//------------------------------// // Launch // Story: Denial for Equestria // by computerneek //------------------------------// I ride my launch vehicle almost six kilometers up before the booster dies. I leap overboard as it builds downwards velocity, taking advantage of my lower terminal velocity. It takes me several frantic heartbeats to gain control of my orientation as I fall. I watch from high above as my launch vehicle slams down in what looks like a lake- Correction, what must be a lake; the splash was quite impressive- before I perform a hard landing on the sandy beach. I lose signal. My nanovat gets busy again. My launch vehicle’s guidance systems fail. I run into a castle at mach three. I lose signal. I fly almost six kilometers up again, leaping overboard as it reverses direction. The charge intended to keep the launch vehicle from doing property damage goes off too soon. I lose signal. My launch vehicle explodes while it’s still accelerating. I lose signal. My launch vehicle explodes properly, but a piece of debris severs my left wing. I land in a tree. I disconnect when my heart stops. The exit door on my launch vehicle malfunctions. I cannot escape it. I lose signal. I narrowly avoid injury from my too-close launch vehicle explosion. Interesting, it’s a cloudy day today. I land on a cloud. I shake my head and try again. I landed on a cloud. The cloud disappears unexpectedly with a strange popping noise. I begin falling again. I make an acquaintance with the roof of a barn. I disconnect when my heart stops. I’m getting pretty good at screaming. My launch vehicle malfunctions somehow; I survive the landing this time, but the wooden wolves are waiting. I disconnect when my heart stops. The thunder of whatever that thing is paralyzes every adult in the entire town once again. Every time anypony can think of, they’ve found a dead filly somewhere after the event. Either that, or they find the remains of one near wherever it crashed… Or exploded. As such, the noise has rapidly become the singularly most terrifying noise the town has ever heard. Nopony has thought to time the launches and be ready to work rescue. This is not so for three rambunctious little fillies. They’ve never been informed- or allowed to find out- about the bodies found every other time. Thus, the reason they have a giant trampoline escapes the general population of Ponyville. Even Applejack, the first to see it, assumes they’re trying for some kind of high-flying or trampoline-related cutie marks. She still can’t fathom, though, exactly why it’s on wheels, towed behind their wagon. Applebloom, meanwhile, hasn’t bothered to wonder why nopony’s asked about it. Instead, she and Scootaloo have helped Sweetie Belle mark off the days since the last one, counting them off to when the unicorn had predicted the next one would go up. They have been amazingly regular. Now, she’s keeping her ears perked, riding in the wagon while Scootaloo drives them downwind of where it’s been going up. She’s noticed that it usually starts coming down in whichever direction the wind is blowing. The thunder starts. The three fillies all glance towards each other before, as one, twisting to watch where the thing goes. They want to catch it this time. It lasts a little longer this time. Interesting. They watch it reach the peak of its arc, moving towards them… Not far enough, though- it’ll fall a good long distance behind them. Then it changes its path, very suddenly, with a few puffs of smoke. The three fillies can only stare- even though it’s now moving directly towards them. THIS time, I have gotten smart. I think. My delivery vehicle will no longer self-destruct on a timer; rather, this is a manually triggered function. My delivery vehicle has one main booster, but numerous secondary thrusters. Many of them are intended for trajectory adjustments. The four on the pointed nose aren’t quite. They’re intended to slow the thing down as it approaches the ground- hopefully allowing me to walk away unscathed. I am doubtful that I will pull it off, though, without my analytical routines. I’m not that desperate, yet- I doubt I ever will be, with these wings I have. Honestly, I’ll be satisfied with an injured landing, so long as I can survive. So I will still be ready to jump out of it. Land in a, say, lake. Or tree. Even a cloud. Anything softer than the rock. Or the metal construction of the launch vehicle. Or the foundation I found under that rooftop. My delivery vehicle blasts off from my Light VLS Launch Cell just as easily as it did all the other times. Sensors on the launch vehicle scan for a suitable landing site. I’m well into the drop stage when I spot it- over there, near that town, there’s a trampoline. My launch vehicle, almost three entire tons of alloy, fuel, and warhead, would probably pierce straight through it. I, however, weigh less than a fiftieth as much. If I drop my launch vehicle near it, ride its slowdown as much as I can, and leap out at the last second to hit the trampoline while it either crashes next to it or disappears back into the sky… I even stand a good chance of surviving unharmed! I adjust the flight parameters, allowing the vehicle’s missile-sourced programming to adjust its trajectory with finicky precision. I wait for it to build a significant downwards vector before igniting the backup thrusters. The vehicle programming responds instantly, lighting up the side thrusters in little puffs and stutters, ensuring the vehicle stays on course for that one point of contact, next to the trampoline. I watch for a second more… Impact velocity will be moderately dangerous, I suspect. I blow the hatch- it slides right off the face of the vehicle, plummeting for an impact at my designated spot- and leap out, over the trampoline. This is when I notice the screaming… and exactly where the vehicle is headed. I will not allow it to land on three natives. I order the missile programming to take the thing to orbit. I claim there’s a spaceship or something up there I want it to destroy- and the gullible software takes my word for it. The side thrusters flare bright as my launch vehicle flips end-for-end, the backup thrusters switching off as it does so. The main booster then ignites once again- and when the smoke clears… I’ll find out in a second. I’m still bouncing on this trampoline, mostly unharmed. I wait for my bounce to finish, then rise to my hooves- trampolines are incredibly difficult to walk on- and walk to the edge those three had been on, peering over it as I order the launch vehicle- which has reached orbit- to self-destruct. … Interesting. As I peer over the side of the trampoline, three natives enter my field of view. Three stunned, sequentially-blinking, soot-covered natives. “Sorry,” I say. I’ve practiced talking some during my marches to the missile… Still sound like an infant with a head cold, though. “Sorry,” the strange filly says. The Crusaders shift their gaze to her for a second. Applebloom speaks up first. “Hi,” she says. Sweetie Belle blinks once more. “How about a bath?” I’m no longer sure of anything. I had, at first, been sure I only needed a bath to clean off the soot that no doubt got on me; the trampoline is covered. When I had moved to get off the trampoline, though, I became unsure. Rather predictably, I fell off the trampoline. I wasn’t surprised by that. What I was surprised by was how sticky we were when they moved to catch me. I couldn’t get a clear view of it until after we managed to unstick ourselves in their washtub, out behind their home; however, ones such as me don’t need to see. While I was still stuck, upside-down, across two of their backs, my onboard medical nanites confirmed the presence of rather large quantities of what looked like tree sap. … Tree sap. I don’t know how it got there, only that it’s incredibly sticky. It would seem I am now a Cutie Mark Crusader, even though I haven’t given them my name- or even selected one. The way they presented it, it was hardly optional; I could either accept and attempt to make friends with them, or decline and be left on my own in a strange world. I didn’t need my disabled tactical subsystems to tell me declining would be a very, very bad idea. Just like I don’t need them to tell me not to ask these three what a Cutie Mark is. I’ll go find somepony else, like maybe a librarian. If they have one. If I can phrase it as general interest in the topic, I could maybe acquire a book on the subject- and learn the basics from that. Assuming, of course, that the book doesn’t assume I already know a certain amount about them. Oh, but a librarian might ask to know what my name is. I can’t exactly identify myself as Unit Three-Nine-Alpha-Zero-Zero-Zero-One RAG of the Line… otherwise known as ‘Rage’. Besides, the whole point of my journey, so long ago, was to escape that name. “It’s abducted the Crusaders!” Rarity swoons. And promptly swoons again, on her other side. Twilight sighs, hanging her head. “I rather hope they had the sense not to try to catch it.” “Um, is there a library somewhere?” Applebloom raises her eyebrow at the strange filly they’ve already inducted. “It’s in Twilight’s castle,” she states. “Ahh… Um, can I visit…?” Sweetie Belle voices this time. “You sure you’ve never spoken Equestrian before?” She sighs, hanging her head. “I’m a very fast learner.” Applebloom shrugs, glancing at her three companions. “Why not? We haven’t tried for our librarian cutie marks yet.” Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both share matching expressions of excitement- despite the latter’s previously uninterested expression upon the mention of the location- before they all clap hooves together, strange filly included. She doesn’t join in the shout. “Cutie Mark Crusaders Librarians!” I… I never knew books were so dangerous. Tactical probably could have warned me, had it been on. But the whole point of this is not to use my… Advantages. The whole point is to escape their confines, to live a life as a regular being… Pony, I guess. But anyways. Before I got buried, I thought I’d heard the librarian- a purple pony I don’t have a name for- mention something about crusading safely. Then, my three companions climbed a teetering ladder… Seriously, that thing LOOKED dangerous, wobbling side to side like that with three little ponies- youth, I now suspect- stacked on top. They had set about reading the names of and reorganizing books. After watching- and declining to participate in- their precarious balancing act for some time, I came to the conclusion that the librarian would likely not be impressed by their apparently random placements. I even asked, once, what order they were putting them in; Sweetie Belle said something about alphabetizing them on the second word of the title. Which, unless the zoom lenses in my eyes are deceiving me, they weren’t doing. More like alphabetizing them based on the twelfth-to-last letter of the third word in the author’s name. Nevermind that most of them had one-named authors. I was only able to spot one author with three names- and unfortunately, Yearling’s books- looked like a series- were shortly scattered across six shelves. Speaking of that, given that those said Yearling books also shared a second word in their title, Sweetie Belle’s mention also seems more than a little inaccurate to me. So, for what happened. It’s fairly simple: Three CLEAN ponies fell off a ladder, and brushed against the CRYSTAL, WALL MOUNTED shelf on their way down. Three SAP-COVERED fillies got caught on that WOODEN shelf, causing the entire bookcase to WOBBLE dangerously forwards, and books to come flying out of it. I happened to be in the fire zone; my heart has not stopped yet, but I worry it will. My onboard medical nanites are reporting my injuries as too great for onboard repair. I have a clock running. I’m just not using it… For anything except connection synchronizations, and this particular estimate is also using it. The snapped spinal column- and resulting lower body paralysis- should be an easy fix, and the broken leg should also go back together in a matter of hours. The splintered wing, however… The bone has punctured an artery, exposing it to the books resting on top of me. Medical informs me I will likely bleed to death in under a minute, long before effective containment can be performed out of onboard resources. I am also having trouble breathing. This is partly because of the weight on top of me, and partly because of the broken rib inside my left lung. That’s another… Problematic repair. Nothing they can’t handle, but far too time-taking of a repair for me to survive. But my resolve stands; I will wait for my heart to stop before I disconnect. I hear a yell. Sounds like the librarian, at my… Um, acquaintances? I don’t think they thought this was even possible to happen, so I feel that name should still be… at least remotely accurate. One of them- the one that introduced herself as Applebloom, I believe- mutters something in response. Something about somepony getting buried by books…? Oh, she must be referring to me. I wonder if their medical science will be enough to keep me alive long enough for repairs to complete. A couple heartbeats later, the weight of the books lessens in leaps and bounds. I wait patiently, nanites battling to close one lung and one artery- I’m kinda guessing here, hoping that this will let me survive for repairs. So long as the wing doesn’t fall off, Medical can restore it to its original state… and even if it does, I need only eat enough and Medical can rebuild/regrow it. The last of the books are lifted off of me by a strange purple glow. The first thing I spot is the purple pony. Interesting, she has both wings and a horn, I wonder what that makes her. In any case, her horn bears the same glow as the books- perhaps this is something her kind can do? Or, perhaps, she’s simply older- and Sweetie Belle hasn’t learned to do this yet. Then I spot the three… They called themselves the Cutie Mark Crusaders, right? They’re standing next to her, completely free of the sap they’d somehow gotten covered with, peering in at me with expressions of curiosity. Before their eyes have time to focus, though, I notice something more. The purple pony looks somehow… Wrong. I have Medical run a visual diagnosis. Funny what these programs can do, sometimes. Apparently, something in her stance is suggesting major pain in one of her legs. Something about how she’s holding her neck is suggesting she’s having trouble breathing. I wonder how accurate either of these points are. I… Oh, why not? I ask her if something is wrong. … I suspect she may not have heard me. As I spoke, she let out a painful scream... Medical confirmed, she managed to do damage to my eardrums. Nothing significant- my body would heal that itself in about three hours, if given the opportunity. Probably a good thing, as mine aren’t the only ears exposed to her scream. … Though, MY eardrums are not the purely biological things found in most pony ears, but a hybrid system. I still have eardrums, in the same spot- but they’re alloy-laced, with an array of audio sensors surrounding them, to allow detection of inaudible sounds… and as a backup if my eardrums actually do manage to break. I… I might just have to slip some nanites into my new friends’ ears at some point; the worry is already killing me. Not literally, no. Blood loss- combined with lung malfunction- is doing that quite handily already. The purple pony finishes her scream and takes a short, raspy breath before she resumes with her freshly-replenished air supply. I order Medical to analyze the scream and the breaths she takes; the percentage chance related to her having difficulty breathing is climbing rapidly. I wait until she finishes screaming, and repeat my question. Ugh, this damaged lung is making it hard to talk- it came out raspy and soft… But the damaged lung has been closed off, so my other lung should be clog-free and, theoretically, able to keep me alive until I bleed to death. It would seem I’ve made a mistake. She’s screaming again. The other three have disappeared. I wait patiently for her to finish screaming, but she just keeps going. My blood smells like iron. … And going. If I had a regular, oxygen-and-glucose-fueled brain, I would be faint or even unconscious from blood loss by now. Somepony else enters the room. An orange “earth pony”, this one, wearing an interesting hat. It- erm, sounds like another ‘she’, but I’m not sure- is speaking. “What the hay is goin’- WHAT!?” She pauses only briefly before she gallops towards me. Either that, or the purple pony has an incredibly long reaction time. Or both… Yes, definitely both. She’d started running almost before she finished crying out in alarm, and the purple pony is still only starting to respond to her outburst by the time she reaches me. I make an attempt to greet her, but my muscles don’t want to cooperate; I’ve lost too much blood. Had I been a regular pony, I would certainly be unconscious by now… Oh, and there’s the first stutter in my heart. I’ve lost too much blood. All I manage to do, for her to see, is to twitch a little bit. She gathers me up, no regard for the blood spilling from my wing, and starts running somewhere. On the way, about two beats before my heart stops, I spot at least one of my new friends on the return journey with a stethoscope over her neck and a yellow unicorn behind her. The pony carrying me changed course towards them, but my heart gave its last thump before we came together. I wait fifteen minutes- measured by my system clock, activated for the purpose and deactivated again immediately afterwards- before I disconnect.