Destiny(?)
Chapter 23 - Destiny(?)
“I’m sorry Sunset, but my answer is final.”
“This isn’t fair!”
“Sometimes life is not. You’re not ready.”
“That’s not true! You saw something. I know you did!”
“I did, Sunset, but—”
“But what!? I spent my whole life preparing for this! For you! And now I’m not good enough?”
“Sunset, I—”
“You what?”
“I’m sorry. But I won’t speak of this further, and you shouldn’t either. What I saw … It’s not … Sunset!”
Her mentor’s voice echoed after her as she ran.
Sunset awoke with a gasp, halfway rising but then stopping as pain lanced through her. “Ow …” What …?
She was in a medical bed, that much was clear, though not like any medical bed she was familiar with. That it was thick and heavy was an immediate clue. And she was still seran, as evidenced from a quick look at her fingers. Gone was the pony from her dream, a long-lost memory that already felt years’ ancient.
The room was well-lit, if sparse and a bit lacking in familiar comforts. However, it was the figure sitting a few feet from the edge of her bed, eyes studying her, that caught her attention first. She recognized him from a few of the photos she’d seen, though he looked much older than he had then. How much she wasn’t sure—it was hard to judge seran faces with her almost nonexistent lack of exposure. But she was certain of his identity. Just … older. More tired. He had a small beard now, largely grey, and his black hair had thinned and receded somewhat.
He was giving her an analytical stare, one that reminded her of the piercing looks given by one of the old Griffon Empire diplomatic attaches, a look that spoke of pure analysis, of weighting and measuring all silently being carried out with each passing second. That the object of their focus was were a tool whose usefulness was still being determined, judged to await its proper place and position.
Fitting, given his position and what he’d done.
He saw that she was awake, too, and that she’d focused on him. When he spoke his voice was firm and steady. Controlled, but with a presence to his words. It was a tone she’d heard many times before, through most of her life. But the gaze it was coming from was steely, rather than warm.
“Do you know who I am?”
She nodded slowly, and then when he didn’t speak, gave an answer. “You’re Chairman Prescott. Leader of the Coalition of Ordered Governments. Or what’s left of it.” He nodded, but didn’t reply , simply gazing at her with an unreadable expression, so she continued. “You’re also the one who ordered the hammer of dawn attacks on your own cities.”
That did elicit a response from him. A nod, nothing more, but there was a solemnity to it. Regret, maybe?
“I ordered the most recent lightmass strike as well,” he added. “The one that you were very nearly a casualty of.” There was something to his tone that made her think that if she had been, it would have been measured as “acceptable.” Within the confines of his goals.
He clasped his hands together and leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the arms of his seat. His eyes seemed to bore into her, but she stared back. A lifetime spent under her mentor’s watchful gaze and surrounded by nobles and diplomats had exposed her to just as prying a gaze.
“Curious,” Prescott remarked after a few seconds, leaning back. She hadn’t “won” anything, she knew. He’d likely just grown bored. “You seem to have some mark of bearing and upbringing. Most stranded who meet me either won’t look me in the eyes or are eager to hurl something at me. You seem to be neither. It’s almost as curious as your unusual hair coloration, which the doctor assured me was natural despite their disbelief, and the collection of items that you carried with you.” He reached down beneath his chair, and Sunset’s eyes widened as he lifted up one of Starswirl’s books.
“You recognize them,” Prescott said. “I thought you would. Very curious, these books. At least a few decades old, I would gather, and obviously important to you. But not written in Tyran. Or in any other language recognizable to the Cog.”
She fought to keep her face flat. Expressionless. Prescott stared at her, then continued.
“Interestingly, there was a journal amongst your belongings as well.” His voice was almost dry, like he was bored and had already reached his conclusion. He bent down, and then her journal was added to the stack on his lap. “It bore a symbol similar to the patch on your backpack, and clearly has been written in recently. In the same language used by this book. Or perhaps not a language, but a code. A substitution cipher, of sorts?”
There was nothing she could say to him that felt like a safe answer. Then, to her surprise, he smiled.
“Imagine my surprise when our computers spat out an answer that read like something out of a fairytale. Wizards and magic and spells … Another world full of talking ponies, of all things.” He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he looked down at the books before giving her another smile. “I’m not one to begrudge a love of the fantastic given the state of the world we live in today, nor how important it might have been to someone who’s lived out in the worst of it. I’ve held onto a few trinkets myself like that.” One of his hands slipped to his wrist, rubbing at a watch there, the motion appearing unconscious. “Each of us has something important to us, that we lean on to give us the strength to keep going, I suppose. These books?” He lifted one of Starswirl’s journals, and she almost winced as he tossed it lightly. “A concocted fantasy, perhaps over decades by a family or a storyteller, now used as a refuge against the horrors of the world we live in.. Strange, yes, but …” He shrugged, then locked his eyes on her quickly.
“Are you from the UIR?” he asked, his tone suddenly quite insistent. “One of the satellites, perhaps? Did you walk all the way around the world to get here? The doctors tell me you look to be about fifteen or sixteen years of age, and I can’t disagree. You’re in good health for having made it that far, but you would have been only three or four when the hammer strikes hit. Who were you with all this time? Were these books theirs? What happened to them?”
“I …” She swallowed, then shook her head, breaking eye contact at last. Better to let him form his own conclusions.
“I see.” The chairman let out a sigh and lowered the book to his lap. “It is impressive that you made it this far, given what must have happened to you out there, and who you might have lost. And you almost didn’t make it; the doctors removed some bullet fragments from your shoulder—” She must have reacted, because he smiled. “Yes, you took quite a beating before Lima Squad was able to rescue you. And killed quite a few Locust from what I’ve heard.”
What little warm demeanor he’d held suddenly vanished, the room growing so cold it was as if someone had opened a window and let the heat out. The chairman leaned forward once again, his face stern and cold. A glint of metal caught her eyes: There was a gun in his hand, a pistol, though not pointed at her. Not yet. “I’m going to ask you several questions. Normally I wouldn’t do this, but between your hair—”
My mane? Surprise must have shown on her face, because the chairman slowed, one eyebrow cocking ever so slightly before he continued.
“—and these strange and well-thought-out, if harmless, books, I feel these questions are pertinent. And you’re going to answer me. Truthfully. If you lie, I will shoot you, and you will die. If I suspect you’re trying to lie, I will shoot you. If you ever mention to anyone what I’m about to say to you now, I will have you killed, do you understand?” Ice formed in her belly. “You can nod.”
She nodded quickly, eyes flicking to his pistol and back to his face, readying herself for questions about Equestria, or Starswirl, or—”
“Have you ever heard the name, perhaps mentioned by your parents or your guardians, of Miles Carver?”
What? Who? Baffled, she shook her head. It was a truthful answer as well, though that wasn’t a great stretch, given her true origins.
“No?” The barrel of the gun was still lazily trained in her general direction. “What about Reyna?”
Again she shook her head. “No. I’ve …” She swallowed, her voice firming. “I’ve never heard either of those names before.”
“Not from your parents? Or your family? The one who raised you, maybe?”
She let out a sharp, almost shocking laugh, Prescott recoiling slightly as if he was surprised. “My parents gave me to an orphanage.” In another world. But he didn’t need to know that bit. “I have never heard either of those names.”
For a moment Prescott stared at her. Then, as abruptly as he’d drawn it, the weapon was back in a holster by his hip, some of the sternness gone. “Very well,” he said. “I believe you.” He stood, setting her books atop the end of her bed. Then his gaze hardened once more. “Though I warn you: If you ever mention those names to anyone, ever … I will find out. And then we’ll both find out exactly how much you don’t know.” The menace slipped off of his voice like steam riding on a morning lake, so cold that she shivered despite herself. “Am I clear?”
“Yes sir.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Good. Then we understand one another. Welcome to the Cog, Miss … Shimmer, I believe you claimed? Enjoy your stay.” He gave her books a last glance. “And perhaps consider therapy if you can find it.”
With that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his steps crisp and precise. The door opened at his approach, a soldier clad in black armor just visible through the opening. She’d seen pictures of them before as well. Onyx Guard, the chairman’s personal armed fighting force.
“Anything chairman?” the guard asked, the blue glowing eyes of their helmet looking back at Sunset.
“No, corporal. There’s nothing here that warrants our attention.” The chairman glanced back at her. “Just some valued personal items and a troubled survivor of a young lady who came a long way to see the Cog, heritage be damned.”
Heritage? What about my heritage? The door slid shut without further comment, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
But only for a few seconds. Or maybe it was minutes. Her thoughts still felt rushed when the door opened again, and she looked up to see several silent, unfamiliar faces.
Silent only for a moment. As soon as she’d made eye contact, one of them spoke, a grin breaking out across their face.
“She’s up! See Domingez, I told you she’d be fine! Any girl that walks across the continent to get to Jacinto isn’t going to let a few questions from the chairman get to her.”
The group swept into her room, and she had to fight the inclination to shy back as they spread out around her bed. Who—?
“What was it about?” another armored figure asked her. A man, from his looks. Maybe Domigno? “It was the hair, right? I bet Emerez that it was the hair.”
My mane? Except Prescott had called it her “hair.” Dumbstruck by the sudden appearance of four armored strangers clustered around her bed, all she could do was grab a strand of her mane and look at it from the corner of her eyes. It was cleaner than it had been in weeks, back to its normal coloration.
“People, relax!” A stern voice filled the room, firm but not angry. “And back off. We don’t even know if she speaks Tyran yet.” The fourth and final figure, last to enter the room, stopped a foot shy of the end of her bed, helmet held under one arm. He was giving her a calm but almost silent smile, though it did go to his eyes.
“Right sir.” The three armored figures stepped back from her bedside, hands clasped behind their backs, almost like they were standing at attention.
Wait, she thought. Are they—
“Miss,” the man said, giving her a nod. “I’m Captain Emerez, commander of Lima Squad. We were—”
“You were the ones on the helicopter!” Sunset exclaimed, cutting the man off.
“Hah! She speaks Tyran,” one of the soldiers said, slugging the arm of the man standing next to her. “You owe me a drink, Barns.”
“We were,” the captain said, nodding again. Then his expression softened. “You really pissed them off, kid. I’m glad we got the call when we did. You were cutting it close.”
She couldn’t help it. Sunset sank back, letting out a long, almost manic laugh that quickly morphed into a sob.
“Uh …”
“Hey.” Someone’s hand wrapped around her own. One of the other Cogs, the woman. “It’s okay. You’re in Jacinto. You made it.”
“You killed a bunch of grubs too,” one of the others said. “You’re what? Fourteen? That’s pretty good.”
“Fifteen,” she managed to push out through her sudden sobs. “I’m fifteen.”
“Da-amn. She shoots better than you do Domingez.”
The soldiers let her cry, the tears only lasting a minute or so. Maybe longer, or less. It was hard to tell. But she choked them back at last, embarrassed at the outburst, wiping her eyes as she looked back up the expressions around her. “You’re the ones that saved me,” she repeated. “Thank you. My name is Sunset Shimmer.”
“No shit? That’s actually your name?” Both the captain and the woman holding her hand glared at the man, and he gave Sunset a halfway apologetic shrug. “I mean, you mumbled it to us after we picked you up, but we figured … It’s kind of a weird name, you know?”
“World’s a big place, Barnes,” the captain said. “She doesn’t need you making it small by telling her that her name’s weird.”
“Yeah,” the woman added. “You’re named after a building on a farm. Weirdo.”
“Yeah yeah, point conceded, Mirren.” The soldier flashed a symbol with his hand, probably something dirty, and Sunset let out a faint laugh.
“It’s nice to hear people talk again,” she said as the four soldiers looked at her.
“How long have you … been on your own?” Domingez asked. He looked young, bright eyes peering out from beneath a thick head of brown.
“Too long,” she said, not wanting to give them an actual answer. That would only lead to … questions. She’d need to invent a good cover story later, but for now … The group nodded, seemingly accepting her answer. “I’m just glad I’m here now. In … Jacinto?”
Again she got nods in return. “There’s not much left,” Emerez said after a moment. His own head had the mane cropped shorter than his fellows, but like two of them he looked young. The only one that looked decently aged was the woman holding her hand, Mirren, her mane silvered and her face wrinkled and scarred. “Tollen, Montevado, Jacinto … a few smaller towns. But we’re here.”
“We’re still fighting,” Barnes added.
“Damn grubs haven’t stopped us yet,” Domingez said. “And with the lightmass bombing …”
“You don’t need to tell her about it,” Mirren said, nodding at Sunset. “She was in it.”
“Shit. Right.”
“We went through your stuff,” the captain said. “Sorry, but we can’t be too careful these days. We found the tags you brought back with you. Thank you. I didn’t know any of them, but it’s good to have closure for those that did.”
He shifted, rising from a half-sitting position atop the arm of the chair. She hadn’t even noticed him sitting down. “Anyway, you’re probably tired. My squad just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.” He turned, and the squad moved to follow him, Mirren patting her hand reassuringly before turning away.
“Wait,” she said. All four of them stopped, turning back toward her. “I …” She felt as though millions of questions were running through her mind, all of them begging for an answer. Part of her just wanted to go back to sleep. But she had to know. “What … happens now?”
The three soldiers looked at the captain, and the man let out a sigh. “Nothing much, I’m afraid. For you, I mean. You’re with the Cog now. There’s work to be found, if you want it. A place to sleep and a ration chit. The Cog will get you patched up, and you might be able to argue you’ve got a case for therapy—”
“No.” The word seemed to surprise them as much as it surprised her. “I didn’t come all this way not to do something meaningful.” I came here to find my destiny.
“Well, there’s always something—”
“I want to fight.” Her statement cut him off. All four members of the squad stared at her, some with surprise, some with what looked like weary recognition.
“You sure?”
“I brought you those tags. Those people died for something important. I didn’t come here to hide.”
“She’s got spirit,” Barnes said.
“I want to learn how to fight. You said I’m a good shot. Partially in jest, I think, but I didn’t cower when those Locust attacked me. I fought. I killed. I can do it.” She could feel a fire to her words, and in her chest as well. A conviction. A soothing warmth that pressed aside the faint fear and uncertainty, almost like … Magic.
For a second or two the various squad members stood there, each of them turning toward the captain. Emerez nodded, then walked back over to her bedside, crouching on one knee so that he could look right at her.
“You want to fight?” he asked.
“I do.”
“Do you think you’re ready?”
His words seemed to echo in Sunset’s mind. A question she had never asked. She could feel the pain in her shoulder from where the bullet fragment had struck her, feel the stiffness of the bandages on her face. When she spoke, it wasn answer not just to the captain, but back across time, toward her.
“I’m ready,” she said.
Emerez smiled. “You’ve got spirit, kid. But you need to heal first. And train. Don’t worry,” he said, holding up his hands to stave off her near-protest. “It’s not a no. If you want to fight …” He let out a slight sigh. “The Cog needs every able body it can get. One way or another, if you want to fight, you will.”
“Unless you’re really crazy.”
“Domingez!”
“Sorry.”
“You should be. They let your sorry ass in, and now we have to deal with it.”
The captain ignored their words. “You’re young. But you did survive out there, past the line, for years. Alone or together that counts for something. So if you say you’re ready, well … then you’re ready, and the Cog isn’t going to say no. We need every body we can get, and it’s better when they’re people like you. Survivors. Ones who can fight.”
He stood and extended her a hand. She took it, shaking it, though she wasn’t positive if the shake was wishing her well with the idea or if she’d just volunteered. “I’ll let the doctors know to send you a recruiting officer as soon as we leave and you’re ready for it.” He gave her hand a final, firm shake, then let go.
“It’s early, Shimmer, but welcome to the Cog.”
The four of them said their goodbyes and left, closing the door behind them. Exhaustion hovered at the edge of her awareness, and Sunset closed her eyes, sleep returning with a vengeance.
But she was smiling as she drifted off. I did it. I made it.
And she was going to fight. The sounds of the hospital began to fade, falling away.
I’ll show her that she was wrong about me. One way, or another. This is my destiny, and I’ve found it.
Sleep buried the faint sense of unease in her heart.
END OF SUNSET: STRANDED
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Nicely done, you did good. Can't wait to see what happens next. Also I'm looking forward to the part where she meets Marcus Fenix and the famed Delta Squad.
Damn, just when it was getting real good, ah well. it'd be a real shame if this story never gets further explored... maybe lease it to some other author in the future?
It's a shame that you don't seem likely to continue this story to the sequels, but I get it. Still, I enjoyed reading this from the start, even if it is a bit different from your other works. Maybe some were put off by the sole-protagonist part being a central point of the plot, but that would just mean that now that she has (the potential) for others to interact with that it'd be less of a reason for readers to abstain. Might not be a guarantee, but could be some food for thought. Either way, I personally am hopeful to see a continuation of Sunset's adventures in GoW and will be keeping my fingers crossed that you change your mind sometime down the line.
BTW, congrats!!! You're currently in the featured stories as of the time of commenting.
The sad parte, for me at least, is that we the Reader's, got to experience sunset's Journey, to the end, and still, knowing that is just the beggining of her life in Sera, it just ended, like a cliffhanger.
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makes having read it seem rather pointless now that we know the overall story will remain unfinished.
It was a fun read, I didn't mind the isolation so much, but the scenery gore at times just seemed over the top. But then you're pulling from the Gears franchise which does trend dark and I can't blame your writing for the Locusts genocidal motives. Maybe it's the years since playing and not touching the sequels but why the Locust were trying to kill all humans never got through to me. Though maybe the lack of reason is the point, especially in this story. War is all there is and for Sunset the greater motives mean nothing. I mean, the juxtapost of bright MLP and dark Fallout worked, I guess Gears of War could work too.
Of course, now that you've made me interested things end. I understand the logic in not investing time in story with issues when it's just practice for the story you actually want to write. I'd love some kind of synopsis of where you were going to take it. Seeing the plot hooks about magic / immulsion, Sunset belief that Celestia was sabotaging her, and her drive to do something magically epic to 'prove' her worth to her absent mentor.
This has been a really good read and although you don't have plans for it I'm sure your sequels would have been awesome as well
Thanks for one hell of a journey
I wish you'd continue this in the future. If nothing else, you got me hooked.
I'm sad to hear that this one won't be finished. I very much enjoyed it. Looking forward to what you do in the future.
Lookin forward to book two
I like this story and the next parts sounded interesting. To bad it might not happen, but here's hoping
I would love to see this continue myself even if you had to change styles a bit for the next books.
hope to see this continue in the future
These types of stories always get my attention. Sunset goes through the portal and it either ends up being cannon but under different situations, different by design or as with a few like this one, deliberately changed.
Though I’m lacking a lot of information on the gears games this hasn’t effected the story much and it’s always nice to read a crossover that doesn’t lean heavily on pre-existing plot/story lines with any blanks being filled out with a quick trip to the respective wiki.
It would be nice if there would be more coming and even if you aren’t interested in carrying on yourself you could always find someone else to write it.
Altogether a nice read that I almost didn’t want to end especially with how Sunset seemed to grow as a person just on her journey.
I don't get what all the drama is about.
It was a perfectly fine story, even though a bit boring at times.
11226357
it's the fact it was a pilot episode for a series that was never going to continue a.k.a. a waist of time and emotional investment.
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I understood that after the story ended he somehow earned enough negative feedback to cause him to abandon this.
What I don't understand is what people objected to.
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Recap:
I wrote the story as an experiment to try some new writing techniques and style approaches. It was good enough to publish here, and so after some consideration, decided to.
The story published here has a contained narrative and character arc, it's not incomplete, but could very naturally see future installments for "what would happen next."
Those "what would happen next" installments were very much a "maybe but not very likely" option given my current writing schedule and the many plates I'm juggling.
Several "fans" of Stranded felt entitled to those other installments immediately, and when Stranded ended commenced to mass downvote every other story I'd written on Fimfic to "show me" that I should be "wasting my time" writing anything else, just more of what they wanted.
Instead, having been targeted by such a toxic reaction, I decided Stranded would remain alone, as I refused to feed those toxic fans that had attempted to weaponize downvotes in an effort to get their way.
Said toxic "fans" have remained toxic, refusing to understand that their toxic behavior was what ended any chance of getting more, rather than my refusal to obey their demands.
They attempted to ruin everyone else's enjoyment of my work and burn down the library to selfishly get what they wanted. I will not reward that kind of behavior.
In other words, Stranded had largely positive feedback on the story itself, but attracted toxic behavior that then attempted to selfishly ruin things for everyone else.
Which ... Maybe I should have expected given the behavior of the louder Gears of War fans.