The Conversion Bureau : Requiem
AN: I took a few liberties with the canon, but I tried to keep it close. Hope you enjoy.
Requiem
A (very very late) event fic by Sir Issac Johington
Silence was a rare thing for Jacob to hear, ever since everything went to hell, and now that he was hearing it, it left him unsettled. His ragged breathing was the only sound to break up the otherwise oppressive silence that surrounded him as he rested in the lobby of an abandoned apartment complex. It’d be what, two months since the purges had started? He honestly had lost count; every day had melded into a blur of paranoia and fear after the first two weeks. At first, it had been almost easy. Either out of a sense of superiority, or simply ignorant to human nature, they’d not prepared for such active resistance by the remainder of humans. It’d been easy to ward them off, even to strike back. Yet nothing ever remained easy and neither did resisting.
It got harder, because the ponies started to adapt. Soon enough they learned not to have their unicorns within easy rifle range, to give their earth pony shock troopers more armor, to have them charge in while the pegasi provided cover, their tactics turning from sloppy to organized, and the humans from easy victors, to hard pressed fighters. After all, if one human only killed one pony before dying, it was a win for the other side. Even when the death rate for the attackers was atrocious, the ponies just kept coming, an endless tide until every one of them died, and then only a respite until more came.
Yet even then, life had not been impossible. No, it was only when purity came into being, that things had turned to hell. Before, ponification was the end, but at least some could survive, could continue on living as ponies. Jacob had never subscribed to it as death as many others did. It didn’t make him want it anymore, but at least it was something. Purity took that away. If a group of humans stood out too much, got too good at killing their ponification squads, in went purity. Purity. As if the purging of humanity was something pure.
By now his breathing was more or less under control, no longer puffing from the exertion of having ran as far as he did, and his thoughts drifted less from the past and more to the present. He was pretty sure he’d lost them, but even now he needed to be quiet, that same welcome yet unnerving silence surrounding him as he realized just how alone he was. No friends, no backup. Nobody else. Just him now, alone, in an abandoned apartment building in a city he didn’t even know.
There were an awful lot of cities like this anymore. Ancient relics of a time since past, left deserted by the ponies for greener pastures, ever since the hunt for humanity had begun. “Call us the monsters…” He huffed to himself, shaking his head. He’d heard things, on the radio broadcasts Celestia sent out. How they were characterized as dangerous beasts. They weren’t the ones causing all this.
“Ought to restock while I have the time.” Jacob told himself as he looked around, taking in his surroundings again. They reminded him of his old apartment complex really. He’d lived in an apartment complex for a while; only thing you could afford on a grad school salary. Those were the days, back before the ponies came. Back before everything went wrong.
Still, right now that didn’t matter. Right now he had to restock. Food, water, a car, he needed all of it. Food and water should be easy, the only question was the car. There would likely be plenty of keys to loot, but that didn’t mean the cars they worked for would be in good condition, or even operable. After all, it had likely been a long while since most of them had been driven, or even cared for.
Thus, the ransacking of the apartment complex began in earnest. It was only disturbed when he heard a noise, hand darting to the weapon at his side, then sighing once he knew it was nothing. By the end of the first floor, he had enough water to last him a good week, though he did need some more food. Nothing complicated, premade things, or at least things that weren’t hard to make quickly, without heat. He’d also found a few promising key fobs he could use in the rooms, stuffing those into his pockets. Not like their owners would be using them anymore, and the more he had the easier it’d be to find a working car. Thus he began walking up the flight of stairs to the next floor, quickly ascending them.
The second floor thankfully gave him enough food to last a good while, and with his pack heavy enough that it dragged on his shoulders, he figured that he’d gotten enough of his basic needs for now. All that was really left was looking for a few other less essential items. Then he’d have to set on out again, before the ponies caught up with him. After all, the ones he’d hit with the darts were probably starting to wake up around now, and he’d hate to get caught alone by them. Alone. He really was alone, and only now did it really catch up to him what that meant.
There was no one else to help him, no one else to talk to or laugh with. The whole lot of them were either converted, or purified. Either way, they were dead to him, as long as he wished to remain himself, and not a slave to Celestia. He’d always just tried to hitch a ride with the biggest group going where he was trying to go. Now he was alone…and he didn’t know if was even possible to do it by himself.
After all, even if he was lucky, and there weren’t any squads around there, how would he drive all those miles to get there unaided? The smartest thing to do would have been to simply just leave, head off into the woods and just live a quiet life there, but there was no chance of that. Not while they were still doing this, not while they were still using the potion on others. He had to do something, anything to set things right.
His thoughts were disturbed however, by a clanging sound, and it startled him so much he drew his tranquilizer pistol, dropping down to a crouch and looking around panicked. The silence however, quickly resumed, and seeing nothing Jacob slowly relaxed. “Looks like I’m getting paranoid.” Then again, with no one to help, he’d probably have to grow more paranoid. That, or he’d hope to find someone. Maybe he could, it wasn’t impossible. Find a few other people, team back up. It’d make surviving a heck of a lot easier.
Floors three and four went quicker than floors one and two since he no longer had to scrounge for food. He was only looking for a few things, things like tasers, stuff he could use to defend himself. At the very least, he hoped to find something to keep potion of him, something long to cover himself and splash proof. It’d help keep him human at least, though it wouldn’t do much to stop purity.
By the end of the fourth floor though, he only had managed to get himself a new Taser. There were other weapons available of course, a rather nice pistol he remembered shooting a few times at the range being one of them, but in the end he only took the Taser. He couldn’t shoot them. It went against everything he believed, and even if they were trying to kill him, he couldn’t bring himself to do the same.
With the addition of the Taser however, Jacob figured it was time to go. He couldn’t carry a whole lot else anyway, and time was wearing on. He had more than enough to survive for a while, and finding a car could take far too long. Thus he turned around, shifting the weight on his back and descending the stairs, as his thoughts once more returned to better days.
He still remembered when he’d bought his first real car. It’d been right after getting his degree in medical nanotechnology. Dr. Jacob MacArthur. His mom had been so proud, and he’d bought the car in celebration, though in the end he did not use it a whole lot. It had only been a year after that when he’d gotten his big break, and then he’d upgraded big time.
His big break. What a fitting term for it. It’d broken his future, it’d broken the world’s future, and it caused this whole god-awful catastrophe. He shook his head a bit at that thought however, a frown covering his face. He couldn’t dwell on it. He was going to fix it, that was all that mattered. He’d fix it, somehow. He had to.
Once he left the apartment, he began searching for the last thing he needed, the car. His senses were alert for anything, trading key fob after key fob as his head turned, scanning his surroundings for anything, the flicker of a light, the sight of a pony, or even a fellow human. Yet only the abandoned husks of civilization greeted him. This place had to have been alive at one point, yet here he was, looking at what amounted to the carcass of a city long since gutted of any life. Likely most of the humans had already left before Celestia had executed her plan, and the rest ran afterwards. His group had only meant to stock up here, before a potion squad had ambushed them, sent them all scrambling.
Thankfully for him, the first car he found was a nice one, and when he started the engine, it rumbled to life without protest, the tank soon indicating a good 300 more miles left on the car’s charge. The windows were nice and heavy too, so with any luck any thrown potion bombs wouldn’t break the glass and spray him with it. All in all, it seemed a good grab.
Even the engine was quiet, the hum of the engine faint enough to hopefully make driving that much easier for him. Once he was settled in, he started to pull out onto the main street, flicking on the onboard GPS and throwing his backpack into the passenger seat. Sometimes he was surprised the satellite network still worked. Ponies seemed not to care for it much, yet it continued to chug away. It gave him hope this could still all work.
That hope reinvigorated him, even as his resolve steeled to his task. He was alive, he could breath and move, that was enough. There would be no stopping until he’d reached his goal. Not while he had the will and ability. The nearest point was 700 miles away from here by the GPS, and after plotting it into the machine, he settled himself behind the wheel. He’d driven a car like this before. An older edition, but it still felt the same in many ways. He’d driven a lot of cars after he’d gotten rich, though such days of wealth seemed silly to dwell on now. That money wasn’t worth anything now.
“Lets see how long we can keep this up. Shame to end the road trip now.” Jacob told himself, before he hit the gas again, and the car took off down the highway. The day’s light was still strong, and he knew he’d have a while yet before he’d need to ditch this car, and get the next one. Hopefully he could ride it out until nightfall. Driving during night was…dangerous, you stood out like a sore thumb in the darkness with your headlights, made it easy for any night patrol’s to see you. Travelling on foot was far safer then.
However, the long stretch of open road lulled him slightly, the drive easy, and his mind wandering after thirty minutes of vigilance. It always did anymore, even though he never enjoyed what he remembered. All it did was remind him of what he’d lost. He’d not seen his daughter in so long. He’d been separated from her during the initial chaos, and something told him he’d never see her as a human again. If he saw her at all, it’d be because she was trying to convert him, or because all was already lost.
A hard pit formed in his stomach at these thoughts, at how unfair this all was. He’d done nothing, and now he was forced to run, from family, from friends, all because he was played like a fool! “Damn ponies!” He said, smacking his hand against the wheel then wincing at how solid it was. Not much padding left it seemed. Still, the little outburst didn’t make him feel better, and an ill humor descended over him for a few minutes. It didn’t last though, because something strange on the horizon caught his attention.
He could hardly believe what he was seeing, but he really was. It was a person! They were walking along the road quite a ways ahead, but approaching quickly, Jacob hitting the brakes and slowing down dramatically, before stopping next to the man, rolling down his window and meeting the others eyes with his own.
“Hey.” Jacob said, nodding slightly to him and giving him a slight smile. “Where ya going?” He seemed young, no older than 25, and yet a weariness surrounded him, suggesting the rifle he carried had seen more than a little use. His sandy blond hair was a mess, though Jacob figured his own wasn’t much better, and his clothing was messed and stained with something Jacob had no curiosity to find out about.
“Anywhere but back there.” The young man replied, looking back behind him for a moment and then shaking his head. “Nothing back there for me. Where you headed?”
“I’m going to Colorado Springs, hear there’s a lot of folks gathering there,” Jacob told the other, hand pointing out towards the city he had named, then continuing, “You’re welcome to come with me. West is better than east at least when it comes to ponies, and two people will have more luck staying alive and human than one.” The man seemed to ponder this offer for a bit, before shrugging, and moving to the passenger seat, nodding slightly as Jacob pulled his bag out from there, and threw it in the back. The other man threw his stuff in the back as well, and Jacob soon after hit the gas pedal to start the car going again.
“How many miles we got on this tank?” The stranger asked, slapping the dashboard with a hand. “Doubt we can make it all the way there in one car, but hopefully the next one won’t be a pain. They got my brother when we had to stop to fuel up, real early on. We got lucky that time though, killed most of them. I’m Stan Johnson. Nice to meet you.”
“Jacob,” Jacob said with a nod of his head, eyes scanning the road in front as he finished answering, “And yeah. Got about I’d say 300 miles before we have to ditch this one. Pretty good overall, even if the things could go 600 miles on a full charge.” He wasn’t going to be picky when he got a nice car like this one to use.
“Jacob eh? Nice name. Ya got any weapons on ya? Didn’t see any but not like you can stay human for 3 months and not fight somehow.” Stan seemed to notice the lack of any serious firepower on him, obviously expecting him to say he had something in reserve, but Jacob was going to have to disappoint on that.
“Sure. Got a taser, and a few tranq rounds.” Jacob replied nonchalantly, Stan chuckling for a few moments before he realized that Jacob wasn’t joking. His green eyes burrowed into Jacob for a second before shaking his head with disgust.
“You’re shitting me right? Surely you’ve got more firepower than that!” Stan said, motioning towards his rifle. “Hell I have three clips for this thing left! And a pistol for when I run out of this! Shit man how are you still even alive?” The man shook his head in astonishment, adding “Man I’ve nearly died twice and that was with a group of guys who were just as armed as I was. God I should go alone, with you I’m definitely fucked.”
“Look, it’s not always about killing. Hell, hiding works a hell of a lot better for survival. You’ll have to get used to the idea, with just the two of us going there, we couldn’t hope to take a potion squad down, let alone purity.” Jacob countered, adding “No matter how many bullets you have they have more and more ponies to fire them.”
Stan couldn’t argue that, thinking for a moment then shrugging. “Yeah yeah good point.” Silence fell over the two for a good few minutes afterwards, before Stan decided to click through the radio stations, searching for anything new, or at least some music. However all he got was Celestia’s radio station, and a few survivor bands set up. Celestia’s station was broadcasting its usual propaganda about humanity and the righteous struggle to cleanse the world of its human stain interspersed with music by pony artists. The other stations were either a repeating call to arms, or survivor groups calling out for the remaining stragglers to band together. He was actually headed towards one such group right now.
“Shit…I remember when you could still find songs on the radio. None of this pony shit. Hell some of it wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t constantly say how they were so much better, or how they always play that one human song, saying it’s the last song of humanity. Fucking funeral march, think they’re so funny don’t they,” Stan grumbled all this, flicking the radio off and slumping back annoyed.
“Its actually a Requiem to be precise.” Jacob offered, gaining a look of confusion from Stan. “A song sung to memorialize the dead.” That only made Stan rolls his eyes slightly, silence resuming once more, before Stan eventually asked one question that had been burning on his mind for a while now.
“Why do you only have those weak things? There are plenty of guns around, surely you could have gotten one if you wanted right? Are ya a pansy?” Stan asked, saying “Or just a crappy shot?”
Jacob sighed a little at that question, he’d heard it often enough, and he’d responded to it plenty enough as well. “It’s a personal choice. I’m not about killing humans, and as far as I’m concerned ponies are human enough for me.” That was just how it was, even if Stan, as had many others, stared at him as if he’d grown a third arm from his chest.
“Ponies? Human? Hah, they walk on four legs and their goal is our eradication, I think they’re not human enough for me.” He shook his head, adding “Might as well kill all of them, not like they’re anything like us.”
“They can think and feel. They bleed red and have hopes and dreams like the rest of us. What more is a life to you than that?” Jacob asked, frowning a little at him. “Should I be able to kill them just because they look different, walk on four legs? I’m not going to decide when and where I should kill anything. That’s just not my job.” All this was true, but there was another reason why he couldn’t kill them, though Stan didn’t need to know that.
“Hell, let's look at them as if they were a human. They’re telling me that if I don’t convert forcibly I’ll die. Am I not right to resist? I’d resist a human doing that, much like most would. Maybe you’re the type who don’t believe in violence at all, but if we don’t fight back who will? Should we just roll over and let them abuse us, let them tell us how to live our lives for no reason other than they think they know best?” Stan emphasized this by stamping a hand on the side of the car door, shaking his head and saying, “No way I’m going to just roll over and let them tell me how to live! Fuck that, and fuck all the ponies who think they know better how I should live than I do!”
“You can resist. I’m not judging you. Hell I know my ass has been saved by others who’ve fought back plenty of times. I just can’t do it. Besides, turning into a pony isn’t death. They’re still similar. Maybe not the same, different, but it’s still the person we know, in many ways. I couldn’t stomach shooting a frien-“ Jacob would have gone on more about this, but a sudden crack of gunfire startled him. Something was going down; though a bend in the road left them without any clear sight as to what might be going on.
"Shit!” Stan said, ducking down as Jacob slammed on the brakes. The sound of gunfire rang out again, it was fairly close too, which was even more worrying. Stan brought his rifle almost immediately as he looked outside, expecting the car to be raked by gunfire any moment now, though he was more surprised when Jacob started to slow the car.
"Hey, why are you stopping here?!” Stan yelled, looking over at Jacob who had by now managed to bring the car to a near halt. “There’s a fight going on, we have to help!”
“Not in this car! If it’s some small group getting overwhelmed, going in guns blazing will only get us killed! Better wait towards the end. Then we’ll either be able to help the wounded humans, or get out without being killed, if the humans are all gone.” Jacob told him that as he opened the door, grabbing his pack full of stuff and shifting his weight slightly, the sound of gunfire still ringing out as he slunk down low and said “On foot is better.”
Stan seemed to ponder this for a moment before agreeing, sliding his backpack on and taking the lead after a few hurried seconds of running. “I’ll lead, better than Mr spineless doing it.” His rifle scanned the area in front of him fairly efficiently, making Jacob wonder for a moment if maybe the sandy blond haired man had been in the armed forces before all of this. Their little procession continued for a good ten minutes forward, keeping low and doing their best to get towards the source of the gunfire without drawing anyone’s attention.
“I’m far from spineless you know.” Jacob eventually said as they got closer, the gunfire starting to die down at this point, which while nice for their ears, made Jacob wonder if maybe the battle wasn’t already over. “Just because I don’t like killing doesn’t make me spineless.” The battle seemed to be fairly close after all this scurrying, and before Stan really had time to reply the rounded a bend and came upon quite a messy sight.
“Ergh…even for a pony that’s gruesome.” Stan said quietly, the head of one pastel equine essentially pasted, the stench of blood strong, though it seemed he’d been one of the first killed, judging by the fact there was very little else around. Stan eventually had to avert his eyes, but Jacob seemed fairly calm, looking at it dispassionately then scanning around for other signs of the conflict.
“Least he died quick. Wish I could bury him, but don’t think we have the time…” Jacob said, his tranquilizer pistol’s handle was squeezed tightly at this point, pushing past the gruesome sight and continuing on.
“Bury him? Hah. Good riddance I say.” Stan said, shaking off the slight hesitation that had filled him at the sight . “One more for the crows to feed on as far as I’m concerned!” Jacob merely gave a soft hmph of exasperation at that comment, if only because Stan only seemed to be saying that as a show of bravado. Things only got more gruesome as they went on anyway. As if to accent that, another few bodies showing themselves, neater wounds this time perhaps, but one Pegasus who’d been shot in the wing and head, and another who had gotten quite a few to the chest, judging by the blood that had poured out onto the ground in a puddle behind him. Jacob seemed to take this all in as dispassionately as he had the first, while Stan seemed to be a bit unnerved by the sight.
“ Looks like the ponies got torn up. Probably the whole lot are fine, with these bodies! Heh, ponies always did crumple under real human fighters.” Stan stated, again with that same tone of bravado that made Jacob certain he was still a bit hesitant at seeing all of this.
“We’ve seen 4 bodies. Judging by their equipment, they’re purity, and most patrols go in groups of 30.” As if to validate this, it was then they found their first dead human, his lifeless eyes staring at them as his chest was red with blood. Jacob walked closer at this point, kneeling down to look at the man, then sigh, shaking his head. “At least this all seems fairly quick, save for that one Pegasus who seemingly bled out.”
“Jeez you’re unflappable. Don’t even seem bothered by this man! Didn’t expect some pacifist softy like you to be so calm with blood!” Stan said, the sight of the dead human spooking him quite a bit more than he’d like to admit. He didn’t like being reminded how easily he could die.
“Its awfully hard to be a doctor if you’re scared of blood,” was Jacob’s only reply, his tone cool in an effort to keep himself calm. Being dispassionate was the only way to keep himself from freaking out at all of this. It was how he’d worked in medicine, calmly and rationally deciding how to operate, and not letting the fact he was holding the life of a person in his hands unnerve him. He wasn’t too big on surgery operations, but he’d done more than a few, he knew how to treat most problems.
“A doctor? Huh.” Stan commented quietly, shaking his head again as they continued on, the signs of the conflict growing more numerous and warmer. The smell of fresh blood was clear in the air, and the sound of gunfire, while closer, was more sporadic. Bodies littered the area, both human and pony, as they both seemed well armed and violent. It was a nasty battle, by any means, as any fights with purity were. They had been walking for another five or six minutes at this point, Jacob having stopped to check every human for any signs of life, and always finding them too cool to have to worry about. It was a minute or two after that until they found the spot where the fiercest fighting had obviously gone down.
“Christs sakes…” Stan said, looking away for a moment, though Jacob merely squinted, the scene a sight to turn even the strongest stomachs. Ponies and humans laid about dead, dying, and moaning out in pain, the smell of blood and worse covering the air with its sickening stench. Jacob had something to look for though, and without further ado, he found it.
“There’s one.” He said, after a moment, briskly walking over a pegasi who was still twitching, two rounds hitting his body but not quite dead yet, and headed to a human who was moaning in pain. Stan of course, took care of the pegasi, looking at the poor pony and shaking his head, and placing a round in the creature's skull to end it. “Not like you’d live anyway.” He had been bleeding pretty badly from the stomach, and the likelihood of decent medical care out here was slim.
The human Jacob had been heading towards merely moaned in pain as Jacob reached him, Stan looking around for any purity survivors, though it seemed the combat had finished most of them off. “A-are you r-real?” The man asked, gasping again as his wound continued to burble blood, red staining his shirt as Jacob merely set his pack down, and nodded.
“Real as it gets. And Stan, for goodness sake stop shooting until I’ve had a chance to look at them!” Jacob said, turning to address Stan for a moment then returning his attention to the wounded man, hand moving to his shoulder to reassure him as he said “Now lay down. I’ve got to check out the wound.” He didn’t think it’d be a very good case for the man. But he had to try anyway. Perhaps it had missed anything vital. Maybe he could patch the wound and he’d survive.
Such hopes were dashed the moment the shirt was removed, Jacob wincing, and the man giving off a groan of pain. “Y-you a doc? I-is it bad?” His teeth were gritted hard , though he was bearing the pain impressively well all things considered.
“Its,” Jacob said, pausing for a moment, then continuing, “it’s bad. Looks like you got shot in the gut, and your stomach acids are spilling out into your body.” Jacob said quietly. The man grunted in response, Jacob not finished however and adding, “There…there’s not much I could do. If I had a hospital, maybe. As it is I don’t have many options.”
“S-shit…d-damn p-purity ambushed us, d-dunno ho-how many others m-made it!” The man didn’t seem to realize he seemed to be one of the last ones moving at the moment. “I-I d-don’t wanna die…”
“You may not have to.” Jacob murmured quietly, looking over at Stan, who was nudging another pony, who seemed like he might still have a little life in him, then shaking his head. “Stan! Check though some of their bags! Look for a vial of potion.”
“What? You out of your mind?! Why the fuck would we want that?” Stan yelled back, though he did bend down to start to sift through the dead ponies saddlebags.
“Just do it! Bring it over to me when you’ve got it. You hear?” Jacob said, before turning to the human, and asking him. “Hey. What’s your name? I’m Jacob.”
“J-jack.” Jack said, huffing harder and his eyes starting to water as the pain continued to spread through him, more blood leaking, though bloodloss was not the reason his case was hopeless. The round in his stomach was the real killer…and a painful way to go. “W-why you asking?”
Stan by then had brought over the vial, holding it as if it were about to leap out and attack him. “T-this isn’t a hell of a lot…couldn’t even use this as a weapon!”
“Not intended to. My guess would be they’d offer it to people like Jack here.” Jacob took the vial, and then shook it lightly, nodding slightly as he then said “Look Jack. You don’t want to die. I understand that. But I know I can’t save you. If I had a hospital I could. But we don’t have those luxuries. Right now, you have three choices. Stan there has a nice gun. A round in your head, and you’ll be dead before you digest yourself. You could just die naturally…not a good option, rather nasty way to go. Or you could take this. It’ll take care of the stomach wound, and the bullet. Of course, you’ll be a pony.”
“You fucking crazy? We killed people that converted! All he’d do would be to follow us, track us down!” Stan said, growling and saying “No way am I go-“ But he was cut off by Jacob suddenly standing, and staring at him intensely.
“Are you this man?!” Jacob snarled, pointing down and then shaking his head. “Are you dying of a shot to the stomach that’ll kill you? If you’re not, then don’t you dare speak for him!”
“Look I just am not going to-“
“Rope my friend. Truss him up for a bit, just enough that he had to work to wiggle them off, and by then we’re gone. Now unless you want to be just like those “damn ponies” and tell somebody else what they can and can’t do for no goddam reason, shut the hell up. I’m treating a patient.” With that, Jacob turned around, and moved back down, the vial still held in his hand as he asked Jack, “Now, Jack. Before Stan interrupted me, I was asking you…do you want to become a pony?” Stan merely gave a snort of disgust, turning away, and muttering that he’d be the one to tie him up just to make sure.
“W-will i-it hurt? D-does it taste bad?” Jack asked, teeth clenched hard as he tried to keep his voice even. It was obvious the pain was getting excruciating. That only made it more morbidly amusing how he cared about the taste. Though he was really just trying to weigh his options Jacob figured, everybody knew that the ponies who had gotten caught by the potion seemed to love the transformation.
“No, it won’t. In fact, it’ll feel good. Like I said, we’ll tie you up, for our own safety. My recommendation would be to find a radio, try and flag down some help afterwards.” Jacob nodded slightly, adding “And its grape flavored. Shouldn’t be too bad, unless you don’t like grapes I guess.”
"A-a-and I’ll l-live?” He asked, looking again at the purple vial as Jacob nodded solemnly, saying a quiet yes in affirmation. “T-then…I d-don’t want to die…n-not now.”
“Then open up.” Jacob said quietly, the man’s mouth doing as ordered and opening wide. Jacob soon after tipped the vial of potion upwards and the potion poured down the man’s throat.
“A-aaaah…” He said, the relief almost instant as he laid back, his hands leaving his stomach as tthe pain melted away, the fusion of magic and science beginning its work, and sweeping its changes over him. This pinnacle of both species, of human science and pony magic, combined to treat the gravest wounds. Fully regrow limbs, regain mental function, everything medicine had been working towards for so long realized in one easy dose. Yet now all it would be remembered for was how it was used for genocide. Least he had put it to its intended use for one last time.
“The pains all gone…I feel so good, s-so light and free!” He said, sighing in relief and then starting to laugh, his deep bass laugh starting to change to a lighter, airy one, the voice the first sign, but many more rapidly appearing. The hole in his stomach disappeared, mending itself as good as new, flawless in fact, though it’d not last like that for long. Jacob rushed to remove his shoes, untying them quickly and then yanking his pants down after, not going to leave him with those on at least, though the rest he could deal with himself.
The first real change was his skin, as fur grew all over it, thick and brown, before changing into a dark blue color. His hair as well changed to a lighter shade, a nice blue shade, the coat the color the night sky while his mane was a shade below sky blue. His mane continued to grow out as well, even as his fur stopped. Then the snapping sounds came. His toes started to meld together, and his fingers as well, fusing and giving him a clubbed hand and foot look, before his heel disappeared upwards, and the sickening cracks only continued to grow.
Yet during this all he merely gave moans of pleasure, a few pants of delight coming out as if this were the best feeling in the world, his hooves, as they were more hooves than hands now, clutching at the ground as he said “Aa-aah, it-its so good!” His voice was by now definitely the pitch of a pony, and the fur he had settled on him, though he still seemed a gross fusion of man and pony as of yet. Then his skull gave the loudest crack of all, and it gave way, shifting instead to the proper shape of a pony head, and the rest of his bones and body shifting in much the same manner, joints popping out of place from one body into the other in a symphony of sounds that could turn any stomach.
“Ughh…” Jacob said, forced to look away as the transformation neared its final frenzied end. The pony in question by now was calming down, much as the transformation finished, sighing in relaxed delight and saying softly just how wonderful that had felt, how good it had been and how they had to do it too.
“Sick freak. I’d rather die than convert.“ Stan said, growling slightly as he turned around, and without further ado, brought out the rope he’d retrieved, and began to wrap it around the legs of the new Pegasus.
“L-let me go! S-stop! You don’t know how good it is, really, its wonderful!” Of course, the former human’s cries fell on deaf ears, Stan trussing him up if anything even harder than before while muttering, “Another one of them! He’ll likely end up with a bullet in his head from trying to convert us, I tell you. Should have just saved ourselves the trouble of the whole deal and ended it.” Jacob wasn’t listening to Stan’s complaints at the moment though, instead off again to see if anybody else was still alive that he could save.
Yet there didn’t seem to be. All the beings around were dead or just barely alive, impossible to save even in the best circumstances. He almost gave up, before a few bullet holes near the door to a building stopped him, opening the door and sticking his head inside for a quick sweep around. It was fortunate he did, because he managed to find another living being in there.
This one wasn’t a human however, but instead a pony. The pony in question had a nasty hoof wound as well as a long but shallow cut on her side. Neither were lethal on their own, but both looked painful, and were just asking to get infected if not dressed. The wound on her forehoof was still bleeding slowly, but the wound on her side had already stopped, probably good for her as her coat was already pretty red from where blood had leaked out of her wound onto her coat.
“S-so many dead. T-the entire squad, it was supposed to be routine…h-how?” She seemed a tad delirious from blood loss, which explained why she was talking to herself. That was probably good, since it meant she would not be in any condition to fight. Last thing he wanted was a shootout. A bandage had apparently been wrapped around her forehoof, badly, but it wouldn’t last much longer. Of course Jacob wasn’t about to let that be the death of her, approaching her slowly and keeping his hands visible to the mare, and beginning to speak to her.
“You’re badly hurt, but you’ll live, assuming I get rid of that shoddy bandage on your hoof. Now you may be purity, but I’m not leaving anybody to die out here, okay? You don’t make trouble for me; I won’t make trouble for you. You shoot me? My friend out there will take care of you. It is beneficial to us both if you just let me treat your hoof.” Jacob seemed to be almost ordering her to accept his help, and it had the desired effect of disorienting her even as she whipped her head around to look at him in panic, letting him get close before she could really react.
“What?” She asked, confused, before waving something wildly in front of her, horn flaring. “S-st-st-stay back human! I’ve s-still g-got some fight in m-me!” She seemed to have been trying for her weapon, but at the moment she was brandishing a box of cereal at him
.
“You need to relax, you’re going to merely hurt yourself doing things like that. I don’t know if you can even see straight.” He waved the box aside, and quickly unwrapped her bandage, blanching slightly at the sight and saying “Quite the hit, but I think I can patch it well enough.” It wouldn’t be hard at all, with any luck on his side. Ponies were a hardy bunch too, so he figured that she’d pull through with just a bit of extra help from him. Which was why he set his pack down, pulled out a syringe, and the Unicorn reacted in shock at the sight.
“S-stay away f-from me with that!” She exclaimed weakly, trying to squirm away even as he moved it towards her.
“It’s a sedative, unless you want me to fish out the bullet while you’re conscious.” Jacob said as he pushed it into her, the unicorn twitching and trying to protest, but quickly falling asleep. It was nice how quickly they worked, Jacob working just as quickly to pull out what he’d need for the surgery, then began to work. He’d fished out a few bullets before…he could do this. Just had to focus, it’d be quick, and then he’d re-bandage, and-
“The fuck are you doing?! Operating on a pony? Don’t you know we just off the bastards?!” Stan’s voice came out, as he whisked around the corner, his gun raised as Jacob sighed at the new distraction. “You some blasted turn coat for them? Operating on the fuckers, converting dying humans…you’re really on their side aren’t you? I should shoot you right now!”
“First of all, I am not on the side of anyone who is causing mass genocide. Far as I’m concerned what they’re all doing is the most heinous crime in human history. However, they’re still beings. Unless you forgot, I’m a doctor. I don’t choose who to operate on. I do what I can to help everyone’s suffering. I can save this one. I’m not going to not treat her.” Jacob said defiantly, still preparing her hoof for the minor operation to dig the bullet out.
“They’re killing us all! They slaughtered all those people out there, just because they were human! How despicable is that?!” Stan said, voice rising. “30 people were alive today! Now every last one of them is dead or converted!”
“And 49 ponies are dead! 49 ponies are dead. They were killed too you know. Hell you finished one of them off! What’s it matter if one of them is left alive? What does it matter in the grand scheme of things? I don’t care who it is! 79 beings died today, because neither side could see the humanity of the other! And, unless you forgot, medics treat both sides. Long as I can, I’m going to stop that total from reaching 80.” Jacob turned at him, telling him all of this with a wide sweeping gesture of his hand, voice firm and unrelenting, as he added, “Now give me ten minutes. I’ll get the bullet out, bandage her up, and you can have a nice purity captain to add to your bag of trophies. You think she’s not worth something? I bet she knows a whole hell of a lot, lot more useful alive than dead!”
This stopped Stan cold, mind already starting to work as he thought of the implications asked quietly, “Purity Captain? You sure? That’d be quite the grab. Not something I’d expect to find out here, but a damn nice catch if we did! “
“Look at the emblem she wears.” Jacob said, motioning towards a nearby patch sewn on her saddlebags, which apparently she had set down. Three stars were emblazoned on it. “Whatever she is, she’s definitely not rank and file purity. Hell, all of purity is their elite, and if she’s leading them she’s got to know plenty.” Stan seemed to ponder this for a while, before snorting again.
“Fine. I can see why this might just be useful. I’m keeping an eye on you though. If you so much as think of doing something funky with that unicorn, both of you are going to take a dirt nap, mark my words. You seem awfully friendly to those ponies.” Stan stated, almost snarling it out as he said it then adding, “I’ll bring the car around here. No reason to drag her all the way back when it seems everyone is dead.” Jacob was relieved when Stan left for the car, quite happy to be alone for this now.
Eventually the bullet was out, took a bit of digging but it came out fairly easily, and the bandage was set soon after. A smile crossed his face as he saw his handiwork, the Unicorn still out cold, but at least breathing regularly, and no longer bleeding. “Ya done?” Stan asked, having moved back and brought the car up in the time it took for him to finish. He hadn’t quite made his 10 minute time.
“Should be, we can take her now.” Jacob said, cleaning his hands gently and then the two positioning themselves to help move her to the car.
“Think she’ll wake up soon?” Stan asked, Jacob giving him another nod as they hefted the unicorn towards the car.
“Only put her under for a good thirty minutes. She’ll still likely be a bit out of it for a while though. She did lose quite a bit of blood, even if the drug will wear off fairly quickly. Still, that’ll just mean her magic won’t be as big a threat. I’d keep your gun ready though.“ Stan smirked and nodded in full agreement on that last bit as they set her down, opening the car door then sliding her into the back seat. Her side wound had been dressed and bandaged as well, so her wounds shouldn’t open up again, though he wasn’t exactly eager to test his work. Stan sat down next to the unicorn, gun trained on her, and Jacob slid behind the wheel again, the engine starting easily as the three took off together.
A silent ten minutes passed as they all left the scene of the fight, pushing on ahead towards their destination. They were all thinking quietly to themselves at this time, though Stan did mutter and poke the unicorn once or twice, before she started to rouse herself. “Urrgh…m-my head…” She said softly, rubbing then wincing in pain as she used the wrong hoof to try and make sense of what was going on.
The groan caused Stan to smirk, nudging her a bit with his gun and saying “Whoah, easy now. You’re our new prisoner here. Jacob here was mighty nice and saved your life. Now I’m here to make sure we get something out of it.”
She didn’t immediately respond to this comment, which was fine with Jacob. He didn’t need to hear an interrogation as he drove, necessary as it might have been. Stan made a few more snarky comments at her expense while waiting for her to get her mind about her more, until he finally asked the unicorn her name. The name made Jacob start in surprise.
“What. Say that name again.” Jacob asked, shaking his head as if he was hearing things as the unicorn repeated herself.
“Silver Streak…why?” She asked, though Jacob’s first response to hearing this was just laughter.
“Silver Streak, on Purity? No. There is no way you’re Silver Streak. That or you share her name. No way.” Jacob shook his head slightly at this, Silver Streak and Stan both baffled at this sudden outburst.
“Okay mind filling me in buddy? I kind of have no idea who the fuck Silver Streak is. You know her?” Stan was obviously a bit wary, squinting slightly at the man in the drivers seat. “Seems awfully suspicious…”
“You could say that. Only worked with her for what, a year and a half?” Jacob replied, shaking his head. “Hell, she and I worked overtime more times than I can remember on that project. Passed out more than once in the laboratory working.”
“W-what…b-but..I never… “ She said at first, though after pausing her eyes shot wide open in shock. “J-jacob?!?” Silver Streak asked her voice incredulous. “N-no…y-you’re dead!”
“Sure doesn’t act dead that’s for sure.” Stan replied, giving a short laugh at hearing that, “Oh, this is rich. So you do know each other! Maybe that’s why you saved her? And now you’re also a dead man walking? Oh this really is rich! It’s like a fucking soap opera over here. Was she your wife? Girlfriend?” Jacob made a note to ignore this, as he kept his eyes on the road ahead of him, replying instead to Silver Streak.
“Dead? Hah, not quite. It was awfully good cover though. You would have picked me up and made me drink that potion if I had been home with my family. Tell me, did you force it down my daughter’s throat? Or did you let her drink it herself if she was a good girl?” His voice held the heavy sound of venom in it, something that seemed surprising for the otherwise friendly doctor.
“W-what? What does it matter?.” Silver Streak said, saying “I was there. After you were reported as dead she didn’t even resist. More pressing, how are you alive?” Jacob ignored her for a moment, wondering if what she said was true. Would she have resisted? Probably not…he had been said to have died.
“Turns out not everyone boards a plane on time. The better question is, what the hell Silver Streak?!? Purity? They’re murderers!” Jacob spat the last bit, adding “Might as well call them the SS and get it the hell over with!”
“Honestly I still don’t know how the hell you two even know each other, let alone why Jacob should be dead!” Stan’s voice held a note of amusement even as he asked his questions, seeing the two trade harsh words was amusing; especially with how unflappable Jacob had seemed to be.
“You don’t know who he is? You said his name. Dr Jacob MacArthur. If I’m not mistaken, he was kind of well thought of in human circles for a while!” Silver Streak smirked a little at that, as Jacob sighed.
“…That Jacob MacArthur?” Stan asked quietly.
“Yeah.” Jacob said quietly, nodding a little bit and saying “That one. Lead Researcher on the Ponification Potion. I oversaw it all, not to mention the nanite magic combination was the product of my handiwork. It’s fair to say we’d not have this mess without me.”
“Mess? You certainly didn’t think of it as a mess back then! Hell, you were ecstatic, saying things like it’s the greatest invention in human history, and I am proud to have been part of it, all sorts of stuff. I’m proud to have worked with you, and the world’s finally getting to heal from the scars of humanity! How can you call this a mess?” Silver Streak’s voice was very strong for a mare who had been recently drugged, it was wearing off fairly quickly, that or perhaps she’d not been as hurt as Jacob had thought. “You should be ashamed!”
“Ashamed? Ashamed?! No. I am not ashamed of what I made. What I did was a scientific marvel. I created something that saved lives. Gave people new life, new happiness, new hope. I am not, I will not be ashamed of that. But I am disgusted that my name will be associated with the greatest genocide in history! You took something I made to make all of our lives better, and used it for war! Used it to pervert and remove the rights of those who merely wanted to live their perfectly peaceful lives their own way! That I am ashamed of.” Jacob hissed, adding “Any being with half a conscience should be ashamed of that!”
Stan had been nodding along with Jacob by the end of his little rant, a smirk on his face as he said “Hah, I remember reading about it. Thought it was all a load of crock, yet hell, it worked. Saw one of my friends regrow a limb when he became a pony, Nathan was the happiest then I’d ever seen him since he lost it on his tour of duty. Nearly signed myself up then, though I’m glad I didn’t now. “
Silver Streak however, was not having any of this as they talked, gesturing weakly with her bad hoof and saying to them both, “Oh, you two aren’t looking at this right at all! This isn’t genocide! How could you call it such a terrible term? Have you ever met a pony that has regretted or hated it’s new body? Have you ever met anypony who genuinely hates having been changed and shifted?” Silver Streak shook her head, saying “It's more like an enlightening than anything!”
Stan curled his lip up at that, about to trade some hard words about enlightening her to life, but Jacob actually beat him to it. “Enlightening? Oh, so you’re like the English, when they destroyed the Native Americans to “enlighten” the savages? Or when we drove them off their land and killed them when they didn’t want to be enlightened, all the while assuring ourselves we were doing them a favor? And of course in public none of the “enlightened” savages ever complained did they, no, they’d been nicely indoctrinated!” Jacob’s voice just dripped with a heavy sarcasm as he gave a snort, taking a breath now and giving a short laugh.
“And even, even if you had really cared to convert us all, why violently? Surely all us petty humans would have seen the glorious pony light after a while! Or is ponydom not that much different than humanity?”
“You…that is not the same!” Silver Streak said, gasping. “You can’t believe we’re like y- them! We’re nothing like them! We’re really doing this for your best interest! People are happier as ponies. There’s so much less strife, and unhappiness! Depression rates are low among ponies. Crimes are low as well, violent crime nearly nonexistent! Life is better for a pony by almost every means of measuring!”
“Quality of life for a well adjusted human and a well adjusted pony are nearly the same. Ponies score higher in the long term over depression, this is true, but the difference is not that great! Is that worth eradicating the human race? Violent crime was at a ten year high before the conversion movement, and you know how many people were murdered in the united states for every hundred thousand? Thirty.” He snorted slightly, saying “Again, is this enough to justify eradicating the human race? Perhaps violent crime of all sorts is nearly negligible among ponies, perhaps they report slightly higher quality of life…yet is this worth the genocide, yes, genocide, of all of humanity!?” To say there was passion in Jacob’s voice was almost an understatement. Half the time he seemed like he might start screaming.
“This isn’t genocide Jacob! Its not! Its…its not!” Silver Streak replied, almost pleading as she made her own argument, saying, “Ponies don’t war! Ponies don’t kill each other, we don’t fight we don’t have terrorists, none of that! We’re bringing global peace! I know we both want that! You’re a pacifist! I know you are! How can you not want this?!” Silver Streak blinked a few more times, saying “Unless you’ve changed whi-“
Jacob cut her off mid accusation with his own sharp retort, telling her, “I have yet to kill a single person. I’ve lived on the run for 3 months, and I’ve yet to kill a single person. I’ve saved humans countless times. I’ve saved ponies sometimes, when I could. I am a doctor. I do believe in global peace. But what you promise is not peace, but eradication!” He snorted slightly, adding “How about you? Do you believe in peace? While killing humans on purity?! Can you really even TALK to me about peace?! You’re with those murderers! You always seemed so nice. You wanted peace, you treated everyone kindly, you didn’t disrespect one researcher, even when they said your magic was bogus! And now you’re out MURDERING?!”
“L-look! I w-wasn’t there to m-murder anyone! I was just…just logistics…I was just helping co-ordinate…I d-didn’t…I didn’t want to s-shoot anyone really!” Silver streak seemed on the verge of tears again, Stan smirking a little at seeing that.
“Ah, so the ponies rationalize too. Ain’t so different after all. Gotta tell yourself lots of little lies so you can sleep at night eh?” Stan’s voice cut in-between the two, not about to pass up the chance to dig into a pony.
"It’s not rationalizing! And it’s not genocide! And it’s not that we’re not like you! We’re j-just…less…aggressive. And- and we’re not the type to war, and we don’t…” She stopped talking halfway though, looking down as Jacob laughed.
“Not aggressive, yet start a war. Not genocide, yet you’re killing off humanity for being human. Not like us, yet you use our weapons, use our tactics, act like our ancestors! You may not be carbon copies but you are certainly close. “
“L-look!” Silver Streak said, blinking for a moment and taking a deep breath. “Maybe…maybe its genocide, and-and maybe we’re not so different, but then why is it you keep using human allusions to what we’re doing? Ponies don’t have a world war one, let alone a world war two! We don’t have terrorists who bomb buildings, or ponies who murder from jealousy or hate! What we’re doing…we’re stopping war! We’re ending pain and suffering! Ponies co-operate on most things! We work together, we build better societies that don’t pollute the world, that don’t exploit and destroy other beings!”
“So you're saying it’s a case of strike first before they decide to strike back is it? Pre-emptive destruction of the human race? Eh, not too shabby a plan. Ruthlessly effective, and doesn’t care about the casualties! Perfectly rational, humans have a bad history, so, why take the chances, waste them all to be sure. Hell. I’ve heard people say that before.” Stan came in with this, Silver Streak sputtering for a moment to respond to that before Jacob hopped right back in.
“Yeah. Maybe you’re right. Maybe us humans are all despicable creatures that only shoot others and kill and maim and burn. Yeah, that’s a good reason, lots of scumbag humans, enough reason to eradicate the human race. Judge us all for the sins of our ancestors. Hell, not like any of them were better than that.” Jacob said all of this with a slowly growing passion in his voice, but it was here that it started to really ramp up, each sentence louder and more forceful than then next.
“Not like any of them were doctors who fought to save lives. Or civil rights leaders who tried to fight for their brethren for no reason other than it was the right thing to do. Not like there’s people who try to never kill another, even in the face of their own death, or suffer torture to bring a brighter future to those yet to come! Not like there are those who fight tirelessly to end a wrong for no reason other than there’s a wrong that needs righting!” Jacob paused here now, sighing slightly as he took a deep breath and calmed himself, voice soon dropping back to its normal volume, and finishing with a soft “But then, if that were the case. Then you wouldn’t have me.” Jacob finished quietly, shaking his head.
Silver Streak bit her lip for a moment or two, looking down and then saying softly “Your…you’re not the norm Jacob. You know you’re not the norm. I’ve seen you argue with your fellow scientists. You stood up for us, when others thought us crazy. Hell, you studied harder than any to learn equestrian history, and your working with us to learn how magic worked was part of the reason why you were so crucial to the team. But you are not normal! All those good people aren’t the normal! They’re exceptional, they’re special. Ponies, we never had those. Because we never needed them, we never had a culture that needed civil rights leaders! Isn’t that saying something right there?!”
“I think you’re wrong. I don’t think those people are the exception. Ordinary people do extraordinary things, when they set their minds to it. And maybe that’s how we differ. I believe we could have co-operated. Ponies. Humans. We could have worked together. Our greatest marvel was a joint project. But that choice isn’t ours anymore. And once more something wonderful was used to do the unthinkable.” Jacob sighed, then said quietly “Least I can put a stop to this one.”
Silver’s entire body perked as she heard that, head darting up as she said “What…stop It? You mean, stop the ponification potion? How? You can’t! There’s no….” Her voice dropped off and her expression changed from one of surprise to horror, gasping out in shock. “O-oh no. N-no…y-you can’t do that. Y-you’re going to flip the kill switch…you can’t! Please Jacob you can’t do that!”
“Kill switch? Stop the potion? What the hell is she talking about Jacob, What the hell is going on?” Stan asked, flicking his hand as he gestured towards the pony with his gun and saying “I’ve not heard this plan of yours before!”
“Can’t? Can’t?! Oh, I can. And I will. Silver Streak, you may not think it such, but it is. Its genocide, written in the blood of millions, with my invention to blame. I can’t just sit by and allow that. I doubt you could do the same, let some human get hurt or- Oh. Wait. You can.” His voice held a bitter note as he said, that, telling her “You may have sold your soul but I still have mine.”
“T-that’s not how this is Jacob! I’m…I didn’t! I haven’t killed anyone! I really haven’t! Don’t…I’m not a murderer!” She said, a pleading sound in her voice. “Don’t do this! Please! It’ll undo my work, your work! We worked so hard to make this possible!”
“…Never killed anyone?” Jacob said quietly, before sighing. “I would say you were on purity, but I travelled with others who shot ponies. I guess that would make me as guilty as any other by that standard. Yet I tried to use nonviolence in every way. When I shot somepony, they got back up an hour later, the same being as when they laid down. Can you say that?”
Silver Streak shook her head gently, holding her head up as she said defiantly. “I did convert others. But it was for their own good.”
“And of course you know exactly what is for their own good. I…I thought you were better than that. I had hoped you’d all be better than that.” Jacob’s voice was low and quiet, a deep disappointment and sorrow filling it.
“Oh, you’re just so high and mighty aren’t you! Saying we’re so bad, like you’re perfect! Not all of us are such zealots! Maybe not all of us are as strong as you are!” Silver Streak said back, adding “Maybe not all of us believe in such high principles, but in reality!” Silver lashed out, obviously driven too far by the constant back and forth.
“I think I have every right to be disappointed and angry. You took my invention and used it for genocide. You eradicate all humans because we’re monsters, even though you’re more like us than you want to admit. Maybe what you’re doing is for the greater good. But that is the justification of dictators who’ve ran out of ways to face the music, used to justify the unjustifiable. Say what you want. Call me haughty, call me whatever you goddam want. I believed in you all. I believed you when you said you came for peace. And you just used me to your own ends.” Again, his voice sounded betrayed, and hurt, quiet and filled with a black sorrow and anger. “Well no more. You cannot stop me, dissuade me, not as long as I have my hands and the will to use them. Your empty promises of peace won’t fool me anymore.”
“Please…Jacob. We were friends once. Don’t do this.” Silver Streak asked again, looking at his for a good long moment. Jacob met her gaze for a little while, turning to face her, to study her face, her eyes scared, and his just sad. Then he shook his head, and turned away, back to the road.
“Maybe once we were best friends. But your species drew the line. I don’t think we can be anymore. Maybe if we still were, you could stop me. But…not anymore.”
Silver Streak gave a weak little gulp at this point, Stan’s face utterly bemused at this sudden trade of emotion between two beings he had sworn hated each other. Silver then said quietly, a soft sad little voice coming from her, “I…I’m sorry. When…when you become a pony, you’ll understand. And…and then we can be friends again.”
“Maybe. If I fail, maybe it’ll happen. Maybe we can be friends again, like we were. But until then? I guess we have to be enemies.”
“We…we don’t have to be. You’re not my enemy.” Silver Streak said quietly, saying “Even all purity isn’t your enemy. Just tell them who you are, they’ll take you in. I know they will. Celestia wants you alive, it came as a great blow that you were dead.”
“Well. Until I activate the killswitch, I’ll keep that in mind. Don’t go around with purity anymore Silver. You’re not that kind of pony. You’re better than that. Besides, next human that finds you wounded probably won’t patch you up.” Jacob told her this, the car turning around a bend as they continued to race towards his destination.
“I can’t let you do that. You know I ha-“ Silver Streak said, though Stan had been waiting for this moment it seemed.
With a wide grin, he shoved the barrel of the gun hard against her temple, and said “Oh? Can’t let us do what? I think you’re forgetting who the one with the big gun is here missie. Now you’re bestie Jacob over there with the ol heart of gold might not be willing to pull this trigger, but he ain’t me. I’ve seen plenty of you guys convert or kill my friends. I’m not going to hesitate if you try to hurt me or him.”
It seemed to come as a bit of a shock to Silver, whose entire expression shifted from sad to scared, as if the argument had distracted her from how she was indeed held captive by a man with quite a big gun. “I-I see.” She said quietly, nodding. “What do you plan on doing with me then?”
“Well, first, we’re going to see what you tell voluntarily, and then we’re going to start with the hoof that’s already been wounded and see how long it takes until you squeal more, then from there we’ll-“
“We are not torturing her!” Jacob said, shaking his head slightly and making Stan groan. “I don’t care what reasons you have for doing it we’re not torturing her!”
“We’re? Oh, you may not be, but I am. You better believe I’m going to make this pretty thing squea-“ However his voice was interrupted by both a hard bump that jarred the car, and Silver Streak taking advantage of this moment.
Her horn flared to life when the gun was sent jerking about, and suddenly his hands were slammed against the window. With a scream of pain his hands lost control of the gun, spasming and letting Silver take control of the gun. Jacob was of course, was confused as to what the hell was going on, but Silver made it abundantly clear when she fired a shot quite accurately past Stan’s ear, shattering the window and yelling “STOP THE CAR OR HE GETS IT!” Everyone’s ears rang from the shot, but even with the roaring wind it was hard to misunderstand her.
Jacob didn’t know what to say to that. Had…had she really just hijacked the car? Hell, she was recovering astonishingly fast all things considered. That or the torture comment had really scared her. “I’m stopping the car…let's not do anything rash here…”
The car’s engine slowed, then stopped, and she brandished the gun again, saying “Get out!”
Stan was not stupid, and neither was Jacob, and from how edgy and scared the mare seemed to be, neither of them wanted to question if she’d really shoot them. Perhaps she’d not had the guts last time, but she had the gun, and she’d already shot once. Jacobs ears still rang from that.
Stan exited the door with the broken window on the right while Jacob quietly took the fob and exited the door on the left. Stan had his hands up, while Silver dragged herself as best she could with a wiggle out of the car and her wounded hoof just barely supporting her weight enough to stand with the gun brandished. “Don-don’t you try anything! I’m not going to g-get tortured, or let you stop the potion!” She couldn’t, even if shooting them seemed hard for her to swallow.
“I’m not gonna do nothin’….” Stan said, shaking his head. “Honest…” He certainly wasn’t when an angry mare was holding the gun, brandishing it at him again.
“No-no you’re not!” She told him, Jacob walking slowly over towards them both. His walk was slow as he tried his best to think of something to do, but nothing came to him, at least, not immediately. It was ony when he was approaching that he got an idea, tripping soon after on a rock and catching himself as he grunted, and Silver gasped, turning for a moment to face Jacob, then whipping her head back as Stan jerked towards her, the gun smacking his head as the barrel was pressed up to him.
“I WILL SHOOT!” She practically screamed, twitching slightly as the mixture of fear, pain, and medication was making for a particularly unstable mare. “I will!” Of course it was a tad ironic she said that then, as Jacob at that moment already had. The taser he’d gotten earlier that day proved its use, as he fired the round, her reactions too slow to stop it from hitting her. It hit solidly, causing her entire body to jerk erratically, fore and hind legs twitching about helplessly as her white fur smacked into the road, rest of her following suit.
Stan didn’t take any chances with this. The moment she was free, Stan had the gun, and was pointing it at her, grinning maliciously as he said “Haha, say goodnight you pony basta-“ At which point, he too, would get to feel what it was like to get taken out by a powerful taser. Jacob’s body rebelling against him as his limbs convulsed, sending him down onto the ground as Jacob holstered his weapon and gave a mighty sigh.
“No one is killing anybody.” Jacob said to the two twitching forms, shaking his head and adding, “Not on my watch.” That was as much as he had to say about that though, as now he had two rather unconscious souls to deal with. A sigh escaped him as he looked at the two still twitching and said to himself, “What am I going to do with you two?”
= = = = = = = = = = = =
Stan groaned slightly as his eyes opened, muscles still weak from the taser. It’d been one of those incapacitating ones, from what he could tell, least it felt like that. He’d kind of lost all track of things after it hit, mind kind of blanked for a while. Hell, to be honest he didn’t even know where he was, sitting upright. Well, it seemed a bed was the first place he was, looking around and shaking his head.
“Fuck you Jacob. Fuck you.” His opinion on Jacob was quite succinct, but honest, sighing as he wondered if the bastard had taken all his stuff. Then again, one he looked over, he saw his pack, and his gun, set neatly next to a wall, and he frowned a little. “Huh…least he left my stuff…” He moved to brush himself off, this action leading him to notice a piece of paper taped to his chest.
“The fuck?” He asked himself, pulling it off as he started to scan over it, then sighed. Looks like Jacob had left him a goodbye note, huffing and nearly crumpling it up, though he eventually stopped himself and read it.
Stan. I have to apologize for this, but I couldn’t just let her die. Doubted you’d want anything to do with me after that, so I dropped you off in a nearby town. Don’t worry, Silver’s nowhere near you, so she won’t be trying to bother you. To be honest, you were probably right to want to kill her. I don’t blame you. I just couldn’t let it happen. Just keep moving west. If I stop it, the safe ring will only go so far, and hell, even if I fail there are less ponies out west. Better shot at living. Thanks for the help. Don’t die.
Sincerely,
Dr Jacob MacAuthur
After he finished scanning over the letter, Stan could only huff slightly and shake his head, now crumpling it though his mood had shifted somewhat. “Crazy bastard. Still, if he succeeds, guess I can forgive him.” If he didn’t, well, he might end up shooting him anyway. Win for him either way. Though now he had to figure out where to go. West seemed reasonable, but hell, they’d get there too. Maybe he should just leave. Head out into the woods. Yeah, that could work, live out there quietly. Find a few people, just be loners out in the woods. He could do that. Better than being some stinking pony.
Soon enough Stan had picked up his backpack, slung it across his shoulders, and held his rifle once again, nodding a bit and saying “Don’t you worry. I’m not going to die anytime soon.” Those ponies still had hell to pay.
= = = = = = = = = = = =
Silver Streak groaned heavily as her vision swam. Ugh…she had no idea where she was. She just remembered holding the gun with her magic, waving it at that Stan brute, and then all this pulsing electricity. Taser no doubt, she’d seen them used once or twice before it all went south. Buck. They really took it out of you it seemed. A slight stretch soon reminded her of her injuries, wincing a bit more before she shook her head, and looked down at her hoof. Bandaged…right. Jacob had done that.
Silver Streak sighed a little bit more as she shifted, her vision steadying as she regained herself after the powerful shock. “Gah…I had him. I could have shown him the light, showed him…he would make such a wonderful pony. He’s already almost like one, so noble and sacrificing…he’d be amazing.” She looked around again, horn flaring as she realized there was a little pile of stuff gathered for her, with a note on it. It was a tad bit difficult, but soon enough she’d floated it over, and started to read it.
Silver Streak,
Don’t try to come after me. By now, its been a good 30 minutes, and I’ve driven off plenty far enough you’d have trouble catching me. Besides, you don’t even know the route I’m going on. So just…turn back. I don’t want you to try and chase me, and get yourself killed. You don’t belong in purity. You’re better than that. I…I hope you’re better than that. I still remember when we went to see that aerial show together. Wonderbolts and fighter planes. It was a fantastic show. One of the best. Made me think that maybe this whole pony and human thing could work out.
Looks like I was just a naïve fool again. Same as those talks about world peace, and happiness. Looks like there’s none of that for me in this life, not with how my life, and my goals, are going. So don’t die. Don’t go back to purity. Really. You’re better than that. And you’re worth too much to die for some stupid pointless conflict.
-Dr Jacob Macarthur
Silver Streak sighed again as she finished it, resting her head down on the sheet of paper and saying softly “Jacob…why can’t you see? Its for the best…really. When everyone’s a pony, there won’t be any need for war, and fighting…if you all just let us convert you, this wouldn’t happen…”
She shook her head again, and rolled over, staring up at the wall. She’d have to contact purity. Let Celestia know. Jacob wasn’t dead after all. Probably start a major manhunt for him, Every purity squad west of the Mississippi would be told to look out for him. They’d get him. Then…then silver streak could talk to him again. She had missed him so.
= = = = = = = = = = = =
Jacob shivered slightly as the cold wind blew though the shattered window of the car, whipping up a chill current in the cool night air. He’d be pulling into a new city soon, hopefully with no purity in it. He’d have to pick a promising place, canvas it for keys. He was pretty sure he could find a good set somewhere, hopefully. Some apartment with lax security, easy to crack into.
It was sad really. Here he’d had a companion, found an old friend, and lost them both. Neither of them would meet up again, hopefully, at least not if he had anything to say about it. He’d not seen another group of purity so far or any lone stragglers from a group, meaning the last four hours of the drive had been long, dull ones. Cold too.
“300 more miles. Assuming they don’t get me.” Jacob told himself, resolving himself towards his task with another bout of grim determination. Maybe this wouldn’t do much. Maybe he couldn’t stop it all, maybe he’d end up doing nothing but making the conflict all the more lethal and violent.
But he still had two hands. He still had two feet. He still had the will to drive towards Colorado Springs, and do whatever he had to, in order to set right what he’d done. He’d kill his invention, his masterwork, his greatest pride, if it meant stopping it. His greatest work, his magnum opus, his grand symphony of science.
He just hadn’t expected to pen a requiem.