A light flickers on, illuminating the metallic room, revealing the rather dull, almost Spartan living condition. An automated response to the door opening, the entire room is visible before the door even opens. A tired looking stallion Pegasus steps in, stretching his wings to try and get back some feeling other than aching pain.
Throwing his kit bag to the side of the bed, he simply lets himself fall on to the blanket, finding no comfort in the metal framework.
"Home, sweet home ... I wish ..." he muttered just over his breath.
The door sealed itself shut with a not-so-subtle hiss, the lock triggering itself as it was meant to do. A feature many of the overworked staff were grateful for after returning from what could be days of work.
With a sigh, the stallion rolled over on to his side, looking towards his locker and his table. Amidst all the photos of team mates come and gone, he could see the lock had broken again and the door was jammed open. Something he had missed during his rush to reach the take-off pad. Choosing to ignore it for now, he turned to his diary on his table. Retrieving a pen from one of the drawers built in to the wall, he picked up his diary and began to take note of the weeks work.
It's been another week since I've been able to get back in to the room. The Griffins are still as restless as ever and we've caught even more of them trying to get in to our territory. I'm scared there'll be a war soon. Something nobody on this side of the wall wants. But why is it that the Griffins have been so hostile lately? Beta Squad has yet to return to the base and there's whispers they may have been killed in action. Nobody wants to admit it because nobody wants to fan the flames of this conflict. Makes you wish those old stories of "Alicorns" were true, and that they hadn't left us all those thousands of years ago. I wonder where we'd be if they'd stayed with us to protect and guide our world. Though, I suppose that's what we're here to do now ... I just wish it wasn't so hard.
After placing his usual signature on the base of the page, he closed the diary over and enabled the lock once more before placing the book and the pen on the table. Looking up towards the roof, he began to drift in to a day dream, ignoring the sounds of workers outside.
"Faust ... did she ever really exist ...? And why would she just leave us?"
His drama was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, causing him to jump slightly. After forcing himself back out of the bed, he stepped to the door and opened it, finding himself confronted with a Unicorn mare, the bases commanding officer.
She spoke, not giving the stallion a moment to figure out what was happening. "You did good out there Storm. You're making quite the name for yourself amongst the troops. Almost making me wish I could fly, too."
"Thank you commander Blitz."
"Come with me. I want to speak with you." Her voice grew low, almost ominous.
"Understood commander." There was no point arguing. Who knew if it was to be good news, or bad news. And if he was to act out of turn, it could grow worse.
The mare, Blitz, led the way out of the door and in to the corridor, leading Storm past construction workers who were finishing up sections of the base and soldiers heading to their next patrol. The base stretched for miles beneath the ground, with ten elevators connecting five floors to the surface.
This would be one of the most secure facilities in Equestria upon it's completion. Perhaps even the entire planet. Capable of withstanding any attack, traditional or otherwise. The two stepped in to one of the three functional elevators and began the ride to the surface from the third floor down.
The trip was spent mostly in silence, the two simply waiting for the elevator to reach the surface. Disturbed only by the occasional cough. The entire trip took just over a minute, as the elevators had been slowed down just in case anything was in the shafts whilst they were in use.
Upon arriving at the surface, Storm was hit by the cold coastal air once more. Looking out over the cliffs to the Manehatten docks just North of the base. It seemed oddly quiet from here. The two began to walk out on to the roof, bracing themselves with jackets against the icy winds. Blitz turned to face Storm, staring him dead in the eyes.
"Do you know why I've brought you up here, Storm?"
"No, ma'am." His response was simple and short. What else would he say to his commanding officer?
"Your reputation is growing too fast. You've got ponies looking at you now. I use the term "ponies", but you're not just drawing attention from inside Equestrian borders. Other countries are starting to notice you as well. I'm fearing for your own safety, so until I can get this base up to operational standards, I'm going to discreetly transfer you to one not far out from here. This will be off the records and the fortress I'm sending you to has already been completed. It's for your own safety, until I'm sure nobody's coming after you."
"Ma'am? I'm not sure I understand." Storm began to look confused, wondering just what was going on.
"You're gaining respect amongst the soldiers. Respect that, at your rank is unnerving to some. There may be groups that want you dead. I'm sending you away not only for your safety, but for the safety of everyone staffed here. Whilst this place is considered operational, it's still filled with work crews. Innocents who I don't want getting caught in any crossfires." These words wounded Storm, but he could see the sense behind them.
"... I understand now, ma'am. I'll do as you say."
"Good. Now jump aboard. The sooner you're somewhere secure, the better." The two turned to face the landing pad as the helicopter finally arrived.
Storm stepped up to the pad, his wings shaking in the air flow caused by the helicopters blades. He turned to view the base and his commander one more time as the door slid open. The four escort soldiers within watching the area closely. The passengers consisted primarily of Unicorns and Earth ponies. No sign of any Pegasi on board. After a few moments of getting a look at what would soon be the next of many war time fortresses, Storm boarded the helicopter and closed the door behind him. Taking up a seat at the back, he watched through a window as the helicopter took off and left the base behind. The journey South towards Fillydelphia began.
The journey lasted several hours, but once they were travelling a rarely ventured section of the coast, the helicopter began to change course. It began to head out to sea, towards Griffin territory.
"Hey, uhh ... pilot? Why's the course changed?" Storm looked away from the window, aware that this was not the correct path. There was no response to his question.
"Hey. What's going on here? There's nothing out this way but sea water. Quit joking about and get us back on cou-"
He was interrupted by the sound of a gun being loaded. Fear rushed through his mind as he knew he was without any body armour or weaponry to defend himself, in an enclosed space where he couldn't use his flight to his advantage. He watched in silence, frozen by fear as the four soldiers readied their weapons.
"Wait, wait! I didn't do anything!"
His pleas were cut short, silenced by the echo of gunfire. Slowly, Storm fell to the ground, watching helplessly as two of the soldiers approached his limp form.
One of the two stallions spoke up. "He's as good as dead. Dump him over the side and send a report to the boss. Nothing's going to recover him out here except the sharks."
"Shame, really. A waste of a good soldier. I had some respect for this guy, but you gotta do what you gotta do."
The soldiers slid the side door open, dragging Storm towards the edge of the helicopter. Expecting to face no resistance, they was caught off guard by what happened next. Storm burst in to action, smashing his fist in to the first stallions helmet and shattering the visor. A brief melee ensued, but the wounded Storm was no much for the physically superior and well equipped stallions he was facing. His head was smashed in to the side of the door, causing him to slowly drift out of conciousness for a few moments.
By the time he recovered his senses, he was already in free fall, watching the helicopter speed off in to the distance. As he attempted to take flight he realised his right wing had been shot, rendering it useless. He could only wait and watch as he fell towards the ocean below. Moments before he hit the icy water, his mind drifted out of conciousness once more, leaving him with the haunting images of his friends who had passed on during the conflict.
Some few hours later, a Griffin fishing trawler pulled up an unusually heavy load, dropping an unidentifiable stallion on to the deck. With little-to-no hesitation, the crew took him in to their care and brought him to one of the many nameless colony islands to have his wounds treated. With several bullets finding their home in his head, chest and right wing, it was uncertain if he would be waking up from the coma he was said to be in.
[To be continued...]
