//------------------------------// // 1 // Story: Burning Up // by A Space Cephalopod //------------------------------// Wake up… Her eyes shot open, the deliberate effort being nearly enough to move a starship across a galactic arm on Will alone. The action lasted less than a second, however, as she quickly shut them again reflexively. Light assailed her left eye, a burning, stinging pain searing through her ocular nerve and occipital lobe in the nanoseconds it took her medulla to process the sensations. With a self-muted grunt of conscious acknowledgement to the pain she cracked her right eye open, allowing the visual media to process through her brain. Though sluggish her thoughts raced through her mind as if a traffic jam, questions and answers to questions stacked atop memories, wishes and gripes. Within a few seconds she made sensory notes that she was hungry, thirsty and in a large amount of throbbing, aching pain from many blunt trauma wounds across her one hundred and seventy five-pound body. Her six-foot frame attempted to move, to shudder and curl instinctively, though consciously she refused it the pleasure. Her skin was sticky with the salt of dried sweat and the film of congealed and drying blood, the slightest movement causing more discomfort from the cracking gore separating itself from her dermis. As she woke exhaustedly from her state of unconsciousness her mind began to cycle its boot system, psychologically conditioned into her brain after months of Survival Evasion Resistance and Escape training at the UNSC SERE School. Coleman. Erin C. Lance Corporal. Orbital Drop Shock Trooper. United Nations Space Command Defense Force. Service Number Sea-Dash-Wun-Wun-Ate-Nine-Dash-Ee-Dash-Seven-Four. Former. Harbinger class Slayer. Outer Rim Brutehunters, Dropkick Division. Current. Her training continued to drive her instincts forward. Step one, Survival. The fact that she was alive through her injuries was proof that she had accomplished that objective. Next was Escape. Her body moved to find its boundaries; Her arms rising a few inches before she met resistance. Her legs were similarly bound to the surface, along with her head and waist. Quickly she entered mid-brain function, her body thrashing against its restraints with enough force to rock the surface she was sitting on. After an immeasurable amount of time she calmed, her forebrain regaining control as sheer animalistic anger at being bound faded to cold-rolled steel reason and logic. Her mind knew that she was either bound for her own good or to keep her from fleeing. Possibly both. Maybe neither. She chanced opening her eyes again, this time slowly so as her eyes may adjust to the light in her face. As she blinked and made an effort to calm herself she took notice of the forces at play. Gravity pressed down on her chest, legs, arms and stomach, meaning that she was on her back. Air moved over her eyes, brows, lips and the bridge of her nose. Her visor was compromised, but the fact that she was alive meant the atmosphere was breathable. The ache in her body meant that she had taken a beating from something quite powerful to have the wounds transition through her armor and sealed under-suit. Pinpoint pains far greater than the ache meant she had internal damage; cracked or broken ribs, a fractured wrist, twisted or sprained ankle, broken fingers and split knuckles. As she made her self-diagnostic the sound of a door reached her ears, opening and closing followed with the tapping of hard objects against stone or imitation linoleum tiles. The slow and staggered one-one dual beat meant something moving in a four legged stance, the shuffling of papers and the sounds of electronics she now noticed meant something dealing with examination or experimentation. Her eyes began to process what was before her, having adjusted to the overhead lighting. Tiles, of the sort found in derelict buildings from the 21st century, framed the long and glowing tubes that created the white light. “Hmm… Must have fallen back into unconsciousness.” The voice was smooth, a comforting, if rather disappointed, tone naturally flowing over and around the words meaning the speaker meant her no ill will. Or was masking it well. She chanced moving her fingers and flexing her uninjured ankle, attempting to gain the speaker’s attention. She closed her exposed eye, knowing that the darker tint of the world meant he visor was still polarized. They wouldn’t truly know if she was awake or not. The same one-one double beat echoed around the room again, gaining in clarity and volume as it drew nearer. She subtly slowed her breathing, feigning sleep as to further fool her captor or caretaker. “Ah, asleep now are we?” the speaker said, the voice definitively masculine now that it was fully distinguishable. It wasn’t one of the few doctors ORB had on payroll, that she was certain. “Hmmm… An improvement at least. Now we don’t have to care for a comatose creature we have no understanding of.” No understanding? Creature? Who was this? How could they not know that she was a human? She chanced another motion, allowing her head to roll to the right in an attempt to see her captor. But he wasn’t there. In the place of the voice’s owner was a horse of small stature, possibly a pony like she remembered as a child. It was white in color, mane and tail a silvery gray. Across it’s back was a white sheet, bulging slightly across the barrel of its body. Well fed. Food if necessary. “Heartbeat holding at-“ Whatever was said was lost to her as her mind screamed in protest. What she had seen wasn’t possible. She denied its possibility, its very premise of quantum existence. But the fact persisted to make itself known both audibly and visually. The horse was talking. It was speaking English to top it off with a cherry. “Ah! I see that you’re awake now. Good.” Her eyes were now wide open; pupils contracted to pinpricks as the light flooded her retinas. The stare of her deep blue eyes was focused on the talking animal as it neared her, following its every movement, flicking across its body to examine every inch visible. Legs, neck, head, ears, hair, fur, tail... Hooves. The thing had hooves for Space’s sake! There was no way it was talking, let alone trying to converse with her. “Forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself.” The talking horse was not even a meter from her, having stopped itself mid sentence to make introductions of all things. “My name is Benevolent Touch. I am an Intensive Care physician at Canterlot Memorial Hospital… Where you are.” Clarification! The thing had the audacity and shocking ability to possess the forethought to clarify what it had spoken of! “In case you were wondering, you were brought here by a Royal Guard Patrol member on the western border, flown here on the stallion’s very back I might add. He had no idea who, or even what you were, but he could tell from the bleeding around your legs, stomach and forelegs that you were in need of care. In fact he’s in the waiting area now, waiting on orders to make certain that you are well cared for.” He stopped himself, baffling normal Equine anatomy by twisting his leg to place a hoof against his chest before clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, I was about to take off on a tangent. Forgive me.” Benevolent, she decided to call him, walked toward her, raising a leg and tapping her wrist with a hoof. “As you can tell by yourself, we restrained you. Now this is not because we wish to hold you against your will. No, no. You were doing a good bit of thrashing a few days ago, so we thought it wise to keep you from injuring yourself further, and we added the strap around your head when you had a seizure just yesterday.” He lowered his hoof back to the ground, making to a table near the foot of the medical table. With a shifting of the sheet on his back a feathery appendage revealed itself, reaching forward and withdrawing a key in the grasp of a few articulating feathers. “Now that you are awake I am certain I can remove these. With your cooperation we may even be able to treat any injuries we did not notice before.” He chuckled nervously, tapping her chest harness with a hoof. “It would seem that we do not possess the knowledge or tools to remove your armor ourselves.” He placed the key in a hole she couldn’t see beside her head, the strap releasing and allowing her to lift her helmet from the table. “There we are. That must feel exponentially better. Now I’m sure we no longer need these restraints, so I’m going to release you in full. Just let me…” He removed the key from the hole, repositioning it in one by her left wrist after a short walk around the table. With a twist of his wing the straps were removed, Benevolent moving to her left leg, then her right. As he moved to her right side she looked down at herself, finding her M6SOCOM pistol still secured in its holster. Apparently this creature didn’t have knowledge of what it was, or he would have removed it. Unless he was jus unintimidated by it or too stupid to know danger when he saw it. As he released her right wrist she flexed the joint, making certain it had full functionality before subtly undoing the securing clasp. “Last one, and then you can sit up, stand or do whatever, but I urge you strongly to stay inside of this room. You are injured and I have sworn an oath to help any living creature back to full health.” As Benevolent removed the waist restraint a flurry of motion descended upon him. As Erin stood over the unconscious creature, firearm in hand, she allowed her forebrain to process what had happened. As the strap pulled away she rotated onto her ass, drawing the weapon on her thigh in a singular, fluid motion. With a kick of her left leg she caught him in the jaw, striking the pressure point with the toe of her armored boot and causing him to fall unconscious. She took the attack further by rotating on her now planted left foot and delivering a flat footed kick to his wing, snapping the fragile bones and sending him flying two meters from her, impacting a table of medical instruments and casting them in every which way. She had fallen upon him, weapon raised and finger on the trigger, ensuring he was incapacitated before checking his neck for a pulse. Evade. Resist. That was her objective now, and she was going to fight for her freedom and survival if it meant the death of everyone and everything that got in her way.