//------------------------------// // Chapter 10: Variables // Story: The Harmony Initiative // by Madame Hellspawn //------------------------------// “That section of the hospital is—” “Moondancer and Rarity Belle of the Equestrian Bureau of Defence.” Moondancer pushed past the double doors from the reception area into the Astral Ward. The cerulean mare behind the reception desk turned and watched, through the slowly closing doors as the two mares rushed down the hall. “That’s all the clearance I need.” The halls of Lunar Memorial Hospital were quiet. Solitary gurneys lay without anyone to rest on them and those who did rest on the small hoof-ful of blood caked fabric were motionless, leaving Moondancer to assume the worst. ‘Survivors’ were still being found in the heavily affected downtown areas of the city. It pained her to have to see ponies in such a state, raising the hairs on her neck and making her stomach tighten into a knot. She praised the Royal Guard and The Harmony Initiative for being able to look at the things they did without anything more than a bite of the lip. “I suppose the morgue is full,” Rarity said somberly, holding a hoof up to her muzzle as she and Moondancer turned the corner. The deeper Moondancer and Rarity wandered into the sectioned off section of the hospital, the quieter it grew, save for the clopping of the two mares’ hooves against the white tiled floors, echoing down the dull halls like a steady drumbeat. Bodies of the recently deceased were replaced with green webbing cluttered in messy piles, spreading to the walls like a virus. Soon, Moondancer found herself walking against Rarity’s soft coat, the two trying not to get their hooves stuck on the sickly green material placed recklessly on the floor. As they rounded a corner, a tall, fair burgundy stallion stood outside of a sealed door, ordering his subordinate, who looked sick after closing the door behind himself. The taller pony’s face was wrinkled, worn from years of stress and late nights. Bags formed under his maroon eyes and he dragged a hoof across his forehead, bringing down the facemask from his broad jaw line. “Go home, Prong,” he said to the sickly green stallion. “I can handle things here. After all, you have a family to look after.” “S-sir,” Prong stammered. “If you find her...I need to know. You’ll let me know right? Even if she isn’t...there? She had a necklace. A bird charm! Please.” “Of course. Now go. You need some rest.” The green stallion nodded, hanging his head low as he trudged down the halls past Moondancer and Rarity. His superior sighed and muttered under his breath, turning his head slightly at the approach of the two mares. “Mrs. Moondancer I presume?” The stallion held a hoof up to his chest, tapping the soft, stained fabric of his lab coat. “Doctor Sharp Scalpel. Or Scalpel. Or Doctor. It doesn’t matter what you call me.” “Miss Moondancer. Equestrian Bureau of Defence.” Moondancer levitated her badge, and gestured her head towards Rarity. “Miss Belle. She’s my assistant and has my authorization to shadow us.” “Right. I didn’t think the EBD would send out ponies so fast, let alone high ranking officials such as yourself.” “The EBD prides itself in the swiftness of agent dispatch.” Moondancer said proudly. “Even so, your message to my secretary was rather cryptic. I figured that I should come here as soon as possible and assess the situation. Speaking of, do you have them ready?” “I was just about to...figure out how to put them away. You want to see them now?” Moondancer nodded. She had seen the photos of the affected areas. Ponies frozen in fear and terror as an unseen attacker cast them in the emerald webbing, surrounding them like a changeling cocoon. Seeing the formless webs in the halls before the one she stood in was just as racking as seeing the photos. She tried to mentally prepare herself to see an actual pod, even to see one cracked open and to see what secrets or lack thereof lay inside. Scalpel raised his hoof again, pulling his face mask over his muzzle. “Just a fair bit of warning. Thing smells worse than a bucket of rotten apples. Plus, I’m not really sure what you’re expecting to see. Might be disappointed.” “Then let us be disappointed,” Rarity answered. Moondancer nodded in confirmation once again. When Scalpel opened the door without a word, the stink hit her immediately. She used her magic to cover her nose as she walked forward. The room was blindingly white, save for the two-toned blue on the lower section of the walls. The lights above shone down brilliant rays comparable to the sun on the solitary pods, reflecting off the glossy, yet rough surface and off the glass of cabinets and shelves. The pod Moondancer approached was split down the middle, one hoof holding one half up while the other half lay haphazardly on the other side of the table. Despite the less-than-stellar cut down the middle, Moondancer could just barely see the look of horror frozen on the pod’s surface, like a carved statue, hollowed and sliced in two. Various articles of jewelry lay inside, corroded and warped from spheres to blobs of pearl. A locket lay inside, the exterior misshapen from whatever process went on inside the month prior. Moondancer took it in her arcane grip, the latch swinging off and opening it. The photo was faded and disturbed, eaten away at the edges. She could barely make out the pony depicted, but she would not waste time trying to figure out who the pony in the picture was, nor the pony who used to be in the sickly green pod. So far, her being here seemed to be nothing more than just a waste of time. A minor inconvenience at best and a major nuisance at worst. “What exactly were you hoping to find?” Rarity asked, holding a hoof up to her muzzle. “A body at least,” Sharp Scalpel said. Two other face masks were levitated towards the mares, one of which Moondancer put on gratefully. Still, the stench pierced through and stung her nostrils. “The families have a right to see the recently deceased. Now it seems they won’t get the chance.” “Any way to identify who was trapped in there?” “Could run a couple of tests,” Scalpel said. “Can’t really promise anything. Whatever happened to the ponies inside, there’s no trace of them besides what they were wearing at the time.” Moondancer willed herself not to gag as she stepped closer to the dissected pod. Slime dripped off the walls of the enclosed pod, reeking of rot and piercing through the arcane aura surrounding Moondancer’s muzzle and the mask underneath. No fabric from clothing and no loose strands of fur. “Why’d it take so long to get these opened up?” Moondancer asked. “Damn thing was harder than a sterile colt in a brothel. Saws hardly worked on those things.” “Interesting imagery,” Moondancer remarked. “So what did it take?” “First pod was chipped all to hell. Tried to saw our way through the damned thing. If there was someone inside, we would have heard her most likely. Second time through, we used a precision arcane cutter spell to carve our way through. Took hours, but it ensured that if anyone was inside, they wouldn’t get hurt.” Moondancer knew the process. An isolated field of superheated magic, a barrier surrounding the beam used to cut its way through a material. If the pod was skin-tight, then there was little room for error. The barrier would have to be concentrated with such precision and care as to not damage the pony inside, thin and not hot enough to burn through the shield. The hours of work required would have driven a pony mad, either through the intense magical drain of such a procedure or through the sheer possibility of making a mistake. “How many other pods did you manage to get open?” Moondancer asked. “Was there anything at all?” Scalpel gestured his head. In the far side of the room, another table was another pod opened in a rather brutish fashion, holding cracks and leaving chips and pieces on the ground around it. It was far too small to be an adult and far too empty for Moondancer’s liking. As she walked closer, a glint of liquid caught her eyes. A part of her seethed that the first pod was that of a filly or colt. The saw would have definitely cut and carved through flesh, scarring the poor soul lost inside. A part of her was also thankful that the pod was empty. Dead mares and stallions were one thing, but Moondancer would not be able to stomach a dead foal, no matter how deadpanned and stone faced she appeared. “What’s in here?” She asked, turning to Scalpel. He cocked his head and raised his brow. “The fluid. What is it?” “Don’t know.” Scalpel shrugged. “Currently having Doctor Streak examine it. Hopefully, we can pull something out of it...genetic material, something...it’d hopefully help us identify who was in the pod, may Celestia bless her soul.” Moondancer nodded solemnly, looking back down at the empty pods. They weren’t kidding when they said they found nothing in the pods. “What would be the point of causing all that chaos and destruction?” Scalpel sighed, sitting on his haunches besides a set of drawers and cabinets. “It’s called declaring war.” Moondancer said. She walked away from the pods, to Rarity, who—despite her mask and hoof against her muzzle—still wrinkled her face in disgust of the scent. “No, no, I mean, why go through the trouble of making a scene like that if they weren’t even gonna do anything with the bodies? From what it looks like, they just crashed their stuff, caused a scene and didn’t recover the material in time to keep their hostages alive, assuming that’s what they were doing.” “It’s like they wanted to keep us distracted.” Moondancer muttered. Her mind reeled at the thought. “But from what?” “Beats me ma’am,” Scalpel followed the two mares out of the room, pulling off his face mask and shutting the door. “I apologize for the lack of anything...useful. EBD asked to be updated on the matters of these pods. Of course, we’ll be sending more reports of our progress. Should I send them directly to you or to the EBD in general ma’am?” “Directly to me. Don’t worry. We’ve come at least a small step closer to understanding the attacks. We’ll be on our way now.” When the door shut behind them after leaving and Scalpel walked down the hall, avoiding gobs of green webbing, Moondancer and Rarity let out a sigh. The two mares leaned their backs against the wall and took off their face masks, throwing them down on the ground. “They aren’t going to find anything here,” Moondancer said. “No matter how many tests they run, they are just going to keep hitting blanks. I want a pod secured, ready to go to Twilight. Maybe her science team can make heads and tails of it.” Rarity bounced the curled end of her mane in the base of her hoof. “You sound so sure that they’ll make more progress, even if their technology is more advanced. I think the fact that these ponies got it open in the first place is amazing, given Canterlot Royal Hospital’s attempts. Give them some time, darling.” “Rarity, it’s been a month.” Moondancer stood, offering a hoof for Rarity, whose velveteen grip met hers. “We can’t waste anymore time here. We need to know what happened to these ponies. I need to know.” Rarity nodded, following Moondancer down the halls, the two keeping their eyes trained down on the ground. Moondancer’s mind was reeling, like there was a puzzle ahead of her, but she could not identify any of the pieces. That, and there was too many of them. The initial confusion and panic that spread throughout Equestria and the rest of the world returned back into Moondancer’s mind, planting seeds of doubt where there was normally calm and collectiveness. There has to be something we’re missing. Moondancer thought as she pushed past the doors to the reception area. Too many lives were lost just to cause the biggest distraction in Equestrian history. Causing the lives of thousands to be lost in a mere matter of hours, and then manipulating the very ponies sent to help into killing each other and those not affected by the gas the alien’s pods released. The chaos that enveloped the city in those few, excruciatingly long hours, had been the worst and most violent event in equestrian history since Luna’s Rebellion. Discord would have been proud if he were still around, of that, Moondancer was sure. A dank atmosphere permeated through the stairwell as Rarity and Moondancer climbed further up to the roof where Morning Glory awaited, alongside several police pegasi securing the roof, as per Moondancer’s request. Before opening the door, the two unicorns’ horns glowed, creating a shield over their heads and bodies, domed and clear. Rain pelted their shields as they stepped on the metal catwalk onto the carriage-pad. Morning Glory sat on the steps leading to the interior of the carriage, kicking her rear hooves like a filly sitting on a stool far too tall for her. Her small maroon frame was often overshadowed by her abnormally large wings, resting in odd angles whenever she sat, either to prevent her wings from getting dirty or just to allow herself to rest comfortably without her feathers poking into the ground. She hummed a tune, eyes closed and holding an invisible microphone close to her lips, bobbing her head from side to side. Moondancer smiled at the sound of her rough voice trying to mimic somepony as sweet as Sapphire Shores. The maroon pegasus brushed her tan mane from her eyes, long, unkempt and completely shaven on the left side. She opened her eyes, meeting Rarity’s first, then Moondancer’s before shooting up and wiping a hoof on her muzzle, trying to hide the blush setting in. “Find everything you were—” Glory recoiled and gagged. “Oh! You smell awful! The heck was in there?” “Just focus on getting us back to Canterlot in one piece,” Moondancer answered. She stepped past the police officers and into the carriage, stuffing herself in the farthest corner in the dark interior. “Try and make it quick. I need a bath as soon as possible.” “Yes ma’am.” Glory began to strap herself into the brass fixtures of the carriage after shutting the door behind Rarity, who sat across from Moondancer, face full of thought. “Something on your mind?” She asked. “I don’t know.” Moondancer watched as Manehattan shrunk beneath her, lights blurring and the city’s skyscrapers reaching out for them as Glory took them higher and higher. “It doesn’t make sense. None of this is adding up. That’s a lot of work and wasted time just to cause a distraction, assuming that’s what it was.” “A distraction from what?” Rarity tilted her head. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s something the aliens were up to that we don’t know about. Everyone was so caught up with the attacks. If I were an evil mastermind, I’d have taken full advantage of that, especially since the three most powerful beings in The Known World were busy organizing efforts to deter the chaos.” “I admit, it would be a smart thing to do, but that is far more resources lost in trying to take our eyes from whatever it is they don’t want us to see.” “From what we’ve seen, there is a lot at their disposal. Economy and resources shouldn’t be an issue.” “Whatever the case, I’ll file a report to Twilight and Princess Luna when we return. And after I bathe of course.” *** Gilda watched from the observation window, alongside Fluttershy and several security officers who surrounded the shaking pegasus. Ethan held back a chuckle as he looked away and back to the conversation at hand. The zebra continued to speak in her native tongue, causing Ethan to cock his head. When she finished Abeni nodded and gave her best grin, sheepish and nervous, eyes trying to avoid Twilight’s inquisitive stares and Doctor Sweetheart’s inattentiveness, focusing moreso on taking notes on her clipboard besides the commander’s pet dragon, also writing, although on a parchment scroll and transcribing the conversation. He scratched his head, trying to make heads and tails of what Abeni was saying. Ethan glanced over to Zecora inquisitively. “She says she is glad to see you and that miracles to you, the higher powers shall imbue.” “It’s nice to see she’s in better shape,” Ethan replied with a soft smile. She looked way better without blood in her mane and with a smile on her face, even if it was forced to some degree. Abeni turned to Zecora, speaking again. Her words came out rapidly, even causing Zecora to have to stop her and—Ethan assumed—ask her to slow things down. “She believes she is still here because she has information,” Zecora said. “She is still unsure why she is here, in a safe haven, but she assumes it is for good reason.” “I…” Abeni bit her lip. Her meek, exotic voice caught everyone, save for Zecora, by surprise. “Science project...work in home. Help?” “What kind of project?” Ethan asked. “Magic.” Abeni said simply. She turned to Zecora. “All things in the world have magical properties. It becomes a matter of unlocking these qualities.” “Wait,” Twilight put up a hoof. “She was studying magic? Like unicorn magic and the like? No offense, but what is a zebra exactly going to be able to do with that kind of knowledge. It’s not like they have the ability to manipulate the magic surrounding us the same way unicorns are able to.” “We make device,” Abeni said. She raised her hooves, motioning wildly around her head, as if putting on a crown or helmet. “Allow...magic.” “A device that allows for magic?” Twilight paused, raising a hoof to her chin, as if pondering the possibilities of what would be accomplished. Ethan had to admit that he had done the same. “Magic is...all round. Unicorn have...connection. Naturally!” Abeni’s face lit up, pointing a hoof to Twilight’s horn. “Use horn and innate. Do understand?” Twilight nodded, just barely. “Unicorns have an innate connection to the arcane, as most other ponies do. So far, unicorns and alicorns are the only species that can actively manipulate it. I’d never even think it possible for anything other than a unicorn or alicorn to actively use magic. That was really what your people were working on in that facility?” Zecora translated once again, to which Abeni nodded her head vigorously. She spoke to Zecora. “Her team had come close to their goal, but the situation had gotten out of control.” There was silence. “We were attack...Fire and...dead all ‘round…” Abeni sucked in a breath. “I take break, uh...give kids tour, make...inspire to do science. Hear yelling down hall...I try and hide kids, but it….it….” “I’m sorry,” Ethan said. He could not imagine placing himself in her position; trying to keep all those children safe from some unknown assailant. Ethan still had the operation fresh in his mind, even if it was a few weeks since then. He remembered their bodies littered on the ground like ragdolls strewn about their sleek black and white manes and coats caked with blood. Abeni must have struggled to cope with the fact that she never got to see them safely back to their homes. She must have beat herself up every moment since then. The way they huddled up and the scorch marks on their bodies burned like a mosaic in Ethan’s mind. His blood boiled at the thought of his enemies being so merciless as to kill children. In the hours it took for Fireteam Topaz to arrive, Abeni must have used everything in her body to even try and hide herself. How she survived the initial attack puzzled Ethan, but he did not want to press the issue. The pained expression on her face stressed that more than anything else. “You’re a strong mare for being able to handle yourself, even after that.” Ethan said softly. “I know it may not be much, but I’d like to think myself to be a pretty open griffon. I’m here if you need me.” “Thank you, Ethan.” Abeni bowed her head. Admittedly, it caught him off guard, her low, accented voice saying his name. “Is this why she wanted to talk to us? Tell us what she was working on before we had to come down and clear the area?” Twilight flexed her wings and brought them back in. “Not that I mind, but couldn’t she have just reported this to one of the doctors?” “Not likely,” Doctor Sweetheart answered, dropping her pencil on the table and setting her clipboard down. “She’s had some trust issues with the staff. The corporal is really one of the only few that she completely trusts, the others being Fluttershy, Zecora and myself. We haven’t gotten this much out of her since she’s arrived.” Abeni spoke up, looking at Zecora with pleading eyes. She pointed a hoof at Twilight, gesturing at her horn and speaking faster. Zecora was taken aback from Abeni’s sudden change in pitch and her frantic pace. When Abeni stopped, she smiled sheepishly, looking around the table, as though hoping for some kind of confirmation. “I must admit that I do not understand,” Zecora scratched her head. “But she has confidence in her plan. In exchange for a life back home, Abeni wishes to help in these metal catacombs.” “She wants to help?” “To finish her lifelong project, in hopes to help those who helped her, should you choose to accept.” Twilight opened her mouth, already deciding her answer. Ethan watched the alicorn’s hoof extend, immediately retracting, the moment Abeni reached her own hoof outwards. She looked up worriedly at her, as though she had done something wrong. Twilight looked to the side, a hoof held up against her ear. She whispered her answers to whatever questions came buzzing through the earpiece, sighing when the exchange finished. “Sorry to have to cut this short,” Twilight said, standing from her seat. “Duty calls. Spike, would you mind staying here? I’d like a written report of this conversation.” “Sure thing.” The dragon nodded. Abeni watched with a frown as the doors shut behind the regal alicorn, then stared back towards Ethan and Doctor Sweetheart. “Everything...okay?” She asked. “Yes,” Sweetheart answered. “Ethan, did you have any questions for her?” The griffon nodded. “I...The pods that struck the facility. I’ve heard the reports of what they did in Manehattan, and they seem pretty...thorough, for lack of a better word. Yet, the room you hid yourself in wasn’t affected. After securing you and checking the place for any survivors, there were several other rooms with unaffected bodies. Did the pods just avoid these rooms?” “Ethan, I—” Doctor Sweetheart put her pencil down again. “They put...shield,” Abeni answered. “Block...cagaaran.” Ethan raised a brow. “They?” “Weeraryahanka. Attack.” “I thought the aliens were the attackers,” Ethan shifted in his seat, edging closer. Zecora shifted as well, placing a hoof on Abeni’s back, whispering into her ear. “Why’d they shield you?” Abeni’s eyes widened. “No! No, no, no. Servant! Attack by servants!” Sweetheart paused, looking up from her clipboard. She dropped the pencil on the table. “Beg pardon? What is she talking about Zecora, a little help?” The shaman translated, Ethan listening closely and intently. The words came out as whispers, too low for Ethan to understand, not that he could anyway. Zecora pulled back, face turning grim when Abeni finished her response. The two zebras turned and faced the trio ahead of them, Abeni trembling nervously and Zecora still internalizing the information. “They were attacked by ponies.” Zecora said solemnly. *** When he opened his eyes, the nightmare which had plagued him every night was over. Dagger shuddered in his bed, clutching his throat and making sure the stitches were still there and patted his hooves against his chest, unsure if he should be grateful for still having all ribs intact. His breaths came ragged and in short bursts. This time, nopony stood over him, waiting to have him dragged out. For the first time since awaking from the nightmare that was what those around him called ‘The Manehattan Incident’ he felt safe. But he would not let himself be deluded into thinking he was truly safe from the ones trying to bring him harm. He barely escaped death once, from the hooves of his own commander and the voice which controlled and forced him to commit atrocities against his fellow guard. Dagger knew that death was close. An unspeakable force which everypony seemed to forget existed because they were so caught up with how perfect everything seemed. How perfect everything was. The door to his quarters opened. The light was blinding, peering over the black shadows standing in the doorway, staring with no mercy and no signs of sympathy. They stepped forward simultaneously, the sounds of their hooves hitting the ground like a roar of thunder each time. “N-no!” Dagger struggled to his haunches, pressing himself tightly against the walls. His voice cracked, struggling to barely make out even a whimper. He wished desperately that he could blend and meld into the wall, to escape their punishing glares. “P-please! I told you everything you wanted! Please! I-I don’t want to die!” The two unicorns remained silent, approaching like patient demons about to ready Dagger for a final trip to Tartarus. He was going to die. He was sure of it now. Their horns glowed, a crimson hue surrounding them and slowly, Dagger was dragged out of his room and blinded by darkness which enveloped his vision. A rough linen cloth of sorts he guessed. Air struggled to find their way into his lungs as he desperately thrashed with what little energy he had in him. “Enough!” One of them hissed. The magic enveloping his body tightened and his whole body erupted in pain. “You have spirit, but your work is better placed elsewhere.” The magic released Dagger, falling onto a rough metal surface with a rough thunk, ribs and hooves shooting pain all around. He winced and held back tears from the pain, glad that his captors covered his face. What little pride remained withered away as he felt the floor beneath him shift and lower. An elevator. A loud one at that, rumbling and creaking its way down to what Dagger knew to be the depths of hell. When it stopped, he was lifted again and thrown, falling down and slamming against a rocky surface, groaning and yelping in pain. Something landed beside him, blowing dust through the cracks of bag over his head. Multiple hoofsteps surrounded him, followed by multiple whispers. The bag lifted from his head and he clenched his eyes shut, whimpering and curling up. “Back to work vermin!” The steps went away and the voices ceased. Ponies everywhere, pickaxes in mouths and digging away at the rocky walls. Mares and stallions covered with dirt, grime and Celestia knows what else surrounded Dagger, paying him no mind as they stared blankly into the walls they chipped away at. Some walked around with buckets full of various chunks of rocks or gems. The cavern was endless, illuminated by occasional lampposts and lanterns. Some gems managed to illuminate the way, ponies taking whatever chunks they could, breathing heavily and stinking of sweat and exhaustion from their seemingly endless work. Some ponies were even missing limbs altogether, struggling to keep themselves balanced while they swung, swaying from their own depleted energy and vigorous actions. Others bore marks; scars from whips or scorched marks where they were branded over their flanks, taking away the one thing that made them individuals. Dagger looked up with horror as the lift used to bring him down here elevated, taking away most of the light in his immediate area, forcing his eyes to adjust to the prevailing darkness. “Get up,” A mare said, grabbing his hoof and forcing him onto his haunches. She spoke a bit of a twang to her voice, sounding dry and coarse. She scanned the stallion, looking up and down at Dagger’s pathetic form.“They don’t like when one o’ us sits around doing nothin’.” “What do they want?” The mare pointed her hoof to the pickaxe on the ground, walking over to a chiseled part of the rock face. Another dirty and dulled pickaxe lay against the surface, her hoof tapping the end of the handle. “Work.” “Who are you?” “Don’t worry none ‘bout that.” She said sternly. “Just get t’work.” She picked up the pickaxe and started swinging again sending chunks of rock flying out while also managing to keep them out of her amber eyes. Dagger looked around him, watching the ponies work in misery, before he saw the guards walking above, standing on platforms and catwalks with weapons in their magical grasp. One of them locked eyes with him, raising their weapon just barely. Dagger walked beside the mare, pickaxe in mouth and began swinging. Trying to ignore the swelling pain in his chest and hooves.