H'ven Sent

by otherunicorn

Chapter 22. Crimson Liquid

Life has its surprises. Usually they pop up when they are least wanted. Mostly they are something I could do without. I don't think I really liked them much. This one was no exception!

As Cacha and I had rounded a curve rather near to the welded-up front entrance to Brainstorm's Advanced Weapons Development Laboratories we had come across a party of ponies traveling in the opposite direction. While we were not expecting to see them, the reverse was not true. They were down here looking for us! Their intentions, on the most part, were pure... or should I say, were to purify: a little bit of ethnic cleansing never hurt anypony, did it? It was for the good of all, wasn't it? How could these fools believe this perversion?

Bullets zinged off the wall behind us as the ponies opened fire. So, Cacha's death squads were still a reality. Yelping, Cacha and I both leaped out of their line of fire, heading back in the direction from which we had come. I wasn't quick enough to avoid taking a shot in the rump. It stung, felt like I'd been whacked with a hammer and was piercing all at the same time. The shock wave traveled through my whole body, causing me to stumble. Armored or not, it seemed I wasn't bullet proof! I could hear their hoofsteps as the gunners continued to advance. I hadn't got a good look at them, but I estimated there were five of them, four clad in black armor, the fifth, to the rear, red in color. I felt Cacha's shoulder against mine as she steered me out of the main walkway of the corridor into a small alcove towards our right. I hit the floor just as we made it into the shelter. Immediately, I scrambled about so I was facing the danger.

"Stop firing!" one of the ponies in the attacking group barked. "I wish to speak to them." Still stunned, it took me a moment to realize he was yelling at his own ponies.

Another burst was fired in our direction, even though Cacha and I were managing to stay out of sight. The alcove offered immediate shelter, without which we would not have survived, the alternative was to continue down a more-or less straight corridor in which we would have been easy targets. Had I not been shot, we may have made it to a further intersection before the death squad were far enough around the immediate curve to see us. As it was, we were trapped here unless something went in our favor really soon.

"I commanded you to stop firing!" the voice barked again.

"Stuff you, office boy, we have orders that supersede any you give," one stallion snapped back. "We were just using your assistance to track the Hellspawn down."

"Fuck you, then!" the pony yelled. I could hear a scuffle break out, presumably between the speakers.

"Aneki, if that's you, RUN!" the first voice bellowed. Now, I recognized that voice: Crimson! Unfortunately he didn't quite grasp that we didn't have anywhere we could run to without getting more holes shot in us. I heard another shot fired, but this time nothing hit the walls near us. They must have just shot Crimson! Bastards!

Meanwhile, I could feel Cacha rummaging through my saddle bags. She was muttering "Bandages, bandages," as she did. Suddenly my pistol landed in front of me. "Shoot gas at them or something. Threaten them. Make them stop advancing," she suggested. That was a bloody good idea.

I didn't bother with the pistol though, instead reaching for my integral weapon as I scrambled to get into a reasonable firing position. Luminescent gas wouldn't be up to this task, but a variant of the spell with which I had blown away the wall of Brainstorm's shooting gallery could do. Noise and smoke. Shock waves. Things that should scare. Calling up the spell, I quickly changed some of the parameters, dropping the size of shots to a fraction of what I had used before, deliberately putting a depth limit on the penetration. I also restricted the effect to non-living materials. The result should look like I was firing explosive rounds. Even if I hit the enemy, I would not seriously harm them, but the same did not apply to their armor. No matter what I thought of them, I still didn't want to kill any pony.

I didn't bother to target any pony, not that I could see any of them at the moment. Rather, I just aimed as far around the curve as I could see from where I lay, selected a section of wall to shoot at, and let rip with half a dozen shots. The cussing and scrambling suggested it was having the desired effect, so I leaned out just far enough to see one of the hit squad, targeted his armor and fired half a dozen shots at him. The result was spectacular, with small patches of his armor exploding off each time I hit, and each small explosion behaved much like a round hitting him, knocking him back a little. At most his physical injuries would be a few bruises and a bit of smoke inhalation, but it would be sure to have put some fear into him.

I pulled back into the safety of the alcove again. Cacha pressed a wad of cloth to my wound and held it firmly. It hurt like hell!

"Stop squirming and give your body the chance to heal!" she snapped.

"This is a combat zone, Cacha," I responded, exasperated. "There is no point worrying about one bullet hole if it causes me to gain another dozen of them."

"Just hold still for ten seconds. That will be long enough for it to stop the bleeding," she suggested, her voice strained. "There is point in worrying about a bullet hole if ignoring it causes you to bleed to death... and I thought you only had pretty gases for that gun!"

I pointed at the pistol lying where she had dropped it. "Different gun," I stated. Actually, it was the same gun I had used when I was firing the gas at her, but long winded explanations could wait until later.

"Are you a soldier or a combat specialist or something?" Cacha asked as another burst of bullets ricocheted off the nearby wall, causing her to instinctively duck.

As I was already lying on the floor, I couldn't get any lower. Ricochet! Now there was an idea. My ammunition didn't do that as it reacted with the first surface it hit, exploding if that surface was non-living, or dissipating if it was pony flesh. More bullets ricocheted into our alcove as I finished making some modifications to the spell. The targeting portion of the weapons system spells would still work, as I would be targeting areas of the wall which I could see. Where the spell bounced after that was down to geometry. A quick scan through the system parameters revealed a repeating fire option that Brainstorm had neglected to mention, so I enabled that, then aiming at the wall, I pulled the trigger and held it down as I swept my aim.

The resultant cacophony of small explosions and loud exclamations was satisfying. I heard the ponies retreating rapidly.

"You've done this before, haven't you," Cacha asked.

"Are you kidding me?" I responded. "I've spent a short stint in a shooting range. I've only had these things for a week or so, and I've not used them in that time, except to make pretty patterns, oh, and to shoot you. I'm a structural engineer! Now, have I stopped bleeding enough that I can move?"

I felt Cacha lift the wad of cloth. The pressure didn't return. "Yes, the blood flow has stopped. Don't forget that you still have a bullet in there wreaking havoc with your every move, so go gently!"

Remaining on the floor, I scooted myself forward carefully so I could see where the death squad was. Nearby, the crimson pony was lying in a pool of a similarly colored liquid, while the other four were somewhat further away, crouched and aiming at my position. I shuffled back as another burst was fired in my direction. I returned the favor. I couldn't keep this up for much longer, or they would realize my shots were harmless. I needed something to knock them out. Concussion. That should do it. I adjusted the projectile diameter of my spell upwards, while leaving the restriction on the penetration. That way I wouldn't damage any of the structure significantly, but the explosive reactions would create quite a shock wave. In effect, I would be turning the paint and corrosion on the walls, as well as thin layers of their armor and weapons, into explosives.

I scooted forward again, pulling the trigger as I did. Three rounds immediately thudded into my forelegs, causing a massive explosion of pain, but I psychologically waded through the instinctive reactions, and held my aim as best I could. I could feel the resultant shock waves as the explosions threw the ponies of the death squad around like rag dolls. I released the trigger when I could no longer see them for billowing smoke, and giving into the agony, I sagged onto the floor.

I lay there while Cacha fussed over me, wrapping my wounded legs with strips torn from the old overcoat, my brain replaying the events. All those explosions sure would be making the structural vibration detectors up in the office carry on a treat! And Central's were even more sensitive. After all, Crimson had come down to investigate when I had opened a door, let alone... oh, shit. I'd led the bastards right to myself, hadn't I? Or more specifically, I had led them to this area by blowing a hole in Brainstorm's shooting gallery. The ponies from Central must have been sniffing around the area for a week, trying to find it!

My mind eventually caught up with my last view of the corridor before the smoke had blocked everything from sight. Crimson! What had happened to him? Last time I saw him, he was down and bleeding, if not dead!

"Cacha! Can you see the red pony out there? What happened to him? Did my explosions get him?" I gasped.

"I don't know. It's still pretty smoky. It's a bit risky to go looking, too," she replied.

"Screw that. Help me up," I insisted. "He needs help!"

"But... can you trust him? He and his buddies were shooting at us," she pointed out as she gathered my belongings and stuffed them back into my saddlebags.

"Yes, I trust him. He wasn't shooting. He was the one objecting. Help me up, please," I repeated, struggling to rise myself.

"Okay..." Cacha conceded, immediately coming to my assistance, helping me onto my hooves. My integral gun folded itself out of the way, just as the pistol it was mimicking would have done. The pain was intense, but I managed to stabilize myself, and slowly shuffle my way forward, leaning on Cacha as I went. I heard coughing nearby, so I immediately lifted my gun, aiming it towards the noise. After another bout of coughing, and some exclamations using some pretty choice words, the pony spoke to me from within the smoke cloud.

"Aneki, is that you?" Crimson asked.

"It is," I responded.

"Thank Luna for that. What about the other ponies?" he asked as he appeared through the smoke. He was hobbling along on three legs, pressing the fingers of his fourth against his flank, blood slowly oozing out between them.

"Cacha is with me. The ones that were with you are further down the corridor, and hopefully unconscious," I responded.

"You didn't kill them?" Crimson asked, his tone hard to read.

"Of course not. I don't kill," I answered.

"More's the pity," Crimson muttered. "Backstabbing bastards. The supposed purpose of this mission was that I was to open a dialogue with the Hellspawn to see if we could negotiate their return. I can see now that I was nothing more than a convenient pawn to be used to track you down."

"You found me because of that explosion a few days back, didn't you?" I asked.

Crimson nodded. "It was hard to miss."

"Cacha, see if you can help bind Crimson's wound. He looks like he's lost a lot of blood," I suggested.

"But what about you?" Cacha objected.

"Help me down onto the floor again. That will take the weight off my legs."

"Oh, okay," Cacha agreed, assisting me to lie down again. Once down, I readied my gun again, aiming it towards the dissipating smoke cloud, and where I estimated the death squad would be. At the moment they were silent.

As Cacha went to assist Crimson, he continued with his story.

"We sent someone down to investigate, but he couldn't access the location of the blast. After he reported back, I had a closer look at the recent data, and was able to trace your movements through the doors you kicked down, the above-average vibrations caused by you jumping down the decommissioned stair case, and the opening of the doors in the stairwell near here. We've been down here a couple days now, hunting around for a way to get nearer to the blast site because we haven't been able to get the door to one of the restricted areas to open, of course. The other one is in as much of a mess as you left it."

Hmm... Brainstorm hadn't let any pony into their lab, either to assist them, or to use as experimental subjects. I really hoped they were still all right.

"How badly are you wounded, Aneki?" Crimson asked.

"Four bullets," I responded. "One in my butt, two in my left foreleg, one in my right. It makes standing a challenge. And you?"

"Got one in the guts. I probably have internal injuries and bleeding too. Feeling pretty light headed. I'm as good as dead, unless you have a surgeon tucked away here somewhere."

"Could you live with becoming a Hellite, a Hellspawn?" I asked.

"Huh? Hmm... obviously I can't go back up top now as Central would finish the job these bastards started," Crimson muttered, "so technically I could consider that an option. Why?"

"You'd heal quicker if you were a Hellite. That may help saving you. It would also give you an alternate place to live..." I gasped as my wounds reminded me they were there. After the pain receded a little, I continued. "Get us... to the restricted area. The one with the messed up sign. The reprobates inside may be able to help us, assuming I can't help myself. You, at least, need their assistance."

"That's as good as I can bandage you," Cacha announced. "I can't help you any more than that, other than to turn you into one of us."

"Thank you. Now, if you could grab the weapons and mappers from the other four bastards, we'll get out of here," Crimson said, looking through the thinning haze at the heap of bodies further down the corridor.

"Dangerous, much," Cacha muttered.

"The door to the stairwell is down there, just beyond them, so we may as well salvage the equipment as we go past, not to mention that confiscating it from them it will severely limit what they can do. For starters, it would stop them requesting assistance. Aneki, are you sure we can't just shoot them?"

"It really wouldn't do much to help us, would it?" I asked. "All I see it doing is making Central even more determined to catch and kill us."

"Good point. Cacha, is it? Kick them hard if they so much as flinch," Crimson suggested.

"My pleasure," Cacha responded. "Even if these were the last stallions alive, I'd be more than happy to stomp them. No fucking way they get into our gene pool," she stated as she trotted off towards them.

"Huh?" Crimson asked me.

"Long story," I said, "but the summary is she's up here to recruit males for breeding purposes."

"Aaaaah," Crimson said, a knowing smile forming on his lips.

It appeared Cacha wasn't taking chances with the death squad waking because she gave each of them several solid kicks before she began to strip each of their kit. She wasn't stopping at their guns and mappers either. Their armor and supplies were also being taken. It was about time I got moving. She would be finished stripping them by the time I got down there if I waited any longer.

Struggling to my hooves, unassisted this time, I tried a couple of steps. It was rather painful. I seriously considered dropping back to the floor and scooting myself along with my rear legs despite the bullet in my butt, but before I did that, there was one other thing I wanted to try. I reabsorbed my gun, before reforming it on my left foreleg, the more wounded of the two. I formed it as a long barrel weapon, rigidly attached to the length of my limb, effectively splinting it. I tried a couple of steps, somewhat pleased with the result.

"What the hell did you just do?" Crimson asked, eyes wide, as he watched the changes to my configuration. "Or have I lost so much blood I am hallucinating?"

"I grew a splint," I responded. "Hellite bodies are variable, mine doubly so, because I've been enhanced. If I could get my mind past the pain, I could probably eject the bullets from the wounds myself. Maybe if I wait, the body will do it for me automatically. It has already dealt with the bleeding."

"You don't know?" Crimson asked.

"It didn't come with an instruction book," I muttered. "C'mon, let's get to the lab."

---

Comments

[Beegee]

Heheh, Crimson ain't got any objections to that deal, eh?

[Viking ZX]

I want one of those guns. Variable ammo on that level? Useful!

Sounds like Brainstorm was smart enough not to let anyone restricted in. Now that they have what Brainstorm wants, we could see some interesting chapters ahead.

Hopefully Crimson makes it.

[TheStratovarian]

An interesting tale, and certainly one read i've found quite enjoyable. Here's to hoping your muse holds well.

[Nyerguds]

I felt Cacha lift the wad of cloth. The pressure didn't return. "Yes, the blood flow has stopped. Don't forget that you still have a bullet in there wreaking havoc with your every move, so go gently!"

Getting a bullet out of armoured skin and flesh that repairs itself in seconds... yea, I can tell that's not going to be much fun, at all

"Long story," I said, "but the summary is she's up here to recruit males for breeding purposes."

"Aaaaah," Crimson said, a knowing smile forming on his lips.

Looks like someone doesn't seem to mind that part too much, lol

[Butterwings]

4629922 Well if it repairs itself from the inside out the bullet is obviously just gonna get pushed out

[Nyerguds]

6166988
It clearly didn't do that immediately, though. But as Aneki says later, "Maybe if I wait, the body will do it for me automatically. It has already dealt with the bleeding."

[Fourpony]

Armored or not, it seemed I wasn't bullet proof!

Gonna have to dig the fucker out too.

Three rounds immediately thudded into my forelegs, causing a massive explosion of pain

The Hellite body must be resistant to pain like it is damage. Someone new to this stuff wouldn't really be able to function that will without some modifications.

All those explosions sure would be making the structural vibration detectors up in the office carry on a treat!

Can they also track the Hellite elevators?

I readied my gun again, aiming it towards the dissipating smoke cloud, and where I estimated the death squad would be.

Smart, unless they are dead or personally tied up and within eyesight, don't let the enemy have a chance to recover.

"Aaaaah," Crimson said, a knowing smile forming on his lips.

His mind is just thinking sex.