mon.”
Dave gave a long sigh, and then nodded slightly. “Okay, fine, I’m coming,” he said, reaching back down to pick up his belt. He extricated his sidearm from the belt, as well as the spare magazine, carrying both into the bathroom with him and placing them beside the door.
“Do you really need to be so intimate with your weapons?” Nightshade asked blankly as she pushed the door closed behind him.
Dave raised an eyebrow. “It’s a precaution. My rifle is out there. So my side arm comes in here with me. It only takes one little overlooked thing to get you killed.”
Nightshade rolled her eyes. “Like anyone is going to attack us here.”
“Well, if I behave as if we’re going to be attacked every time, then I’ll be prepared if the one-in-a-million chance of it happening, happens,” Dave said with a shrug. “You’re lucky I didn’t set up a claymore in the doorway.”
“So strict,” Nightshade said with a wrinkled nose, shaking her head and turning towards the shower. “Now, get the soap.”
Dave gave a long sigh and picked up a bar of soap, following after Nightshade.
The bathroom was roomy, but not excessively so. The shower was set to one side, with a rectangular basin to catch the runoff and direct it towards the drain. The shower itself looked almost like a fluorescent light fixture. A thin cylinder of metal was suspended on a pair of chains above the shower, with holes all along its length and a pipe feeding water to it from above.
“Never seen one of them before,” Dave said conversationally.
“Makes sure nopony hogs all the spray,” Nightshade explained with a smile, pushing the ‘hot’ tap on. Almost scalding-hot water cascaded down from the fixture, creating an even spread across the basin.
Dave cautiously inched closer. “Do you like your fur getting burned off?”
“Oh grow up, filly,” Nightshade said, rolling her eyes and stepping under the spray with a happy groan, her wings spreading slightly. “This is the perfect temperature.”
“If you want to boil a lobster, maybe,” Dave retorted, holding his hand under the spray and then wincing.
“So… are you going to get in or not? Do those things even come off or are they just part of your body?” Nightshade asked, eyeing his boxers and singlet.
“I aint taking off my pants,” Dave said guardedly, sliding his singlet off over his head and tossing it into the corner. “Don’t need you ogling my manparts and whatnot. Might take out your eye or something.”
Nightshade rolled her eyes at that. “Oh, I’m sure, I’m sure. If I don’t mistake it for an earthworm. I’ve heard stories about how unimpressive humans are.”
Dave frowned at that, snorting once. “Reverse psychology?”
“Maybe,” Nightshade said blankly, giving him an innocent smile.
“That doesn’t work on me,” Dave said with a shake of his head, gingerly slipping into the shower, wincing as the hot water contacted his flesh. “Jesus H. Christ it’s like a sauna in here!”
“Isn’t it awesome?” Nightshade asked with a grin, turning around and pushing her back towards him. “Now, shush, soldier. Your new mission is to clean my wings.”
“So you can’t even reach these things, huh?” Dave asked, lifting the bar of soap and starting to lather up the leathery wings.
Nightshade peered at him over her shoulder for a long moment. “Do my hooves look like they bend that far?”
“Not without broken bones, no,” Dave admitted thoughtfully. “I remember I used to be able to touch my fingertips together behind my back before I enlisted.”
“And after?” Nightshade asked, perking an ear upwards.
Dave shrugged, pulling her between his knees to get full access to her wings. “Put on too much muscle. Got a lot less flexible. I was kinda a runty kid.”
“Shouldn’t have sacrificed your flexibility and litheness for strength,” Nightshade chided, shaking her head.
“All soldiers have to put on muscle or just die of dehydration,” Dave said with a shrug and a laugh. “It’s natural to get more muscles when you’re doing physical exercise day in, day out.”
Dave grasped the batpony’s wings, lightly rubbing the soap over them, feeling the soft, luxurious fuzz covering them under his fingertips. He grasped both wings at once, kneading towards the base of them slowly.
“So they force you all to get muscly?” Nightshade asked in between a soft groan and shudder.
Dave shook his head. “Not exactly. It’s more the lifestyle.”
“That’s so...uniform,” Nightshade said with a wrinkled nose, leaning back into the touch at her wings, biting her bottom lip. “We have personalized programs in the guard. If you’re nimble and quick, we build to that strength instead of making everypony so… uniform.”
“But you have so many less members,” Dave pointed out, kneading at the base of the batpony’s wings slowly. He stroked the bar of soap across the expanse of one wing, and then over to the other.
“The special forces are a lot more nimble,” Dave offered with a slight shrug. “But we don’t use melee combat… or well, we didn’t. All engagements were with rifles. So being quick and nimble and good with a blade didn’t matter. Especially not with sniper rifles thrown in the mix. And tanks. And explosives… and you get the picture.”
“Make you stronger, lug around more fancy gear, blow the shit out of the enemy,” Nightshade said absent-mindedly. “It makes sense… but it destroys individuality.”
“The army is all about conformity and discipline,” Dave said with a soft chuckle and a shrug of his shoulders, lightly rubbing his palms over the velvet softness of the batpony’s wings.
“Discipline,” Nightshade mused, leaning back against him. “I was never much good at that, honestly.”
Dave shrugged again. “We had it drilled into us.”
“And what about… fraternising?” Nightshade asked with a smug little smirk.
“It’s frowned upon, but there are no ‘ground rules’ for over here because no one honestly expects humans and ponies to be screwing each other. That’s weird,” Dave said with a shake of his head.
Nightshade slowly raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t screw me?”
Dave blinked once, mouth opening to reply before he closed it, looking puzzled. “I… uh… well…”
Nightshade smirked, pushing back against him a little more firmly. “That’s definitely not a firm negative.”
“It’s not an affirmative either,” Dave responded with a frown. “You’re… well, you’re not human.”
“That didn’t seem to bother you when I was suckling at your neck,” Nightshade teased.
Dave stiffened slightly at that, giving a faint huff. “Well that was just… different. Never had my throat sucked at before.”
Nightshade gave a thoughtful sound, smirking slightly. “I know you enjoyed it… I know you’d let me do it again.”
Dave gave a faint shiver at that, shaking his head. “I think you’re overestimating your allure, little pony.”
Nightshade raised an eyebrow, turning around and then placing her hooves on his thighs for balance, leaning up until her nose was pushed against his own, “I don’t think I am.”
“You’re not sinking your fangs into me,” Dave said, deadpan.
“Even if I ask nicely?” Nightshade asked, grinning at him innocently, revealing her pointy teeth.
“Not even if you beg,” Dave said with a slow shake of his head.
Nightshade hummed thoughtfully, before a slow smirk spread across her features. “What if I made it an order.”
“That would be cheating,” Dave said, frowning deeply.
“But you’d have to follow my orders,” Nightshade half-asked, her grin growing wider, wings giving an eager little twitch.
Dave squirmed uncomfortably. “I guess so.”
“Ask me to bite you,” Nightshade purred, smirking smugly at him. “That’s an order.”
Dave gingerly placed a hand on the batpony’s neck, wincing slightly. “U-uh… bite me?”
Nightshade was no more than a blur of movement, sinking her fangs into his neck almost instantly.
Dave arched underneath her, gritting and baring his teeth at the pain of having batpony fangs pierce his flesh, his fingers digging into her scruff, one of his knees lifting and pushing against her stomach clumsily. “Holy fuck that hurts!”
“Quit your bitching,” Nightshade giggled, pushing him firmly back against the edge of the tub with a hard shove of her hooves, pushing her nose back under his chin to capture his throat between her lips, suckling heatedly at it.
Dave winced, grinding his heel into the bottom of the tub, squeezing her wings a little more firmly at the pain of the bite, before slowly starting to relax as it began to fade.
A soft murmur left the batpony, a soothing sound that might have meant to be words muffled around her mouthful of human throat.
“Jesus,” Dave murmured, wincing again. “You’re going to suck me dry at this rate.”
“It’s barely a trickle!” Nightshade scowled, pulling back long enough to nudge his chin with her nose, snorting once. “If I made the holes any bigger they wouldn’t heal quickly. Now quit being such a filly!”
Dave opened his mouth to protest, trailing off into a gasp as Nightshade resumed suckling at his neck, pushing herself into his lap eagerly. His hands automatically lifted to rest over her form, palms laying across her wings.
Nightshade growled eagerly around his throat, tongue swirling heatedly against his flesh, dragging against him in a soft lick and swirl.
Dave could feel himself getting slightly light headed, slowly relaxing under the batpony, fingers lightly squeezing her wings.
“Enjoying yourself?” Nightshade asked, smirking up at him.
Dave gave a slight shudder and a slow nod. “Mhmm… sure… yeah…”
Nightshade smirked, lapping lightly at his throat, hooves squeezing his thighs innocently. “I could do anything I want to you…”
“Probably,” Dave admitted hazily, lightly squeezing and stroking at her wings, even as the batpony went back to suckle heatedly at his throat.
Nightshade growled eagerly around his throat, suckling at his flesh in earnest, her hooves shifting down to squeeze experimentally at his hips.
Dave arched slightly under her, but otherwise didn’t protest, melting under the assault of the soft lips and tongue at his throat, staring hazily at the ceiling, unseeingly.
Smirking around her mouthful, Nightshade slipped her hoof down to push right up between his thighs, rubbing slowly at the bulge barely concealed in his boxer shorts. “Not even going to try to stop me?” she purred eagerly.
Dave gave a noncommittal sound in response, squeezing her wings a little more firmly, unconsciously spreading his knees a little further.
Nightshade gave an eager growl at that, pushing her hoof even more firmly against him, before sliding it away and smoothly pushing it down the front of his boxer shorts, to rub directly against the stiffening human cock. “Interesting…” she hissed around his neck, rubbing her hoof back and forth slowly.
Baring his teeth slightly, Dave rubbed all the more firmly at her wings, kneading and pushing at them firmly, trying his best not to grind his hips into the touch of her hoof.
Nightshade clumsily tugged his stiffened cock out of his pants, pushing it against his stomach and rubbing up and down it with the bottom of her hoof, suckling at his throat all the while, humming eagerly.
Dave bit his tongue, trying to focus through the haze clouding his mind, hands grasping the batpony’s shoulders.
“You taste delicious…” Nightshade purred, pulling back slowly, licking her lips, and then her fangs, quite deliberately, watching him intently.
“I’m glad you approve,” Dave responded absentmindedly, tilting his head down to peer at her for several long seconds. He frowned slightly, looking down further. “Why are you… what?”
“Didn’t even notice, did you?” Nightshade asked with a smirk, grinding her hoof against him a little more firmly, making him gasp and shudder at the sensation.
“Urf, don’t be so rough. I’m not a pony. You’re going to injure me,” Dave complained, shaking his head slightly to try and clear it. The intense heat of the shower wasn’t helping him think straight, either. The air itself seemed to catch in his lungs.
Nightshade smirked up at him, and then down at him, ears perking slowly. “Do you want me to… ‘take care’ of you?” she asked innocently, eyes staring up into his own with a naughty smile.
“W-what?” Dave asked, feeling his heart start to race, sure he was blushing. “I... I…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Nightshade said with a low growl, placing a hoof against his lips, before started to slowly snake down his form, dragging her hot velvety tongue against his flesh as she went. “Just don’t tell me to stop…”
Dave stared down at her perplexed, watching the batpony lick down his form, soft pink tongue glancing along his chest and stomach, and then even further downwards. His eyes widened and he jerked slightly in surprise as the heated tongue contacted his stiff length, swirling across the tip of his cock slowly.
Nightshade hummed eagerly, her hoof pushing down on his shorts, sliding the soggy clothing away from his body so she could push her tongue along the entirety of his tip, swirling slowly around and around the cap.
“Oh fuck,” Dave gasped, feeling his heart beating somewhere in his throat, his fingertips digging into the batpony’s mane.
Nightshade gave an eager growl, and opened her mouth, descending over him.
Dave barely had time to gasp in horror as he saw sharp fangs pushing down over his sensitive cock, his entire form tensing in fearful anticipation.
Soft lips and an even softer tongue consumed him, and the hot confines of the batpony’s mouth closed around him, even as Nightshade closed her lips to form a seal and then suckled gently at him. Her teeth just barely grazed against him, resting lightly on his flesh, not threateningly, but a gentle reminder of the terrible things that pleasuring muzzle could do.
“T-teeth!” Dave whimpered, hesitantly resting a hand on the back of her head, squeezing repeatedly. “C-careful!”
Nightshade pulled back with a smirk, swirling her tongue right up the length of his underside, ending with a soft lick against his tip, before grinning up at him, giggling, “So twitchy and jumpy…” she breathed, gently swirling her tongue against him. “You’ve got a batpony going down on you and all you can think about is fear of getting injured?”
“You have fangs,” Dave protested, grinding his heel into the tub again. “Those are terrif—”
Dave didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Nightshade dropped her muzzle back over him, suckling right the way to the base of his cock, effortlessly pushing his tip down the back of her throat and swallowing around him intently.
Dave’s eyes widened and he gasped helplessly, trying his best not to hump into the tight muzzle and tugging, squeezing throat.
Nightshade grinned around her mouthful, golden eyes staring up at him, gyrating her velvet tongue against the underside of his cock slowly. She slowly drew back again, lapping at his tip once or twice. “Now, Mr Richards… tell me that you like this, or I’m going to stop.”
“I-I like this!” Dave said immediately, his resolve shattered under the attention of the batpony.
Nightshade smirked up at him, giggling wickedly. “I own you,” she purred, delicately dragging her tongue against the underside of his tip. “Don’t you ever forget that, Dave…”
“I won’t,” Dave promised, panting heavily as he watched the batpony intently. “I’ll let you do the blood drinking thing on me, just… don’t leave me hanging…”
A mischievous smile flickered across Nightshade’s face, and she lightly swirled her tongue against his underside again, before grasping him with both hooves and starting to jerk him off repeatedly, squeezing and rubbing in earnest.
The batpony hummed eagerly, pushing up his form again, not even pausing in the rapid work of her hooves over his erection as she nudged up under his throat with a heated growl. “Let me know when you’re going to blow, Mr Richards…” she purred huskily, before latching back onto his throat, biting down to get back at the flow of crimson gold.
Dave gasped and arched under her, clenching his eyes closed and kicking at the tub. The sharp sting of pain passed quickly this time, chased away by the hoof on his cock. In mere moments, he was melting under the assault of her lips and tongue on his throat, feeling her suckling heatedly at him while jerking him off.
“Mnnf… Nightshade… I’m going to…” Dave gasped, feeling the hot air catching in his lungs.
“Not yet,” Nightshade hissed urgently around her mouthful, suckling at him all the more intently. Her hoof faltered on him, and she growled faintly, pushing him back against the edge of the tub even more firmly as she move to straddle him. In moments, she was seated in his lap, grinding the soft lips of the furred batpony cunt along the underside of Dave’s cock over and over again, pushing it against his stomach with her weight.
“F-fuck!” Dave hissed, arching under her and squeezing her hips, the entire length of stiffened cock jerking between them, sandwiched against their forms.
Quick as a flash, Nightshade disengaged from his throat and then shoved her muzzle down into his lap, capturing his spurting cock just after the first heavy burst of his spunk spilled out over his stomach. The second urgent volley of his mess spilled up across her tongue, splashing across the roof of her mouth and filling her muzzle with the heated mess. Burst after burst of eager human spunk sprayed into her suckling muzzle, even as she ground her soft tongue in earnest against the tip of his cock, humming eagerly.
Dave gasped heavily, jerking against her, spilling into her mouth with a low groan, a palm resting on one of her ears. “H-holy shit…” he groaned breathlessly, as the final trickle of his mess drooled from his throbbing cock.
Nightshade glowered up at him, lightly suckling at him to get the last of his mess from his softening cock, pulling back and swallowing thickly. She snorted faintly as she watched him soften, before leaning in to drag her tongue against his stomach, cleaning up the burst of mess that had spilled there.
Dave watched her listlessly, an utter mess of euphoria and clouded senses, staring down into her eyes as she idly cleaned up his mess.
Nightshade snorted faintly again, tongue swirling against his stomach, making the muscles underneath tense and quiver on reflex. Her muzzle pushed up higher, trailing over his chest, before she bit down possessively on his neck again, suckling heatedly at him. “I own you…” she growled around her mouthful dominantly. “Say it.”
“Ohrr… you own me…” Dave groaned, lightly stroking a palm against her shoulder slowly.
Nightshade straddled his lap again, seating herself firmly against him, giving a soft growl as she slowly ground her hips against him. “You owe me, Mr Richards. Especially since you selfishly made me do all of that and gave me nothing in return.”
Dave gave a noncommittal groan, resting his palm lazily against her wings, squeezing lightly at them with a faint smile. “I’ll just have to make it up to you.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Nightshade growled possessively, suckling at his throat all the more eagerly.
Dave stared at the ceiling hazily, blinking slowly. “You basically raped me.”
“I didn’t hear a whole lot of protesting,” Nightshade said, idly tracing a hoof against his chest.
At some point after the shower, they had managed to make it back to the bed, and Dave was dressed only in a pair of shorts and a bemused expression.
“That’s because you were… like… sucking on my neck,” Dave said, tilting his head slightly to stare down at her.
Nightshade raised an eyebrow slowly, one of her ears tilting forwards. “What does that have to do with anything?” she asked, a little too innocently.
Dave stared at her for several long moments.”You know as well as I do that it… it’s like, you know,” he made a motion with his chin. “Tempting?”
“I think you mean intoxicating,” Nightshade purred, leaning forwards slightly to brush the smooth front of her fangs against his neck.
A shiver passed down Dave’s form, and he lifted a hand to lightly lay over her back, resting a palm on her wings. “It feels like a drug.”
“A drug?” Nightshade queried, ears pricking up at him as her hoof continued to idly trace over his bare chest, exploring the rather alien musculature there.
“A drug,” Dave admitted, frowning slightly. “Reminds me of pot, really.”
“Pot?” Nightshade asked, perplexed. “Like… pans?”
“Marijuana,” Dave said with a soft chuckle. “Mind-altering substance. Makes you sleepy. And a whole lot of hungry.”
“That sounds… boring,” Nightshade said blankly, head canting to the left slightly.
Dave waved a hand dismissively. “It makes you happy, too. That’s why it’s so addictive.”
“And that’s what it feels like when I’m drinking on your neck?” Nightshade queried curiously, ears pricking upwards at him.
Dave nodded once. “Just about. A lot more… I dunno, intense though.”
“I’m glad you enjoy it,” Nigthshade said with a smirk, trailing a hoof innocently along his bare chest. “You… did enjoy it, right?”
“Of course I did,” Dave said, rolling his ears and resting a hand on her velvety wings.
“Then there’s no problem, is there?” Nightshade asked, arching a brow, licking her fangs quite deliberately.
Dave snorted once, squeezing her fuzzy wings. “You could, you know, ask.”
“I don’t need to ask,” Nightshade said simply. “And we both know it’s more fun if I just take what I want.”
“You’re horrible,” Dave said bluntly, trailing a finger along her spine, exploring her body. “So, what are we doing tomorrow?”
“We’re off to stalk the pegasus that was in charge of weather duty out here,” Nightshade explained, yawning and laying her chin on his shoulder, adjusting herself into a more comfortable position. “I suggest you sleep. It’ll be a big day.”
“More laying on the side of hills and watching indistinct shapes in the distance?” Dave asked blankly.
Nightshade nodded. “Basically.”
“How very fascinating,” Dave said with a slight sigh. “Why are we stalking this guy?”
“Because to change the weather, you’d have to be bribed or coerced. And we can follow that chain of coercion back to this mystery entity. I’m guessing that’s who has your NH5,” Nightshade mused.
“Why would anyone want five crates of it, anyway?” Dave asked blankly.
“It’s a needed supply for human operations,” Nightshade said, suddenly wary. “It’s as necessary as food, or water. Without it, you die in Equestria. So any invasion would need NH5 to… you know, stay alive.”
Dave gave a slight nod at that. “I guess, but… I doubt anyone is stupid enough to invade Equestria.”
“Stupid, certainly,” Nightshade said darkly.
“And all of this hinging on someone bribing a weather pegasus?” Dave asked doubtfully.
“Are you the superior here?” Nightshade asked flatly.
“Evidently not, as you keep reminding me,” Dave quipped.
Nightshade’s eyes narrowed slowly, and a low growl rose in her throat.
“Okay, okay, I’ll go along with this. But when it leads absolutely nowhere, I’ll be saying ‘I told you so’ all the way home.”
“So… why are there only two of us?” Dave asked, trying to keep his breathing steady. The sun was high overhead, and the inn they had stayed at was far behind. The morning had been entirely uneventful, with a short visit by a pegasus guard trying very hard to look inconspicuous, wearing a dark cloak that screamed ‘PLEASE DON’T LOOK AT ME’ in neon letters. He and Nightshade had exchanged a few words while her and Dave were eating breakfast, before leaving.
“You’re basically here to make sure I’m not murdered by humans,” Nightshade said smartly. “Traditionally, batponies worked alone.”
“And now you’re stuck lugging around some big dumb human with you,” Dave said with a wry smile.
Nightshade glowered at him.
“Oh come on, it’s just not common for only two soldiers to go wandering around the countryside chasing leads,” Dave explained.
“You were training to be a marksman, correct?” Nightshade asked, looking back over her shoulder with narrowed eyes.
Dave nodded. “Yep.”
“Refresh my memory again… a light reconnaissance and sniper team would consist of… how many members?” Nightshade asked, arching an eyebrow at him smugly.
“A spotter and a marksman, usually,” Dave said casually, shrugging. “But we’re not a sniper team.”
“We are recon, and we’re here to find out information and report it back. Unless we screw up majorly, there’s like, zero chance of us entering into actual combat,” Nightshade said calmly. “You’re only with me in case there’s a human around here with a gun that wants to silence my reports.”
“I feel so important,” Dave said, shaking his head.
“Shush, human. March faster! Mush! The less time we spend traipsing to the next town, the more time we can spend snuggled up in the hotel,” Nightshade said brightly, flapping her wings a little to give him a sense of urgency.
“You’re joking, right?” Dave asked automatically.
Nightshade licked her lips innocently, giving a soft giggle. “Maybe.”
“So why are we here again?” Dave asked, sitting on the rim of a brick well, rifle between his legs, with the barrel resting against his neck.
“Do all humans ask questions so incessantly?” Nightshade asked wearily.
“Only when we’re awake,” Dave replied with a helpless smile.
“We’re here because the weather pegasus lives in that hut across the valley. If anyone comes and goes down there, we’ll see them,” Nightshade explained.
Dave arched an eyebrow. “This is bonkers. Back on earth we’d just tap their phone lines, kidnap them, or watch them with a satellite.”
‘You’re in Equestria now, we do things differently,” Nightshade said sweetly.
Dave rolled his eyes. “Differently and slower.”
“I’m sorry, but if you have a way to speed this up, I’d love to hear it,” Nightshade said, batting her eyelashes at him sweetly.
Dave sighed and shook his head. “No, honestly, I don’t. I’m just having some trouble adjusting to...”
“Adjusting to…?” Nightshade asked.
“Shut up!” Dave hissed, eyes narrowing across the valley, lifting his rifle and laying it against his shoulder, staring down the sights.
“Did you just-”
“Shut up!” Dave reiterated, eyes narrowing down the albeit small magnification of the rifle sight.
Nightshade frowned deeply, her wings flaring angrily.
“There’s a human over there,” Dave murmured.
Nightshade blinked once, following his line of sight, her eyes narrowing. “Who is he?”
“I can’t read his name tag,” Dave said simply.
It took Nightshade several long seconds to realise he was being sarcastic, and she nipped his shoulder in retaliation, growling.
“He’s holding a rifle of some kind… can’t tell what it is. He’s walking beside a pegasus,” Dave said, carefully sliding off the edge of the well, staring into the scope the entire time. “He’s wearing a combat uniform… but it looks old. It’s forest camo.”
“Is it one of the original team?!” Nightshade hissed, pressing close, pushing her fuzzy cheek right up against his own in an attempt to peer down the scope. Dave pursed his lips, but allowed the batpony to stare down the scope, observing the human. “It has to be one of the first through the gate…” she almost growled. “There’s no other humans out here. And especially not armed.”
“Looked like a G3 variant of some kind,” Dave said quietly. “He’s probably Russian. Spetsnaz.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Nightshade asked, pulling back from the scope, an ear raising inquisitively.
Dave shrugged. “Well… It’s not good. Going up against special forces is never a good thing.”
“We’re not going to be going up against him,” Nightshade said, licking her lips in anticipation. “We know he’s here now. We’ll trail him back to his headquarters, and then pass that information along to the Royal Guard.”
“Wouldn’t it be more prudent to report back now before anything goes crazy?” Dave asked warily, sparing a glance for the batpony.
Nightshade shook her head. “No, we are a recon team. We’re not returning to report without at least knowing the location of his HQ. Just because we’ve seen him and can confirm he’s here, doesn’t mean we know where he’s going to go.”
“We could… no, that’s a stupid idea,” Dave said firmly.
“Split up?” Nightshade asked, arching an eyebrow at him and then rolling her eyes.
Dave nodded.
“Not a chance. It is a stupid idea. We’re tailing this guy back to his HQ, and then we’re heading home to tell our superiors where they’re operating from. They can handle bringing him in.”
“He looks unhappy,” Dave said, frowning, cheek pressed to the stock of his rifle.
The soldier was kicking rocks as he walked, rather carelessly waving his arms, gesticulating wildly to the pegasus beside him. “Who’s the pegasus?”
“I think that would be our weather pegasus,” Nightshade said, a smug smile spreading across her features. “I told you it wasn’t normal for it to rain there.”
“What do you think that daggerpony was doing at the cottage where it rained?” Dave asked blankly, keeping a close eye on the two figures in the distance.
“Who knows?” Nightshade said with a slight shrug. “That’s for Royal Intelligence to figure out. Do they tell you everything back in your world?”
Dave frowned deeply, and shook his head. “No. We get told only what we need to know to complete our duties.”
“Good, then your ‘need to know’ for now, is, we need to know where his headquarters are! I trust I don’t need to explain to you how to stalk prey?” Nightshade asked, giving him a serious stare. “Because if you’re going to screw this up, I’ll tail him myself.”
Dave stared at her sideways for a moment. “I know how to stalk and observe. I finished recon training… well, mostly.”
“And if stealth is what you screwed up, then I’d prefer you don’t screw this up,” Nightshade said bluntly.
“Why the sudden interest in my abilities?” Dave asked blankly.
“Because it’s important now,” Nightshade responded, nudging his side with her nose. “If we mess this up, we’ll have to canvass the entire countryside to find him.”
“I can stalk,” Dave said, giving her a long stare. “Honestly. I won’t screw this up.”
Nightshade frowned deeply, before sighing and nodding. “Very well. C’mon then. I suggest you try to keep up,” she said, turning on her hooves, wings giving an irritated flutter. “Because if you lag behind, I’m leaving you behind. I will not lose this quarry.”
“You’re cute when you’re focused,” Dave said with a slight smirk.
Nightshade just growled.
“Stop.”
Nightshade pause, a hoof in the air, ears perking back at him. “What?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
The human and pegasus had split up a few hours previously, and the two had, obviously, opted to continue following the human. His path lead them through a wooded valley, over what looked like a game trail.
Dave held up a hand. “Take a step backwards. Carefully.”
Nightshade frowned, eyes narrowing. “Why?”
“Take a fucking step backwards,” Dave hissed.
Nightshade snorted, but did as asked, backtracking a step.
“Look,” Dave said, pointed with a finger. A single taut line of silver was barely visible strung across the path.
“A tripwire?” Nightshade asked, rolling her eyes slightly. She effected a quiet, maiden-in-despair tone. “Oh, save me from tripping to my death!”
Dave’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he slipped his rifle back, drawing his knife. He looked to the left, and then the right, frowning slightly. “Don’t touch the fucking wire.”
Nightshade arched an eyebrow, but nodded once. “Fine.”
Dave moved to the right, watching each of his steps carefully, lightly crunching through the underbrush, following the taught wire, turning left as the wire wended around an improvised stake. “Look here,” he said, motioning with his knife.
Nightshade carefully followed after him, ears perked, bemused.
A simple wooden stake was pressed into the ground with an old, weathered clothes peg tied to it. A pair of wires snaked away through the underbrush, and the peg itself was clasped around a simple wooden stick, which was connected to the tripwire.
“What… what is that?” Nightshade asked blankly.
“That, is an improvised tripwire arming system,” Dave said calmly. He leaned forwards, picked up the lower wire, and cut it neatly with his knife, before sheathing his knife again. “There, it’s safe now.”
“Arming system?” Nightshade asked, confused.
“It’s an improvised arming system. Like.. for an explosive device,” Dave said, motioning towards the contraption. “Basically, you hit the tripwire, it pulls the stick out of the peg, the peg closes, and the two wires here,” he motioned, “that are tied to each side of the peg, they come together and send a charge down the length of the wire.” He made a motion to the bottom of the peg. “This here, this is a battery. That’s what arms it.”
“Arms what?” Nighshade responded.
Dave gingerly picked up the wire he had cut, so he could see where it led. Once he figured out which way it ran, he laid it back down, and then carefully crawled over to the arch of a tree. “Very carefully hidden,” he said, inserting his knife slowly into a patch of moss and lifting it up and away, to reveal a green, rectangular, curved object nestled in the gap between the branches. “A claymore. How quaint.”
“Claymore? Wasn’t that a sword?” Nightshade asked blankly.
Dave nodded. “It’s also an antipersonnel mine,” he said, clearing away everything from around the mine. Once he was certain there was no secondary arming system, he gingerly unscrewed a small object from the top of the mine, and then laid the object behind it. “There, it’s disarmed now.”
“I don’t see what you were worried about,” Nightshade said with a slight sniff. “None of your devices work here.”
“Explosives do,” Dave said bluntly. “Or my gun wouldn’t work. Bullets wouldn’t fire. And the arming pin on a claymore is only activated by the electric charge. The firing pin is pressure-based. Everything except that wire leading to it will work perfectly here.”
“That’s… bothersome,” Nightshade said, taking a single step backwards. “You are sure it is safe, yes?”
“I removed the firing pin,” Dave said. “You should take note of this position and have someone come by and collect this. It’s not dangerous, but it’s not… well, it’s not right to leave it laying around.”
“I will do so,” Nightshade said simply. “Thank you… I didn’t even know about… those.”
“Humans are ingenious bastards who delight in thinking up new ways to hurt and kill each other,” Dave said simply. “But… keep an eye out for any more wires. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Well you’re going to have to stop staring at my ass long enough to make sure I don’t miss any,” Nightshade said sweetly, carefully stepping around the emplaced claymore and continuing down the path, eyes carefully on the ground ahead.
Dave stared at her ass for only a few more seconds before following after her, making sure to watch for any wires as well.
“Dave!” Nightshade hissed urgently.
Dave arched an eyebrow, easing up behind the batpony.
“There,” Nightshade said, pointing with a hoof towards the path ahead.
Dave squinted down the path, searching for a wire. “I don’t see anything.”
“On the side of the path. It’s like... metal bits,” she said, pointing.
Dave followed the line of her hoof, frowning deeply as he spied a spike of metal protruding from the ground. “Well, fuck,” Dave said, chewing his bottom lip. “That’s a bouncing betty.”
“A… a what?” Nightshade asked blankly.
“It’s another trap. This one jumps in the air before it explodes. It’s not very nice,” Dave said bluntly.
“I don’t see a wire attached to it,” Nightshade said, squinting at it.
Dave nodded, slinging his weapon. “It’s probably just a pressure-release model. Pretty simple to disarm.”
“How many different kinds of explosive devices do you people have?” Nightshade asked, a faint whine audible in her tone.
“Hundreds upon hundreds,” Dave said grimly, dropping onto his hands and knees and gingerly moving towards the mine. He made sure to check each spot before placing his hand upon it, creeping towards the explosive. “I’m actually kinda worried that this asshole has proper landmines…”
“These aren’t ‘proper’ enough for you?” Nightshade asked blankly, shaking her head.
Dave made a motion with a hand. “Sort of. A ‘proper’ landmine is just a sort of thick disc, like a pie. You bury it under the dirt, where it can’t be seen, and they’re sort of impossible to spot with the naked eye.”
“That’s horrifying,” Nightshade said, taking a single step backwards.
“But they’re kind of heavy. Between the bouncing betty and the claymore, I doubt there was much room left over for carrying buriable mines,” Dave explained, drawing his knife and dropping onto his stomach next to the bouncing betty.
Dave squinted at the device, using the tip of his knife to uncover the arming set-up that was protruding slightly above the rest of the device. It was a very simple arming system, at least from the outside. It was extremely similar to the arming system used on bouncing betties in world war two.
Searching around for a moment, Dave picked up a stick and snapped it in half, before inserting the end of the stick into the safety hole beneath the prongs. “Well, it’s moderately safe now,” he said, digging his knife carefully down beside the device and beginning to lever it up out of the dirt. “These ones, just don’t step on them, and you’ll be fine.”
With a huff, he rolled over onto his butt, turning to hold out the device to Nightshade for inspection.
Nightshade was staring at him, eyes wide.
“It’s safe,” Dave said, rolling his eyes slightly. He shook it slightly. “Even if I dropped it, the stick would stop it from arming.”
The sound of a slide behind racked from somewhere behind him made Dave tense up. He closed his eyes in disgust, as a voice behind him said, in a rather smug tone:
