{Edited} Chapter Three - Separation
Starbrought
Silence. It’s a priceless need when hunting prey. Even when you’re in a situation to where nothing wrong could happen in terms of loud sounds, it’s crucial to keep quiet during examination, pursuing, and any other methods of dealing with targets. The spreading of sand underfoot, despite it being nearly impossible to hear without sensors, must be done carefully, less a raider lying in wait hears your approach.
Therefore, perhaps one could understand the agitation that Slayer was feeling as he tracked. Yuri was walking behind him, and quite frankly he seemed to care little for stealth. Slayer had attempted to reason with him, but the tech had ignored him. Almost like he was in an odd sort of trance. Not even Slayer’s tried-and-true method of slapping Yuri across the face seemed to faze the engineer, and that both worried and annoyed the hunter.
The rising temperature on the desert was barely noticeable due to the still early point in the morning. But one could still feel it rising, its grip closing tighter on its inhabitants. Despite the Solaris Suit's need for it, Slayer wasn’t enjoying the sun’s threat of sweltering heat and blinding sunlight too much. 'That cell would have increased my recharge rate by a solid nine percent if I took the ten minutes to install it,' he griped to himself.
In an instant, Slayer immediately desisted his movement and held out a hand. It was positioned for Yuri’s chest, which it luckily hit. The reason for said luck, was that the trail descended down a steep dune, and the rate that Yuri would’ve fell could have possibly jeopardized the reconnaissance-slash-rescue mission.
Yuri’s eyes widened in confusion as he froze, which was a welcome facial expression from the flat look he gave as he walked on aimlessly. He turned to look at Slayer, who only responded with a casual point downwards with his free hand. Looking in said direction and realizing the potential fall, Yuri backed up swiftly to give a few feet of room from the very-likely deathtrap.
“The trail fades by each passing gust,” Slayer muttered as he watched the idle wind brush past the path. It faded ever-so-slightly, and soon the only link to find their captain could be lost if they didn’t hurry. “And more will pass in the time it’ll take to navigate down...”
Yuri glanced over at the pondering positioning of Slayer’s hands, and spoke. “So... do you think Drake is still alive, Slayer?” he asked the metal man, his voice laced with some concern. The assassin had cooled his jets some once daybreak as arrived, and as such he didn't lash out at Yuri.
“Hopefully. I’d prefer an extra gun that wouldn’t try to kill us on a possibly-hostile world,” Slayer responded as he began walking down the near sideways slope. Yuri hurried along after him and followed in his wake.
“How do you know whatever has Drake doesn’t or does have guns? Hell, it could just be a wild animal.”
Slayer slowed his walk to look back incredulously at his mate. “Wild animals don’t make these tracks. Would be more spread-out if there were several, and there’s too many prints for a singular beast.” He idly pulled out his rightmost Sabre and brushed his hand over it to clear the accumulated dust as he continued. “No, whatever has Drake is organized. As for whether they have guns or not, that remains to be seen.”
Yuri looked down at the degrading tracks, and sighed. They were not alone in this desert, and it was rapidly heating up as the sun began to ascend, adding beautiful colors of orange and red to the sky. He looked back behind them, and his jaw dropped. “Slayer... just how far have we gone?”
The ex-bounty hunter halted and glanced at the sun. It had peaked the horizon not more than an hour or so ago, and they had been walking for a significant time-frame. Making a few calculations regarding average speed of planetary rotation (which seemed to go at the Galactic Standard), and distance (estimated by the positioning of the sun compared to the starting point of the moon), he began walking once more. “About four-five hours. Maybe, fifteen miles or so?" A thoughtful sound left Slayer. "This is going to take a while...”
“Well, look on the bright side! We get to spend it together." Slayer was trying to find the positives of that prospect, but unfortunately came up with none. In fact, he thought he felt a chill creep up his spine, despite it being more-than-slightly-warm out. "...Though, did it ever occur to you that we are leaving our own tracks for others to follow?” Yuri asked.
“Correction. Your tracks,” Slayer commented as he returned to his previous brisk pace. “I’ve been moving lightly (despite my heavier armour), and have been walking in the tracks themselves. You however, have chosen to travel next to them, while at the same time leaving heavy indents." Slayer crossed his arms in a stretching motion as he pressed on. "If the ship is compromised, it’s your doing.”
“Now wait one minute. It’s not my fault that Drake crashed us here, and it’s sure as hell ain’t my fault that the reactor was having a fucking temper-tantrum!” Yuri yelled in Slayer’s face mask, hurrying around the hunter to stop him. ”And as for the tracks, not all of us have three-million credit space-suits that wipe our asses.”
All that built-up urge since dawn to not smash Yuri's nose was quickly dispatched with the engineer's tirade. After a harsh moment of silence passed, the assassin’s voice came out over the comlink. “How quaint,” he replied with a dangerously even tone. “Your stupidity is shown clearly in your mathematics, for the suit cost seven-million credits; not three.”
Yuri frowned. “Don’t insult—”
“Speaking of your lack of intelligence,” Slayer started again while at the same time interrupting his crew member, “how about I point out that you should know these basics and that it doesn’t require gear of any kind?” Slayer countered calmly as he shoved his mask against Yuri’s face even further. To the fool's credit, he only leaned back a centimeter. “So don’t give me excuses because you and your ex-Imperial acquaintances couldn’t figure out common sense.”
“So, I’m the one that does not have common sense?" Slayer rolled his eyes behind his visor; he knew exactly where this was going to go. Yuri couldn't go one day without bringing up past events in his whining fits. "This is coming from the person that got so drunk off his ass, that he stumbled into a tree and tried to bang it. This is coming from the person who has never let us see his face for no fucking reason (the real one is that you’re so fucking ugly, a palm tree is about the best you can get out of anything). This is also coming from the person that failed three times trying to kill a Vice-Admiral, then gave up and demo’d the building.”
"If common sense is a measure of intelligence, then I'm an idiot, but you're the bigger one."
A disturbing silence fell then. It maybe lasted for a few moments, or perhaps minutes. But as Yuri’s final words left his lips, only silence remained. Only the lightest of whispers being the gusts of wind were the few breaks in the pause. Slayer was currently reviewing the likelihood of him being able to repair the Ethereal himself without the aid of the engineer. A silent tsk under his breath made him discard the thought of murder. Wriggling his fingers to keep the blood flowing to the extremities, Slayer spoke in his same calm tone, marred only by a hint of smugness. “None of those relate to common sense, you know. The first was due to inebriation, the second is none of your damn business, and the third was an alternate source of completing a goal. You still have trouble figuring out which shoe goes on which foot.”
“The point still stands,” Yuri grumbled with defiance, pouting petulantly as if he was a child. “If you say I don’t have common sense, why should I care about what you say about me? And also, the reason you went after that admiral is that you failed killing me (which now that I look at it would have been better in the long run), but what has been done has been done.”
The warrior merely shook his head in exasperation. “Must you always do this? Try to get under my skin, yet fail every time?” Slayer turned on his heels and began his slowed-gait through the trail again. His worn patience made him forget he should be rushing. “Save your breath. And try to keep hydrated. Heat sickness will make you lose even more brain cells than you already have.”
“Oi, what me and my brain cells do is none of your concern. But are we going to catch the ‘kidnappers’ anytime soon?”
A dismissive wave was sent into Yuri’s direction. In his mind, Slayer wondered if Yuri was suffering from bipolar disorder. Maybe that was what those pills he had found on Yuri's cot were for. It made a lot of sense; Yuri was a bumbling idiot, so the only logical way to make him even stupider was him being a druggie. At the time, it made a great deal of sense. “We’ll handle them with extreme prejudice when the trail ends. It hasn’t yet, so stay sharp until we do.”
“Did you bring any food with us, by the way?” Yuri asked as he began to catch up with Slayer taking point, as usual.
“I thought I told you to bring it in your pack...” Slayer trailed off as he slowed down to a complete stop several feet away, and turned back slowly. “You, did do that, right?”
Yuri put down his pack and began rummaging through it. Slayer went in reverse and tried depicting the items. Yuri pulled out medical braces, spare energy packs, and even water. But nothing remotely edible appeared in his hands as he dug more frantically and deeper into the sack. Dejectedly, Yuri ceased and sat there on his knees. “Oh hell no...”
There was silence. Yuri winced and dared to look towards Slayer. He was surprised to see that he was merely standing there. The stance in which he stood in held no anger, nor disappointment... actually, his stance didn’t have an emotion. He just seemed to be stan—
Thwack!
…
Thud.
As the minor dust cloud cleared from under Yuri’s unconscious body, Slayer stood above him flexing his recently-used fist. He let out an annoyed sigh, and placed the bag back on his companion while he slept in blissful sleep. Hoisting the technician onto his shoulder, he grumbled a short statement before walking onward.
“Nighty-night, imbecile. Consider this a favour, because I’m only dragging your ass a couple of miles. Then I’m waking you up.” And with that, an odd sense of peace reigned between the pair once more.
Starbrought
Princess Cadance watched anxiously from the hallway outside of Canterlot Castle’s private Operating Room. Inside, Quick Mend and three nurses (all of whom Quick Mend had hoof-picked, swearing that they could be trusted to keep quiet about the creature) were hard at work stitching up the being’s numerous wounds.
As they worked, Quick Mend commented on the creature’s anatomy and an enchanted quill copied what he wrote down word for word, even sketching some of the creature’s body parts to accompany the writing. Most of Quick Mend’s comments, however, seemed to be focused on the similar characteristics the creature shared with numerous races on Equis.
“The brain is rather large compared to body size, much like that of most known sentient races,” Quick Mend spouted off as his magic washed over the creature, scanning its body primarily for broken limbs. “Initial scans show the creature has a well developed neocortex, prefrontal cortex and temporal lobes. I would assume that this means he is capable of many things including language, reasoning, culture, etcetera. We may be able to find common ground on which we can establish communication with when he wakes up.”
Upon their return to Canterlot, Cadance and her guard had quickly rushed the creature to the Operating Room while sealing up that wing of the castle, expressly forbidding any unauthorized entry. Shining Armor had volunteered to guard the main entrance to the medical wing, insisting that his Shielding Spell would prevent anypony from sneaking past, forcing those who wanted through to confront the guard.
“Much of the upper body seems to be similar to that of a Minotaur, though much more proportionate for its size,” Quick Mend rambled on as one of the nurses worked on cleaning a gash on the creature’s chest. “Especially in regards to its head. It doesn’t possess a snout like most sentient races do, so he should have a much shorter palate as a result.” The creature’s mouth was forced open by Quick Mend’s magic as the unicorn peered inside. “I count thirty two teeth in its mouth. One appears to be made of metal, or it possesses a metallic coating. I doubt that it’s a natural occurrence. I would consider this proof that his species is intelligent.” Quick Mend paused for a moment as he considered his own words. “Excluding the fact that he was wearing clothing and had a sword on him.”
Quick Mend tilted the creatures head back gently and continued to peer into its mouth while his magic automatically worked on stitching up one of the wounds on its chest. “Teeth in the front are designed for tearing and teeth in the back are designed for grinding,” he noted. “So he’s omnivorous, much like the Griffon’s and the Minotaur. Good, that means he should be fine on just fruits and vegetables when he wakes up since we have no meat readily available in the castle…”
He trailed on about the possibilities of the creature’s diet and Cadance subconsciously tuned him out, turning her attention instead to the window behind her. Two unicorns dressed in Hazard Defense Suits could be seen tenderly examining the objects that had been on the creature. They gave Cadance a brief nod of acknowledgement as they tenderly placed a small cluster of metallic discs into a lead-lined case to protect against potential ‘alien’ abnormalities.
While several of the creature’s possessions interested Cadance and the others, the sword was the most curious out of all. During the ride back to Canterlot, Shining Armor had unsheathed the weapon to get a better look at the craftsponyship of the blade in an attempt to figure out the general region where the creature might have come from. However, there was no blade, only an indentation in the guard of the hilt where several carefully shaped crystals had been secured.
The sword hilt remained in the scabbard, both lying on an operating table, waiting to be placed into a case (assuming the guards sent to fetch one could find one long enough without being larger than necessary). Cadance stared at the partial weapon, and then back at the creature as Quick Mend continued to cast scanning spells on the creature’s head. What kind of creature carried a sword with no blade? Was he a warrior? Or was it only for decoration?
“Hello, what do we have here?” Quick Mend said suddenly, snapping Cadance out of her trance of guess making.
“What is it, doctor?” She asked, striding up to the glass and staring at the creature. His wounds were now stitched up and the nurses were working on cleaning the excess blood off of its body. “Is everything alright?”
“More than alright,” Mend said eagerly. “I did a more thorough scan of his brain this time round. I wanted to make sure there wasn’t any damage that I could identify. Can’t be too careful, can we?” Cadance responded with a look to urge him to get to his point. “Right, as I was saying, I found something rather interesting in the left hemisphere of his brain.” His horn lit up and he projected the image of a small, cube shaped object with eighteen prongs extending from it.
“What is that?” The princess asked, peering at the projection. “A box?”
“Something else,” Quick Mend said eagerly. “This thing was surgically implanted into his brain.”
Cadance reared back, horrified. “This speaks volumes about his culture’s medical advances! If they can place something so perfectly within a brain, imagine what else they can do!”
"I know! Isn't it exciting?!" Quick Mend stated in a joyful tone.
“But wouldn’t that hurt?” Cadance asked, still with a horrified expression on her face as she stared at the creature. “Having that thing in his brain can’t be pleasant.”
Quick Mend let out a foalish giggle, which was rather disturbing coming from a fully grown stallion. “That’s the best part! The object is smaller than the size of a needle point! I doubt he can even feel it.” Cadance felt her jaw go slack. She looked up at the projection Quick Mend was casting. Several lines covered the object, all faintly glowing from what was clearly an internal light, and not the result of Quick Mend’s spell judging by how the light faded in and out at consistent intervals.
“Then what good is it?” She asked. “Something that small can’t possibly have any real purpose. And I doubt it’s for cosmetic reasons.”
“Well, whatever it is, it must have been worth it,” Quick Mend said as he dispelled his projection and went to the nearby sink to sanitize his hooves. “He’s had three others placed in various locations of his brain.”
Cadance felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over her. There were four of those things in the creature’s brain? Who would let that happen to them?
“And, judging by the scars hidden by his mane, he’s had them for quite some time,” Quick Mend rambled on as he held the door open for his nurses, who had finished cleaning up the creature and themselves before exiting the operating room. Quick Mend was the last to leave, locking the door behind him as he did so.
“Remember, none of you saw anything out of the ordinary today,” the doctor reminded the nurses. The three mares nodded and went their separate ways, carefully avoiding the pegasi guards who had arrived to hang up a thick curtain over the window to keep other ponies who weren’t in the know from finding out about ‘Princess Cadance’s guest’.
“If you’ll excuse me, your highness, I need to take a shower and organize my notes before I head off to sleep,” Quick Mend said, giving Cadance a small bow. “I’ll examine the creature again tomorrow and see if I can learn anything more about it.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Cadance said with a warm smile. “You’re a tremendous help. If there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“A paid week-trip to Van Hoofer would be nice,” Quick Mend said with a laugh as he took his leave. “Have a good night, Princess.”
“You too, Quick Mend,” Cadance said with a chuckle as the stallion disappeared around a corner.
Starbrought
The monotonous and repetitive sound of sand parting underfoot for Slayer’s steps gradually heightened his ire. After trying to rouse his idiot of a companion, and getting little success, he was forced to continue carrying him. And from his perspective, Yuri could definitely afford to lose some pounds.
'How much vodka would it take to get someone to weigh like this?' Slayer wondered as he walked. The sun was nearing midday (it surprised Slayer how long they had been walking, and how long Yuri had been knocked out; maybe he swung too hard?), and as minor revenge Slayer was moving his crewmate in a reversed shoulder press. This relieved stress by placing the burden on both shoulders, and would guarantee Yuri would get a sunburn on his face if he didn’t wake up soon. 'That’ll teach the bugger.'
It hadn’t been too long of a walk yet, but Slayer truly could care less as of that moment. He was solemn at this time, being left to his thoughts as he repeated the same motions to follow the trail after his less-stupid acquaintance. Things weren’t all fine and dandy (obviously), so it made sense that his thoughts would be revolving on how to gain passage off this rock.
'If what we’re after is sentient, and snatched up Drake... we’re already at a disadvantage there,' Slayer lamented. He might have sounded like a broken record, but he didn't exactly liked being stranded on a foreign world. 'Especially if they’re the only ones. I have little doubt that this will be a tedious endeavour, but if none do it, I’ll have to.'
His eyes furrowed as he thought further. 'Why is it that I constantly feel like nobody is intelligent enough to do something without screwing it up, forcing me to do it instead?' Slayer’s face then went flat. 'Oh yeah. Because they do lack intellect and sense, and I don’t.'
A small moan emanated from Yuri, but Slayer paid little mind to it as he maneuvered up the dune that was in his path. Clutched in one of his hands was an old-fashioned canteen he extracted from the technician’s pack; a canteen in which he had been idly sipping on as the journey took him. Opening his mouth seal and taking another swig, he reached the crest and snorted to discover that it seemed even more sand stood in his way. The path remained, but it was obvious it would soon fade into nothing within the hour. He wished to hurry up, but he couldn’t do that with Yuri in his company, conscious or not.
That’s when a cruel thought came to mind. Slayer glanced slowly to Yuri’s form, and a devilish grin began setting in. 'Hmm...'
Working quickly, he placed Yuri down and removed his pack. Going through it, he found some items and essentials he was looking for. A smaller satchel, water, other excess supplies... Removing the dwarf carrier and filling it with respective goods, he set it by the tech’s side as he equipped the pack.
He was about ready to leave, to begin jogging and hopefully clear the desert sometime before nightfall, when his subconscious began kicking in. 'Really, Slayer? You’re going to abandon one of your crewmates in the desert while they're unconscious, and with only the scraps you don't wish to take. That is utterly unhonourable.' Slayer sighed, knowing his mind was speaking truth.
…
After stopping briefly, Slayer went down the hill whistling, leaving his companion to lie on the dune. But, an old-fashioned umbrella sat embedded near his neck to provide the sleeping form of Yuri with some degree of shade. Some, mind you. Slayer still wanted Yuri to suffer a little bit before he died. 'I’ll try and find your body, if it isn’t picked clean by buzzards once I get Drake...' the hitman trailed off as the sun scorched on overhead.
Starbrought
“Urgh... So... Hot,” Yuri mumbled as he began to leave the realm of unconsciousness. It was blazing hot from what he could feel, being as groggy as he was. His skin felt as if It had been turned into leather that was made solely through animal hides, like what his great grand-parents had.
Upon attempting to open his eyes, however, something told him in his guts that doing so would be a very bad idea. So, he just laid wherever he was laying, feeling like he was being roasted alive. The lack of movement or sound near him also sent him into high-alert, as he tried collecting himself. He moved his arm up, and felt something slide off.
“What the fuck...” he harshly iterated, his words barely above a whisper. His mouth felt dry as a bone, and as he ran his tongue over his lips, he could feel them cracked and baked. He moved his other arm, feeling the same sensation as something slid off it.
He cracked his eyes open a little bit, but quickly shut them when he was nearly blinded by a bright light. He moved his arm over his eyes and opened them again, hoping that he could see. His eyes cracked open, and he saw what looked like a giant peach-coloured tarp covering his body, but slanted so that light poured on his face. He opened them even more slowly to let them get used to the light. Finally, he could see. His eyes diverted down to the ground, revealing sand. He sat up slowly, being careful not to hurt himself. The last thing Yuri wanted at the moment was for his dried, cracked skin to meet and impact with hot sand.
“Why the fuck am I...?” He trailed off as he looked about, and his surroundings lacked a red figure. He understood immediately what had happened, and an intense frothing rage bubbled forth. “SLAYER!” Yuri screamed as loud as he could, but with his dry mouth it was about the same level as someone shouting gently. An echo sounded off regardless as the name left his lips. He began to hack, spitting out a few grains of sand that had gotten into his mouth.
“Water... come to me.” With slugging speed, he located his backpack buried under a growing blanket of sand. He snatched it up before it could go on a tumbleweed ride down the massive dune he had woken up on. Yuri, feeling the scathing heat ingrained into his very being, opened the pack up and dug around, trying to find water to quench his aching mouth and throat.
“Did he... that son of a b—” Yuri began to hack again, as even more sand flew out of his mouth. He got on his hands and knees, hacking his lungs to oblivion. The pain of his lungs was soon overwhelmed by rage at the discovery in his pack. Slayer had taken nearly all of his water and either combined it with his own, or chugged it; leaving Yuri with an average amount in his mini-canteen—out of the five brought, only one sat in the satchel—and no sign of getting anymore anytime soon in endless stretching land of sand.
“That’s it, I’m going to kill him...” Yuri looked around at the rolling waves of sand stretching for miles and miles, going in every direction. No signs of a retreating body. ”But first, I’ve got to find that soon-to-be mummy.” Yuri picked up his backpack with a grunt and with one scrutinizing glance to spot the direction of the near-nonexistent trail, he began to walk into the great unknown. Like he had done many times before.
And this time, he hoped it did not end with bloodshed, and the horrors of war. Like it had so many times before.
Starbrought
“Cousin Cadance, I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve returned.”
Cadance closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She’d recognize that drawling, arrogant tone anywhere. Aunt Celestia, give me strength. She turned around, forcing a stiff smile on her face as Blueblood approached her.
“Blueblood!” She said in feigned cheerfulness. “It’s good to see you.”
“But of course it is,” Blueblood scoffed. “I am the great Prince Blueblood, after all.”
A great pain in the flank is more like it. Cadance said to herself as she fought back the urge to roll her eyes. Deep breaths, Cadance. In. Out. In. Out. That a girl.
“How was your trip to Zebraria?” The prince asked in a tone that told Cadance that he really didn’t care for her answer.
“It was perfectly fine,” Cadance replied quickly, wanting to keep her interaction time with Blueblood to an absolute minimum. “Saddle Arabia is such a beautiful city, and the zebras there are always so friendly.”
“Yes, yes. That’s nice,” Blueblood said, waving his hoof in the air as if to shoo away the conversation. “Though it doesn’t explain why you’ve returned a day and a half earlier than scheduled.”
Cadance froze in place for a fraction of a second. She didn’t want Blueblood to know she had brought some strange, unidentifiable creature back to the castle. He could barely tolerate other races of ponies, let alone those of lower social standing. He would probably have the creature shipped to the Everfree forest and tossed inside.
Fortunately, she had always been quick on her hooves. “Well, I’ve gone a few days without a decent bath,” she said casually, waving her hoof in a manner to mimic Blueblood. The prince scowled at her with a severe lack of amusement. “So I just simply had to rush back.”
Blueblood let out a derisive snort. “Oh ha, ha, ha,” he said sarcastically. “I imagine you are under the impression that you’re being funny.”
“Well I’m trying,” Cadance giggled, further irritating Blueblood, “But it is rather hard with you being a stick in the mud.” Cadance took a small pleasure in watching the stuck-up unicorn visibly shudder in horror.
“That is a horrid analogy,” Blueblood said in disgust. “Why would anypony ever want to cover themselves in wet dirt?”
“It actually helps exfoliate the skin, you know,” Cadance said. “I personally enjoy them.” She let out another laugh at his expense and brushed past him. “Goodnight, cousin.”
“Don’t forget that I’m still in charge tomorrow,” Blueblood called after her. Cadance just rolled her eyes.
Honestly, why Aunt Celestia would leave him in charge, even for a couple of days, is completely beyond me.
Starbrought
A heavy groan echoed across the desert as the word ‘Slayer’ screamed out over the terrain. Slayer realized that tone to be Yuri’s usual for trying to enact revenge, and he barely had half a mile over him. He proceeded to trudge at a faster speed than he had been previously, now proceeding at a faster yet still maneuverable jog.
'Man, why couldn’t my punch just keep Yuri down for a little longer? At least long enough to where I could fully ditch him and let the desert claim him,' Slayer thought as he tried to level his steps with the hoofprints. 'If he catches up, we’ll never find Drake. And that means I’ll be stuck on this forsaken planet with that idiot forever.'
As he followed his course, the hunter noticed the distinct lack of life with some trepidation. No form of plantae, or creatures of any sort. It was rather disturbing, because most deserts have some measure of activity. Being in one that currently didn’t, did not bode well with his increasingly-frayed nerves.
Idly switching off his Module, he peered at the path he took. Slayer was certainly surprised to discover that the trail had almost entirely evaporated, with the only evidence being small alterations to the landscape in the form of a disheveled strip. His brows raised at this, and reactivated his visor so he could stay en route.
'This is ridiculous,' he complained to himself. 'I have to hunt down someone I barely tolerate on an unknown world in the middle of a barren wasteland, with nothing but some meager supplies and a fool who provided basically nothing in the ‘Help Department.''
The wind whirled at an increased pace as Slayer went. His eyes furrowed, and he carefully examined his horizons for what he feared. Unfortunately, his fear was confirmed as a swirling vortex of sand was approaching him. “Fuck,” was all that left his lips as he tried to look to his surroundings to avoid the oncoming (but not literal) shitstorm.
To be honest, he was pretty much spent. That ‘dust devil’ looked vicious enough to lift him, and since the sand wasn’t solid he couldn’t simply dig into it to prevent his vertical change. And of course, he had hit a mini-valley of sorts, meaning he had very little time and terrain to work with. Slayer considered to simply start digging when he saw a small stony hole in the knoll of a nearby sand dune.
'Thank you, Lady Luck,' he thought with a snark as he scrambled inside and peeked out to see the sand whipping about into his shelter. Pulling back and wiping away the dust, Slayer tapped his helm and shoulder. Two identical flashlights flickered on, and allowed him to view the interior beyond the sunlight’s reach.
From the artificial beams, he could just barely see what he believed was the back of the cave. The walls appeared to have been natural, yet odd chips and scratches made him wary of whether those were the results of violent winds, or the possibility of other tenants.
Yet nothing lunged at him. Slayer gave another thankful sigh of relief as he slid down the side of the mouth and ended with him sitting in a lazy position. As the quiet atmosphere (save the howling of the wind) settled in, he removed his pack and began rummaging through it.
'Hmm,' the bounty hunter pondered as he went through the container. 'I only have two canteens, since I left the other three in Yuri’s satchel. I wasn't going to, but I felt a little bad. Hope he checked the side-pocket,' he snickered to himself. 'But knowing him, he probably didn’t.'
Besides the canisters for the water, he had some cable he intended to use if he came across some form of a rocky cliff he could descend, a Mark III Proto-Flash grenade to catch any group of individuals off-guard, two medical braces in case he somehow broke bones through his armour, and finally; a small little bag that he decided to nab despite it being completely empty. Why the last one? He didn’t know, but more shit in his pack meant he had a better chance of getting Drake back into his custody.
Uncorking the canteen he had been working on, he took idle sips of the lukewarm water. Tasted awful, but he preferred it over dehydration. He flicked off his shoulder light, and allowed his legs some rest. Thoughts began to float about as he waited the storm out.
'Maybe I should’ve brought Yuri anyway. Wouldn’t be so boring then in this cave,' he pondered while sighing. Slayer rested his helm against the wall, and stared at the cracked ceiling above him. 'If only I didn’t get into this shit...' The billowing of the wind gradually died down, but Slayer barely noticed as he readjusted himself to be in a napping position. The pack was made into a pillow of sorts, and now he briefly closed his eyes to get some form of usefulness out of being trapped.
...
Almost an hour later, and Slayer was still resting his laurels in blissful, desperate napping. The assassin was not infallible, and as such he was ensnared in the world of dreams. Particularly, a rather provocative one that if it were to be revealed to the general public, he would undoubtedly go on a murderous rampage in the nearest quadrant. But, like all good things; it had to end.
Slayer chuckled as he wiggled some in his spot. “Not bad...” he murmured unconsciously. A few idle seconds passed before he let out a low growl. “Oh, this is going to be—” He was cut off and simultaneously awoken by the Solaris Suit’s alarm-system going off. The assassin jumped up from his dream, katana and Sabre in hand as his head whipped about frantically.
Upon realization of the disturbance, he let out an unamused grunt and telepathically shut it off. “Right when things get good,” Slayer growled as he noticed the torrent of sand had ceased. 'Ah, good timing I suppose...'
Acquiring his pack and departing the cave, he reactivated his Module and began scanni—
…
“Oh for the love of...” Slayer sighed. The trail was officially nonexistent. Gone. Vanished. Deceased. The sand had removed all trace of the captors, leaving him without a lead nor a clue on where to go to recover Drake. Understandably, he didn't take too kindly to this revelation. “Great. Just fucking great!” His voice increased as he stomped around the mouth of the cave. “Try to hyperspace jump to Earth, and look where it gets me: stranded on a backwater world with my crew-members either captured or incompetent. Why must this happen to me? Why can't, for just once, things work out instead of Fate and Lady Luck taking turns dealing bad cards?!”
Snorting in anger and frustration from the cumulative amount of bottling up emotions due to all these stress-inducing events, he promptly drew both of his Sabres and went ballistic on the rocky exterior. Shot after shot rang out as chunks flew off from the energy bolts colliding against it.
However, this didn’t prove to be entirely wise. The sound cloaked others, and as the batteries for the Sabres had to recharge from a rapid expenditure of power, several loud growls brought Slayer’s focus off of his rage. The darkened abyss that was formerly the hideout acted as a veil for whatever was emitting the irritated sounds.
'There was something alive in there? How did I miss something when it was completely empty?!' Slayer thought frantically as he holstered his pistols and drew his Katana while examining his energy. It was low. Very low. Hardly enough to keep life-support and the weight-distributors online. If it wasn't for the sun overhead, Slayer would be completely screwed. Instead, he was just mostly screwed.
“Dammit all to hell,” was all he mumbled as the grey-colored beasts emerged from their domain.
Starbrought
"The subject in question is truly an intriguing specimen. I’ve only been able to properly study it for a couple of hours since we returned to Canterlot Castle.
So far, I’ve determined that traditional Minotaur Sage Healing techniques may be the most effective methods of treatment for the creature’s wounds, as casting healing magic seems to be a hit-or-miss in terms of improvement of the subject's health. The similarities between the two races is also astounding. Not only that, but the subject displays similar traits to that of the Diamond Dogs of the Badlands and Arc Wolf packs that wander the Frozen North. I only hope the subject wakes soon. I’m confident in my earlier assessment that his race is intelligent, and we just might be able to find some common ground on which we can establish communica—"
Quick Mend let out a cry of shock as the faint glow around his horn, identical to the one surrounding his quill suddenly and painfully flared. His magical grip on his quill sent it scrawling across his notes, ruining a mostly fresh piece of parchment. His eyes went wide with shock as the article went forgotten.
That was the warning enchantment he had placed on the equipment monitoring the subject’s heart beat alerting him to a sudden, unpredictable change in the subject’s life-signs.
It was flat-lining.
Quick Mend was on his hooves and dashing from his suite in the castle for the nearest staircase as quickly as his legs would carry him, all the while muttering “No!” under his breath over and over again. He paused only once he had reached the exit for the floor where the hospital wing was housed to catch his breath and regain his balance. Running down spiral staircases tended to leave most ponies with a feeling of dizziness and nausea, to which Quick Mend was no exception. He rushed past a small group of cleaning mares, startling them as he bowled over their cart full of supplies.
He ignored their indignant shouts and the feather duster now tangled up in his mane and pressed on, determined to reach the subject’s room. “Celestia please don’t let me be too late,” he pleaded in between breaths as he barreled through the double doors into the hospital wing. Several guards gave him curious looks as he passed, but shrugged it off. It wasn’t the first time Quick Mend had been seen running about the castle like a madpony.
Quick Mend barreled down the hallway and rounded the corner, skidding to a halt at the sight before him. The two guards stationed outside of the subject’s room were splayed out on the marble floor, both rendered unconscious from blows to the head, if the dents in their helmets were anything to judge by.
The doctor’s pulse raced in his throat as he slowly turned his attention to the open door of the room, where a long, drawn-out tone indicated the flat-lined signal. Nervously, Quick Mend eased himself into the room. Sure enough, the cables that had been connecting the heart monitor to the subject laid, unconnected to flesh, on the now empty examination table.
Quick Mend’s imagination took hold, running through dozens of possibilities in a manner of seconds. 'Could the creature have escaped? No, he was too injured. He wouldn’t be strong enough to incapacitate the guards. Could somepony have foalnapped him? Possible, but the only ponies who knew about the creature were a few select guards, the Captain, Princess Cadance and himself.'
'Unless somepony saw us bring the subject into the castle.' Quick Mend realized as he paced back and forth in the darkened room. The thought froze him in his tracks. 'They might have stolen him. Perhaps they intend to unveil him to the public and take credit for his discovery.'
He let out a loud gasp. “They don’t know that he could be intelligent! They might kill him and cut him open!” He slammed his hoof down dramatically against the cold marble flooring. “No. I won’t allow this! I must find them and put a stop to… this… villainy?” Quick Mend’s voice trailed off as he looked up from the ground and found himself staring at the creature in question, now towering several hooves above him.
The creature stared back with bright teal eyes that seemed to glow in the dim lighting. Then it flashed Quick Mend a predatory smile that sent a shiver down the doctor’s pony. Quick Mend’s mind was blank for a few short seconds as the two stared at each other.
The creature raised its arm above its head. Quick Mend’s eyes followed it for a moment, before the creature swung down and Quick Mend’s world exploded with a brief flash of pain before fading to the dark embrace of unconsciousness.
Starbrought
The cry echoed around the desert as Yuri attempted to unleash all his pain and rage into one, fierce roar. He was angry, tired, and generally unamused with being dumped in the middle of nowhere.
“Slayer~!”
If there were birds in the damned land, they would have taken flight in fear. If there were trees, their leaves would have begun to move from the volume of the yell. Anything with a remote amount of intelligence would have fled for the hills, at the pure exasperation and anguish in the technician’s voice.
But Yuri was not in a forest of any sort, and little life inhabited it. Rather, he was in an endless plain of sand. Instead of birds and trees, there were cacti and snakes. Instead of having a shadow to give the place a cool temperature, the sun ruled here with a gassy fist. So the shout didn't really do anything.
Yuri finished his yell, looking around to see if anything had heard him or moved at all. But it was the same lifeless, sandy plain that he had been seeing and walking through for most of the day. “I hope Slayer heard that; he’s gonna need a head start for when I come for my revenge,” He said sadistically, venom dripping from the statement.
Yuri looked down at the bottom of the massive sand dune he had walked up. He had nearly fallen all the way down to the little valley that had been formed between the dunes after ages of sand blowing. And now he had finally reached the top of it, and the only way to get Slayer and make him suffer was to get to the other dune across from him.
And the only way to do that was to go down.
Yuri screamed like a little girl as he slid down the massive dune at tremendous speeds, dodging rocks and making sure not to run into any cacti that might have somehow grown into the dune. 'Who said trying to exact revenge couldn't be fun?' Yuri thought as he reached the bottom of the dune. He sat back up and began to walk in the shadow of another dune, making the sun’s mighty rays a little less mighty on him.
You know the saying that a place is a lovely place to visit, but you would not want to live there? It pretty much summed up the desert, in his opinion. Yuri found himself thinking about a time when he was in a similar situation, but instead of being lost, he was being tested.
“Let's not think about that, on second thought...” He sighed to himself as his mind brought up memories that he would have destroyed if he had the chance, but he never could bring himself to forget what he had done. He could not, he would not. And as such, the flashbacks came...
“Please... I have a family. I have a kid, he’s only seven... Please,” a voice begged in pain and anguish.
“Do you expect pity? You betrayed the Empire, forsaken just and fair laws; you have to be punished... Prepare yourself.”
“No... NO! DON’T DO IT, PLEA—“ *boom*
“Well done, Yuri," a snide voice said on the sidelines. "Or should I say... Rear-Admiral Yuri.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Yuri shook his head again, desperately trying to clear his mind. “No... go away,” the pirate mumbled again, this time much more softer. Yuri had to pull himself together; he needed to keep his focus on the present, not in his grim past—
He was suddenly on the bridge of a ship, orbiting a planet. Yuri looked out the window and saw a still, blue sphere with white puffs marring the surface and continents scattered like jigsaw pieces in a pond. One could have considered the view absolutely beautiful, daresay entrancing... were it was not surrounded by a fleet of Imperial Warships. Several dozen burning hulks of ships spun in space, floating without any crew.
“This is President Linzee of the Planet Autumn. We surrender... we surrender, just let us live...” Crackling sounded off as the feed was transferred away from the monitor.
“What are you orders, Admiral Lawrence?”
“How many creatures are on the planet, Captain?“
“Creatures, sir?”
An irritated sigh was heard. “How many humans are on the planet?”
“One-billion, and twenty-million, sir.”
“That seems a bit much for a planet of this size. I believe we have to dwindle that down a little bit...”
“Sir?”
“You heard me.”
“Are you suggesting we do what I think you're telling us to do?”
“No, I’m not suggesting it. I’m ordering it. Relay the message to the fleet.“
Hesitation for only a moment, before a holographic button was pressed. “This is Captain Yuri, direct orders from Admiral Lawrence: all fighters are hereby ordered to fall back and dock. All other ships: target highly-populated centers on the planet with Heavy Fusion warheads. Once they have been annihilated, concentrate all firepower on any remaining populations over five-hundred thousand. Call in when ready.”
“Sir,” an officer stated as he examined the radar, “an Alliance fleet has just warped in, ten minutes ‘till arrival.”
“Don’t worry. I intend for us to be long gone before they get here.”
“Fleet reports ready, sir.”
“Fire.”
Yuri smirked as dozens of purple lights flew towards the plan—
Ssssssssssssssssssssssssss...
Yuri’s eyes shot opened as he heard something very familiar. He looked down towards his right side, yet nothing was there. “It can’t be...” He murmured to himself. He hadn't heard that sound since he was a kid.
Ssssssssssssssssssssssssss...
Yuri turned his head very, very slowly to his left, being careful not to move any part of his body too suddenly. He looked towards his bag he had sat down, and sure enough, there was a snake crawling inside of it, probably looking for food. Sorry that it’s going to be disappointed, Yuri thought as he bored holes into the writhing body.
“Shoo,” Yuri grumbled as he moved his hands in a fashion of which it would seem he was shooing away a cat, not a snake. The snake did not even acknowledge him, instead electing to continuing its search of the pack for anything that would work as food for it. “Shoo...” Yuri trailed off again, mirroring the same movement, though this time with more force. The snake poked its head out of the bag, staring straight at Yuri with an almost amused stare.
A classic Standoff.
“Mr. Snake... get out of my bag,” Yuri stated as he lunged forward and grabbed the snake, throwing it out of the bag and onto the hot sand. He grabbed his pack and ran as fast as he could. The direction did not matter, all he wanted to do was to get as far away from the pissed off snake as he could. He may or may not have screamed like a little girl during this instance, as well.
The technician proceeded to keep running as fast as he could, barely recollecting how much distance he traveled as he moved. He had a previous experience with the vile things—which recollection was most certainly not wanted—that now made him fear and hate them with a burning passion.
Yuri finally came to a stop on top of a smaller dune, getting on his hands and knees while gasping for air. He had run for who knows how long and had covered a great distance. His body was not hesitating in letting him know how it felt about having to run so far and so fast. It was not happy in the slightest, to say the least.
After catching his breath, Yuri stood up and looked around to see where he was. He was expecting to see the same dull desert, but for once in his life Lady Luck would shine on his day. He saw trees, grass, and all sorts of other lifeforms. A comfortable air hung around his new surroundings, relieving the heat he had been going through not more than a few minutes ago.
He had found an oasis. And where there was plants, there was water....
“Water!” Yuri screamed as he slid down the dune towards the life-giving force that was water. He jumped over a rock and did a combat roll, springing back up and running towards the water at full speed. His body had completely forgotten of what it felt after running all that way. He cleared another rock and jumped off, prepping to leap head-first into the water.
Only to crash head-first into a palm tree.
“Ow...” Yuri mumbled through gritted teeth as he rubbed his sun-bleached face, trying to make sure that there was no blood coming out. The last thing he wanted was to get an infection in the middle of the desert with limited medical aide because he busted his burnt face on a palm tree. He squinted at the offending bark. “Screw you too, then.”
He took this time (after getting over the after-sting of the collision) to get out his water bottles and his water cleaning tablets. The tablets would kill any form of bacteria and would also give the water a crisp, blueberry taste. Yuri was glad he had some limited foresight to grab a couple just in case, and to store them in a hidden compartment. Slayer definitely didn't have any, and that thought comforted Yuri.
He made sure there were no dangerous snakes by him, and began to walk towards the water as carefully as he could. He got there and filled all of his bottles with water, then dropped a tablet in each of them. Blue bubbles began to fill the container as the tablet did it’s magic. The particle-filled water was soon crystal clear.
Yuri took the bottle and chugged it, his taste buds active as the blueberry-flavoured water went down his throat, parching his thirst he had since awakening. He tipped the bottle back in and filled it up, doing the process over and over again. Drop tablet, wait, chug, repeat.
This went on until Yuri was fully hydrated, his belly full of the beautiful liquid. Quickly patting his face down with some water to cool the burns, he attempted to consider his next course of action. He stood up and took in a deep breath, closing his eyes in thought. He needed sleep, and then food. Definitely in that order. Ignoring the protests of his stomach, Yuri went over to where a tree was—not the tree he crashed into, mind you, for the technician wanted nothing to do with the asshole—and laid down again in the cool shade. He closed his eyes and began to drift off to sleep.
Suddenly, before any sleep could be ascertained, his good ear began picking up flapping of sorts. It increased, and wind began picking up around the oasis as he looked about curiously for the cause. Yuri heard several thuds afterwards, which then somehow triggered an odd continuous noise similar to a horde of... something undefinable.
“What the hell—?” Something slammed into his head at a force that was hardly necessary, knocking him unconscious similar to Slayer’s T.K.O. Punch, if not worse. Unfortunately for Yuri, and fortunately for whoever began speaking afterwards, that strike did not belong to the bounty hunter as Yuri tumbled to the ground.
“Captain Iron Wing! We’ve found something...”
“Oh? And what would that... be...”
“Sir...?”
“Corporal!...I can see several weapons that obviously are not from here.”
“Your point, Captain?”
“If we can acquire and use it, we could deal with the nuisances that’s been in our kingdom's backside as of late.”
“Should we just take the things and leave... whatever this is here?”
“Negative. We need something to show us how it works, and he just volunteered whether he knows it or not. Load him and prepare to continue the flight.”
“Yes, sir!”
Starbrought
Drake let out a grunt as he tossed the leg of the tray table aside. His body ached all over from the numerous wounds he had received when the Ethereal crash landed, but he couldn't let that stop him. It couldn't, even if he wanted it to.
When Drake had finally come to minutes before, he had first been shocked to find himself in a marble floored and walled room filled with medical equipment. Antique medical equipment, for that matter. The heart monitor wasn’t even holographic and didn’t register minor muscle twitches or brainwave activity.
Even worse, his wounds had been stitched shut. Stitched. Now he was going to have even more scars. Stitching hadn’t been used since the twenty-fourth century, with the invention of Biofoam that could rapidly seal wounds and leave a protective coating over them for up to months at a time, preventing infection and scarring.
Drake grumbled incoherently under his breath as he searched around the small room for his clothes. His search proved fruitless, only turning up spare sheets for the table he had woken up on, and the average, dull green hospital smocks worn by nurses all across the galaxy, only resized and fitted for the four legged aliens that had captured him.
Grunting in irritation, and moving slower than he would’ve like due to his injuries, Drake quickly modified the fabric he had found into something resembling a sheet wrapped around his lower body. Perhaps not the most elegant solution, and certainly a sight to make any fashion designer in the galaxy faint, but it was a better solution in his mind than remaining naked.
Turning his attention to the door, Drake made his way out into the hall, pausing only long enough to drag the two unconscious armored aliens back inside and pick up the leg of the tray table once more. A moment passed in thought, before he brought the alien garbed in medical attire into the room as well.
One of his neural implants, the one that remained connected to his equipment at all times, indicated that it was all on the move, headed for somewhere else inside the building where he had been taken sometime while he was still unconscious.
If he could get his hands on his equipment, he’d be in much better shape. Not only would he have his weapons, but he had three emergency canisters of Biofoam tucked away in the folds of his coat. He could easily undo the stitching and patch himself up with the foam. Then, all he would have to do is make his way back to the Ethereal crash site to assess the damages to his ship, and hope that Slayer and Yuri were alright. Otherwise, he might just be stuck on this world for a long time.
Satisfied with his plans, Drake exited the room as quietly as he could and began to make his way down the massive hallway, following the general hints on where to go from his implants, and blissfully unaware that he was being followed by a curious, and suspicious blue-maned guard captain.
Starbrought
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I imagine Slayer's suit looking like this
newvegas.nexusmods.com/mods/images/35130-1-1288293882.png
How accurate/incorrect am I?
Yes! It updated! Good chapter too!
Ah, updated. Perfect! A nice ending to a perfect day.
Yay, update!
Update moar!
Nice chapter, but why is it unconcious humans saved in equestria and taken to Canterlot always wake up and then proceed to knock out the doctor tending to them?
1208295
What game is that from? I'm guessing a Fallout New Vegas mod based on the gun, but I'm not sure.
1209159 Its from the mod Reinforced Chinese Stealth Armor for FONV.
For some reason, I picture Yuri and Slayer as Shrike and BB from Zuerel's cartoons, and Drake as Mal from Firefly...
1208295
Well, I say you're in half-in-half. The mask is a full face-plate (meaning it's all shiny glass), so Slayer could be able to look at his peripherals without moving his head as much. The armour is red, and certain sections are flexible and black.
tldr.me/1w7rgml.jpg
Here it is, in view-able form (the basic form at least, some things were edited out through verbal descriptions). Though, I do like the picture you showed. So, consider that one you showed a possible camouflage for Slayer, should the situation call for it.
-Dumb
1208717 The sad thing is they left the vodka on the ship...
1208791 Thanks for enjoying it! Any sugjestions or opinions for the story?
1209048 Patience, it will come!
-Soviet
1209159
Drake has very good reasons for knocking out the doc. And the guards. The simplest way to put it without giving too much away is that he really doesn't like being captured, which, for all intents and purposes, he basically is.
What would you do if you suddenly woke up on a possibly hostile alien world only to find that you were in a guarded room and stripped of all your possessions? Especially if you were a pirate?
-Shadow
1213131
Oh, no complaints there. I was more commenting on the trope that Human Captured > Hospital > Hitting the Doctor over the Head.
It's getting to be up there with Twilight Wakes up with Wings > Twilight tries to hide Wings while Freaking Out. 
As far as mlp story tropes seem to go.
As to your question: I'd have an anxiety attack, and with no possessions that'd mean my Ativan would be missing so... Panic, lots of blind, hiding in the corner panic.
No personal shielding?
How primitive.
4# humm
