The changeling and the medic

I went over everything that could go wrong in my head. It seemed like a lot had already gone wrong when (acting) Captain Starstorm had ordered the soldiers to kill changelings on sight rather than to try to capture them - in becoming a medic we pledged to protect and heal the wounded on both sides of a conflict, which would make my life hell if I came across an injured changeling before our footsoldiers did (which I inevitably would at some point). I was damned by our captain if I helped them rather than handing them over to a soldier, I was damned by my superiors in the medical profession if I failed to uphold my pledge to protect the defenceless, and I was damned by both if I fled. It seemed that the acting Captain had failed completely to consider all the nuances and implications of ordering the guards to kill rather than capture.

The best situation for me would be if our own soldiers got injured, so that I would be able to do my job without having to deal with changelings, but I couldn't wish for that, especially considering that if our own soldiers got injured at the same rate that changelings did we'd end up losing the battle. The changelings generally weren't too considerate to their defeated enemies anyway, and the fact they were now being slaughtered would give them justification to do the same to us.

It had only been a couple of minutes since the order had gone out, and I was still panicking, despite managing to at least appear calm. I'd been assigned to a small group of guards - 3 unicorns and 4 earth ponies, and we were cautiously marching through an open corridor in the castle. I was trained to be working on the front line of battle, but not in a group as small as this, while there were other, larger groups with no medical staff with them and which would be far more likely to need them. I wasn't sure if any of us really knew where we were going, either, as the orders given to us had been very confused. We'd been told to "patrol down the west corridor", which wasn't exactly helpful as there were multiple floors with multiple corridors heading west, each of them in different turrets and towers of the castle. It seemed that our acting captain had difficulties thinking three dimensionally, and it was likely he didn't really know the way around the castle either.

You may be getting the impression that I don't view our acting captain very highly, and you'd be right. I don't. I'd never have said so at the time, but he was an incompetent moron who had absolutely no idea how to defend a castle. Starstorm was also proud and arrogant at a level to rival Prince Blueblood, and treated soldiers more like toys than as ponies. If Shining Armour hadn't been staying miles away with his wife it's likely that this invasion wouldn't have even happened, and even if it had we probably would have been able to hold with ease and minimal loss of life.

There was a wall to our right, and to our left a line of pillars which held up the roof above us. The space to the left opened onto a balcony from which an archer unicorn mare was trying to shoot changelings attacking from above. None of the changelings seemed particularly interested in our part of the castle, but the archer was attracting their attention, and the unicorns of my squad moved forwards to help her with magical bolts. Their horns began to glow with energy and the earth spearponies moved around them to help defend, should the changelings try to dive at us.

There was a group of five changelings which were skirting just outside the accurate range of the archer, getting into formation. Their eyes were locked on to her, and it was clear they were preparing to strike. Bolts of green began to fly from their horns at the lone bowmare while they remained outside the range of her arrows. They had to have been at least thirty yards away, and they kept dodging arrows while firing at her and missing. It struck me that the mare was aiming perfectly so that the changelings had to fly out of the way of her arrows, but that the changelings were missing her with every shot and she didn't move an inch. The 3 unicorns around me were also aiming well with magical bolts. Were the changelings missing on purpose, or were they just terrible shots? The latter didn't seem plausible considering what I knew about both magic and changelings, so WHY were they missing on purpose?

I was fully expecting a sudden trick move from the changelings, but they didn't get a chance to make it. The mare moved first. The changelings were looking at us to dodge our attacks, so they didn't see the mare use her magic to turn the last arrow she shot in mid-air once it had passed a changeling. It struck the changeling in the lower back and pierced through its belly, the tip green with its blood.

I knew a lot about changeling anatomy. It would be unlikely that this injury would be fatal as it had missed the locations of any vital organs, though the changeling would likely be incapacitated for a few minutes. The shape shifting ability of changelings also allowed them to shift from injured to uninjured forms, but it would be in a fair amount of pain whether it did this or not. The hit changeling slowly floated down towards an adjacent balcony and the other four made their move.

They immediately charged towards the bowmare, surrounded by magical fields. My squad ran forwards to help them and the bowmare drew a sword with her magic and slashed towards the first changeling. The sword was ineffective. It bounced off of the green cone of magic and, conveniently, into the side of the next changeling. In the split second between the sword hitting the magic of the first changeling and the side of the second, the first changeling landed on the flank of the bowmare. I'd seen changelings impact the ground before from a missed aerial charge, and I'd wondered what would happen if they hit their target. It was as I'd expected: messy. The small blast had ripped the mare in half, and there was a large pool of charred viscera where the changeling had landed. The changeling's lower half was covered in red blood, and the blood had also splattered onto the 3 changelings which landed alongside and onto the ponies who had charged forward in the hope of helping.

It instantly struck me that I'd never actually seen a pony die before. At least the first time I saw it, despite not being as clean as I would have hoped, was effectively painless for the victim. I looked at her face. It was yellow-grey and covered in blood. Her mane was orange. Her mouth hung open, but her eyes were shut.

I didn't have time to notice anything else about the victim as the two groups collided. I didn't see what had happened to the changeling hit in the back by the sword - to be honest I didn't really see anything. I was looking at 7 ponies and 4 changelings in melee, and all I could see of it was the rear ends of the ponies.

One of the changelings was forced off of the balcony and flew up and over the ponies, leaving its companions dead. It flew straight at me, with its hooves outstretched. I'm not sure why, but at this point I was more concerned with looking at the bodies on the edge of the balcony rather than with potential imminent death. I was trying to check for any signs of serious, but non-fatal injuries in the combatants, as was my duty as a medic, but it was virtually impossible to do so when all the ponies and changelings were covered in each other's blood. The red and green was mixing together in places to give a disgusting brown colour.

I looked up, and was instantly knocked back against the wall. The changeling had me pinned against it with its forehooves and was staring me in the face while I stared back. It was only for a split second, as the changeling turned its head to defend itself against my companions. It fired a magic bolt in their direction, which was answered by having a spear driven through its chest via telekinesis. The spear cut my own chest through the changeling, though it was obvious to me that the injury to myself wasn't serious, while that to the changeling was.

The changeling fell back a short way, remaining propped up by the spear. It hissed at my face while blood poured from its mouth and its chest. Our corporal (one of the three unicorns) walked up alongside it. The changeling and my officer stared at each other for a few seconds. The changeling was gasping for air, and clutching at the spear in its chest as best it could. The corporal was just smiling.

It felt very awkward, a spear with my blood on it pointing towards me with a dying changeling on it and another pony grinning at it almost sadistically. The awkwardness was broken as the corporal's forehoof flew past my face and into that of the changeling, which fell to the floor beside me, coughing up more blood.

I looked around for a second. I saw that a brown earth pony was lying on the balcony, grimacing in pain, but clearly still alive, so I prepared to make my way over to him. I'd leave the changeling for the other ponies to deal with, which, though not ideal, was the best option I had. That was, at least, what I had thought.

The red-brown corporal (I hadn't learnt the name of any of the ponies in the squad, having just been assigned to them a few minutes previously) pulled the spear from the changeling's chest and drew a short, serrated knife. I'd expected him to just end it there, but instead he drove the knife into the base of the changeling's horn, and began trying to saw it off. As soon as the knife went in, the changeling began giving a sort of gurgling scream - the blood made a normal scream difficult. I knew how painful dehorning was for a unicorn, and I imagined it was pretty similar for a changeling. I was momentarily stalled - I was pretty shocked, and it didn't immediately occur to me to point out that this kind of torture was illegal, so I just stared.

The changeling morphed into a grey unicorn colt with stripy yellow, blue and red hair, and as the stallion continued sawing it morphed into a blue pegasus mare with a darker blue mane. Suddenly finding himself with no horn to attack, the corporal picked up the changeling with his magic and slammed her against the wall. He held her there as he picked up the spear with his hooves and held it towards her.

The changeling was no longer bleeding or choking on its blood, having morphed, but it was still clearly in pain, and for the first time, it spoke. It could only whisper "Please. Stop". The corporal laughed and slapped her face with the flat side of the spear head, leaving a large green streak over it. He gave his answer: "No".

Behind me the fallen stallion had gotten up, and walked over to me. I suddenly realised that if he was ok and none of the other ponies were injured I'd have to face the dilemma I'd been hoping to avoid. I saw that one of the four earth ponies was down, but considering that his throat had been blasted open to the extent that he was nearly decapitated there was no hope of reviving him. Of the other 3 changelings, one was decapitated, one had been pushed off of the balcony, and one had had its head split open. All I could do was hope that the brown pony needed my assistance, and I asked him (possibly slightly too enthusuastically and aggressively) "Do you need any help?"

"Er. No", the stallion replied, looking a little apprehensive.

"But you were on the floor before. Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I just got smacked in the balls by my spear pole."

It seemed somewhat amusing that in a life and death situation, something as mundane as a mispositioned spear could result in such a serious loss - in battle, losing 1/7 of your force in one blow is never a good thing, even if it's only for the one battle. I knew that laughing would be inappropriate given the situation, and given the situation I wasn't exactly in the mood for it either. I'd seen plenty of genitals in my medical education... and in other things... but I didn't think this really warranted an inspection, and it would probably be very awkward for both of us if I started inspecting this stallion's testes. I reluctantly turned back to our captive, who was still held against the wall, and getting bucked in the stomach.

The changeling was crying, and looked like she was about to throw up. I had to speak up when what I saw was going against both our orders to kill the changelings on sight and my responsibility to care for both prisoners and our own soldiers.

I spoke quietly, being scared to speak up.

"Er. Corporal. Stop".

He didn't hear me. He kept bucking. I spoke loudly and clearly.

"Corporal. Stop!"

I wasn't expecting the response I got.

"This bitch killed two of us. Now she's gonna pay for it!"

He stopped bucking and picked up the spear again.

"But this is against our orders. We were told to kill them on sight"

He turned towards me, raised an eyebrow, shrugged, then slashed the changeling's throat open with the spear tip. He released her from his magic, and she fell to the ground. In her pony form her blood was red, and her hooves went to her throat to try to stop the flow.

The corporal then stood up on his hind legs and moved his forehooves to his groin. He began to urinate on the dying changeling, just closing his eyes and moaning with relief as his stream poured down on her. The other ponies were as shocked as I was. A grey stallion apparently couldn't contain his shock and shouted very loudly "What the fuck!". The corporal answered with a smile, stopped peeing a few seconds later, and dropped back down to all fours.

With the simple order, "let's go", the corporal walked towards the door at the end of the corridor, opened it, walked through, and waited for the other 5 ponies to follow him, which they did, after an awkward few seconds. I stood where I was, and the others closed the door behind them. I guess they thought I still had things I needed to do with a pile of blood, piss and dead ponies and changelings.

I heard a gasp come from beside me, and the changeling morphed back into its normal form, healing the cut in its throat in the process. I looked towards it, then it morphed again. That time it seemed to morph more slowly. It morphed into a pegasus stallion with white fur and a pale green mane. Its cutie mark was a bandage wrapped around a white heart with a red cross on it. He smiled at me. I smiled back at myself, like I was looking into a mirror.

The copy of myself was shaking, having lost a lot of blood, and being in a huge amount of pain. He tilted his head to look at me straight. I wasn't sure what to make of it, until he opened his mouth, and in my own voice, said, simply, "Thank you."

It took me a few seconds to realise what he'd meant, but I'd saved this changeling from being tortured. In a way it was understandable (though I was annoyed that I hadn't spoken out sooner).

The changeling closed his eyes and turned away from me. He gritted his teeth. I was faced with having to make the choice. To hell with the acting captain's orders. I had a job and I had to do it properly, and either way I wasn't going to betray my morals, and I wasn't going to kill something that had just thanked me like that. The idea of killing something identical to myself also made me feel uneasy. I lay down beside my clone and put my right foreleg over him. I looked into the bag that I held around my neck for some painkillers or tranquilisers - the morphing would be able to take care of most of the physical damage.

He looked up at me, and I stopped. He blinked once, then closed his eyes and morphed back into a changeling, then returned to its previous position beside me. I carried on looking in my bag, then the changeling spoke.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken your form. I don't want to make this any harder for you."

I looked back over the changeling, slightly confused, then went back to looking for drugs. I got out a hypodermic needle, and found a small phial of anaesthetic, which I drew up into it. My patient remained still as I pushed the needle into its leg. I had little experience with changelings, but I knew a little about their circulation, so I managed to find a suitable vein relatively easily, at its knee. I injected the drug, and the shaking slowly subsided, and the changeling's breathing and heartbeat became slow and steady. This would allow me to check for any injuries the morphing hadn't fixed, and would give the changeling a chance to heal without having to feel everything wrong with its body.

As we were surrounded by death our location smelled... unpleasant, to say the least, so I carried the unconcious changeling away, holding with my legs and lifting off with my wings. I flew to the door to a storeroom, opened it, and dragged the changeling inside. This would give the changeling a chance to recover without either of us being found, and despite the air being old and musty it was far better than the smell of blood, piss and charred flesh.

I lay the changeling down on the floor, and just waited, lying down beside it.