(A2) - Chapter 3: Reassurance

No Glory Won

Chapter 3: Reassurance

“No, I’m not defending Changeling Technological Superiority, I’m stating the fucking obvious!”

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It never occurred to me back then, during the storm over mead lake, how incompetent I was at dressing wounds. I figured I did good enough by bandaging it and keeping it clotted. I even cleaned it with alcohol. But it wasn’t enough; the pain was more intense on my left side than ever. Even now, as I was sitting on one of the cots in the ER, I’m still cursing myself for attempting to do something I didn’t even have a cutie mark for: Medicine. Still, if I didn’t do anything, I might’ve been worse off. Maybe even dead.

I was fortunate enough to have other ponies who did know medicine, however. One of the onboard Doctors of the Blueblood, who I remembered going by “Scalpel”, was kind enough to offer to take a look at the bandaged bullet wound. I gladly accepted it, and I made my way to the ER, my team following behind from the control tower.

They sat together in the space next to the cot, while I sat atop it. Scalpel was starting to unwrap the bandages, making me wince in pain with any slight contact near the base of the wound. When he unwrapped it, I was greeted to an ugly sight. The wound I had thought I cleaned was not clean at all. Red streaks were tracing along the hole, with puss coming out. It looked horrid, making my gut churn at the sight of such a nasty injury.

“Did you even try to clean it when you bandaged yourself?” Scalpel asked with a disgruntled tone.

“Yeah… emphasis on tried.” I replied.

Scalpel sighed, as he pulled out (Ironically enough) a scalpel. “There’s no exit wound, meaning the bullet is still lodged in there. And it’s infected. I need to Debride it, so I can clean it and pull the bullet out.”

“Debride? What does that mean?” I looked over at Lucky, Naya, and Bigs, while they were staring at the wound with mixed reactions. Some of Bewilderment, and some of Empathy.

“It means I have to cut it open, so I can clean the wound more thoroughly. When you tried to clean it, you didn’t do a very good job. It’ll also make it easier for me to pull the bullet out.”

“... I’m guessing that’s not going to feel particularly pleasant, is it?”

“Nope, probably the worst pain you’ve ever felt in your entire life.” He spoke dryly. “Luckily, I have some morphine, but I can’t give you very much of it. We’re running on rations as far as medical supplies go. In the meantime,” He walked towards one of the drawers and pulled out a rugged looking stick. It had a piece of leather fastened around the middle of it, and was riddled with bite marks, scratches, and other sorts of damage. He held the stick with his telekinetic grasp a few inches in front of my face. “Bite.” he concluded.

I laid belly first on the cot, my mouth biting down the stick as he started to apply the morphine on my left forehoof. I felt a little prick of pain, but nothing I couldn’t handle. The worst was yet to come. When he levitated the Scalpel, my grip on the stick increased tenfold.

I didn’t exactly know what to expect; I expected pain, obviously, but the kind of pain I thought would occur would be like peeling live skin off, which sounded terrible. But what it really felt like was a lot worse. First, he probed the wound with a small rod, tracing it along the outer edges of the bullet hole. It sent streaks of singeing pain along my left side, as I bit down harder on the stick. A groan escaped me, as he inspected it.

“Bigs; hold her down.” Scalpel ordered. He looked at me, waiting for an answer. I nodded, and he proceeded to stand on his hind legs, and place both his front hooves down on my back. Immense pressure was now holding me in place… he was strong.

“Sorry about this.” Bigs spoke. I could only moan on the stick as a reply.

Scalpel then started to poke the rod inside the bullet hole, making the already intense pain even more agonizing. I heard a shrill, high pitch moan, only to find out it was me making those noises. I reflexively tried to recoil away, but Bigs wasn’t letting me go anywhere. Sweet Celestia, was he strong. I felt warm trickles of blood seep down my coat. Or was it puss? Maybe both? I didn’t care at the time. I was too busy crying in pain.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of pain, he stopped prodding the wound and began to cut bits and pieces of my flesh away with his scalpel, which made me flat out scream if I could. With the stick in my mouth though, it sounded like a pig was being slaughtered. The pain was unbearable, and tears flowed freely from my eyes. I was hoping I would pass out, but I wasn’t so lucky. I was still wide awake, and the morphine wasn’t kicking in yet.

When all was said and done though, he threw the bits of my coat and flesh into a metal bucket, along with some blood. The sight of seeing parts of me being tossed like that made me bilious. “Almost done.” he stated. I groaned in response. I saw out of the corner of my tunneled vision pull out some tweezers. I wasn’t finished suffering yet, it seemed.

He then proceeded to lodge the tweezers inside the already ruined bullet wound, in the hopes of pulling the bullet out. I screamed again, thrashing around wildly trying to break free of Bigs’ ridiculously firm grip, but to no avail. He wasn’t letting me go anywhere. Through all of the torturous pain, I felt another object inside the hole being moved around, which sent me into a panic. All I could think was “GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!” as I laid there restrained by Bigs’ unrelenting strength. More agonizing pain ensued until I heard a sickly ‘squelch’ noise emit to my left.

“Got it!” Scalpel announced. The pain was still there, but he wasn’t picking in the hole, at least. “7.62 Millimeter. Standard ammunition.” I saw the bullet he was holding, which looked nothing like a bullet and instead looked like a deformed metallic star. That was inside me?

“Do I need to keep holding her?” Bigs asked.

“Just for a little while longer. I need to clean the wound.” He levitated a strange looking bottle and a white piece of cloth. After dabbing the liquid onto the cloth, he proceeded to wipe around the wound, sending more pain up my left side. Then he dabbed it again and cleaned inside the wound, which made me thrash out and scream again. Why wasn’t the Morphine working already!?

Finally, after he finished cleaning the hole, he announced, “Ok, you can let go now.” and Bigs finally let go. I still clenched on the stick, which now had a new set of teeth marks to add to its collection of damage. After I sat up from laying down on the cot, Scalpel proceeded to wrap a long white bandage around my torso. I got a good glimpse of the former bullet wound, which looked more ugly than before.

“You’re lucky you got to me today just in time. Any longer, and I don’t think you would’ve survived.” Scalpel noted as he proceeded to tie the bandage together, after wrapping it several times around my chest. I felt an eerie sense of relief wash over me at the fact that he might’ve very well saved my life. Still, I didn’t feel lucky.

“Will she be okay?” Naya spoke for the first time since I landed, still sounding timid as she did on the radio.

“She’ll be fine in two weeks or so. Normally, if I was a practiced surgeon, I would use healing magic, but I never practiced nor studied it. So I made do with what I had.” He pulled out a yellow-orangish looking capsule from a drawer, filled with tiny white tablets inside. “Take these once a day for one week, then come see me. We’ll see how you’re holding up by then. In the meantime, no strenuous activity. That means no flying, and no physically challenging work and no more getting shot.” he instructed dryly.

“Ugh.” I replied groggily. Now the morphine was kicking in. A fat lot of good that does now.

“Ah, she’ll be fine. If she could survive the last three days with a wound like that, she can handle anything!” Lucky commented.

Scalpel levitated the stick out of my mouth and placed on the counter for later. The overwhelming amount of suffering I had just endured left me weak on my legs when I attempted to stand up off the cot. I nearly fell to the floor, before Naya and Lucky caught my fall.

“Eugh - I need a proper bed, stat.” I muttered weakly. I was sapped of all energy as I had just woke up with only 3 hours of sleep. Which to be fair, I didn’t really sleep that well for the past two to three days.

“Can you make it there on your own?” Lucky asked.

“I think.” I waved my hoof, signaling them to let go of me. I stood on all four hooves, and tried to trot forward… tried. I fell flat on my face after about 3 steps forward. Groaning, I muttered “Nope. Cannot.”

“Alright, let’s get you to your bed.” Lucky suggested. Best idea he’s given all day. I felt a pang of guilt well up in my gut, having my team drag my might-as-well-be lifeless body across the lower decks of the ship. I didn’t think I deserved it, but they insisted on it when I asked them about. And besides, there was positively no way I could make it to my room on my own.

When we arrived in my assigned room, Lucky, Naya, and Bigs helped me to my cot. I winced in pain as they laid me across the bed. The morphine was in effect, but my left side still hurt like hell. I probably didn’t smell pleasant either, which made me feel even more guilty about my team dragging me around the ship.

“You ok now, boss?” Lucky asked apprehensively.

“I’ll be fine… just still hurts.” My eyelids felt extremely heavy. It took, quite literally, all of my energy to suppress a yawn.

“Do you need water or some food? Or anything?”

“Sleep. I want to sleep. Please.” I spoke slowly. They seemed more worried than they did before. Except for Bigs, who looked as stoic as ever.

“Sure, sleep is probably what you need anyway. We’ll either be in the Cafeteria or our rooms if you need us.” And with that, Lucky and Bigs trotted out of the room casually… maybe a little too casually. Naya just stood still, stared at my wound with hurtful eyes. Before I could ask what was wrong though, she left the room as well, with a quick pace. I decided I’ll ask later. What was wrong with Naya anyway? I turned my body, facing the blank wall and setting my head on atop the pillow. Almost in an instant, sleep took hold of me.

My dream was more of a nightmare and a memory into one

I was back in the airplane, over Pegasi Gulf. I am behind a bomber, giving chase and trying to shoot it down. The gunners fire back at me, striking my wings and hull. My plane begins to falter, and my propeller stopped spinning. Soon, I descended downward. I was going down.

I tried to open the Canopy, to eject, but the lever was stuck. No matter how much I attempted to force it open, it wouldn’t budge. I opened my mouth as if to scream, but no noise came out. The endless flat plane of water was rapidly getting closer to me. I watched in horror as I quickly accelerated down to my fate: certain death.

I woke with a start, drenched in cold sweat. My side felt itchy, unbearably so given that I couldn’t scratch it well enough beneath the bandages. The ship was softly tilting to one side, then to the other, almost barely noticeable. I turned my head behind me, away from the wall, noticing nopony else but me.

I struggled to fall asleep for the rest of the day; mainly due to my side itching unbearably. I decided it was a lost cause, and sat up. My head bumped into the bottom of Naya’s bunk, making me wince loudly as I clutched my head. I had no idea what time it was, but I figured it was still daytime.

I stood on my hooves, a little shakily at first, then proceeded to make my way towards the ER, in the hopes of finding Scalpel. I wanted so badly to stop this itching, but I figured that was normal in the healing process of a gunshot wound. Still, maybe some kind of ointment or magic of some kind… I didn’t want to get my hopes up for nothing. Still, there had to be something I could do.

When I arrived, after navigating my way through the monotone, blank halls of the Blueblood, I found Scalpel standing by himself sorting his various tools. There were other ponies in here, this time, all of which didn’t seem to be in too much pain, as they laid on their cots. Scalpel seemed pretty invested in his task, that he didn’t even hear me trotting in.

“Slow day, I hope?” I asked making Scalpel slightly jump, turning his head around.

“Didn’t your mother ever told you not to sneak up on others?” He asked with a sense of annoyance.

“I don’t really remember much of my mother, being raised by my dad only for most of my life, so no. Probably not.”

“Oh…” he replied, more softly this time though. “My condolences.”

“It’s fine.” I never knew who my mother was as a pony, so I’ve never gotten the chance to woe about it. I guess that was fine, though I probably will never see her. “Anyways, I need help.” Scalpel sighed.

“Please tell me you didn’t fidget with the bandages, and the wound opened up again. Did it?”

“No, it’s fine… I think. It just itches terribly. Can’t sleep with it.”

“That’s normal. It means the healing has begun and is progressing just fine. The itch is merely a side effect, nothing I can do about it besides telling you not to aggravate it.”

Well, that was a bust. I trotted closer toward him. “There must be something you or I can do. Is there?”

When I was no more than ten feet away from him, his face shifted to an expression of absolute disgust, and he recoiled backward. “Well, for one, you can definitely take a shower. When was the last time you bathed?”

“Do you mean when was the last time I got wet? Because that was over Mead Lake.”

“You know what I mean, Night Light. Proper bathing will definitely help you heal, and maybe relieve the itching.”

I stopped and sniffed myself. I did stink pretty bad, though I had no idea how bad to others. “Right. Will I need to take off the bandage?”

“I recommend not, at least for now. I just debrided it, so washing it with soap and water, no matter how beneficial, would probably hurt terribly.”

“Yeah, well so does cutting it open with a scalpel.” I spoke wittily.

“Well if it wasn’t for that, you’d be dead.” he replied blankly. “So take that however you will.”

“Right. To the showers, I go then.” I turned to leave the ER.

“Wait, before you leave,” Scalpel interrupted “I… uh, Naya, she… came in earlier while you were out. Normally I’d keep my patient's concerns private, but she knows you, so…” He paused for a while as if he was deciding very carefully what correct words to say. “She asked about your condition, rather nervously actually, and wondered if there was a chance you might die. I told her ‘no’, but she didn’t seem convinced.” He paused again. “I think something’s wrong with her, Night Light.”

“Is she hurt? What’s wrong with her?”

“No, she’s fine. Physically, she’s normal, but that doesn’t mean that her mind and emotions are acting… ‘right’. She seemed rather distressed when we spoke. Whatever it is, I’d talk to her if I were you.”

So, I wasn’t the only one who noticed something was wrong with her. That does it, I’d have to talk to her, and soon.

“I will, thank you.”

“Take care of yourself.”

I was granted the mercy of not having anypony else in the showers with me. I was by myself, it seemed. I took that as a good sign and proceeded to the first stall I could find. The showers were separated into these ‘Stalls’ that ponies would stand in while the water was running. There were about 8 in total, four on each side. There were walls on the sides of the stall, granting privacy (only by a little) to the pony in the next stall. There was a curtain as well that covered the entrance of the stall, so it was somewhat private. But in the military, privacy is a forgotten luxury.

Except for today, it seemed. I closed the curtain behind me and twisted the knob on the left about a half-turn right, and the right knob a quarter-turn to the right. About 20 seconds later, the water now felt warm and inviting. I inspected myself, noticing my filth. Spots of dry mud were clearly visible on my coat, without the flight suit on. My mane felt greasy, thick, and tangly. Overall, I felt, looked, and smelled repulsive. So when I stepped inside the shower, I was greeted with warmth and cleanliness. I even found a bar of soap sitting in the stall, which I didn’t hesitate to use.

After cleaning myself thoroughly for about five to eight minutes, The warm grip of the water constantly beating against my skin and coat made me stay in there for a little longer than usual. Most of the showers I took were not as warm as this. There are usually more ponies in here, using up what little of hot water is left in the reserves. That being said, showers were typically short and bitter, but still refreshing. This time around, I was given a longer time period before the hot water ran out. I used this period to bask in the heat of the water, which left me lingering to my thoughts.

I thought about how the rain felt while I crash landed in Mead Lake. Compared to the shower, it felt cold and bitter. The wound didn’t make it any better. Speaking of, I noticed it wasn’t as painful as it used to be. And while I stood in the shower, it finally stopped itching.

My thoughts than trailed back to Pegasi Gulf, and more haunting images of changelings jumping out of planes, still burning to death. It made me feel woozy. I shook my head violently, sending droplets of water everywhere - not that it mattered, I was by myself anyway - trying to suppress the haunting memories.

I then thought of Sunshine again… which was better and worse. I missed her terribly so, and being in the warm shower reminded me of her embrace. For a short moment, I sat on my haunches and closed my eyes. I focused on the sound of rushing water, and imagined myself in another shower, one that was more secluded and private than the one I was currently in. I thought of my home, in Cloudsdale. I imagined a time, where there was no war, no conflict, no death. Just peace, sunshine, and warmth.

Sunshine. I imagined sunshine in the shower, standing with me. I imagined us holding each other. The warmth of the water made it easier to imagine her warm embrace. I cherished it, every last drop, of this moment. I wanted to stay here forever.

Reality came crashing back down on me, and I found myself staring at another blank monotone wall. Something was welling up inside me, something new. I felt… Angry. Angry at myself, angry at the world, angry at the universe. Angry at everything. I couldn’t help it. I repeatedly punched the wall, yelling as I did just so.

This went on for about a minute or so before I stopped. I stared at my hooves for a long while, until tears flowed freely from my eyes. I collapsed on the stall floor, weeping under the sound of rushing water. Nopony could hear me, but I didn’t care if the whole ship heard me. I wanted to release everything my body could offer, to lay there while I shrivel up and die.

How could this happen? Why did this happen? Why must there be so much turmoil, confusion, spite, and hate in our world now? What happened along the way, that made it into the world we know today? So many questions I wanted answers to, yet found none suitable.

The shower didn’t feel so warm now.

The last few days I spent on the Blueblood, silently suffering while healing up, felt slower than usual. The wound was still itchy underneath the dressing, though not as bad as the first day. I mostly spent my time in bed, either in the ER or in my bunk room. I had to be as un-strenuous as physically possible, as Scalpel said.

On the fifth day of that week, I was called to the ER once more for my checkup, and to see if the wound had healed any better than the last time we saw it. Only Lucky and Bigs followed me down, Naya nowhere to be found. I was starting to worry about her, and wondered why she was acting so diffident.

I sat on my haunches atop the cot, while Scalpel proceeded to slowly unwrap the bandages on my torso. We were greeted to the sight of pink skin and a small hint of dark blue on where my coat was. The wound itself looked ugly, but not as ugly as it was the day I came back. It looked like the skin of a newborn piglet, not at all like my coat. It looked fine to me, though I wasn’t a doctor so I had no idea what the context of ‘fine’ could be.

The hole caused by the bullet seemed to have shrunk over the last few days. It also didn’t look infected either, though I could still see small hints of red streaks near the wound. Still, it could be worse.

“Hm… seems to be healing normally. There’s no puss, at least. Streaks are less intensive than before. And the hole itself is shrinking quite fast.” Scalpel noted, mainly to himself. “You should be in the clear by now. If you take it easy for another few days, you should be back to normal.”

“Will there be a scar?” I asked.

“No, it shouldn’t give you a scar. A wound like this is easily fixable if treated in time. You barely made that time, so consider yourself lucky.” Funny... I didn’t feel lucky.

“How did you even get shot like that anyway? You still never told us what happened after you crash landed.” Lucky inquired. I gazed at the hole, while Scalpel proceeded to dab it with more alcohol. It stung but compared to Debriding, the pain felt trivial.

“I dunno. I guess one of the changeling pilots’ stray bullets hit me while I was flying.”

“You gotta tell us what happened, while you were over there.” Lucky asked.

“Yeah, how the hell did you survive?” Bigs added.

“I got a lucky a break. Other than that, I can’t tell you.”

“What happened, Night Light?” Scalpel then asked. “I have to admit, I am rather curious. The odds of survival for you were rather low.”

“Come on, tell us.” Lucky piped up.

I shifted nervously atop the cot, all eyes on me. Scalpel was starting to redress the bandages around my torso, as Lucky and Bigs sat on their haunches, waiting for me to start speaking. I took a deep breath.

“Well, I guess I’ll start then. I crash-landed, behind enemy lines. I barely was able to bail out of the plane in time…”

More long and boring days have passed since that checkup. The fleet was heading back to Los Pegasus port for maintenance and repairs. Nothing too serious, from what I heard. We had a few skirmishes with some aircraft that were buzzing by. Not a lot, only about 10 or so each time, so we weren’t called to the air. The fleet’s AA armament was more than enough to repel any attack made. Only minor damage was suffered during those skirmishes.

We were south-east bound, as the day was starting to slow to a crawl. It was evening, about 7 or so, when I stood on the flight deck, watching the horizon. Sometimes, I would wander up top to the deck and watch the sunset. It felt soothing, listening to the various sounds emitting around me: the soothing sounds of the waves splashing against the hull of the Blueblood, the commotion caused by the crew ponies on the ship, the seagulls crying in the distance - sounds that had no relevance to war whatsoever.

After about a half an hour of staring at the sunset, the loudspeakers blared behind my head. “All hooves, dinner is served. Repeat, all hooves, dinner is served.” it spoke, which urged me to rush down the long flight of stairs to the cafeteria before the line in the server gets too long. About two minutes later, I was in line behind at least 8 other ponies along the servery counter. They were serving the same thing every day: Hayburgers with slices of Ham.

I grabbed my entree and proceeded to sit at an empty table. My team was nowhere to be found, so I assumed they were late. I sat alone eating my Hayburger first as I wait for the rest of my team to join me. There weren’t many ponies in the cafeteria, mainly because there wasn’t much food to go around for the whole ship, so we ate very little. And the servings were getting smaller and smaller with each passing week. Soon, more and more ponies stopped showing up.

Pilots, such as myself, were usually the luckier ones to land a meal. I didn’t know any other ones besides Lucky, Naya, and Bigs. There were a couple others I was familiar with, but I couldn’t recognize their names. Then again, I never bothered to ask their names. I was never much of a social pony.

I noticed Naya trot in through one of the doors. She turned her head around, scanning the cafeteria around her before she locked eye contact with me. I waved my hoof and smiled as friendly as I could manage. Her expression shifted to one I couldn’t recognize, and she immediately bolted out the door as fast as she could.

At first, I was worried about Naya. Now, I was skeptical.

I abandoned my food and attempted to chase after her, but no such luck. The moment I trotted through the door she ran through, she was nowhere to be found. It was hopeless to chase her, she could be anywhere. I felt a hoof tap my side, which was Lucky’s.

“What’s up with her?” he inquired.

“I dunno. She’s been acting this way since I got back. I think it has something to do with me.”

Lucky looked a tad apprehensive. “Did you say something to her?”

“Not that I can remember.”

“Stalliongrad Ponies. They are a weird bunch.”

I felt a small pang of discontent at Lucky’s choice of words. To discriminate a whole nation based off of the way they behave seemed unfair to me. But he did have a point. Naya had been acting nothing but strange since the moment I arrived back to the Blueblood. In fact, since less than a year ago when we were transferred from Los Pegasus, she always had a fondness for me. Never really knew why. I still don’t.

“Eh, I’m sure she’ll be fine on her own. Come on, I’m starving.” Lucky urged me to follow behind.

“I already got my tray. You just meet me at the table where I’m sitting.”

I trotted back to my supper and proceeded to finish it as Lucky sat next to me. About 5 minutes after that, Bigs trotted to our table. Only Naya was absent.

“Where’s Naya?” Bigs asked.

“Dunno. She doesn’t want to be here, for some reason.” I replied.

“That’s odd. She usually looks forward to meal times. She’s always hungry.”

“We’re all always hungry. Everypony knows that we’re running low on rations.” Lucky butted in.

“So why would she leave?” Bigs inquired.

“Dunno,” I replied, “but whatever the reason is, she’s been doing this ever since I’ve returned.”

“Actually, not even that.” Lucky stated in a matter-of-factly tone. “Ever since we saw you go down over mead lake, she kinda just… lost herself. After the crash, she went berserk and started shooting down every single plane she could find that wasn’t friendly. She chased them relentlessly.”

“Yeah,” Bigs added, “we asked her how many she shot down. She just said 'Nineteen'.”

19 aircraft shot down? That was impressive. I knew Naya was a good pilot, but that seemed a bit homicidal, coming from Naya. And that gives me an eerie sense of security.

“Did she say anything else?”

“No, she was silent the entire time over the rest of the battle. She hadn’t said a word until you came back.” Lucky answered.

Now I was skeptically worried. Naya was uncharacteristically being very coy and quiet. I had to find out what was going on and soon. If Naya were to be acting like this during a mission, I’d be afraid of what would happen.

“Have any of you tried talking to her?”

“We tried, but she was always dismissive of us, saying she was ‘fine’ and that she ‘didn’t need our help, nor want it’. She was… very literal about that.” Lucky recalled.

I sighed, face-hoofing. Why was this so hard?

“I’ll try talking to her myself.”

“Good luck with that.” Bigs muttered.

The rest of supper went by uneventfully, as we quietly finished our meals. (some of different variety due to the discovery that certain ponies were allergic to Hay.) When supper was finished, I wondered all around throughout the ship, trying to find Naya. Hopefully, if I’m lucky, she’ll be in one of her “thinking spots”.

When Naya was not with us in the air, or otherwise, she’ll be by herself in the many different hidden spots she finds for herself. She would go there when she needed to “Re-evaluate” herself, as she said. I only knew a couple of them, as I usually find them by Accident.

One of her thinking spots happens to be in the Hanger Bay. Most of the time, there will be aircraft parked inside the hanger, either in need of maintenance, repairs, refilling ammo, and so on. Some planes, due to their wing size, would have their wings folded upward, almost like a triangle. These kinds of planes are usually parked near the walls of the Hanger.

There was one Osprey, a Dive Bomber, that was parked in one of the corners of the bay, that was underneath a metallic support beam, stretching up all the way to the ceiling. Its wings were folded upward, making it easy to climb atop of it and to climb the support beam. The support beam led upward and stopped at a little triangular space just barely small enough to fit a pony if they wished to loiter there. That was one of Naya’s spots, though she wasn’t there.

Funnily enough, that same Osprey was Lucky’s Osprey. He was a CAS pilot on regular missions, but on missions involving Air Superiority, he flew with me. The only reason he didn’t fly his Osprey over Mead Lake was due to the weather. It was too perilous to risk our few carrier dive bombers for a ground mission when they could be needed for a fleet. The same thing happened over Pegasi Gulf.

One fact about Naya that struck to me was the fact that she was very nimble and agile. She could traverse almost any obstacle, even with the absence of fingers like what the Griffins had. She could very easily climb this support beam and make it to her spot in less than ten seconds. Rainbow would be proud…

Giving up on that spot, I traversed the ship’s lower-stern levels, typically where the engine would be. The engine room, while smaller than the Hanger Bay and also very noisy, also had one of Naya’s thinking spots. There was a small corner that was secluded from the rest of the room and isolated from the ponies that worked here. She wasn’t there either.

Running out of spots to check, I brainstormed to myself, trying to think: where would a troubled pegasus be if she was trying to hide from others. I couldn’t think of any other spots that she might be hiding in, so the last place I assumed she would be was in the air, up in the clouds. But that violated jurisdictional protocols for pegasi pilots, like myself and Naya. still, Naya was known to be a rebel.

I galloped to the flight deck, earning looks of confusion from other ponies along the way. Once I made it, I trotted off to the side of the control tower, away from others where they couldn’t see me. Once I assumed I was hidden, I looked up to the sky. There were so many huge, puffy clouds decorating the orange colored atmosphere, that it would be impossible to assume on my own which cloud she was in.

Nevertheless, I spread my wings and took off, ascending upward. Nopony seemed to notice, which was good. Getting back down unnoticed would be a challenge, but due to it being evening, I could slip through during curfew. I gradually climbed higher and higher, still unnoticed by the fleet, and proceeded closer to the clouds. When I made it, I flew straight through one of the clouds and burst through on the other side. I landed atop one of them and scanned around me.

I noticed, to my Southwest, a red figure sitting on the edge. She seemed perplexed for some reason as if she saw something impossible just happen in front of her. I flew towards her, approaching from behind. She didn’t notice me. I landed behind her and stopped.

“What do I say?” I thought. Now that I found her, it didn’t occur to me what I should talk about. What I needed to know was why she was being so awkward and isolated, more so than usual. But it didn’t seem right to start off a conversation like that though. I could see what she was staring at though. The sun was just now starting to disappear underneath the horizon, which was an endless plane of Ocean. She seemed to be lost in thought.

The sunset did look beautiful, however. I trotted, ever so slowly, closer to her, softly clearing my throat.

“You know,” I began “I always enjoyed sunsets.” Naya turned to look at me, startled at my presence. “ST would usually drag me out of our house and watch the sunset when we had nothing else to do. I was reluctant about it at first, me being an Introvert and all. But after doing that with her so many times, I began to appreciate how beautiful it was. The landscape would turn into gold, the warmth of the sun basking on my coat, the sky turning orange. It’s like, for a split second, I’m in some kind of paradise.”

Naya didn’t move. She didn’t speak. So I continued. “I still love them. I could find myself outside of the war just for a moment, and enjoy the warmth of Celestia’s sun, even for a short amount of time. Now, I would kill for me to be back with ST, to sit on top of a cloud together, and just sit there, thinking to ourselves, holding each other while doing so.”

Naya, still speechless, looked like she was trying to fight back tears.

“Point is: I would do anything to get back to that old life. Whatever it takes. And if it means I have to keep all of my team members alive, so be it. If it means I have to crash land behind enemy lines, and survive without much food, or water, with a gunshot wound in my wither, so be it. I can, and will, do whatever it takes, Naya.” I sat beside her, my wings unfurled.

“Naya, ever since I came back, you looked very troubled about something. And no matter how many times I tried to talk to you, you are always not around. I’m not upset about it, but I am concerned about you. What is wrong?”

Naya hung her head, her facial features not visible. Her mane was blocking half of her face. There was a choking noise, then a sob, as Naya’s shoulders heaved. I wrapped my wings around her and embraced her. She cried even more.

When I was a filly, I distinctly remember my father doing this when I was distressed. He would hold me in his hooves, and wrap both of his wings around me, embracing me as I would cry until I fell asleep, or run out of tears. After doing the same thing to Naya, I felt a pang of sorrow in my chest. Naya began to weep loudly.

“Shh shh shh, it’s okay. It’s okay…” I muttered as she sobbed into my mane. She clung onto me, as if for dear life, and continued to cry as I kept Shushing her. about 5 minutes or so, before she regained her composure, she spoke.

“I… I’m sorry. I’ve been rather selfish, haven’t I?”

“Nothing to apologize for. It’s understandable. What I want to know is why. Why have you been avoiding us, more so than usual?”

“I…” She hesitated. She pondered to herself shortly before continuing. “I saw the plane who was shooting at you. I couldn’t get him in time before he… shot you down. I saw your plane spin to the ground, but I didn’t see you jump out… Didn’t hear your voice. I thought you…” She made another choking sound, before continuing. “After that, I felt… Numb. I didn’t care what happened to me at that point. I shot down your killer, and many more afterward. With every plane I shot down, more kept coming, and I kept flying, dodging, shooting, and killing. Every changeling that tried to tussle with me is now dead.”

I silently listened as I continued to hold her.

“When we were told to RTB, I didn’t feel anything. I felt completely empty inside, not happy that I killed your killer, not sad that you were dead, not relieved that I survived. I felt hollow. Like I was a shell of my former self. When I made it back to my cot, I couldn’t sleep. All I could do was silently weep.”

The whole circumstance felt overwhelming to me: the guilt for inadvertently abandoning Naya, the confusion for seeing Naya this uncharacteristically depressed, the sadness for Naya feeling lost and hopeless. So many different emotions and thoughts going through my head, I felt a bit dizzy. And above all else, all of them were feelings toward Naya.

Naya stopped talking, and I was at a lost of what to do. I’m sad, angry a little, a bit anxious about what to say, and most importantly guilty for all that had happened. I pondered silently as she continued to hold me.

Very distinctively, she reminded me of Sunshine Tempest…

I dipped my head and softly kissed her forehead. She had a perplexed look on her face.

“Listen to me Naya, I’m here right now. I am alive and well, aside from being in pain a little from what happened. But nevertheless, I am still alive, Naya. That means that whatever happened over mead lake wasn’t your fault! So stop blaming yourself for what happened.”

“But I-I could’ve prevented you from being shot down! I-I could… I could’ve saved you, maybe!” Naya stuttered.

“Even so, I do not blame you for what happened. So you shouldn’t do the same. It wasn’t your fault, and I mean it. And another thing, I survived because I made a promise to you guys. I promised 3 ponies a mission I set ourselves on for us that I plan to keep: I promised you, Lucky, and Bigs, to try my absolute best, and give my everything, if it meant for us to go home alive. And when I crashed in Mead Lake, I wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. Simple as that.”

Naya was lost in emotional thought. She silently thought to herself for a moment, before speaking, “How can you promise such a thing? Who knows how long this war will last? It could last for a decade, maybe more!”

“It could also last for just a year-”

“If we lose!”

“Naya! Focus for a second here! I don’t know how long this war is. I don’t even care at this point. All I know is that there is no end in sight just yet. I plan to fight and fly my way through to see it. And I promised you and the others that you will too. And that is a promise I intend to keep!”

Naya was still apprehensive about such a ludicrous promise. To be fair, it did seem illogical, to promise such an unpredictable thing. But I intend to keep it, even to my end.

“I-I’m scared, Night Light. I-I seem like a tough pony, but I’ve never been so terrified in my life! I-I’ve… I’ve heard stories of what happens to Ponies on the frontlines, a-and in the air. I don’t understand why! Why are we at war? Why does Chrysalis hate us so much? Why must we throw innocent lives at our enemy, and accept the massive casualties as normality?! It doesn’t make SENSE!” She was screaming now.

“I… I don’t know, Naya. I really don’t. And I am just as scared as you are. Terrified even. I’m forced to fight a war nopony asked for while my special somepony is doing the same thing, with the very real chance that both of us will die by the time this is over. I have to risk my life, and the lives of others, just to follow orders from a more ‘Official’ pony, because that’s the only thing I can do: ‘Follow orders’. And yeah, it sucks.”

Naya’s grip loosened just a little, almost barely noticeable. I gently stroke her mane, and continued.

“But as long as you, Bigs, Lucky, and my Sunshine are still alive, I have a reason to fight. A reason to keep going. A reason to see this through to the very end. I promise you, with all I have, and all I am willing to give, that we will survive, Naya. I promise.”

Naya stopped shaking in my grip afterward. “O...okay. Okay, I-I trust you. I want to survive Night Light. I really do. Is that so selfish to ask?”

“I’d like to think it’s not. It’s something we all know and love. Life.”

Naya looked at me, tears still flowing freely from her eyes. Then, for the first time in a while, she smiled. Very faintly, but I could tell.

“...Thank you.”

Author's Note

By late November, the Lunar Ocean Fleet was ordered to dock at Los Pegasus. The Nature of the order was due to wartime anxiety and paranoia that the Changelings would attempt a naval invasion of the City, though Queen Chrysalis had no intention of doing so.

Instead, her military was focused on Stabilizing the Shire Frontline, as an Equestrian offensive was launched on November 22nd, 1012. Three Salients were formed on the western bank of the large river, and the Changeling Army was at risk of an Equestrian Breakthrough.

In retaliation of this recent development, Chrysalis turned her attention towards the south, at the western coast near Pegasi Gulf. The City of Los Pegasus was an Industrial Hub, responsible for a good portion of Wartime Production, which mainly consisted of aircraft. If the Changeling Hegemony were to capture the city, it would hinder Equestria's ability to maintain air superiority across the country.

On November 26th, the 4th Changeling Army would launch a full scale offensive along the western coast, aiming for the Pegasi River, where the city was located. Due south of the river lied the wide open oil fields of San Palomino Desert, crucial for the production of many Equestrian vehicles

Although it was estimated that the offensive would last for 2 weeks before arriving to the city, progress was slow. Causalities were stacking for both sides, but the advance continues. Finally, on December 4th, they were at least 50 miles from the city before the offensive was ceased.

The Equestrians, expecting another attack, deployed their reserve infantry in the city, which mainly consisted of ill-equipped militia. They were ready for a full scale attack, and were prepared to give their lives in the defense of their homeland.

Unbeknownst to the Equestrians however, the Changelings were not seeking to capture the city. On the morning of December 7th, approximately 4 hours past midnight, 1500 planes that were launched from Vanhoover - up to the northern side of the Western Coastline - were heading towards the city of Los Pegasus, consisting of Heavy Bombers and Fighter Escorts... along with a secret weapon.

This "Secret Weapon" was named "Aigaion", and it had only one mission:

Incinerate Los Pegasus