36 - Death, Part 7 of 10
Scootaloo had been relieved by Pacer, and she quickly began getting the CAP back off the ground. Changelings were dominating the air, and widespread fighting soon filled the skies above the heights as regiments of pegasi took the battle to the changelings.
As the fighting continued, the groups became smaller and scattered in the jumbled mess that unfolded. Scootaloo led a squad silently, swiftly toward another group of the enemy. She had been so distracted by the action on the ground that the changelings had initially established their presence in the air almost unchallenged. Scootaloo recognized this now as a tactic that she had fallen for. She’d been outmaneuvered.
The size of the enemy squad they approached was unknown, as more were coming down from above, but speed would be on Scootaloo's side. The wind rushed in her ears as they came closer and closer to a group of changelings that was bombarding the ground forces. One of them looked up, but it was too late. Scootaloo fired a single shot from her crossbow, which set off a chain reaction from her squad. Seven solid hits took down their targets, and only a moment later, an aerial dogfight ensued.
The squad of ten pegasi slammed into the hovering changelings at full speed. A flurry of kicking and biting followed, not to mention magical blasts that made hair stand on end. The changelings were completely caught off-guard, and the entire action only lasted for a minute or so. It had been twenty against her ten, but the twenty were all dead or dying.
Scootaloo scanned about, and was pleased to see that her squad was still intact. In the distance, more and more groups of changelings were fighting with the CAP, which still numbered in the thousands. It was shaping up to be a mess.
"Captain, a flare!" one of her squad members shouted.
Scootaloo turned to see a single red flare burning brightly in the sky; it was coming from the direction of the command center. While she didn't know what it meant exactly, it couldn't be good.
"On me," Scootaloo said as she powered in that direction.
Her squad followed. On the ground the situation seemed to be getting worse. Several more pits had opened up underneath the heights. Timberwolves were clawing their way out of them, but for the moment they were held in check by the EUP ground forces. To the east, the main lines were in pitiful shape. A combined mass of changelings and timberwolves had punched hard in and broken the line, gaining the heights in the center. This would all have to be dealt with soon, but right now, she needed to get to the command center.
As they drew close, the sight of smoking devastation filled Scootaloo with dread. As she dropped down, her squad circled above to keep the skies clear.
Moments later, earth met Scootaloo's hooves. Her heart sank. Dead bodies littered the ground all about. Many of them were so disfigured that they were now completely unrecognizable. Sifting through them, she did identify General Brax by his armor, which made her rage boil again. She also in similar manner identified what was left of Masher. The stench of blood filled the air; it was a massacre.
"Scoo-" a voice called, interrupted by a fit of coughing.
Scootaloo turned and felt herself die inside. Time froze for a moment when she saw Sparklefly. She rushed to her, dropping to the ground. Her friend was laying in an unnatural position with her head propped up on her helmet; she was obviously injured badly. Her hind legs were turned at a sharp angle. Instinctively reaching for her own med-kit, Scootaloo stopped short. Dirt had been packed into gaping holes in Sparklefly's stomach, but it had turned to a dark red slimy mud. Her eyes looked dim.
"Medic," Scootaloo's voice was barely a whisper. "I need to call a medic."
Sparklefly shook her head, "It's too-" she coughed blood, "it's too late."
The orange pegasus sat helplessly, feeling the need to do help, but unable to think of how.
"I'm sorry," the wounded mare said. "I should have stayed on leave."
"It's not your fault," Scootaloo answered, but her words sounded empty to her own ears.
She wanted to do something, anything to change what was happening, but she didn't have the power; even her strength to be angry was suddenly lost. She slid herself under Sparklefly and held her, as one would hold a frightened child.
"Brax is dead. I don't know if Pacer made it out or not," Sparklefly's voice was growing thin.
“He did. Pacer is rallying the center.”
“Good... that’s good... Scootaloo, you need to take command. Get the Assault Corps out of here... I wanted to see it through, to see the end... of the war. I wanted to rebuild Sweet Apple Acres with your friends," a tear escaped Sparklefly's good eye. "It was a trap. I fell for it... they fooled me,"
"There was no way you could have known," Scootaloo said.
"Don't wait for the rest of the pegasi to return. Save everypony you can. This place is death," Sparklefly said, closing her eye. Her voice was barely a whisper now. Each breath she took came in with effort, and every exhale took even longer. "Watch after my brother and the medic... Medic... I never even knew his name...”
“Beigh,” Scootaloo choked on the word, “his name is Beigh.”
“Beigh,” more tears filled the fallen mare’s eye. “Get him and Duster out of this place.”
"I will," Scootaloo promised, a fire of conviction growing inside her. "I will keep them like they were my own brothers."
"Brothers," Sparklefly repeated vacantly.
They sat there together for a moment that Scootaloo wished wouldn’t end, for she knew what would come; she felt powerless, not knowing what to do. A paper and pencil were laying to the side. It appeared that Sparklefly had been attempting to write something. The page was so smeared with blood that if a message had been thereon, it had been obliterated.
"Always causing trouble," Sparklefly said weakly. "I didn't do it..."
"What?" Scootaloo asked. "Didn't do what?"
"I didn't do it, Momma Mare," her friend said, “Don’t be angry.”
Scootaloo held on tighter, as if she could physically prevent her friend from leaving.
“I’m not angry. I know it wasn’t you.”
"Thanks, Momma Mare," she said, growing quiet again.
Her breaths were becoming shallow. Scootaloo’s mind still raced, but in circles. There was simply nothing she could do.
"Scootaloo... One last order," Sparklefly said, her voice now almost impossible to hear. "Broken arrow... broken arrow..."
"Broken arrow," Scootaloo confirmed.
Sparklefly's head slumped, but she was still breathing sporadically. Scootaloo hadn't realized that she'd been crying, but her face was soaked with tears for the passing of her friend, the one constant ally upon whom she had depended since they were cadets.
A rustling noise near by caused Scootaloo to look toward one of the tables. Flittergear was emerging from beneath it. She slowly walked over to them and stood there silently. She had evidently been crying already. Sparklefly shuddered, let out something like a cough, then didn't move any more.
Scootaloo touched Sparklefly's mane; the body was lifeless. It felt as though the floor had dropped away from her heart, and it was falling further and further down. Soon, a feeling of bitterness began to overcome her: bitterness and anger. Emotion poured out in tears, and a scream escaped the pegasus.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she heard herself say a hundred times. “I’m sorry.”
An overwhelming wish that she had protected the command center flooded Scootaloo with guilt. She would have had anything but this happen. She would have done anything to change it, but it was all futility. It was done, and she had no strength to alter it. She gently set Sparklefly's body down on the charred earth and stood, looking at Flittergear.
She took a breath and spoke flatly, “I’m taking command. Execute Phalanx. We hold this position until we drive the timberwolves back off of these heights. Find Pacer and let him know what happened here.”
Flittergear nodded.
Scootaloo wiped the tears from her face.
“Phalanx,” Flittergear said softly.
She left at a gallop.
Scootaloo took a final look at the body of her friend, staring blankly into the sky and already growing cold. She was filled with a heaviness unlike any she'd felt before. Bending down, she relieved the corpse of its crossbow and ammunition. She had a mind to spend each of those bolts on the enemy.
Lastly, she took the eye patch that she had given to Sparklefly, the one that Rarity had made for her. She looked at the beautiful stitching, marred and repaired by her own clumsy efforts. It looked worn and dirty from use. She put it into her pocket. If the situation had been different, Scootaloo would have taken the body, but there was too much to do, and she couldn't afford the weight. After quickly gathering up dog tags from the slain, she made ready to depart. With the flapping of wings, Scootaloo took flight and rejoined her squad in the air.
"Listen up," she began, "The changelings have come out to play, which I mean to show them was a terrible mistake. They have killed several of our officers, and we need to keep them from escaping. I am assuming command of the Assault Corps. I want all of you to fly north as fast as you can. Reconnect with any of our other forces and get them back here. Skyflame is in command of that force. Tell her that I want her to cut off any chance for the changelings to retreat so we can crush them while they're in the open. Find me as soon as this is completed."
The faces of her squad were completely stoic.
"Where will you be, ma'am?" a concerned gray stallion asked.
"Hunting," Scootaloo replied as she loaded the crossbow, her voice full of ice. "Move out!"
They all turned north at her command and sped away. Scootaloo flew on alone, Sparklefly's crossbow loaded. She was consumed with a need to find something to kill that grew stronger by the second. Scanning the sky revealed actions taking place all over. The fighting was widespread across and above the heights. Stealing their own tactic, Scootaloo gained altitude to get into a better position.
At a fair distance, she spotted a group of five changelings. They were near one of the medical tents bombarding the ground. Keeping the sun on her back, Scootaloo got above them. She got close enough that she was sure of her aim. Anger was burning hot inside, but she was trying to keep her head. She let the bolt fly and quickly pulled another to reload. Her aim was true, striking a changeling. It fell to the earth. The others began looking about, but she had already loosed a second bolt by the time they realized where she was. Another was cut down. The three remaining spread out and were heading towards her now.
Sweat ran down Scootaloo's neck as adrenaline surged through her. She would have to be careful. She turned and shot straight up, in the direction of the sun. She had to keep her eyes closed while she faced it to not be blinded. Looking behind her, she saw that one of the changelings had not taken that precaution. She aimed and loosed another deadly shot. A sizzle filled the air, far too close for comfort. The other two had come around and removed the blinding sunlight as a factor.
Scootaloo went into a steep dive and rolled to her right. Several more bursts of magic flew past her. She was able to reload and continued to dive. They stayed close behind her, blasting away. She pulled up and banked hard left avoiding what would have been a lethal hit. She rolled, aimed, and returned fire at them, but was unable to see if she hit the target. She got even lower to the ground, finally dropping behind one of the supply tents.
Skidding to a halt, she galloped back, running into the side of it. She took aim and as the changelings flew overhead, she fired again. It caught one of them, and he shrieked, falling to the earth. The last one glanced back before speeding away. Scootaloo pulled her knife and thundered down on top of the wounded changeling. A burst of green fire enveloped the enemy, and suddenly it was Cloud Blazer laying there wounded. Scootaloo froze.
"Help me," the changeling said in Cloud Blazer’s voice.
Rage completely took over. Scootaloo let out a cry that would have stolen the strength of any that heard it, friend and foe alike, and she leapt on top of the changeling that had taken the form of her friend. Her knife found its sheath in warm flesh again and again until the life was stabbed out of it. The body began to grow cold, and the magical disguise failed.
A noise to her left made her look. Several earth ponies were retreating before timberwolves that had clamored up out of a trench. Scootaloo leapt up and thundered toward them, letting out another savage cry. She barreled into them with her body. Intense hatred filled her as she smashed with her hooves and stabbed at anything that got near her.
Everything blurred, and she lost perception of time. The violent convulsions that followed didn't even make sense to her. It was such a visceral act that her conscious mind wouldn't have accepted it even had she not been lost in a berserk blood rage.
When she came to herself, she was sitting on another changeling corpse that she had slaughtered, surrounded by dead timberwolves and ponies. Her mind began taking in everything that had happened and had started processing it again.
Chaos had erupted all around. Ground forces were fighting each other, but it was now impossible to tell which were changelings and which were EUP soldiers. Arrows and deadly blasts of magic were flying thick all around. The sky, particularly at low altitude, was becoming a much more dangerous place to be, as on the ground there was some cover.
Scootaloo looked around, and realized that she was near the center. The fighting was no longer confined to the trenches and pits. If there was fighting on top of the heights, everything might fall apart if they didn't withdraw.
She knew that staying for revenge would only get her killed, and that was a satisfaction she wouldn't give the changelings. “Broken arrow” was their code command to abandon the heights in the face of catastrophic losses and move to the fallback rendezvous point to the west. That’s what Sparklefly had ordered. Scootaloo had to make it happen. She needed to find Duster.
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Awww, Sparkle fly needs Beigh in her last moments, to bad he's already dead, just like Jefferson and Adams
You should of listened to ackbar
I'm sorry the comedy is a defense to stave of the tears.
Earn this Scootaloo
Earn this.
The emotions are getting progressively worse,
indeed
Well quality wise better but you no what I mean
That's not going to work for Scootaloo
If anything you just chose a much more pain full death for yourself.
8756113
1) Gosh... if I had thought of that... how heartbreaking would that have been if he had been there and was unable to save her...
2) We all have our own ways of coping. I don't hold it against you.
3) Thank you for saying so.
4) Indeed he did. He has chosen... poorly.
Well, there goes main-main character immortality as Sparklefly bites the dust. Now I suppose there's only title character immortality left. Too bad that the ponies have to retreat. Otherwise Scoots could find Beigh's body and bury the two together.
Also, the changelings don't realise just how much they dun fucked up. They can attempt to take over Equestria, sure. Raze most of Equestria to the ground, sure. Unleash millions of timberwolves on the population, sure. Put Equestria into a famine position, sure. Kidnap and interrogate ponies, sure. Kill lots and lots of ponies, sure.
But they just pissed off Scootaloo to an extent she hasn't been angry before in this fic, and as you and I know, hell hath no fury like a Scootaloo scorned in a war/apocalypse/post-apocalypse fic. She is going to layeth the smackdown on them, and the war will probably end with Chrysalis throwing every magical attack she can at Scoots while wielding the Alicorn Amulet and yelling "WHY WON'T YOU DIE!" as an orange neigh-unkillable figure of death continues to approach. I'm sure Ash Eater is going to feel a cold sensation around his neck now, probably five minutes before Scoots lops it off
8786326
1) That would be kind of romantic... as it is... I'm pretty sure they're going to be left for timberwolf fodder...
2) So... hahahaha... the thing is... most of that is not... well... the thing is... the line... "Why won't you die?" will be shouted later... HOW DO YOU DO THAT???? 🍪
8786469
Nanomachines, sonCombination of just reading enough literature to read the tropes, being a writer myself,and hashing plots out to enough story ideas in my heads that I'll never actually write but which give me the ability to predict twists8799495
You have both talent and skill. That is a wonderful combination that most people do not possess.
I for one, considering the circumstances, will take it as a point of honor that I have managed to throw a few twists in that you didn’t see coming.
Well.... Let's see here, okay, yes yes, expect the police to show up at your house, full swat raid style, I figured out where you live, I'm only giving you a slap on the wrist
8858935
