She didn’t have time to debate with the small yellow animal. Dr.Tibbs had requested that the small patient be brought back for a follow up exam in the morning. She was certain that Dr.Tibbs meant for her to return at a later time, but she had to leave.
She received a summons from the commander to finally compose a condolence letter for the late Henry Yatter who died in an accident prior to arriving in this star system. The ship had come under fire from a Javian scout ship and he had been on the engineering deck sleeping off a hangover when he had fell, and bashed his skull against a rail. The commander had put off writing a condolence letter until now and it was the yeoman’s job to compose it and send it off. She had already written one in fact, and she just needed the commander’s approval and signature.
Firstly, she’ll drop the animal off at the med bay. Dr.Tibbs could watch her while she spoke with the commander in the recreational area. However, it seemed that Dr. Tibbs was still asleep, the med bay door was sealed and the interior windows were dark. Crap. Well, looks like the animal gets to come with her then.
The recreation area was used as both a gym and training hall. There was a side room with weight machines, treadmills, and cycles and a wide open space for basketball or a game of volley such as what was going on right now. The yellow creature kept wriggling to get free from her arm whimpering complaints with hooves digging into her ribs. However, once they entered the floor, she stopped fighting to watch the game, her large eyes following the ball as it passed between the players.
The commander was likely inside the gym, performing her morning workout. Mikala switch the animal over to the other arm to tug out the wrinkles that its fretting had created. As her uniform was straightened the door opened and Navigator Shannon Connor walked out.
Shannon was a comely woman with chestnut ringlets bouncing about her face and ears. Freckles sprinkled over her nose and cheeks and stark green eyes gleamed at anyone they beheld. She was an older woman, late 30’s with a twenty year military career. However, instead of wearing her uniform, she wore a gym uniform of shorts and white tee with a red slash over the right side.
“Well, what do we have here?” Her green eyes alighting on the creature in Mikala’s grasp. “Is that a pony?”
“A pony... ah, yeah, I guess you could call it a pony.” She hadn’t thought of the word, but pony definitely fitted as it was far too small to be called a horse. “Dr. Tibbs wasn’t in her office or she would have taken it.”
“I’ll watch it for you while you speak with the commander.” She held out her hands for the creat... pony.
“How did you know I came here for that?” Mikala handed over the yellow pony that wiggled a little in the handover, but was clasped against Shannon’s chest.
“Honestly, because the commander was saying how much she dreaded it.”
“Oh.” Mikala felt deflated as a flat balloon. “I...guess then I won’t be long.”
“Be careful and try not to show any weakness." Shannon lifted the pony to her face and placed a series of kisses along the pony’s muzzle, “You are such a cutie, yes, you are! Yes, you are!”
Mikala was almost as embarrassed as the pony looked. She entered the gym and was greeted to a lovely sight of Winter’s pecs as he lifted weights shirtless. She wanted nothing more than to stay and watch the exquisite show, but doing so in public would invite further harassment. The yeoman turned away and her eyes settled on the commander.
The commander ran on the treadmill, her shoes slamming along the moving belt as she kept pace at a full run. The woman was older, grey starting to seize her brown hair that was held back from her face in a loose tail. Though she was older, she had the firm strong body of any athlete. A scar crisscrossed her shoulder where a bullet had imbedded itself during a brutal campaign that had claimed the lives of many. As Mikala approached, Commander Noa Laotanner adjusted the treadmill’s settings to a brisk walk, but the woman was barely breathing hard. “You brought the letter?”
“Yes ma’am.” Mikala drew a mini-datapad from her coat pocket and unfolded it. “Shall I read it?”
“Yes.” The woman never looked at her.
“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Yatter, it is with great regret that... “
“Regret? What do I have to regret?” The commander’s voice was sharp.
“Uh, you regret that he died,” Mikala replied uneasily.
“No, I don’t. I didn’t kill him.” Shoes continued to smack the belt as the commander spoke, “He died of his own foolishness. Remove that word.”
“O-okay.” After a few tapes on the holographic screen, she continued, “I must inform you that your son died in the line of duty serving his...”
“Stop. Edit that line. He wasn’t serving his duty. He was ducking out from his duties.”
Mikala stared incredulously at her CO. “So you want me to write that he died while failing in his job?”
“That’s what happened.” Noa turned off the treadmill and stepped off taking a towel from a bench and hooking it around her neck.
“But ma’am, this letter is to tell his parents that their son is dead. Wouldn’t a little civility or... decency be a good idea to have in this letter?”
“No amount of decency or civility is going to soften blow of losing a child,” Noa replied as she dried the sweat off her neck and face. “Continue.”
More revisions followed that made Mikala feel like a horrible person in writing the blunt almost cruel words in a letter meant to console. Not even the sight of Winter’s shirtless body could chase away the ugly feeling. Once the CO signed the letter with her approval, Mikala hastily left feeling tired enough to desire returning to bed. When she exited the workout station, she halted.
A loud cheer with applause went up as the volley ball was punted into the air over a lowered net and was deftly punted back by the yellow pony. Over a dozen crew members were standing at the court watching the game between pony and human. The pony bounced the ball off her head, pushing up on her hind legs to send the ball back over the net where one of the earlier volley ball players was waiting. It happily watched the ball and galloped to where it would land and punted it back with her head. Mikala watched amazed and moved to where Shannon was clapping her hands from bench. “How did this happen?”
“I set the little darling on the floor to walk and the ball went foul. She ran over and started playing with it, bouncing it off her head and onto the floor. I swear, she was trying to bounce it back to the players. So they started playing with her, sending the ball back and forth until someone had the idea of lowering the net to let her play volley ball.” Shannon pointed at some men standing in the far corner shouting encouragement. “They have a betting pool on who is going to win this game. First one gets 10 points wins.”
“Wow,” was the only word that Mikala could muster watching this bizarre scene.
The game lasted twenty minutes longer and the pony won by two points. The crowd cheered with applause and some even going ‘aww’ as the pony leapt around in delight as if sensing that she was the winner. She was sweaty, her sides heaving as she panted and before Mikala could retrieve her, she trotted to a water fountain and reached up on her hind legs, her forehooves reaching up to the dispenser. Mikala quickly stepped up behind the pony and lifted her up.
Before she could maneuver the thirsty animal under her arm to push the button to make the water flow, the pony pushed a hoof down on the round metal button and leaned forward to drink. The yeoman stared amazed at how quickly this creature learned by watching
“How did it go? Did she eat you up and spit you out?” Shannon asked as she waited for her turn at the water.
“More like she tore out my heart and ate it in front of me.” Mikala stepped back when the pony had her fill of water. “You should read the condolence letter she had me write. It’s more like an... insult than anything else. I can’t send it off without feeling like I’d go to hell.”
“Did you know Yatter?”
“Not really. I know he was new to the SSV Heller, but he had served on other ships before. He wasn’t green like me.” She tucked the pony against her chest, letting her rest “Still, it’s bad when someone dies like that. Even though he wasn’t where he was supposed to be when it happened, his family deserves better.”
“The commander is a hard woman. She’s been at war for so long that death and tragedy is as common to her as air.” She bent down and kissed the pony square on the nose. “You ought to name this one. She looks like a Scarlett to me with this red hair.”
“Maybe, I need to see if Dr. Tibbs is available. She’s probably going to cuss me out for letting this one play with a wound.”
After bidding goodbye to Shannon, Mikala continued her day. Dealing with Dr. Tibbs wasn’t pleasant.
The doctor gave her a verbal beating for allowing the pony to have such strenuous activity, but gave her a clean bill of health, gave her a quick bath to rinse off the sweat, and changed the bandages.
Mikala took lunch in the mess. She arranged for a salad with crumbled granola bars for the pony.
“Hey, Miss Briggs.”
Mikala looked up to see the large dark frame of Chief Engineer Brian Crenshaw. He was a large man with broad shoulders. He wasn’t large with muscle like Winter, but of solid fat. “Hello, Mr. Crenshaw.”
“I heard that you haven’t shipped Yatter’s things back. I wanted to give ya this to ship back to his folks.” He held out a credit chit. “It’s Yatter’s pay and some money I owed him from a game we played.”
“Um, I thought you didn’t gamble.” She had recalled from his file that he was a recovering gambling addict.
“Well. . . Yatter’s folks ain’t too well off and his folks could use the money more than I do.”
“That’s very generous of you. Did you know him well?” She glanced down when she felt a small weight on her leg. The pony had finished her meal and was reared back on her legs with forehooves on her knees. She gave the pony a scratch between the ears, her eyes on Crenshaw, more focused on the conversation.
“He was alright. He was good at his job, got along well with the others, but he did make mistakes. And one of those mistakes did cost him his life.” Crenshaw rubbed the back of his neck as was his habit when the topic made him uncomfortable. “If he had been at his station, he woulda known about the attack and woulda taken precautions. But we can regret and cry about what coulda or shoulda been, he’ll still be dead.”
A low whine from the floor and digging at her leg from a pair of small hooves and Mikala looked down to see a pair of pleading orange eyes. “What is it?”
A hoof raised and reached toward the small cupcake container that came with the packaged meal. It was sitting on the corner of the table near her elbow.
“You can’t have this.” Mikala shook her head, “It’ll make you sick.”
The response was a low whine followed by nickers and soft sounds the pony often made. Mikala turned back to Crenshaw, “Sorry about that, and thanks for the bed for her. She was very comfortable last night.”
“It was no big deal. The drone’s shelling was too damage for repair so it was put to better use.”
There was a loud clop and Mikala saw two yellow hooves hook over the edge of the table and a yellow face with red hair hauled up. Large orange eyes focused greedily upon the cupcake and a hoof edged towards it.
“I said no!” Mikala put a hand on the cupcake, grabbing the pony by the scruff and setting her firmly on the ground. She moved the treat away from the table’s edge. “Sorry, sorry, she’s a stubborn little thing.”
The pony’s hooves stomping on the floor could be heard as Crenshaw chuckled, “Jest like a kid, eh?”
“You have no idea. Don’t worry, I’ll send the chit amount with the condolence letter personally.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. I need to head back down to engineering. The team and I are taking this down time to perform a maintenance check from top to bottom.”
They bid each other goodbye and just as Mikala returned her attention to her meal, the yellow pony clambered onto the table from the other side, grabbing the cupcake in her mouth and took a leap off the table. She would have made it too if an skinny figure with colorful arms hadn’t snagged her from the air. “Whoa, Miki, ya launchin’ yellow missiles?”
The woman grasping a wriggling pony was short, just toping five foot with bright tattooed arms. Exotic flowers, dragons, and symbols covered her arms from wrist to shoulder. At her next was a tribal tattoo, a tangled thorny vine ensnaring her throat. Her face was held cosmetic modifications as well.
Her left nostril held a gold hoop while small studs lined an eyebrow. Right beneath her lower lip, a diamond stud nestled above her chin. The marine’s hair was shorn, bald with only dark stubble along her scalp. Mikala wondered what Corporal Linda Acer Belgard would look like without the tattoos or the piercings.
“So sorry about that.” Mikala stood reaching for the pony. “I think I’m going to have to put her on a leash from now on.” Mikala snatched the cupcake from the pony’s mouth and slapped it on the table. She wrenched the pony around to face her, her nose inches from its snout. “You stop it right now. You’ll eat it up and throw it up on the floor, so settle down before I start practicing corporal punishment on your ass.”
“Whoa, you’re starting to sound like my mom without the accent.” Corporal Belgard ruffled the red name. “Give her a break. I’m sure a bite isn’t going to hurt her. If she throws up, just get Carther to clean it up, he owes me one.”
Mikala settled the pony on her lap. The little animal had a dark look on her face with her orange eyes narrowed. “I can’t do that; she’ll think I’m rewarding her.”
“Give her here.” Belgard held out her hands, palms up. Mikala handed the pony over to the corporal. The bald woman simply flipped the pony upside down, holding her by the hind legs while her fore legs dangled in the air. Then the woman pressed her mouth to the pony’s belly and blew hard emitting a loud raspberry. The pony shrieked and began squeaking happily as she swung from Belgard’s grasp.
“What are you doing?” Mikala stared, amazed. Belgard was a tough woman who has easily tossed men twice her size across the mat during training and now here she was blowing raspberries on a pony’s belly.
“I grew up with a big family. I often had to do this with my little sisters to cheer them up. She just reminds me of a little kid.” Belgard tossed the pony in the air so high that it was wonder that thing didn’t smacked the ceiling. Before Mikala could cry out in horror, the marine expertly caught it about the middle just an instant before she would hit the table at full speed. Then she plopped the yellow thing over her shoulder scooping up the cupcake and peeling off the plastic cover.
Belgard popped the cupcake from the container taking half of it for herself in one bite and giving the rest to the pony. Watching both of them chewing up the chocolate, with the human looking like a punk rocker and the cute pony that looked as if she belonged on wallpaper for a nursery chewing side by side was too much. The yeoman giggled so hard, her eyes watered and her side ached.
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Applebloom couldn’t remember when she had so much fun before. The game, exploring, and the silly creature with the cutie marks on her arms ticking her with her mouth and now she was playing dress up with the clothes she found near the closet. One of them was a silky white dress with thin straps for the shoulder. Where it would fit an adult pony easily, it hung about her dragging beneath her hooves almost tripping her every other step.
Her caretaker was at a desk across the room working at something. She kept staring at a screen with words on it, but the words change as her fingers move. It was like some sort of strange magic for those with fingers. The tall creature looked tired, as she worked on her project, but there was a determine set to her eyes. Whatever it was she was writing, Applebloom assumed that it was very important.
She flopped onto the bed, staring up at the celling noticing that it was solid like a single piece of metal, not the slides of wood on her bedroom ceiling. Then it sunk in as she realized that she had spent a full day away from home. She deflated on the bed, her forelegs down at her sides, and her eyes tearing up. She had forgotten all about going home and her homesickness was overwhelming.
She curled onto her side with the creature’s dress bunching around her. Her fun was forgotten as she tried hard not to cry. Tomorrow, she would find a way to tell her caretaker that she needed to go home.
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Mikala Briggs hit the send icon on the screen, sending off the rewritten condolence letter along with the money amount on the chit. She had been surprised by the large amount Crenshawn had put on the chit. Perhaps Crenshaw was being a bit too generous with his money for someone he had only known a short time. Nonetheless, it was his money and he could do whatever he wanted with it. But the letter, she changed.
She had nearly sent the one she dubbed as ‘cold’ off, but her heart just wouldn’t allow her to press send. She spent the last hour writing it, going over each word carefully due to the heavy weight it carried telling Yatter’s family that he was no longer alive. That they wouldn’t receive him back with stories of his service, but just his corpse prepared for any funeral rites they may practice. The body was still in the morgue kept in a freezer where it will be shipped back once they were in Havensguard space.
She turned her chair toward the bed where the pony had fallen asleep . . . wearing her chemise. A quick look to the closet confirmed that pony had been in her closet. Her clothes had been pulled off the racks and scattered across the floor. “Such a hellion."
Where she would have felt rage at her things being ransacked, she surprised herself by not even being mad. She didn’t even feel peeved that she had to gather up the scattered clothes and put them away. The pony was too cute to be angry with for long. In fact, she was getting inspiration.
After putting away the clothing, she dug around in the back for a case that she had put there when she joined the ship a month ago. Inside the case were small nick-knacks from home; entertainment vids, music chips, books, and a drawing pad with drawing pencil set.
She collected the pad and pencils, scooted the chair closer to the bed and began sketching.