• Published 17th Sep 2016
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Millennia: Eye of the Storm - Thunderblast



Recovery can be tough, especially for those trained for long periods to endure stressful environments. In the months following the liberation of Manehattan, a Marine deeply affected continues his fight in a gradually-losing mental battle.

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41. The Calm Before the Storm - Part I

The vest-wearing sentinel shoved the gun to the back of my head, shouting, "Move!" His booming voice reverberated about the corridor and the stairwell as I unwillingly led the way down, maintaining a steady walking speed and ensuring to avoid any movement that might end with a bullet in my skull.

One or two times would I peek over my shoulder to be sure I was going exactly as ordered, and each time he would painfully force his pistol's barrel into my ear, in turn causing me to lurch forward to stay a few paces head of him. Doing so would keep me alive just a tad longer.

"In there," he snarled. I stopped, peering back at him. He motioned his gun to the second door down on the right. "Move it. Now."

Nodding as a show of acknowledgement, I kept moving until we reached the specific corridor. The moment I stepped hoof in the door jam, I froze in my tracks. Sitting on the floor, lined up against the wall with their hooves zip-tied behind their backs were a collection of five almost equally-built stallions, two or three of which still donning their dirty, torn uniforms. A couple of them had bloody rags stuffed in their mouths, preventing speech. Most of which were teary-eyed, and all around absolutely terrified. At some point very soon I would reach their level of angst, too, if not already.

"Get in there!" the pony commanded, giving a forceful push with his hoof. In that instance, I haven't the slightest of clues as to why, but my at-sea instincts kicked in and so did my boat legs. The shove added to my hooves locking up sent me tumbling to the floor, only to be snatched back up painfully by my mane at the will of a pure golden aura casting and tossed against the cement wall.

I bellowed a deep grunt upon impact and slid to a rest on the floor right on my flanks, where a pair of goons promptly held me still while a third quickly bound my forehooves first, followed by my hinds, before leaving me sitting upright beside the other captives, our backs to the wall.

As they finished up and withdrew, the stallion to have caught me stepped in their place, his sights glaringly set upon me. "Now, you shall do exactly as we say, when we say it, or we'll tear every last limb of your body off as slowly and painfully as you can possibly imagine, then we'll do worse."

***

"All right, Petty Officer, since you insist this couldn't wait, tell me. What happened to Corporal Star Shooter?" Shadow pressed his hooves together in a steeple, steadily eyeballing the shaky northern pegasus.

Across the table centered in the all-white room sat Anchorage, wearing a bowl-like hat wired to his temples with extensions taped along his chest and hooves. The small space was blindingly bright to the point where either pony suffered from light-induced headaches only two minutes after first stepping in and taking their seats, and was sided off on one wall with privacy glass that reflected the interior. The walls were padded similarly to an insane asylum, albeit for sound reduction.

Anchorage's left hoof tapped the tabletop out of nervous habit while his opposite jittered. His respiratory patterns were notably abnormal as suggested by chest movements. Shadow could tell the stallion was anxious about something, and what little information he had gotten out of him before agreeing to sit down in private had been enough to nab his undivided attention. It was even the petty officer's suggestion that he be hooked up to a polygraph and tested in a way that the captain could read the device's responses to everything he would soon say down to the bare words.

"We... we were..." he began, only to pause and take a somewhat noisily sip of water from the cup in front of him. Upon setting it back down, he continued. "We were on our way home from a night out at a local pub, talkin' and stuff, when w-we stumbled across some groaning in an alleyway. I told him to stay put and went in to check, and..." Anchorage nervously chuckled. "It may sound weird when I say it, but... I found the captain of the Alder, alone, dying on the ground."

Shadow's maw parted as he was about to counter the sailor's claims, but was ultimately silenced by a little green light and the tiniest of beeps emanating from the reader to the side of them. It signaled he was being truthful, much to the earth pony captain's surprise and now bewilderment. His dark brown cores lifted from the machine, meeting the icy blue irides of his subordinate. "Continue."

Anchorage inhaled to refresh his system, removing the tapping hoof and setting it on his thigh. "So, he is foaming at the mouth. Poisoned, I suspect. I yell at Star for him to call for help. I look up again, he's getting knocked down on the ground. I go to help him, same thing happens to me," he said with a shaky breath. "I wake up maybe two hours later where I was, no sign of Star, no sign of the captain."

For a second time, Shadow glanced over at the reader, and again, the results came back as positive. He acknowledged the notion that lie detector tests could, in fact, be manipulated, although that was typically the case for unicorns with the ability to conjure up a spell able to mask the basic needs to detect whether a pony is lying or not. Machines advanced enough to counteract these spells were still very far and few in between.

Despite the machine's readings, Shadow still took the opportunity to question. "You say you found the captain of the P.T.S. Alder in that alleyway, how can you be so certain it—"

The pegasus leaned forward, both hooves placed beside one another. He stared gravely right at the naval officer. "It was him, Captain. Even with very little light to go by, I made out his facial features. His voice, too."

To Shadow, something still didn't add up. "We sent him home back in April, roughly two weeks after the incident. Based on what I have heard since then, he is on administrative leave with the shipping company in charge of what used to be his vessel."

"I-I am aware of that!" snapped Anchorage, immediately prompting him to recoil and dip his head shamefully. "I can't explain it myself, but he was here. I'm tellin' you, he was!"

One other thing Shadow picked up on quickly was the fact that Anchorage's eyes would periodically dart between him and a security camera in one of the ceiling corners at his five o'clock, leading to hesitation. He furrowed an eyebrow slightly.

Noticing this sent the greyish-white pegasus into a fear and rage-induced frenzy. "What more do you want from me, god damn it?!" cried Anchorage, gesturing both of his hooves to his chest. "I realize fully this isn't enough to base around without witnesses, but we're running out of time!"

Shadow calmly motioned his hoof for the pegasus to curb his tone, temporarily placating his fellow sailor. "I'm afraid there isn't much we can do without eyewitness accounts or, really, anything else, Petty Officer."

A total breakdown on Anchorage's part was far from a common sight, or even the slightest signs of such. As he recalled, the last time it occurred was the sudden death of his father, but never had Shadow been around to witness. His service to Equestria shadowed the name switch to the Lunar Navy by five months, and in these six years come January, Anchorage's record retained a spotless track that only twenty percent of all active sailors preserved. He knew his stuff, Shadow had to credit him for that.

The pegasus rested his head face-down on the scratched and faintly dented metallic surface, looping both hooves around his head and the bowl-like hat atop his crown. His breaths were heavy and brief mixed with wet sniffling. With every exhale, he would shiver. Desperation was officially beginning to set in for only the second time in his life. First military police, and now it seemed as though his own commanding officer refused to take the situation into consideration.

After a few lengthy moments, Anchorage lifted his head to reveal the white of his eyes tinting a faint shade of pink. His hooves drenched with his own tears, and a strong inhale sucked in the snot running from his nostrils. He reached up and gently removed the taped wires and helmet, placing them off to the side, before making direct eye contact with Shadow.

"I'm sorry for wastin' your time, sir," he said quietly, voice becoming moderately hoarse in nature. He slid his chair back and stood to make his way out.

Shadow watched the pegasus stand before following suit and opening the door for Anchorage. "Please, allow me." Anchorage pinned his ears back and swallowed a heavy lump in his throat, unhurriedly looping around the interrogation table. "May I speak with you in private?" muttered Shadow, placing his hoof on Anchorage's shoulder as he slipped past.

The pegasus quickly halted at the touch of the captain's hoof, blinking as he turned his head. With a single bob of his head, he continued out ahead of Shadow, pacing himself to allow him to catch up.

***

A deep gasp drew in much-needed air to my lungs, as if I had been underwater for a prolonged period of time. My breaths settled only a little after shooting up from the cold, black floor. Cautiously I gazed around me, scanning the space for any immediate danger. None was discernible, yet I could not help but feel an overbearing sense that something was lurking among the dark that surrounded me.

I jumped to all fours and continued to look around. Someone—or something—was out there, and not once did I take a second to consider the possibility that I might have been blowing the situation out of proportion. Yet, despite managing to rile down my nerves, the adrenaline never ceased. With each passing second, it worsened. I lowered myself into a defensive stance in preparation for almost anything at that point without a clue of what to expect.

"Show yourself..." I mumbled, fixating solely on the empty space ahead. Being where my senses told me it was coming from, I bid the majority of my attention in that general direction while also minding my sides and rear in case they were tricking me again.

It was already starting off like those nightmares over the last few months. Darkness all around, excluding the whispering voices with no coherence whatsoever. At any moment I expected to reappear in a dying city street and be unable to dodge a sniper bullet that would surely end it all. At least it wasn't hard to figure out that this is not reality.

My ears stood up as they latched on to the gentle clicking of one pony's hooves drawing closer from ahead. As they neared, I honed in on a faint yellow lantern-like glow gradually swelling in intensity, and prepared myself for anything. But what appeared effectively caught me off guard.

Like an angel he was, his form glowed a brighter shade than his wheat-colored coat and blond mane combined, lighting a circular patch around him. His wings extended magnificently from both sides, perfectly preened down to the last feather, and the stallion's deep emerald cores shimmered under his own light. He approached with a nonchalant step, pulling up some six feet short of where I stood. I steadily straightened my posture as shock took hold of my essence, saying with the breath taken away from me, "Ray?"

In my present predicament, seeing Ray was... an enormous relief. It left me with a sense of security that he was safe and sound, albeit without the knowledge of what happened to me, or what might happen. Worse yet, I realized he might not ever. Those feelings reflected on my outward appearance, which the memory quietly discerned immediately. A look of evident worry permeated the golden pegasus' countenance.

"Star..." Ray spoke quietly. His ears' perk faltered as he took a few steps closer, up until he and I were practically muzzle to muzzle. It was now when I realized he somehow gained a few inches on me, though it was already to my half-cogent attention that this was the dreamscape—if anything, Ray and I were roughly the same height if standing side by side. Unless this was in fact some sort of alternate reality I was thrown in to, there is no plausible explanation behind the height difference other than how much more perfect it would make him than he already riveted.

My lips pursed into a glower when it struck me, and down tipped my chin along with my gaze. I had nothing to say in return. There was no point, none at all. That, however, did not stop him from lifting my head with his hoof slowly and gently. Tears sat in my eyes, glazing across my crimson irides with a noticeable film. For as much as I loved his touch, to see his face one more time, it hurt twice that. My last time seeing Ray Blitz, and it was in my dreams.

The stallion's mouth curled into a warm smile. Despite his drooped ears, he retained a sliver of happiness, as if he was presently aware of the situation and did so knowing it might keep my hopes up and prevent my composure from breaking under the pressure of captivity. He tilted his head left an inch and leaned his muzzle closer, ever so slowly. My body grew tenser by the second, and hesitantly, I leaned back toward him and shut my eyes. Time seemed to slow as our lips closed distance. I could only feel it now.

For a moment—only a moment—it felt real. All of it did. However, before either of us had the chance, the gesture was ultimately cut off by an absolutely frigid blast of water splashing across my face. I choked and gasped, sitting as far upright as my bound hooves allowed.

My now-soaked mane instantaneously stuck on like a layer of glue had been applied to it and to my muzzle. It sat partially covering one of my eyes like a curtain of sky blue until I jerked my head to the side, letting it slap back against the side of my forehead with a wet smack. I dashed my sights around in a briefly-panicked state before setting them upon a masked earth pony, different from the one from before, setting down a metal tub with a wet trail leading back to it as remaining droplets pattered off the side.

Any reactions went unnoticed under the screaming cries produced by the second unicorn to my left. He writhed, clenching his teeth, breathing sharply through his nostrils as the icy water seeped into gory open lacerations and other wounds spreading from his hooves and shoulders to his chest and throat, some of which visible only through slashes and cuts in his tattered uniform sleeves. From my standpoint—or sitting in my case—I could only wincingly imagine the pain surging through his body right about now, and his injured howls tough to stomach by itself left my skin crawling only more.

"Wakey, wakey, jarheads," came a roughened voice from beyond the doorway. Metallic clanking accompanied the echoing click of hooves in the adjacent corridor, only ceasing when who the soft noises belonged to strolled through. Merely his looks sent a wave of fear sweeping across every pony present—even what I assumed to be his own hired guns occupying the small room. Each of the masked sentries stood at attention in acknowledgement of his entrance.

The stallion in question donned a long trench coat that trained over his flanks, coming a mere two inches short of dragging along the floor at his hinds. A wide-brim brown leather stetson to match his jacket sat atop his crown, shadowing the entirety of his face down to the first button. His sleeves, had they not been neatly rolled once, would have had extra length on his hooves, and what was visible of them sent a chill up my spine. His right hoof was almost entirely metal—not a layer of prototype armor, but physically metal. A prosthetic. The thin spaces separating the plating revealed wiring, a rolling joint for the hoof itself, and two inexplicable blue lights. GenTech blue.

Apart from soft whimpering and the occasional clank of the cloaked figure's prosthetic hoof and the clops of his other hooves against the solid concrete in slow strides, the room was eerily silent. Those of us not blindfolded observed him carefully, scrutinizing his mysterious form. Nothing directly beneath his stetson was visible to the naked eye against the room's lighting, though it was evident that his furious eyes glared right back at us individually.

This changed when his head turned, shifting all attention to the guards positioned at random. With a low grumble, he commented, "Again with the damn masks! Y'all think it'll matter if they see yer faces or not? The boss don't want us keepin' 'em to September, who'll they tell?"

***

"Why are we at the ship?" queried Anchorage, walking alongside his commanding officer and eyeballing the massive carrier.

"Best place to talk without anypony to eavesdrop. Nopony's on board yet for weekly cleaning rounds, so we should be fine for an hour or two. Come," Shadow motioned his head, leading the pegasus to a narrow walkway leading up to a starboard hatch left wide open for the mentioned routines.

The greenish-grey earth stallion led the bewildered pegasus through three individual passageways to his personal quarters on the far opposite, port side of the ship. He ensured to scour their surroundings in case his previous judgement turned out to be incorrect, but once he was certain they were alone, he brought Anchorage inside, closing the hatch behind them to further soundproof their conversation.

Shadow looped around the side of his work station and lowered himself almost completely to the floor, where he reached beneath the desk to a surge protector and promptly switched it off, cutting power to the desktop computer securely bolted on top. It was to his awareness that they mind any piece of technology present capable of monitoring their discussions should someone tap into the system unwarranted.

"Now..." he began, minding his head and the edge of the desk on his way back up. "As Captain of the Eclipse, and in the years since my first deployment commanding this ship, I suppose you could say I have picked up a few new traits here and there—one of those being the ability to point out behavioral changes among my crew. I could see in that interrogation chamber that behind everything you said back there wasn't merely half of what was on your mind."

A small patch of scruff on the back of Anchorage's neck stood on end, concealed only by the pegasus' navy mane. He grew slightly stiff, stood before the captain's desk, which went immediately noticed by Shadow and only contributed to the subject. This time, it was Anchorage's turn to regard his commanding officer's acknowledgement of his posture.

He knew it was just them in that room, and probably the whole ship, yet that didn't prevent Anchorage from feeling a sense of apprehension before he gave his response. "I think we might have been targeted. He, might have been targeted."

"That might explain why you weren't taken as well," Shadow tapped his hoof gently on the wooden surface. "Were you... aware at all of any strange activities Star might have taken part in?"

Anchorage firmly shook his head. "No, Captain—"

Shadow raised his hoof to cut the pegasus off. "For this instance, and this instance only unless I say so in the future, refer to me by my name. We may be at work, but I give you permission to wave the formality here."

The comment hit Anchorage with a tidal wave of confusion, completely throwing him off. He blinked a couple of times, nodding shortly after. "Yes, Shadow. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Now, continue?"

Anchorage drew in a much-needed breath of relief to ease his aching muscles. "There was a lot I couldn't tell you in there, Shadow. I know you said we were alone there, too, but somepony is still watchin' somewhere. I don't think there are many souls we can put our trust in with this information right now."

Shadow nodded in acknowledgement. "I understand," he said, patting a chair opposite of his desk. "Have a seat, there is absolutely no need to stand. Trust me when I say there aren't any cameras around here. There's plenty of time to go around, so tell me everything you know, and we'll work with it."

The pegasus blinked slowly. He now felt relaxed to be under the supervision of somepony he knew he could trust, providing a sense of security lacked before now. Stiffening his spine as he stretched, he started, "This is probably a silly place to begin, but..." Anchorage chuckled softly. "We have to go back to the very beginning, where I believe it is safe to say this all started at," he added, putting his hooves on the desk and leaning forward. "So, the Alder..."

Author's Note:

I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get out. It was a last minute decision to ultimately split up this chapter into the next one.

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