//------------------------------// // Evacuation // Story: Trapped // by Gylden Glor //------------------------------// "We have to evacuate! Don't you see that!? If we just wait here, we'll be killed like sitting ducks!" "Evacuate!? With all those virals still out there!? It'll be a slaughter either way!" "And what with Peter having left, Celestia won't have any reason to send the military down here to rescue us..." "Perhaps to save us!?" "She hasn't saves us from starvation. What makes you think she'll save us from virals?" "I don't know. But we have to hope!" "There is no hope, Princess! I know you're trying to boost morale, but giving false hope is not the right way to do so! Don't you understand? We're all going to die down here!" "I beg to differ." The rather abbreviated council looks up in surprise, and I do as well. He's been gone for about five days now, and yet...here he is, in the flesh. "Peter," I state, trying to keep a royal presence about myself. "Why have you returned?" The human glances around, and nods to himself. "I'm going to lead the evacuation. I've already cleared out the worst of the virals. Now, it's just a matter of sending out small groups that I can keep safe. Celestia has transportation located just outside the entrance to the city." A stunned silence settles over the committee. I break that silence by standing, and issuing an order. "The children must be evacuated first," I declare. "There are only sixteen children remaining after the massacre." Peter nods, and immediately exits the room. I join him, and assist in corralling the children. The parents that survived thank him profusely for saving their children, and his stoic demeanor softens as he moves among them. "I will guard all of you children with my life," Peter declares once we've gathered all of them. "And I guarantee you that they will arrive safely in Canterlot." A few hushed farewells and promises are exchanged between parents and children, and then Peter turns to go, taking a select few Changeling guards with him to help keep all of them in check, bringing his group total to twenty three. I bid him good luck, and before he leaves, he pulls me aside. "Put all the Changelings into groups. There are four transports outside. I'll use the first for the kids. Put the populace in one group, the nobility and politicians in another, and then you and your mother in the last. Bring a doctor with you and your mother, so you can keep her stable." I nod, taking his advice as an order. I quickly set about getting the Changelings into groups, and then choose a select few guards to preside over each group. I select a doctor from the populace, and place him in the group that my mother and myself are in, bringing the total of that group to eight. I stand back, and quickly count the groups, including the guards. I nod to myself as I decide that the total, including the group Peter left with, adds up to forty two. A sad number of survivors, but a number nonetheless: I would rather have few than none. We dig in, and wait for Peter to return. When he does, I send the populace with him, as I want to avoid moving my mother for the longest period of time possible. As Peter leaves for the second time, I notice that his hands are glowing slightly. I pay this no mind as he continues on his way. I sigh as I sit with my mother, who has been unconscious for the past day and a half. "We're saved," I whisper to her. "We're saved, Mother." Her eyes flicker beneath her lids, but that is all. I sigh as I recline, and wait for Peter to take the next group. I awake with a start as I feel a gentle nudge. "Princess, the other transports have been loaded, and have already departed. It's your turn now." I nod, and allow the doctor to use his magic to end Mothers' artificial coma. She was placed into the coma in an attempt to force the swelling in her brain to go down. "I heard everything," Mother announces as she comes into wakefulness. I look into her eyes, and all I see is a sadness. A sadness for the ages. "Please...Go without me." "What!?" I demand, shocked. "What are you talking about, Mother!?" She hushes me, and I seat myself to listen to her explanation. "We both know that I'm dying," she whispers. "Let me die with my city." I'm about to protest, but it's then that a concussion sounds throughout the entirety of the bunker. Peter curses to himself as virals burst through the ventilation shafts. "Leave her!" Peter shouts, grasping me by the foreleg. "She'll just slow us down, we've got to get the fuck out of here right now!" About twenty virals advance towards us, and about twenty virals fall to Peter's magic. The rest stand at a distance, ready to attack yet hesitant to do so: they're intelligent beings, and they understand death all to well. They are death. As I'm about to protest, Mother closes her eyes, and her horn begins to glow. I know what she's planning, and I know that once the process is started, you can't go back on it. "I love you, Metamorpha," Mother whispers. "You'll be a brilliant Queen." Tears come to my eyes, but I force myself to run. The guards and the doctor come, as well, and the rest of our flight from the caves pass in a blur. One second I feel the must of my home weighing down upon me, and the next, I'm guarding my eyes from the blinding light, panting along with the rest of the group. "Come on, let's go!" We follow Peter into the...I don't know what it is. "It's a blimp," Peter explains, breathlessly. "Come on, come on; hurry up!" We do just that, and within a few seconds we're all on the "blimp". I seat myself, still in a haze as I count away the seconds.. About a minute later, there's a terribly loud concussion from far beneath us, and I let out breath I didn't know I was holding. "Goodbye, Mother," I whisper, pressing my head against the smooth glass of the window. I close my eyes and, finally, after hours upon hours of stress and fear and horror... I begin to cry. I feel a limb wrap around me, and I open my eyes to see that Peter is holding me in a gentle embrace. I accept the gesture, and lean against him, staring down at the smoke that marks the rubble of what was once my home...