//------------------------------// // Salt // Story: Red Comet // by Aragem //------------------------------// *WARNING: There are some severe swearing in this chapter. Two F bombs will be used. As much as Twilight Sparkle worried for Applebloom, her concern for Applejack was increasing with every step they took. When the search began, Applejack had pep to her step and a determination set to her eyes and ears as she marched forward calling Applebloom’s name. She continued with this energy until midday, and then her ears lowered as they continued and then her eyes softened from being sharp and seeking to looking almost lost and afraid. It unnerved her to see Applejack like this. The farm mare had always been so strong no matter the circumstance whether it was to face down Nightmare Moon, climbing a mountain to wake up a sleeping dragon, or dealing with the trickery of Discord. But this was different, they weren’t going off to face down a treat to Equestria, it was smaller, but more desperate than that. A foal was missing in a forest known to be merciless and terribly dangerous. Though Applebloom had run off on her own into the Everfree Forest before, but she had always been found shortly afterward. Now it’s almost been a full day and Applebloom has not been found. She and Fluttershy exchange glances when the sun was getting close to the horizon. They had at least an hour before they would have to return lest they wander lost in the darkness, but neither of them wanted to broach the subject with Applejack. Twilight Sparkle was the braver one. “Applejack, maybe, we should.... head back?” “Not yet. We still got light.” Applejack looked down a slope. “We’ll find her soon.” She had been saying this since the search began. When it had first been said, it was confidant assurance towards them, but now it sounded like a plea. “We need to use that light to go back. We’ll look along the way back to see if we missed anything.” The orange mare stomped her hoof in agitation, “What if she’s jest ahead? We turn back now and we miss her and she’s out here alone for another night.” “We’ll find her, I promise.” Twilight swallowed a lump in her throat. She had a terrible feeling that might be making a promise that cannot be kept. “Um... yes... we’ll find her tomorrow,” Fluttershy whispered. “Somethin’ happened to her.” Applejack’s voice held a strain tone as a rubber band about to snap. “Why else won’t she jest come on home? She’s hurt somewhere, or somethin’ has her or...or...” It couldn’t be said, it mustn’t be said. Saying it would make the idea, the thought too solid for them. It was inconceivable to them, but the threat of it was there and instead of a threat, it may just be inevitable. “Please, Twilight, jest a little longer.” “Okay, we’ll look longer.” They didn’t find Applebloom. It was nearly pitch black by the time they had returned to Zecora’s hut. The search parties came back with nothing. Ponies returned to their homes. Twilight arranged for the volunteers to return tomorrow to begin the search anew. Rarity led the two remaining Cutie Mark Crusaders back to Ponyville while consoling a tearful Sweetie Belle and keeping an eye on an angry Scootaloo. Applejack remained at Zecora’s hut for the night. She couldn’t face returning to a farm that, in Granny Smith’s words, had one less apple in the bushel. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mikala didn’t sleep well, in fact there was a lot of nights when she would wake several times in the night and go back to sleep. Or she would drift in and out of dreams of her usually being chased or harassed by something dark and frightening. But this night was different. She dreamt about her little pony instead. In her dream, when the mission as over, she took the pony home with her. She saw her running across the grass in the meadow where the power generating windmills were maintained by her grandparents. Her red tail trailing behind her as a red flag in the wind as her small legs carried her with the wind. Then she saw her running along the candy shelf in the local food store grabbing candy and sweetie packages and tossing them into a buggy despite’s Mikala’s protests and stern warnings. She also saw her pony meeting her grandparents and family. When the ship’s computer woke her up, she consciously realized that she wanted this little thing that was where her chemise curled up against her legs. She wanted to take her home and make her part of the family. She had come to love this small animal that crashed into her life. “Yeoman Briggs, please report to the Commander’s office.” She opened her eyes, seeing nothing but the vague shadows on the walls. She closed her eyes and opened them again, trying to banish the sleep that clung to her. “Yeoman Briggs, please report to the Commander’s office.” She rolled over and put her feet on the floor then began rubbing her face. She glanced at the time. The digital clock glowed a bright 3:00 AM. What the hell? “Yeoman Briggs, please report to the Commander’s office.” “I heard you, Iris.” The ship's computer carried a high feminine voice that spoke in monotone. “Tell them I am on my way.” “Very well, Yeoman Briggs.” Mikala checked on the pony as she dressed. The pony was still curled up snug in the chemise still asleep. She had a passing thought of cutting the chemise short to fit her since she seemed to like wearing it to sleep. However, would doing so encourage the pony to tear through her closet again to find something she would want cut down to her size. The yeoman had a terrible vision of her 200 dollar dress at home having the sleeves ripped and the long skirt shredded to fit a pony that’ll run with it through a mud puddle. Mikala just had this feeling that if a mud puddle manifests itself in the ship the pony would run through it without hesitation. When Mikala was comfortable with her appearance, uniform unwrinkled and her hair neatly combed, she left her room. The halls were empty at this late hour save for a few techs on duty to perform overnight diagnostics. When she arrived on the command deck, Dr. Tibbs was waiting for her. The woman’s medical uniform was wrinkled and the medical practitioner looked worn with the wrinkles on her face looking deeper than when Mikala last saw her. She saw her and walked firmly toward her, “You really stepped in it now.” “What happened?” Miaka paused, her boots emitting a soft squeak from her sudden stop. “The commander is furious.” Dr. Tibb’s eye glasses flashed in the overhead light. Her thin lips were in a tight line as if she had tasted something nasty. “What has she said?” “She hasn’t said anything because she’s saving it all for you.” Dr.Tibbs pushed her glasses up her nose. “Here some advice: say as little as possible and respond with yes ma’am or no ma’am. Just be a young bride with an overzealous groom on her wedding night, just lay there and take it.” “What is she so mad about!?” Mikala was becoming more and more fearful as the doctor spoke. “I don’t know, you tell me. You’ve done something that the entire military of Havensguard knows not to do. You pissed her off. They say when you fuck with Noa Laotaner, she fucks you in the end.” With that, Dr. Tibbs walked down the hall leaving the horrified yeoman behind. Mikala nearly followed her and she entertained the thought of going back to her room and locking the door or just leaving the ship period. Just leaving and going native on the planet like some female Robinson Crusoe. She approached the door and rapped the door with a heavy hand. The doors slid apart and stepped inside into a dim room. She barely got inside before the door shut behind her. The office was of medium size and lacked decorum. Across from her was a wide desk of which Commander Laotaner sat with fingers steeple between her chin and firm look in icy blue eyes. “Mikala Briggs,” Laotaner spoke her name evenly and slowly as if memorizing it. “Mikala Briggs, how are we doing? Did we get any late night work done?” “Uh, I did do some work earlier, yes.” Then it finally sunk in and her blood turned to ice water. A finger tapped loudly on the edge of a datapad before it was pushed across the table toward her. “Working on this, I suppose?” Mikala dropped her eyes and saw the condolence letter she had sent off hours prior glowing on the interface screen. “Yes ma’am.” “That’s funny. I thought we had already worked on it before and I signed it. All you really had to do was send it off. Upload it onto your console and press send. But I look at it now and it seemed that these changes we agreed to aren’t there. In fact, I dare say you made changes that I didn’t agree to.” Her palms felt hot and clammy while her heart thrust against her chest in mad beats. She looked up above Laotaner’s head with her eyes taking in the collection of paper bound books lining a shelf mounted to the wall. She was numb, just that cold calm before the terror consumes her. “If you weren’t happy with my changes, you could spoke to me about it.” Laotaner leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “B-but I did! I protested against the changes!” “No, you made weak simpering little noises about it, but cave when I pushed.” Laotaner leaned forward her eyes studying Mikala as if she were an interesting insect. “And you went behind my back, your CO’s back, and rewrote the condolence letter. It makes me wonder what else you’ve rewritten or changed. Maybe my report on the attack that resulted in Yatter’s death got the Briggs version?” “No! No ma’am! I would never. . .” “But you did. You changed my words without my permission and used my signature on it. That’s fraud and forgery in one shot with disobeying a commanding officer’s order.” Laotaner laced her finges together on her desk. “Did you not know that nothing happens on my ship without my knowledge? Did you not think or know of protocol that when military vessel is in potential enemy space that all information sent to and from ship is cataloged and copied and made accessible by the commander to be viewed as necessary?” Oh shit. How has she been so stupid? That was standard procedure on any vessel. If she only just sent the letter as it was. To hell with civility, her ass is on the line because of it. “And another thing.” Laotaner wasn’t finished yet. “Yatter was an imbecile. He was a drunk, and ducked out his duties to the ship and I was planning on having him transferred out. However, despite this, he was a crewmember of my ship and I take care of my crew. And I have more than one sent out condolence letters for fallen members using the generic condolence letter template provided by the ship’s archive. I already sent Yatter’s letter myself the day he died. Did you honestly think I was callous enough to send such a horrible letter to his family?” “Wh-what? You. . . you already sent the letter? But. . . why. . . why would you have me write one?” Mikala was confused as if she had been hit in the head with a blunt object. “Let me begin with that the position of yeoman is obsolete?” Laotaner set back, an imp’s smile on her lips. “Back a long time ago when mankind was bound to one planet, and they sailed the seas, a yeoman was needed to assist in the clerical work that the captain was too busy to attend to. Now we have AI assistants that can handle that for us. The position no longer needs to be filled by a human. Yet, it still remains as a position on every ship. You ever wonder why that is?” “I. . .I don’t know. Why?” Mikala felt as if she was being lead into a trap and there was no way to back out. “Every other position, but the yeoman position is filled by the chain of command, but the administrators who answer to the hooligans at the top select the yeoman of whom all proceeds, reports, and information passes through. Yeomen who can alert the admin office of any. . . ‘mischief’ from the ships.” “You think I was sent to spy on you? No!” Mikala could hear her pulse throbbing in her temples and the color bleed from her face. “No, not anymore. If you had been sent by my enemies on the council, you would have gleefully sent the letter along with a copy of it to the media alerting them to how callous I am toward my own crew to discredit me. You did speak up and caved, but spoke up nonetheless and you had my respect for a while, until I got this shit.” Laotaner thumped the edge of the datapad with a forefinger. “Not even a spy would have been stupid enough to try this.” So the whole thing in the gym had been a test and a test that she failed miserably. Why can’t the floor just open up and swallow her whole? “For this shit, I can put you in the brig for the duration of this mission where you will face a hearing upon our return to HQ.” The yeoman found it hard to breathe as panic was starting to take hold. All she did was change a letter to make it more sympathetic to the family. Was that so horrible that she should go to jail? “But I am not going to do that.” Laotaner tilted her head as she watched Mikala release a long held breath. “Because I’m certain that you are very very sorry and that will not happen again. Because if it does. . . something will happen where you’ll have nasty accident either from a fall like Yatter or a stray shot during a training exercise, at least, that’s what I’ll write in the condolence letter to your family. Now get the hell out of here and go play dress up with your pet pony.” As Mikala left the office, or one would say fled, she wondered how Commander Laotaner knew of her pony playing with clothes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sun rose above Ponyville signaling in the early morning. All the shops opened to offer their goods for any interested ponies. The Sugarcube Corner wafted a pleasant scent of baked sweets and treats as inside Mr. Carrot Cake took a tray of cupcakes from the back oven. He set them on a rack to cool before applying frosting and decoration. His wife was in the back tending to the twins. With Pinkie Pie in the hospital, there was extra work between the twins and running the bakery. His wife arrived with the twins riding in the carriers across her back. Since Pinkie wasn’t around to entertain the twins, Mrs. Cup Cake would put them in the carriers while she worked. It kept them out of the way while they work other than occasionally halting a floating cake from reaching Pumpkin’s Cake’s mouth. Tucked between her teeth was the morning newspaper of which she placed on the work table, “Isn’t it just sad? You know that Zebra ambassador that arrived at the Canterlot Palace the other day? Well, his little filly went missing. The Princess has the castle guards looking everywhere for the poor little dearie.” “I don’t know what’s going on in Equestria when little fillies can disappear. I hope they can find Applebloom today. I sent over donuts for the search party and I’d like to join ‘em, but I can’t leave you here along with the twins and the bakery, not with Pinkie Pie in the hospital.” “Her being away just makes me realize how much help she’s been around here.” Cup Cake gathered the frosting and put a firm hoof on container that had suddenly started to glow. “Pumpkin Cake, we don’t eat frosting this early in the morning.” “Let me do a quick taste test before we start decorating.” Carrot Cake selected a cupcake, blew on it to cool it off and then took a bite. He always tested the food just as it came from the oven for quality assurance. When the treat touched his tongue, he froze, his large green eyes going wide as saucers. He dropped the cupcake onto the table. “Is there a problem, dear?” Cup Cake tilted her head concerned for her husband. “Blaugh!” Carrot Cake spat out the bit which landed on the floor and held his tongue out as he galloped to the sink. He turned on the water to full and dunk his head into the sink, mouth open to rinse out his mouth. Cup Cake blinked, watching her spouse for a moment before taking the smallest of nibbles from the cupcake. She frowned unhappily and then glanced at the sugar bag which was still on the counter from when Carrot Cake baked a batch earlier. A moment after examining the bag, even taking a taste of the white grain, she came to a conclusion of her husband’s dilemma. “Someone swapped out the sugar for salt.” Carrot Cake gasped as he turned off the facet. “That bag had sugar in it, I know it. I used some of it yesterday.” “Well, someone came in the middle of the night.” Cup Cake checked the salt bag and sure enough, it had the sugar. “Yeah, someone came in without making a noise. You know how light a sleeper the twins are.” As much as he hated to, the batch he baked had to be tossed out. If he tried to sell these, they’d be run out of town. “And who would do this? Even Pinkie Pie wouldn’t do something like this.” Then it came to them. They both looked at each and spoke at once, “Mites.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Nao Laotaner took very little pleasure in berating someone. The yeoman had guts to rewrite the letter, but Nao respected obedience more than integrity. At least, she was now certain that simpering fool wasn’t assign to the ship to discredit her or taint her reputation. As if she needed anymore blows to her position after what happened in Shraxi. Thankfully, this mission will be nothing like Shraxi. It was a scouting mission to see if this planet was suitable for new base. Based on the agriculture samples, this planet would be suitable for a farming colony. Nao was sipping her black coffee when a voice chimed from her computer, “Commander Laotaner, we compiled the findings from the drones. . . it’s not good news.” Setting her coffee down, turned a frown toward the speaker. “Don’t sugarcoat it, just say it, Trevor.” “The planet has natives.” “Shit,” she hissed under her breath. If the planet was uninhabitable all the well and good, it was could be scouted and claimed by any race intelligent enough for space flight. “They are at a level B. So basically they are still below industrial age.” “That can either be good or bad for us.” Nao was feeling the beginning of a headache coming on. “It gets worse, ma’am.” “Goddammit, just go ahead and drop the other shoe.” There was a long hesitation and then the science officer said, “They’re ponies. A lot like the one Yeoman Briggs adopted.”