Fallout Equestria: The Bodies we Leave Below

CHAPTER TWO: Ground Pounders

“What’s the difference between a ground pounder and the crap he takes? The crap smells better...”

It happened during lunch the very next day.

The ship’s galley was both noisy and smelly; we could thank our shitbag culinary specialists for the latter. They could make some decent food, but on most days—like today—the food was garbage.

Masher made a face as he stuck a spoonful of rice into his maw, quickly spitting it back out on his plate. I had at least had the decency to spit into a napkin after my first bite.

“Yep,” I commented, stirring the small white specks about with my fork, “Today’s one of the days when the CS’s say: ‘hey, I’ve got a wonderful idea!’” I continued as Masher pawed at his tongue, “‘How about we take all our salt, and I mean fucking all of it, and dump it into the rice!’”

“Mm-hm,” Masher spat again.

It was then that the 1MC squawked to life: “General quarters, general quarters! All hooves, mount your battle stations!”

“Aw shit!” The buck next to me, another crewpony named Dusty Day, choked on his drink as we all hopped to our hooves and rushed off as the announcement repeated.

“The hell is going on!?” someone rushing with us cried out.

“Not a clue!” I shouted back.

Somewhere deep down in the bowels of our ship, the engine thrummed to life.

“Hey! Hey! You guys hear!?” a mare that joined us from a branching p-way called as she joined our rush, “High General Harbinger went on a diplomatic mission below the clouds, equinitarian aid to the ground pounders or some shit!”

“Who the hell cares?” a buck behind me called back.

“It’s why we’re in general quarters, dipshit!” the mare growled back at him, not losing pace. “When he arrived, it was a trick and the ground pounders balefired him! Took out four raptors!”

“They balefired a High General!?” a mare ahead of me exclaimed, incredulous.

“Who!? Who fucking did it!?” Masher snarled from beside me.

“Nopony knows! Think it was some slaver terrorist on the surface or something. In any case, from what I hear, we’re going to teach those ground pounders a lesson!”

* * * * *

Senior Chief Air Sergeant Icy Blitz called muster for our division. Chief Whisper had to join her snarling shouts with his before the hushed hubbub was silenced.

“Thank you, Chief,” he addressed Whisper, then turned his eyes to the rest of us, “I’m sure all you stupid fuckers have questions! Shut the flying fuck up and I’ll fucking answer them, capisce!?” He glared about as we gave him our undivided attention, “Nearly an hour ago, we got sensor readings that some fucker on the ground lit off a balefire bomb, right beneath the Raptors Intangible, Blue Dawn, Circinus, and Wind Rider, which were on a diplomatic mission—”

“Senior Chief! Please tell me there were—” some dumbass in the back began to cry out.

“Hey, how about you lock it the fuck up before I pound your ass into a fucking paste, you fuck!” Senior Chief Blitz butted back in, “We don’t fucking know if there were any survivors, but we’ve got cloudships going in to check it the fuck out. In any case, the Council’s deciding what the fuck to do, and we’re officially on FPCON Delta. Colonel wants us on one minute standby until further notice, so get your lot of scrawny, fucking asses to the hangar and get those skytanks prepped! Fly steady and fall out!”

* * * * *

It didn’t take long to get to the hangar, different crew teams heading to their respective vehicles. Ours was further forward, a Type VIII Model B, designated the “Harrier.” It was a dedicated ground attack variant with a hundred thirty millimeter magical plasma cannon mounted on the top and BaWS—Beam-emitter Weapon System—banks on both sides. Her internal compartment was crammed with fuel cells and fire control computers. She could fit eight ponies maximum, giving the four of us just enough space to be comfortable.

Masher slapped the controls and the rear door opened with a hydraulic hum. He stepped forwards, inserting his wings into the driver’s control slots and starting up our skytank. Just ahead of me, Breeze strapped herself into the seat facing the BaWS bank controls while I took my seat at the controls for the main gun.

Chief Whisper stepped aboard with a signature glare, looking over all of us as she moved to the commander’s periscope. After a few short seconds a soft hum sounded off as our engine started up, lifting with a hiss as clouds were formed beneath us.

“Driver, online,” Masher reported, “Propulsion good, hydraulics good…” I tuned him out as he began to read off the skytank’s status.

“BaWS online,” Breeze said. I heard a soft whirring from outside as she toyed with the emitter banks, aiming them about before checking different readouts, “We’re cold, but everything checks out.”

“Keep us cold, don’t want any blue on blue,” Whisper said, “Gunner?”

That was me.

I finished strapping myself in, inserting my wings into their own slots and setting a hind hoof against the firing lever. With a few forehoof taps I had my own screen lit, a louder whir sounding as I twisted my wings and saw the view pan around, “Gunner online, cold, all’s well,” I said, flipping through my filters. The day-television camera was working fine, the night vision gave me a blinded, green screen, and the infrared gave me inverted white- and black-hot images before I went back to DTV. With a few taps I confirmed my fire control systems were operating normally.

“Roger, all online, all good,” Whisper called back, before tapping at her earbloom and reporting in that we were ready. Around the hangar bay, different skytanks and chariot craft were hovering in place, weapons moving about as their controllers tested them.

Now, we played the waiting game.

* * * * *

We were relaxed back to thirty minute standby and itching for a fight by the time our specific orders were finally passed down. The Overcast was headed to the Everfree forest. While intelligence seemed unable to make up their mind (as it seemed they always did), they assessed that the assassination of High General Harbinger was likely commited by the ground pounder known as Red Eye.

His citadel in the Everfree forest was our target.

* * * * *

“Oh, yeah!” Masher yelled as we rushed through the p-ways to the glorious sound of music, “Flight of the Motherfucking Shadowbolts!”

The 1MC crackled to life, the distinct voice of Colonel Autumn Leaf rising above the music. “This is it, ponies. This is the moment all your training and all your experience has prepared you for.” As we rushed with the flow, I felt adrenaline surging through me, the music and steely voice of our commanding officer getting me pumped. “This is the battle you were born for. It’s time to separate the pegasi from the griffins.”

“Yeah!” Masher roared beside me as we rounded a bend.

“It’s time to kick Red Eye’s ass, and teach him that crossing the Enclave, murdering our brothers and sisters, was his ultimate folly.”

“Fuck you, Red Eye!” Masher yelled out, hopping in the air and getting return calls from a few ponies rushing with us.

“We fight in the name of every pegasus ignominiously massacred in the Splendid Valley sneak attack…” We finally made it to the hangar, rushing to our skytank. Standing at the back, glaring out with the smoky yellow sky silhouetting her stood Chief Whisper. The sight of her, hard faced and resolute made my trousers a little tight. I would’ve kissed her full on right then and there if not for frat policy, “We fight in the name of our loved ones, our home and our Enclave!”

“C’mon!” she yelled when she spotted us, ducking back in after Masher. The hatch whirred shut behind us, “We’re gonna be late for the war.”

I threw myself into my controls, training taking over as I got my monitor online and my gun hot. Oh, yeah! Battle-boner activate! “Gunner, online and hot.”

“Roger that, all online,” Chief called back, twisting in her periscope, “Driver, take us out, fly steady!”

“Fly steady, hoorah!” Masher pumped his wings, lifting us up off the deck and out into the thick of it.

Skytanks and chariots and individual armored pegasi battled it out with alicorns amid bursts of triple-A fire spitting up from below. I eyed the battle through my cameras, switching to the alien landscape provided by my IR cameras. Other vessels swirled about, firing down and—was that a fucking dragon battling Raptors!?

“BaWS, free to fire, gunner standby for targets!” Whisper called from beside me before I could comment.

“BaWS copies!” Breeze called back, the hydraulic whirring of her weapons mixing with the zorching sounds as she opened up.

“Gunner standing by!” I called, waiting for orders.

“Tracer stream, small arms, it’ll deflect,” Masher reported, a stream of red dots racing up to meet us.

“Gunner, fly steady!” Whisper called back, “Gunner! Pillbox bearing—”

Whisper’s call turned to a pained cry as the small arms fire hit the skytank and passed right through our armor. The supersonic cracks made me jump in my harness as the rounds zipped past me.

“What the fuck!” Masher yelled, my guts lurching as he pulled us into a sharp turn away from the bullet stream.

“Ow, sh-shit!” Whisper cried out, blood seeping into her uniform in spite of a lack of physical holes in the cloud-fabric.

“Shit! Chief’s hit!” I cried out, reaching for my restraints and—

“No! Fuck!” Whisper waved me off, tearing out a healing potion and gulping it down. Her bleeding beginning to subside, “J-just a flesh wound...they passed clean through! How...”

“What just happened?” Masher called from the cockpit, glancing back over his withers as he twisted his wings, avoiding another stream of tracers.

“Don’t know, they must have some sort of magic...wind-blasted…” she searched for a word to describe what had just happened, “Armor negation rounds or something.” She hopped back into the commander’s seat, glaring through her periscope. “Driver! Armor’s worthless, go for full mobility!”

“Full mobility! Roger that!” Masher called back. Normally his job would be to position our more armored front and belly towards enemy positions, trading mobility for armor. But if our armor was worthless, then that hardly mattered.

“All right, let’s get some for the High General!” Whisper growled.

Before I could comment further on the matter, Whisper started calling out targets, drawing me back to my gunsights. “Gunner! MG nest! Two-five-two! Seven hundred meters!” Whisper called to me, “Give ‘em a supercharge!”

I shifted my wings, the turret’s motors whirring above me as the gunsight came to two-five-two. I elevated, finding the machine gun nest. Tracers spat out from it, slicing up towards a couple juking bombing chariots, “Eyes on!” I called, getting the firing solution, and tapping in the command for a supercharged round with a hoof. A set of numbers ran up towards one hundred—“Charging!”—the numbers hit a hundred, flashing from red to green. “Charged!”

“Fire!” Whisper commanded.

I stomped the firing lever and the skytank shivered as it discharged a massive, glowing burst of magical energy. The round blinded my infrared sensors briefly as it zipped forth, shrinking away. A white flare engulfed my target, slagging it in an instant.

“He’s dead!” Whisper called it. “Shift aim to two-three-five! Triple A! Five hundred meters! Area effect round!”

I found the new target, loading an area effect round, “Loaded! Ready to fire!”

“Fire!”

The skytank thrummed as it gave birth yet again, the round zipping out and flashing bright white on my sensors. The gun and ponies around it flashed into glowing goop when it hit and detonated.

“Tracer stream!” Masher called from the cockpit, “Brace for evasive maneuvers!”

My view of the destroyed triple A position turned to that of the cloud curtain as Masher twisted in his controls, spiralling and diving. I did a quick check of my systems: the supercharge had heavily heated the focusing gem and emitter system, but it was still far from the red.

“Aw, shit!” I heard Masher call, “This might—” he was cut off by a duet of supersonic cracks and the skytank jerked suddenly to the side.

“Driver!?” Whisper called out, glancing back. I followed her gaze, spotting Masher slumped across his controls, a great, red splatter covering one side of them. “Oh, fuck!” Whisper slipped from her controls, zipping to Masher.

“How is he!?” Breeze called out, not looking away as she returned fire with our BaWS banks, smaller pulses of magical energy flying back at the target.

“He’s...oh, shit! Not good!” she grabbed him, tugging back to get him clear of the controls. We continued to spiral downwards, the ground rushing up to meet us. I gulped.

“Pull up! Pull up!” the automated warning system called out.

“I know! I know!” Whisper yelled back, dragging Masher’s body away from the controls as we continued our death plunge. I pulled my restraints tighter around myself, hoping against hope that she’d get to the controls in time.

She didn’t.

“Damnit! We’re not going to—” she cried out, twisting herself in the controls in an effort to right the vehicle. My guts lurched downwards, vision tunneling from the powerful G-forces. Through the viewport I saw the ground rushing up to meet us...too fast, “Brace for shock!” she yelled.

We hit the dirt.

Gravity flung me in every direction at once, my restraints the only thing keeping me from splattering against the bulkheads of the skytank. Stars exploded across my vision and copper filled my nostrils as something smashed into me, making me eat my controls as metal screamed and screeched around us.

Somepony screamed, or was that me? I didn’t know as metal groaned and we tumbled end over end, my stomach rising up in my throat as I resisted the urge to puke. I could make sense of nothing but a blur of gray metal and bright buttons, giving a silent prayer that this wouldn’t end us.

It took me a few moments to comprehend when we’d finally stopped, my dizziness making the world spin. It took me a few more moments to realize that I was still alive. Frantically, I felt all over myself: snout? Check. Four hooves? Check. Wings? Check. Balls? Check.

‘Probably shoulda checked that last one first,’ I thought, pulling my hoof away from my crotch and fumbling with my restraint release, ‘Wings or hooves, I could live without. But the family jewels—’

The restraints snapped open and I immediately fell into the far bulkhead of our apparently tipped-over skytank. An ‘oof!’ escaped me as I impacted something too soft to be the armored interior. Why was it so soft?

“Gravity...why!?” I mumbled, lying there for a moment, “We were friends!”

Hefting myself to my hooves and wobbling there a moment I looked down to what I’d landed on.

I screamed.

Masher was most certainly not good. He’d taken two bullets to the cranium. The one that had spattered his brains against the controls had clipped off his ear and a goodly portion of the top left side of his head, spots of bloody gray showing through the wound. The second had shattered the left side of his jaw where it met his skull, dislocating it and giving his corpse a disturbing slack jawed look. He lay below me, bent over a bulkhead locker, leaking blood and brains everywhere.

I couldn’t help but shiver, gagging and retching as I fluttered a quick retreat, butt hitting the deck of our crashed vessel. From the smell and a stain on the hind end of his trousers he’d soiled himself, I’d heard dead bodies did that, but…

Dead bodies…

It struck me suddenly, like a gust of icy wind: he was dead! Masher was dead!

“Oh! Oh, sweet skies, no!” I cried out. No, no! He couldn’t be dead! He...he…

“Shit, ow!” a voice drew my gaze away as I spotted Breeze rubbing one shoulder. One of her eyes was bloody and she had a small cut on her snout, but other than that her restraints had kept her safe. She looked over from her controls, meeting my eyes, “You okay?” her eyes fell on Masher’s corpse, “Masher?”

“He...he…” I hiccuped, eyes darting from his body to Breeze. It was only then I spotted Chief Whisper, “Oh, no, no! Chief!” I stumbled over to where she lay.

A shard of metal had been peeled away from the pilot’s controls and now stabbed clean through her back and out her left side, far off center. She was breathing, but shallowly, and I reported her rapid pulse when I pressed a hoof to her jaw.

“Is she...” Breeze slipped from her restraints, trotting hesitantly to me.

“Sh-she’s alive, b-but…” I stuttered, unable to form words.

“Damnit!” Breeze snarled, “Damnit!” she kicked at the bulkhead, hopping quickly to the commander’s seat and grabbing the radio controls. She hesitantly clicked them on, ready to flick them back off if the lines were still laced with deathly demon static from the Lenticular. But all she got was silence, it didn’t take an intelligence specialist to tell the radio was FUBAR like the rest of the skytank’s controls.

It was then that Whisper sputtered and opened her eyes. From the way they bulged and quickly snapped shut, I could tell she wished she hadn’t. She bit down hard on her lip, stifling a scream of pain.

“Chief!” I yelled, turning quickly to Breeze, “Grab the first aid kit!”

“Ow,” Whisper whimpered, “What...how,” she winced, squinting painfully at me, “Gimme a...sitrep.”

“We crashed, Chief,” I reported, hooves quaking, “M-Masher’s...he’s d-dead,” I forced myself to say, “I...we...Breeze and I are okay, but—” my eyes dropped down to the spike of metal punching through her side. Breeze came quickly with the medical kit, but only stared helplessly after she opened it. Neither of us were trained medics, all we could do was secure the wound and wait for the cavalry.

But without a radio...

“D-don’t lie to me,” Whisper squeezed her eyes closed, “how bad?”

Breeze and I exchanged glances, neither of us capable of speech.

“Shit,” Whisper muttered, wincing, “gimme a shot of the good stuff.”

“Chief—”

“You said I had a rapid pulse, gimme some painkillers!” Whisper forced out a snarl, “One shot won’t stop my heart.”

Breeze jabbed the auto-injector into Whisper’s thigh, the penetrated pegasus visibly relaxing as the medicine hit her system. Blood continued to leak slowly from the wound.

“What do we do?” Breeze put on a steely expression, but her voice was shaking as she addressed Whisper.

“Mm...get the fuck outta my skytank,” she growled, “Get back to the Overcast.”

I was about to protest when a loud clang sounded from the rear hatch of the skytank. This time it was bewilderment that passed between Breeze and I. Could the engineers have come already?

“What was that?” Whisper growled.

“I’ll check it out,” Breeze offered, giving Masher’s corpse a clear berth as she made her way to the back. Meanwhile I hopped up, sticking my head into the pilot’s cockpit and peeking out the shattered and bloody viewports. I froze at the sight outside.

I turned quickly, yelling: “Wait, Breeze! Get ba—”

There was a massive BOOM! as the hatch caved in, the blast penetrating the metal and ripping into her. Breeze fell back, twitching, her face a mess of blackened burns and twisted flesh. It hardly looked equine.

The blast threw me back against the pilot’s controls, head banging hard against the bulkhead as a whine droned in my hearing. I groaned, the world spinning as voices shouted from what sounded like miles away. Across the deck, Breeze stopped twitching.

Dead.

The silhouette of a pony formed in the opening made by the breaching charge. My heart rate doubled in an instant as my wing groped quickly at my side. A unicorn stepped inside, and I realized that I’d never actually seen a unicorn this close before...or a revolver like the one held in her magic. First Masher...now Breeze...and Whisper was on her way out. Was I next!?

My wing jerked, pulling my own pistol free as the unicorn kicked at Masher’s corpse, my movement drawing her eyes to me. They darted wide as I flicked off the safety and took aim.

Not if I could fucking help it!

Bellowing out my rage, I vaporized the unicorn in a rapid fire blast of shots. The revolver clanged heavily to the floor. I leveled my weapon at the hatch as pink ashes settled, waiting for the next dead motherfucker to step through.

A scream escaped me as fire nipped at my shoulder, gunshots sounding from behind. Wheeling about, I spotted a pony on the other side of the viewports, aiming his weapon through the shattered glass.

Twisting towards him, I tongued the trigger in rapid procession, sending pulses of deathly energy back. The first two struck the shattered remnants of the pilot’s viewport, slagging the jagged edges and allowing the next series to strike the pony. He screamed, stumbling back as the first two hit him square in the face. His mane ignited, flesh sloughing away and eyeballs vaporizing as the third shot burnt off his lips and part of his jaw. He crumpled and didn’t get back up.

“Fuck you, buzzard!” somepony behind me yelled, the sound of hooves clopping over metal heralding another enemy’s approach.

I turned too quickly in the cramped quarters, striking my head against the side of the viewport. My pistol fell, but I grabbed it quickly with a wing—

Not fast enough.

Powerful hooves grabbed my hind legs and threw me backwards. More pain blossomed through my skull as my head was smashed against Whisper’s periscope. Ringing filled my ears and I struggled uselessly with stunned limbs to bring my pistol to bear.

The pony, an armored, brown earth pony buck slapped my weapon away. It clanged off towards the back of the skytank. He smashed me across the face with a forehoof, my gaze drawn to Masher’s body lying beside me. When I looked back to my assailant, he had a knife in his maw.

I barely got my hooves up in time to stop it from going straight into my neck.

The earth pony snarled, drooling past the weapon as my hooves clamped down on the flat sides of the blade. But the earth pony planted his hooves firmly on the bulkhead beneath me as he forced the blade down.

My hooves trembled as they tried to keep the knife from plunging into my flesh. Terror squeezed my throttling heart up into my throat, a wet warmth spreading through my trousers as I lost control of my bladder. The earth pony was stronger than me, overpowering me, soon enough his strength would shatter my own and he knew it.

But then I felt a familiar shape against my wing: Masher’s holster.

My wing locked down on his weapon, tearing it from his holster. Flicking the fire selector to solid beam mode, I pressed the weapon’s sharp gemstone into my assailant’s unarmored gut. I squeezed the trigger with a pinion, forelegs about to give out.

The stench of burnt hairs filled the air as the beam met his gut. His scream was cut short as he vaporized, turning into sooty, pink ash that settled down over me. His knife and smoking armor tumbled down atop me and I shoved it all aside. A sob of relief escaped my lips, limbs quaking with a mixture of adrenaline, terror, and fatigue.

“Shit!”

I shoved my head up, spotting a final mare—another earth pony—staring at me in wide-eyed terror through our destroyed hatch. In an instant she turned and fled, crying for help.

She was going to bring more! I couldn’t let that happen. My hooves were under me in a flash, air filling my wings as I took off after her, transferring Masher’s pistol to my mouth. Yet I only got a pitiful whine when I tongued the trigger, a small red light telling me I was out. Damnit, Masher, why couldn’t you have kept it fully charged?!

Spitting an oath past the weapon, I tucked it away. I didn’t have any more sparkle packs on me. Very well, I’d have to do this the old fashioned way! I tucked my wings, diving down.

She glanced back a second before I struck her, too late to do anything about it. Her scream was cut short as I drove her into the ground, grabbing hold of her as I rolled.

The mare gasped in air that had been blasted from her lungs, bucking in an effort to get me off. Close quarters training took control of me as I wrapped one foreleg around her neck, using the other to lock it in place while my hind legs gripped her flanks. I rolled onto my back, keeping her atop me to prevent her from getting any traction with the ground, pulling back as tight as I could, hearing her choke against my leg.

Her hind legs kicked as she wet herself, struggling against me as I kept up pressure across her throat. She jabbed at me with her forelegs, elbows stabbing painfully into my ribs. I ignored the pain, keeping up the pressure. I couldn’t let her escape!

Her eyes bulged wide as she thrashed, tail whipping about. The smell of her in such close proximity made me gag, but still I held her as tight as a lover. Her convulsions began to slow as her oxygen-deprived brain began to give up, her elbows losing power, kicks turning to twitches before she finally went limp, passing out.

I kept up my chokehold a few moments longer, making sure she was really out before rolling her off me. Brushing myself off, I got to my hooves, veins throbbing with adrenaline as my heart raced through my chest. The mare had resumed her shallow breaths, lying still in the dirt.

Glaring down at the mare, I reached for my knife. Jerk up her head and open her throat, bleed her like a stuck...what was the phrase? Pig? Yeah, pig. But then my eyes found her flank. Or, more specifically, her cutie mark: a crude-looking splint. That gave me pause.

Was this pony a medical specialist?

And, more importantly: could she help Chief Whisper?

I took a moment, the gentle breeze tugging at my wings, ears twitching of their own accord as they scanned for sounds. One hoof rested on the hilt of my knife and the metallic tang of blood rested in my mind. Her blood...or Whisper’s…

I don’t know how long I stood there, mind conflicting between two raging thoughts. Without help, Whisper would die. Help I couldn’t administer and help that was too far away to do her any good...help that this random ground pounder might, and only might, be capable of providing.

She was the enemy, and perhaps my only hope of saving Whisper’s life…

“Damnit!” I growled, approaching her unconscious form.

I tore off her saddlebags, rifling through them and finding numerous medical supplies. So maybe she really was a medical pony. I growled as I undid the straps, reapplying them around her hooves to hobble her. I was taking no chances.

Once I was confident that she wasn’t running anywhere anytime soon, I drew Masher’s pistol with a wing. Sure, it wasn’t charged, but there was no way she knew that.

“Wake up!” I snarled, kicking her prone form. She shifted, face scowling and ears twitching, “Wake the fuck up!” I yelled at her, smashing her across the face with a hoof, then again when she failed to awaken.

She awoke with a scream, leaping to her hooves and hobbling backwards before tripping and falling back on her butt. Her eyes found the hobbles and her hooves scrambled wildly to undo them.

“Hey, quit that or I’ll fucking vape you!” I snarled, jabbing my pistol at her with a wing.

“Wh-wh-wha—” she looked around wildly, freezing as she spotted me and my weapon, “Oh, sweet Celestia! P-please, I—”

“Shut-up!” I growled back, “Are you a medical pony!? Answer me!”

“Wh-bu-bu-y-yes, I-what—” she fumbled for words, trembling as her eyes darted between my face and my pistol.

“You want me to fucking vape you, cunt!?” I snarled.

“Wh-n-n-no, please, don’t!” she held her hooves up as best she could, “please, I-I surrender! Don’t sh-shoot!”

“So you don’t want to get vaped?!” I growled.

“No! No, please! I—” she cast her eyes about, “what...what—”

“If you don’t wanna get vaped, you’re gonna help fix up my friend. You do that, I’ll let you go, got it!?” I glared into her face, “But you fuck with me, you fuck with her, and I’ll fucking vape you, turn you into a little pile of glowing ash, got it!?”

“Y-you need...” she trembled, licking her lips, “y-yeah, I...okay, I…” she trailed off with a whimper.

“Good. On your hooves, back to the skytank!” I gestured with my pistol, “If you try anything...”

“No! Please! I won’t, I won’t, I just wanna live, please…” she mumbled, getting to her hooves and casting me a fearful look as she began to hobble back towards the skytank.

So far so good.

* * * * *

“Skiff?” Whisper growled when I returned with the ground pounder in tow, making sure to secure any weapons the mare might be able to use.

“She’s a medical pony, she can fix you,” I jabbed the earth pony in the flank with my pistol, ‘I hope,’ I didn’t add. Always keeping my pistol on the mare, I used my other wing to grab the pistol out of Breeze’s holster, quickly swapping it with Masher’s and getting a scared glance from my prisoner. I felt calmer now that my weapon was hot, I could make good on my promise if she tried anything.

Whisper tensed at the mare’s lack of wings or uniform, eyeing her with a questioning wariness. But at the sight of her terror and her hobbles, she seemed to get the picture, “She’s the—” she winced, biting back her words as her eyes clamped shut.

“Fix her,” I snapped at the mare, gesturing with a jerk of my head. “She’s my prisoner,” I said to Whisper, “and she knows what the fuck’s gonna happen if she tries anything.”

“Th-this doesn’t look good,” the mare commented, casting me another fearful look before turning back to Whisper, “B-but I th-think I can—”

“You think!?” I snapped, making her ears go flat as she cringed, “I’ll tell you now, if you don’t I’m gonna turn you into a pink cloud of ash!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll do it, I’ll do it!” she cried back, her terror making me feel good, ‘This is what you get for fucking with my crew members, ground-bound scum!’

Still casting me glances as if I was going to eat her the second she turned away, the mare began to assess Whisper’s wounds. Whisper herself appeared to fight back the urge to cry out, gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes closed.

“I-I’ll need m-medical supplies…” the mare stuttered back at me. I kicked the skytank’s first aid kit at her, making her jump at the loud clang it made. She grabbed it in her maw, bringing it closer to Whisper and hesitating a moment. She appeared extra meek as she looked back at me again, “I-I’ll need my h-hooves,” she gave me a fearful look.

“If you think I’m dumb enough—”

“Nngh!” Whisper groaned to get my attention, “N-o, Skiff...l-let...undo her forehooves...do, she!”

“Chief, if I—” I began.

“Fucking obey!” she yelled at me, gritting her teeth against the pain.

Grumbling, I glared at the mare. Drawing my knife with my free wing.

She looked as if she might wet herself all over again as I stepped up and sliced through her bindings.

“You try anything!” I warned, stepping back quickly, keeping the pistol centered on her.

“I won’t,” she mumbled.

‘But if you do...’ my pinion stroked the trigger longingly, waiting for her to give me an excuse.

“O-okay,” the mare breathed, looking through our first aid kit, “penetrating object…” she paused, examining the wound for a moment before turning to me, “I...well, we’ve got a facility. If we were there I’d have a much easier time treating—”

“Fuck no! You think you’re gonna take us fucking prisoner?” her tail tucked tightly as she cringed away from me, “No, you’ve got plenty of shit in there, plenty in your fucking saddlebags, too!” I gestured to the bags still strapped loosely to her sides, “Fix her!”

“You would be treated fairly!” she tried again in spite of my tone, “Please, the chances of success—”

“You wanna get fucking vaped!? Short for fucking vaporized!? Short for made into pink fucking ashes!?” she flinched as I got in her face, stepping up and pressed my pistol into the side of her head, “Fix her here!”

“Okay! Okay, j-just please-please don’t kill me! I’ve got a f-family...f-friends!” she whimpered, backing stiffly into a bulkhead.

That was the wrong, fucking thing to say.

“Oh, you’ve got friends, yeah!? You got a family, bitch!?” I snarled, grabbing her by the mane and shoving her face towards Masher’s body. “So did Masher!” I shoved her towards Breeze’s corpse, “So did Breeze!”

I smashed her across the face with my other forehoof, her head clanging off metal. It felt so good that I did it again, seeing blood spit from her mouth. She held up a hoof to fend me off, but I slapped it away, grabbing her by the collar of her dirty shirt and slamming her up against the bulkhead, pressing my pistol into her gut. Her eyes went wide and her bladder went loose again as I glared murder into her very, fucking soul, wing clenched so hard against my weapon that it should have broken.

“Wingpony Sky Skiff!” Whisper yelled, tone penetrating the armor of my rage, making me freeze up.

“Please...please...please…” the mare was whimpering, crying as snot ran from her nostrils and urine puddled at her hooves. I held her up a few moments longer, enjoying her terror, smelling her fear, before I let go.

“Shut up and help her,” I growled, stepping away.

“Okay...okay…” the mare continued to whimper, slinking back to Whisper on trembling hooves.

Carefully, she began her work, examining Whisper, who seemed to slip in and out of it on a whim. She checked her pulse, pulled back her flak jacket, cut off her blouse and t-shirt to get to the wound. The mare tested the metal shard with a hoof, lightly as she examined the wound.

“N-n-not so bad…” she mumbled.

“What!?” I snapped, making her jump and turn to me with ears down and head held low in a submissive pose.

“I...d-do you ha-h-ave,” she licked her trembling lips, “wire...er, b-bolt cutters?” she pointed back to Whisper, “It...it looks good, I-I mean where it’s going...n-no major organs or-or arteries,” she took a calming breath, “I-If I could cut it...her free from the ship…” she trailed off.

“Don’t you fucking try anything,” I warned, taking a few steps back and fumbling blindly with a small gear locker. I dug a set of gem-powered bolt cutters free and tossed them to her hooves.

The mare took them, trembling as she turned and snipped the end of the metal shard off. It took a few cuts to remove the far end, but Whisper was free, if still impaled. My heart fluttered up in my chest, watching on as the mare poked through the medical supplies. She looked back at me again.

“So l-like I said...it’s not going through a-anything major,” she licked her lips again, pausing briefly, “There’s st-still going to be a lot of bleeding when I pull this free…” she trailed off, looking back as Whisper watched her through half-lidded eyes, “Y-you might need to help me...apply pressure to the wound as I pull it out...”

That much I knew I could do, “Fine,” I stepped forwards, keeping my gun on her as I took an offered sterile wound dressing in my mouth, tearing the packaging open with my teeth.

“There might be a lot of blood...are you ready?” she gripped the piece of metal at Whisper’s back.

“Always ready to fly steady,” I snarled in sing-song, making her wince.

She began to pull, Whisper began to scream, and I began pressing the dressing into her wound.

Blood began to flow more freely as the metal came out, running down from both ends. The dressing soaked up a lot of it, but Whisper continued to bleed even after the metal came out. She shuddered as the mare pressed a healing potion to her lips.

“Drink, drink!” she said, letting Whisper gulp the purple liquid down her throat. She followed it with another as the bleeding began to subside, the wound beginning to close. A third had the hole nearly gone, but the mare held off here, pressing a dressing to the wound and securing it with gauze.

“You have more potions,” I growled.

“Can’t overdose her. Too many healing potions after something like this and your immune system starts to shut down, can’t handle working on its own anymore,” the mare replied, looking fearful of retaliation as she finished off the bandage. After checking her vitals again, the mare gave Whisper another shot of painkillers, looking satisfied...if still scared.

“I...I did it,” the mare took a step back, glancing between Whisper and me, “Sh-she’s stable, I…” she licked her lips, “You’ll let me go now, right?”

‘Not a chance in hell,’ I thought, wing clamping around my pistol. She was a loose end, she’d just bring her friends back and—

“Yes...Skiff, let her go,” Whisper whispered weakly, as if reading my mind. She got slowly to her hooves, stumbling. I shoved past the earth mare to offer her support, “We’re not war criminals.”

“She’ll rat us out! She’s a security hazard, we can’t let her go!” I hissed back. And, technically, I already was a war criminal after beating and compelling a prisoner of war...not that I saw Whisper bringing that up in court.

“We’ll be long gone by the time she brings anypony back,” she replied in a hush, putting a hoof weakly on my shoulder, “That’s an order, Skiff. Let her go.”

I turned my glare to the earth pony mare, watching her tremble under my gaze. She looked ready to bolt, eyes darting from my face to my pistol. Somehow I knew both of us were aware that she couldn’t outrun my shots if she ever dared try...and maybe that was enough for me.

I lowered my pistol.

“Get the fuck out of here,” I snapped.

“Th-thank you…” she murmured, turning and fleeing.

“C’mon. We’ll return to the Overcast and come back with more troops to salvage and get their bodies,” Whisper winced, slumping against me as I helped her out and towards our freedom.