Berry's Burns

by ThatGirl2147

Rating: teen
Tags: Other, Adventure, Crossover, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Berry Punch, Human, Doctor Whooves
Length: 9073

When a bizarre explosion sends an SAS commando into Equestria, one would expect something's wrong.

Sgt. Marcus Burns, SAS, is sent into the Everfree Forest by a strange bolt of magical energy, and Ponyville's local drinker stumbles across him.

Published 2012-05-02 03:24:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-05-29 13:23:13 UTC

An Interesting Evening

It was a cold, Winter morning in London Town. It was when all Hell broke loose. Ultranationalist Russians attacked every major European nation, Great Britain Included. Many elite SAS teams were sent in to fight back the terrorists. I was in one of those teams.

I couldn’t remember much, but my team and I had thinned down to just myself and our squad leader, Sergeant Wallcroft, and I was wounded, with a bullet in my right thigh. We still managed to meet up with more SAS as we investigated a lorry we suspected to be used by the Ultranationalists.

I wish our suspicions were wrong.

Without warning, the lorry, and many others like it, exploded into a mighty fireballs that engulfed most of the area about it. I heard Wallcroft scream my name as I felt myself fall to the ground. I didn’t feel the ground, though; I felt nothing. I saw nothing.

But I heard something. It was the most unusual sound I’ve ever heard. It sounded as though everything on the planet simultaneously shattered.

Then, more nothing, followed by a faint tree line.

*************************************************************************************************

It was a nice day in Ponyville; the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and everything was well. A light mulberry Earth Mare was walking around the Everfree Forest to forget about things for a while. She had a puffy, cerise mane with a matching tail and eyes, and a bunch of grapes and a strawberry adorned her flank.

She was listening to the sounds of nature when lightning could be heard, lightning so powerful that it made the mare’s mane stand on end. She looked up and saw a clear, blue sky. She looked around her to locate the source of the disturbance, and saw a faint glint in the darkness of the forest.

“I really shouldn’t go in there,” said she to herself in a light, feminine voice. “I mean, I’ve been told since I was a filly to not even come this close.” She then took a gulp of air and said, “but somepony could be hurt, and I should help.” After that, she slowly trotted through the brush.

“Hello,” called she, “is anypony there? Hello?” After a few minutes of searching, she noticed a scorched piece of earth in a small clearing. Upon closer inspection, she saw a black crater, and a big pile of blackness slumped in the crater. “Hello?” said she again, with no answer. The black thing then began to move, startling the mulberry mare. She jumped back and hid behind a shrub, and waited.

The mare peered out of her hiding place to see what was going on, and almost had a heart attack at what she saw. She saw a big, ape-like bipedal thing with what appeared to be an all-black hide. The thing had a head, but it was covered by what the mare could only think to be a mask. The thing walked, but it appeared to be limping on its right leg. It also released a grunt with each step.

The thing turned, and the mare saw what she guessed were eyes: cold, black pieces of glass that showed no emotion whatsoever. She then fell back, making a rustling noise.

“What?” asked the thing to nopony in particular, “Wallcroft? Is that you?” The mare looked out again, and saw that the ape thing was closer to the shrub, looking about it. “Wallcroft? Are you there? I’m hit. I’m hit.” The thing’s voice then trailed off and it fell to the ground, motionless.

This hit the mare in the right place, because she then hopped out of her hiding spot and looked over the bipedal stranger. It had pockets all about its black hide, and was gripping a very strange-looking device in its fingers. “This thing looks like a monkey,” remarked the mare at the thing’s hands and feet. “Anyway, I should help it.”

At a loss as to what to do, the mulberry mare looked over the monkey again, and saw that it had a small fabric piece on the back of its hide. “Peculiar,” thought the mare, “but good enough for me.” She grabbed the fabric in her teeth and tried to pull, to no avail. “Hmm, big monkey,” thought she to herself.

“Come on, Berry Punch,” said she to herself frustratedly, “you can do this; you’re a strong mare.” She tried again, and made little progress in pulling the big creature, which was almost twice her size.

It took her many hours, but the mare, whose name is Berry Punch, managed to pull the unconscious thing out of the forest and to her home in Ponyville. Luckily for her, she was unnoticed.

The inside of the mare’s house was modest: a few chairs, a coffee table, and a kitchen nearby, as well as a staircase to the second floor. “Oh, Celestia,” thought she to herself at the prospect of carrying this big thing up all those stairs, which she eventually did. Up the stairs was a hallway with a few doors on each side. She entered the third door on the right side to an empty bedroom, her guest’s bedroom. “This is a guest, right?” She snickered at her own joke and dragged the monkey into the room.

The room had a basic carpet floor, bland walls, and a few paintings on the walls, and was furnished by a chair, bed, and vanity. The creature was too large for the bed, so Berry just left it on the soft carpet. After a few seconds, she saw that her carpet under the creature’s leg had taken a crimson tint to it. Worried, the mare looked to see that the creature’s leg was indeed bleeding, and badly.

Berry jumped up and ran to another room to fetch a first-aid kit, and the creature began to stir again.

“Ugh,” said the creature in an accented male voice, “what happened, Wallcroft?” After a look around, he repeated, “Wallcroft? Where are you?” He heard a door creak, and readied his weapon, aiming straight at the door. When it opened, the monkey almost fainted from shock, as did the mare who was standing at the door, first-aid kit in her mouth.

“Don’t move you... horse?” said the creature in utter confusion. He tried to stand, but shouted in pain as he put weight on his wounded leg.

Berry Punch rushed by the creature’s side and held his head in her hooves, setting the medical bag on the floor. “Shh, shh,” said she comfortingly, “calm down; I want to help you.”

The creature shook his head in confusion. “No,” said he, “how can a talking horse help a bullet wound?” He then grabbed the medical bag and said as he struggled with it, “I can do this myself, now how do you open this thing?”

“No, let me help you,” said the mare as she reached her hoof towards the bag.

“I said I can do it myself!” barked the creature, looking at Berry through his blank glass eyes.

At that point, tears welled up in the mare’s eyes. “Okay, okay!” said she frantically as she smacked her hoof on the bag, casting it open.

“Oi,” said the creature, “now don’t cry, Little Pony.” He put the medical equipment down and pulled Berry close to him. “I’m sorry, but I do need your help.” He calmly picked up a pair of forceps from the medical bag and said, “I need you to hold my legs down.”

The mare sniffled. “Okay,” said she, wiping tears away, “why do you need me to hold your legs?”

“Because this is going to hurt,” replied he simply. The mare nodded and obeyed, holding her hooves on his lower legs with all her strength. The creature ripped a hole in what appeared until now to be his hide, revealing a pale tan leg, covered in blood and bearing a small hole. Taking a deep breath, the monkey drove the forceps into the wound and tried to jerk his legs from the pain. Berry’s strength held, and he didn’t move. He grunted and breathed heavily as he closed the forceps around the foreign object. He pulled out the forceps to reveal a bloody ball of crushed up lead and copper. He then set the forceps aside and took a small metal tongue depressor from the bag and gave it to Berry Punch. “Heat this,” ordered he, “hold it over an open flame for a few seconds, and bring it back here.”

Without thinking twice, Berry nodded and left the room with the metal piece, soon returning with it and being extra careful.

“Thank you,” said he gratefully, “now press the hot end on that wound, if you will.”

“Excuse me?” asked the mare, muffled by the piece.

The creature explained, “to cauterise the wound and stop the bleeding, press the hot end against my leg.”

“Okay,” said Berry simply. The creature gritted his teeth and she followed his order. The sound of slight sizzling and the smell of burning flesh made the small mare cringe, and the creature grunted from the pain. After a few grueling seconds, the mare took the hot piece off, revealing a sloppily sealed wound, covered in burned flesh and blood.

Berry was feeling woozy, and looked to the creature, who was barely moving. The mare managed to hear the words, “Thank you,” being spoken before the pair fainted.

What Are You?

After several hours, the mulberry mare awoke, stirring gently. She looked to her side and saw the black creature’s face near hers. “It wasn’t a dream,” thought she as she stood up lightly so as not to awaken the unconscious creature. Looking about, she also saw the open medical bag and scattered medical tools. “Definitely not a dream,” said she aloud as she thought, “I should probably make some food.” With that, she left the room to prepare a meal.

Twenty minutes passed, and the large creature finally began to awaken. He took in his surroundings and said to himself, “it wasn’t a dream.”

“That’s what I said,” remarked Berry Punch, startling the creature.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and then replied, “too weird a day to be sure, eh?”

This made the mare giggle. “Yeah, I guess so,” said she in return. “Oh,” added she as she turned and picked up a bowl in her hooves and held it in front of the creature. “Eat this,” ordered she, “you lost a lot of blood, and protein-rich foods help the blood supply to fill back up.”

The creature used his hands to slide himself to a sitting position, leaned against the back wall of the room. “Thank you,” said he. Before he took the bowl into his hands, he removed the black husk of rubber, glass, and metal covering his head, revealing his true face. He had dark green eyes, a rather ape-like facial structure, and a none-too-impressive coat and mane. His pale tan face was barely covered by a dirty blonde stubble and an extremely short mane atop his head.

The mare looked in awe at the creature’s features. She had no idea what he was, but she couldn’t help but feel that he was rather attractive for his kind. “N.. no problem,” stuttered the mare.

“And,” added the monkey, “I’m impressed that you know so much about medicine.”

This made the mulberry mare blush a rosy red. “Thanks,” said she, hiding her face, “I’ve learned quite a bit from Nurse Redheart, with how many times I’ve seen her.”

“Hmm,” said the creature as he thought. “Interesting name, Redheart,” remarked he. “Speaking of names, have you got one?”

The mare nodded. “Berry Punch,” answered she. “And yourself, Mr. Whatever you are?” Added she.

“Burns, Marcus Burns,” said he in return, “Sergeant in Her Majesty’s Special Air Service.” A bit of pride leaked in his voice as he spoke.

“Her Majesty?” asked Berry, tilting her head, “do you mean Princess Celestia?”

The creature raised his eyebrow. “Princess Celestia?” questioned he, “I’ve no idea who that is. I was referring to Queen Elizabeth.”

“Never heard of her,” replied the mare blankly. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Marcus chuckled at what Berry had said, “I’ve never seen a talking horse, so I’d guess not,” said he, still laughing a bit. “Where is ‘here,’ by the way?”

“You’re in Equestria,” answered Berry, “Ponyville, to be exact.” She stepped toward a window in the room and continued, “a small town, but I think it’s cozy; not too exciting, you know?” She then looked to her guest and said, “well, except you, that is. Where is it you’re from if not here?”

Finishing his soup, Marcus stood up, the room barely being tall enough for him to do so. “Very far away from here, I’d assume,” said he blankly as he sat down on the bed, which was only good for him as a seat.

“And, umm,” stuttered Berry as she kept the questions coming, “and, what exactly ARE you? I mean, you look like a monkey, but I’ve never seen a giant, talking monkey that wore clothing.”

“Oi, I’m not that ugly,” returned Marcus half-jokingly. “But, in all seriousness,” continued he, “I am what’s called a Human. You see, we Humans actually evolved from monkeys over the course of hundreds of thousands of years, so explaining the similarity in appearance.”

For the next hour or so, Marcus and Berry Punch exchanged information about each other, such as where Marcus is from, what Humans were, and what his world was like. Berry, in return, gave Marcus a brief history of Princess Celestia and Equestria, as well as a basic explanation of the different kinds of ponies, what they did, and that lot.

“Also,” thought Berry, remembering back several hours, “What’s a Wallcroft?”

“A what?” asked Burns, needing confirmation as to what he’d just heard.

“Wallcroft,” restated the mare, “what is it?”

“Where did you hear that?” The man was sitting up now, looking at Berry intently.

“When I first found you in the Everfree,” explained Berry, “you were limping around asking about it.”

“Wallcroft was one of my teammates, and one of my best friends.” Burns drew a heavy sigh as he thought of his friend, whom he thought he may never see again. “He was the last person I saw before I blacked out and woke up in that Everfree Forest of yours.”

“I see,” said Berry calmly. “I’m so sorry.” She cautiously climbed atop Burns’ lap and wrapped her forehooves around his chest.

Burns returned the hug, and let his head rest on that of the mare. Her mane smelled of berries. It was a sweet smell, and Burns couldn’t help but smile. He smiled as he leaned back against the wall and drew a relaxed sigh.

Berry watched the man, and asked, “are you okay?”

Burns nodded. “I’m fine,” said he, “great, even.”

“Why’s that?” The mulberry mare craned her head towards Burns in anticipation.

“Well,” explained the man, “I’m relaxed here; completely relaxed. And, where I’m from, there was a war, a massive, bloody war from which nobody was safe. Being in the midst, I couldn’t go to sleep without worrying what I’d wake up to, if I did at all.” He looked around and continued, “I haven’t been able to relax, with little to no worry about my own life, for many years.”

The small mare took in her guest’s words and said in return, “I.. I’m sorry.” With a few more seconds of thought, she added, “I couldn’t imagine what such a life is like.”

“And I couldn’t possibly ask you to,” said Burns. “But, all that matters at this moment is that there’s no need for worry. I’m a guest at the home of a pastel-coloured talking horse in a world of pastel-coloured talking horses, and I couldn’t be more content. Thank you, Berry Punch.” His voice had shifted from one of calm reminiscence to deep sincerity as he thanked the small mare. He looked to the ceiling fan in the room, and sighed again in relaxation.

Berry, without much more to do, started to tidy up the medical supplies, throwing the disposable things away, and general cleaning. “Hmm, what is this?” said she, looking to the device the creature had been holding, which was now lying on the carpet. She picked it up in her hooves, and it was very heavy.

“What’s what?” asked Burns as he looked down, his heart skipping a beat at what he saw. “NO!” shouted he as he dove onto the floor and grabbed his device from the mare’s hooves. He sat up and reprimanded the small pony. “Don’t touch this! It’s dangerous!”

Berry backed away quickly, tears in her eyes. “I.. I’m sorry,” said she, “I didn’t know!” As she finished her statement, she began bawling loudly, obviously hurt by Burns’ harshness.

“Oi, oi,” pleaded Burns, holding his hands on the mare’s shoulders, “it’s alright, Berry. Just, please stop crying.” As soon as the mare obeyed, he explained, “I know you didn’t know, but you could have gotten hurt, badly.”

Berry continued to sob. “Alright,” said Burns to himself and the mare, “you did it for me, and now it’s time I returned the favour.” With that said, the man embraced Berry tightly, lifting her off of the floor.

Berry returned the gesture slowly. Digging her head into the man’s chest, she couldn’t help but cease to be sad. The man’s clothing did little to hold back the warmth that emanated from him, and the mare reveled in it for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry,” said Burns tenderly, “I’m so very very sorry. I shouldn’t snap at my host; it’s simply rude.” Berry Punch giggled at the joke, and Burns drew a sigh of relief.

Berry sniffled and wiped away the rest of her tears. “O.. okay,” stammered she, “but what is that thing?” She pointed a hoof to the device as she asked.

Burns took a sigh, and then held the device in front of Berry. “It’s called a gun,” informed he.

“And what does it do?” asked the mare, not satisfied with the man’s answer.

Burns thought, and then gave a rather raw explanation. “Basically,” said he, “it hurts things. Whatever I point it at, I can hurt with a pull of this trigger.” he motioned with his finger towards the weapon’s trigger.

“So,” began Berry again, “if it hurts things, then why do you carry it?”

“Because, My Little Pony,” answered he, “there are things where I’m from that need to be hurt.”

Then, a knock on Berry’s front door interrupted the discussion. “Don’t worry,” assured the mare as she left the hug and dropped to her hooves, “I’ll get it.” With that, she walked out to greet their guest.

A Doctor And Some Metal

“Hello?” Greeted a nonchalant Berry Punch as she opened her front door. Before her stood a medium-sized, light brown Earth Stallion. His eyes were an aged, faded azure, and he had a short, dark amber mane and tail. An hourglass adorned his flank and he wore a pair of brown saddlebags bearing the same motif.

“Excuse me,” said he politely, “I’m looking for the mare known as Berry Punch.” He spoke in a rather perplexing tone; he sounded as though he knew what to say, but not how to explain it.

“Umm, that’s me,” confirmed the mulberry mare, raising an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

The stallion thought for a second, running a hoof through his spiky mane, before he replied. “Yes,” said he, “that is, if you can help me.” Berry cocked her head to one side. “You see, I’m looking for something, something rather weird.”

Berry nodded. “Okay,” said she in an unsure tone, “what is it you’re looking for?” With that, she moved to one side to allow the stallion entrance.

The stallion bowed his head politely as he entered the mare’s home. He looked around for a few seconds, and asked, “have you got a piece of paper and a pencil?”

The mare opened a drawer on an end table and produced that which the stallion requested. Holding them to him, she asked, “is that all you’re looking for?”

The stallion shook his head. “No,” said he, taking the pencil from the mare’s hoof and setting the paper on a nearby coffee table. “I’m looking for something that looks like this.” He began sketching something on the paper, and set the pencil down when he finished.

Berry looked at the sketch, and felt her heart skip a beat at what she saw. The sketch was of a bipedal creature with hands and feet. “A.. a Human?” stuttered she.

“Yes,” confirmed the brown stallion, who raised an intrigued eyebrow at the answer. “You know what this is?”

Berry put a hoof over her mouth as she realised what she’d said. Reluctantly, she let her hoof down and answered, “yes, I know what it is. I also know where it is.”

“Oh, wow,” said the stallion, “first place I go to look, and I find what I’m looking for. I love that. Doesn’t happen often, you know.” He began to trail off, but caught himself as he shook his head and asked, “so, where is the Human?”

“Follow me,” ordered Berry as she trotted through her house and up the stairs to the room where Burns was staying, with the stallion closely following suit.

The pair opened the door to Burns’ room, and Berry jumped at what she saw. On the floor lay Burns, face-down, pushing his body up repeatedly with his arms, counting each repetition. “Umm, Burns,” began the mare, “are you okay?”

“What?” asked the man, ceasing to move. He looked to the mulberry mare and jumped to his feet. “I see you’ve got company?” said he, looking at the mysterious stallion.

“Good day, Sir,” greeted the brown stallion cheerfully. Holding a hoof to the man, he said, “I’m The Doctor.”

By that point, Burns began staring at the stallion, mouth agape. “You.. you’re The Doctor,” stuttered he, “as in, ‘THE Doctor?’”

“Yes, that’s me,” replied the stallion, “I take it you’ve heard of me?”

“Heard of you?” questioned the man, sounding almost offended, “you’re only the biggest star in the bloody country where I’m from.”

The Doctor nodded. “I see. Interesting,” marked he, “I guess I’m a universal name.”

Burns laughed lightly at the dry joke. “Now that’s proper humour, Doctor. Bravo!” said he.

Then, the enjoyment was cut short by a rough, static white noise emanating from one of the pockets on Burns’ vest. After a second, a male voice could be heard.

“Overlord, come in,” said the voice, sounding very panicked, “come in, Overlord. This is Metal 0-4. I’m wounded and separated from my team; requesting immediate evac.” Then, the voice ceased and returned to white noise.

Burns gasped audibly at this. “No,” said he in disbelief, “impossible. There can’t be another Human here, can there?” He grabbed a small rectangular device from his pocket, which was revealed to be the source of the noise. “This must be my imagination,” thought he to himself. His thought was proven to be false when the voice continued.

“Overlord, come in. Do you copy? Does anyone copy?” The voice was even more panicked, and Burns responded quickly.

Burns held the device to his mouth and spoke into it. “Metal 0-4, come in,” said he, “this is Bravo 6-3. Do you read, Metal 0-4?”

“Roger,” confirmed the voice, “I read you, Bravo 6-3.”

“Good,” replied Burns. “Okay, here’s a SitRep. You’re not in Kansas anymore, Metal 0-4. You will see oddly coloured equines roaming about and talking, but do not engage. I repeat, DO NOT ENGAGE. All equines are friendly, understand?”

After a brief delay, Metal 0-4 replied slowly with, “umm, say again, Bravo 6-3. Did you say talking equines, as in horses? What the hell is that code for, Bravo 6-3?”

“There is no code, Metal 0-4,” said Burns impatiently. “This is serious. Any talking horses you see are friendly. What’s your current position?”

“Looking around,” began Metal 0-4. Between pauses, he described, “I’m in a forest of some sort. I see trees all around me.”

Then, The Doctor broke his silence and said to Burns, “let me see that device.” Burns raised an eyebrow, to which the stallion produced a small silver pen-looking tool from his bag and clarified, “with this, I can track the signal of your friend’s device, and we can find him.”

“Got it,” said Burns to the stallion. He then said into the device, “give me a second, Metal 0-4. We’ll be en route to your position momentarily.” After that, he held it to The Doctor.

The Doctor’s silver device began to glow blue at the tip, and it emanated a winding, whizzing sound. After a few seconds, the device ceased to glow and The Doctor looked at it. “Got it, he’s in Whitetail Wood,” said he blankly. “We haven’t got much time. Follow me.” With that, he trotted quickly out the door, with Berry Punch following suit.

Burns, in preparation, grabbed his mask and his gun before heading out with the ponies.

Before the trio left Berry’s house, The Doctor turned to Burns and produced a key on a chain out of his bag. “Here,” said he, tossing the key to the man, “put this around your neck.”

Burns caught the key with swift combat reflexes. “Yes, Sir,” obeyed he respectfully. With that, they exited the house.

The Doctor wove through alleys and buildings quickly as Berry and Burns kept up closely. “Where are we going, Doctor?” asked the mare, breathing heavily from lack of stamina.

“Here we are!” exclaimed the brown stallion excitedly as he came to a halt in front of a large, blue wooden box with white windows. In bright white lettering above the doors to the box were the words, “Police Public Call Box.”

“What is this?” asked Berry, cocking her head as she observed the blue box.

The Doctor and Burns answered her question simultaneously. “It’s the TARDIS,” said the pair, who looked at each other after they spoke and laughed.

“And what is a TARDIS?” asked Berry, awaiting further explanation.

“No time to explain,” said The Doctor hurriedly, “just step in.” He knocked a hoof on the wooden door, making a loud, echoing clack. With that, the door creaked open, and a brassy gold light emanated from the box. The Doctor walked into the box, and motioned for the other two to follow.

Berry stood back a bit, and asked, “are you sure we can all fit in that thing?”

At that, Burns gave a snicker. “Of course we can,” said he joyfully. With his left arm carrying a mask and a gun, he used his right arm to scoop up the small mare as he walked into the box. “Don’t be shy, Berry.”

Struggling, the mare shouted, “hey! Put me down you...” and then trailed off as she looked around the interior of the wooden box. The interior was much, much larger than the exterior: hallways and walkways ran to many doors about the walls of the room, and massive supports held the structure upright. In the centre of the room stood a giant transparent pillar, with a seemingly unorganised array of switches, knobs, wheels, and other devices at its base. “It’s... it’s...” stuttered the mare in total awe.

“Bigger on the inside?” finished the stallion and man in unison again. They laughed lightly again, and The Doctor continued, “yes, I get that a lot. Now, let’s be off, shall we?” At that, he flipped a few switches and turned a few knobs, and the entire room seemed to roar to life as a grinding, wheezing sound filled the air.

My Name Is...

As the wheezing sound of the TARDIS ceased, The Doctor stepped away from the controls and headed for the door. “We’re here,” stated he, “now let’s go save us a Human.”

“Too right, Mate,” remarked Burns as he donned his mask in preparation. He then took inventory of his weapons, muttering silently to himself, “one MP5 mag, three USP mags, two flashbangs, and a knife.”

Around that moment, Burns’ radio sparked to life again, and Metal 0-4‘s voice echoed through the TARDIS. “Come in, Bravo 6-3. Thanks for the assist. The medic you sent is working wonders on my arm.”

Burns replied, “repeat, Metal 0-4. We didn’t send a medic; we’ve not even arrived at your position yet.”

“Well,” added Metal 0-4, “then I don’t know who sent this equine to heal me. He’s got some kind of horn with weird healing powers.” He was about to continue, but was cut off by the static, which cut on and off in an unusual pattern: four cuts in in rapid succession, followed by four more.

The Doctor looked up from what he was doing, alerted by the strange sound. “Let’s go,” said he blankly, “we have to find him, fast.”

“What’s the problem, Doctor?” asked Berry Punch, worried by the stallion’s urgency.

“He’s back,” replied The Doctor. “The Master’s back, and he’s found your friend, Burns.” He looked to the Human as he spoke, and then added, “let’s go, now!” With that, he ran at full gallop out the TARDIS door.

Following suit, Berry and Burns ran out of the large but small blue box to find that they’ve changed locations; now, the TARDIS was in the middle of a bright, emerald green forest. “This is Whitetail Wood,” said Berry Punch to the man by her side, “exactly where The Doctor told us your friend is.”

“Then let’s find him!” shouted the brown stallion as he trotted, far ahead of the pair.

After a minute of searching, Burns grew impatient, looked to the stallion, and asked, “is there any way to pinpoint Metal 0-4‘s location, Doctor?”

“Well, why didn’t you just ask, Mate?” retorted The Doctor as he twisted the end of his silver pen device and it emitted a repetitive beeping sound, which grew more and more rapid as they walked along. “My screwdriver will go ding when we’re close,” explained he. Within a second, the screwdriver indeed emitted a high-pitched bell-like noise. “Like that,” said he.

the trio then scoured through the woods for the other Human, when they found exactly that. This Human wore similar dress to Burns, though it was coloured differently: a light tan colour, with a small flag of red, white, and blue on his chest. He also wore a fabric mask which covered his face, a pair of dark goggles over his eyes, and a tan helmet atop his head.

The man looked to the two ponies and Human, and then lifted his goggles, revealing a pair of brown, bloodshot eyes. He squinted to clear his vision, and sighed as he confirmed what he saw.

“Good to see a familiar face, eh?” asked Burns, holding a hand to his fellow Human.

The man said nothing as he took Burns’ hand into his own. As he was assisted to his feet, the man reached for a holster on his thigh.

Reacting to noticing this, Burns swept his leg across the other man’s ankles, putting him on the ground once again.

Behind the man stood a light tan Unicorn Stallion with a slicked back brown mane, matching tail, and golden eyes. An hourglass adorned his flank, and he had a devious grin on his muzzle. “Do it, Sergeant Westbrook,” whispered he to himself as his horn began to glow gold, “kill them all.”

Burns’ attention snapped to the man, called Sergeant Westbrook, and saw that his bloodshot eyes were surrounded by the same golden glow that engulfed the Unicorn’s horn. He then reached to the holster on his thigh again, and produced a small device. It was a gun.

A loud, cracking noise ranged out like a bell as Burns stumbled back, dropping his gun and gripping his chest. “BURNS!" shouted Berry Punch as she watched what she surely thought was going to be her friend’s death.

Westbrook, his gun now smoking from the shot, turned his attention to Berry. He sighted in on the mare’s head, and prepared to pull the trigger.

“No!” Burns reached for his thigh to grab something, which looked exactly like Westbrook’s gun, only with a long tube coming from the end. With his swift reflexes, he readied his sidearm and fired, his shot being almost silent. The other man’s gun flew out of his hand as sparks flew off from the bullet’s contact. “Glad I’ve got a tactical vest,” said Burns to himself, feeling the area where the bullet hit, but was stopped by his vest.

Acting quickly, Westbrook jumped to his feet and, with highly skilled movements of his arms and body, knocked Burns’ weapon out of his hand and connected with a punch to his masked face. Both men fought well, but neither could gain the upper-hand over the other.

Meanwhile, The Doctor approached the tan stallion and shouted at him. “What are you doing to him, Master! Tell me!”

The Master rolled his eyes and said under his breath, “you’re under orders, Sergeant Westbrook; kill him, and the mare, too.” His horn’s glow faded to a barely visible tint as he looked to The Doctor and nonchalantly said, “you don’t have to shout, Doctor. But, isn’t it obvious? I’m in complete control over his mind, and I plan on using his heart of a killer to my advantage.”

“And how did you get him here?” asked the brown stallion, still staring daggers at The Master, although he was genuinely curious.

The tan stallion gave a chuckle. “Easy,” said he, “I’ve got a horn, a conduit for powerful magical energy. I honed in on your TARDIS, and mixed my magic with its trans-dimensional capabilities, and picked up a couple Humans.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Why two?” asked he.

“I wasn’t planning on two,” replied The Master, “I was going to just get the SAS soldier here, but that damned mare found him before I could, and then YOU found him.” He glared at The Doctor as he mentioned him. “So, I had to find another, and so I got Westbrook.”

Before The Doctor could speak, The Master said confidently, “and now, you’re going to ask what I plan to do now, yeah?” He looked at him, and continued, “I knew it. Anyway, I’m going to tap into that man’s killing instinct, and cut him loose on the Royal Family. Those foalish Princesses will welcome him to Canterlot with open arms because he’s different, and that mistake will cost them their lives.” He began to laugh a maniacal, disturbing laugh, but calmed down as he continued, “And then, when the War Drums sound, I will strike down the man, and take my place as king of Equestria!”

“What do you mean, ‘killing instinct?’” asked The Doctor.

“Oh, I think you know,” replied The Master cockily. “Humans are warriors by heart, killers by nature. They’ve been fighting wars ever since they’ve existed, and I need that killing ability to take down the Princesses and anypony who stands in my way, including the mare and Burns.” His horn then began to glow brighter as he said, “finish them off, Sergeant Westbrook.”

At that moment, Burns and Westbrook had been at a combat stalemate. Then, Westbrook took in a deep breath and sent several punches into Burns, putting him on the ground. Defenseless, Burns began to relax his muscles and accept his fate as Westbrook picked up Burns’ gun and held it to its owner’s head.

The Doctor took a deep breath, and exhaled as he put his forehooves on either side of The Master’s head. He closed his eyes, and focused.

“Ah! What are you doing?!” barked The Master, trying to break free of his enemy’s grip, to no avail.

In an instant, the golden glow of The Master’s horn flickered a faded azure. The Doctor then let go of his adversary.

“What?” asked a bewildered Master, “What was that? What did you do?”

The Doctor merely gave a sly smirk. “Look for yourself,” said he calmly, pointing a hoof to the two Humans.

Westbrook was still aiming the gun at Burns’ head, but his hand was trembling. Shutting his eyes, he cast the weapon aside. “Not in a million years,” said Westbrook blankly. He then offered his hand to Burns, who accepted.

“Thanks, Sgt. Westbrook,” said Burns gratefully.

“No problem," said Westbrook, “and you can call me Frost.”

“And I’m Sgt. Burns," replied Burns. As the pair of soldiers looked at each other, a comradely respect and trust connected them. Suddenly, it was broken by a piercing scream from Frost as he grabbed his head and fell to one knee. Upon closer inspection, a golden aura surrounded his eyes once again.

Burns turned face and saw The Master’s horn glowing as he stared angrily at the man, and The Doctor unconscious behind him. “You’ve failed me, Sgt. Westbrook, and now you die.”

“Not on my watch!” shouted Burns as he scooped his gun up in his hand and fired it at The Master. The bullet connected with the stallion’s shoulder, and in a spatter of blood, he staggered back and fell to the ground, unconscious. He then looked to Frost, who was holding a hand to his forehead in a daze. “Come on, Frost,” said he as he helped his comrade to his feet, “we’ve got to get out of here.”

By this point, Berry Punch had said absolutely nothing in her utter confusion. Breaking her silence, she shouted in frustration, “excuse me! Can someone please explain to me what’s going on here, who this Human is, who that stallion is?!”

“He’s called The Master,” answered Frost blankly. “He’s an evil being bent on ruling wherever he can find himself. I saw into his mind, and he won’t stop if we die; he’ll just grab himself another Human and try again until he can start a war.”

“Okay,” answered Berry, still frustrated, “then who in Celestia’s name are you?”

Frost took a deep breath, exhaled, and began to answer. “My name is Derek Westbrook,” said he, “I’m a soldier in Delta, the most skilled group of warriors the United States has to offer. My team, callsign Metal, along with other U.S. forces, fought and won the Battle of New York. Now, I’m from Upstate New York, and waging a war that close to home is unnerving to say the least; I wouldn’t wish anyone, be they Human or talking horse, be forced to do it.” He then turned and looked to The Master, who was beginning to stir once more. “You know, when I joined the military, I vowed to protect my country with my life. This isn’t ‘my’ country, but this place is in need of defending, and I’m here to answer that call. Go, Sgt. Burns; get you and your friends out of here, and I’ll deal with this bastard.”

Burns nodded, and then walked to the unconscious Doctor. Nudging his side with his foot, the man managed to wake the stallion up. “Huh, what?” stirred The Doctor as he opened his eyes groggily.

He looked up to see Burns‘ masked face. “Come on, Doctor,” said the man, “we have to go.” As he glanced to the side and saw The Master begin to awaken as well, he added, “now.”

The Master, as he got to his hooves, tried to focus on Frost, but was met by him instead. Frost grabbed the tan stallion and held him tightly under one arm. “Go!” ordered he, “you have to leave!”

“What are you going to do?” asked Burns, almost afraid of the answer.

Frost merely looked to his comrade and replied, “exactly what Sandman’d do.” He then motioned to a trio of small, baseball-like iron balls strapped to his vest.

Burns looked to Frost with concern and told him, “you don’t have to do that, Frost. If he dies, neither of us have to.”

The other soldier shook his head. “You’re wrong,” said he. “I know a lot about him. If he still had a body, even a corpse, he can come back to life. I have to destroy all evidence of him.” Then, The Master began struggling again, to which Frost responded by shoving Burns away and yelling, “Get out of here!” At that, he reached a finger into a small ring on each ball and pulled the pins.

The Doctor dove into a small ditch in the ground, while Burns grabbed Berry Punch and attempted to run away and do the same.

A loud, thundering explosion ripped through the air as a massive ball of flame engulfed Frost, The Master, Burns, and Berry.

Who Dares Wins

The Doctor looked up from his protection as the explosion passed, and what he saw disturbed him greatly: he saw several trees, destroyed and aflame, and the fire was spreading quickly. He looked about, and didn’t see Berry Punch, Burns, Frost, or The Master. Expecting the worst, he shut his eyes and said to himself, “I’m sorry, Friends; I’m so sorry.” And at that, he turned face and trotted towards the road.

With the clear line of sight to the sky from the road, the stallion scanned the air for any signs of life. “Weather Patrol!” shouted he, trying to alert anypony in the near vicinity. He repeated the call, and after a few seconds, he saw four Pegasus Ponies in red vests and helmets flying towards him, carrying with them a dark grey storm cloud. They saw the fire, and began their work, pushing rain out of their cloud onto the blaze.

The stallion watched the Pegasi work, trying to think of a way he could help, when he heard something. It wasn’t the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the burning ground; it was footsteps, along with heavy breathing. “Hello?!” shouted he, searching for the source of the sound. “Burns? Is that you?”

Soon enough, The Doctor’s question was answered as he saw a man-shaped silhouette emerge from the curtain of smoke. It was Burns, and he was carrying Berry Punch in his arms; she was burnt in several places, wasn’t moving, and barely breathing. Burns had removed his mask, and was holding it to the mare’s face. He turned his head and saw The Doctor, then said to him, “she’ll be fine.” He then coughed heavily before he continued, “but only if we get her to hospital, quickly.”

“Then let’s not waste a second,” replied the brown stallion, a look of pure determination showing in his features. He led the man to the TARDIS, where he motioned him in, and then hopped to the controls and set the machine wheezing and grinding to its next destination.

When the TARDIS landed, The Doctor approached Burns, who was weakened and sitting, leaned against a rail of the main platform. “Here,” said he, lowering himself to the man, “put Berry on my back; It’s probably a good idea to keep you away from more populated areas. I’ll admit her, and then I’ll come back and help you.”

The man coughed and complied. “Okay,” said he simply as he tenderly placed the mulberry mare on the stallion’s back. By that point, his mask had slid off of the mare’s face, and was hanging by its straps around her neck.

“Got it,” said The Doctor as he trotted out the TARDIS doors, leaving Burns by his lonesome.

“It’s so bloody hot in here,” said Burns quietly as he stumbled to his feet and looked about the massive vessel. Satisfied with the sights, he removed his black, soot-covered gloves, his tactical vest, his overshirt, and even his boots. For several minutes he stood there in the TARDIS, wearing only his torn trousers, white undershirt, and black socks; he was relaxed. “Who knows?” said he to the air, “maybe I died in that lorry explosion, or maybe I’m just in a coma and dreaming. I should enjoy it.”

As the man thought aloud, the TARDIS doors creaked open, revealing The Doctor, panting from fatigue. “I’m back,” said he between breaths, “now, let’s get to work.”

Burns cocked his head in confusion. “Work on what?” asked he, “getting me home?”

The stallion shook his head. “No,” said he, that one word falling from his muzzle as though it were a leaden weight. “Unfortunately, when The Master died, the rift he created to bring you and Frost here was sealed, permanently.”

“I see,” replied the man, “what about my leg, then?” He stretched out his right leg, revealing past the open hole in his trousers multiple shades of red covering his normally pale tan skin.

The Doctor said to the man, “I can fix that, but only if you want me to.”

“What do you mean?” inquired Burns, as though the answer was obvious, “of course I would like some help.”

“I don’t think you understand,” replied the brown stallion blankly. He then looked the man dead in the eyes and told him, “this is Equestria; it’s no place for a Human such as yourself. So, I want to help you to fit in.”

“And what can you do to help with that, Doctor?” asked Burns in just as serious a tone as the stallion’s.

Instead of a direct answer, The Doctor opened up a compartment under the TARDIS control panel and produced a metal helmet, covered in lightbulbs, wires, and switches. “This,” explained he, “is called a Cellular Modifier. Basically, it can rewrite living DNA into whatever I set it to.”

Burns nodded at the brief explanation. “Okay,” said he, “and why are you showing this to me?”

“Because,” began the stallion, “this is what can help you to fit in.” He turned several of the knobs and switches on the helmet and gave it to Burns. “I’ve set it to convert Human DNA into that of a Pony. You can retain memories of your Human self, or forget entirely, and replace them with memories of yourself as a Pony.”

Burns cringed at the thought at first. “So, you’re saying that this can make me into a pastel-coloured talking horse?” questioned he, “but I’ll still remember being Human?”

“That’s what I said,” answered the stallion. “Is that what you want to do?”

The man leaned back, deep in thought. “Well,” said he, more to himself than The Doctor, “I am kind of out of place as it is. But, being a horse would be simply weird for a long time, until I can get used to it.”

After several minutes of reasoning with himself, Burns came to a decision. “It would be best if I were to fit in, Doctor.” He then placed the device on his head and ordered, “do it.”

The Doctor nodded. “This will hurt a bit,” said he honestly as he flipped a switch on the helmet.

Burns screamed in agony as electrical arcs bounced about his body and the helmet. After a few seconds, his form became engulfed in a bright blue aura which blurred his shape. After several more seconds, he ceased to scream as the blue cloud dissipated, revealing his new self.

He examined his new features carefully: he was an off-white Stallion with a pair of wings, a short, blue mane with lighter blue stripes, and a matching tail. He looked to his flank and saw an image of a sword with large wings, and a ribbon wrapped around the base, which bore three words on it.

“Who Dares Wins,” read the new stallion aloud, a copious amount of pride leaking from his voice as he read the words. As he tried to walk, he stumbled and fumbled about until he fall to the floor. “That’ll take some getting used to,” remarked he dryly, making The Doctor chuckle.

After several hours of intensive physical rehabilitation, the white stallion managed to master walking, as well as obtain a small amount of knowledge on how to fly. “That’s great, Sgt.,” complimented the brown stallion at his friend’s improvement. “Now, all you need is a name.”

“I understand,” replied the stallion. He looked in a mirror on the TARDIS console and saw his dark green eyes. With much thought, he finally uttered a name. “Frost Wing,” said he, under his breath at first, but he repeated it loudly enough for The Doctor to hear. “My name is Frost Wing.”

“That’s a great name, Frost,” complimented the stallion. He then typed something into a typewriter on the TARDIS console, and pulled the resulting document from the machine. “This is your personal file, Frost,” informed he, “it contains all of your information.”

Frost Wing took the paper and read it. All of the information was accurate: his name, his mane, coat, and eye colours, his Cutie Mark, and his age. “Very nice, Doctor,” said he, giving the document back to the brown stallion.

“Everything’s in order, then,” beamed The Doctor. “Now, you should go visit Berry in the hospital.”

Ponyville’s hospital was a rather large building, with a plain white foyer and a reception desk being the first sight when inside. At the desk sat a white Earth Mare with a pink mane, tied in a bun, wearing a nurse’s tiara. “Excuse me,” said Frost Wing shyly, “I’m looking for Berry Punch.”

“Good Day, Sweetie,” greeted the mare joyfully. “She’s in Room 318. Third floor, two rights, a left, and the fourth door on the right.” She motioned with her hoof as she uttered the directions.

“Thank you,” replied Frost with a smile as he followed the directions. Soon enough, he found his way to a door with big brass numbers “318“ on it.

Berry Punch had been asleep for a few hours, and she finally awoke. Groggily, she looked around her bland hospital room. She had bandages wrapped around various parts of her body where she was burnt. She sat up in her bed and glanced at her nightstand; it had a small lamp in its centre, and Burns’ mask lay on it. She tenderly picked it up in her hooves, looked over it, and brought it close to her chest. “I’m sorry, Burns,” said she as tears dropped from her eyes onto the mask. She didn’t hear the door open, but she heard what the stallion behind it had to say.

“That gas mask saved your life,” informed Frost Wing as he walked slowly into Berry’s room. “That mask is designed to protect the wearer from deadly toxins that are inhaled. In that fire, had you inhaled any more of that smoke than you had, you’d have suffocated from lack of oxygen going to your lungs.”

The stallion made Berry almost jump from her bed, but she stayed put. “Wh.. who are you?” asked she, terrified, “a.. and how do you know about that?”

The stallion gently approached the mare and looked into her eyes with is own, shining emerald eyes. “You know me,” said he, “but you don’t know you know me yet.”

Berry’s cerise eyes, though full of fear before, beamed with joy and love for the stallion before her as she realised who he was. “B.. Burns?” stuttered she, “is that you?”

The stallion nodded. “The name’s Frost Wing,” said he.

“But.. but how?” asked Berry in return. “I’ve seen a stallion become a mare, but I never thought I’d see anything turned into a Pony.”

“There’s a first time for everything, Mate,” joked Frost dryly. “I just came to make sure you’re okay,” explained he, “and now, I’ve got a train to catch.”

The mare looked to Frost curiously. Cocking her head, she asked, “a train? To where?”

As the stallion began to exit, he turned and answered, “to Canterlot. I’ll write.” And at that, he left.

With her mind now free from many concerns, Berry Punch leaned her head back and fell into a deep, good night’s sleep.

*************************************************************************************************

Dear Berry Punch,

I said I’d write, and now it’s time I kept that promise. I’m living in Canterlot now. That Doctor fellow left me a note at the hospital reception desk that day, telling me to go to Canterlot. I’ve looked everywhere for him to thank him, but he’s nowhere to be found. Anyway, when I first arrived in the capital city, I was called by name to go to the Royal Guard’s Training Facility, where I was recruited. It feels great being a Royal Guard, protecting the Royal Family; it feels as though I never really went anywhere different than where I’m from. There’s no need to worry about me, for this job pays exceptionally well; I’m well taken care of here. If you ever need a place to stay or you’re low on funds, just send me a message, and I’ll help in any and every way I can. I’ll be awaiting your response.

With Regards and Love,
Frost Wing (formerly Marcus Burns)

*************************************************************************************************

“Frost! Where are you?!” an aged male voice called throughout the drab, tan room filled with bare-metal coloured bunk beds, barely covered by green sheets. The voice belonged to a middle-aged soldier in tan fatigues, a tan helmet, dark sunglasses, and a green tactical vest bearing a small flag of red, white, and blue. “Frost! Report, dammit!”

“He’s not here, Sandman,” said a Black man in similar dress, standing beside another soldier. “We looked in all the bunks and the locker room. Frost’s gone.”

“Well where the hell’d he go, Truck?” asked Sandman, sounding infuriated and confused.

The Black man shrugged. “No idea,” replied he, “we should search the rest of the base.”

“To Hell with that,” barked the Southern drawl of the man beside Truck. “Frost is AWOL far as I’m concerned.”

Sandman nodded. “I’m with you on that, Grinch,” said he. “If he comes back, he’ll wish he hadn’t. Let’s go; we got a plane to catch.” The trio then left the room.

The outside of the barrack wasn’t much different than the inside; a plain grey road leading many directions, several metal benches holding soldiers of various appearances, and a vehicle awaiting the three men.

Sandman looked to a bench near him and looked to the soldier sitting there. “Come on, McCoy,” ordered he, “you’re with us now.”