Chapters When Lightning Cracks, Thunder Rumbles
Chapter 01: The Night Raid
Night was approaching in the skies over the British countryside. At an American bomber base on the east side of the island, ground crews run and drive around a collection of B-17 Flying Fortresses. The personnel go about their duties of fueling and arming the machines with their explosive payloads, loading the hefty bombs into the open bomb bays of the machines. Over fifty bombers sit in their parking spaces, waiting on their crews to emerge from the group briefing. In the first slot of the parking area, the B-17 known as Hutton's Holly-Marie sits as her ground crew prepares the aircraft for combat. Sitting alone in the cockpit, Lieutenant Phillip Hutton holds a clipboard as he reads over a set of special orders given to him from the Air Group Commander.
On this mission, Hutton was to be the lead aircraft in a flight of nearly five-hundred bombers. A bombing mission of this scale was the first of its' kind to be attempted. In the months before Americas' entry into the war, a standard bombing mission was made up of small groups of British bombers, making milk runs against vital targets in broad daylight. Due to losses, these missions were switch to nighttime operations. With Americas' entry in December 1941, British Bomber Command suddenly had a increase in numbers. Now, larger missions were possible, and daylight missions were even revamped.
Hutton was no stranger to having a large responsibility given to him. A survivor of sixteen missions to date, Hutton and his crew were some of the few veterans in the bombing business. His aircraft was a veteran as well, having been under Hutton's command since the day he received it from Uncle Sam. With sixteen missions and only minor repairs given to the old girl, Hutton was confident that he and his crew would survive the required twenty-five missions in order to go home.
However, there is a very fine line between confidence and cockiness, and Hutton was very aware of this. More than once has he witnessed rookie crews on their first mission be taken out of the sky by flak or enemy aircraft. Watching something the size of a B-17 tumble out of the sky like a rock baffles the mind and leaves an impression that gets buried deep within the sub-conscious. Even to this day, Hutton can still hear the screams of those young boys in his nightmares.
Footsteps suddenly echoed up the metal flooring of the center passage, and Hutton was snapped out of his reading trance to look up at the source of the clanking. Sliding his special orders back into the manila envelop, Hutton is greeted by his co-pilot, Lieutenant Roger Morrison. Morrison looked like an older brother to Hutton, the kind of guy you can share a beer with on a late summer evening and just talk guy stuff like football or fishing. The two men had met in bomber training school and became fast friends almost right off the bat.
"How was the briefing?" Hutton asks, watching as Morrison squeezed his frame between the pilot seats before sitting down. Once he adjusted himself to be comfortable, Morrison gave a small shrug and shake of his head, giving a 'Nothing Special' kind of look on his face.
"Same old, same old. Go in, cause some fireworks, and get out. Oh, and make sure Jerry doesn't kill us." Morrison replies, securing his seat belt and adjusting the shoulder strap. Realigning the brim of his officers cap, Morrison eyes the envelope laying on Hutton's lap. "New orders?" he asks, pointing to the object in question with a slight raise of his eyebrow. Hutton simply sighs and tucks the envelope into his flight jacket.
"Yep, we have a secondary objective on this mission. After our first drop we have to turn north and take a fourth of the group with us as escort. Our target is a large railway depot outside of the city. According to intelligence, this depot is readying a special shipment of armor via rail to the Eastern Front." Hutton explains, turning his attention to the dashboard in front of him. Morrison gives a small grunt of acknowledgement as he and Hutton begin to go through their check list. In the back of the bomber, the two men can hear the rest of the crew climbing into the bomber and taking positions at their respective stations. For a brief moment, the crews' bombardier joined the two pilots in the cockpit. He exchanged some words with them and made his way into the nose of the aircraft. Moments later, the nose gunner slipped past Hutton and Morrison. Soon enough, the intercoms Hutton and Morrison wore around their necks began to crackle to life. With a press to his neck, Hutton called his crew for role call.
"Everyone, this is the Lieutenant. Check in once you're situated."
A beat of silence later, and voices began to fill his ears.
"Tail gunner, check."
"Waist gunners, check."
"Belly gunner, here."
"Radio gunner, here."
"Radio's humming, sir."
"Top gunner, ready to roll."
"Bombardier and nose gunner, ready."
"Copy that, Lieutenant Morrison and I are ready as well." Hutton replies as he raised a hand up to the ceiling control panel. "Contact, one." he says, flipping a switch that started the left most engine of the aircraft. With a cough and a few belches of white smoke, the large propeller starts rotating, pausing only for a few moments as the engine quickly revved to life. A low humming begins fills the air as the number two engine starts to come to life as well on the inner right side of the aircraft. Within a few minutes, engines three and four add to the chorus of horsepower, shaking the aircraft under the power of the four Wright 9-cylinder engines.
All around Hutton's aircraft, forty-nine other bombers roar to life, the air filling with a heavy humming as the aircraft wait to line up. Minutes after the last bomber roars to life, a red flare arcs into the pre-evening sky. Ground crews scramble under the idling bombers to remove the wheel chocks from beneath their respective bombers, running towards the back of the aircraft to clear the parked machines. With a signal from his crew chief, Hutton eased off the parking brakes, allowing his machine to begin moving forward. After a minute of taxiing, Hutton makes a hard left turn and adjusts the bomber to point forward as it comes to a stop at the end of the runway. Reaching forward towards another another switch, Hutton lowers the wing flaps into the take-off position and waits.
The crew sits in silence as they wait to take the sky. Morrison flips a nearby switch before refocusing his attention forward. With an eye on the sky, Hutton waits for a green flare to launch. After a few minutes, the wait time starts to go on longer than it should. Morrison and Hutton exchange slightly concerned glances, their features vibrating with the aircraft as the engines idled. Eyeing the sky again, they wait for the flare. A few more minutes pass, and they look to each other again.
"Maybe the mission is scrubbed?" Morrison suggests, shrugging slightly.
"If it was scrubbed, they would't have wasted the time to line us up for take-off." Hutton shoots back.
"Then maybe they're waiting on confirmation from the other squadrons?"
Hutton was about to reply when a green flash arcs through the air. With a grin, he grips the four levers that control the engine throttles. Slowly pushing them forward and releasing the brake, the bomber lurches once again under the new force and begins its' gallop down the runway. The speed mounts rapidly, nearly pushing the two pilots back into their seats as the bomber raced along the tarmac. The aircraft shudders harder, threatening to fall apart at the seams. After a minute, Hutton can feel the tail lift off the ground. In seconds, the beast begins to lift into the evening air.
Hutton's Holly-Marie soars over the treetops, keeping a steady climb as Hutton adjusted his coarse to begin the eight hours travel time to the target. Below them, the British countryside begins to drop away, turning from hills and fields to flat ground and stitched farmland. The occasional town dots the land below, roughly the size of ones' thumb from this altitude. Behind them, the rest of the flight take to the skies, following the same path as Hutton for the rendezvous point. After ten minutes, the flight joined up with an Assembly Ship named Spot-O-Trouble and joined up with the rest of the bombing force.
Two hours later, and after several near mid-air collisions, Hutton and the forty-nine other bombers under his leadership soared through the evening sky with hundreds of other American and British bombers. Together, the crews will attempt first attempt at large-scale bombing in the night skies over Europe. Each airman flew with one thought on his mind; Taking the fight to the Third Reich.
~ooo000ooo~
Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, Savoir of Equestria and the fourth of Equestrian Royalty, sat on the western platform of her castle under a star filled night sky. Before her, a large telescope sits aimed towards the twinkling lights. Beside her in a purple glow of telekinesis, her feathered quill and a notebook floated, waiting to be used. Earlier in the week, Princess Luna had told Twilight that there was a meteor shower due to happen on this very night. After getting some confirmation from a couple meteorologists in Canterlot, Twilight eagerly waited for the night to come.
Sitting behind her, two unicorns and a pegasus all chatted among themselves as they sipped on hot cocoa and tea. Twilight pulled away from the telescope and wrote down a few notes within the notebook before looking to her friends Starlight Glimmer, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash. Initially, she had invited all of her friends, even Trixie, to attend the meteor shower. When Pinkie Pie got her invitation, she said she had to babysit the Cake twins and didn't want to keep the kids up past their bedtime. Fluttershys' excuse for declining the invitation was due to the fact that she had to attend to a few chipmunks who were stricken with the flu. Applejack on the other hoof, was completely unreachable due to her attending to some business in Appleloosa.
Trixie's excuse? Well, to quote the mare:
"Trixie does not need to watch stars fall from space. Trixie is a star! One that will not fall!"
Getting a little desperate for others to attend the meteor shower, Twilight even went as far as to invite Sunset Shimmer to watch via the journal they shared, but Sunset had to study for her school finals and could not take the time to visit Equestria. Twilight understood entirely, after all, education was more important. She was happy when Rarity, Starlight and Rainbow Dash all accepted their invites however, so she wouldn't be watching the shower alone.
She sat with her pupil and two of her closest friends. It wasn't too often Twilight got to relax nowadays, given her duties as a Princess of Equestria and trying to teach Starlight new lessons in friendship. But whenever she was given the chance to relax, she took it and milked every sweet minute of it. Besides, after the fiasco that was the air cruise her and her family took, she still felt a twinge of awkwardness whenever she thought of the cruise as a whole. She was reminded of how total strangers approached her and declared their adoration of her, right in front of her parents and brother. Of the awkward fanboy who stuck by her side through everything she did with her family...
Thankfully, this night was just limited to her group of friends, and not an entire airship of strangers! No weird fanboys or adoring citizens to hound her while she stayed at her own home! And, because of this thought, she allowed herself to finally relax and actually enjoy the night. She was with friends, with good food and drink, and a meteor shower just for them to watch.
So far, the night had gone quiet well, and Twilight couldn't ask for more.
~ooo000ooo~
A flak shell bursts off Hutton's left, rattling the bomber to its' core as more and more orange blossoms lit up the night sky. Spotlights pierced the sky, swarming and casting light against the bellies of the clouds, searching for the large formation of bombers. Another burst of flak, and a bomber to Hutton's right erupted into a fireball as one of its' large wings tore off, beginning a terrifying tumble to the dark earth below. As the formation pushed forward, the flak got heavier, threatening to take down every single aircraft that dared to fly through. Another burst went off extremely close to the bomber, roughly jostling the crew. Hutton gripped onto the flight controls for dear life, praying to God above that he would make it through the mission safely.
Then, as heavy as it came, the flak suddenly stopped.
Hutton breathed heavily into his oxygen mask as adrenaline pulsed through his veins. A cold sweat trickled down his face, forcing him to remove the oxygen mask to wipe his face. A harsh breeze filled the cabin and cooled the sweat on his brow. Looking to his right, Hutton screamed as the bloodied form of Morrison filled his vision. The last flak hit shattered the window to Morrison's right, taking a large chunk of the bomber out as a result. The flying glass had embedded itself into Morrison's face and neck, severing the artery in his neck.
As Morrison's blood streamed from the wound, a light mist rose from the warm fluid as it met the frozen air.
Hutton looked forward with shock eyes in his eyes. His best friend was dead. Morrison wasn't going to make it home tonight. Numbness began to fill Huttons' senses, putting him on autopilot. He reattached the oxygen mask and clicked the bomber intercom secured around his neck. With a buzz, the intercom came to life in his headset.
"This is Lieutenant Hutton. Lieutenant Morrison is dead. I need all stations to report in, now." he says flatly.
"I'm good here in the tail, just a bit rattled."
"Sanders here, Jackson fell out of the bomber during that flak run. His safety cord snapped. We don't have gun coverage from the right waist."
"Radio room is intact, but barely. I'm staring at a hole the size of my Chevy's engine and my charts are all over the place."
"Top turret is one-hundred percent, systems are still kicking."
"Bombardier here, my gunner is dead and the bomb sight is blown to pieces. All that's intact is the periscope. We won't have any accuracy on the run."
"Someone check on Leslie in the belly." Hutton ordered before taking a mental headcount of who was left. Four out of seven gunners were remaining. The bomber was basically a sitting duck at this point, and without the bomb sight, the payload might not even hit the intended target.
"Sanders here, I just checked on Leslie in the ball turret. All that's left is the turret mount. Flak must've ripped him right out of there."
Hutton takes a beat of silence before confirming the report.
"Dawson, can you possibly eyeball the target?" Hutton asks.
"Maybe? It will be like trying to drop a rock into a water barrel though, I can't promise anything. Dawson replies, his tone uncertain. Hutton was about to speak when the bomber jostled violently once again. Hutton quickly scanned the sky to see if the flak had resumed.
A dark shape zipped past the cockpit, carrying a low hum as it raced away.
"We've got fighters!" Dawson yells. Within seconds, the night sky came alive with red tracers as gunners tried to knock down the interceptors descending onto the formation. However, given their nighttime camouflage of cloud gray and black spots, the fighters were harder to hit as they blended in with the surrounding clouds. Red tracers erupt from ahead of Hutton, showing that Dawson had gotten on the gun in the nose and was fighting back. The rounds arced from right to left as Dawson tried to pin the fighter, squeezing the triggers in bursts of three seconds.
Without warning, the tracers shoot straight and in rapid succession, arcing upwards as the fighter lined up for a head-on attack. Hutton can hear Dawson scream as he poured on the fire, his red tracers passing between green and white tracers of the enemy fighter.
Hutton feels the air leave his lungs, and he gives a sharp gasp as he attempted to get a breath in. Panic began to settle into his chest, seizing his heart and halting his breathing. Was he going to be joining Morrison in the Great Mess Hall above?
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Hutton's vision cleared, becoming sharper. The twin-engined fighter bore down on the bomber, its' nose carrying an array of machine guns and heavy caliber cannons. The muzzles flared bright orange, spitting forth the green and white tracers that raced for Hutton. The seconds dragged on as he watched the cannon shells impact the skin of the bomber, tearing apart the fragile surface and taking entire chunks out of the machine.
Suddenly, Huttons' chest hitches and air filled his lungs again, but it was an agonizingly slow process. As he took a breath, he watched as the harsh white tracers of the night fighters' heavy cannons raced towards him, pegging him as the next target.
A bright flash blinded Hutton, forcing him to throw his hands up to shield his eyes. The bomber jostles erratically, the rattling lasting longer than it should. Another explosion rocks the bomber, a high-pitched whining starts coming from Hutton's left. One of the engines had blown apart and was now melting into slag as the motor began to run wild within its' mountings.
Just as quickly as he was blinded, Hutton's vision cleared once again. He stared out at the night sky, waiting to see the enemy night fighter pulling up and away from the attack run. But the fighter was no longer there. The air was no longer filled with tracers, nor were there burning bombers around him. It seemed to be the same night sky he had been flying through for the past few hours. Something then caught Hutton's eye-
A plethora of shooting stars filled the heavens above.
~ooo000ooo~
Twilight tapped the spoon against the brim of her teacup before setting it down to take a sip of her tea. Warmth filled her core as she savored the minty bite, feeling the drink rush into her belly. She looked to Starlight and the two exchanged smiles as Rainbow Dash looked up to the stars.
"Hey, Twilight? When are the meteors suppose to show up?" asked the speedster, impatience hanging on her tone.
"In due time Rainbow Dash. You can't rush nature, after all." Twilight said as she waved a hoof dismissively.
"I agree, you can't rush beauty after all." Rarity added, giving a prim smile as she sipped at her tea. Setting the teacup down, Rarity looked to Twilight. "Twilight, do you recall the last time we saw a meteor shower?" she asked. Twilight arced an eyebrow and looked to the floor as she tapped her chin in thought.
"It has been a while, hasn't it? I'd say, nearly three years ago? I think it was back when I first came to town." she said, her memory of the night coming to mind. Rarity rolled her eyes upwards in thought, checking her own memory.
"Yes, that sounds about right! It's a shame the other girls can't make it tonight though, I'm sure these meteors are bound to be gorgeous!" she said. Starlight was about to add her own comment on the subject, when a blinding flash illuminated the night sky. The four mares shielded their eyes from the sudden flash, each giving a sound of surprise. As fast as it happened, the blinding light disappeared. Twilight looked skyward and gasped, signalling for the others to follow her gaze.
One by one, bright meteors raced across the sky. The shower started as a trickle, then grew into a full sized light show of streaks that arced across the black sky. Twilight eagerly began to jot down notes before turning to glance through her telescope. The four of them give 'Ooos' and 'Ahhs' as they watched the streaks of light. Through her telescope, Twilight saw something bright orange start to come into view from the edge of the telescopes' sight. She pulled back and squinted a bit, trying to determine the object. The orange light was getting larger by the second as it raced towards her. Peaking through the telescope again, Twilight felt a tap on her shoulder.
"Twilight? What is that? " Starlight asked, terror creeping her voice. Twilight was about to speak when a low droning began to fill the air. The sound was that of a million angry hornets flying as one, filling the air with a terrible, deafening noise. The droning grew louder and louder. The orange ball of light, no, fire, drew closer and closer. A shape started to emerge from the blaze, looking needle like with distinct circles running left to right. In seconds, the object was overhead, drowning out all sound, save for the ferocious fire the crackled the air and the deafening droning. Twilight and the others look up in sheer terror, having never seen something this large before. What looked to be a large letter 'T' narrowly missed the crowning jewel of Twilight's castle as it raced overhead towards the prairie fields north of Ponyville.
Seconds go by. The fiery object faded from view. The air still smelled singed as the night went quiet once again. Twilight and the others all stand and looked to each other, making sure they were okay.
Before anypony could speak, a thunderous BOOM rattled the air, forcing the mares to hit the floor in terror. Silence fell again as an ominous glow began to illuminate a small section of night. At the same time, smoke rose into the air, blending with the dark clouds above.
"What in Equestria was that?" Rarity hissed as she stood once again, a scowl coming over her features.
"I dunno, but we should go check it out! Somepony could have been hurt!" Rainbow Dash suggested as she popped up into the air. Her wings flapped with an eagerness, telling that she was ready to go. Rarity gave Rainbow Dash a flat look.
"Oh yes, something foreign crashes into Equestria and your first idea is to check it out ? Honestly Rainbow, I thought you to be smarter than that!" Rarity scolded. Rainbow Dash puffed herself up, ready to retort when Starlight cut in.
"I have to agree with Rainbow on this. We should probably investigate what that was." she said as she looked to Twilight for confirmation. Rarity looked at Starlight like she had lost her mind.
"Am I the only one with a speck of common sense?" she asked, mostly to herself.
"While your concern is noted Rarity, we have to figure out what that was. For all we know, we could be under attack again." Twilight said, resting a hoof on Rarity's shoulder. Down below, voices began to rise from the town. Ponies wandered out of their homes, confused at what could have made such a terrible sound. Hooking her hooves over the railing, Twilight addressed the townsponies below.
"Citizens, do not worry!" she started. The ponies turned their collective attention towards her.
"What made that sound, Princess?" asked a pony, hoping to get an immediate answer.
"I do not know, but my friends and I are going to be looking into the crash." Twilight replied simply.
"A crash? What crashed?" asked another pony, a look of worry on their face.
"Again, I do not have any answers at the moment. Please be patient while we investigate. Return to your homes, and I will tell all in the morning." Twilight promised. Somewhat content with her word, the ponies slowly wandered back into their homes, talking among themselves as they tried to figure out what could have crashed. Twilight turned back to the others and readied her horn for a teleportation spell. With nods from the others, Twilight casted the spell.
In a moment, they all went from standing on Twilight's observation deck, to standing before a raging inferno. The girls give a collective gasp at the size of the blaze. Debris laid scattered about the raging blaze, giving off a metallic sheen as the fire scorched the surfaces. Lighting their horns, Twilight, Starlight and Rarity casted a water spell, dousing the inferno with a massive ball of water. Immediately the fire died, leaving nothing but the smoking wreckage. The girls gave uneasy glances at each other as they waited to the smoke to clear from the air.
~ooo000ooo~
Hutton lets out an uneasy groan as his senses began to return to him. With his sense of direction coming back, he found himself dangling at an odd angle within his seat. His seat belts did their job at keeping him in one place during the crash, but they also left the man in great pain.
Pain, that's a good thing. It told Hutton he wasn't dead.
Hutton tried to move his legs, but one didn't respond. Looking down, he saw that his leg was trapped from the knee on down underneath the crumpled dashboard. He tried to angle his foot, but pain rocketed through his leg; A broken shin, just great. Obscenities streamed from his mouth as he fought back the pain. He gritted his teeth as the pain ebbed away, turning into a dull pulsing. Hutton put his head back and looked around his surroundings. Morrison's body now sat mangled and was barely recognizable. Hutton craned his head back and saw the legs of Johnson, the top turret gunner, dangled down in a mangled mess. No movement came from the man. From what Hutton could see, the rest of the bomber wasn't in great shape either.
"Aw hell..." Hutton muttered. Unbuckling his seat belts, he worked his broken leg into a workable position to pull it out. After a couple minutes of struggling, Hutton pulled his pinned leg free. Pain rocketed through him again, bringing another string of cursing. Steeling himself, the man stood up and began to stagger his way through the wrecked fuselage of the bomber. Smoke dirtied the air and constricted his lungs as he limped his way past the bodies of his dead crew. Stepping through the remains of the radio room, Hutton emerged from the wreck. The first thing he saw was the tail sitting upside down, twisted and mangled. The large rudder had dug into the earth, kicking the gunners position high into the air while sheering away half of the left elevator. The body of Jackson, or what remained of it, was draped over his gunner window.
A gasp caught Hutton's attention. He turned his gaze and saw something rather...strange.
Four horses stood among the wreckage, staring right at him, their mouths slightly hung open. "No, they're too small to be horses. Ponies maybe?" Hutton asked himself mentally. Their coats were different colors, and their eyes were unnaturally large. Yet, despite the fact that these were animals he was staring at, Hutton could see the glimmer of awareness in their eyes. Hutton shook his head a bit and turned his back to the ponies as he looked over the rest of the wreckage.
"U-uhm...hello?"
Hutton stopped. He blinked, turning his attention back to the ponies behind him.
"I know I didn't hit my head on nothin'..." he said as he rubbed his head to make sure there wasn't a bump there. "But...did one of you just..." he trailed off.
The purple pony, which Hutton noticed had wings and a horn while the others had one or the other as distinct features, stepped forward.
"Speak? Uhm, well, yes." it said as tit gave an uneasy smile, much like how a human would in an awkward situation. The pony's voice was distinctly feminine with a clear tone.
Hutton blinked. This pony just talked to him. He could understand it, and it could smile just like any other person.
Hutton concluded that he might in fact be dead and trapped in some kind of weird purgatory.
The adrenaline that kept Hutton on his feet began to wear off rapidly. His vision began to black out as his balance became uneven. Before he knew it, Hutton was face down into the ground. He inhaled the smell of burnt grass and scorched earth as his mind shut down, sending him into a world of darkness.
Author's Note
Hello again!
When Lightning Cracks, Thunder Rumbles
Chapter 02: Ponyville General
A feeling of cold dampness stirred Hutton from his deep sleep. Something pressed against his forehead once, twice, then three times. Cold water trickles down his forehead and cheeks as the object is pulled away. He can hear voices, but they are extremely muffled. Hutton rolled his head left, or at least he tried to. His mind said he turned his head, but it still remained in the same position, a clear sign of sleep paralysis.
As quickly as he regained consciousness, Hutton slipped back under into the deep sleep.
...
A voice awakens Hutton. It's soft, almost a whisper. It sounded nearby, yet distant at the same time. He strained his sluggish mind to focus on the voice to understand what is being said.
"...experience with his kind before. I would appreciate it if..."
The voice is feminine, that much Hutton could make out. He slipped out of focus again, but another voice brought Hutton back around. The new voice is deeper, probably a male.
"...been in and out of consciousness for a few days..."
A few days? To Hutton, it's only felt like a few hours. The male voice continued.
"...call you when it wakes up, your Highness."
Hutton's mind could not keep its' focus. As if there was a mental switch being thrown, he is dragged back into his deep sleep.
...
Soft warmth hits Hutton's cheek. With heavy eyelids, Hutton struggled to open his eyes, barely managing to accomplish the simple act. Almost immediately, his vision is greeted by the bright sunshine pouring through a nearby window. Hutton grunted with simple shock as he threw up a hand to shield his eyes. The sounds of shifting metal filled the air, alerting Hutton to the fact that he was not alone.
"Easy there, freak." said a gruff voice. Hutton blinked a few time to clear his vision. As his surroundings begin to come into focus, he sees that he was in a medical room of some kind. Beneath his body, five beds were set up side by side long ways to accompany his height. Directly in front of him, two more of those odd ponies stood in defensive stances. These ones however, wore bright gold armor of some kind, complete with feathered helmets like those worn by Ancient Romans. The two ponies wielded long pikes, their sharpened ends mere inches from his face.
"Get those sticks outta my face." Hutton grumbled, knocking the spears aside. The armored ponies are quick to react though, and within seconds the pike tips were back in his face. He simply blinked, irritation starting to spark in his mind. Before he could do anything else though, another pony poked its' head into the room. This one wore the white uniform of a nurse, and looked feminine compared to the armored grunts.
"Oh, you're awake! I'll let Doctor Scalpel know." she said cheerfully before darting away.
"Oh great, more of these talking horses." Hutton thought to himself. Deciding against retaliation against the armored ponies, he simply dropped his hands on his thighs and gives a huff of waning irritation. A couple minutes passed by, and soon another male pony entered the room, this one a unicorn. He wore the jacket of a doctor, complete with a stethoscope draped around his neck. Behind him the nurse trailed him, a clipboard clenched between her teeth.
"And a good morning to you," Scalpel started before gesturing for the clipboard. The nurse released her bite as Scalpel's horn illuminated with a field of soft white, floating the clipboard in front of him. "Mister Hutton, is it?" he asked. Hutton simply stared at the doctor in confusion. How the hell did it know his name?
"How the hell do you know my name?" Hutton asked, an eyebrow
"I can answer that." called another feminine voice. At that moment, the purple pony from the crash site entered the room. She gave a warm smile as she made eye contact with Hutton. She turned her attention to the two armored ponies and nodded to them. "You two are dismissed. The medical staff and I can take it from here." she said. The two guards nod, withdrew their pikes, and marched out of the room.
Now, it was just Hutton, Scalpel, the nurse, and the purple pony.
The purple one approached Hutton, clearing her throat before speaking. "Hello, I am Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship. I have a few question I wish to ask of you, Mister Hutton." she said, her horn flaring as she pulled a nearby chair closer to Hutton. She took a seat, all while a clipboard and feathered quill materialized out of the blue beside her. Hutton glared at the three ponies, keeping his mouth shut. The atmosphere grew awkward as they exchanged uneasy glances.
"Please-" Twilight started, but Hutton was quick to cut her off.
"I ain't saying anything until you explain how you know my name and where the hell I am." Hutton grumbled. Twilight gave a small chuckle and nodded her head in understanding.
"I can assure you that you are not in danger. As the Princess of Friendship, I formally welcome you to the great land of Equestria." she said, spreading her forelegs open, as if putting on a small show. Hutton simply raised an eyebrow in slight skepticism. With a small sag in her shoulders, Twilight gave an awkward smile before continuing.
"Anyway, we found your identification papers on your persons. According to them, you are a Lieutenant in some kind of military branch?" Twilight asked. Hutton turns his attention away, opting to not divulge any information. Doctor Scalpel cleared his throat and addressed Twilight.
"Ma'am, if he is military, he will not divulge any information pertaining to who he is deployed under. Having spent fifteen years in the Army as a combat medic, it's common practice for lost or captured soldiers to keep their mouths closed." he said. Twilight gave a small "Ah." before nodding and thanking Scalpel for the input. Turning back to Hutton, Twilight tried another jab at getting him to speak.
"You know, you're not the first human I have interacted with." Twilight started. Hutton looked to her again, his eyebrow raised yet again at this statement. Seeing his uncertainty, Twilight pushed on. "Yep! The story is long and convoluted, involving magic mirrors and power hungry she-demons, but this is the first time a human has come into Equestria!" Twilight continued. She gives an eager smile, hoping for Hutton to speak.
"Well..." he started. "You say you found my identification papers?" he asked. Twilight nodded in response, her horn flaring once again. In an instant, a small selection of papers materialized between the two of them. Hutton reached up and grabbed them, feeling the magical aura surrounding the papers. It felt cold, but also felt welcoming at the same time.
"Odd..." Hutton mumbled as the magic field vanished. He fingered through the papers, making sure all was accounted for. Seeing that the information was all there, he placed the papers on the bed stand and looked back to Twilight. "Did anyone else survive the crash?" he asked simply. Twilight's ears folded back slightly, a grimace coming to her features.
"Sadly...you were the only one to emerge. The others were dead, presumably on impact." she said softly. Hutton took a moment to take this in. Out of a crew of eleven, and he was the only survivor? Heaviness weighed down on his heart, spreading to his shoulders as the knowledge that he failed in protecting his crew overcame him. He let a sigh escape his lips as he put a hand against his face in growing despair.
"We transferred the bodies to Canterlot, our capital, to the mortician. When you are ready, we can bury them under your supervision." Twilight continued, trying to rest a hoof on his leg. While she said this in an attempt to put his mind at ease, Hutton only felt guilt and anger. It was his duty as the pilot to get those under his command home safely. He knew he already failed when nearly half his crew was lost to the flak, but to know that he failed entirely just gave him nothing but grief.
"Get out." Hutton growled. Twilight reached forward to put a hoof on his shoulder, but Hutton looked up and glared at the mare. She stops in her tracks, withdrawing the hoof. "Now." he said firmly. Twilight looked back to Scalpel and the nurse. The two nod in agreement, stepping back to free up the door for her. As she made the quill and clipboard vanish, Twilight got to her hooves and gave a slight bow to Hutton.
"I apologize, sir. If you wish to talk further, simply let Doctor Scalpel know." she said, turning to leave the room. Before she crossed over the rooms' threshold, Twilight stopped to take once last glance back. Hutton sat with his face buried in his hands, his shoulders beginning to shudder. Twilight sighed and signaled for the other two ponies to follow her out. As the nurse closed the door behind them, she dismisses herself from Scalpel and Twilight. Scalpel glanced to the room door for a moment before speaking.
"You cannot blame him for his behavior, Princess. Someone of his rank is generally given a large dose of responsibility to be held accounted for. I've seen plenty of officers in his current position before. It will be a while before he opens up again." Scalpel said. Twilight sighed yet again, nodding in understanding.
"I get what you're saying, Doctor. There are many who share great responsibilities, but I cannot imagine completely failing with something so vital." she said. Scalpel gave a low chuckle and shook his head a bit.
"If you don't mind my saying, Princess, but not all of us can perform our duties without issue. If I recall, you've had your fair share of problems to overcome as well? Some of which resulted with you under my care for physical strain, no?" Scalpel said, elbowing Twilight in a friendly manner. Twilight chuckled as she nodded.
"I appreciate the insight, Doctor. I do need to be on my way, however. Do contact me when Mister Hutton wishes to continue speaking with me." Twilight requested, bowing her head to Scalpel. He returned the gesture before he turned to walk down the hallway to attend to the rest of his patients. Twilight looked to the placard that displayed the room information. Room 307, Hutton P. With another sigh, Twilight's horn flared as she readied her teleportation spell. With a crack, she vanished from the hallway.
As the hall fell silent, save for the nurses station down the hallway, the sounds of crying could be heard from within Room 307.
~ooo000ooo~
It had been roughly a week since Twilight visited Hutton in his room for the first time. He didn't count the medical staff as 'visitors' per say, they were just there to perform their daily duties. While the nurses and Doctor Scalpel attempted to make small talk with the human, Hutton was still tight lipped. Grief continued to linger within him. At night, the faces of his crew hovered over him, glaring at him, standing around his bed and turning their burning hatred to him. Their faces and bodies were mangled and barely recognizable, their limbs missing and internals spilling out. They looked like the living dead, screaming and shouting accusations of failure and incompetence at Hutton. All he could do was lay there and take the verbal abuse from his rotting crew. But when the sun rose, they would vanish, leaving Hutton alone in his room until the morning nurse came in to check on him.
Soon though, the isolation was starting to get to Hutton. He had become aware of every little thing. The cast on his lower leg itched as if he had fire ants biting away at his skin. The small creaking and settling of the hospital itself seemed to be amplified in the quiet room. Hutton became worried that the building might suddenly collapse on him, burying him and the other occupants. The voices outside his room and down the hall were clear as day, and Hutton could pick up every word, trying to determine if the medical diagnostics and terms were being applied to him.
On the afternoon of his eighth day at the hospital, Hutton finally opened his mouth to Doctor Scalpel.
"I would like to go outside."
The request was simple, yet it took Scalpel slightly aback. Clearing his confusion, Scalpel agreed to the request and ordered a passing nurse to grab a wheel chair. Taking a glance back at the man, Scalpel clarified the size of the wheelchair for the nurse.
Fifteen minutes later, and Scalpel had pushed Hutton out to the courtyard of Ponyville General. With such a limited space, the grounds crew had managed to make the best of the space. The courtyard looked like a miniature grotto, complete with a hidden pool of crystal clear water beneath a rock outcropping. The willow and oak trees hung low, providing plenty of top coverage from the sunlight. The air beneath the canopy was cool and relaxing, rushing through on the back of the wind.
While he maybe in a foreign land now, Hutton somehow felt right at home.
Maybe it was because the grotto reminded him of a hidden area in the woods behind his childhood home in eastern Montana. As he sat in the wheelchair, memories of running through the creeks and thick woods as a teenager began to play out in his mind. He chased his friends, and they in turn chased him right up until dinner time. Only the Lord knew how many girls he took on walks through the dense forests. However, he was the only one who knew how many he kissed in those woods.
A small smile came to his lips as the memories played out in his mind.
"Ah, a smile! A good sign indeed." Scalpel said, patting Hutton's shoulder with a hoof. "Means you're well on your way to recovery." he added.
Hutton scoffed and scratched at the stubble growing on his face.
"I was startin' to go stir crazy in that room, Doc. I needed this." he replied, taking a moment to look at his surroundings further. A Blue Jay flew past him, resting on a branch off to Hutton's right. At the same moment, a crimson red Cardinal darted in and out of his view. Hutton's breathing became deeper and relaxed, his shoulders beginning to sag.
"Lieutenant," Scalpel began. A feeling of slight dread creeps into Hutton now. Was the doctor really going to ruin this moment? "How...how are you taking the, erm..." Scalpel trailed off, knowing that if he said the wrong thing, Hutton would clam up again. However, Hutton knew where Scalpel was going with this.
It was about time he faced it.
"The losses?" he asked. Scalpel gave a small sigh of relief, nodding while giving a fatherly look to the man. Hutton took a moment to scratch his stubble again before shaking his head a bit. "I'll be honest, I fucking hate it." he started. In his chest, Hutton could feel his begin to heart pump faster. His throat constricted, as if it was an attempt to stop him from going into a rage fueled rant about the unfairness of war. The feeling of tears came to his eyes, and Scalpel could see this.
"Take your time, we're not going anywhere anytime soon. Think of me not only as your doctor, but your psychiatrist also." Scalpel added, trying to make a small joke to lighten the atmosphere. Hutton gives a humored grunt before casting his gaze to the cobblestone path.
"I was responsible for those boys, Doc." he started. In a blink, his gaze locks with Scalpels. "They were boys." he emphasizes. "Their lives were in my hands, and I failed them."
These words hurt Hutton deeply. He took pride in accomplishing his missions and going against the impossible, but coming to terms with his failure struck a deep cord in his heart, striking hard on his pride.
He began to cry.
"I...I can see them at night. Standing over me, screaming, pointing their rotting fingers. Condemning me to Hell for my failure. " he continued, saying the words through gritted teeth as tears streamed down his features. He can see his crews ghoulish features in his mind now, their faces twisted and demonic with rot and anger. Scalpel rests a hoof on Hutton's shoulder, telling him it was okay.
"You were at war, weren't you?" he asked. Hutton simply nodded, his head hanging over his chest. "I figured. Look, I'm not going to baby you with this, sir." Scalpel continued. His tone had switched from one of professional comforter, to hardened fact giver. "But war is hell. I'm sure you heard last week, but I served as well. I have seen others in your position hundreds of times." Scalpel said, standing before the human.
"And do you know what I told the others?" he asked. Hutton looked up, his eyes puffy and red.
"What?" he croaked out.
"You failed, sir. Those boys are now dead, but you could only do so much to protect them. Knowing this, do you know what you do now? You pick yourself up. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're a Lieutenant for Celestia sake! Others look to you for leadership in critical moments!" Now, Scalpel was in full blown Drill Sergeant mode. To an outsider, this scene would seem rather ridiculous and somewhat humorous, a talking pony screaming at a crying human man, but this was exactly what Hutton needed.
"Wipe your tears, suck it up, and learn from this failure. Those who do not learn from their past, are doomed to repeat it." Scalpel continued. He gave a hard look at Hutton. "Are you the kind to repeat yourself, Lieutenant Hutton?"
The question burned itself into Hutton's mind. In that moment, everything began to clear itself.
"N-No, I'm not." Hutton croaked again. His back straightened as he brought a hand up to wipe away his tears. The grief he held began to ebb away. The ghoulish visions in his mind began to vanish, their screaming voices softening to silence. Somehow, this talking pony had dragged Hutton through two years of PTSD and survivors' guilt therapy in five minutes. At that moment, Hutton realized Scalpel's horn was glowing. Following Hutton's glance, Scalpel put on a smile.
"Strong words and a simple memory eraser spell, sir." Scalpel said, turning off his magic. "You no longer remember the phantoms that tormented you, but you still remember those you lost. Take what I asked with you wherever you go. Whether it be here in Equestria, or back from where you're from, do not repeat your past. I cannot say it enough." Scalpel finished. Hutton looked at the doctor in disbelief. He wasn't offended that the unicorn had used magic on him, although he should be, rather he was grateful for his words and magical abilities.
"If I can ask, what was your rank?" Hutton asked. Scalpel blinks.
"Oh, me? I was a simple Lance Corporal in the Recovery Corps." Scalpel said proudly, bringing a hoof to his chest in a small show of pride. Hutton chuckled, a smile breaking through his features now. Scalpel shared the feeling, joining Hutton in the laughter.
"Look at me, a Lieutenant being scolded by a Lance Corporal." Hutton said, his laughter dying down a bit.
"I'll send my bill in the mail, and I request that you put me in for a promotion!" Scalpel joked, sending the two into another string of laughter. Hutton shook Scalpel's hoof with both hands and thanked him once again.
In that moment, sitting in a hospital grotto, Hutton made a new friend in this strange land. Maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay after all.
When Lightning Cracks, Thunder Rumbles
Chapter 03: Hutton's Holly-Marie
"Christ, she is a mess, ain't she?" Hutton said, staring at the wreck of Hutton's Holly-Marie . He wore his flight uniform and jacket, the items having been returned to him after he was discharged from the hospital. The staff took it upon them to repair any damage done to the garments. A few days had passed since Hutton and Scalpel bonded in the grotto. In those days, Hutton was more open and cooperative, especially when Twilight had come to visit him again. During their conversation, Twilight learned that Hutton did indeed come from the same world she had previously visited, but he came from a time before her visit.
"Canterlot High? Yeah, they made every newspaper headline across the country. The Wondercolts had beaten Crystal Prep in the game of the century! Some called it 'The Winter Miracle'. The game was so closely watched, it overshadowed the Reds-Tigers World Series!"
During her visit to the human world, Twilight had studied up on the local history in her attempt to learn as much as she could about humans. She had read that The Winter Miracle had happened in the year 1940, and the aged victory banner hung proudly in the main lobby of CHS. During her readings, she also learned of two terrible wars that enveloped entire countries, but there hadn't been a conflict like it since, so she brushed it aside to learn more recent history and cultures.
Now, she wished she hadn't glazed over such big details in human history.
Approaching the wrecked bomber, Hutton rested a hand against the tarnished nose art that adorned the right of the bomber's nose. A brunette-headed female model sat mostly nude with her back to the viewer, her hazelnut eyes glancing over her shoulder as a hand slipped one of the straps of her brazer off her shoulder in a suggestive manner. A teasing smile barely showed over her shoulder. Below her and over her hidden shoulder, the words Hutton's Holly-Marie were emblazoned across the battered surface in a delicate, cursive font with bright red coloring.
"Poor girl..." Hutton muttered. Scalpel stood nearby, appreciating the artwork, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
"Interesting art, wouldn't you say, Princess?" he asked. Twilight, on the other hand, was doing her best to avert her gaze as best as she could. She knew all the human female form all too well, having been thrust into it during her visit, and to see it in such a manner brought a furious blush to her cheeks.
"Yes, interesting. Can we move on?" she asked impatiently. The two males glanced at her, sharing a chuckle as they made their way through the wreckage.
"So, who is she?" Twilight asked. A smile crept across Hutton's lips.
"She's my girl. Holly-Marie Langley." he said. "We got engaged right before I..." he trailed off. "Ah hell...she probably thinks I'm...well, dead." he realized, looking at the two ponies. The two of them exchanged glances. Twilight cleared her throat.
"Well, it will be no issue to get you home actually." she said. Hutton stopped and looked at her.
"What do you mean?" he asked simply.
"The mirror I used to get to your world. If I recall, it is still in working condition. There is one snag however," she started. Hutton rolled a hand for her to continue. "It will need some severe re-calibrations for you to enter your time, and time-travel is one tricky field of magic. I can't do it alone, but I do know others who can lend their help." she continued.
"Well, that sounds promising. How soon can you start?" Hutton pressed. Twilight stopped to take a moment to think it over.
"With some luck, five months." she said. All goes quiet.
"Five months? " Hutton asks, emphasizing the question, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.
"Well, yes! Myself, my pupil, Star-Swirl, Sunburst, and the Princesses will all have to collaborate on this subject, not to mention trying to line up our schedules will be tricky as well, as we are all busy ponies. It will take a while to even lock down the two timelines for the transfer to even be considered. Time travel maybe science fiction where you're from, but here? It's a real idea, one that must be tread with carefulness." Twilight warned. Huttons' shoulders sagged, a feeling of temporary defeat jolting through his being.
"We will cross that bridge when we get to it, Hutton. But for now, why not enjoy the local life? Maybe explain to us what this thing is?" Scalpel suggested as he gestured to the wrecked bomber.
The bomber sat in the field undisturbed, by request of Twilight, during Hutton's hospitalization. Guards were posted at the crash site around the clock, turning away the curious eyes of civilians. Given the chance to settle, the bomber looked even more miserable than Hutton had thought.
"Well, this was the pride of the Six-hundred Forty-Fifth Strategic Bombing Squadron. My ol' girl here is a B-17 Flying Fortress. There are hundreds of these in America's bombing force. There is a crew of eleven to operate these beasts and it can deliver roughly two-thousand pounds of explosive ordnance." Hutton explained. Scalpel gave a small whistle.
"That sounds like a lot of hurt." he said. Hutton simply nodded and continued.
"Made for high-altitude, strategic bombing, flights of these can be up to the hundreds, delivering hell on factories, rail yards, and at some points, entire cities."
Twilight gave a sharp gasp in that moment.
"You've destroyed cities ? What about those who live in them?" she protested, stamping a hoof.
"If the local forces are quick enough on the alarms, they're given plenty of time to evacuate to shelters. If not, well..." Hutton trailed off. Twilight gave a look of pure disgust with the notion that was meant to follow the statement.
"You're telling me that not even civilians are safe from these things?" she asked, gesturing to the wreck. Hutton simply shook his head.
"War is a game of back and forth, Princess. The enemy bombs us, we bomb them. Both sides bombing each other into submission. It's dirty work, and it's not enjoyable, but it has to be done." he said. While this seemed to register with Twilight, she still held a look of disgust.
"How can you just brush it off like it's nothing? I don't understand." she asks. Hutton opened his mouth, but Scalpel cuts in.
"Sometimes Princess, there are somethings that you cannot think about. All it does is hamper your ability to perform the duty given to you from those in higher ranks." he said. Twilight exchanged glances with the males before sighing and dropping the topic. She still didn't quite understand the reasoning, but she decided to just move on. To her credit, she understood that Hutton had his duties, as she's had her own in the past, but to do them without a second thought is what she couldn't grasp.
After a few minutes, Hutton and the two ponies left the wreck site and made their way back to Ponyville. Around noon, Scalpel departed Hutton and Twilight's company to attend to some paperwork in his office. A few minutes later, and Hutton's stomach gave a growl of hunger.
Twilight simply giggled. "Hungry, are we?" she asked. Hutton patted his stomach and nodded. It had been a while since he had eaten some decent food.
"Yeah, that hospital food was alright, kinda reminded me of the food back home actually. But, I think I need something a little more hearty, if you catch my meaning." he suggests, giving a small scrunch of his face as his stomach growled again.
"Well, lucky for you, I know just the pony who can deliver a filling meal. Come on, it will only take a second." Twilight said. Stopping in front of Hutton, Twilight's horn flashed without warning. Before Hutton knew it, the two of them were standing at the entrance to a winding path.
Immediately, his stomach gave its' own protest.
"Oh shoot, I forgot your kind isn't used to teleportation! I'm so sorry! It is honestly second nature for me!" Twilight pleaded, trying to get her words heard over Hutton's retching and vomiting.
"Yeah, well-" he started before being hit by another wave of nausea. "Some warning next time?" he finished. Twilight promised that she will try to remember next time as Hutton stood himself up. Wiping his mouth on the back of his flight jackets' sleeve, he took in his new surroundings. "Where are we?"
"Sweet Apple Orchards! This is the home of my friend Applejack and her family. When I first visited Ponyville, Applejack and her relatives put on a whole plethora of food for me to sample as I met them. Needless to say, I was stuffed afterwards. Oh, fair warning, I hope you like apples." she says.
"Guessing a lot of their food is apple based?" Hutton asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Roughly ninety-eight percent of it is. It is their family business, after all. Come along Mister Hutton." Twilight said as she took the lead down the road. The two walked in silence for a while, the dirt and gravel crunching under their steps as they walked. The air smelled faintly of apples, giving Hutton a sweet taste on the back of his tongue as he breathed in the scent. Within minutes, Hutton could see a red barn with an adjoined farm house in the distance. Surrounding the homestead, rows upon rows of healthy apple trees stretched on for what seemed like miles.
"Whoa..." Hutton said, taking in the view. Twilight giggled again, gesturing for him to follow. Silence followed them as they walked again, but soon Twilight perked up.
"Oh! Big Mac!" she called, stopping to wave a hoof. Hutton looked forward and spotted another pony, this one approaching them with a wagon filled to the brim with apples. The red stallion in question stopped and returned the wave, but stopped the moment he saw Hutton, who gave an awkward wave of his own. Big Mac's eyes went wide with shock. Hutton leaned down and whispered in Twilights' ear.
"I guess it's his first time seeing a human?"
"It will be the first time for a lot of ponies you're going to meet, so expect this type of reaction a lot ." she said, looking back to Big Mac. "Big Mac, I would like you to meet a newcomer to Equestria. This is Lieutenant Phillip Hutton." she said, gesturing a hoof to the human beside her.
"H-Howdy..." Big Mac mumbled quietly. The stallion flinched as Hutton puts out a hand for a greeting, but Big Mac just stared. Hutton lowered the hand, giving an uneasy chuckle.
"Nice land you have here." he said, trying to break the awkwardness. "Reminds me of the ranch I grew up on." he added, looking around again. Big Mac simply raises an eyebrow.
"Farm life yourself?" Big Mac asked, his voice breaking into one of acceptance.
"Eeyup, grew up on a wheat farm. Golden fields far as the eye could see." Hutton said, smiling a bit. This seemed to put Big Mac at ease a bit as he looked to Twilight again.
"If'n ya'll will excuse me, Ah have a delivery to make. Pleasure, Mister Hutton." he said, his southern drawl coming out fully. Twilight and Hutton stepped aside to allow Big Mac clearance. They watched for a minute as the stallion pulled his cart along the road, making his way towards town.
"Oh, Big Mac! Is Applejack home?" Twilight shouted to him.
"Eeyup!" he called back.
"He's Applejack's brother. He normally doesn't say much, he lets his actions do the talking for him." Twilight explained as they resumed their walk.
"I can respect that," Hutton replied. "But it's usually the quiet ones you need to watch for."
"Don't let his laid back looks deceive you Mister Hutton, Big Mac has helped me and my friends in a couple pinches in the past." Twilight countered. The two fell into silence again as the barn drew closer. Stepping up to the split door, Twilight knocked and stepped back. From within, the sounds of clamoring could be heard, followed by a couple voices.
"Gol'darnit Applebloom! I told ya' ta' be more careful with that!"
"Ah'm sorry Applejack, but the knockin' spooked me!"
"Speakin' of, I'll go see who's at the door. You just clean up all that flour!"
In moments, the upper half of the door swung open, and an orange pony draped her legs over the lower half. She did not bear a horn or a set of wings, rather a brown stetson sat on top of a blonde mane. Flour stained her coat and hat, a slightly disgruntled look being held on her face. Seeing Twilight, Applejack's green eyes popped open with surprise.
"Twilight! Well ah'll be! Ain't this a pleasure!" she said happily. At that moment, she spotted Hutton and her eyebrows raised. "Whoa, you're a biggin', ain't ya'?" she asked, her tone slight shocked.
"Applejack, this is Lieutenant Phillip Hutton. He told me he wanted to try out some of the local food, so I brought him here!" she said with a smile. Applejack looked to Twilight, lowering one eyebrow before speaking.
"Is he one of them...uh...humans you were talkin' about couple years back?" she asked, eyeing Hutton for a second.
"Yes, he is indeed a human." Twilight answered simply, holding her smile. Applejack put a hoof to her forehead and wiped away some flour before speaking.
"Well, Mister Hutton," she started. "Ah sure hope ya'll enjoy the flavor of apple!" she said, giving a warm smile to the man.
"Twilight here has already warned me of your family's tendencies, but lucky for you, apple is my favorite flavor!" he said, returning the smile. Applejack let out a small whoop before she stepped back to open the lower half of the door.
"Come on in you two, I'll whip somethin' up right quick!" she said, trotting over to the oven. Twilight and Hutton entered the kitchen, seeing a young mare cleaning up some spilled flour on the aged wood floor. She too lacked a horn and wings, telling Hutton that she was the same species as Applejack and Big Mac. Looking up, the red-headed filly gasped at the sight of Hutton.
"M-monster!" she cried, running out of the kitchen. Hutton and the mares stood in slight confusion with silence filling the air.
"Well...she certainly took off like greased lightnin', didn't she?" he says, breaking the silence. Applejack simply chuckled and shook her head.
"She'll come around again, don' you worry about her. She doesn' stay away from tha kitchen long when dinner is bein' made. That was Applebloom, by the way. She's mah little sister." Applejack explained as she stirred a simmering pot on the stove. Hutton could smell something sweet and stepped over to look in the pot.
"Applesauce?" he asked simply. Applejack nodded and smiled again.
"Eeyup, homemade. Wanna try a bit?" she asked, lifting the spoon from the pot. A golden lump of mashed apples sat within the spoons' divot. Accepting the spoon, Hutton lightly slurpped the applesauce and smacked his lips a bit. A couple seconds passed before he began nodding in approval.
"Well I'll be ma'am, that is quite delicious!" he said approvingly, returning the spoon to Applejack.
"Glad ya'll approve, it's gonna be a part of dinner tonight." she said, as she resumed stirring.
"Well I can't wait for more, then!" he said. The two shared a chuckle before a new voice joined them.
"Applejack? Why is Applebloom goin' on about a-" at that moment, an elderly green mare hobbled into the kitchen. Immediately her eyes locked on Hutton. "MONSTER!" she yelled.
"Granny, no!" Applejack protested. But it was too late, within seconds, various items were being flung through the air towards Hutton. In her fury, the elderly mare was stringing together a plethora of curses and swears that made Twilight blush furiously. Hutton dodged and ducked past and under kitchen utensils, plates, and even a couple chairs. Applejack managed to make her way to the whirlwind mare, taking her out of her fury.
"Granny, relax! This is a friend of Twilight! He's visitin' for dinner! He ain't no monster! Put on yer glasses darn it!" Applejack orered, reaching over to a counter top to grab a pair of glasses. Passing them to the elderly mare, Granny Smith put on her glasses and took a moment to blink. Squinting at Hutton, her demeanor seemed to change in an instant.
"Well, yer certainly a strange one, ain'tcha?" she said, hobbling over to get a better look at the man. "Never seen yer kind before, Ah can say that fer certain!" she added, looking up to Hutton now. "What'scher name?" she asked.
"Lieutenant Phillip Hutton, ma'am. I'm sorry if I've caused any panic." he said reassuringly.
"Oh, never you mind that now! If Ah had my spectacles, things would'a been different, is all. Er, now, what's this about him staying for dinner, Applejack?" she asked, looking to her granddaughter.
"Ah'm guessin' he wants ta' try some local food," she started, looking to Hutton. "Right?" she asked. Hutton simply nodded and started reaching for the few items Granny Smith had thrown at him.
"Oh, I got this!" Twilight said. Her horn flared again, a lavender glow enveloping everything that had been thrown. Within seconds, it was all put back into place and tidied up. After this, Granny Smith turned to holler back down the hall.
"Applebloom, get yer' keister back in here an' apologize to our guest!"
A couple minutes passed before the young red-head poked her head back in. Seeing that nothing bad had happened, she sheepishly stepped back into the kitchen, standing next to Granny Smith. She began pawing at the floor, trying to form the words.
"Ah'm sorry..." she said quietly, averting her gaze to the floor.
"A little louder, Applebloom?" Granny Smith pushed. The filly raised her head up and looked at Hutton.
"Ah'm sorry! Ah didn' mean ta freak out like that." she said crisply. Granny Smith nodded in approval and looked to Hutton.
"It's no problem, honestly. I know I'm a bit, well, abnormal around these parts." he said, smiling a bit. This seemed to put Applebloom at ease, and soon she stood next to Applejack, rearing up to try the applesauce.
"Our tables open to you, Mister Hutton." Applejack said. At this, Granny Smith took a seat, gesturing for Twilight and Hutton to do the same.
"So, tell me about yourself. Yer not from these parts, Ah don' need mah glasses tell that much!" Granny said, turning her attention to Hutton again.
"Well, what would you like to know?" he asked simply.
"How about yer family life? Twilight says you're a Lieutenant, but what was your home life like?" she asked.
"Nothing to really say. I grew up in a farming family in eastern Minnesota, played football in high school, graduated just in time to enlist. Got engaged to a sweet girl who probably thinks I'm dead by now." Hutton said, giving a meager shrug. "Like I said, there's not much to go on about my past. Grew up like everyone else, really." he finished.
"Farm family, eh? What did ya'll grow?" Granny asked, leaning forward a bit.
"Wheat. On winter mornings, the wheat tops would be frosted, turning the fields from gold to white. It was beautiful, really. When the wind would hit just right in the late spring, it was like we were watching a golden tide as the crops ruffled with the wind." he said, gazing off as the memories played out in his mind.
"Mmm, mhmm! I can share the memory with ya'! I know a family down south near Applewood who grow vast wheat fields. We trade goods every start of the harvest season. We give them apples and jams, they give us flour and bread. It's a nice exchange, but they're just the one of many we conduct business with." Granny said, looking to Applejack. "How's Wheat Chaff's daughter doing? You hear from her lately?" she asked.
Pulling out a few pie-like items, Applejack set them on a nearby counter top to let them cool.
"Last Ah heard, Barley is doin' jus' fine. Actually had a young filly this past winter!" she said happily. Granny Smith clapped her hooves together in glee.
"Oh, how lovely! Ah'll have to put together a little somethin'-somethin' before I see her." she said, eyeing the pies. "What we havin' fer dinner, youngin'?" she asked. Applejack looks to Hutton and smiles.
"Funny ya'll mention wheat, we're havin' apple and wheat fritters, topped with homemade applesauce." she said, putting the plates together. Taking a moment to drizzle the applesauce on top, she distributed the meals among Twilight, herself, Hutton, Applebloom and Granny. Looking at his own share, Hutton looked over the fritter. Sticking a fork in, he withdrew a bit of crust and filling. Popping it into his mouth, he chewed for a minute before the flavor hits him in full.
"Whoa! That's damn good!" he said happily, taking another bite. "Lotta flavor in this!" he added before putting the fork into the fritter again. The Apple mares chuckled with happiness, watching the human enjoy the food.
"Glad ya' enjoy it! That there is a family recipe, passed down for roughly four generations now. Used ta get my grandma an' her family through tha' harsher winters." Granny Smith said, taking bites into her own fritter. The others began to eat as well, savoring the flavors. Within a few minutes, Hutton began holding longer conversations with the ponies, telling them stories of his childhood and teen years, while listening to the stories they had to offer.
And that is how the night went, filled with stories, laughter, and good food. Later in the night, when Applebloom had gone to bed, Granny Smith broke out a bottle of hard apple cider. Big Mac had gotten home from his delivery, and after getting over the second shock of seeing Hutton, soon struck up a conversation with Hutton as the adults sipped at their ciders. Soon, night had fallen on the farm, and Twilight and Hutton said their goodbyes to the Apples.
"That went well!" Hutton said, smiling as he held his hands in his pockets.
"I would say so!" Twilight replied, trotting along side him. "I still manage to feel so full after having dinner with them." she added, rubbing her stomach with a hoof.
"Oof, I know what you mean. That fritter sure was dense. That was probably the best home cooking I've had to date!" he said, patting his own stomach. The two fall into silence as they walked. The moon hung high in the sky above, casting a pale blue glow down on the farmland.
"I got a question for you." Hutton said suddenly. Twilight looked up to him, curious as to what he had to ask. "What's going to happen with my aircraft?" he asked simply. Twilight is quick on the answer.
"Well, if it's alright with you, I would like to have some researchers come down from Canterlot to take the remains to study the machinery. We can learn plenty from your aircraft to help with our own aeronautics development. All we have right now are blimps and pony powered helicopters." Twilight explained.
"You do realize that a lot of the machinery on there is technically classified to those who are not a part of the American armed forces, yeah?" Hutton asked. Twilight's ears seem to fall back a bit, certain he was saying no. "But," he started. "I would like to see her be put to good use, and not just sitting there in a field." he said. Twilight immediately perked up, smiling brightly.
"Oh! Thank you so much! I will contact them in the morning!" she said, practically hopping with eagerness in her walk how.
"One condition, I would like to oversee the transfer. She needs her man there, after all." he added. Twilight nodded in approval and the two continued to walk, falling into silence again.
A few minutes passed, and Twilight suddenly stopped in her tracks, her face scrunched up in thought.
"What's up?" Hutton asked, realizing the little pony had stopped.
"I just realized, you don't have a place to sleep, do you?" she asked. This realization hit Hutton like a ton of bricks. He didn't have the hospital to stay at now, and he sure as hell didn't have the money to stay at a local hotel.
"I...I guess I don't, do I?" he replied. "Know of any place that might take me in for a few nights?" he asks.
"Well, there's my castle." Twilight simply suggested.
"You mean that thing I almost hit on the way in?" Hutton asked, gesturing off vaguely over his shoulder. Rolling her eyes and nodding, Twilight gestured for him to step closer.
"Yes, my castle that you almost hit. I have plenty of room for you to stay. Just one condition, though," she said, her horn sparking to life.
"What's that?" Hutton asked, looking to her horn.
"Do help with some chores every now and then, please?" she asked sweetly. Before Hutton could agree, the two vanish from Sweet Apple Acres and appeared right at the front door of Twilight's castle. Holding onto his dinner, Hutton fought the urge to vomit again, although he came really close to dousing poor Twilight in half-digested fritter. Signalling that he was going to be okay, Twilight opened the door for Hutton and the two entered, ready to turn in for the night.
Author's Note
A second chapter? In one day!??! Impossibru!
Think of this second chapter as a New Year's present to those of you who are enjoying this story so far. I can't thank you enough for picking this up!
I hope to keep you all along for the ride, because from here, it's only going to get wilder.
With love, CS
When Lightning Cracks, Thunder Rumbles
Hutton couldn't sleep.
It wasn't because he was allowed to sleep in a strange room, although it certainly didn't help, it was just that his mind would not shut off. Rather than toss and turn in the silk-like sheets, Hutton merely propped himself on the large windowsill and looked out towards the east of Ponyville. His mind raced with the prospect of getting home through the efforts of these magical ponies.
But what he wasn't too keen on, was how long Twilight said it would take for things to be readied.
"Time travel maybe science fiction where you're from. But here? It is a very real idea, one that must be tread with carefulness."
Those words from Twilight rang through his mind, echoing like a constant reminder that time travel is serious work in this land.
Staring out, he could faintly see the skyline of a large city resting on the horizon. Before that, there was nothing but a green expanse of trees and fields, stitched together by the empty railroad that stretched towards the city. On occasion, he would see a lone train chugging along the rails, going to and from the various stops along its' route.
He watched as the sun began to peak over the horizon, its' shining beams creeping over the land quickly as the night retreated. He had seen plenty of sunrises in his life time, many of them beautiful. But to experience one in an alien place, well, that just might top his list.
Around seven-thirty, Hutton heard a quiet knocking at the door. Shifting from his position, he walked over to the door and opened it. The hall was quiet and empty. Hutton was about to turn back and close the door, when someone cleared their throat.
"Uh, down here?" said a young male voice. Turning back and looking down, Hutton is greeted by the sight of a green and purple lizard, one who was giving an awkward smile up to him. Coming up to Hutton's knee, a few beads of sweat trickle down the lizards' temple. "U-uhm...Twilight wanted me to come and fetch you for breakfast..." he said nervously, clearly intimidated by Hutton's presence.
"Talking ponies, and talking iguanas. Now I've seen everything." Hutton said, scratching at his chin again. The young lizard became visibly upset at being called an iguana, his face scrunching up into a scowl as he crossed his tiny arms across his chest.
"I am not and iguana. I am a terrible, fire-breathing dragon , thank you very much!" scoffed the lizard, turning his snout up and away from Hutton. The human simply gave an amused chuckle, resting against the doorway.
"A dragon, huh? Kid, you're a little too small to be one. And, where I'm from, dragons are nothing but myth." Hutton said confidently. The lizard simply raised an eyebrow in a 'Are You Serious' manner, complete with a deadpanned expression.
"I know where you're from, and I know that dragons are fake there. You're also in a land full of magical, talking ponies. Do you really find it hard to believe that dragons exist here?"
Hutton blinked. He hadn't considered that until now. Come to think of it, it would make sense for fictional creatures to exist somewhere , right? That only made him wonder what other types of creatures existed in this land. Maybe the Loch Ness Monster actually lived here?
"Huh. You got me there, kid." Hutton said simply. The dragon gave a smug smile and turned on his heel.
"Come on, it's breakfast time!" He said, already jogging off.
Stepping out and closing the door, Hutton followed the little dragon along the hallway, trying to cut his own speed down so that he could follow the dragon to where they needed to be.
"Got a name, kid?" Hutton asked.
"Name's Spike! How about you?" asked Spike, looking up to Hutton.
"Phillip Hutton, but many just call me Hutton. Phil is too common a nickname where I'm from." he said. "Speaking of, how do you have experience with my kind? I thought it was just Twilight who did." Hutton pointed out.
"Huh? Oh! That! Well, I kinda jumped after her through the mirror. I was worried that she might've gotten hurt or lost without her Number One Assistant there to keep her head together. It was a good thing I went along, the moment she came to, Twilight started freaking out ." Spike said, a chuckle following his explanation. "It was kinda funny to watch." he added.
"I'd imagine it would be strange entering a world completely new. I didn't have the chance to freak out. I had just survived a plane crash, not knowing what was going on exactly. Kinda passed out before I could register what was going on when I stumbled out." Hutton said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.
"Wasn't it scary?" Spike asked, looking up at him.
"Sure as Hell was. I was pretty sure that I was going to die." Hutton said simply. Spike simply gave a small 'Whoa' before they finally approached a set of double doors. Grabbing a doorknob, Spike stepped aside to allow Hutton entry into the room. It takes all but a second for Hutton to be amazed by the room he entered. The ceiling was adorned by a twisting and erratic chandelier. The surface looked oddly like wood, while multi-colored lights dangled from the ends of the limbs. The room itself was large and circular, while a large round table complete with high-backed chairs sits directly in the middle. Voices filled the air, all of various tones and conversations. The smell of hot pancakes hits Hutton, causing his stomach to growl.
The growl was loud enough to stop all conversation entirely.
At that moment, seven mares peaked from around the high-backed chairs, looking right at Spike and Hutton.
Five of them give a look of recognition, while the remaining two held looks of either pure shock or curiosity.
"Ah, good morning Mister Hutton! I trust you slept well?" piped up Twilight, a warm smile adorning her features.
"Uh, kinda, I couldn't sleep really." Hutton admitted. Twilight's face turned to one of concern.
"Was the bed too small? Or was it too cold in the room?" she asked.
"No no, my mind wouldn't shut off is all. Just thinking to myself, mostly." he replied. Deeming this an acceptable answer, Twilight signaled for him to join them at the large table. Walking over, Hutton took off his flight jacket and draped it over the back of an empty chair. Taking his seat next to Twilight, he looked at the faces of the other mares, who all stared back at him. "Uhm, hello." he greeted meekly. Chuckling a bit, Twilight extended a hoof to the others.
"Lieutenant, these are my friends; Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Applejack you already know, and Starlight Glimmer. Girls, this is Lieutenant Phillip Hutton. He's a visitor here and will be here for a while." Twilight said, giving a smile.
"A visitor, indeed. Causing such a ruckus on his way in." Rarity harrumphed, taking a delicate bite from her pancake. Twilight casted a quick glance to Rarity before Applejack spoke up.
"How ya' likin' yer visit so far?" she asked, munching down on a bright green apple.
"It's certainly different, but at the same time, it kind of reminds me of home." Hutton explained. At that moment, a plate of pancakes slid in front of him, followed by the sounds of Spike retreating to the kitchen. Looking up, Hutton jumped back, the sight of a obnoxiously pink mare right in his face had spooked him. She looked him over with a look of suspicion. Hutton awkwardly smiled and casted a glance to Twilight.
"What is she doing?" he harshly whispered, although he was certain the pink pony could hear him.
"Let her be. Pinkie Pie is rather...unique, in her own way." Twilight said simply, watching with a bemused smile.
"You don't look like a baddie." Pinkie said, sniffing the air now. Hutton thought he felt a drip of blood trickle out of his ear, the mares' voice was just as obnoxious as her appearance. "You don't smell like a baddie." she added. Suddenly Hutton is greeted by a sloppy lick on his left cheek, leaving the man stunned. Smacking her lips and thinking the flavor over, Pinkie continued, "And you don't taste like a baddie either." Content with this investigation, Pinkie Pie broke her look of suspicion, turning to a look that welcomed Hutton like an old friend. "Welcome to Ponyville Mister Hutton!" she cheered, eagerly grabbing his hand with her hooves. She shook it with the strength of a hundred ponies, rattling the poor man in his seat.
"Pinkie, stop." Twilight ordered calmly. She was used to Pinkie's childish antics, and a calm voice always seemed to resolve them rather quickly. Letting his hand go, Pinkie took a single bound into the air and landed perfectly in her seat before diving into her pancakes. Hutton hooks his hand, rubbing it a bit to regain the feeling he had lost.
"U-uhmm..." sounded a voice. Was it a voice? Hutton could've sworn he just heard a mouse within the room. Looking at the various ponies, he finally rested his gaze on a yellow pegasus. Her face was hidden by a curtain of a long, pink mane.
She spoke so quietly, it was a wonder that Hutton had managed to pick it up. "H-hello..."she squeaked. Twilight leaned over to Hutton, whispering into his ear.
"That's Fluttershy. She's normally shy around newcomers, but she will warm up to you soon. Turns into a completely different mare when you get to know her."
"Ah, I know her kind. Super conservative and keeps to herself?" he whispered back. Twilight nodded in confirmation, which Hutton returned. The two leaned away and Hutton gave a gentle wave towards Fluttershy. At that moment, Rainbow Dash opens piped up.
"What was that thing you came out of the other night? It sure made a lot of noise!" she said, taking a bite of her breakfast. Hutton could see Rarity nodding in agreement out of the corner of his eye.
"That was just my aircraft." he answered, putting a fork into his pancakes, cutting off a sizable chunk to eat.
"Why was it on fire? Is that normal?" Rainbow asked, fixating him with a look of curiosity. "How fast can it go?" she added.
"It was on fire because I had ran into some trouble," he answered. "As if that was an understatement." he mentally added. "No, that's not normal for it to do either. As for her speed, she can go nearly three-hundred miles per hour with a full load." he finished, taking his bite. The vanilla sweetness of the pancake practically punched Hutton in the mouth, popping his eyes open wide. Unlike his stack, which was just plain with no toppings, the others had various toppings that seemed to reflect their personalities. Hutton could only wonder at the explosion of flavor their pancakes would have delivered to him.
"Oh, it's a 'she', now is it?" Applejack asked, wiggling her eyebrow in a playful manner. Pinkie seemed to catch the implied joke and gave a giggle. Hutton joined Pinkie for a moment, shaking his head a bit.
"No no, nothing like that ." he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Like most women where I'm from, machines can be just as temperamental and tricky to work with or even understand. It's a habit for most men to give their machines the name of a woman, but that usually only happens when they've gotten comfortable with what they are operating." he explained, taking another bite off his stack. Rainbow Dash took the beat of silence to continue speaking.
"Three-hundred, eh? That's pretty fast for something that big. Not as fast as me though!" Rainbow said, falling into a boastful tone as she leaned back, like she had something to brag about. Her posture reminded Hutton of the Air Corps fighter pilots he worked with. Each seemed to have something to brag about, whether it be their kill count or about how they were skilled in maneuvering their aircraft.
"She would fit right in with the fighter jockeys, that much I can tell." Hutton thought to himself. Rarity simply groaned and rolled her eyes, casting a glance to the cyan pegasus.
"Rainbow, dear, please don't start bragging at the new comer. Let him learn on his own." she pleaded. Rainbow Dash simply laughed.
"How else is he going to know who the fastest pegasus in Equestria is? He doesn't strike me as the type to pick up a book." she said, smirking at Hutton. Hutton, to his merit, felt insulted at this. He was about to open his mouth when Twilight interjected.
"Rainbow, you've pick up plenty of books, yet you're the most athletic of us. I'm sure Mister Hutton, in his profession, is no stranger to reading the finer works of his people." she said, chiding the pegasus. Rainbow scrunched her face, realizing that she had said something quite rude. In her embarrassment, she took a bite of her pancakes.
"Still," she started, talking through her food. "I hold the record for fastest flight time. I'm the only one can even create a Sonic-Rainboom!" she added, taking another bite. Rarity held a look of disgust at Rainbows lack of table manners.
"Sonic-Rainboom?" Hutton asked simply. Rarity groaned out loud now, knowing what was to come. And she was right, Rainbow Dash let a smile creep across her lips. Flaring her wings and bolting to stand on the table, she presented herself like a hero before Hutton.
"Yeah! A Sonic-Rainboom! I go so fast, I break the sound barrier! The explosion is like a rippling rainbow and I go even faster! I'm the only one who can do it, and it's part of the reason why I got onto the Wonderbolts!" she bragged, rubbing a forehoof against her chest in a ocky manner, complete with a confident smile.
"Oh yeah, definite fighter jockey."
"You also got on the team because you managed to teach Spitfire a lesson or two!" Pinkie Pie interjected, but Rainbow just waved it off. She was in her element, she didn't need to worry about small details like that, even if they did play a bigger role than her unique abilities.
"Sounds impressive," Hutton started. "But nothing can compare to our fighter aircraft." he continued. Now it was Hutton's turn to brag. Twilight was quick to put a stop to it, however.
"You can tell us more some other time, Mister Hutton. For now, Rainbow Dash needs to be on her way to work, don't you?" she asked, casting a glance to the prideful pegasus. Looking at a nearby clock, panic filled Rainbow's features. In a blur of motion, she grabbed the last of her pancakes and sped out of the castle, a rainbow trail following her. Her plate simply teetered on its' rim before coming to a stop. Turning his attention to Rarity, Hutton spoke up.
"Rarity, right?" he asks, pointing to her. The unicorn raises an eyebrow, glancing to his gesturing finger.
"It's impolite to point darling, but yes, that is correct. I trust you have something to ask?"
"You seem to be in a bad mood. Something wrong?" he asked. While he was not one to dig into another's personal business, if someone seemed to be having a bad attitude, he intended to fix it before things got out of hand.
"It's nothing you should concern yourself with." she snapped, tiling her nose up a bit as she looked away. A few beats of silence pass by before she opened her mouth again. "Except one thing; Your attire."
The others all groaned and facehoofed themselves. Raising an eyebrow, Hutton looked down at his khaki flight jumper, then back to Rarity.
"Rarity, ya' know darn well that it's plain wrong ta judge somepony based on their clothin'." Applejack scolded The fashionista and southern belle exchange looks of silent arguing. Applejack knew she was right, but Rarity tended be quick to judge, even if past events taught her otherwise.
"What's wrong with it?" Hutton asked quietly.
"It's just so...so...bland! " she hissed, turning her full attention to him now. "Honestly, khaki with brown leather? Ugh! Just what type of fashion sense do your people have? I ought to teach them a thing or two about fashion!" she continued.
"Ma'am, you do realize that I serve with the military, right? The uniforms aren't supposed to be fashionable, they're meant to be practical, for everything and anything." Hutton replied flatly.
"I'm sure it serves plenty of purposes, but at least make it appealing to the eye!" she continued, nearly whining now.
"Rarity, it's not his choice on the matter of his uniform. If he's given it to wear, he can't complain. Am I correct?" Twilight asked, looking to Hutton.
"She's right. Flight crews are allowed to personalize their flight jackets, but that's pretty much it. The flight jumpers have to meet regulation standards. It's not fun, but it's expected of us." he said. Rarity, seeming to have heard none of this, pressed her lips together slightly.
"Well, if you are going to be staying in Equestria for a while, I suggest you stop by my shop. I can make a small wardrobe for you, one of which would be more flattering to the eye." she suggested, dropping her judgmental attitude and returning to her prim behavior.
"You do realize I won't have any way of paying you, correct?" Hutton asked flatly again. Rarity wove the statement off.
"Think nothing of it. It will be your welcome package." she said. Looking to the clock, she gasped slightly and hopped out of her seat. "I do apologize, but I must be on my way. I'm afraid I am running late! Mister Hutton, drop by sometime this afternoon!" she called, trotting out of the room as she magically closed the door behind her. Hutton shared a glance with Twilight.
"Well, she's certainly full of herself, isn't she?" he askd. Applejack merely gave a barking laugh.
"That's only tha tip of tha iceberg, sugarcube. She maybe a hoity-toity princess, but she means well. After all, she's well-known fer her fancy garments. Ah'd take her up on that offer if I was you." she said, gesturing to Hutton. Twilight nodded in agreement.
"It wouldn't hurt, Mister Hutton. Later today we can make a stop by her boutique to get you measured up. How does that sound?" she asked. Thinking it over, Hutton nodded, saying that it would be nice to see the rest of the town. "Oh! About your aircraft, I sent word to Canterlot. They're sending a recovery crew down here, and they should be arriving soon. Shall we be off the the site?" asked Twilight.
"Sure, I don't see why not." Hutton said. Looking to the rest of her friends, Twilight walked them out of the castle and said her goodbyes. Pinkie Pie, in her unusual ways, was rambling on about a party of some kind. Twilight seemed to know what Pinkie was talking about, but Hutton dismissed it as simple gibberish. Together, Hutton and Twilight made their way to the wreck of the bomber.
~ooo000ooo~
Twenty minutes had gone by since Twilight and Hutton got to the wreck. In that time, Hutton took it upon himself to recover any personal items that might have survived the crash. He managed to scavenge a few photos and a couple of maps from the radio-navigation desk. Looking at the scorched and torn items, Hutton sighed heavily.
"I wish there was more to find." he said, carefully unfolding the navigation map. The map itself managed to escape the carnage with only a few tears and gashes torn into the laminated paper. The Navigator, Mallory, had their routes planned out. A red line stretched from eastern Britain, ending at a point near Cologne, Germany. Their exit route took them north through the Netherlands, then out over the North Sea, right back to their airfield.
At least, that was the plan. And now he stood here, a stranger in a foreign land, the lone survivor out of eleven lost souls.
The photos were worse for wear. Unlike the map, they weren't laminated. A photo, although heavily scorched and torn, showed the eleven members of Hutton's Holly-Marie grouped together in front of their bomber. They had just celebrated their tenth successful mission. Another showed a beautiful red-headed woman through the bubbled surface. Although the personal message on the back of the photo was barely readable now, Hutton recognized Holly-Marie anywhere. The last was a photo of both Hutton and Morrison, arms draped over each other in joy.
He remembered that night like it was yesterday. It was their Graduation night from bomber training; They had just been cleared to fly. To celebrate, the two friends pulled a pub crawl through the lower region of London with a group of other pilots. The residents paid them no mind, just a few drunk Yanks. One by one, the group of pub going pilots dwindled until it was just Hutton and Morrison.
At one point, they had the bright idea of barging into Company Commander Argonson's office, acting like they held rank above him. Argonson was livid at their behavior. However, given the fact that there exactly wasn't quite an enforceable policy against drunken behavior for GIs stationed in London established yet, the two were essentially left off with a harsh warning.
That night, not only were they cleared to fly, they swore off drinking entirely. Argonson had put the fear of God into them, and the two men never forgot it.
"Friend of yours?" Twilight asked, snapping Hutton out of his memory.
"Yep." was all he said as he slipped the three photos into an inner pocket within his jacket. At that moment, Twilight heard a male voice call for her.
"Princess Twilight?"
Looking around, the two attempted to locate the owner to the voice. Eventually, they spotted an educated looking pegasus stallion soaring low over the trees. He wore thick, European style glasses and an argyle patterned sweater vest. Landing on all fours in front of Twilight and Hutton, the pegasus introduced himself.
"Slipstream, at your service, your Highness. Head of Mechanical Propulsion. I have been sent from Canterlot to assist in the movement of the wreckage." he said sharply. Looking to Hutton, his eyes widen in surprise a bit. "Ah, so this is a human, correct?" he asked, looking back to Twilight. "I studied your notes on your journey through the mirror. The human world sounded quite interesting." he added.
Twilight scowls. "I thought that information was granted to viewing by Celestia only." she said, an eyebrow raised. "And I thought they were sending me an entire team!"
"She permitted me access. Granted she hovered over my shoulder like a hawk, but she permitted me nonetheless." he replied. Twilight's scowl only deepened before Slipstream continued. "And an entire team? Ma'am, I hate to break it, but I am the entire team." Looking back to Hutton, he continued speaking. "Now, I was told that you have something of significant interest to Equestria's aeronautics research?"
Hutton nodded and gestured to the Holly-Marie . Turning around, Slipstream examined the site carefully. "Ah, yes, I spotted this mess on my way down. I do hope there's something I can salvage from all of this." he said, looking back to the human. "Can you provide blueprints and drawings?" he asked.
"I'm no artist, and I'm not particularly mechanically inclined, but I can give it a shot." he admitted. Slipstream nodded yet again. He signaled for the two to follow him to the wreck. "Something that might be of interest would be the engine. This aircraft was powered by four of them." Hutton said, gesturing to one of the intact engines on the right wing. Immediately, Slipstream made a beeline for the object and began examining it closely.
"So, what do you mean that you're the entire team?" Twilight asked, watching Slipstream conduct his investigation.
"Well, after society deemed it unnecessary to invest in newer forms of flight, Celestia cut down on the program. Eventually, she whittled my team of one-hundred to just me. All I have for an office and research space is essentially a broom closet. Honestly, I don't know why Celestia allows me to stay in the castle at this point. If I can't conduct my research and contribute to society, why keep me around?" he ranted, looking into the exposed radial pistons of the engine. "This is just fascinating. Tell me, how does this engine generate power?" he asked towards Hutton.
"It's powered by internal combustion and fueled by aircraft-grade gasoline. Nine cylinders puts out roughly twelve-hundred horsepower for each engine. This thing can clock in at nearly three-hundred miles per hour." Hutton ranted off. Slipstream started working into a fervor now, examining every single inch of the wreckage, moving over the engine to the battered wing structure. Twilight and Hutton simply allowed him to go about his business, watching as he moved in and out of the bomber fuselage, asking random questions to Hutton here and there.
After some time, Slipstream finished his initial look-over. Excitement rattled the stallion throughout his whole body. Eagerly, he asked Twilight for some help in moving the wreckage to Canterlot for further research. With a simple spark of her horn, Hutton watches as his bomber vanished from sight, leaving nothing but the scorched earth where she once sat. Slipstream thanked the two of them and took off for Canterlot, cheering the whole way. Hutton was glad his baby girl was going to be put to some good use, rather than watch her rust in a field. Yet, he couldn't help but feel that he just lost another crew member, possibly for good.
Tapping Hutton's forearm, Twilight mentioned that the two of them should head over to Rarity's shop to get him measured.
"Are we going to teleport again?" Hutton asked, hoping the answer was no. Twilight shook her head with a smile.
"No, not this time. It's just a short walk across town to the Boutique. Besides, it's a lovely day out. Why don't I expose you to the local scene?" she suggested.
"No one else is going to freak out, are they?" he asked, worried that a scene will explode the moment a civilian sees him.
"The few I've introduced you too haven't freaked out, have they? Just a bit shocked is all. You'll be fine, Mister Hutton." Twilight said, waving a hoof dismissively. "Besides, other ponies are used to seeing me with strange creatures. They just stare for a moment and go about their business."
Still unsure of this, Hutton reluctantly agrees to taking a walk through town.
~ooo000ooo~
So far, nothing crazy had happened. During their walk, Twilight talked Hutton through significant sites within the town, both of historic and personal significance. Stopping by Hot Fudge's Parlor, Hutton was exposed to Equestrian ice cream. A soy-milk based ice cream, it packed plenty of organic flavor with the help of natural vanilla and almonds. It was here that he told Twilight about how he and Holly-Marie had met.
"It was the big game night at the high school. Our team had finally won their first championship after a nearly fifteen-year losing streak. Everyone, and I mean everyone, was down at Ma's Home Diner. Kids were dancing, others were chatting, most were eating the home style food cooked up by Ma Dawson herself. I was standing by the jukebox trying to find a song to play, and that's when she hit me."
Twilight laughed for a moment, but stopped when she realized Hutton was serious.
"Wait, she hit you?"
"Yep. Square in the back of my head. Holly-Marie was a new waitress hire at the Diner and was serving tables. In her attempt at navigating the packed walking space, her serving tray clocked me right on the back of my head. I thought it was some wise guy looking to pick a fight, but instead, it was this beautiful red head with bright green eyes. From that moment, I was in love."
Twilight gave a long "D'awww!" at Hutton's sweetness. The man simply chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. Finishing their ice cream and leaving the ice cream parlor, the two continued to make their way through town towards the boutique. More and more ponies greeted the two, paying no mind to the fact that a strange creature was in the company of Princess Twilight.
"I guess you were right, folks around here are used to things that are out of the ordinary." he admitted at one point.
Then, there was Lyra Heartstrings.
~ooo000ooo~
Hutton and Twilight had just entered the south side of Ponyville. The two could see Carousel Boutique off in the distance, sitting on just the fringes of the town. As the two conversed between themselves, Hutton was convinced that he felt a pair of eyes on him. The feeling had been nagging at him for the past few minutes, and it eventually forced him to stop and look around the area.
"Is something wrong?" Twilight asked.
"Do you feel like we're being watched?" Hutton muttered. The rising paranoia caused his mind to fall back into his basic training instincts. His eyes scanned the bushes and windows, looking for anyone who might be peaking down at them. Twilight began looking around as well, having caught the feeling Hutton mentioned. Her ears folded back as she looked, uncertainty etching across her features.
Then a sound could be heard.
It started out low, the started to grow. It almost sounded like an excited giggling of some kind. The boarder line crazed giggling grew so loud, that Hutton didn't realize that the sound was coming from behind him.
"You. Do. Exist!"
Both Hutton and Twilight jumped with a yelp. Turning on his heel, Hutton's instincts kicked in, causing him to throw out a punch into thin air as he spun around. A few seconds later, he realized that there wasn't truly anyone behind him. Well, there was, but they weren't at the height of a person, like he had instinctively thought.
Standing at his waist was a mint green unicorn with a silver mane and tail. Her golden hued eyes gazed and examined Hutton's form, causing her already eager smile to stretch further than it normally should.
"You do exist!" she whispered again. Hutton and Twilight exchanged uneasy looks.
"Erm, well, yes he does Lyra." Twilight started, using a tone one would use when dealing with a mental patient.
"I know he exists, he's right here in front of me!" Lyra said, throwing a hoof forward, accidentally knocking it into Hutton's gut. The man gives a simply 'Oof!' as the air was knocked out of him. "I'm saying that humans actually exist!" she added, looking to Twilight. "Now nopony can call me crazy!!" she continued, nearly cackling at this point.
"So...." Twilight started cautiously. "You haven't seen the files...?" she continued, treading lightly.
Immediately, Lyra's focus locked on Twilight. The alicorn shrinks back a bit under Lyra's harsh gaze.
"What. Files?" she whisperd. Time and space seemed to fall apart around the two ponies as they held their gazes. Hutton was certain that there was going to be a fight of some kind. The tension was so thick, he could have cut into it and used it to butter his toast.
"Nothing! Don't worry about it!" Twilight snapped as she held an awkward smile. "Come along Mister Hutton! We must not keep Rarity waiting!" she said, almost as if she was panicking. Twilight planted her forehooves into Hutton's lower back, trying to push Hutton past the boarder line crazed unicorn.
"NO!" Lyra lashed, throwing her forelegs around Hutton's waist now. "I HAVE MUCH TO DISCUSS WITH HIM!!"
"HE. HAS. AN APPOINTMENT. LYRA." Twilight growled, throwing her shoulder into the effort. The two ponies snap and growl at each other like two alley cats fighting over a fish.
"TWILIGHT, TELEPORT!!" Hutton growls, trying his hardest to pry Lyra off his waist. The mare, despite her smaller stature, held on as if she had steel in her bones and muscles. With a grunt of effort, Twilight sparked her horn and the spell flashed.
~ooo000ooo~
Hutton jerked awake.
Sitting upright, he checks himself for injuries. Seeing he was not bleeding or showing signs of broken bones, he got to his feet and brushed off some dust. He looked around, looking for any familiar landmarks he would recognize from town.
Unfortunately, there are none to be found.
Instead of the small town landscape, Hutton found himself on a plateau of some kind. He had woken up closer to the edge of a steep cliff face. From his vantage point, Hutton looked out towards the plains that sat below him. A gust of wind rustled the golden wheat below, causing waves upon waves of billowing crop. These waves seemed to stretch on for miles as the wild blew. From up here, Hutton felt alone, almost as if he was on top of the world.
As the wind blew, he could hear the sounds of shifting metal groaning from behind him.
Turning around to find the source of the sound, Hutton felt his blood run cold as his gaze landed on the origin of the groaning metal.
As it had turned out, he wasn't as alone as he had initially thought.
Author's Note
Damn it Lyra! What did you do!!?
When Lightning Cracks, Thunder Rumbles
Chapter 05: Another's Arrival
Oberst Eugene Zurich was a feared man.
At his approach, his fellow soldiers would often stand aside and salute while averting their gazes, fearful that the Top Ace of Jagdgeschwader 66 would smite them where they stood. To Eugene, this was a form of respect, and he thrived off it. Even officers that held the same rank as him from other Jagdgeschwader groups acted as if he were the Generaloberst of the Luftwaffe.
Their fear-stricken respect wasn't based on unfounded reasons, however. Many times during many missions, Eugene proved he had the skill and the ability to deliver fatal blows to entire bomber formations, often forcing the Allied bomber pilots to panic and make grave mistakes. While he was skilled with a fighter, he was better skilled at psychological warfare. Being the Top Ace of his unit, with a confirmed two-hundred seventy-three kills, Eugene was allowed certain privileges. While he had become a household name within many German families, and becoming a part of Adolf Hitler's personal entourage, Eugene was a man of unorthodox tactics.
With many pilots, their aircraft were painted to regulation camouflage patterns and marking, some opting to paint the nose cones of their aircraft in a black and white swirling pattern. This was meant to draw the focus of American gunners, making them miss their shots. But Eugene? He went the extra mile to screw with Allied pilots and their gunners.
With his standing within the Luftwaffe, and his closeness to the Fuhrer himself, Eugene was usually given the newer models of the Messerschmitt Bf. 109 the moment they rolled off the production line. But he was a man of trickery, and while he adored the Bf. 109 and its' newer iterations, the aircraft was simply too recognizable to the Allies. It was during a stormy afternoon that Eugene had an epiphany; Why not disguise his aircraft?
And so he took it upon himself to do just that. With America's entry into the war in in the later end of 1941, Germany became witness to the newer models of American fighters and bombers. With each encounter, Germany learned how to identify America's unique machinery. There was one aircraft among the American arsenal that closely resembled the current Bf. 109 E, and it was the P-51 Mustang. Currently in its' B model, the two aircraft shared similar features in terms of their designs, namely in their canopy shape and overall wing structure.
The idea came to fruition roughly a week later. On a clear late morning, Eugene climbed into the canopy of his fighter and started the engine. The upper portion of the aircraft was painted to look like the olive-drab Mustangs, complete with false Air Corps markings. The underside however, was painted a harsh yellow, complete with twin Balkenkreuz markings on the wingtips. This was done so that friendly units and anti-air batteries did not shoot him down.
Many had told Eugene to abandon this endeavor, telling him that he would be committing a war crime. Many even threatened to report him to higher officials to have him subject to a court martial. Eugene simply laughed them off, stating "This is war. Those of us who know this must do what it takes to even the odds."
And so he went.
His trickery was a success.
Within days, Eugene was praised for his psychological effects against the enemy. To the Allies, he was a person of interest, third only to Hitler and Hermann Goering.
As his kill count raised, so did his infamy. Eugene was so confident with his own trick, that he even attempted to have an entire squadron devised, one that would fly disguised aircraft to fool and deceive the enemy.
While an unreasonable man, Hitler had heard of Eugene's devious antics, and did not wish to have all of Germany labeled as war criminals, although he knew damn well of the atrocities against the Jewish peoples. The idea was denied almost immediately, and Eugene was dismissed. When he returned to his group, a group of S.S. Officers waited to 'greet' the Ace. The moment he dismounted his aircraft, Eugene was arrested for inhumane war crimes against the Allied air crews. His aircraft was taken and scrapped for spare parts a day after his arrest.
And that's where Eugene spent a span of roughly seven months, awaiting his trial in a solitary cell within a Gestapo prison in Munchen, Germany.
And it was from this prison that Eugene would make a break for freedom.
~ooo000ooo~
Eugene had it on good word from one of the S.S. guards stationed at is cell, that his transfer to Berlin was due to happen in two days. He was going to be taken to a nearby airfield and flown into Berlin. From there, he would have to await his court trial, and if found guilty, his execution.
"Not on my watch."
Eugene had two days to mentally ready himself for his escape. He played out the potential travel process in his head over and over until he could hear it in his sleep. Given his current solitary state, there was nothing to distract him from planning his steps and actions.
And before he knew it, the night had come.
~ooo000ooo~
Eugene was in the middle of a meager meal, a simple bowl of mushy oatmeal and stale bread. Within moments, the lock on his cell door was being keyed and unlocked. Two armed guards stormed in and grabbed him by the arms. Hauling him to his feet, they practically dragged him out of the small cell. Holding out his arms before him, the guards slapped a pair of cuffs around his wrists and hurried him out of the building.
"Step one, be cuffed and led out. As easy as it sounded."
Waiting outside for him, a covered transport truck sat idling. Parked in front of the truck, a Kugelwagen sat, armed with a single heavy machine gun in the back. Behind the truck, an eight wheeled Puma armored car sat, waiting to get underway. The convoy was simple, but it was enough for a quick prisoner transfer.
"Step two, assess convoy strength."
Eugene wouldn't act here. The MG 42 on the back of the Kugelwagen could cut him in half, literally, if he made a break for it. If he didn't go that way, he still had a Puma armed with a short barreled 75 mm cannon to deal with. One shot from that cannon, and Eugene would find himself scattered among the trees.
No, he would be the good prisoner and cooperate for now.
Hopping into the covered truck, Eugene took a seat while the guards entered behind him. As the convoy began to drive away from the small prison, Eugene eyed the guards with their MP 40 machine guns. He also watched as the Puma pulled around the three-vehicle convoy and drive past the truck.
"Step three, await arrival at the airfield."
And so he waited. He even tried to strike up some conversation with the guards, but they weren't going to have any of it. One guard was kind enough to allow Eugene a cigarette and a light. The nicotine would help calm his nerves as he waited for their arrival.
After what seemed like an hour, the convoy finally slowed down. Eugene could hear the truck driver conversing with another soldier, most likely an airfield guard. After a quick confirmation, the truck picked up speed again and drove past the entry gate. Smooth tarmac popped into view as the truck turned towards the aircraft parking area. A couple minutes later, and the truck came to a full stop. Shutting down, the two guards rose from their seats and grabbed Eugene once again. Leaving the truck as one, the three men rounded the vehicle and began approaching an awaiting Ju. 52. Nearby, two Fw. 190 fighters sat with their engines idling and their pilots nearby, waiting for the tri-motor aircraft to take off.
"Step four, get a weapon."
"Erm, this is probably a bad time, but I severally need to use the bathroom. I do not wish to make a scene on the flight." Eugene said. The two guards stopped and gave him deadpanned expressions.
"Are you serious?" asked the one on his left. Eugene nodded eagerly, trying to emphasize his need to go. The left guard looked to the right guard, an eyebrow hiking up. The right guard sighed and rolled his eyes, nodding his head off to the left as a sign for the two to go. Grabbing Eugene, the left guard escorted him to the nearby command building. The right guard, meanwhile, lit a cigarette of his own and leaned against the truck as he waited for the two to get back.
A minute later, and the two men had entered the building. After turning down a few hallways, the two finally found a bathroom for Eugene. The guard pushed him into the bathroom, following him in to make sure Eugene didn't try anything funny.
It only took a second before Eugene sprung into action. Balling up his fists, he suddenly spun and brought them up. Before the guard knew it, he was getting slugged across the face. The guard stumbled back with a cry of pain, hitting the tiled wall before scrambling to regain his balance. Before the guard could raise his weapon, Eugene grabbed him by the collars of his jacket and threw him into the nearby sink.
The guard's face met the ceramic with a dull crack . Like a sack of potatoes, the guard fell to the floor out cold. A small pool of blood began to pool right under his face.
Eugene quickly checked the guard for the key, but with no such luck.
"Damn it, they key must be on the other guard." Eugene muttered to himself. Opting to go for the guard's pistol, he scavenged two spare clips for the side arm before making his way out of the bathroom. The halls were quiet, save for the occasional radio operator making confirmations within the various communication rooms. Tracing his way back to the entrance, Eugene slightly opened the door and peaked out at the tarmac. Nothing had changed since his departure a few minutes ago, save for the fact that the second truck guard was now watching the building.
"Step six, get out of these cuffs."
Eugene made a show of the door suddenly opening and closing, slamming it hard. However, this drew some unwanted attention. Almost immediately, a nearby door opens up and a confused looking Sergeant steps out.
"What is going on-" was all he said before Eugene sent a single shot into the Sergeant's head. The body slumped against the door frame and slid to the floor, trailing blood against the wood.
A voice rings from outside.
"Hey! What's going on in there?" screamed the second truck guard. Eugene had all of a second to improvise.
"H-Help!! The guard tried to kill me!" he screamed. A second later, and the second truck guard opened the door. Before he can take in the scene of the dead Sergeant, Eugene sent another shot into the guard. The bullet struck his thigh, forcing him to cry out in pain. The sudden jolt of pain forced him to let off a rapid stream of bullets from his MP 40 as he fell to the floor. A gasp sounded out behind Eugene. He quickly looked to see a young boy, probably a Private, duck back into the room he occupied before screaming.
"ALARM! ALARM!"
"Step seven, run like hell."
The sounds of rousing troops told Eugene he had moments to act. Planting another shot into the guard, the man falls dead as Eugene scrambled to search the body. Finding the key, he hastily released one cuff before a shot rang out behind him. The bullet slammed the wooden frame of the door that led outside. Rushing to his feet, Eugene ran out of the building.
As he sprinted across the tarmac, the two Fw. 190 pilots scrambled to stop him. One draws his weapon as the other made a bull charge to tackle him. Another pull of the trigger, and the charging pilot fell to the ground, gripping his shoulder in agony. Eugene kept going, making himself a more difficult target to hit.
Behind him, more shots rung out. The airfield troops were now firing at him from the building windows and outside of the building. The cascade of shots hits one of the 190s, sparking a flame within the engine cowling. Seconds later, and the entire fighter becomes a ball of flame as the fire rushes into the fuel tanks. The sudden inferno enveloped the second 190 pilot, forcing him to drop and try to extinguish himself of the flame that ravaged his body. Eugene ran past the screaming, melting man and to the intact fighter.
In that moment, a round found its' mark.
Pain erupted from Eugene's calf, the area immediately numbing entirely. He screamed, stopping for all of a second before throwing himself against the body of the fighter. Climbing onto the wing, Eugene slid himself into the canopy before slamming it shut. With the engine already running, all he had to do was get into the air.
Throwing the throttle open, Eugene gripped the control stick and threw the fighter into a turn. Rounds continued to ping off the body of the fighter as it powered past the burning aircraft. A few rounds embedded themselves into the bulletproof glass, causing a spider web effect on the glass. The fighter shook under its' own power as Eugene hastily maneuvered it onto the runway. Without hesitation, Eugene lowered the flaps into their take-off position as the fighter swerved onto the concrete. With the throttle being pushed a bit more, the 190 started racing down the runway. It took only a matter of seconds for Eugene to get into the air.
"Step eight, get to neutral territory."
In that moment, Oberst Eugene Zurich was now a fugitive from German law; A war criminal, a thief, and a killer.
And oh, how he loved the feeling of it.
However, he only had a second to revel in the feeling.
Bullets sparked off the surface of his aircraft, followed by the heavier impacts of cannon shells hitting his machine. Craning his head back, Eugene spotted a pair of Bf. 109 fighters slotting in behind him, their nose mounted weaponry flashing and sparking as the pilots tried to shoot down the renegade.
Banking hard left, Eugene threw the 190 into a hard turn to lose the pursuers. Harsh g-forces pushed against Eugene's body, threatening to make him black out. Given the 190s smaller build, the 109s over shot the smaller aircraft as they attempted to follow his turn. However, Eugene seemed to have forgotten where he was. Within seconds, he was back over the airfield he just escaped. Only now, the air was alive with search lights and anti-aircraft fire. Flak rattled the 190 as Eugene swerved and maneuvered his way through the fire.
Although Eugene was an expert pilot and an ace, his luck was bound to run out eventually.
A flak shell erupted directly beneath the aircraft. The belly was torn away, leaving a series of gaping holes right beneath Eugene. Shrapnel cut into him, causing more pain to rocket through his body. The shock was enough to make him black out momentarily. Seconds seemed to become hours as time slowed for Eugene as he regained a state of consciousness. His hand seemed to act on its' own volition. He watched as his own hand forced the control stick forward, making the nose of the fighter pitch downward towards the dark forest below.
"Step nine, leave nothing behind."
As the fighter crawled towards the earth, Eugene looked up towards the night sky. For all his faults, for all his twisted tactics and devious schemes, Eugene once dreamed of studying the stars. If he was going to die, then the stars would be the last thing he would see before everything would go black.
However, the one thing he did not expect to see was a series of shooting stars racing across the night sky.
In his dying state, Eugene couldn't help but be in pure awe.
A bright flash suddenly enveloped his world, driving away the blackness that was taking his vision. All he could do was screw his eyes shut to keep the white light out, but even that did nothing to help against the harshness. However, the moment it appeared, the light vanished.
Blinking his eyes clear, Eugene quickly looked about at his surroundings. The forest that was racing towards him was gone, instead replaced by vast expanse of golden wheat. It was no longer night time now, rather it was a bright, sunny day. The sun gleamed off the wheat as the dying fighter limped through the air.
"Where am I...?" he asked himself. His answer came in the form of more sparking bullets on his wing surfaces.
The 109s were still on his tail. Somehow, they managed to be taken to this prairie with him.
Pulling the stick back violently, the struggling 190 arced upwards, missing the 109s by mere inches as the two fighters raced below and past. The engine of the 190 began coughing, telling Eugene he needed to do something before he stalled. Pushing the rudder right, the 190 nosed over and began racing back towards the earth. Pulling up, Eugene saw the twin 109s split, perform mirroring turns, then lined up one behind the other.
They were going for a head on. If one fighter missed his mark, the following fighter would clean up the mess.
"Fine. If I die, I'm taking you both with me!" Eugene screamed. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins, driving his heart into rapid beats. He could feel his pulse in his neck as the distance between the three fighters drew closer. The rear fighter raised a bit behind the first, lining up his nose mounted weaponry for a killing shot.
Eugene smashed the trigger.
Like an orchestra of destruction, two machine guns and four cannons spit hot death at the approaching 109s. In a matter of seconds, Eugene watched as the green and white tracers tore into the lead fighter, peeling back the cowling and wing surfaces like tin foil. A second later and the lead fighter erupted into a fire ball. The Daimler-Benz engine powering the fighter launched into the air, plowing through the rear fighter as it tried to evade the fire ball. Eugene passed by the destruction, watching the tail of the rear fighter be sheered away by the flying engine in milliseconds. As for the rest of the machine, it simply tumbled away.
No movement came from the pilot within, but Eugene could see a splatter of red within the canopy.
He allowed himself a breath.
In that moment, the 190s' engine completely shut off.
Silence enveloped the cockpit, and Eugene began to panic. Looking around in a frantic state, he tried to find a suitable place to land his dead fighter. Roughly five-hundred yards away, a lone plateau sat among the ocean of wheat. Lining the fighter up for its' final approach, Eugene toggled for the landing gear to lower. As the plateau drew closer, he toggled for the flaps to lower into their landing position. The bleeding speed shuddered the fighter, rattling the teeth in Eugene's skull.
Looking at the dashboard, the gear indicator told him that the left and rear wheels had lowered, but there was no sign of life from the right gear.
"Shit."
Eugene did not have time to improvise. With each passing second, he was drastically losing speed, and the plateau was just thirty feet away. Pulling the nose up, he attempted to land the crippled machine. Seconds passed, and the aircraft jumped, telling him he had his wheels made contact. Without warning, the right wing drops and slams into the ground. Sheering away, the machine spins right, breaking off the left landing gear and landing on its' stomach. All Eugene could do was wait for the aircraft to stop, or for it to fly off the plateau.
Shutting his eyes for the second time, he waits the final verdict of his actions.
With a dying screech, the 190 came to its' final resting position, falling into a shallow ditch in the surface of the plateau. With one final jostle, Eugene finally breathed a sigh of relief. As the 190 creaked and groaned, he allowed himself to succumb to the blackness that had started creeping into his vision. The adrenaline was wearing off, bringing with it all the aches and pure pain that waited to assault Eugene.
As his eyes fluttered closed, Eugene Zurich, Ex-Oberst of the Luftwaffe, awaited to be judged before God himself.
Author's Note
Yet another human!? Yep, that's right dear readers.
When Lightning Cracks, Thunder Rumbles
He just would not die, would he?
A tapping stirred Eugene from his deep sleep. His vision was heavily blurred, and everything looked like a smudge of color and abstract shape. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked a few times to try and sharpen his sight. Soon, after a shake of his head, the cockpit he sat in came into sharper focus. The sky above held a swirling palette of purples and oranges, showing that it was late in the afternoon.
The tapping continued, and it sounded from his left.
Looking over, Eugene jumped.
A creature of some kind stared back at him. The head looked like an eagle, with bright blue eyes staring intently at him. The body however, save for the talon like claws in the front, resembled a lions. A pair of powerful looking wings sat curled against the barrel of the lion body.
Eugene recognized this creature, but he couldn't believe it. It was one from his childhood stories of mystical creatures and folk lore. Eugene was staring at a Griffin. It was small, probably a adolescent. The feathers adorning the eagle-like features were light gray with faded pink tips. The fur on the lion body was a white that bordered on gray.
One of the talons tapped against the glass again, and the griffin blinks.
"Hey, you okay in there?" asks the griffin. The voice was distinctly feminine.
Eugene was aware that he was beaten and battered from his escape, but he wasn't sure if he was simply hallucinating the creature. If he wasn't hallucinating, then he hoped that this was some kind of strange purgatory.
"Hello?"
A strange purgatory where mythical creatures existed was preferable to trauma induced hallucinations.
"Uhm..y-yes!" Eugene called back. The griffin seemed to give a sigh of relief, its' beak somehow making a small smile.
"Thank goodness! I was afraid that you were dead!" said the griffin. It casted its' sky blue gaze over the canopy, tracing the spider web like cracks within the glass. "Do you need help getting out?" it asked. Eugene looked over the internal latched of the canopy himself. Disappointment overcame him when he saw that one of the latches was blown to pieces, effectively fusing the canopy to the window frame at a single point. He pushed against the canopy, hoping to make it budge, but it did not give. After bracing himself, Eugene threw his shoulder upward against the glass, but absolute pain racked his body.
"Well, it would seem that I'm not dead..." he mentally growled as he gripped his shoulder. After a minute or so, the pain ebbed away and returned him to a state of half-numbness.
"It would seem that I do need help..." he grunted. The griffin was quick with her actions. Before he knew it, Eugene watched as the griffin jammed the tip of a crowbar into the canopy edge. After bracing herself, the griffin pulls down on the crowbar. The creature demonstrated some impressive strength for something so small. In a matter of seconds, the fused point on the canopy was broken. Eugene immediately slid the canopy back, taking in a few deep breaths as fresh air hit him. The griffin smiled once again, putting her crowbar back into a side satchel that sat draped around her neck.
Eugene gently lifted himself from the cockpit, trying his hardest to not cause another wave of pain. Strain began assaulting his muscles as he shifted his hips over the lip of the cockpit. The griffin stepped back and waited, watching him drape one leg over, followed by the other. A jolt of pain hits his calf, making his face scrunch up in agony.
The griffin cringed a bit as she watched a stream of blood trickle down the side of the fighter.
"That looks pretty bad..." she started. Pulling her satchel around, the griffin began digging into its' contents. "I think I have some gauze in here somewhere..." she continued. Eugene moved his hands towards his bleeding calf, his grip trembling as he applied pressure to the area.
"Hurry..." he urged. "There's a bullet in there..." he added. The griffin looked up with a look of confusion on her face.
"What's a bull-it?" she asked, mispronouncing the word. Eugene shakes his head and signaled for her to keep looking. A moment later, and the griffin produced a medium sized wad of gauze wrap. Another second later, and she pulled out a pair of large tweezers.
"Let me see your wound." she said, stepping towards him. With a grunt, Eugene slid himself onto the dusty ground, hissing through his teeth as pain shot through him again. Putting his bloodied leg out, he pulled up the pants leg and exposed the angry red entry wound.
The griffin stared perplexed.
"I've...I've never seen something like this before..." she said, uncertainty coming over her face. "I'm used to pulling out thorns and splinters..." she admits. Eugene gestured to the wound with a shaking finger.
"In there, about two inches deep, is an object. I need you to pull it out before wrapping up my leg." he said as he looked to her. The griffin continued to look uncertain about the situation. Rolling his eyes, Eugene sighed. "Think of it as a very deep splinter." he added. The griffin scrunched her face as determination rose within her. After adjusting her grip on the tweezers, she set the gauze aside and drew closer to the hole. With her free paw, she steadied Eugene's leg before inserting the tweezers. Eugene threw his head back against the fighter as new pain shot through him.
To her merit, the griffin did not jump at his sudden agony.
Eugene could feel the tweezers parting the split meat within his leg as it drew closer to the bullet. Suddenly, the tweezers met the bullet, slightly pushing it deeper.
"Pull it. PULL IT. " he hissed. The tweezers parted and found a stable grip around the bullet. With growing agony, Eugene felt the bullet leave the passage in his leg, waiting for that feeling of relief. When it finally came, Eugene was quick to grab the gauze and began wrapping his calf. After a few passes and a few layers, the tore the material clear of the wad and secured the tail end of the wrap. Allowing himself a few relieved breaths, Eugene put his back against the fighter and looked at the griffin.
"Eugene Zurich." he said, introducing himself.
"Zoey." said the griffin. She put a taloned paw forward, offering a handshake. Eugene took the offered gesture and gave a single shake.
"Thank you." he said, releasing his grip. Zoey gives a little chirp as she smiles.
"It's no problem, mister! It's a good thing I heard the commotion when I did, otherwise you might have ended up all alone out here." she said as she looked past Eugene, her gaze looking over the wrecked 190. "What is that thing?" she asked, looking back to him she added "And what are you?". Her voice carried heavy curiosity, and her features did not portray any hint of fear either. With the back of his palm, Eugene pats the fuselage behind him.
"This, is called an aircraft." he said, putting his palm to his chest. "And I, am a human being." he added. "I already know what you are." he continued, pointing a finger to Zoey. The griffin looks startled at this statement, gesturing to herself. Eugene nods. "Where I come from, griffins are creatures of myth. But you," he reaches a hand out to pat Zoey. The griffin squawks at the contact, reeling back slightly. "Appear to be the real deal." he finishes. Zoey scowls a bit, readjusting her ruffled feathers with a quick swipe of her paw.
"Well, I would hope that I'm real!" she retorted, her face scrunched up. Eugene chuckles at her demeanor before taking a moment to look at her.
"What brings you out here?" he simply asked. Zoey patted her satchel, a proud smile coming to her beak.
"I'm a scavenger! Yep, I'm sent out here every other month to try and find something with trade value to it. If I do, I fly home and get it cleaned up before passing it off to the merchants. Mom and dad say it's good, hard work, but I get incredibly lonely out here..." she trailed off, tapping the points of her talons together shyly.
"You said you heard the fight?" Eugene asked. Zoey perked up from her thoughts and nods eagerly.
"Yeah! I was taking a nap when heard a loud explosion right over me! Next thing I know, there were these things zooming over me! It was so loud, and it got even louder! I watched you take the other two out, and I was scared! I had never seen anything blow up like that before! Then it got real quiet. I watched you glide over to this plateau. After that, you vanished and I took off to investigate! It took me a while to get up here, the crosswinds up here almost got me. And, well, here we are!" Zoey explained, throwing her arms wide, a large grin on her beak. The grin faltered before dropping entirely. "Now what?" she asked simply.
Eugene pondered the same question; What did he do now? As far as he was concerned, he was far, far from the grip of the Gestapo and the law. For all he knew, he was already considered to be dead, having become a smear within the forest outside of the airfield he escaped. Now, here he sat in a strange land, talking to a griffin.
"Step ten, begin a new."
"You said you came from a village, yes?" he asked. Zoey perked up again, nodding once more.
"Mhmm! It's about a two day flight from here." she said nonchalantly, gesturing off to her left. Then a though hit her. "Wait, you can't fly without that machine, huh?" she asked. Eugene simply nods in confirmation. "Make that three days flight. I'm going to have to carry you, that is, if you're okay with that?" she asked, hoping for him to approve of her idea.
Eugene simply shrugs. "I don't have any other choices, now do I?" he replied. Propping himself against the wrecked fighter, he hisses with pained effort. His body was telling him he had other pieces of shrapnel that needed to be extracted before things got worse. "You don't mind being a mobile nurse, do you?" he asked, trying to catch his breath.
"Why? Do you have more of them bull-its in you?" she asked, looking at him with a worried expression. Eugene shook his head feeling himself over to find the tender and pain riddled areas.
"N-no...just some shrapnel that needs to be extracted..." he hissed, having just found an area that felt peppered by hot metal. "They feel deeper than the bullet was..." he adds. Zoey frowns, looking the man over.
"You are definitely going to need an experienced doctor then. Come on!" she said. In that moment, her wings unfurled and flared. Eugene stared in awe. For a young griffin, her wing span easily rivaled that of the Fw. 190 behind him. Without warning, Zoey grabbed onto Eugene's shoulders, and hauled him off the ground. With a firm flap of her wings, Zoey took off like a shot.
~ooo000ooo~
Eight months later
He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Hutton gazed at the wreck, but his mind wouldn't accept the reality. Here he stood, staring at the wreck of a Fw. 190. Judging by the faded paint and sun bleached metal panels, the fighter had been sitting here for quite some time. He could barely see the faded yellow 9 that adorned the aircraft's flanks.
Hutton's fists began to curl.
His blood began to boil.
Here sat an aircraft that terrorized Hutton and his fellow bombers with each mission. Swarms of these compact bastards of the air would cause terror and wrought so much destruction.
He hated it. He hated the purpose behind it. He hated the idea of its mere existence.
And for a minute, all Hutton did was stare at the wreck hatefully. Before he knew it, his right foot was being drawn back. With a hollow clunk , Hutton's foot hits the loose engine cowling with as much force as he would muster. The metal rattled, causing a few rusting bolts to rattle in their spots. Another kick brought about more rattling metal. Then a third kick, and a fourth. Now Hutton was just wailing against the downed machine, throwing everything he had into his actions. The metal groaned in protest with each hit, each impact shaking its' frame looser and looser. He opted to stop kicking and began actually punching the aircraft, his fists leaving small dents in the metal work with each hit.
Within minutes, Hutton's fury drained away, leaving him panting and his foot hurting. His knuckles held a shiny glare, their surfaces a bright red from being nearly broken. As he panted and waited for the pain to recede, the lower engine cowling panel fell to the dusty ground, exposing the rusting lower half of the radial engine within.
He hated this machine.
"Phillip?!" cried a voice. Turning on his heel, Hutton turned in time to see Twilight flying towards him at breakneck speeds. Plowing into his chest, the two collide against the 190. Twilight laughs victoriously as Hutton gasps for air. Pulling back, Twilight sees his struggle and backs off immediately, allowing him his space. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" she pleaded. Hutton waves a hand dismissively as he tried to regulate his breathing.
"How did...you..." he began. "Find me...?" he said, taking a few deep breaths to try and get some air into his lungs.
"Well, long story short, it involved a lot of magical shit that is too complex to explain right now! I was just so fucking worried that I wouldn't be able to find you! I looked all over Ponyville, Canterlot, Sweet Apple Acres, all over Equestria! I didn't even think to look into the Celestia-damned Griffin lands! Now come on Mister Hutton, we need to get back to Ponyville so I can hunt down that idiot Lyra and shove my horn right where -" Twilight stops her worry-stricken rant of rage. Hutton is laughing now. "What's so funny?" she asks.
"I never thought I would hear you use fowl language. I thought your kind didn't know it existed!" he replied, laughing loudly now. Twilight's cheeks erupt into a blush as she scowls at him. She hadn't realized that she had allowed those kinds of words to filter into her rant. In a moment, she collects herself before speaking.
"Well, unlike humans, we do not use profanity as filler language in our sentences, Mister Hutton. But, yes, we do know of those words." she says, huffing and turning her nose away from him. Hutton continues laughing, the sight of a flustered and angry Twilight bringing him much amusement. While Hutton got his kicks from the situation, Twilight looked past the man and at the wrecked machine behind him. "Phillip..." she starts, looking over the wreck now. "What is that?" she asks, pointing a hoof behind him. Hutton's laughter starts dying away as he looks behind himself, reminded of the hated object behind him. In mere seconds, his mirth was replaced by a solemn graveness. Standing up, he moved away from the 190 and looked down at her.
"Another aircraft." he says simply. Twilight blinks, looking to the 190, then back to him.
'Is it one of yours?" she asks. "You know, from your air force?" she adds. Hutton shakes his head and gestures to the tail of the 190. Twilight follows his finger, spotting a symbol of some kind. She did not recognize it, but its' angled position and sharp lines made her feel uneasy, but she couldn't explain why.
"That there is a symbol of hate where I'm from. My military would not dare use it on their aircraft. If anything, I was helping fight that symbol, to ensure that it did not wave across the lands. Those who follow it are sadistic, mentally disturbed, and blinded by loyalty to those in command." Hutton says, glaring at the symbol. Twilight feels a sense of pride fill her chest as Hutton talked down on the symbol. A thought crossed her mind. Looking away from the wreck, she began to scan the vast expanse of wheat around the plateau. Hutton notices this and begins to gaze as well. "What's up?"
"I'm checking something, hang on." she said, putting up a hoof for silence. Her horn glowed as she moved her head from side to side. "How am I not picking it up...?" she muttered aloud.
"Picking what up?" Hutton asks. With her horn shutting down, Twilight sighs a bit.
"Earlier you asked how I managed to find you. Well, here in Equestria, everything is soaked in an aura of sorts. It comes from the deeply imbued magical properties of the land. Everyone here can access this magic in one form or another. And, just like how the species of this land are unique and vary from one end of the spectrum to the other, their auras are unique and vary in style as well. Since you're the only human in this land, your aura stood out like a lighthouse in the middle of a storm. Your aura isn't tied to the magic of the land, so it stood out above the others." Twilight explains. Hutton raises an eyebrow, taking in the information she just put before him.
"So...you were what, tapping into the mojo of this place to find the other pilot?" he asks. Twilight chuckles and nods a bit.
"In a nutshell, yes. But, nothing is popping up." she says. Hutton gives a bemused scoff.
"Hopefully the Nazi bastard is dead." Hutton muttered. Twilight looks up at him, an eyebrow raised.
"What's a Nat-zee?" she asks simply, mispronouncing the word. Hutton waves away the question, shaking his head in a firm manner.
"That's a mess I don't want to get into, Twilight, trust me on that one." he says. The two fall into silence as they stand there. After a few minutes, Twilight speaks up again.
"Well, I'm just glad you're okay, Phillip." Twilight said, turning to smile at him. "Now, stand still, I will take us home." she said. Stepping into place right next to her, Hutton nods his head. With a spark of her horn and a crack , the two vanish from the dusty plateau, leaving behind the wrecked Fw. 190 and the ocean of golden wheat.
When Lightning Cracks, Thunder Rumbles
"I'm sorry, who wishes to meet me?"
"Princess Celestia! And by extension, her sister Luna and Princess Cadence."
"So I've caught the eye of royalty, eh?"
"Well, considering that I helped Slipstream teleport a strange machine to Canterlot, word was bound to reach Celestia of a new comer to our land. Wipe that look off your face Phillip, I won't be so bad."
"It wouldn't be so bad, if you had told me sooner! "
"That's the exciting part! You never know when a Princess is going to request an audience? Isn't this such an honor?"
Hutton watches dumbstruck as Twilight waltzed into the gathering beyond the twin doors. Within the hall, Hutton can see many ponies dressed in high class attire. The tone of conversation inside is calm and refined, with the occasional bout of laughter. The ponies sipped from fine crystal glasses, savoring the finer wines and champagnes Canterlot had to offer. Twilight only got a few steps into the crowd before looking back at him. She waved a hoof, her face saying it was safe. Straightening his back, Hutton took a breath before stepping inside as well.
Immediately, all conversation stopped.
All eyes were on him.
Elderly mares whispered behind their gloved hooves to their friends. Gentlemanly stallions examined Hutton at a distance. Few paid any mind to the strange creature that just entered. Hutton watched as she climbed a small staircase, approaching a white, regal looking alicorn. She bows to the regal mare, then turns to look at him, waving a hoof for him to approach. Passing through the muttering crowd, Hutton kept his gaze on the regal mare. Before he knew it, he was mere feet away from Princess Celestia.
"And a good evening to you, Mister Hutton." she says warmly. Hutton's instincts kick in, and he gives a crisp salute.
"Ma'am, I am honored to be here." he says kindly. Celestia plays along and returns the salute with a small chuckle.
"While I am flattered by your professionalism, I can assure you, that it is not required here. At ease, Lieutenant." she says. Hutton drops the salute and smiles sheepishly. He and Celestia turned to look at the silent crowd, their gazes all still on him. "My little ponies, this is Lieutenant Phillip Hutton, a visitor to this world. All that I ask is that you welcome him like any other visitor; With warm smiles and friendly conversation. Please, go about your business." Celestia orders. The crowd give a quick applause before falling back into their conversations. Celestia looks to Hutton again. "Please, enjoy the refreshments." she says, gesturing to the food table. With a bow of his head, Hutton steps down and makes his way to the refreshments.
As he walked away, Celestia looks to Twilight. "Your notes on humanity are certainly on point, my student." she says. smiling still. Twilight gives a quick nod, keeping her eye on Hutton as he perused the food before him.
"Will Luna and Cadence be arriving tonight?" she asks.
"I'm afraid Cadence can't make it, she's attending to some business in the Crystal Empire. Luna might be willing to join us, but she's currently indisposed to the Council." Celestia says. "I am expecting some visitors from the Griffin lands, however." she adds. Twilight nods, bows, and departs Celestia's side to talk to Hutton. The human, to his merit, was trying his hardest to not load his plate with everything from the buffet. His eyes boggled at the bright array of desserts, samplers and hor d'Ourves. As Twilight approached him, Hutton was busy munching on a piece of the shrimp cocktail.
"Enjoying ourselves?" Twilight asks, giggling at his grazing. Hutton nods and swallows the shrimp.
"This stuff looks amazing! Tastes amazing too!" he says, turning to Twilight. Thankfully, his plate wasn't entirely loaded, but it held enough for him to eat.
"I'm glad you can appreciate our finer foods, but I believe others would like a jab at the buffet." she says, nodding her head back to an approaching group of mares and stallions. Stepping aside, Hutton and Twilight begin talking between themselves while he munches on his food. A few minutes later, and an elderly stallion approaches the pair. He wears an old fashioned uniform of his own, one that would be akin to the British Red Coats of the Revolutionary War.
"Princess." starts the stallion as he gives a deep bow to her. Twilight kindly returns the gesture before the stallion stands up. "Lieutenant, is it?" he asks, looking to Hutton now. His tone sounded similar to that of a person of British descent. Hutton nods and finishes his bite before speaking.
"Yes, how may I help you?" he asks simply.
"I am Brigadier General Slipshod, Chief Commander of the Equestrian Militia. I simply wanted to have some words with you." Slipshod says. Once again, Hutton salutes to the higher ranked officer.
"Sir," Hutton starts. "What would you like to discuss?" he asks simply. Slipshod simply grins before speaking.
"Why, the military of course! We're both men of the uniform, so we should have something in common, after all!" he says, giving a hearty laugh. Hutton simply chuckles and nods, setting aside his plate. At that moment, Slipshod calls for a nearby mare to approach him. "Lieutenant, I would like you to meet my wife, Amber Rose." Slipshod says, draping a foreleg around the mares' shoulders.
"A pleasure, ma'am." Hutton says, giving a small bow of the head.
"A pleasure as well Lieutenant." Amber replies, giving a prim smile. Twilight simply smiles and steps away from the trio, leaving themselves to their conversation.
"So! What does a Lieutenant like you do in your military?" asks Slipshod. "Your uniform is not one of regular troops." he adds.
"I commanded a crew of eleven other airmen. Together, we all flew and defended our aircraft during missions." Hutton says simply. Slipshod gives an 'Ah!' and nods.
"Ah, a prop-head! Very good! I'm assuming your job was of the dangerous nature?" he asks. Hutton simply nods.
"There's always a form of danger aimed at a bomber crew. But,we managed to do our job for sixteen missions before, well..." Hutton trailed off, gesturing to his surroundings. "Before I got here." he finished.
"I see," starts Slipshod. "And, if you don't mind me asking, where is the rest of your crew?" he asks, looking around the party to see if he was missing any other humans.
Hutton grimaces a bit, but presses on. "Four are buried in a field somewhere outside Ponyville. The rest were lost before I got here." he replies. Slipshod and Amber Rose hold looks of apology.
"Oh, I do apologize for prying into a sensitive topic. Do forgive me, Lieutenant." Slipshod implored. Hutton raises and hand and waves it slightly.
"No, General, it is alright. I've come to terms with my losses. They will simply be a lesson for the future." he says. Slipshod raises his eyebrows and smiles, giving a small chuckle as he exchanged looks with Amber Rose.
"Now that is the making of a true officer. The ability to move on past the pain, and learn from it, shows that nothing will take you down that easily!" he says triumphantly. Hutton breaks into some laughter as he nods his head.
"So, if I may ask, what is it like being the Brigadier General of a peaceful nation?" Hutton asks. "Where I'm from, the entire world is stuck in a war." he adds. Slipshod looks shocked at the notion Hutton just mentioned.
"Your entire world ?" he asks. Hutton simply nods. "My word, that is just dreadful, isn't it?" he adds.
"Oh, you're acting like this is the first time this has happened. No no, this is the second time there's been a world war." Hutton says. "I was a young boy when the first world war happened." he continues.
"An entire world at each other's throat." Slipshod says, shaking his head. "I cannot picture something of that magnitude happening here in Equestria. Sure, many of the nations here have their disagreements, but civil talks and political compromises always work when there's a small butting of heads." he continues. Hutton simply shrugs.
"I don't know what to tell you, General. I guess Humanity is more prone to conflict than you folks here." he says. Slipshod gives a hearty laugh.
"Lieutenant, one does not become a Brigadier General from peace time. Equestria has seen her fair share of smaller conflicts, but barely any blood has been spilled on her lands. Although, I can say that I pray that a global conflict does not take this world. I do hope your home comes out alright." Slipshod says, resting a hoof on Hutton's forearm.
"I appreciate the prayer, sir.' Hutton says simply. For a while Slipshod and Hutton shared their war stories, with Amber Rose asking a few questions of her own. Time seemed to move quickly during their conversation. Soon enough, an entire crowd had formed around the conversing military men, each putting for their own questions to Hutton. The human met a multitude of ponies from the upper echelon. From heads of industry, to the stars of entertainment, they all welcomed him into the fold.
Then, the royal announcer entered the hall, trumpeting a horn. Immediately, Hutton and the crowd of ponies all look to the announcer, waiting on his next words.
"Now presenting, Lord Pontus, Princess Zoey, and their guest, Captain Eugene Zurich!" calls the announcer. Stepping aside, the announcer allowed a pair of Griffins to enter the grand hall. Lord Pontus walked with a stride in his step, a fur cape billowing behind him as he walked. Next to him, Princess Zoey walked primly, her sash glinting in the light as the emeralds embedded within the fabrics caught the light.
And behind them, a sharply dressed human male walked with a sense of confidence.
Hutton could not believe his eyes; It was the pilot of the wrecked 190 he had found on that plateau.
Everyone watched as the trio approach Princess Celestia. The pair of griffins bow to the Princess, then step aside to introduce Eugene. From his point of view, Hutton can see an expression of surprise on the mares' face. She looked to Hutton, shock in her eyes. Without hesitation, Eugene turned to follow her gaze.
Within a second, Hutton and Eugene locked gazes. Surprise came from Eugene, the fact that an American pilot was standing a couple feet away.
Hatred burned from Hutton's gaze. He knew of this man. A sworn enemy of the Allied Air Forces stood feet from him, surprised to see that he was there. A war criminal stood before him, free of his imprisonment and free of the consequences that were to fall upon him.
Before he knew it, Hutton was face to face with Eugene. The German held out a hand, a bemused smile on his lips.
"Lieutenant, is it?" asks Eugene. His accent burned against Hutton's ears. To Hutton, the Germans always sounded like they were talking down with a condescending tone, and it aggravated him beyond belief. "Oberst Eugene Zurich." he continued, keeping his hand outstretched.
Hutton looked down at the offered hand like it was something that was diseased.
Did this bastard honestly think that Hutton was going to shake his hand? It was because of this bastard, that Hutton lost friends and brothers in arms. His sick, demented tactics of blending in with fighter escorts and shooting them in the back was rage inducing.
A fire sparked within Hutton's heart. It quickly grew into a raging inferno.
The enemy was standing before him. A wanted war criminal was tainting the land he walked.
A mad man was walking free.
And before he could stop himself, Hutton saw his fist impact the German square in the face.
"Fuckin' Kraut!" Hutton explodes. Eugene staggers back, blood gushing from his broken nose. The inferno within Hutton's heart became a wildfire. Before he knew it, he was tackling Eugene. The two crashed to the floor, and Hutton gripped Eugene's collar to hold him in place as he continued to slug the German.
"This is for those pilots you killed!" he roars. Another impact of his fist filled the air.
"This is for the friends that you slaughtered!" Another crack fills the air. As Hutton reared back another fist, another crack fills the air. He feels something impact his chest, and before he knew it, darkness envelopes Hutton.
~ooo000ooo~
Hutton jerks awake. Blinking, he finds himself in a bland room, seated at a lone table. Cuffs are chained around his wrist, locked to the table top. The wall before him holds a particular shine, most likely a one-way window. He was no stranger to this type of room, he once found himself in this kind of situation at one point in his early teen years. Looking around, he gives a sigh.
"Alright, when's the good cop-bad cop routine going to begin?" he asks.
At that moment, a door to his right clicks open and swings towards him. From the hallway, Princess Celestia and Twilight both enter the room, both carrying looks of stern disappointment on their faces. Closing the door behind them, the two mares stand and look at Hutton.
"Care to explain what that was out there?" Twilight snaps. Celestia raises a hoof to calm her, and Twilight backs off, but she continues holding a harsh glare.
"Please, Lieutenant, we wish to know what caused you to assault that man." Celestia said, her mannerisms more calm and attentive.
"Where should I begin? The fact that he's part of the enemy, or the fact that he's a war criminal?" Hutton asks. Celestia and Twilight exchange glances before Twilight starts again.
"You mean, he's a part of the war back where you're from?" she asks. Hutton scoffs and rolls his eyes.
"He's just one of millions." he says. Celestia frowns a bit.
"So, you attacked him simply on instinct? Because he's a foe?" she asks. Hutton shakes his head.
"No, I attacked that fucker because he's a God damn war criminal!" he says, looking to Twilight. "You remember how I'm a bomber pilot, yeah? Well, when I get sent out, so does he. It's his job to try and stop me and my friends from doing our mission. In the case of Mister Zurich, he's a sneak and a trickster. He deliberately painted his aircraft to make it look like one of our aircraft. He would sneak into our formations, then start shooting them us in the back. Zurich ran across my formation once, and I barely made it out alive. He's a bastard and needs to be put down like a mutt!" Hutton screams. "He has a kill count higher than the years you've been alive, Princess!" he adds. "He's a simple murderer. An animal!"
Celestia raises her hoof again. She had heard enough.
"Mister Hutton, while we somewhat understand the circumstances surrounding you and Mister Zurich, you two are by all means, in neutral territory. We have no part of your conflict, and all that I ask is that you do not bring it here. Do we have an understanding, Lieutenant?" Celestia asks firmly. Hutton remains quiet for a few minutes, glaring off to the side of the room.
"He's no where around, is he?" Hutton asks. Twilight and Celestia exchange glances again. Looking to the one-way window, Celestia nods her head. A moment later, and Zurich enters the room. His face is bruised, but his nose looks fixed, giving it a distinct skew to it now.
"We request that you two talk things out." Twilight says simply. Hutton stares at the mare in disbelief. As Zurich takes a seat before Hutton, Twilight and Celestia depart without another word. A moment later, and the door closes again, leaving the two men to themselves.
"Lieutenant." Eugene starts.
"Shove it, Kraut. I don't want to hear it." Hutton snaps.
"Nein, this must be said." Eugene counters, his face stern. "For nearly a year, I have lived in this land, thinking I was the only one of my kind. The griffins were kind enough to take me in, heal my wounds, and allow me to live among their kind. They welcomed me, despite our clear differences. And yet here, at this formal gathering, I encounter another human. I was relieved to see you, Lieutenant. Finally, someone I can truly relate to." Eugene says, vaguely gesturing to the bruising on his face. "And yet, you assault me. Not only am I hurt by this, but I am appalled by it. For nearly a year, I had forgotten that I escaped a terrible war. It would seem that you have not, Lieutenant." Eugene finishes.
Hutton simply glares at the German. Eugene sighs.
"Lieutenant, erm, Hutton, is it? Can you please forget the fact that we were once enemies? You and I, we both escaped the bloodshed. We can start a new here." Eugene says, holding a hand forward. Hutton glares at the gesture again. He still held rage for Eugene, but his reasoning was starting to falter.
"We had our orders, Mister Hutton. We've both done things we're not proud of." Eugene adds.
"Why should I believe a lying psychopath like you?" Hutton growls. "Someone who fools the enemy and blends in, only to shoot them in the back is not only crazy, but a coward and a sleaze. You single-handedly ended the lives of nearly three-hundred young boys! You even almost killed me at one point! How can I forgive and forget, when the cause for my hatred is sitting right in front of me?!" Hutton roars. Eugene does not flinch.
"We were at war. Your bomber formations were nigh impenetrable. How else was I to make a dent? I'm simply begging you to forget our bloody past! Why must all you Americans be so bull-headed with reason?" Eugene prods.
"And why must all you Krauts be warmongering madmen who employ crude tactics?" Hutton snaps back. "Your people are responsible for two world wars! TWO OF THEM!! When will you jackasses learn your lessons?!" he hisses. Eugene slams a fist on the table now, making it jump as he leans towards Hutton.
"Do not blame me for the wars. That madman Hitler is dragging us all through the muck he's been creating. I wasn't even alive when the first war happened, so do not put that blame on me and my generation. It was the fools of old who nearly destroyed the world the first time around, not the minds of the youth." Eugene seethes.
The two men simply glare at each other. Eugene rests back in his seat and holds a hand to his face. Hutton simply rages, but opts to keep quiet.
"History is repeated by those who do not learn from it, correct Lieutenant?" Eugene asks. Hutton blinks. Those words ring through his mind, except they are being said by Doctor Scalpel. The memory of the hospital grotto flashes through his mind as the Scalpel's words echo again.
"Those who do not learn from their past, are doomed to repeat it."
"And if we are to become better people, we must forgive the mistakes made in the past..." Hutton mutters. Eugene looks from between his hand towards the bomber pilot. Hutton's shoulders sag as all of his rage and anger suddenly evaporates from his being. Holding out a cuffed hand, he offers Eugene a handshake.
"Lieutenant Phillip Hutton, United States Army Corps." he says. Eugene looks at the offered gesture, then accepts it with a small smile.
"Eugene Zurich, ex-Oberst of the Luftwaffe." he replies. Hutton raises an eyebrow.
"Ex? What happened?" he asks.
"Simply put, I escaped German law. Even killed a couple of soldiers during my escape." he adds, as if that tidbit of knowledge was to convince Hutton that Eugene wasn't who Hutton thought. Hutton raises an impressed eyebrow.
"Gives us less to worry about, then." he says, trying to make a joke. Eugene gives a bemused scoff before looking at the one-way window.
"I believe we've become friends." he says. Hutton gives a bemused chuckle of his own, shaking his head a bit.
"Don't count your chickens, there Eugene. We've only forgiven each other for the war. I still don't quite like your face. I think it needs to go another round." he says, raising his fists slightly. Eugene gives a barking laugh.
"Bah, American humor. Maybe in the ring this time, eh Lieutenant?" Eugene jokes. From behind the window, Celestia and Twilight exchange glances, uncertainty written on their faces.
"Do you truly think they will be able to leave the past behind them?" Twilight asks worriedly. Celestia closes her eyes and gives herself a moment to think.
"I can only hope that they do. I truly do not wish for them to hold anymore conflict between themselves. Our subjects are easy to subjugation, Twilight. If they continue to hold this hatred, then it would only be a matter of time before Equestria is split between their differing ideals. I do wish for you to keep an eye on them, however." Celestia says. Twilight looks slightly confused.
"I'm sorry?" she asks simply.
"I'm going to personally ask Lord Pontus and Princess Zoey if they are willing to help Mister Zurich move to Ponyville. Maybe, just maybe, their closer proximity will help Mister Hutton and Mister Zurich understand each other. Who knows, they might even become friends." Celestia says, putting a hopeful smile on her lips. Twilight continues to hold her uncertain expression, looking back into the room beyond them.
"I can only hope you're right, Princess. I'm still worried, however." she says. Celestia simply nods in understanding.
"I am too, Twilight, I am too." she says. Without another word, Celestia and Twilight leave the confines of the observation room and enter the adjacent room. Releasing Hutton from his cuffs, they escort the two humans out of the dungeon that sits beneath Canterlot Castle. Within minutes, Hutton is stood before the gathering of elitist ponies, apologizing for potentially ruining their evening with his outburst. Few accepted his apology, including Slipshod and his wife, but more ignored his words. Seeing he barely managed to get to the elitists, Hutton walks with Twilight out of the party and into the castle garden.
With a crack of her horn, Twilight and Hutton teleport back to Ponyville.
When Lightning Cracks, Thunder Rumbles
Prologue: Setting the Stage
The year is 1942.
For the past four years, the world has been at each others' throat for the second time in Human history. In Europe, Nazi Germany slowly closes its' fist around the continent, and now it looks to the island of Great Britain as the next stepping stone in Hitler's plan for world domination. In the east, the Red Army is holding fast against a German onslaught. Meanwhile in the Pacific, America retaliates to Japan's surprise attack of Pearl Harbor, taking back the Pacific island by island while they ready their troops to invade Africa with the help of British and Canadian troops.
For the time being, no one quite knows when this terrible war will end. So many have already fallen into the never ending meat grinder of war. Multiple countries lay in ruin in the wake of Germany's push across the European continent. In response to the Battle of Britain two years prior, British Command has launched a daring plan to bomb vital targets within Germany. Thanks to America's entry to the war at the end of 1941, British Command now has the ability to make this plan come to fruition.
At this point, Allied Command has launched several thousand bombing operations against the Third Reich, dealing crippling blows to vital industrial centers, factories, and unfortunately entire cities.
And while the world tears each other apart, no one allows their minds to day dream. Oh sure, many recollect what life was like before the war, but no one dares imagine what the future will hold. For the time being, the future is too grim to even think about.
However, in a far off land, War is simply a fleeting memory. The word no longer applies to the daily vocabulary for the inhabitants of this land. In this world, every day is bright, and everypony has a smile on their face. Here, friendship is a powerful force, powerful enough to drive back any rising darkness that dares threaten this peaceful world. For many, the word 'War' is all but forgotten.
So what happens when a stranger visits this land? A stranger, unlike the inhabitants of this happy world, is no stranger to the idea of war. Will this stranger bring the fires of destruction on their heels? Or will they have the strength to leave the pain behind, and allow themselves to look forward to a brighter future?
Captain Suicide Presents:
When Lightning Cracks, Thunder Rumbles
A lost pilot's experience in Equestria
