Equestria War Radio

My senses slowly start to come back to me as I awaken. I reach up with a stiff foreleg and try to rub the sleep out of my eyes. I don’t dare open my eyes until I’m done rubbing my eyes; the way that my eyes are naturally, combined with the lack of being able to see straight because of my eyes being closed for so long, makes it so that I wouldn’t be able to see anything anyways.

It only takes me a few seconds to clear my eyes, and when that’s done and over with, I open up my eyes. I wait for them to adjust to my surroundings. Clearly, it’s night-time; the black skies prove that much to me. I’m about to stand up and stretch when I remember what’s above me. The bottom side of a tank…

It’s deathly quiet outside, which compared to the noisiness of the area when I last was conscious, is rather creepy. I don’t like complete silence; I like there to be at least some white noise in the area. Regardless of whether or not I can actively identify it- which most times, I can’t- it puts my mind at ease and allows me to focus and concentrate better.

I don’t know if other ponies’ minds are like this. I don’t much mind, either. I know that it’s the way that I am, and that’s really all that I need to care about.

I shimmy my way out from underneath the tank. When I finally get out, I gleefully stretch my stiff limbs. The air is rather cool, and I shiver against a brief but potent gust of wind that buffets my now-standing body. I’m used to chilly weather, though, and this is hardly the coldest I’ve had to endure.

Back when I was a filly, our parents often used to have to endure freezing cold winters without the luxury of being able to heat their house. Naturally, seeing as I lived there with them, I had to suffer alongside them. If I can say anything about those winters, it’s that they prepared me rather well for delivering mail in Ponyville’s rather cold winters.

But I’m not in Ponyville anymore. That much is clear to me. We don’t have tanks in Ponyville; neither do we have kids fighting each other with weapons that seem to be designed specifically with Death in mind. It’s rather scary… I shiver again, though this time it has nothing to do with the temperature.

I know it’s a rather futile effort, but I look around- now that there’s no fighting going on, and I can actually  get my bearings without having to distract myself every half-second with worries of who’s going to try to kill me next- to see what I can identify. As I thought, there’s really nothing that I recognize.

I see some smoldering wreckage, probably of a plane that got shot down. Oh yeah, and bodies. So many bodies… Their blood is staining the sand red. I wonder if it will ever go back to its natural color. Something tells me that’s nothing but a pipe dream.

I try not to look directly at the bodies as I maneuver my way around them. The ones that are right in front of me as I step, I can avoid looking at those. The ones that are further up ahead and to my side, on the other hand… I don’t have as good of luck with those. I know it’s not really something I should be doing, but on the inside I’m slightly marveling at the number of different ways that these beings have come up with to kill each other. Some use bullets, some use fire, others just get blown up or crushed from falling debris…

Regardless, I continue onward. I hear a bird cry out in the distance. It sounds… sad. Mournful, even. I know that I don’t feel like flat-out bawling my eyes out like I did not too long ago, but a tear still slides down my cheek. It’s so sad, hearing birds call like that…

My walk is now becoming slower and slower in pace, because as I go on, there are more and more bodies laid out on the beach. They fell wherever they died. Occasionally, I pass someone who I think I can still see the spark of life in their eyes. I force myself to keep going, though; I know I can’t help them, not with what little I know about the medical practice.

As I make my way onward, my mind drifts away from the aftermath and the carnage of battle around me, and I start to reminisce once again on the last memories I have of being in Equestria:

As Derpy walked along, faithfully trailing at Twilight’s side, he started softly singing a song that he’d heard once or twice being sung at Dinky’s talent shows: “I’ve come undone… But you make sense of who I am… Like puzzle pieces in your hand…”

Twilight looked back at her oddly. “Derpy, what on earth are you singing back there?”

Derpy blushed a bit. “Oh, it’s nothing, really… I don’t even know the name of it. I’ve heard it once or twice and a few lines just stuck out to me…”

Twilight shrugged and kept walking. “I don’t mind your singing,” she said, not looking back again. “I don’t want you to get me wrong. You’ve got a good voice. I’d just never heard that song before.” If she had been looking back, she would have seen Derpy flush a bright red in the face.

No one had ever complimented her on her singing voice before…

Something occurred to Derpy as they walked. “Hey, Twilight?” When she had acknowledged that she’d heard the mailmare, Derpy continued: “Don’t you normally have a dragon with you? A really small one…?”

Twilight nodded. “That’s Spike. I’m not sure if you two have ever officially met before. He’s my assistant and one of my best friends. He’s back at my place, getting everything set up for our experiment.” Twilight laughed. “He overslept this morning, and ended up waking up about five minutes before I left. I just let him stay there, under the condition that he get everything set up.”

“It’s nice to have friends like that,” Derpy remarked. “Though, if he’s lazy enough to oversleep when he knows he’s supposed to be going on a trip with you, are you sure you can trust him to get everything set up for your experiment while you’re not there?”

Twilight nodded. “He knows how important my research is to me. And yes, he can be a bit lazy at times, but he won’t let that get in the way of the work that Princess Celestia has tasked me to do.”

That reminded Derpy of something. “I’d almost forgotten, but thanks for the reminder. What exactly is it that the Princess wants you to do in this experiment?”

Twilight looked back at Derpy, a smile on her face. “Something very big,” was all she said. “I’ll explain it all fully when we get to my place.” Derpy just smiled back and nodded, and they kept on their way.

My attention is brought back to the world I find myself in now. I can’t stray too far from the tank. Right now, that’s my only means of shelter, and I don’t particularly want to be sleeping out in the open. Not in this environment.

I tend to be a heavy sleeper, and who knows what could happen to me during the night?

Speaking of the night, I really do need to figure out what time it is. It’s not really of all-consuming importance, more along the lines of something that I just really want to know. I kind of have a one-track mind, albeit one that goes in a million directions at once, and when my mind latches onto something random… well, it doesn’t really let up until it’s been satisfied.

An idea hits me, and while I don’t particularly want to do this, it’s worth a shot to ease my mind. So I begin looking on the bodies of the- people, I guess?- lying around on the beach. It takes me awhile to find one that can help me out, but eventually I find one that has a rather ornate timepiece clipped to his side.

I read it. It says that the time is 1:30 in the morning. So it is rather late… This makes me glad that I learned how to read the giant clock in Ponyville.

I shiver again. This isn’t going to work out. I look down at the dead person at my feet, and swallow unsurely. I really don’t want to do this… As I take his thick outercoat off of him, I try to rationalize what I’m doing. “He doesn’t need it anymore,” I tell myself, “and you do. You’re not really stealing…” I’m shaking uncontrollably the entire time, though. I know that what I’m doing is wrong, and I don’t like it in the least bit.

I feel my tears coming back, and I push them back. I don’t need to start my crying, not now.

After I have the overcoat wormed out from around the person’s body, I somewhat clumsily drape it over my shoulders, then stick my forehooves in the sleeves to keep it from flopping around everywhere and potentially falling off. The sleeves are a bit long, so I roll them up to match the length of my forelegs. It’s rather comfortable, when all is said and done.

I pick the timepiece up with my mouth and deposit it into the pocket that is on the outercoat. In the process, I realize something that may end up hindering me in the long run: the coat covers up my wings. If I need to make a quick get-away in the air, this is going to majorly hinder me.

Then again, I can’t make a quick get-away if I’m dead from exposure… I’m not really shivering anymore, so I steel my resolve- chalking this up to nothing but a necessary evil in the process- and I turn, about to head back to the tank. I yawn. It’s getting rather late; I need to get back there before-

Wait. What was that? I stop, and swivel my head around, trying to catch the noise again. There! There it is! It sounds like someone’s crying out in pain… One of the kids, maybe? They’re still alive?

I shake my head. “Don’t go out there, Derpy,” I tell myself. Yeah, I’ve started calling myself Derpy now. It used to be something that just Rainbow Dash would call me, but I started soon thereafter to use that name for myself. Even after I found out what it actually meant, I kept on calling myself that. I thought it appropriate.

I continue my conversation with myself: “There’s nothing you can do for him, not now. You know nothing about bandaging up wounds, or taking care of someone who’s hurt as badly as he seems to be…” As I’m telling myself this, I realize my hooves are taking me towards the noise. It’s almost as though I’m being compelled to do it by some force beyond my control, like the one that drove Rarity to that giant rock with all the gems in it.

Yes, I know about that. Scootaloo told me during one of our flying practice sessions, and she’d heard it from Rainbow Dash herself. Apparently, Dashie had been bragging a bit about how her Sonic Rainboom had inadvertently caused the events that led to all of her best friends receiving their cutie marks.

My cutie mark story had nothing to do with Dashie, but maybe I’ll tell that later.

I realize where this is going, and I resign myself to do it. Whatever higher power is in control right now, they want me to go towards the source of that noise, and I’m not going to resist. I soon crest a hill, and look out on another sea of bodies. It takes me a minute to pinpoint the general direction of where the noise is coming from. When I do so, I continue on in that direction.

As I get closer to the source, I realize that I recognize the tempo of the voice. But from where? As I continue on, suddenly I realize it, in a stunning flash of remembrance.

“Dear Celestia,” I say out loud. “It’s the kid who saved my life…!”

Now I’m running in a full-on gallop. Soon, I come to where he lays. Oh man, he is not in good shape. He’s got a pretty big piece of something sticking out of his stomach. I notice it’s not bleeding much, though; maybe the giant shard of metal is preventing the blood from coming out. That’s good, at least.

He looks over at me, agony etched in every line on his face. When he sees me, recognition dawns. “Hey…” he croaks. “You’re the… the thing I saved a few hours ago… Under the tank.”

I nod. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

His eyes grow wide as saucers. “Wait…” He coughs as his body is racked with another wave of pain. When he’s finally back in control of his senses after a minute, he continues with his thought: “You… you can talk? And I can understand you…?”

I nod. “Um… is there anything I can do to help.”

He laughs softly. “Not if you can’t patch this up.” He motions to the big metal shard. “You have any experience as a combat medic?”

“No…”

He sighs. “That’s okay; I wasn’t really expecting a positive answer-“

I don’t know what compels me to say this suddenly, but the words come out nonetheless: “But that doesn’t mean that I can’t help you. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do my best…”

He looks at me a bit funny, like he can’t tell if I’m serious or not. When he sees the determination in my eyes, though, he smiles. “I guess it can’t hurt, really. If I die, then… well, I die. I won’t blame it on you in the afterlife.”

He points in the direction of the tank. “If you can get back over to the tank… There should be a medic’s kit in the tank. Get it and bring it back to me, and we’ll go from there.” I nod and take off at full speed.

I make it back to the tank in about a minute or so, and that was with me galloping at top speed. When I reach it, I unsteadily climb my way up. The top part of it is open, and I slip in. After a brief fall, I land on the floor.

Luckily, the moon is out, and in its current position it’s streaming directly in through the hole in the top of the tank. So, I have light to see. I rummage around for a few minutes, not really finding anything important. At one point, I pull out a box-shaped contraption. I recognize it as a portable radio. Huh. I’ll have to check it out more later, and see if it works.

After a few more minutes of fruitless searching, I finally find what I’m pretty sure is the medic’s kit. I climb out and start making my way back to my injured friend. As I’m going on, I subconsciously start singing the song that I’d been singing back in Ponyville; this was a different part of the song, though. Its lyrics were simple, yet powerful.

“I’m here again… A thousand miles away from you… A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am…”

Author’s Note: I had a rather fertile source of inspiration for this chapter, in the form of the song “Pieces,” by Red. The lines that Derpy is singing in this chapter are lyrics from that song. In addition, the chapter title is (obviously) the title of the song.

Future chapters may have additional Red references and lyrics in them, as well. I’m not 100 percent sure yet, but it’s a definite possibility.