Night Mares

by NCMares

I

I.

July
Year 6 of the Harmonic Age

Faint rumbles ripple through the quiet night as a storm develops on the horizon.

“…but it’s not thunder. Is it, Apple Bloom?”

My orange eyes remain focused on the clouds in the distance as they are occasionally lit from below by rapid flashes of yellow and white light.

“No.” I answer. “I reckon thunder ain’t nearly as pretty as what we’re seeing right now.”

I sit perched in a tree overlooking a cliff face bathed in moonlight and surrounded by fireflies. The animals of the forest are completely silent. They're aware of the coming storm. The only sound to be heard is the occasional quiet roll of a particularly large detonation.

What must it be like?

After another minute of watching the clouds advance toward us Sweetie Belle speaks up. “We ought to keep moving, while the moon is still shining.”

I breathe deep as a light breeze rustles through the pine trees. I nod to myself and drop from my perch, landing with a heavy thud next to Scootaloo. We rise to all fours and I nod toward the forest, disappearing inside with my friends following close behind. The forest canopy blocks most of the moon's glow, but like a great spotlight it manages to shine through spaces upon the grass below. It’s exceedingly beautiful. In one moment we are immersed in white light and the next shrouded in darkness.

“Are you girls nervous?” Sweetie Belle asks.

"Heh, yeah." I quickly mutter.

“Good – I was hoping it wasn’t just me.”

“I think you’d have to be crazy not to be.” Scootaloo interjects. “I don’t know about you, but I sure haven’t done anything like this before.”

“Nopony's done this in a mighty long time, Scoots.” I pause and then add, “Let alone like we are.”

I listen to the little mechanical sounds of my hind legs as we trot onward. Each step is accompanied by tiny hissing and wheezing. My foalhood friends and I are among fifteen ponies under the command of Princess Luna equipped with such technology. Technology that will finally give the Equestrian nation a chance to really fight back against her invaders. Nervous doesn't begin to describe the feeling in my gut – that sinking weight reminding me that other pony’s lives depend on me.

This is our very first mission – sabotage two magical 'radio' installations deep within the forest. Twilight Sparkle said that the hostile ponies communicated instantly with each other over huge distances with waves. Not like water waves, though – she says they’re like magic in the air. I’m not sure how all that works, but I do know that if a grease-pony like Scootaloo can’t figure out how it all ticks then we are well equipped to destroy the sites, anyhow.

The conversation ebbs away as it usually does whenever our hooves are mentioned. We volunteered to receive them, but it was still mighty disturbing to think about what our friend Twilight and her scientists had accomplished. When we awoke for the first time Sweetie about had a heart attack when she saw her legs – the poor thing kept asking for her old ones back for hours. We got better as we learned to use them, but that first day was the hardest. I don’t reckon anypony can blame us - I ain’t ever heard of a pony walking on two legs before.

The moon’s light fades as the deep violet clouds advance far above. Within minutes the cloud cover is unbroken and we are practically walking blind.

“Settle down,” I mutter.

The last thing we need is to fall down an unseen ravine in these mountains. The wind suddenly picks up, rushing through the leaves and flicking my mane over my shoulder. We crouch low and huddle up at the base of a tree as gentle raindrops begin to pelt the earth. We don’t talk about it, but I know we’re all wondering what it will be like when the sun comes up. What it will be like to do what we have to do.

--

None of us can sleep while we wait for the sun to rise. I can hardly sit still. I think about what it will be like to use these weapons. How it will feel to shoot somepony. How it will feel to be shot at. I frown and bring a hoof to my face. With a thought three small black fingers and a thumb separate from the yellow of my natural body and I curl them in and out. These are powerful, too. If it came to it these could be as deadly as any gun. I quietly sigh as I lower my hoof and think about home.

Applejack had been drafted only a week before I left for Canterlot into the tank corps. Those machines were truly terrifying – belching smoke and growling like a monster as the ground shook under the treads; let alone the enormous gun. Where Twilight and her team thought up this stuff, I’ll never know. Snug inside a steel beast is probably about as safe as it gets here in the Northwest, so I’d rather AJ be there than anywhere else.

She’s probably worried sick about me, no doubt wanting more than anything to plant a helmet on my head. I wonder what she’d think of my hooves. Big Mac and Granny are probably thinking of us both back home on the farm. His wound is probably patched up good by now. I feel a drop of moisture on my foreleg. It’s not rain. With a sniff I dry my eyes and sigh as the wind sweeps across the grass. Do I already miss them this much?

“Are you thinking of home, Apple Bloom?” Scootaloo whispers.

“Yeah.”

She nods. “Me too. I’m really missing Ponyville and my folks right now.”

“Me three!” Sweetie pipes up quietly from around the tree.

“What do you think Rarity’s up to?”

“Probably asleep.” Sweetie laughs softly. “But missing me as much as I miss her.”

“I bet Rainbow Dash was in that battle we saw earlier – kicking flank like a true Wonderbolt.”

“Maybe Applejack was, too?”

I remain silent and look to the sky through the pine needles. It’s gotten lighter. Almost time to go. I lift the flap of a pouch on my vest and refer to the map therein, figuring we can’t be more than a mile from our destination. My heart begins to beat a little faster. I put the map away, retract my fingers and rise to my hooves.

“Let’s move.”

--

“Turns out the advance scouts were off by a quarter-mile.” Sweetie mutters behind large binoculars

We lay on our bellies at the edge of the forest, observing a stretch of grass between us and a small wooden building barely visible in the gloom of dawn. A large structure soars into the grey sky from the roof, crisscrossed by metal framework and a number of small dishes and orbs. A lone guard scans the forest from a perch in the tower.

“I’ll stay here and take care of the tower.” I whisper. “Scootaloo’ll use that ditch over there to get as close as she can before rigging the bombs.”

We look to a shallow dip in the grass running parallel to the building and into the forest beyond. At least fifteen trots stand between the ditch and the site itself, however. Ain't no way she’ll be able to get very close before I’d have to shoot the guard, alerting anypony in the building and probably within a mile to our presence.

“I think they’re asleep.” Sweetie Belle passes the binoculars. "They haven’t moved at all the whole time we’ve been here.”

Although I can’t guarantee they’re asleep, I agree with her that the guard is not moving.

“The sun is about to come up. I’ll go with Scootaloo while you watch over us. If anything happens, just whistle or something.”

I nod and swallow hard. Sweetie and Scootaloo quietly shuffle away from me and make their way to the ditch. I lick my front teeth and release a quivering breath. This is really happening. My chest lightly tightens and I bring forth the long rifle, hooves all but shaking in anticipation. I settle the weapon and peer through a telescope fixed atop the barrel. With remarkable clarity I fix my gaze on the still guard and then pan to the meadow, waiting for my friends to appear. My ears twitch as a breeze sweeps through the forest, carrying with it a sound like rushing water.

There – I spot Scootaloo crawling ahead of Sweetie in the tall grass. When they’re about halfway to the antenna I look back to a now empty tower. My heart sinks and my mouth goes dry. After three failed attempts I finally manage to give a quick whistle like that of a bird, hoping that that anypony besides my friends would buy it as such.

Scootaloo immediately stops and waves toward Sweetie. I finally spot the guard approaching their position. I bring the cross-hairs to bear on his – no, her – head. She seems tired, squinting into the forest with a gun at her side. It's a lot different than ours but very lethal. I feel one of the fingers on my left hoof detach itself and wrap around the trigger.

One shot, and then the rest will come.

I catch my breath and focus. Only two things are in existence now – me and the pony I’m about to kill. A moment before I fire the mare suddenly gives a cough, yawns wide and turns about. I blink, letting out the breath Twilight told me to hold when firing and almost chuckle as I loosen my grip on the trigger. The quiet sounds of dawn return to my ears.

I follow the retreating guard and jump as Scootaloo suddenly enters my viewport on her hind legs. The pony can barely turn her head before my friend clamps a hoof over her muzzle and thrusts a knife through her neck. They collapse to the ground, Scootaloo holding fast as the mare thrashes with less and less fervor as the seconds pass. I watch her give a lurch and the motions suddenly cease.

Scootaloo, the first of us to draw blood, motions to Sweetie. She rises to her own hind legs and, with weapons trained on the building, they advance across the meadow. Horrified, I remove my eye from the glass.

How could she?

How could I, for that matter, when the time comes? My breath quickens as my friends approach the base of the tower.

Like nothing! She just killed somepony and went her way without even…

Even what? Showing remorse? Holding a proper burial and informing next of kin? Is this not what we’re here for? What Twilight trusts us to do?

I recall how close I was to taking that mare’s life. With a shiver born not of the wind I realize that I felt nothing in that moment save for devotion to my friends. I hope Scootaloo felt the same way when she unsheathed her knife.

Scootaloo plants the explosives at the base of the building and then, before I know it, she and Sweetie are stepping backward from the site, weapons still pointed forward in case somepony decides to step outside for some fresh air.

The golden sun is just peeking over the treetops when my friends finally disappear into the forest. I look back to the dead mare lying in the grass. The wind lightly picks at her blonde mane. Her back is to me, but when the brilliant sun strikes the meadow through the trees I can clearly see a crimson stream staining her brown coat.

I tear my eyes from the corpse as Sweetie and Scootaloo return. In the latter’s hoof is a small device connected to a wire. Her vest is dark with blood and a few drops rest below one eye.

“Brace,” she mutters. She presses the button.

The installation erupts in a cloud of black smoke and dust. A split-second later my ears flatten down as a thunderous roar blasts through the meadow and into the pit of my stomach. Pine needles rain down as the racket echoes through the forest, frightening dozens of birds from their nests.

I open my eyes, rise to a knee and shakily sling the long rifle across my back.

When the time comes, I need to be faster. I can’t think - if I think then one of us will be killed.

Continuing to look at the smoking wreckage I mutter, “For the record: One installation destroyed. Nightmare Two continues to the next site.”

I won’t let one of us be killed.