Earning Wings of a Different Nature

by Strayan Phoenix

Chapter Eight

[Unknown Time]
[Unknown Specific Location]
        
Daring Do trudged through the dense jungle at a brisk trot, silently cursing under her breath with each step. Of all the possible times she chose to go treasure hunting deep in the middle of Zebrica, she just had to chose smack-bang in the middle of the Rainy Season. Whenever it wasn’t bitterly cold and raining, it was bright, sunny, and near-boiling hot. The resultant humidity was currently making life unbearable, with the only relief coming from the broad flat leaves of the tropical trees above each providing a welcome spot of shade, helping to keep her cool under the harsh sun.

Her iconic pith hat sat snugly on her head, the brim serving to provide her eyes some relief from rain and sunlight. Her olive-green shirt clung to her fur like a wet rag, slick and sticky with a mixture of mud and river water. Several buttons were missing, and the Pegasus, who never really cared for her personal appearance even at the best of times, simply left the entire shirt unbuttoned, letting it hang limply from her shoulders. The right sleeve had been mostly torn clean off, having been repurposed as a bandage for a wound across her right wing which rendered her flightless until she could get proper medical attention. The left sleeve had been rolled up to sit just above her elbow. A well-used, brown leather satchel was tied up around her midsection, with the strap sitting just forward of her wings. Completing her rather rough-and-tumble ensemble (which would probably make a certain well-known fashionista faint with horror) was the large, dangerously-sharp Bowie knife clenched between her teeth.

Daring herself was lathered from snout to tail in a slick layer of moisture, which invited nearly all manners of dust and grim to stubbornly cling to her fur, giving her a wild, filthy appearance. Several nicks and grazes from thorns and falls peppered the length of her legs, each stinging with an irritation on the level of a paper cut. Her breathing came in heavy, ragged gasps as her lungs worked overtime to satisfy her body’s greedy energy consumption from the strenuous regime of climbing up and down hills, swimming through rivers and hurriedly trotting over long distances at a brisk canter. Her facial expression was locked into a determined scowl as she stubbornly pushed herself onwards towards her goal.

The corners of her mouth twisted upwards into a wry smile. If only Father could see her now! And to think that he thought science and archaeology were all about boring desk-jobs, droning professors and digging up old bones in the sandpit!

‘Ignorant jarhead.’

With a grunt of exertion, she leap-frogged over a fallen tree in her path. A sudden pin-prick sensation surfaced in her shoulder, and in an instant, she slapped her hoof against it. A quick glance at the bottom of her hoof confirmed that that mosquito wasn’t going to be bothering anypony anymore.
        
        A glance at the tree tops obscuring most of the direct sunlight reminded her of part of the reason why she was slogging it on hoof in the first place.

        ‘Can’t see the blasted thing if it’s underneath all this greenery.’
        
        The cheerful calls of the tropical birds in the treetops never seemed to cease, and after a while, the constant chatter was starting to become repetitive and annoying, as if the same damn bird was following her from a distance, loudly squawking incessantly just to get her attention.

The rustling of leaves off to her right caught her attention, and she snapped her entire posture around on a dime and into a combat stance, ready to face the source of the noise at the drop of a hat. After a few moments of frantic concentration, she could make out the form of a sleek black panther in amongst the bushes, with its predatory gaze set firmly on her.

“Well... crap,” she muttered.

Keeping her eye locked firmly on the big cat, she held her ground. Keeping the panther in her line of sight was the utmost important thing, no matter what. The moment she turns to run, the cat will most likely pounce and make a quick, decisive strike for her neck.

Her ears restlessly twitched, pivoting about to listen for anything potentially approaching her from behind.

A stray drop of sweat dripped down the side of her face. Audibly swallowing, she steeled her resolve and fought the rising instinct to run for the hills, forcing her expression to maintain its perpetual scowl. Her grip around the knife instinctively tightened, the weapon giving her a feeling of security and ability to protect herself. Her left, uninjured wing also flared out, in a dual-purpose of making herself look larger than normal, as well as tensing up for any sudden movement.

The panther made a low growling sound as it shuffled about to reposition, still within the relative cover of its floral camouflage. Daring warily traced the cat’s movements as it circled about amongst the undergrowth.

‘Yeah, I’m watching you, you prick, now come on! Just buzz off and leave me alone!’ Daring made an audible growling sound, ‘Don’t make me do something I don’t want to!’

The big cat seemingly didn’t respond, simply concentrating on Daring with a predatory glare and licking its lips.

Suddenly, the panther made its move, launching forward like a blur. Reflexively, she dug her hooves into the ground and twisted her head about to the left, bringing the sharp blade of the knife to bear.

With claws outstretched and jaws open wide for the kill, the panther lunged for Daring’s head. In the blink of an eye, the Pegasus dropped down slightly and tensed up her leg muscles like coils. The panther collided into the Pegasus, who dug her hooves into the ground resolutely, protecting herself from the cat’s lethal jaws with her broad pith hat, which it snatched up instead of her throat.

As the cat quickly realised it had nothing but a mouthful of fabric, Daring launched a counterattack in a hip-and-shoulder motion, ramming into the panther shoulder-first, knocking it up onto its hind legs, and driving the knife deep under the cat’s armpit.

The panther howled in agony, driving the claws at the end of its good arm into Daring’s shoulder as the Pegasus quickly pressed the advantage, releasing her grip on the knife and shoving her forehooves against the panther’s chest, toppling it over backwards. The cat’s claws however each tore a small gash as they were forcibly ripped from her skin, eliciting a pained yelp from her throat.

With the lithe agility only a big cat could possess, the panther flipped about in mid-air with the flow of the shove, landing perfectly on three feet, albeit facing away from its target.

Both Pegasus and Panther twirled around on the spot. The latter was rather clumsy on three legs, as it gingerly tried to multi-task balancing and nursing its injury. With a brief hop onto its hind legs, it lashed out again with outstretched claws just as Daring coiled up and kicked out with all the force she could muster.

The buck connected with the panther’s jaw with a solid thud, sending it head-over-feet towards a nearby tree. The panther, for its part, managed to snag its claws into Daring’s flesh again, and as it was sent flying, it dragged three long, parallel scratches across her thigh.

“Mother - !” she grimaced, swallowing down the fiery sensation building up in her leg.

Craning her neck around to get a view of her foe, she found the big cat lying in a daze at the base of the tree, trying to shake the stars from its vision.

"Are you gonna leave me alone now or what?!" She glared dangerously over her shoulder.

The panther snarled in anger, its gaze locked onto the Pegasus with a hateful glare.

Not willing for a second round, she backpedaled several paces towards the cat, stopping less than two feet away before coiling up for the knockout blow.

The second buck to the head carried a little more force than she intended, slamming the panther’s skull against the hardwood tree with a bone-shattering crunch, and it promptly slumped over onto its side, never to wake up again. A splatter of bright red blood marked where its head had been forcefully compressed against the tree.

Daring stared at the body for any movement several moments, before finally releasing the breath she had been holding all this time. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, thumping loudly with each beat, and an involuntary shiver caused her entire body to shudder as she absentmindedly shook her back legs one after the other, trying to release some tension.

“I... I can’t believe it... ” she blinked, her brain still struggling to play catch-up. “I... I think I actually killed it...!”

With wide-eyed trepidation, she shakily placed her hat back on her head and reached in under the panther’s foreleg with her snout, withdrawing the knife from under the panther’s shoulder in between her teeth. The blade had become slick with blood and clumps of fur. The cat did not stirr as she did so, and it was ominously limp.

       Glancing back across her body, she could see that the injuries the panther inflicted, while highly irritating and uncomfortable, were not immediately serious or life-threatening, and she decided that she had come this far, and it was too late to turn for home now. Simply soldiering on was her only conceivable option.

A soft mewing sound from behind her drew her attention to the bushes behind her. From within the bushes, she could make out the wide-eyed, horrified stare of two small black creatures.

Panther cubs.

“Oh piss off,” Daring grunted through the knife, visibly sagging, “Of COURSE you had a bloody family to feed! They ALWAYS do!”

The cubs rapidly glanced between their fallen mother and the big, off-yellow Pegasus that was responsible. Their comically large eyes were deadly serious with shock and despair, and Daring swore that she could see tears forming. She could feel her resolve crumble and dissipate the longer she stared at them.

“I-I’m sorry!” she quivered, “I know you were only hungry for a meal for your family, but...”

She wiped her eye with the back of her arm, unwittingly making it worse by rubbing in dirt and grit, “... Just not me, alright? I didn’t want to actually... well... I didn’t mean to...”

Alright, that was a blatant lie, and Daring knew it. Her intention was to kill, but it was either the panther, or her. Besides, with a stab-wound like that, it would be nowhere near as an effective hunter anymore, and it’d die anyway if she left it as is. It would’ve been in agony until the last breath as it slowly starved to death from a sudden severe lack of successful hunts. The cubs wouldn’t last that much longer, without their vigilant mom to protect them anymore.

        For a moment, she seriously considered simply slitting the cubs throats, and end their suffering right there. However, when she stepped forward to do the deed, the cubs huddled up in fright, frozen with sheer terror.

Her eye twitched, and the last of her resolve shattered like glass. So, with a heavy sense of guilt hanging over her head and ignoring the agony across her body, she jabbed the bloodied knife into the nearest tree before she turned and bolted into the undergrowth.

[0826 Hours, 13th May 2020]
[Brisbane’s Operations Room]
        
        The Ops Room was bustling with activity as usual, as Brisbane cautiously settled down to a more calm and collected state, after yesterday’s events. Several Petty Officers were barking amongst each other whilst monitoring a routine fire drill in the Officer’s Wardroom.
        
        Captain Stevenson sat in The Chair, as he simply liked to call it, passively observing the goings-on around him. The Chair was his chair and his chair only, reserved for the ship’s Commanding Officer for whenever he was in the room.
        
        “Skipper!” a voice from off to the side spoke up, “we’ve got two messages for you!”
        
He blinked and turned about. “Huh? Whatta they say?”

“Dunno about the first one, it’s labelled for your eyes only; but the second one is from our Naval Stores supplier, saying that they’re en-route and estimates the rendezvous with us to be at around Fifteen Hundred Hours tomorrow to air-drop the supplies,” the sailor replied.

“Forward ‘em to my laptop,” the Skipper waved a hand dismissively, “I’ll have a look at ‘em later.”

“Sir, the first one is also labelled as ‘Urgent’,” the sailor added.

“Ugh, of course it is,” the Skipper huffed and shook his head in exasperation. He stood up and turned to XO Cruze, who was standing behind a sailor at a Weather Radar station. “Bridge is yours Commander, while I go sort this out. Don’t go losing any more of our crewmembers to pirates this time, will you?”

“No sir, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Cruze nodded with a sheepish smile.

The Skipper made a satisfied nod in return and briskly marched out of the Ops Room, muttering under his breath. “I really should’ve gone for that Double-Shot Expresso this morning...”

Quickly making his way to his office, Stevenson flipped open his laptop and settled down into his chair, clicking open the message marked ‘Urgent’.

“Whadda these guys want this time, eh? ‘Dear Captain Stevenson, yadda-yadda-yadda, blah-blah-blah...’”

“...”
        
“Oh."

The Skipper blinked incredulously, “Shef’s not going to be too impressed by that, I don’t think...”

[Brisbane’s Medical Bay]
        
Nurse Harris glanced from the clipboard in her hand to the sleeping Pegasus nestled up on the bunk. At some point during the night, Daring Do had shifted about from sleeping on her back, to a curled-up position on her stomach, nestling her snout into the pillow.

Earlier that morning, Harris had turned on a small portable heater, keeping the Med Bay to a reasonably warm temperature, and Daring had unconsciously kicked off her blanket, which was now clumped up at the end of the bunk.

The lack of a blanket revealed that the entirety of her left thigh was heavily strapped up in a mixture of white bandages and beige sports tape, much like her shoulder, limiting its range of movement. These served the dual purpose of helping to prevent her from accidentally tearing out the stitches underneath in any way, as well as providing support for her strained and damaged muscles.

Daring’s wings had been cleaned and preened back as close to pristine condition as possible under the circumstances, and Harris smiled in prideful satisfaction at her handiwork. Each wing had taken her around forty minutes to complete, having started shortly after the Medical Team had finished stitching and bandaging her wounds, and completed around ten minutes before Daring first regained consciousness last night.
        
Daring audibly groaned as she shifted about. The several painful discomforts across her wings, shoulder and hip continued to aggravate her, and finding a comfortable position that could ease pressure on her injuries was a difficult task. Upon opening her eyes, she glanced around the room, seemingly puzzled as to where her blanket had gone, craning her neck around to get a view behind her, being careful not to irritate her shoulder in the process.

“... the hell did it get down there?” she murmured with a frown upon sight of the clump of cotton at the end of the bunk.

Her movements were slow and deliberate as she gingerly shuffled about to turn around to face the end of the bunk, making soft grunting noises under her breath with each exertion.

It was a painstaking process as she reached over and grabbed a portion of the blanket in between her teeth and dragged it back across her prone form. The bunk wasn’t the most comfortable thing to sleep on, no navy beds were, but it would do for now, as she snuggled up into the solitary warm patch created by her own body heat throughout the night.

She was content to just lie there and sleep all day, if it weren’t for the fact that the pain was niggling away at her mind like an annoying fly, preventing such a merciful act from occurring.

“Morning Shef,” Harris smiled, “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Hey. Might need Panadol and some morphine over here,” Daring replied groggily.

All of the stress from the events of yesterday was still present, and her brain was slow to warm up into full consciousness.
        
        She frowned in concentration as she recalled the events of the strange dream she was having, shortly before waking up.

        The image of the panther-blood splattered haphazardly against the tree stuck out in her mind, alongside the terrified expressions on the faces of the two little kittens, orphaned and without a mother to feed them.
        
        To them, she must’ve looked like the Apocalypse all warmed up and ready to go, what with her scrappy, gritty appearance, and the bloody knife dangling from her mouth. She must’ve looked every bit of a monster to haunt their nightmares for the last precious few hours they had to live.
        
        ‘My God, I can’t believe I actually did that...’ she stared off vacantly into space, ‘Taking down a panther with my bare hooves! Who woulda thought...?’
        
        She sighed in annoyance at the sling holding her arm in place.
        
        ‘And now look at me. Still getting into do-or-die situations, with a disfigured shoulder blade for my troubles, which is possibly going to be like that for the rest of my life.’ She thought irritably, ‘Nothing’s really changed there.’
        
        The dream was extraordinarily vivid, and she could almost feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins, and her heart thumping in her chest. It was very similar to the feeling she had as the Chief pointed the gun at her, ready to end her existence for good.
        
        The sensation of teetering on the brink of death, and the ultra-tense excitement and action. She had never felt so alive in her life. A shiver of giddiness ran up her spine, causing her fur to briefly stand on end.
        
        An image flashed through her mind of the Pirates with their guns all pointed at her face, and how they could have very easily pulled the trigger and ended her right there. And yet, for some reason, they didn’t.
        
        Even when she initiated the fightback, their first response was to kick her down, rather than shoot her. The only Pirate who genuinely attempted to kill her was the Chief, but because of his piss-poor accuracy, none of her wounds were immediately lethal.
        
        ‘Perhaps he got his gun-handling certificate from the Stormtroopers’ Academy of Marksmanship,’ Her mouth curled up into a wry grin.
        
        She visualised another image, this time of the hostages standing around in the hangar, chatting with members of the Clearance Divers. The relief etched into their faces that they had been rescued from a potentially life-shattering situation.
        
        Was it worth it in the long run? Putting her life on the line just to save twelve complete strangers?
        
        Probably.
        
        Would she do it again if put through the exact same scenario again?
        
        Without a shadow of a doubt.

They were only out there on an innocent fishing trip. They didn’t deserve to have their fortunes flipped and dumped on their heads like that. It just wasn’t fair.
        
        Perhaps the final part of the transformation had been completed, and she was now even thinking like Daring Do. Mark Sheffield probably wouldn’t have been able to come up with such a hair-brained scheme like that whilst under the lingering threat of certain death, and then actually expect it to work. She had fully acknowledged to herself that this transformation had indeed brought on several psychological changes, some of them more handy than others, and if she were to be honest with herself, she kinda liked Daring Do better than Mark Sheffield.
        
She glanced back over her right shoulder at the Cutie Mark on her un-bandaged right thigh.
        
Chris had once mentioned that Cutie Marks represented more than just a pony’s profession. It symbolised who they were as a character, and it could often be interpreted as representing a major characteristic of their personality.
        
        ‘What does a compass do?’ She mentally started brainstorming, rubbing her chin with a hoof, ‘A compass is there to help a person know they’re going in the right direction. What could that have to do with staying cool under the pump?’
        
        ‘Maybe... it’s the ability to stay straight and true, despite the outside pressure? No... that doesn’t sound right...’ 
        
‘The ability... to point other people along the right path? Am I like... a beacon to inspire others to stay true to themselves and follow their dreams? No, that sounds a little corny...’

‘... Or it could be all of those things, I dunno. It’d be sweet if there really was some kind of hidden meaning, beyond me being good at exploration and finding treasure.’
        
        ‘Or maybe there might be no hidden meaning at all, and I’m wasting my energy and brainpower trying to interpret something that is as plain as... well, as plain as the Cutie Mark on my arse.’
        
        From her peripheral vision, she noticed her wings were looking much cleaner and more presentable than they were yesterday.
        
        ‘Harris must’ve cleaned me up last night. Strange... I didn’t know she knew her way around cleaning up feathers...’
        
She sighed loudly. Lying here doing nothing because of injuries was becoming boring very quickly. She had a feeling that she’d end up thinking herself to death at this rate.

‘What’s something that MLP ponies seem to like doing for entertainment, that doesn’t involve getting into absurd situations?’ she wondered.

Ironically, an image of a scene from a Pinkie Pie-oriented episode sprung to mind. Specifically the ‘Smile Smile Smile!’ song.

‘Ah, of course. Music. Ponies seem to like their musical numbers.’

‘... Hell, I used one as a distraction tactic myself. Pity there wasn’t any background music to just pop up out of the blue to go with it.’
 
‘Not that that can’t be rectified for future scenarios.’

“Harris, could you please pass me my iPod?” she turned and asked politely, glancing over her shoulder.

“Uh, sure. Where’d ya put it?” Harris stood up with a nod.

“I think I left it on my bunk in my cabin shortly before I left for yesterday’s sortie,” Daring replied in a murmur, bringing a hoof to her chin, “That’s the last place I remember seeing it.”

“Sure, I’ll be back in a tic,” Harris stepped outside the Med Bay, closing the door behind her.

The Pegasus sighed loudly, glancing around the room. From where her bunk was positioned, against the centre of the back wall, she could see pretty much everything with just a turn of her head.

Harris had left her small laptop open at her workstation, and the screen was filled with medical jargon in tiny writing that Daring couldn’t even begin to decipher. She had a feeling that it was all about her, though.
        
        Several other bunks lined the wall next to Harris’ work desk, empty and disused.
        
There was little else of any interest in the Med Bay, without even a fancy medical poster adorning the wall to look at.

Eventually, Harris returned and placed Daring’s iPod in her lap.

“Sorry, there was a slight delay. I had to ask Martin to go in and actually get it, since women aren’t allowed in the men’s cabins,” she remarked off-handedly.

“Thank you very much,” the Pegasus nodded politely as she fiddled the earbuds into her ears.
        
        ‘Wait... women aren’t allowed in the men’s cabins...’ Daring’s smile faltered, ‘What about me? Since I’m female now, does that mean I have to change cabins?’
        
        “Something on your mind, Shef?” Harris asked, snapping the Pegasus’ train of thought. “You look like you’re worried about something.”
        
        “Huh? Oh. I was just thinking that, since I’m a female now, do I have to change cabins now?” she explained.
        
        “... Probably,” Harris shrugged, after some thought, “You’ll have to ask the Skipper about that.”
        
        There was a moment of silence as Daring flippantly flicked through her iPod’s playlist.
        
“Switching to another topic, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Daring murmured aloud, “I was wondering... how do you know how to preen wings and stuff?”

“Oh, you noticed that, did you? My old man works as an ornithologist at Australia Zoo,” Harris replied with a beaming smile, “I grew up on the Gold Coast you see, and most of my pocket money as a kid stemmed from helping him out with the animals during my spare time. Keeping the birds healthy and clean whenever they were sick was just one of my tasks.”

“Righto.”

“He was my inspiration to enter the medical field in fact” Harris explained, “Joining the Navy was my own decision, because I wanted to get out, travel and see the world.”

“Fair enough,” Daring shrugged.

She exhaled softly, grateful that the touch-sensitive slider recognised hooves. Upon selecting a song, she shuffled about slightly to find a more comfortable sitting position.

Harris turned about slightly in curiosity as Daring started singing softly in a barely audible voice to the song she had selected.

“I left my heart to the sappers ‘round Khe Sanh,
And I sold my soul with my cigarettes
to the black market man.
I’ve had to Vietnam cold-turkey
from the ocean to the silver city,
and its only other vets could understand.

“About the long-forgotten dockside guarantees,
there were no V-Day heroes
in nineteen seventy-three. 
And how we sailed into Sydney Harbour,
I saw an old friend, but I couldn’t kiss her.
She was lined and I was home to Lucky Land.”
        
        “I didn’t know Shef could sing,” Harris whispered under her breath. She turned her chair around completely, listening carefully to Daring’s little performance.
        
        “She was like so many more from that time on.
Their lives were all so empty
until they found their chosen one.
Their legs were often open,
but their minds were always closed,
and their hearts were held in fast suburban chains."

“And the legal pads were yellow,
hours long, pay packets lean.
The telex writers clatter
where the gunships once had been.
An’ carparks make me jumpy,
and I’ve never stopped the dreams,
or the growing need for speed and novacaine.”

“So I worked across the country from end to end,
and tried to find a place to settle down
where my mixed-up life could end.
I held a job on an oil-rig
flyin’ choppers when I could,
but the nightlife nearly drove me ‘round the bend.”

“And I travelled ‘round the world from year to year,
but each one found me aimless,
one more year the worse for wear.
So I’ve been back to South-East Asia,
y’know the answer sure ain’t there,
but I’m driftin’ north to check things out again!”

“She can even hit the high notes without a problem, too,” Harris observed, and Daring whistled the song’s brief instrumental solo.

“Well, the last plane outta Sydney’s almost gone.
In only seven flyin’ hours, I’ll be landing in Hong Kong.
And there ain’t nothin’ like the kisses
from a jaded Chinese princess.
I’m gonna hit some Hong Kong mattress all night long.”

“If your doors swing that way,” Harris snickered under her breath. Those lines of the song were rather awkward to hear coming from a female singer.

“Well the last plane outta Sydney’s almost gone.
Y’know the last plane outta Sydney’s almost go-o-one.
And it’s really got me worried.
I’m goin’ nowhere and I’m in a hurry.
Y’know the last plane outta Sydney’s almost gone.”

“Well the last plane outta Sydney’s almost gone.
Y’know the last plane outta Sydney’s almost go-o-one.
And it’s really got me worried,
I’m goin’ nowhere and I’m in a hurry.
Y’know the last plane outta Sydney’s almost go-o-ooone!”

“You have a nice voice there, Shef,” Harris encouraged, “Didn’t quite imagine you to be a fan of Cold Chisel, but still a great performance nevertheless.”
        
“Ah-w-well, it’s a great song,” Daring stammered sheepishly, pausing the music and removing her headphones, rather embarrassed by the praise, “They hardly play it on the radio anymore, which is a shame really.”

“Well, it is an old one,” Harris shrugged.

“Old, but gold,” Daring pointed out sternly.

“Come on, sing something else for us then!” Harris grinned, “That obviously isn’t the only song you have stashed away in there, is it?”

“Erm...” the Pegasus glanced at the screen, flicking through the list, “I dunno...”

A loud beeping sound interrupted her train of thought however, as the Skipper’s voice spoke up over the loudspeaker system.

“Attention all crewmembers, this is the Captain speaking. I’ve just got word from Top Brass that as of tomorrow, we’ll be rotating into the American Carrier Battle Group in the Persian Gulf, led by the USS George H.W. Bush, to take part in a short collaborative exercise. Now, to be honest, I only just got this message recently myself, so I’m as surprised by how short-noticed this is as much as you are, but... that’s just the way it is. Just thought I’d let you all know. As you were.”

“Tomorrow? That is a very short notice span,” Daring frowned, “Why are they only telling us now?”

“Question of the day,” Harris murmured, idly glancing across at the Pegasus, “Wouldn’t be the first time HQ has given us orders with short notice. So anyway, now that you’re fully awake, how are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m all sunshine and roses over here,” Daring huffed with a dry grin, “Never been better in my life.”

“Be serious, Shef,” Harris frowned, absent-mindedly swiping the dark brown hair on the left side of her face behind her ear.

“Same as last night,” the Pegasus grunted, “Can’t move my shoulder or my leg without ‘em hurting like all hell.”

She blinked and glanced around as the ship started tilting slightly to the right, indicating that Brisbane had started turning around.

Her ear twitched from the sound of movement outside, and they both turned about as the door opened.
        
“Morning Harris,” the Skipper briefly nodded in greeting towards the nurse as he meandered across and took a seat, exhaling heavily as he sat down, “Mind if I have a word in private with the patient?”

“Sure thing Skip,” Harris shrugged, closing up her laptop, “I think I needed a good excuse for a meal break anyway. If you need me, I’ll be in the Mess Hall.”
        
Once Harris had left the Med Bay, the Skipper met Daring’s concerned gaze with a weary smile, “Alright Shef, I’ve got some good news, and some bad news. Which would you like to hear first?”

“Good news sounds good,” Daring shrugged, “What’s up?”

“Well, it’s sort-of good news, but anyway, as you know, we got a message from Top Brass to rotate into the American Carrier Group. What I didn’t say on the loudspeaker was the full reason why.”

“Dee Dee, if you don’t mind me calling you that, Top Brass has informed me that they went and forwarded our video footage of you to the Americans, to see what they thought of it, and they confirmed that there is indeed highly confidential confirmations that people are mysteriously turning into these... ponies. You’re not the only one who’s wound up like this, it seems, Shef.”

“Aaaand, let me guess? There’s a pony or two on board the US aircraft carrier, and they want to set up a little play date with me?” Daring raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“You catch on quick,” the Skipper nodded with an affirmative grin, “Apparently his name’s Lucas Ferguson, and he used to be a backseat driver in an F-18 Super Hornet. We weren’t given a photo of him though, so we don’t know what he looks like. That’s the good news. The bad news is... we’re rather uncertain if you’re actually coming back with us.”

Her eyes widened, “... Whadda you mean?”

“Top Brass is looking at discharging you from the Navy,” Stevenson sighed softly, “And transferring you to the care of the Americans.”

“...What?” her voice dropped to a soft volume as her face distorted into a frown, “W-why would they do that?!”

“Simple. They don’t know what to do with you, Dee Dee,” the Skipper shrugged apologetically, “They figured that if there are any other people who have ended up like this, they’d all be Yanks, and that it’d kind-of makes sense if you go hang out with them from now on. The only problem is, once you’re transferred to the Americans, that’s it. There’s no guarantee you’ll ever return home to Australia.”

“W-well, i-if that’s going to be the case...” Daring’s expression softened as she swallowed audibly, “Do I at least get to say a last goodbye to my family?”

“...” The Skipper’s expression dropped like a stone, “...Erm...”

“Don’t tell me...” Her ears flattened.

“I s’pose there’s no easy way to put this... ” the Skipper grimaced apologetically, “I’ve been told that they’re not supposed to ever know. It’ll be like Mark Sheffield just disappeared off the face of the Earth.”

“WHAT-- Argh, friggit!” the Pegasus snapped upwards, flinging the blanket across in the process, and then immediately regretting it as her shoulder angrily protested against the sudden exertive movement. Meanwhile, the Destroyer finally reached the end of its u-turn, and evened out again.

“Hey, don’t go shooting the messenger, Leftenant. It wasn’t my idea,” the Skipper frowned sternly.

Daring sat back against the pillow and figuratively bored a hole through the solid steel bulkhead in her field of view with her agitated glare alone, otherwise silent as the intensity of her breathing increased.

“I’m sorry to just up and drop that bombshell on you like that, but... I wasn’t originally going to tell you that until you asked,” the Skipper said resignedly.

“...” Daring hung her head in silence, obscuring her face with the shadows cast by her bangs. Her body shivered with tense energy.

A brief image flashed through her mind, picturing the potential scenario of her parents receiving the letter. That one letter of doom that all parents with kids in the military dreaded to receive, saying that their child, their own flesh and blood that more than eighteen years of joy, tears, toil and sometimes frustration had gone into, was Missing In Action, potentially dead.
        
        Her mother staring blankly, thunderstruck and grief-stricken at the loss of her child; her father wrapping her mother up in a tight hug, attempting to provide a place of comfort and solace.
        
        The image then switched to that of her parents then going and spreading the news. All of their friends, family and neighbours would be informed. They’d all be up in arms mourning her supposed loss as well.
        
        Her younger brother Chris, hunched over on his bunk aboard HMAS Sydney, with the notice beside him and his head in his hands, supporting his elbows on his knees, gobsmacked and in disbelief.
        
        A surge of anger pulsed through her very being, an overwhelming sense of betrayal that Top Brass could just go behind her back and cause everyone grief like this.

In the back of her mind, a sneering voice spoke up in a ghostly whisper, ‘I told you that they don’t give a shit about you! They’re just handing you off at the next convenient moment, just as I predicted!’

‘T-That’s not true!’ she internally muttered back with a snarl, ‘They’re just... going about this in a very wrong way...’

‘Have you got a better explanation, then?’

‘...I’m sure there is one. Just... shut the fuck up already, I’m not listening to you,’ Daring sniffed loudly, choking back a sob, ‘Aren’t you supposed to be dead already, anyway?’

‘My existence is perpetual,’ the voice seemed to shrug cheerfully, ‘As long as you’re worrying about something, I’ll be there to point out the obvious for you, in case you decide to become too dumb to see it yourself. There’s nothing which can stop me from doing as I like, whether you like it or not.’

Stevenson sighed, “... Is there anything else you want to add before I leave, Dee Dee?”

She looked up at the Skipper with a desperate look on her face, “W-Why would they go behind me like this? P-Please tell me they’re not just passing me off because I’m useless and they hate me, are they?!”

Stevenson blinked incredulously, “Woah-woah-woah! Back up for a minute there, Shef... In what universe did anyone say you were useless?! Just yesterday, you saved twelve people not only from drowning, but from a potentially violent death as a pirate’s hostage! No-one has a reason to hate you! And if anyone does, they can come see me about it.”
        
He paused, trying to anticipate just what sort of train of thought could possibly make her think such a thing, before walking back, crouching down in front of her and collecting her hoof up in his hands.

“Lieutenant, listen to me. Don’t you dare think for even a second that this ‘transformation’ crap is going to make us think any less of you. You are still a living, sapient being, and a part of this ship’s crew, as far as I’m aware, and you’ll always have a special place reserved just for you with us.”

“The fact that you were willing to put yourself on the line like that for some complete strangers tells me that you are someone who is more than worth keeping, but... Top Brass thinks it’d be better for you if you were hanging around other people like yourself who have been afflicted by this... condition. If I had my way, I’d be keeping you all to myself, to be honest.”
 
“It’s just that... no-one has ever encountered a situation where anyone has just... physically turned into... well anything, really, much less a flying pony! So... of course Top Brass is a little lost for words at the moment. It hasn’t fully sunk in yet, and they’re just taking action to show that they’re doing... something about this. Alright?”
        
 Daring frowned as she rubbed at her eye with the back of her arm, sniffing loudly again, “So now... they’re just placing me in a box with all the other rejects, eh? That I have some kind of disease that requires quarantine?!”

“I didn’t say that,” Stevenson glared sternly, “So don’t you dare put words in my mouth like that again. The other people who have ended up as ponies are all probably in the same situation as you are: confused and unsure of what to do. By coordinating our efforts with the Americans, we can bring you all together, so that we can keep track of the situation, and then we can work out what’s going on from there.”

“I... Look, I'm sorry for snapping like that, but I just don’t have a full grasp of the picture,” she explained in a soft whisper, “And I don't like it a single bit. My only clues as to what’s going on all come from these strange dreams I’m having, and I don’t know whether I can actually trust them as legitimately useful, or whether they’re just figments of my imagination screwing around with me. It’s weighing down on my mind a lot, even if I don’t show it. There’s just... nothing solid to work with, and it’s all so confusing at the moment. And on top of it all, I have to juggle that with coming to terms that it’s all even happening in the first place! The last thing I really need right now is anyone just throwing me out with the rest of the trash!”

“Lieutenant, listen to me carefully. Did anyone say you were trash?” the Skipper crossed his arms.

“Well no, but-”

“Then shut up. Case dismissed. Now, could you please backtrack for a minute there? I believe you mentioned something about ‘dreams’,” the Skipper leaned in, his curiosity piqued, “Could you just settle down for a bit and care to expand on that for me, please?”

After some hesitation, Daring recounted her supposed ‘flashback’ about her encounter with Discord, about how Princess Luna rescued her from a nightmare, and lastly about her trek through the dangerous jungle looking for some artifact in the middle of God-knows-where, describing all three visions with vivid detail.  

The Skipper sat completely still, listening carefully in respectful silence the entire time.

“... and then I woke up,” she finished with a shrug. Her eyes were still glassy, but her overall posture indicated she was much calmer now.

“Well, I must say that this has been very informative,” the Skipper nodded, “I appreciate that you were willing to share this with me.”

“S’alright,” she shrugged numbly.

“Hey, come ‘ere,” the Skipper’s expression softened up as he drew the Pegasus into a hug. Her short, dense fur was surprisingly soft and warm to the touch. “Don’t start up on the waterworks on us here now.”
        
“Ah! Watch the shoulder!” Daring grimaced and pushed away.
        
        “Oop, sorry,”  Stevenson withdrew, standing up properly, “But anyway, just remember that I always have time for my crewmembers. Don’t you ever forget that. If you’re still bothered by anything, just pop into my office and say ‘g’day’, you hear?”
        
        Daring nodded profusely.
        
        “Good,” He smiled warmly as he walked out the door, letting Harris back in on the way through, “I’ll catch ya later.”

“Mess Hall’s chockers. I can’t be bothered waiting in line, so I’ll get something to eat later when there’s less people,” Harris remarked off-handedly, oblivious to the topic of the prior conversation, before noticing the Pegasus’s poor demeanour. “Huh? What’s up?”

“... Don’t worry,” Daring shook her head, reaching her iPod, “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Pfft, ‘It’s nothing,’ she says,” Harris smirked, “Seriously, what’s on your mind?”

“NOTHING!” Daring snapped with a snarl, glancing up.

The nurse blinked in shock.

She replaced the earbuds in her ears and lay her head face-down into the pillow. “Just... I-I’m sorry... just... not now. I need some time and space to think.”

Harris frowned in concern, but otherwise nodded and said nothing as she returned to her laptop.

‘Poor thing must be under a lot of stress,’ Harris thought worriedly, ‘I hope she can get to the bottom of it soon...’
        
        “Oh!” Daring’s hoof abruptly met her forehead, “And in all that excitement, I forgot to ask him about the cabins...!”

Harris blinked, then smiled, standing up, “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll go see him about it for you.”        

Daring opened her mouth to speak, but then thought better of it, and just nodded in acceptance.

        For mile after treacherous mile, Daring simply ran.

        Dodging trees, jumping over pits, swinging on vines over rivers, and putting as much space between her and the shattered family of panthers she left behind. After running aimlessly for who-knows how long, she finally brought herself to a stop, hunching over and gasping for breath, choking back a horrified sob. Her muscles ached, and she was really starting to rue the moment she carelessly injured her wing. Simply flying through all of this mess would be so much easier!

        “Celestia give me strength,” she whispered desperately.

        Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she refocused her attention to her surroundings.

        There were nothing but trees in every direction.

        After a few moments of fruitless searching, she came to the conclusion that Daring Do, the great adventurer extraordinaire, was lost.

With an unladylike grunt, she wrapped her legs around a nearby tree and started climbing, using her good wing for support.

        Hanging on to a large branch, she glanced about at her surroundings from a higher perspective.

Daring’s eyes widened as, through the trees far off in the distance, she spotted a glint of metal, with a distinct golden sheen.

“... Hello, what have we got here?”

She jumped from the tree, landing with a soft thud, before sprinting off in the direction of the golden gleam.

“That must be the temple I’m looking for!” her expression brightened considerably as she ran. “I can almost feel the Sapphire Stone in my grip already!”

After running for what seemed like too long, the Pegasus finally charged into a clearing amongst the trees. Smack-bang in the centre of the clearing was a large, ancient-looking temple. It looked vaguely like a four-sided pyramid, adorned with strange paintings and carvings across nearly every square inch of its exterior.

Age had not been kind to the temple, it seemed. Innumerous numbers of cracks and chips peppered the tough stone structure, and there were patches of moss growing in places that it probably shouldn’t be.

She could barely contain her excitement as she reached behind her shoulder and produce a rolled-up scroll from her satchel. Spreading it out on the ground before her revealed it to be a map, showing a vast network of complicated tunnels and corridors, the majority of which were all underground. Around the edges of the map were numerous scribbles and notes of trivial interest made by Daring herself.

“Somewhere in here...” she glanced between the map and the temple, “Is the Sapphire Stone.”

She rolled up the map and placed it back in her satchel, “And today, after nearly seventy freaking days of searching, is the day it finally comes out of hiding!”
        
        With a deep breath of fresh air to clear her head of any troubling thoughts, she took a bold step forwards.

        It was a truly intimidating structure as Daring approached it. The numerous carvings and statues of various ponies (or were they zebras? She couldn’t really tell.) all seemed to stare vacantly off into the distance, passively observing the world around them with their stony gazes.

        Her fur tingled with excitement as she stepped through the entrance. On the inside, it was rather dark and dusty. As she ventured further into the tunnel, she noticed that the caverns were lit by wooden torches lined up at intervals along the walls.

She trotted up to a torch and cast over it with a scrutinising gaze.

“This wood is fairly fresh and new. It must’ve been replaced recently, which means that there must be somepony moving through here regularly, for whatever reason,” she surmised, “And whoever they are, they really need to catch up with their housekeeping.”

After one last glance at the torch on the wall, Daring Do turned and continued her trek deep into the bowels of the temple.

The tunnel split up in several directions at a plus-shaped intersection. Whipping out the map from her satchel, she quickly assessed the correct route she needed to take.

"So, it's a left here, straight ahead there, right there, another left there... yadda, yadda, yadda... and a left there!"

Her game-plan set in her head, Daring trudged off on her memorised route through the maze of twists, turns and dead-ends. After what seemed like an eternity, Daring passed through an open doorway, into a chamber similar to the previous passage, except this one was much more spacious and well-lit.

Much like outside, numerous paintings and carvings adorned the length of the walls. Mostly depicting strange creatures she had only seen in books, as well as a few of zebras, and even a few that were recognisable as ponies.

        “Now...” she glanced around the floor warily, “Apparently, this entire chamber is booby-trapped from one end to the other. Only problem is, nopony actually knows what the traps consist of, or what the triggers are, since nopony who has ever entered here has survived this far to come back and tell the tale.

With an audible gulp, Daring warily started pacing forward into the valley of death.

A loud click drew her attention to her hoof, which was pressing down on a loose stone in the floor.

Her blood froze, “That doesn’t sound good.”

Instinctively, she back-pedalled as quickly as she could as within seconds, hundreds of hatches lining the length of either wall opened up. For several hair-raising moments, both walls pelted each other with a hail storm of arrows and darts, signing the instant death-warrant for any poor soul unfortunate enough to be trapped in the middle.

Once the arrows and poison darts ceased, Daring was finally able to settle down her near-hyperventilation.

“Well, that’s one trap taken care of,” she murmured dryly.

Casting a wary glance from one wall to the other, she briskly trotted through the valley of death, the crossbows mounted in the walls now relieved of their ammunition.

Fully alert and awake, she cast a serious gaze about the hallway as she maintained a brisk canter. The several dozen holes in the floor before her weren’t a very good sign.

Taking a deep breath, she increased her pace to a full sprint, and at the very edge of the holed segment in the floor, she launched up in a running leap.

No sooner had her hoof left the floor, the floor suddenly came alive as large, solid spikes speared up through the holes in the floor, aiming to impale whatever happened to be the way as the Pegasus sailed overhead.

Upon landing, she let her front legs buckle from beneath her, and curled up into a commando-roll, allowing her shoulder to absorb the brunt of the impact.

“Whoa!” Daring dragged herself to a stop, as just a few more feet forward, and she would’ve plunged headlong into a deep hole in the floor, lined with sizzling, burning embers.

She dreaded to think of what would happen if she fell in. Fortunately the gap across was not all that big, and she was able to leap across with relative ease.

“Perhaps its purpose is to catch off ponies who were trying to blitz their way through and couldn’t watch where they were going in time,” she mused aloud, “I must admit, that’s a pretty sneaky little trick.”

A loud growl from above her head caused her to instinctively ducked down and lay down flat on the floor.

Hanging above her head, tied to the roof by their tails, was a line of alligators, all snapping their jaws trying the reach out for the lone Pegasus. After a few moments, Daring’s expression contorted into a confused frown.

“... Who in Tartarus ties an alligator to their roof by the tail?! More to the point... why?! If you're going to use apex predators in your traps, you could at least ensure that they're looked after properly! You can't just leave a 'gator hanging by its tail like that, that's just cruel!"

Dragging herself along the cold floor on her belly, she was easily able to get past the snappy reptiles and stand up back on her hooves.

Another loud click reverberated through the hallway.

“What? I didn’t even stand on anything this time!” she quickly glanced about.

A low groaning sound brought her attention to the end of the hallway, where, to her horror, the wall was descending down from the roof, threatening to trap her inside the room.

“Ah crap!” she started sprinting for all she was worth again. As she ran, she hardly noticed that the walls on either side of her were now flinging axes and swords at her in an attempt to stop her in her tracks.

She grit her teeth, anxious that she wasn’t going to make it in time.

Just a few meters from safety, and the descending wall just a few feet off the floor, Daring went for broke and ducked down into a slide, sliding along her hip through the shrinking gap. The stone slab hit the ground with a resounding thud, and locked into place. She chuckled nervously, wiping her brow in relief and breathing heavily from exertion.

Shakily, she stood back up to her hooves and dusted herself off.

Glancing once over herself, she noticed that her hip was now sporting a large graze along its side. Amidst all of her other aches and pains, she hardly noticed it was even there.

Bringing her concentration to bear on the chamber she was in, she was immediately drawn to the pedestal at the end of the room, illuminated by a ray of sunlight, poking through a hole in the roof to the outside world.

Her eyes danced between the hole in the roof, and the passage behind her. “Wait...”

“You mean that instead of nearly killing myself by walking through the valley of death, I could’ve just jumped through that hole up there?! Oh... get stuffed!”

Her agitation quickly inverted on its head as her gaze resettled back on the pedestal. Perched on top was the unmistakable figure of the legendary Sapphire Stone.

‘Stone’ probably wasn’t really the most apt word for it, as it was technically a statuette made of sapphire, formed in the likeness of some mythical creature. Regardless, Daring Do’s eyes glistened all the same as she circled the pedestal, occasionally glancing around warily for any more traps.

Satisfied that nothing else was going to come shooting out of the masonry, she focused her full concentration on the statuette. The pedestal itself was probably rigged with another trap, so she knew that subtlety was paramount.

“... Screw it.”

In a single fluid motion, she swiped the Sapphire Stone from its mounting and stashed it under her hat.

The statuette was heavier than it looked, and it took some getting used to the extra weight.

        For a few tense moments, everything was completely still and silent, as Daring warily glanced around for any triggers.

        When nothing happened, Daring sighed in relief. “Well that was eas--”

*Click!*

“... Ah horseapples.”

        The reaction was almost immediate.

        From beneath her hooves, Daring noticed the stone floor was quickly becoming unbearably hot. Reflexively, she jumped up on top of the pedestal away from the floor.

“That’s not good,” she quickly reached back across her shoulder and frantically unwrapped her injured wing, discarding the torn sleeve-turned-bandage to the floor. Within seconds, it shriveled up and caught fire.

“This is probably going to come back to bite me later,” she flared her wings to their full length. Immediately, a sharp jolt of pain wracked her feathered appendage.

“Got more important things right now,” she grit her teeth, “Just grin and bear it.”

The floor beneath her started cracking, red-hot as lava started seeping up and into the chamber.

With a deep breath, she steeled herself and launched upwards. Each and every flap of her injured wing resulted in an agonising burst of white-hot pain.

“Ow-fuck-shit-ow-fuck-shit-shit-ow-fuck-fuck-shit-cunt-fuck-ow-Luna-dammit!” she swore vehemently with every down-stroke as she drifted up towards the skylight in a wobbly, awkward flight pattern.

With a desperate push, she reached out and grabbed a dangling weed in between her teeth. Letting her wings relax, she reached up for the edge of the hole with her fore-hooves and hauled herself out.

“Ffffriggin’ hell, I am NEVER doing that again,” she writhed on the ground, clutching at her injured wing, which was pulsing with agony.

“Of course you’re not going to do that again,” a new, gruff voice spoke up, startling her. “Because we’re going to make sure of it!”

It was then that Daring noticed the shadows on the ground beside her being cast by the figures behind her. She slowly turned her head about to face them.

"... Oh... right," Daring's eyes widened in realisation, "This was why I didn’t come this way..."