Heated? How heated did it get soldier?
“I’m afraid I have bad news,” the doctor said, his white lab coat hanging near his knees and a pen attached to his collar. He levitated a piece of paper before him, a white aura surrounding the clipboard it was upon. “Your Friend, she… how do I break this to you easily?” Kevin crossed his arms, ready for the worst.
“It’s alright doc,” he said, looking to Clarence from his seat across from him in the war room. “We can handle it, we’ve lost people before.” The pony looked hesitant, but nodded and continued.
“She fell into a coma last night,” he said, his face falling slightly as Kevin and Clarence swore heavily under their breath. “I’m sorry. There was nothing we could do. We don’t understand coma like we wished we could, but we have put her on life support. I am suspecting you live an omnivorous diet. Am I correct?” Kevin nodded slightly, running a hand over his cropped Mohawk. “Then I can start her on a higher protein Intravenous drip. I will need your help finding a vein to circulate the nutrients however.” Clarence nodded once, standing from his seat on the bench.
“I can help with that,” he said, placing a reassuring hand on Kevin’s shoulder and patting it comfortingly. “I was training for medic position before I dropped out for combat. I know enough to get the job done.” The doctor nodded and turned to leave, Clarence opening a pocket with the sound of ripping Velcro. “Here,” he said, drawing Kevin’s attention from the floor. He held three magazines of 5.56 NATO rounds before the comrade, waving them lightly. “Go blow some off some steam.” Kevin nodded, taking the magazines as he stood and clasped hands with the private.
“Look after her,” Kevin said quietly, hugging his teammate quickly. “Keep her alive.” Clarence nodded, releasing him and nodding to the doctor before following him out of the war room. Kevin sighed, sliding the magazines into a few empty pockets on his vest and placing his hands on his face as hoof steps echoed from behind him. “Yes Dash?” He asked.
“Ok first, how did you know it was me,” she asked. Kevin let his hands fall to his sides before turning around to face her.
“Your third step drags on the pick up.” He stated plainly, Dash lifting her right rear leg and looking at her hoof. He was right; there were scuff marks on the edge of the hoof.
“Alright, that answers that.” She said. “Second, I’m sorry you have to go through this and that it happened to you.” Kevin nodded, rubbing his forehead.
“Thanks, but I would rather not talk about it,” he said, picking his rifle up from its position against the wall. “Have anywhere I could pop a few,” he asked, lifting the rifle slightly as it nestled comfortably in the crook of his shoulder. Dash tapped a hoof to her chin, looking the human over before nodding.
“Yeah, we have a firing range in the bunker,” she said, pointing across the war room to a riveted steel door with a thick glass panel in the center. “We have a gunsmith there that can replenish any ammo you’ve used.” Kevin motioned his head toward the door.
“Well then,” he said, waving with an outstretched arm. “Shall we?” Dash smirked and shook her head, sighing as she led him across the room.
…
The pop of gunfire echoed around the room as Kevin surveyed the wall of weapons the ponies had developed. He kept pulling rifles and pistols from their hangers, inspecting their properties with a practiced eye and only finding them slightly difficult to work. “I guess it’s because I have hands,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled a rifle with a revolver’s chamber from the wall, laying the fore grip over his arm and nesting his wrist into a crescent shaped brace. He wrapped his hand around the handle, his fingers playing over the pressure plate it used for a trigger. He opened the chamber, tilting it out and rotating the cylinder to make sure it was unloaded. He slapped it back into place, cocking the hammer and pressing the plate. The hammer clicked dry as he pulled the trigger, repeating itself five times, as he tested the double action springs.
“You like that one,” Dash asked, lifting one of her earmuffs away from her ear. “It’s the newest model. It fires a 12.7 by 57 millimeter cartridge that we developed to crack Changeling exoskeletons.” Kevin looked the rifle over, finding a set of wing nuts on the side that held the brace in position. “I’ve used it and I have to admit it works really… What are you doing?” Kevin flicked one of the securing nuts, the item spinning on the bolt before falling onto his hand.
“Customizing,” he said curtly as he slid the bolt from the hole and pulled the brace off. He set the parts on a shelf, holding the rifle more naturally. “That is twenty times better,” he said, silently slapping himself for using a reference she might catch. “So where do I load this thing at?” he asked, Dash flipping the lid off a steel box to reveal rounds in loading spool. “Nicely done,” he said, lifting a spool from the container and flipping the cylinder open. He pressed the round into their slots, fitting snugly before he tore the wax spool away cleanly. Dash slid a stack of targets to him, the black outline representing a changeling drone. Kevin looked at the stack, lifting one and examining the kill areas. He smirked and motioned with the rifle toward the firing area, Dash letting him go first with a bow and motion of her hoof.
Kevin walked past her, holding the targets in one hand while he wedged the butt of the rifle against his hip, walking past several occupied booths toward the far side of the range. He checked the booth, smiling as he found no one inside before setting the rifle and targets on the counter beside the firing window. He looked up to find a rope and pulley system, a set of clamps threaded through the ropes for a target to hang on. Kevin set a target on the clamps, spooling it out to a thousand yards before lifting the rifle from the counter.
“Are you sure you can hit that from that distance?” Dash yelled over the gunfire and earmuffs. Kevin looked back, nodding once and giving her an expression that said ‘Maybe.’ He lifted the rifle, taking a stable stance for the kick he expected from the large caliber round. He sighted up the range, lifting a distance gauge and adjusting the crosshairs to compensate distance. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before squeezing the trigger.
The rifle jumped in his hands, kicking up three feet and scraping the ceiling before Kevin could rein it back in. “Damn!” he shouted, rubbing his shoulder from the impact of the kick. He hadn’t expected it, but the thing had the punch of a golden gloves boxer. “Last time I shot a fifty it was mounted,” he said humorously, rotating his shoulder before aiming again. Again, he fired and again the rifle slammed into his shoulder, but this time he expected the lift and was able to control it. He sighed and shook his head, laying the rifle down on the counter and massaging his shoulder.
“What’s wrong,” Dash asked, smiling smugly. “Too powerful for ya?” Kevin shrugged with his left shoulder, chuckling lightly.
“Like I said, the last time I fired a fifty it was mounted on turret,” Dash nodded in understanding.
“I hear ya,” she said. “When we were issued those they had us spend weeks firing them here to get used to the kick. The thing hits harder than Applejack.” She smirked sheepishly. “I should know, heh…” Kevin laughed lightly before he swung his SCAR around, fluidly fitting a magazine into the breach and cocking the action. He flicked the safety to full auto, holding it at arm’s length to the mare. “What? You want me to shoot your gun now?” Kevin nodded, Dash taking the weapon. Kevin lifted a string from the wall, tying it around the trigger and her hoof so she could pull the trigger. Dash reared up, crooking her hoof around the vertical grip on the front rails and seating the butt stock against her shoulder. She pulled the string, the rifle firing of seventeen rounds before she let go and beamed with glee. “Sweet Celestia,” she shouted, lowering the weapon and smiling wide at him. “This is at least 20% cooler than anything we have! How did you get this thing to fire like that?” Kevin laughed, untying the string and taking the weapon much to Dash’s dislike.
“That would be Intel we are not allowed to share at this time,” he said slyly, winking and shouldering the rifle before firing off the rest of the magazine in three and four round bursts. He straightened back up, lowering the smoking barrel and ejecting the magazine before opening the chamber to allow it to cool faster. “But it is pretty cool huh?” he pulled the rope, drawing the target that now resembled Swiss cheese. Dash’s eyes went wide as she beheld the shredded target, Kevin tearing the inch long strips that hung from the top border off and laying them on the counter in a pile.
He finished his work cleaning his mess, under Dash’s instruction dumping the shreds of the target into a furnace slot in the room before they retreated into a soundproofed room. The area was filled with brass punching machines, black powder drips and a lead casting station. All in all one could suffice to say the room reeked of sulfur and hot metal. “And what could I do fer ya t’day lass” an earth pony with a forest green coat and a brown mane and tail said from behind a work bench as he fit lead bullets into filled brass casings. “Have ya depleted our stock ‘nough fer one day?” he asked in an accent akin to that of the Irish. Dash shrugged and whistled, drawing the stallion’s attention from his work and to the human standing beside her with an alien looking weapon in his hands. “Ah, our rumored vis’tor has decided to test his aim. What can I do fer ya laddie?” Kevin ejected the round in the chamber of his rifle with a pull of the action, catching the round with practiced ease.
“He needs some ammunition to be replaced,” she said, Kevin looking at her slightly annoyed.
“Yes. It is 5.56 by 45 millimeter, 62-grain and has a copper core with a 19-grain Stacked Steel cone.” The pony’s ears perked at the mention of the specification, trotting up and looking the round over with a critical eye.
“You mean it dunnae have any lead,” the pony asked, receiving a nod before smiling like a child with a new toy. “So ye say it replaces Lead with Copper and Steel, eh?” He looked the round over again, taking it in his teeth and trotting back to his workstation before placing it in a machine. “Well I will have ta see if I can get me hooves on the metals, but if I can…” He made a few exclamations of joy and epiphany. “I could make every round we use like this. I migh’ be able ta turn the tide without havin’ ta make the round so damned large.” He turned the crank clockwise, pulling the bullet from the casing. “How many of these beauties did ya say ya needed?”
“Thirty and one to replace that one,” he said, pausing. “And two of the large rounds for one of your rifles I tested.” The pony chuckled, pouring the powder from the casing and sniffing it.
“This ain’t the usual powder,” he mumbled. “What is this?”
“Cordite, we call it. We added magnesium to the mixture to reduce the waste and wear on the weapon while making the powder flash faster and have more thump.” The pony nodded, checking his chemicals and pulling out a small glass jar.
“Ya mean this stuff?” he asked, spooning some out into a dish. The silvery powder shimmered as it cascaded to the ceramic dish, reflecting the light like diamonds. He put the spoon down and touched a propane flame to it, the powder flashing away in a split second. “Whoo! Why have I never thought o' this?” He exclaimed. Kevin smirked at the pony’s enthusiasm. “Now ye said somethin' about larger rounds?” Kevin nodded, rubbing his shoulder again.
“Yeah, I tested the rifle with the revolver chamber.” The pony chuckled slightly as Kevin massaged his shoulder.
“So ye tried Green Ash’s ol’ mule ya did,” he laughed, punching the human with a hoof. “How’d ya like the kick?” Kevin grimaced, remaining silent for fear of offending the pony. “No need ta hold back lad, I’ve had complaints from each o’ the regulars that use the damned thing.” He made a face, using a mock voice of Dash. “I can’t kill the things because my shoulder keeps betting broken.” Dash glowered at him, switching her glare to Kevin when he laughed. “I swear ya cannae please these damned ponies. They want a stronger bullet and ya give it to em and all they do is whine about the fact that it’s too big!” Dash flushed as her temper rose. “But enough o' that. With this I could fix all their complaints,” Kevin shrugged as Dash punched him, laughing further.
“Just make sure to get my order done,” he said. “Your reward is notoriety.” Ash nodded.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, beginning on finding the combination of chemicals to make the Cordite. Kevin chuckled as Dash glowered at him, shaking her head angrily as she led the way out of the range. Dash opened the door for him, Kevin ducking out of the room before the sound of Claxon alarms overpowered the gunfire, red emergency lights rotating on the ceiling.
“Action Stations! Changeling drones are assaulting the town; I repeat Changelings are assaulting the town. Action Stations, Action stations!” Kevin looked up at the light, his mind fading as his training began to take hold. He looked around, the ponies running from the room seeming to be moving in slow motions as his Adrenal response kicked into overdrive. He could feel the change it pushed upon him; his pupils dilating, his muscles tensing, his gut roiling, the smells intensifying and the sounds becoming louder and clearer. Dash tugged on his sleeve, drawing his attention.
“Come on!” she shouted over the alarms, pulling his arm with a hoof. “We need to help!” Kevin nodded, jogging out of the room and into the war room. His mind factored things he had been trained to remember; Ammo count, grenades, explosives and surface physical condition.
“What do we have you louts?” General Silvermane questioned as he donned a set of armor and retrieved weapons and ammo from a closet near the table.
“Teams of two are pulling residents from their houses Sir,” a unicorn operating a radio called. “They are searching homes for us. It’s only a matter of time before they reach the library.” Silvermane nodded, checking if his weapons were loaded and his sword was sharp and slid easily from its scabbard.
“They’ve reached the first block and found our advanced outpost in the town,” another pony called. “Second line radio warning is blaring like a siren. The enemy had Fireball and Good Steward in custody and…” the pony fell silent, taking off his headset and staring at the radio with wide eyes. “They’ve executed Fireball and Good Steward…” Silvermane and the room became still for a moment, falling silent for the loss of their comrade. The general slammed a hoof on the war table, raising his head to look around the room.
“You know the protocol,” he said in a commanding tone. “Those ponies are now on a shoot on sight list. Don’t freeze up.” The room saluted him, continuing their way to their designated locations. “You,” he said to Kevin, pointing his hoof with authority. “Can you help?” Kevin slapped his rifle, releasing the action and loading a round into the chamber.
“Hua,” he said, using Army jargon. “Just send me out.” Silvermane nodded, nodding once to Dash and receiving a quick salute from her. She waved Kevin on, running toward Medical. Kevin followed her, running through the medical wing and grabbing Clarence by his vest. The soldier corrected his helmet, pushing it back to where it was supposed to be and catching the rifle a doctor threw to him. He fumbled with the firearm awkwardly, trying to get his hands to situate on the alien weapon comfortably and securely. Kevin took the rifle from him, pulling the wing nut and stripping the threads, allowing the brace and securing bolt to fall away before he handed it back to him. “You’re the marksman now,” he said, Clarence nodded as a pony hoofed him a bandolier of six round loading presses. “Select your targets carefully, and remember that rifle is a Fifty.” Clarence nodded with wide eyes, never having fired a fifty caliber round from the shoulder.
They followed the ponies through a tunnel, running with them if slightly stooped to compensate for their height. Ahead they could see light, the sound of gunfire reaching them before the exited the tunnel. As they did Kevin ducked and reeled back and to the left, rolling in the air as a bullet zipped by his ear, the heat from the round causing his flesh to feel like it was on fire for a moment. He stood, shouldering his SCAR-L and switching the safety to a two round burst. He squeezed the trigger, repeatedly scoring hits on the bug-like ponies, violet blood like a grasshopper spraying from the holes that now adorned their torsos and heads.
“Fire on those Bugs,” Dash ordered from her perch in the air, a lever action rifle aimed down range and firing on the enemies as they exited the houses on the eastern edge of Ponyville. “Amber Fields and Tolling Bell, circle around the trees and hit em from the side! Golden Ring and Just Hammer grab three others and get into those streets!” Kevin spotted a large rock in the open, squeezing his trigger one last time and sprinting for cover. He jumped behind the rock, sliding across the grass and slamming into the granite boulder with his shoulder. He ejected the spent magazine from his rifle, stowing it in a thigh pocket before slamming another home and releasing the action. He popped up from cover, taking aim and felling three more Changelings before they fired on his position, ducking behind the rock again as rounds plinked off the stone, casting shards of igneous rock around as the lead buried itself in the hard stone. Clarence had turned the other way, Kevin noticed, having climbed a tree and taken position on a thick branch. He was now firing the large caliber rifle into the changelings as they ran between the buildings, pouring from the alleys and into the open field they were in. Kevin waited for a lull in the fire before he popped back from cover, switching his rifle to full auto and unleashing burst after burst of fire into the swarm.
“Dash!” he yelled, ducking to reload again. “Get out of the open! You’re a sitting duck out there!” She dove for the rock as the changelings began to fire on her previous position, landing beside him and rearing up to fire ten shots into the swarm before ducking to reload her rifle from a stripper clip. Three days in this place and I’m back to fighting for my life,” He growled before standing and unleashing a barrage of steel and copper into the encroaching swarm. “Where the hell did these things come from?” he shouted, ducking down again and reloading once more.
“We stopped wondering how they mass so fast a long time ago,” she shouted back, rising from cover and firing on the enemy. “Boom, headshot!” she cheered, pumping a hoof in victory before her eyes went wide and she reeled back, falling to the ground as bullets whizzed past her, one glancing off her chest armor. Kevin peeked around the rock from the side, pulling the pin on a High Explosive grenade and throwing it into the middle of the changelings. He grasped Dash by her armor, pulling her closer to the boulder as the explosive detonated.
The ponies yelled in surprise and fear as the grenade detonated, changelings flying in all directions in various configurations of mangles limbs and body parts. Kevin’s breathing hitched as one of the bugs landed before him, crawling toward him and Dash with his separated upper half, violet gore trailing the drone as it did. Kevin drew his knife, plunging the steel into the bugs head with a backhand swing before shaking the gore from it and returning it to its sheath. “What in Tartarus was that?” Dash asked as Kevin slapped his rifle and ducked from cover, firing on the remaining enemies before standing and calling an all clear.
“Mark Three Concussion Hand grenades,” he said as he checked his magazine and grenade count. “Explosive lethality distance of two meters, and apparently vicious against these things,” he kicked the dead half-body before him lightly, holding up his rifle to signal Clarence to come to him. He lowered the weapon, preparing to turn around before he fell to the ground, a gunshot echoing a second after he fell.
“Medic, Pony Down!” Dash screamed. “Covering fire,” Dash and the rest of the ponies began firing toward the town, shooting out windows and focusing on the towers. She ducked when her rifle was empty, dropping the weapon and turning Kevin over onto his back. He groaned as she did, arching his back and reaching behind himself to pull a wad of lead from his vest.
“Damn,” he exclaimed through clenched teeth, growling and tossing the once pristine 14mm bullet away. “I’m lucky it was from so far away,” he said, sitting up and leaning back against the rock. “My vest isn’t rated for anything over a thirty cal.” He looked up as Clarence ran up to them; crouching and scanning any possible nests the round could have come from.
“You alright Colt,” he asked, looking away from his iron sights for a second to do a visual checkup of Kevin. “Any bleeding?” Kevin shifted his weight to his right side, releasing the pressure on his sore ribs.
“Broken rib maybe,” he replied, opening his vest and BPV and taking them off. He did a quick inspection of the woven Carbon Nano-tube fabric, running his hand over the dented reactive surface to release the tension on the composites and return them to their flexible state.
“Whoa,” Dash muttered as Kevin opened the back of the article and removed a plate of what looked like metal, shaking the plate to turn it gelatinous. He slipped the pack of gel to the vest, donning the gear again and closing it back around his torso.
“Snipers miles off,” Kevin yelled past the pain in his side. “Don’t bother trying to find him, just be careful!” a few ponies nodded, others giving him a quick and lazy salute. Dash stood stunned at Kevin’s durability for a moment longer, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before turning to face the ponies.
“Alright, move up! Hammer and Ring could probably use some backup in those streets!” The ponies shouted various battle cries, slinging their rifles across their backs and galloping toward Ponyville. Dash and Clarence pulled Kevin to his feet, helping him balance before he shrugged them off and drew his 1911.
“Take my SCAR,” Kevin said, shrugging the rifle’s strap off his shoulder and letting Clarence take it from him. “I can’t fire effectively with broken ribs, too much kick on my chest.” Clarence nodded and took a few magazines from Kevin’s tactical vest, sliding them into place on his own before Kevin ordered him to follow the rest of the fighters.
…
The door to Sugar Cube Corner caved in from the top, falling flat on the floor as Kevin ducked with his weapon raised, quickly scanning the room in a strafing motion. “Ground floor clear!” he called out behind himself, watching the stairs and kitchen door as four ponies filled into the room with Bayonets attached. Two of the ponies hurried to the counter, mantling the barrier and taking up position near the door. “On three,” he shouted. “One… Two…” a crash upstairs caught their attention, Kevin turning his rifle to the stairs. “On three breach and ascend,” he called again, nearing the stairs. “One… Two… Three!” The kitchen door was broken down as Kevin led the storm up the stairs and to the second room. “You, left door. You, right door.” He ordered, the ponies under his charge taking their positions. “Breach!” he shouted, kicking the door open as the ponies broke into the rooms. Kevin took aim on a pony shaped outline before him, a knife held between her hooves and straight hair coated in purple gore.
“Break into my room and kill Gummy will you,” The pink pony shouted, stabbing the changeling corpse again and spreading more gore over the floorboards, tears streaming down her face as Kevin let the door hang open. “Threaten the twins… You damn bugs!” She stabbed the corpse again, its eyes and jaws widening as the pressure on its body increased.
“Miss Pie,” Kevin called, scanning the room with his sidearm before ducking the knife that had been in her hooves a moment before.
“No! You can’t have them!” she screamed at him, the two ponies that had breached the other rooms charging in and holding their bayonets ready to defend.
“Pinkie!” Kevin yelled back in a commanding voice, the mare shrinking back at his elevated volume. Kevin sighed as she fell to her rump, sitting and sobbing in the violet gore. He changed his tone, holstering his pistol and walking up to her and hugging her comfortingly. “Hey, hey… it’s going to be alright…” He waved the two off, the ponies saluting and taking up position outside the room. “Come on,” Kevin coaxed, pulling her to her hooves gently to have her fall back with a plop in the blood. “Come on now. Let’s get you out of this stuff and get you cleaned up.” He pulled her out of the blood pool, crouching and lifting her off her hooves and into his arms. He looked down at her, finding her in catatonics, her breathing ragged and tears streaming down her cheeks. He shushed her softly, carrying her out of the room and leaning to one of the ponies outside the door. “Go run a warm tub of water,” he ordered quietly. “She’s moving into shock from the event in there.” The pony nodded, hurrying to the room to the right, the sound of running water reaching him as he held the mare close, keeping her warm with his body heat. The pony returned moments later, holding the door open for Kevin. He nodded his thanks, ducking to get through the pony-sized door. He knelt beside the tub, dipping his hand in the water to check the heat before easing Pinkie into it. She panicked, eyes wide and flailing her hooves in an attempt to escape her supposed captor. “Calm down, calm down…” He repeated softly, the mantra taking effect as she began to relax slightly, her resistance ebbing to no existence once he had let her go. Kevin picked up a cloth from the side of the tub, wetting the rag before wiping some of the gore from her mane. He continued to shush her quietly, keeping her calm.
“Kevin,” A pony said brusquely as he barged into the room, Pinkie flinching and cowering against the wall before Kevin glanced back over his shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt but Commander Dash requests your presence at Rarity’s boutique. She says it’s of the utmost importance.” Kevin sighed, looking back at Pinkie to find her looking terrified at the room. He laid a hand on Pinkies withers, stroking her coat softly in a calming manner. She shook, spraying water over him and causing him to fail at stifling a laugh. As he giggled and snorted Pinkie seemed to perk up, her mane and tail puffing out to its usual rat’s nest of curls as a smile tore its way across her lips.
“Hi!” she shouted, waving a hoof at the gathered beings. “Oh my…” she said in a Fluttershy-esque manner as she saw the purple blood that coated her tail still. “Um… What happened?” Kevin sighed again, still giggling as he settled in for an explanation of current events.
…
“Close it in,” Dash ordered as she held her rifle in her hooves, the bayonet attached to the barrel poised to kill. “Don’t let it escape! I know these things can talk and I want to hear this one sing me an opera!” Twenty ponies in heavy armor rushed to action, blocking a Changeling drone into the corner of Rarity’s basement, the insectile creature hissing and snarling at its obstructers. “Hold the line,” Dash called, moving forward with her charges to immobilize the drone, several pegasi coming up to block any chance of an aerial escape.
“What do you want Dash,” someone called from the stairs, causing the ponies to lose their focus. The Changeling caught their lapse, taking its opportunity to charge their line, bowling through several pegasi and cold cocking an earth pony as it used the armored pony’s flat-topped helmet as a step stool. The changeling spotted something in the doorway, slightly hunched as it entered the room and stood to full height, its head nearly brushing the ceiling. “Holy…” the evident Male voice said, raising his rifle to bear on the drone before the pegasus responsible for its capture spoke up.
“Hold your fire! I want it alive!” The creature obstructing the Changeling’s path lowered his weapon, the drone grinning wolfishly as it continued its charge, intent on goring the creature with its horn.
“Fine,” Kevin mumbled, turning his rifle over with a smooth, precise and near lightning quick motion, waiting until the changeling was almost upon him. He stepped to the side, slamming the butt of his rifle against the drone’s head, causing the creature to fall to the ground, its breathing raspy and shallow.
“You idiot,” Dash yelled as she ran up to the drone and turned it over, the creature appearing dead. She reared up, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him down to her level. “I said I wanted it alive! Why did you have to beat its brain out,” Kevin glared back at her, not liking the way she was talking to him.
“First of all,” he said, slipping his hands between her forelegs and slapping them away with a fluid movement. “Do not touch me in that manner; I could kill you before either of us noticed it. Second, it is not dead, it’s unconscious. And third,” he stopped, standing back up to full height and shouldering his rifle, holding the barrel at the ground to the left. “No one talks to me that way except my Sergeant. You get all that?” Dash glared at him, already blaming him for the problem at hand. He crouched down, turning the bug over before slinging his rifle across his back. He picked up the changeling, holding it in a Fireman’s carry over his shoulders before turning to face the ponies again. “Where do you want this thing?”
…
Kevin hobbled through the bunker below the library, making his way slowly toward the barracks he had been allowed to stay in with Clarence. Ponies gave him nods and hoof bumps as he walked through the crowded room, showing appreciation for his help with the invasion. After several minutes of hopping and limping, he found his bunk, Green Ash in the development station having created human proportioned beds for him and his teammates. He sat on the cotton sheets, the feather padding cushioning his heavy landing. “How’d you do today Clarence,” he asked as he removed his BDU pants, a set of the Human Universal Load Carrier Mk.7 coming into light as he slipped the waistband over his boots. Clarence shrugged, having followed Kevin’s cue and uncovered his own HULC system.
“Could have been worse,” he said, looking back at Kevin as he loosed the securing bolts from the mechanisms, lifting the braces from his shins. “They could have had RPG’s and Kalashnikovs, how about you?” Kevin shrugged in turn, finally getting the complex system of braces, hoses and hydraulic cylinders off his legs, waist and lower back, letting his ruck fall onto the bed next to it.
“Oh damn…” He muttered, sighing and rubbing the small of his back. “About the same, it was a manhunt on the streets, then a breach and clear through the houses, and then…” he shook his head, rotating his hand in the air. “Same shit, different day. Reminded me of Rio a bit to be honest…” Kevin pulled the left half of his HULC 7 over onto his lap, the reactive cloth leggings he wore hardening slightly at the contact. “There you are,” he muttered, pulling a pebble from the knee joint and tossing it aside.
“You mean that hostage situation that blew into a full scale invasion of Brazil,” Clarence asked as he performed a visual inspection of his HULC7 before pulling his pant’s back up. “I had no idea you’d been in the service that long.” Kevin shrugged and stood up, setting his HULC7 on the bed before sitting down into it. Titanium securing clamps snapped over his thighs and shins, Kevin quickly securing them before strapping into the abdominal supports.
“Now you’re making me sound old,” he joked, sliding back into his pants and pulling his boots on. “I’ve been in for seven years. I’ve seen everything from Rio to Kazakhstan,” He laced up the boots, tightening his pants cuffs around them before hauling his heavy pack over to himself. “You know, you probably have no idea what it’s like to not have these legs do you? I mean, these went into mass equipment just two years ago, standard issue like your M4. But when I joined up…” He shook his head as he opened the pack and observed the battery charge. It was half depleted, meaning he would have to deploy his solar panels tomorrow. “This stuff was the envy of every boot. Only the SEALs and Force Recon had this stuff.”
“How was that for you in Brazil,” Clarence asked with a chuckle, lying down on his cot and propping his head up with his hands. Kevin made a pained sounding harrumph, getting up from his cot and grabbing his rifle, leaving his helmet behind. “Where are you going? It’s rack,” Clarence asked, Kevin turning around to grab a couple of grenades from his foot locker before locking it with three padlocks and returning the chain to his neck that held his keys and tags.
“Yeah,” he said, trailing off as he clipped the thin grenades to his vest. “I’m not tired. You get some sleep, I’ll get you at oh-five-hundred.” Clarence saluted him lazily, returning to his previous position and setting off to his scheduled rest. Kevin opened a pocket on his vest, nodding as he looked inside the chest pocket before closing it again.
…
“What is your name,” An alabaster unicorn with a white mane and tail questioned across the steel table, his monotonous voice echoing off the stone-masoned walls of the eight-by-eight room. The being in question stared at him, its forelegs crossed over its breast as it leaned back in the chair, a glowing black ring around its horn and manacles chained to the table falling to its hind and front legs, shackled to its hooves tight.
“What is your name,” It asked in an identical voice, undetectable to be different even by a machine. The unicorn sighed as the interrogator did, mimicking him perfectly. “Where did you come from,” the impostor asked in tandem. “How old are you?”
The interrogator looked towards a window in the wall to his left, shaking his head and receiving a couple nods from two shadowed ponies and a tall human. The unicorn lowered his clipboard, turning around and walking out of the room. As the door closed, the impostor dropped its guise, a changeling drone taking form in its stead without changing its stance.
“What do you think General,” the unicorn asked as he walked into the darkened room. The gray-coated General Silvermane sighed, shaking his head.
“I don’t know what to do at this point,” he said, his gravelly voice vibrating the lungs of everyone present. “I’m not about to fall into torture, or even violent interrogation.” He looked to his right, finding Dash and Kevin beside him. “Either of you want to give this a go? This is, after all, your mess also.” Dash looked up at Kevin, who shrugged and nodded. He pulled a black and bulbous object from his side, releasing its securing clip and slipping it over his face and head. He tightened the straps as he stepped out of the viewing room door, turning right and standing before the steel door to the interrogation chamber. He pulled a black, short cylinder from his thigh pocket, screwing it into a hole on the mask before plugging a wire into one of the many facets on the mask, taking another cord from the mask itself and plugging it into a port on his pack. He opened the door, striding in and removing the restraints from the table, attaching them to the chair and pushing it across the room with a swift yet gentle kick, the back of the chair hitting the wall and causing the changeling to jump in surprise at how fast the creature before it had moved. Kevin walked up to the chair as the drone’s head swayed in dizziness, pulling a Polaroid photograph from his chest pocket and holding it up before the creatures face.
“Here’s a form,” he said, his voice garbled and distorted through the device on his mask. “Now tell me your name.” The changeling shook its head to clear its mind, squinting its insectile eyes to view the photo. It leaned to the left, looking around the photo at its new interrogator, the bulbous face and flat, glossy black eyes causing a chill to creep over its exoskeleton. It closed its eyes, concentrating on the one ability it still had after its magic had been blocked. It opened its eyes after the process was finished, having to angle its sight down at the interrogator. “What is your name,” The masked creature asked.
“Spawn four fifty three,” the changeling said in a female voice, surprising itself as it did. Kevin smirked behind his mask, standing and walking away and leaning against the wall. “What have you done?” Spawn 453 asked, Kevin shrugging.
“What is your directive,” he asked without answering the captive’s questions. He watched as the changeling struggled in its chains. It had taken the form of his cousin, a woman in her early twenties, of light build and long blond hair. Her skin was pale, her eyes deep green and her clothing that of a sub-culture metal fanatic. ‘I still don't get why she doesn’t grow up,’ he thought, returning the photo to his pocket.
“Release me from these binds cur,” the changeling demanded, straining to breath in the new anatomy as its new legs and arms constricted its chest. “Release me before I suffocate!” Kevin sighed, having heard fear in its voice. The sound had sent a spike of worry through him, but he quickly remembered it was not really his cousin. “Release me and I will tell you everything I know!” Kevin lifted his gaze to the changeling’s eyes slowly, doubting the honesty of its words. He looked to the left, as there was a series of rasps against the glass, the General nodding once. Kevin moved into action, breaking the cross-support on the chair legs with his foot lazily to release the securing clamp. He stepped to the side as the changeling fell to the ground, the chains allowing it to breathe but still keeping it curled into a more compact state.
“What is your directive,” he asked, looking down at the gasping creature in his cousin’s skin. He waited for a few moments as its breathing began to calm. It looked back at him, a sneer on its face before it spat at him, light green spittle covering his left goggle lens. “Have it your way,” he said, turning around and walking to the other side of the table.
“What is he doing,” Silvermane asked as he watched Kevin walk away from the drone, grabbing a chair and continuing to the door. “What is he doing,” he shouted.
“Something you said we didn’t do,” Dash said as realization hit her, taking flight quickly and heading for the door to the adjacent chamber. Silvermane slammed his hoof against the glass, trying to get Kevin's attention. Kevin glanced back at him once, slamming the back of the chair against the knob and breaking it off. He pushed the latch in inside the hole, knocking the other half of the system out as Dash slammed into the door. “Kevin! Let me the hell in!” She screamed. Kevin shook his head, propping the chair up against the door with a part of the back inside the hole where the knob had been. “Kevin!” He turned back around, walking around the table and turning the drone over.
“What is your directive,” he said with a commanding tone, the drone staring back at him in defiance. He grabbed the chains securing it, lifting it into the air and holding it at eye level. “Tell me your directive, or this will be the most painful experience of your life.” The drone smiled back at him, remaining silent. “Very well,” he said curtly, turning around and slamming the drone against the table hard enough for its assimilated ribs to audibly crack. The drone grunted in pain, an eye watering despite the bravado it was putting up. “What is your directive?” he asked again. The drone coughed once, spitting the violet blood that had collected in its mouth at him.
“You can make me bleed beast,” it snarled. “But you will never make me betray my queen.” Kevin grabbed the drone by the waist, lifting it into his arms and planting his fist against its ribs, pressurizing the fractures. The drone growled before a howl of pain escaped its lips, Kevin tossing it from his hold and letting it land on the concrete floors. The drone rolled over, coughing and sobbing, muttering curses in a language he did not understand. He approached again, standing over it menacingly as the sound of the door being battered increased. “Do your worst creature. I know my place is to serve my queen obediently, I will not…” Kevin punched it hard, his gloved fist meeting stone as the drone recoiled back.
“Tell me your directive,” he ordered again. “Tell me why you attacked this town!” The drone rolled over onto its hands and knees, pushing itself upright.
“Was that your best,” it asked, pausing to spit a pair of molars from its mouth. “I expected far worse.” Kevin frowned inside his mask, raising his leg and pressing a button on his thigh. He brought the limb down, the concrete caving slightly, inches from the drones head as the hydraulics in his HULC system overloaded.
“My best would undoubtedly kill you,” he said in his disguised voice. “Are you sure you want my best?” The drone’s mouth was agape, its eyes wide and staring directly at the hole in the shape of his boot. He looked the drone’s face over, finding his answer before he wrapped its hair around his hand and pulled it into a sit. The shrieks of protest died as he released his hold, allowing the drone to fall to the wall. “Tell me why you assaulted the town and were trying to capture the residents,” He placed his boot upon its chest, applying very light pressure. “Or your lose this air you love so much.” The drone remained silent, Kevin shrugging and pressing harder. The drone gasped, fighting for air before it waved its hands.
“W-wait…” it hissed with what air remained in its lungs. Kevin relented, removing his boot from its chest and allowing it to breathe. He lowered into a crouch, wiping the drying spit from his goggle. “W-we were sent to…” the drone stopped for a moment, gulping air as it over came the panic it just felt. “Sent to find something; something secret and something obvious, something old and something new.” Kevin grasped the changeling’s collar, pulling it closer in a threatening manner.
“What were you sent to find?”
“We did not know! The monarch told us to find them in that manner, and if we found one of them, she would let us know! I do not know how she does this, but she has done it to me before! I do not know what I am looking for until I have found it! I was sent to find something secret, so I was checking cellars and crawlspaces!” Kevin stared at the creature for a few more moments, releasing it and walking to the door. He drew his pistol, firing it into the latch and letting the port swing open. Dash barreled in, falling over herself before rising and charging at Kevin. He caught her neck and wing, tossing her aside before pinning her with a foot.
“I have your information; get this thing to wherever your general wants it before I tell you what you want to know.” He walked out of the door, closing it as best one now could behind him, the sound of his boots receding down the hall quickly.
…
“Kevin,” General Silvermane yelled as he followed the human through the bunker, traversing one of its many hallways. “Kevin, Stop!” The human ignored him, loosening the straps that held his mask on as he continued on his way. “Corporal I am ordering you to stop!” He stopped in his tracks as Kevin turned around, pulling his mask of and glaring at him with an intensity that scared the general.
“I am not one of your soldiers horse!” he yelled back, throwing his mask at his feet and pointing at him. “I am a member of the United States Army, and I will be damned if I am talked to by some pony as if they command me! I take my orders from my nation’s NCOs and officers, my nation’s leader and my nation’s citizens!” Silvermane returned his glare with one of his own, moving forward and daring the human to try something.
“You are in my bunker, and thus you will follow my orders or I will have you thrown out!” he argued back. Kevin grabbed the general by his mane, pulling him onto his hind legs and staring him down on his terms.
“I don’t have to be here,” he said through clenched teeth as he made his point through words and actions. “I could leave this facility with Clarence and Allison right now, with a clean conscious and an easy night’s sleep, and never look back no matter how any of you grass munching animals begged me to return. Moreover, if you should give the order to use force on us I could defend myself in proper and kill all of you with definite ease. I have the superior tech, training and tactics to hold off an entire regiment of human soldiers like myself, and am willing to die in the process to get back to my sister and brother at home. I could say less of your, ‘Freedom Fighters’. I witnessed more cowardice in that defense than I have ever seen from any fresh boot from the U.S, and I dare you to say anything in their defense.”
The general was dumbstruck, furious and speechless. This creature had just roughly handled him, spoken to him as if he was a foal and insulted his fighters, and all of the embarrassment made worse by the fact that the aggressor scared him witless. “You will leave me alone until I come to you, and until then I will be scarcer than a mouse in a house of hawks.” He released the general roughly, nearly throwing him from his grip and to his hooves before turning, retrieving his mask and walking away. Silvermane watched in near stupidity as Kevin rounded a corner, a plume of dust lingering in the air being the only thing to denote that anything had just transpired.
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i caught myself talking in an arnold accent during the interrogation.....
I luld at the owing of the general by are ranger chum
2125019 this made my morning
2126134
moar
I need MOAR
2161776 It's coming, dont worry :P
I found a video describing the HULC.