Chapter 4: Summer

Chapter 4: Summer

Not far down the tunnel, smoke began to obscure what little light the pink crystals of the Needler gave off. The smoke itself wasn’t bad, it was the coughing that was the problem. My lungs burned with coughs as my ribs screamed with each involuntary spasm, making me wince and suck air through my teeth in pained grimaces. I could smell burning Essence, the fuel for the magic engines in most motorized carriages - cars for short. The scent was sweet, like vanilla, but mixed with the heavy stench of bleach. Combined with the foul smell of fecal matter, my head was spinning, but I pressed onwards anyway. Eventually, I passed the still glowing crystal embedded in the wall from my test fire of the alien pistol.

I was stuck limping, that’s all I could do; drag my battered body on weak hooves until I found a way out. All that time allowed me to think, even though explosions and screams rang out in symphonies above. I blocked them out, trying to come to terms with the fact that my parents were gone; that two major parts of my life were now missing.It felt like I was opening a gaping wound even wider, tears falling down my eyes, but not from the light veil of smoke. They were of pain, so much pain in a brief amount of time. That’s all the Covenant stands for, O’Neill warned: They swoop down, kill, then leave. They didn’t care how many homes they wrecked, how many children they… they orphaned.I leaned against the wall, supporting myself with a pipe that served as a convenient rail. Gods, I missed them… I missed them so much, and there was nothing I could do, or could have done, to bring them back or save them. Why couldn’t I have died with them? Why didn’t that fucking Spartan save them?I put my back against the wall and slid down, gritting my teeth as my busted ribs made me want to scream in pain. My emotions had left me unable to continue, so I cried and cried, unable to shed enough tears. Slowly, the horrible symphony of screams and death on the surface died with the citizens. All that remained were the few staccatos of assault weapons fire, and energy discharge.Sitting there, I felt useless, broken. Every breath was pain, every move labored. How could I even begin to come to terms with losing my mother, the one who gave me the life I so readily took for granted? Or my father, the one who loved his two mares unconditionally? I didn’t even get a chance to give their corpses a proper goodbye before that bastard desecrated them.Rage boiled in me as the thoughts of the Jackal teased the front of my mind, its beak grinning as it ate. That rage picked me up, and sent me marching forward. Determination was the emotion on my face, and my mind was focused on killing every last Jackal I came across. The Elites were next, and they would be, I would kill them all, and let the Gods sort them out, or I would die trying.Turning a corner I saw the source of the smoke. A crashed LAAT Gunship had smashed a car through the pavement. My thoughts of revenge were shattered when I saw the driver of the car… Oh Gods he was cut in half. Pink and grey entrails hung out the smashed car wreckage like bloody ropes, pooling blood onto hunks of meat. My stomach began to feel queasy, but I didn’t gag. There was nothing left to puke anyway. The LAAT pilots fared no better, both trapped in the cockpit, dead, their arms held up in fear. It seemed that they both were bracing for impact with the ground. The wing of the massive box was just at the perfect angle to serve as a ramp to the surface. Shakily, I walked up the wing, passing the bubble shaped side turret that was shattered open, the Clone occupant nowhere to be seen. I dared not think about opening the sliding door to the troop bay.I gasped at what I saw on the surface when I reached it. Buildings were toppled over, the spires of concrete broken off into jagged spars reaching skyward. Rubble not only lined the streets, in some places the debris completely blocked off sections. One of the Clones’ six-legged tanks was nearby, the three right legs blown off and scorched by hot plasma, making the machine tilt on its side, the cannon turret pointing down. The operator of the massive gun was still stuck in his harness, a sliver of pink jutting from his helmet. There was a loud bang, and a sharp sizzling sound. Looking up, a blue fireball was streaking towards a barricade of rubble, blocking a street beyond a building. The source of the fireball was blocked by a building, so I looked back to the rubble barricade. For a brief moment, I saw Clone rifle barrels poking out from what little I could see of the barricade. Before I could register that a battle was taking place, the fireball landed. The rubble disintegrated in a brilliant explosion of light and fire as I shielded my eyes with my arms. When I turned back to the barricade, it was nothing but dust, completely destroyed. Seconds later, a wounded Clone dragged himself from behind the remaining shattered stone barricade. He managed to crawl a meter in black, smoking, melted armor before a flash of pink embedded itself in his helmet, stopping his movement with a final spasm.A low droning sound came from down the street where the fireball had originated from, its low whine barely audible. I realized that the machine moving towards the Clone’s position was going to spot me, so I slid down the LAAT wing to hide, my aching body screaming internally in protest. In my mind, I mentally added finding some painkillers to the list of things to do.I lied at the bottom of the wing, blood pooling out of the ship where the occupants of the troop bay had died. They were most likely civilians, wanting to escape the coming storm. I just waited, clutching the alien pistol to my chest in preparation to fight if I had to. I let out a sigh of relief as the sound went away, the same boom coming from down the street as the vehicle fired again. I felt sorry for whoever was on the receiving end of that shot.For a minute longer I waited patiently, expecting the sound to return. To my relief it didn’t. Releasing the breath that I was holding, I got to my hooves and climbed back up the wing, each step resounding with a metallic thud. Thankfully when I reached the top, no one was around to hear my racket. I made a mental note next to the painkillers that I should probably be more careful about how much noise I make.I took two steps off the Gunship wing before I froze, my eyes locked on the dead Clone who crawled from the rubble, or more specifically, the large pink crystal embedded in his skull.There was only one conclusion I could come up with to answer why that injury seemed wrong after a vehicle made for blowing things up didn’t hit him with another plasma ball… snipers supporting the heavy weapons.With that street containing certain death by headshot, I looked behind me. I nearly gave a chuckle upon seeing the almost convenient alley literally five meters’ distance away from the hole. Down said alley were garbage cans and dumpsters, along with a few rusty metal doors, and corroded air conditioners still churning out cold air with a loud rattle of the internal fans. Magic generators could power a building for days after the main power was lost. Utilities such as heating and air conditioning could keep running, even if there was nopony to run them.I chose the smart route; the path with plenty of large objects to hide me from Covenant.A quick sprint covered the distance in seconds, and I was in the alley. My body felt like it was lit on fire, and my ribs felt like they were grinding against each other with each pant for air. I could usually run an entire block before slowing, but my injured body wanted to slow down the longer I moved.After a minute of leaning against a wall to rest, I began to take in my surroundings. The alley I had entered stunk of trash, but the foul smell was quickly overpowered by my own scent of burning Essence fuel and feces. It was clinging to my clothing and following me, and it would probably get me caught if those Jackals had half the smelling capability of griffons.My mental checklist was growing with things to do, although ‘bathing’ took lowest priority.Moving further and further down the narrow passageway, I froze in utter fear for my life. It was looking me dead in the eyes, cruel intent on its face. Slowly I backed away from the spider and its silken net, carefully tiphooving around the glossy nightmare called a web, and its Tartarus-spawn builder.I was an arachnophobe, and deathly scared of spiders. I don’t know what it is about them, but they had scared me ever since I was a foal. Shivering in slight fear, I managed to avoid the eight-legged demon, and came out the other side of the alley.I gasped at the sight of a three dead Elites, surrounded by countless bodies of other aliens, intermixed with dozens of citizens. The former residents of Manehattan had died from plasma and Needler fire, but the Covenant had pieces missing from their bodies: fingers, legs, arms; one Elite was even missing a head. It was like a massive explosion had killed all of the Covenant, but left no damage to the citizens. Feeling sick as I averted my gaze from the decapitated Elite, I realized that the other streets that led into the area were all blocked off by rubble from partially fallen buildings. One poor stallion was crushed under a piece of large concrete debris.Well, almost all of the streets were blocked off by rubble. One street was blocked off by two almost intact Covenant vehicles. They were parked side-by-side, and each one had a gun turret, which could have accounted for most of the dead civilians; but the operators of both turrets were torn to shreds. The curved dark-blue painted metal surfaces had deep claw marks running up and down in random patterns. The metal cover over each driver’s seat was ripped open, along with both of the Elite drivers. My best guess was that they were the tanks for the Covenant. Wraiths, I believe I had heard O’Neill call them once.Walking towards the battlefield, I was careful not to trip on the still-warm bodies or fallen weapons. I realized why they looked like they had been killed by explosives; three griffons lay dead in the middle of the carnage and in close proximity with each other. From where I stood, I could clearly see that their talons were stained with alien blood. It was rumored that a griffon’s talons were sharp enough to cut through sheet metal. Add that with their average height of seven hooves tall, with razor sharp beaks, powerful wings, and a keen sense of smell, and one would have a perfect predator species.Luckily for ponykind, they were omnivorous like us, and could just as easily survive on a meatless diet. Although there have been cases in the past of ‘To serve pony.’As I studied the bodies further, there was one thing in particular that stuck out to me as strange. There were only three dead griffons, and each one was unarmed. Any sized group would have definitely lost more facing down this large of a Covenant platoon with tank support, since it seemed that they only used their talons.Stopping my pace as I stood by the griffons, I closed the eyes of two who died with their eyes open, crystal shards embedded in them. The third had hers closed already. I grimaced and shed a tear for my parents as I noticed the two holes burned into her chest, most likely from an Elite’s sword.Stepping away from the bodies, I wasn’t paying attention to where I stepped, and I felt a crunch under my right hoof. Moving my leg to the side, I saw I had stepped on a large needle filled with a red liquid. Next to it was a curved piece of metal, engraved with alien hieroglyphics.I looked at the needle first. I had heard about this stuff - if my guess was correct anyway - that it was a cocktail of drugs called Rage. Some griffon had developed it to sell as a combat drug for soldiers, but the side effects outweighed the benefits. Users became extremely aggressive, as well as having enough adrenaline pump through them to keep moving after multiple gunshot wounds, but any heart condition, or the slightest overdose, and the user would fall dead after it wore off.A single griffon on Rage could slaughter five armed police officers before going down to wounds. Having three on Rage, while working together... now I understand how they could beat a small army with only their talons.Next I looked at the curved piece of metal. It was a silver color, with what appeared to be black rubber forming a hand grip, with a small hump protruding from the center of the curve. It looked like it would make for an uncomfortable grip between the middle and ring finger.In the brief flash that took my parents away, I saw two just like this, tearing my family away from me. Picking it up, I felt pure contempt for the Elites as I held the weapon. Squeezing the grip hard, the weapon sprang to life with a mighty hiss. The sudden appearance of light and sound surprised me, and I dropped the weapon, though it stayed on. I must have triggered a button. I stood there, looking at the sword’s pale blue light. My head began to fiercely ache, surpassing the constant pain in my ribs as the symbols on the hilt seemed to form words. “By the light of this sword,” I spoke, each glyph containing meaning I didn’t understand how I knew, “The path to the Journey shall be found.” I nearly gasped at ‘found,’ it looked just like my cutie mark. Three stars surrounded by a silver ring, with lines connecting all three in a triangle. I closed my eyes and shook my head, the meaning of the glyphs fading. My surprise was quickly forgotten, when the sudden urge to move caused me to turn. I moved just in time for a piece of rebar to impale itself into a Jackal’s body near my hooves. The offender, a griffon female in jeans and a t-shirt, landed a few meters away, but from where I was I could see that the whites of her eyes were almost solid red from being bloodshot. As she began to walk towards me, she let out a sadistic, evil laugh and a near seizure-like twitch.Fear ran through me as I leveled the needle pistol and prepared to give her a warning, but no words came to mind as she took one threatening step forward. Stepping back, I stumbled on the body of a Jackal, giving her time to charge forward. I recovered as I fell backwards onto the front of the Wraith, and pulled the trigger, holding it down. All five of the Needler’s crystals were gone by the time I let go.Three or four struck center mass in her chest, ripping through her ‘I <3 Manehattan’ T-shirt like it were made of wet paper. Each one hummed loudly with energy, right before there was a bright pink explosion that made me shield my eyes. She had been close enough to me that I felt the heat from the blast… and feel a few chunks of flesh pelt the skin of my arm, and face.I stood straight up again, gagged in disgust and horror, bent over, and dry-heaved, feeling a lance of pain from my ribs once again. I could handle bodies… but not this. I could feel pieces of her on me.Trying hard to not think about the griffon, it proved impossible as I began to check myself for chunks of flesh. I quickly found I was covered in blood from the red mist that remained of her upper torso, only her legs, and a few strips of ripped flesh I wouldn’t even call a stomach, were all that remained of my attacker’s upper torso.I didn’t know what to think about killing her. I was mixed between feelings of sheer horror that I just took another’s life by blowing them into tiny pieces; and a strange, almost empty feeling of numbness from the reassurance that I only did it to defend myself. She was drugged beyond crazy and attacked me first with intent to kill.I settled on a disappointed sigh, wincing and feeling bile run into my throat as I wiped a piece of her off of me. The only other living civilian I found in a city of over two million wanted to kill me. The Covenant didn’t even need to send their ground troops. All the Covenant had to do was cause enough panic, and soon everyone would turn on each other while they watched from afar.Pushing the thought of the Covenant out of my mind, I tossed the spent pistol away, since I didn’t know how to scavenge ammunition from the numerous pistols around me. Picking up another off a short alien, I began to look at how strange the alien itself was. It was shorter than most of the humans, and its entire body looked to be made of a blue-grey shell. It also wore a mask over its face, connected to a triangular tank on its back since it was unable to breathe our atmosphere like its companions. I knew for a fact I was looking at a Grunt.Hopefully I wouldn’t have to use its Needler to kill, but the explosion might come in handy against groups, and after the crazy head trip, I wasn’t touching the sword again.I was pulled out of my thoughts on the weapon when a low hum filled the air. Heavy sounding, like the engines in it were struggling with an immense weight. It wasn’t the continuous drones of engines when the Covenant first attacked, but a single ship… a single, fat, blue ship with a Wraith underneath.Cut off from the alley, I pushed my battered body and ran in the only direction that I could. Instead of running past the two pilotless Wraiths and most likely deeper into Covenant controlled areas, I picked a random door and ran inside, throwing the lock shut just in time to hear a loud crash as the alien tank dropped from the ship’s grasp.The blood that covered every centimeter of my skin that was from facing the griffon would lead the Jackals right to me. I felt only horror as I envisioned myself dead on some alien table, becoming a feast for the flock. Suddenly, the four walls surrounding me felt more like a cage than a hideaway.And like the caged, wounded and bloody animal I was, I thrashed and ran, looking desperately for a way out.Whipping my head frantically around the near-empty reception area for an escape route, my pain-addled mind began screaming for me to move, as my heart pounded my busted ribs to dust. I ignored the teeth-gnashing pain as I saw stairs. Stairs were good, stairs were my friend.Running like a madmare, crystals and plasma began firing through the door I had just vacated from. Seconds after ascending the first tier of steps, the first floor wall blasted inward with a rumble of falling rubble and scream of exploding plasma.I had a gun, they had a tank. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a tiny voice waded through the waves of pain to remind me that I was totally screwed right now. I mentally told the voice in my head to go fuck itself and ran even faster - if that was even possible.Even with the adrenalin pumping, I was starting to slow, but I pushed on. “Two, three, four, five,” I counted the yellow floor numbers, panting for air as I passed them. At the sixth floor, I was presented a problem. The stairs leading up to the seventh floor were blocked completely by rubble, and I could hear Jackals’ clawed feet tapping on the steps lower down. They squawked and hissed like they were laughing; I was just game to the Birds of Prey.Throwing open the sixth floor door, I didn’t take in the lovely sight of the almost untouched office space with neat cubicles arranged in a perfect maze. I could have probably split the group into sections, taking them out using the cubicles to hide, but no. I did the logical thing…I fired through the nearest window and jumped--Only to land and roll on top of shattered glass. I found myself cut and bleeding on the top floor of an adjacent building; its roof dead even with the sixth floor. Panting, I just lied there on the scorching asphalt of the roof in the middle of a dying city. Explosions rang off in the distance… more Wraiths.The Jackals caught up with me as I managed to get to my hooves. I turned my head slightly to face them. There were six of them, and like knights of old, affixed to their left forearms, were blue circular shields of energy.I turned to face them completely, and when I leveled my weapon, I realized just a bit too late the Needler I picked up to replace my old one had only one crystal jutting from the top… and I had used that one needle to shoot out the window.The voice from earlier came back, telling me ‘I told you so’ and that I was the one that should go fuck myself.Turning as I tossed the useless weapon down, I spotted perhaps my only salvation. It was a simple metal door. Testing my so-far insane luck on the roof access door, pink crystals of death and plasma began to fly all round me.I quickly opened the door, ran inside, and shut it quickly as crystals began to pelt the metal. It made cracks and pops like hail on a tin roof. My insane luck held out again as a fire axe was placed in a holder, right beside an extinguisher. Taking the heavy metal and fiberglass tool, I jammed the door closed. I did it by taking the axe and wedging it between the push-bar and the doorjamb, so that when the Jackals tried to open it, the fire axe would prevent them from pulling the door.Breathing out a sigh of relief, I winched and hissed sharply as I felt my leg begin to sting. Looking down at my right leg, I noticed my pants were cut. My right leg itself was bleeding slowly from a small gash just below my back-facing knee, a few centimeters above my hoof. Both of my arms were cut badly, bleeding gashes still with glass shards embedded in them ran up and down my arms. I had landed on broken glass, and now I started feeling pain. It flared with each pant for precious air I took. My ribs hurt as well, the pain came in a rushing tsunami, making me clench my teeth and scream through them.I didn’t have long to think about the pain, though. The Jackals were already banging on the metal door with their talons, and I doubted it would hold them long. Pushing my already stretched limits once more, I tried to block out the aches and pains as I put as much distance between the Jackals and myself as I could.In my mad run for my life, I ran down two flights of stairs to the third floor. I gave a sudden stop by grabbing the railing and holding on as I nearly tripped. The stairs abruptly became absent from their rightful place. As soon as I recovered from my sudden stop, I looked down the emptiness. The stairs that led further down were now collapsed at the bottom of the shaft, under the twisted olive-drab frame of a Pelican. It had crashed hard into the building, obviously bringing the stairs with it, and left a gaping hole smashed into the side of the building. I could hear the sound of gunfire and explosions echoing off the remaining buildings through the hole.Looking all the way down to the first floor, I saw the twisted remains of the Pelican’s pilot and shuddered. She had been ejected through the cockpit window; the cuts on her face were evidence of that. The ejection from her chair also caused her to hit solidly against the far wall, splattering blood and crushing her helmet inward, right before she fell and was impaled on rebar jutting from the shattered concrete. I prayed it was quick. To die slowly like that…The gruesomeness of her death caused me to turn away, shaking my head. I opened the nearby door and walked inside, trying to forget about it. The hallway I entered was filled with doors, numbered with letters and room numbers. If these were apartments, then I could probably find something for my wounds in one of the rooms.Most of the doors were closed, but one - apartment Three F - was open wide, almost like it was inviting me in. Entering the apartment’s hall, I realized one thing. The apartment was spotless; no specks of dust were on any of the family photos lining the clean white walls, and the beige carpeted floor was clear of rubble. It was like a bubble had kept the apartment as it was, prior to the invasion.The photos I passed as I delved deeper into the apartment made my gut clench and eyes blink out tears. Behind each pane of glass surrounded by wood, a pegasus mare with a golden mane, a blond unicorn stallion, and a little white haired filly no older than four, stood to the backdrop of Manehattan. Strange thing was… the filly had both wings, and a horn. It was a natural born alicorn.They reminded me of my family photos… ones I’d never see any more, or get another opportunity to have my photo taken on the hill, next to my favorite tire swing, and that gnarled oak tree it’s tied to.I reached out and touched the glass frame covering the precious photo, feeling my heart break just like my ribs. I felt wrong inside as my fingertips left four bloody marks on the glass.Continuing, my heart broke even more. A few photographs down, the filly was gone, then the husband. That left only the mare, sadness in her sun-orange eyes. Another photo later, the mare was still alone, though her civilian clothes were gone: replaced by the crisp uniform of the Equestrian Marine Corps. She looked angry in her black uniform and blue trousers, like she was going to use the saber at her hip to exalt her wrath.“Who are you?” I jerked in shock to see a middle aged mare not four hooves’ distance away. She was wearing a yellow shirt long enough to hang between her forward and back facing knees and an olive green pair of jogging pants.“Come on, out with it,” she demanded. It was the same golden maned pegasus from the photographs. Even as she scowled at me, I could see that her face was sunken with a few wrinkles and her eyes spoke years of pain. Then I realized she had her hand hidden behind her back like she was about to take a bow; no doubt in my mind she had a gun.“H-hello, I’m Midnight Stargazer,” I said weakly with a wave of my hand. I didn’t want to stay silent and risk being shot. And even if she didn’t have the gun behind her back, she could just as easily kill me with a punch. She wasn’t ripped, but her biceps could make most common stallions jealous. A single punch from her would most likely break the rest of my ribs.“I smelled you when you fucking walked in,” the mare said with a hostile snort, “Second Lieutenant Summer Wind, Equestrian Marine Corps, retired.” I finally understood why she had muscle. Summer Wind coked her head to the side, letting out a laugh, “You here to kill me? ‘Cause you look like Tartarus. I would rather my murderer be a bit more presentable, not some dirty, punk ass kid.”“Hubawah?” I sputtered out in sheer confusion at why she would think that. Shaking my head and waving my left hand, I managed to recover, “No ma'am, I’m just looking for first-aid,” then I remembered to mention something incredibly important, “There’s going to be around six unfriendly visitors when they break the roof door down.”“Let them come,” Summer Wind muttered with no hint of bravado as she revealed the large caliber semiautomatic pistol she had hidden behind her back, “This mare still has fight in her.” She sniffed the air, “You still smell like shit. Wash up and I’ll grab some clothes and a first-aid kit.”From her rudeness, I knew we were going to be good friends.The mare then made a motion with her free hand, pointing further into the apartment, “The bathroom has a sign saying bathroom. Unless you can’t read, you should be able to find it,” she said in a semi-hostile tone.“Thanks,” I said simply. She may have been grouchy, but it was the middle of the alien apocalypse, I didn’t have a right to be ungrateful.“Go already,” Summer Wind grunted out annoyed, “You’re starting to stink up my house.” Okay, maybe a little ungrateful.Did I really stink, that bad? Sniffing my shirt I winced and gagged, causing the mare to crack a smile. It was more of a smirk, but smiling’s good, let’s keep it like that. I also did smell that bad. “Well, I thank you for the hospitality,” hostility more like it, “I’m going to go take that shower now.”She gave me a nod, still smirking as I passed her by.Her apartment was a lot different than R&R Tower’s. I went left and ended up in the kitchen, when familiarity with my own home told me it should have been the living room. I quickly found the living room to the right, as well as the bathroom and rushed inside. I didn’t hesitate to start peeling out of the foul rags I considered clothes. As I struggled to remove my pants, I caught sight of myself in the mirror, the sight stopping me in my frantic undressing.I really did look like I’d been dragged through Tartarus… by my hair. The dark blue strands with a single black highlight either ran wild, or were matted to my face by dirt and blood. I was surprised Summer didn’t shoot the mare I had to blink several times to recognize as my own reflection.Checking myself even more, the cuts on my arms were still bleeding, and I could spot faint glimmers of glass in the light. My face had small cuts that would heal in time, but the side of my head was caked in blood when I impacted the ground. I felt the back of my head, it was bleeding too.Spotting a pair of tweezers sitting in a red plastic cup by the sink, I grabbed them and sterilized the metal tongs with hot water. Biting my tongue, I started removing glass shards. They were tiny, though, not the large knife sized chucks one would see stabbing somepony in the movies. No, these were all around the size of half a pencil eraser.By the time I was done, I could have made a bloody and broken glass collage from the fragments. Digging them out had caused me less pain than I thought it would, but afterward, I swore all the blood I had lost thus far was making me a little dizzy.It’s probably just a placebo effect from seeing all the little bloody pieces of glass lying in a pile, I told myself… right?Before I grew even dizzier, I pulled off my pants, my furred right leg now matted with blood from my cut. It was followed by the last two articles of clothing I wore, and I jumped into the shower, turning the hot water on all the way, and only the cold by a half turn.I was hit by a blast of cold water which made me jerk, reminding me I had broken or fractured ribs. Thankfully, the pain subsided as the chilly water rapidly heated up, and steam began to swirl around my body. I didn’t care I was nude in a stranger’s house, I was getting clean. Looking down, the water was running red and brown from blood and dirt. As the seconds passed by, the hot stream began to make me feel like normal again. Even with my ribs painfully throbbing and blood leaking out the several cuts on my body.Where were you when the world ended? I asked myself. Oh, I was standing in a shower, trying to scrub the smell of piss out my fur. I responded, scolding myself as I began to scrub with my hand, since I wasn’t going to use a stranger’s washrag. I felt like a little filly; feeling nothing but shame from my embarrassing act in the tunnel. It had been years since I wet myself like I had today. But could I be blamed? That thing was eating Cherry.Even as hot water washed over my skin and fur, I shivered in fear, feeling sick to my stomach again.Minutes later I had finished. In those few minutes I stood in the shower, letting the warm water wash over me as I thought back briefly to the sword. My thoughts were interrupted when Summer Wind had knocked and entered, leaving some clothes for me in a neatly folded pile on the sink. After I had gotten out, I went to put them on. Surprisingly, they were just my size, the pile containing a white bra, red shirt, a pair of jeans, and… green boxers? I looked at the boxer shorts, unsure exactly what to do with the underwear made for colts.It’s the middle of an alien invasion, and you’re worried about the gender a piece of clothing is designed for. Mare the buck up and put them on, Midnight.Groaning inwardly, I slipped the boxers on. My first opinion was that they were… comfortable, yet strange. I didn’t like the unbuttoned fly of the boxers, they made me feel, exposed down there. Then I slipped the jeans on, which caused me to have to repeatedly tug the jeans to un-bunch the fabric underneath.Give me a pair of panties any day, these things are a nightmare to wear. How does a stallion or colt even wear these?When I was fully dressed and slightly uncomfortable in the crotch region – Gods that sounded perverted – I exited the bathroom. Summer Wind was sitting in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette with a bottle of amber whisky sitting by her right hand. The first aid-kit was sitting on top of the table, the bare wood only decorated by a black plastic ashtray, a half-filled whisky glass with three cubes of ice, her near-empty whiskey bottle, and the first-aid kit itself.She must have heard me close the bathroom door, as once I had shut it, she looked up from the glass of whiskey, “Your buddies must have given up. If they were that desperate to catch you, they would have followed that blood trail you left outside my door.”Stupid Midnight, you were bleeding, that means you were leaving blood drops. It was stupid to stop, but I needed the first-aid and the shower.“Sorry,” I apologized weakly as I began walking towards the table “I’m banged up pretty bad and needed some supplies.”“You need any painkillers?” She asked, her cigarette swaying with each word. I shook my head, my trust of strangers not extending to accepting pills.When I reached the table, I sat in the second of two folding chairs. From where I was sitting, Summer and I had a clear view of the outside through a window. The big Covenant ship was gone, its twin sitting in a crater of smashed building with the Requiem only a few blocks away from it. Even from here I could see the blue bolts from Clones’ rifles, and what looked like hundreds of Covenant soldiers. Thankfully it was all kilometers away, towards the center of the city. R&R Tower was built closer to the outer edge of Manehattan than most other skyscrapers, due to it being relatively new. Adding that fact with the one that I had only made it a few blocks before getting knocked into the sewer, meant that I was close to the edge of the city, and the wide, wide countryside between cities and towns.As I turned my gaze away from the window to the first-aid kit, I opened the plastic box. Summer Wind snuffed out her cigarette in the ashtray and got out of her seat.Standing beside me, she began rummaging through the first-aid kit for items. One was antibiotic ointment. Unscrewing the cap, she turned my still bleeding arm over, and squeezed out a small drop that burned slightly when it touched my wound. “There,” She started, “Rub the drops on the cuts. With everything gone to shit, a single infection will kill you slowly.”I gulped in fear, knowing she was right, and began to rub in the medicine as she applied more antibiotics.“So, Midnight,” Summer said as she wrapped my now bacteria-free arm in gauze and bandage compresses, “You got a family out there looking for you?”“No,” I said shaking my head, “They were… they were killed right in front of me,” I tried to keep in my sob, but failed, “And there was nothing I could do. Why wasn’t that Spartan just a bit faster?”“Midnight,” Summer said as she placed a hand on my shoulder, crouched and looked into my eyes, “I’ve seen people die in front of me. Friends so close to me they were almost like family. I know you’re hurting, but do not blame yourself, or anyone else. Blame the ones who actually did it.”“They’re dead,” I said as I clenched my fists and grimaced in anger. “Then stop and accept that justice was served. I know what revenge killing feels like. It leaves you empty and hollow, a shell of the mare you used to be. Stop while Midnight is still Midnight, not a merciless killer gunning down in the name of revenge.”I don’t know what it was, probably the eyes that read pain, or her dire tone of voice, but I had listened.After our little discussion, she let me have a moment to myself before she continued. I still had that gash on my leg, and it had already ruined the pants she gave me. She saw the blood, and I had to take my pants off in order for her to stitch the wound closed. All the while I had my hands over the crotch of the boxers, and a large blush on my face.“How do you even wear these boxers?” I asked as I slipped back into my pants.“If you think boxers are uncomfortable,” she started with a chuckle, “try having the Marine Corps issue your underwear. After wearing those nightmares, boxers seem like a Godsend.”She was probably right. “Thank you,” I said, “From that stitching, I guess you were an EMC medic?”“No,” Summer said with a shake of her head as she sat back on her own chair, “I’ve just been wounded enough times to know it was a good idea to learn how to fix myself,” the mare let out a mirthless laugh, “After my daughter Snow passed away, my husband, Fall Leaves, left me for someone less drunk,” she said, taking a sip from her glass, the ice having completely melted while she was tending to my wounds.“How does that fit in with the EMC?” I asked eyeing the amber liquid. I really wanted something to numb the pain I was feeling – the emotional toll from my parents’ deaths, and the physical pain of getting a needle and thread shoved through my skin repeatedly. But alas, just like the painkillers, she was a stranger, so accepting alcohol from her was a big no-no in my book.“I’m getting to that,” Summer said tersely, “After my marriage broke down, and my money ran out, I moved back in with my parents,” she laughed, “Their dear daughter coming home drunk every chance she got upset them; so at the ripe old age of thirty one, my parents kicked me out a second time in my life.“Then I crashed while flying drunk, spent a few weeks in a hospital with a broken wing that left me permanently flightless, and realized I needed to get my life sorted out. I joined the EMC, and spent fifteen years on the Equestria/Griffonia border, waiting for various griffon drug-lords to decide to stage their own invasions. I’m retired since I was put permanently out of service after one griffon attack,” she jerked as if she just realized something, “They're so rare in Equestria that I might need to ask you if you’ve ever seen a griffon.”“I was attacked by one on Rage,” I said, shivering at the fresh memory of making the drug fiend explode.She laughed, pulling me out of the funk I was slipping into. “I hated the Rageheads. They were always jumpy as fuck, and took a whole magazine to take down. Careful if you see a Ragehead huff an inhaler of Nitro.”“Nitro?” I asked as I arched my eyebrows in confusion. I had never heard of that drug before.“Yeah, Nitro,” Summer said with a nod as she made a sweeping motion with her right hand, “Gets them high as the Moon. Nitro and Rage, when mixed together with a dose of morphine,” she paused and shook her head slowly, “Have you ever heard of the Black Talon Outpost Massacre?”I shook my head; the mare in front of me was around the age of fifty from what she told me. It happened probably when I was five or so.The mare gulped down the rest of her glass of whiskey, “Damn bloody mess that was,” she said with a slight Manechester accent, “A six hour firefight that got thirty seven soldiers KIA’d, and fourteen others wounded. One of those was a Wonderbolt not even part of the garrison. That was against a force smaller than half of our size, even when we were dug in behind sandbags and concrete barricades.”The EMC Outposts were set up to keep griffons from crossing the border, either to smuggle drugs, or kidnap citizens from the various border towns to sell for ransom. Each one was usually manned by fifty soldiers at a time for security reasons. With everypony there either wounded or dead, that was a one hundred percent casualty rating, and most of them had been killed… damn.She continued, “The Crimson Wings decided to have a party around six in the morning. It was clear that morning, no fog and a clean line of sight while I was on watch in one of the fort’s machine gun nests. The area was a hotspot for activity, that’s why we were issued the heavy machine guns,” She laughed, “Well since our outpost was about six klicks from their hangout, I could use the binoculars I had to see them dancing around fire barrels, huffing Nitro inhalers, and occasionally having some generally unsafe coitus; your standard drug filled party.”She laughed as she shook her head, “That was until I noticed a few started bringing out the Rage. Ten years ago, some griffon decided to start lacing Rage with morphine to try and counteract the increased heart rate problem. Kill fewer users from heart failure that way. Things got out of hand quickly when a few were drugged up enough to consider attacking the nearby EMC outpost just for the fun of it, and when one suggests it, they all follow.”She shivered and poured herself another glass of whiskey, “I called for the alarm to be sounded, pissing off a few other Marines when I ruined their morning chow. Twenty berserk griffons, armed to the beak on drugs that made them unstoppable in a firefight, were on us before you could come up with an appropriate curse for how fucked we were. I took three bullets in the gut as I manned my post for the whole six hour engagement. The Wonderbolts showed up just in the nick of time. We were being overrun, and down they came, like a gift from the Gods. One of them, a Sergeant, now Captain Spitfire, took a bullet as she hauled my sorry ass away from my overheated machine gun.”Whoa… Captain Spitfire saved her life?“There was this one griffon,” Summer said as she looked down and sighed, “A fucking sniper,” a tear fell from her eye, “Before Sergeant Spitfire swooped in, I saw one of my friends get killed by a single flash on the hill. I heard him collapse before I heard the bang. It was one of the Apples, those ponies that own that massive orchard out in Ponyville. His name was Cider Apple, the meanest cuss ever if he was in a firefight, and the best friend to have a drink with. He left a wife and three kids, one of which was still in the womb.”She shook her head, “They didn’t find the sniper,” She laughed, a gleam of old rage in her eyes, “What the coroners found was a sack of meat and feathers with around seventeen .50 calibre holes in it.” Her mood rapidly changed to melancholy, and she let out an almost sad laugh, “All those medals and that purple heart Princess Celestia herself pinned on me weren’t worth shit when I attended my friend’s funeral. I can still see little Applejack crying into her older brother’s shoulder.”Suddenly, I was feeling very, very tired; the weight of my own parents’ deaths catching back up to me in the brief respite from the chaos outside. Turning to the window, I saw just how frenzied it was. The battle still raged between survivors of the Requiem and Covenant ground troops, and what looked like metal coffins with parachutes fell from the sky. ODSTs, the craziest of the humans who volunteered to strap themselves into a tight metal box and fire themselves from a perfectly good spaceship. “And now,” I said as Summer Wind looked outside along with me, “Instead of border skirmishes with griffon gangs, we have a war with aliens.”She nodded, “Yes, we do. Come with me,” she said as she rose to her hooves, stumbling slightly from her inebriation.“Where are we going?” I asked as I followed her. She opened the door and revealed a room. In said room were clothes scattered around, an old bed stripped of covers and pillows, with a large blue trunk at the foot. So far, most of her living arrangements were almost barren. Summer’s a war hero, I thought, she deserves better than a small apartment.Summer Wind walked over to the chest, crouched, and opened it, while I stood at the door. She turned the trunk so the opening was facing me. Inside were photographs of a younger her in desert combat armor, two purple hearts, the Celestial Medal of Honor, and a bronze star. Reaching into the trunk, she started removing items while I walked closer, crouching beside her.The first item Summer removed out the chest was a dull grey revolver which she removed from its holster. It was ornately decorated with a white faux ivory handle, and engraved cylinder with gold leaf print. The barrel itself was cut down to a snub, small enough to fit in one’s pocket. Upon closer inspection, I could see the grey barrel and frame were also engraved in places.Summer Wind let out a small sigh, her tone somber, “My grandmother willed this pistol to my mother, and my mother willed it to me. Since I have no daughter to leave it to after the Gods take my soul into the Everafter, I might as well give it to you.” She said as she gently took my arm and placed the revolver into my right palm, “It’s a .38 special. Grandma carried it whenever she walked the streets, back when Manehattan wasn’t a nice place to live.”“I-I can’t accept this,” I said, trying to give the family heirloom back. I could feel the importance of this weapon to her. It was so strong it was almost tangible.She shook her head, “Snow would have never needed to use it. She was a good kid, innocent and never afraid, even when she knew she was dying.”“She was an alicorn,” I said. She probably would have been brought into royalty.Summer breeze nodded, “And you do not know how horrified I was when she was born with both wings and a horn,” the older mare said, stretching her own wings out.“Why were you upset?” I asked. Natural born alicorns were rare, wouldn’t that be a good thing?She shook her head, “It was a death sentence for her. Alicorns have the innate magic of all three pony races running through them at once. The results on a body that develops too slow physically to handle the magic are painful,” tears began to well up in her eyes and I winced. What made them special also killed them off at a young age. “For four and a half years she was my little princess, trying to make me smile when I was sad, even when her own pain made her cry.”The innocence of a child. “I would have loved to have met her.”Summer Wind blinked a few tears out of her eyes, “Take the damn pistol,” she said roughly, forcing her sadness to turn to anger, “You’ll need it.”I took the revolver and its holster, gently placing it back into the sheath. “Does it have a name?”Summer wind almost burst out laughing while still crying for her daughter, “Grandma once called it Condom on account of how many times it saved her virginity. Manehattan was a bad place to be a mare back in her time. Mom thought it was inappropriate and renamed it to Momma’s Lil’ Helper for no apparent reason. After she passed away, it was handed down to me. Since Mom renamed it, I felt the need to do it as well. The Summertime Special, I called it. It saved my sorry hide a time or a dozen in the Marines as my personal backup-piece. I think you should keep the tradition of renaming it with each new owner.”Looking at the revolver, I smiled, having a perfect name already picked out, “Snow, in honor of its true owner.”Summer gasped sharply, a soft, “Thank you,” slipping from her lips as the veteran marine took me in a tight hug. From how she’s been acting, I didn’t expect her to give me a hug. But even the hardest of people have their soft side.  “Summer,” I began, wiggling away from the awkward situation, and trying to find a way to cheer her up, “Do you know either Flak or Shrapnel?”Summer let out huge laugh, “I know both of them. They kept me supplied with ammo through the six hours of firing my machine gun. That barrel was so damn red you could cook our powdered eggs on the thing for three days afterward. The enchantments were probably the only thing keeping the metal from warping to Tartarus.”“Oh, well they run a gun range now,” I said smiling, glad to have something to talk about her with other than painful memories, “Shrapnel was the one who taught me how to shoot.” Well, my Mom did when we lived out in Ponyville, lots of open fields for a filly with her first .22 rifle to learn how to shoot, but Shrapnel helped me with the bigger guns. “Of course,” Summer said, smiling and rolling her eyes, “Those two would open a gun range. They’ve probably fought their way out of the city by now.”I cocked my head to the side, considering her words, “I don’t think they needed to. Most of the Covenant are focusing on the Requiem.”“Ah, yeah, that Clone ship. Wish we had some of their tech and armor, though why is it white?” She asked almost rhetorically.“The Kaminoans who made them see in ultraviolet,” I said. Summer jerked in surprise, not expecting me to answer her question. “To them, the white armor is a dazzling array of colors.”“Interesting, you learn that from a Clone?”“Yes,” I said nodding, “His name was Cherry,” I looked down, sadness lacing my words as his image filled my memory, “He died… horribly… a few hours ago.”It was a few hours ago… right?“Summer,” I asked quickly, shaking the image out my head, “How long have the Covenant been here?”She shrugged, “Five, six hours.”I jerked in shock as I looked at the clock on her wall… I was unconscious for three of them.“Guess that bump I saw on the side and back of your head was a concussion right?” Summer asked, shaking her head slowly, “You went under didn’t you?”“Yes. When I woke up, everypony was dead but you and a griffon.” Then I realized something as I gave her a questioning look, “Why didn’t you leave the city yet?”The mare sighed and shook her head, “Grimm’s been sharpening his scythe. I’ve got Cancer in my lungs, so I decided to die in the city I loved, and not as a scared refugee,” she put a hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes, and spoke like a mother would a child, “Midnight, promise me this above all things, even keeping a hold of Snow… never, ever start smoking.”I agreed, never intending on starting anyway.She let out a sigh of relief and started pulling more items from the trunk. “Next thing I’m going to give you it this,” Summer said as she pulled out a tan belt with a plastic canteen inside of a sand-colored pouch. Summer let out a lighthearted chuckle and smiled, “When I joined they issued us metal canteens and food in tin cans. Then the Corps started issuing us plastic canteens and MREs. One of the benefits of being old; you get to look back and see how much everything has changed.”“Yeah,” I said agreeing with her, “In the seventeen years of my life, I’ve seen technology go crazy. Cell phones, the internet, DVD replacing VCR, heck there were even rumors that we were going to start building in space.”“The Equestrian Space Station,” Summer said, “I was stationed at the base where a changeling sabotaged the rocket carrying the first piece. The entire project was scrapped shortly thereafter.”Summer pulled out another item from the trunk, a large, desert-tan backpack, “This here rucksack has enough pockets to pack everything but the kitchen sink,” Summer boasted, zipping and unzipping various pockets.“Whoa,” I said astonished, “Why are you giving me all of this?”Summer sighed, “Worlds gone to shit basically, and you need things to survive. Food, water, and weapons. I’m an old warrior way past my prime, so I might as well do something for my country again. Parting with a few things so you can protect yourself feels like the right thing to do.”I nodded as she inhaled, ready to speak again. “Now,” Summer said as she rummaged through the trunk, “here is the good stuff.” She pulled out two wooden boxes. Opening the first, there were speedloaders and a package of .38 special ammo. The second box contained a black combat knife, with a twenty centimeter blade. It would have nothing against that sword…My thoughts were brought back to the here and now as Summer set the boxes to the side. Turning, she reached into the trunk again, speaking as she did, “There’s one more thing I want to give you. Well technically not one, but you’ll get the idea,” She said. I waited patiently as she pulled out the next precious gift from the trunk.Her personal set of desert combat armor. Various shades of tan and brown arranged like leaves. The armor was old, before the switch to digital camouflage. She also pulled out a helmet, sandstorm goggles – just big plastic goggles with a black frame and elastic headband – pants, and black boots.Because of our hooves, Equestrians didn’t have to wear footwear like the humans, but rocks still hurt if stepped on, and boots prevented grinding your own hooves down on long marches.“Thank you,” I said, eyeing the uniform fondly “for all of this.”I immediately began to swap out my t-shirt and pants for the armor. Since there are three pony races, each uniform could be changed to fit each species. All I had to do was zip closed the holes on the back that once allowed Summer to fly in full uniform… if she had been capable of flight.I quickly finished dressing into the gear, slipping the speed loaders into a pouch on the canteen’s belt, along with the knife and Snow in their respective sheaths. I could smell old smoke and sweat in the fabric of the armor. It probably hadn’t been washed in years, but I didn’t complain. Each hole torn in the fabric, and each drop of old blood, told me that the armor had served Summer well.After I had finished, Summer broke down in a coughing fit. When it was over I asked slowly, “Are you okay?”“Cancer, remember,” Summer spoke in a hoarse rasp, wiping the blood I just realized she coughed up on her pants.“I’m sorry. I wish I would have known you before all of this,” I said as I began walking towards the bedroom door. I turned to face Summer, seeing her smile.“Thank you,” She said, “for letting me ramble a while. You don’t know how happy it made this dying mare to get that off her chest. I left the door open expecting a final fight to send me out on my own terms, but instead I got a friend who listened to me with attention.”“I was glad to hear them. It was a little distraction from all that’s going on outside. Speaking of, I’m going to see if I can sneak to the Requiem when nightfall arrives. The Clones there are bound to have a way out.”“Sure,” She nodded, “That sounds like a logical plan. Only one problem,” She stated raising a hand to point one finger to the ceiling, “The alien army separating you from them.”“I know,” I said, already having thought about the Covenant army, “You can come with me and I’d show you how I’d get past them.”“I’m dying of cancer,” Summer spoke lowly, but no hint of sadness in her voice. Then she chuckled, “My coughing will probably get us both killed.”I shook my head, “You spent six hours behind a machine gun against griffons. Cancer won’t beat you.” And if I managed to escape the city with her, I could help her find a doctor.“Thank you,” Summer said as she smiled, “I guess I can babysit you.”“Yes,” I nearly shouted, but forced myself to stay quiet, “You won’t regret coming with me.”“I already do,” Summer said sarcastically as she chuckled. Her face then became serious as she asked, “Do you know where Pack Rat’s storage is?”“No, I don’t,” I said shaking my head slowly, “Why?”Summer cracked a smirk, “Let’s say, theoretically, I violated a few laws and packed away a small arsenal because I used to be a paranoid old broad. We can go straight there, grab some high powered weapons, and then make our way to the Clones.”“Good,” I said nodding my head, “I’d feel safer bringing some more firepower.”“If you agree, shall we head out?” Summer asked without hesitation, gesturing towards the exit.“Let’s,” I replied simply.