Green Sun: Anthology

Rotors Engaged

The eastern coast of Equestria had seen significant fleet action during the war, and not just the Rescue of the 10,000. Nod’s navy had made themselves at home across the sea, and after the death of Kane, what was left of it had either disbanded or turned to piracy. To top it all off, the entire coast was still a hazard zone with how many hulks had washed up over the years, and with many of the Brotherhood’s capital ships using either nuclear reactors or tiberium power generation as opposed to GDI’s magical spark reactors. This made each new hull that resurfaced ZOCOM’s job to fix.

All of this and more, Comet Tail was happy to not have to deal with. The western coast of Equestria didn’t see any heavy action by comparison, and pirates rarely ventured to this side of the continent. Of course, these facts weren’t really at the forefront of the unicorn’s mind. What worried him was the fact that he was 100 meters above a churning ocean in a Hammerhead, barely keeping his dinner down as wind gusts of 50 kph tore at the helicopter. The last thing the yellow stallion wanted to do was throw up in his helmet mid-mission, and scrubbing vomit out of the troop bay was not what he wanted to do once getting back to base.

Across the bay, his partner seemed to be struggling in the same manner as he could see her grimacing. Amethyst Star had a habit of leaving her breather hanging around her neck even when her visor was down, a habit he had talked with her about at least a dozen times and had been shrugged off each time.

“Our job is easier when ponies can see a smiling face.” she had said the first time he mentioned how dangerous it could be, something he rolled his eyes at every time she repeated herself.

“Not gonna puke on me, are you?” he finally shouted over the storm.

“If dinner’s going the wrong way I’ll do it out the back, Comet!” Amethyst replied, her grimace turning into a smile momentarily before another wind gust rocked the pair. Comet was about to return a quip of his own when the red lights in the troop bay began flashing green.

“Show time!” the co-pilot’s voice chimed in over their helmet speakers, “Positive ID on the yacht, heat sigs showing survivors.”

“Physical or magical extraction?” Amethyst asked.

“Wind’s too strong, stick to physical.”

“Copy.” Comet acknowledged before looking back at Amethyst, “Gear check!”

As the two unicorns felt the Hammerhead descend rapidly as they double-checked their rigs, as well as the winch in the center of the bay. Post-war, entire wings of Hammerheads were given what the Marines and Navy were kind enough to call the “Splash Police Refit.” Given how effective the helicopters were at ferrying troops around and how heavy-duty their frames were, it was only natural that they’d find a new life as the preferred rescue craft of the GDI Coast Guard.

While the interior was made capable of lifting both heavy and light loads, the exterior saw plenty of changes too. Weapons pods on the wings were initially made to be modular to face the wide variety of Brotherhood soldiers in the field and give the pilots plenty of options on how to kill them, but now they had a series of domestic modules that made the twin-rotor aircraft more suited to saving lives than taking them.

Once at the right altitude, twin spotlights lit up the capsized yacht and the pods underneath the wings shot out a series of flares into the water creating a rough perimeter as the Hammerhead turned around to face the shore. Inside the crew compartment, the lights stopped flashing and went to just a steady white light that always made Comet feel like someone had taken the pre-war sun and put it into the helicopter.

“Winch is good!” Comet stated.

“Harness is good!” Amethyst added after tugging the rigging on Comet one last time.

“Opening the doors, you’re clear to drop.” the co-pilot added.

The bottom of the Hammerhead steadily opened up, letting the raging storm into the compartment and sending a chill down Comet Tail’s spine. Winter storms were never fun to deal with before tiberium made landfall, now the worst ones felt more like Windigo breath. Down below, the spotlights had a large civilian yacht lit up like it was the middle of the day while the Hammerhead held steady 15 meters above the churning waves. This far out there wasn’t any risk of hitting rocks, but the chances of getting dragged under by powerful tides was ever-present. No sane pony, changeling, griffon, or even dragon would risk leaping into such a maelstrom.

Comet Tail on the other hand just smiled at his partner, secured his breather, and without a hint of hesitation, leapt out of the safety of the helicopter.

Citizens were in danger, and he had a job to do.