//------------------------------// // Chapter five: Urgency // Story: Into The Fire // by Jack of a Few Trades //------------------------------// The blizzard wound down significantly overnight, with merely a few flurries left over by morning. In its wake, the snowpack was consistently pastern-deep, occasionally up to the knee. A thick blanket of low, gray clouds persisted, bottling in the cold and preventing any warming from occurring as dawn gave way to midmorning. Exhaustion was rampant among the Changeling drones. Most of the night had consisted of conditions so treacherous that flight was out of the question. Now that the storm had mitigated, the entire swarm took to the air to get their frostbitten legs out of the ice and snow. Throughout the night, the Changelings clandestinely spilled across the border. The section of fence they used as the crossing point had been isolated on both ends by the initial infiltrators. They secured the sections adjacent on both sides, replaced the guards with themselves, and allowed the fence to go down without raising any sort of alarms. As day broke, the fence had been raised again and the few remaining drones at the border who were not disguised had been sent on their way to rejoin the main swarm. Ips and Cochylis were part of these few stragglers. They had been around all night, making themselves useful with any task that the others needed assistance with. Now that their work had dried up, they were on their way to catch up. Ips was flying at daredevil speed. For him, this was the greatest event to happen in his lifetime and, as far as he was concerned, would ever happen to him again. He was desperate to get in on any bit of action he could find; a desire that secured his place in the infiltrator brigade early on. Cochylis was much less enthusiastic than his fellow infiltrator. The invasion, to him, was work; a job that needed done and that he wouldn’t rush into more than necessary. Not only that, he was already exhausted from the long night of running back and forth on little errands that needed done. Twice he had been needed to dispel a curious guard, and coming up with non-suspicious excuses for why the soldiers couldn’t go further down the fence had been a challenge all its own. As he flew along at his own pace, he found that Ips constantly passed him by, only to wind up far ahead of him, sometimes almost out of sight. The other drone was flying zealously, bursting ahead and then being forced to wait up for his partner. After several repeats of this pattern, Ips finally decided to confront Cochylis. “Will you hurry up? We don’t have all day!” he shouted back at Cochylis. “I would fly faster, but someone lost our compass last night,” Cochylis retorted, pointing a look at Ips.   “Hey, don’t blame that one on me! Things happen when you’re fighting.” “True, but you could’ve gotten another one if you were checking your equipment properly,” Cochylis stated, sounding like a father giving a lecture. “Whatever,” Ips shot back, beginning to fly in wide loops. “If I wasn’t stuck with a slowpoke like you, I’d already be there.” “Ips, don’t kid yourself. You would be lost if it wasn’t for me.” “Shut up,” Ips retorted with an annoyed snort. The conversation died there. The pair flew on for a few more minutes in silence, Ips flying erratically and performing as many acrobatic maneuvers as he could think of, Cochylis buzzing steadily alongside him. Below them, they could still see the tracks of the swarm that came before them. Faint, stubbly impressions from the hooves, all mostly obscured by new snow. However faint and insignificant the trails seemed, they were vital to the pair of drones. Out in the vast, relatively flat expanse of the open tundra, there were few landmarks to go off of. The sun was obscured by the thick clouds, the winds had gone still, and with the compass dropped earlier by Ips, the tracks below were the only reliable means of navigation. As they flew, Cochylis kept a discerning eye to the ground, making sure to never lose sight of the trail. His mind then wandered to the fight ahead. He was capable when it came to fighting, and from the experiences of infiltration, the Equestrians seemed like pushovers. However, he knew it wouldn’t be the case later on when they were fighting against a prepared enemy, and he wondered to what extent would they have the capacity to retaliate. From the stories he had heard, it would be nothing short of an onslaught. A light bump jarred him form his thoughts; Ips had accidentally nudged him during one of his maneuvers. He shook his head and pushed the worry to the back of his mind, figuring he would find out soon enough anyway. One other thing was bothering Cochylis about his partner, though. He liked to think that he did his part to disprove the Equestrian propaganda that Changelings were malicious fiends with an unquenchable bloodlust and no regard for other forms of life. There was little truth to the accusations of the race as a whole, after all they did need love from other creatures to survive. Ips, however, embodied the stereotype to the letter. He wasn’t particularly bright, he was brutish, and above all, he seemed to be as bloodthirsty as the ponies imagined them to be. During the events of the previous evening, he had murdered the two technicians without a second thought, even though they could have still been of use. The thought that the same thing could happen to him crossed his mind. It was a bit of a stretch, even for a what-if scenario, but the idea was unnerving. Again, Cochylis decided it was in his best interests to forget about that and to focus on watching the tracks below. By this point, Cochylis was starting to grow as impatient as his partner. It felt like they had been flying over the same expanse for the last hour, made worse by the absence of landmarks to go off of. The frustration continued to mount, almost reaching the breaking point, when their destination came into view. The edge of the horizon in front of them began to turn black. At first it was a little more than a very faint mottling of tiny black dots, but as they drew closer, it began to fill in and become more solid. Amongst the miniscule dots were larger blotches with thin protrusions coming out of their fronts, all grouped up on the near side. The massive group stretched from one end of the horizon to the next, now the entire scene reminiscent of an anthill. The tiny black forms began to become more and more defined as they came closer. Eventually, they began to take the shape of Changeling drones. They had arrived. Sombra’s office almost never became cluttered, even during his busiest days. He took pride in keeping the room in order, so that he would have no distractions to deal with when the real work came in. Today was one of those days of real work. Since the budget meeting earlier, he had been working on a hefty stack of forms. Many required nothing more than a simple signature, but some needed extra information and others needed to be read in full. Most of it was standard red-tape and formality, and as much as he hated it, there was no other way to run the government. However, it had been two hours since he had sat down and the stack of completed work was much smaller than it was supposed to be. The interruption in the meeting had left him with many unanswered questions, and the amount of work he needed to get done at the moment kept him from actively seeking answers. It was becoming apparent that he would need to find some answers if he wished to get done on schedule. As he continued along his slog, he found himself continually distracted by those questions. What happened to the patrol? Was it accidental or was the foul play involved? Who could be responsible for it? What could the incident lead to? Had the families been notified? He shook his head and thumped at his temples with a hoof, trying to shake the rambling thoughts and refocus. Staring at the paper for a few seconds, he found that he was having trouble comprehending what the form even said. This time, he could deny it no more. He needed a break. He arched his back and let loose with a long, drawn out yawn. Two hours of sitting still on a chair had left him stiff and full of kinks; not a good sign for his youth. When he finished his stretching, he hopped up from the desk and exited the office. The office opened out into the living room of his chambers. It wasn’t exactly a large room, but it was surprisingly cozy as far as the Castle was concerned. Contrary to most every other room in the building, this one featured textured walls painted in a warm earth tone. A hearth at one end of the room had only a few coals left over from the previous fire, and in the center was a generously cushioned sofa. Sombra levitated a few pieces of kindling and one larger log into the hearth and gave the coals a nudge to reignite with a fire spell. The kindling was well dried, so it lit easily. With the fire started again, Sombra walked over and took a seat on the couch. As soon as he made contact, he melted into the cushion. After a few wriggles to get into a comfortable position, he let out a contented sigh. The gentle crackling of the fireplace was soothing, and the dim light in the room was leading him into the beginnings of sleep. Just as he was ready to drift off, his mind suddenly leapt into overdrive again. This time, the questions were more morbid. What if there was an attack looming on the Empire? Could it harm the civilians? Could the Empire handle the threat? The thoughts were unsettling, and he found that he had a knot in his chest and his heart was pumping faster.    To calm himself, he ignited his horn and summoned a small orb of green light. He considered it thoughtfully, watching the shadows grow and shrink dynamically as he moved it about. To complement it, he conjured up a red ball, this one larger than the initial green one. Both spun around the room, dancing with the finesse that only practice could bring. The light show he was putting together wasn’t enough, and he brought in a large influx of spheres to the mix. Yellows, hot pinks, deep blues, fiery oranges, all moving in a carefully choreographed scene. It all worked together in harmonious rhythm, each orb working to fill a role in the abstract scene coming together in the dark chamber. Little swirls and starbursts were placed where needed. The occasional whizz and pop sounded through the room to add effect.  The colors blended together in just the right places. He marvelled at the scene he was creating, forgetting for a moment that he was quite possibly under attack and in real danger. This show was just what he needed to suppress the panic that was attempting to manifest itself.         The show was brought to an abrupt halt by the door opening. His concentration broken, the show quickly faded into the air. He looked to the door to see the source of the interruption. In the doorway stood a magenta Crystal Pony, carrying a satchel that hung low from her midsection. Her streaked primrose mane was disheveled and she looked distraught, her mouth pressed into a thin line and her eyes burning with frustration.         “Ruby?” Sombra asked.         “Hey,” she acknowledged noncommittally, crossing the room and depositing the satchel on a table near the office door.         Sombra did not reply immediately, calculating his next words carefully. It was obvious that she was upset, and from what he could tell, she wasn’t in the mood for talking. Words were not going to work, so he tried a non-verbal approach. She passed in front of the couch a few seconds later, and he reached out a hoof and caught her by her front leg.         “Honey, not right now,” she complained, trying to shake off his hold. He insisted and pulled her to the couch, depositing her next to himself. She moved to complain again, but a strong hoof around her shoulder gave her an answer. She was caught.         “What are you doing?” she asked.         “Being cute and spontaneous,” he replied, nuzzling against the top of her head. Her response was to melt into the embrace. They sat like that for a few minutes, silently enjoying each other’s company. The crackles and pops of the fireplace were again the only sound in the room.         “Do you want to talk about it, Ruby?” Sombra whispered, breaking the silence.         “No,” she answered, burying her head into his shoulder.         “It was the children, was it not?” Sombra lightly pressed the issue, trying to get her to let off a little of the pressure she was holding. He remembered that she had visited one of the local schools today, and his best guess was that the foals had caused a problem.         “No, it was a group of parents. They started getting in an argument over something or other and when I tried to restore order, they started getting angry with me for ‘interfering in a personal matter’.” She threw up quotations with her hooves to add effect. “Ugh, sometimes it gets hard to stay collected in things like that, you know?”         “Mmmmm,” Sombra hummed. He was beginning to start up his light show again, adding in the little orbs of light one by one and building the display back to where he had it before.         Ruby watched as the presentation built, falling silent and settling back into the couch, her head resting on her husband’s shoulder. Sombra, instead of building the show for a vigorous attempt to clear his mind like before, used a more gentle style. The colors were warmer and soothing and the effects were less energetic and exciting. Before long, Sombra felt her relax against him; she had fallen asleep. He snorted in amusement and gave her a light kiss in the head. Since she was using him as a pillow, he needed to sit still. He no longer felt the incessant panic within himself, and he sat and watched the flames licking over the log in the hearth in silence.         He didn’t know how long he sat still with Ruby draped over him, but he didn’t care. She was especially cute when she was asleep, and he was content to stay still for as long as possible. However, as all things must come to an end, a knock at the door beckoned. Carefully, he surrounded her in an aura and slipped out from beneath her. With even more care, he eased her down to the couch and rested a pillow under her head. She didn’t even stir.         Sombra edged his way to the door on silent hooves. He threw a quick dampening spell on the hinges and latch before he opened it, and pulled the door open carefully. An observation of who was on the other side made all of the comfort of moments before disappear in the blink of an eye.         It was Commander Nest himself.         Sombra slipped through the door and pulled it closed again before relaxing the spell. “Commander,” he acknowledged, touching his hoof to his forehead in an impromptu salute.. Nest saluted with more formality, “Your Highness.” Sombra let his breath out slowly, “Let’s get right down to it. Your note was rather brief and nondescript, I must say. Care to fill me in more?” Nest shook his head, “I can’t say that I know much more. As per your request, the patrol captain has already been transferred to the castle’s infirmary and we’re just waiting for him to wake up.” “Good. I want him debriefed as soon as he wakes; at this point, every second could be crucial,” the King stated. “In that case, I think we should do it ourselves. Less chance of miscommunication if we hear it direct, after all,” Nest offered, turning to walk back down the hall. Sombra nodded and followed along without another word, a scowl affixed to his face. Coal Dust was running as fast as his hooves would move, and yet he gained no ground. The snow was being driven into his side by the winds, penetrating his fur and soaking the skin underneath as it melted. He couldn’t even feel his right side anymore from the numbing effect of the wind. Ahead was his squad; Fire Chaser, Greenfield, Flash Point, and Gust. All of them running away from him, leaving him behind like they didn’t know he existed. He desperately needed to be back with his group; without them he was as good as dead. It seemed that no matter how fast he ran, they always stayed the same distance ahead of him. His legs burned, his head throbbed, and his mouth was cold and dry. The others seemed to run so effortlessly, like they had no trouble with the snow and wind trying to slow them down. Any amount of effort he put towards catching up to them had no effect. They were just too quick. And then the entire world flashed with a nefarious shade of green. It blinded him, causing him to trip and tumble to the ground. As he tripped, a string of curses escaped his lips before he landed and the wind was knocked from his lungs. Snow filled his nose and his ears as he slid to a halt. Now he was mad. If he had any chance of catching up to the others before, it was completely gone now. He was furious. A burning need to destroy the source of the light consumed him as he quickly rose to his hooves and looked ahead. The others were gone. No trace of them remained. Coal Dust squinted, trying to see as far ahead as he could. That was when he noticed the fading cloud of an explosion where the patrol had been. He went to scream, but no sound formed. His lungs were still struggling to take in the air that had been shoved out in the fall. His entire body seemed to shut down, and he fell over in the snow. THUD. The snow was gone, replaced by a mattress and bed sheets that were a bit scratchy. Coal Dust groaned and rolled over onto his back, his deeply achy muscles protesting the movement with surges of pain. Shifting about brought on an intense headrush, causing his vision to blur and his hearing to cloud up. The headrush cleared to reveal that several wires were connected to his chest and foreleg, running back to a heart monitor at the bedside. A small cart next to the bedside contained some basic medical instruments: a small syringe filled with amber liquid, a roll of tape, a stack of gauze, and a bag of IV fluid. The instruments alluded to the fact that he was in the hospital, but this one was different from the one he had been in several times before. Instead of being in a small space flanked by thin curtains, he was in a comfortably sized room. The walls were not the standard-issue sterile white of the general hospital, but rather a familiar shade of reflective sky blue. The floor was also shiny, though a deeper shade of blue than the walls. It dawned on him that he was in the castle’s infirmary. Only the most important of ponies were admitted here when they were ill, and the idea felt a bit strange. He was a Sergeant, not even an officer, and yet he was being taken care of in a room that was reserved for the highest ranking officials? Before he had a chance to ponder the question further, the door opened up to admit a golden Crystal pony mare that was carrying a small bundle. She crossed the room to the bedside and dropped the bundle on the bedside cart. Her mouth now free, she smiled at him. “Good to see you awake, Mister, uh…” she quickly checked her chart “...Sergeant Dust! How are you feeling this morning?” Coal Dust shifted in the bed a bit and let out a grunt of discomfort, “Sore. But I’m feeling okay other than that.” “Good to hear. My name is Nurse Viola, I’ll be taking care of you,” she said while reaching over and retrieving the bundle. It flopped open on the bed, revealing a small bottle of medicine, a few bandages, and a thermometer. “I’m going to start by taking your vitals, can you open your mouth please?” Coal Dust complied and she placed the small glass tube under his tongue. Viola took the stethoscope from around her neck and attached it to her ears, “I’m going to listen for your heartbeat, can you shift a bit closer to me?” Again he did as she asked. The cool metal ring of the stethoscope elicited a flinch from him as it made its way down to bare skin. “Okay, breathe in,” she asked while moving the bell to different parts of his barrel. “Let that breath out slowly.” This process repeated several times until she took the earpieces out and returned the device to her neck. Viola had scribbled down the results on her chart and was getting ready to unwrap a bandage when the door opened. Before she could look over to the doorway, a familiar voice came from the still-empty doorway. “Thank you for your work, Miss Viola, but I’m afraid I need to ask you to step out for a short while.” The nurse put the rest of her supplies on the table, shrugged at her patient, and exited the room in a brisk walk. A moment after she left, the source of the voice made himself visible. The tall gray form of none other than the King of the Crystal Empire himself stepped through the doorway. A couple of steps behind him was Commander Nest. Their somber expressions were enough to send chills up Coal Dust’s aching spine. Sombra, in particular, looked frazzled. “Sergeant, I believe we need to talk.” Coal Dust slowly, but surely, made his way down the grandiose staircase that led up to the Castle entrance. His muscles were barely ready for use. The newly scabbed cuts and scrapes left over from the previous night stung dully under the bandages. The day was bright, sunny, and warm. The sun was nearing the top of its arc for the day, and the whole Empire was glistening in the bright rays. The city went about its daily routine; the native Crystal Ponies and the occasional Pegasus, Unicorn, or regular Earth Pony that had arrived or moved in from elsewhere bustling about, doing business, recreating, visiting shops, and any number of other activities. The pleasant day had brought the majority of them outside, and the whole city seemed to be abuzz with happiness. And then there was Coal Dust. More than anything, he wanted to warn these ponies of the imminent danger that was descending upon them. He felt the need to let them know so they could protect themselves. Yet, however badly he felt the need to inform them, he knew that it would only cause him to be dismissed as crazy, not to mention the repercussions from those higher in command. And so he walked, slowly, tiredly, and at the same time nervously. His eyes were constantly scanning other ponies around him, hoping that maybe one of them would be an infiltrating Changeling to give him the leverage he would need to warn the Empire. It was a futile hope; one that seemed to grow dimmer as he walked. In addition to the numerous bandages he wore, something else was drawing attention to him. As he made his way down the road away from the castle, he was constantly flanked by two guards from the palace. Seeing palace guards out on the street was an uncommon sight, and more than a few civilians watched as the small procession made its way east toward the Army base. While he walked, Coal Dust thought back to the debrief. His account of the events of the previous night was met with a disguised look of horror from Sombra. The King, still quite young for his position, looked to be overwhelmed by the new information, though he was good at hiding it. When the debrief was over, he stood and wordlessly walked out. The only acknowledgement he gave the soldier was a quick nod. Nest, on the other hoof, was as stone-faced as a palace guard on duty. For his lack of emotion, his look could have been either indifference or fatalism; he didn’t know for sure. He looked resigned to the fact that he would be leading his troops to battle in the near future. Not long after Sombra left, he too stood and made for the door. Before he exited, he uttered one line that made Coal Dust’s blood run cold. ”I’ll deal with you later.” The crystal Pegasus shivered, shaking the thought from his head. While thinking back on the unpleasant event, he had gone a considerable distance. He was now most of the way back to the compound, at the street corner where the donut shop was. A glance at a clock nearby showed it to be five minutes until noon. The shop was just about to close down for the day, and a thought came across his mind. I should go let her know I’m okay. The guards hadn’t given the shop a second look and were already turning down the road that led to the base. Looking at the homey little building that was getting ready to disappear from view around the corner spurred him to break the silence. “Excuse me.” The guard cocked his head to see Coal Dust out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah?” “Do you think we could stop at the donut shop over there for a minute?” The guard shook his head. “No, we’re supposed to take you straight back to base without stops.” Coal Dust tapped a hoof to his chin, “I know the owner, and I bet I-” The guard cut him off curtly, “The answer is no.” Coal Dust’s ears laid back on his head in defeat. He sighed and resumed his stiff walk without another word. “Hey Dusty!” All three ponies turned simultaneously to look for the the source of the voice. Across the road, a little tan mare was trotting in their direction, her smile visible from across the street. Her curly scarlet-and-pink mane bounced up and down as she jogged. She crossed the street, without looking, and continued her approach. As she neared, her smile visibly faded, being replaced by a concerned frown. “Celestia above, Dusty! What happened to you?” Braided Twist walked up and examined each bandage over his face and neck. “Excuse me, ma’am? I’m sorry but we can’t let you—” “Yeah, in a minute,” she dismissed with a wave of the hoof, not sparing so much as a glance in the guard’s direction  “No, I’m sorry, miss. You can’t talk to him right now,” stated the guard , adding a touch more firmness into his tone.         Braided Twist turned to face the guard, “Excuse…” she started to snap, only just now noticing the stallion’s uniform. “..you.” The second word lacked every ounce of the attitude from before.         “Sorry, Braid,” Coal Dust said softly. He gave her a quick hug and began his walk again, leaving the mare to her thoughts and worries. She stood still with a bewildered look on her face for a long time as she watched him leave before she turned away and slowly began shuffling her way to her own home.         The quick few seconds of friendly interaction meant a lot more to Coal Dust than it should have. It was the first time since the night before that anypony had taken a moment to care about him.