Tartarus Divers

Hell was awake for the landing sequence this time. Her eyes wandered around the cargo bay, trying to focus on anything other than the three empty seats. Like the last time she was aware, the ship went through its sequences of beeps, clanks and cer-shunks as it entered the gravity space and locked down onto the runway.

She worked the harness open with the hoof catch releases as Horizon went through the shut down procedures. She wished the door would stick. Maybe something simple could go wrong, and Hell could be stuck in here for a few hours; then she wouldn't have to do anything else, or think.

But the door did come down, and Hell hopped up on muscle memory and half shrugged one of the falling-out armor plates back into position over her shoulder as her combat shoes thunked their way down the ramp. There was no DO to meet her at the ramp this time, and - functioning mostly on assumption - Hell figured that the next steps were: food, rest, food, outfit, mission.

Then I'll have another chance to get someone else killed.

The thought was an accident, a mistake, really. She had only just gotten him to stop giving her attitude.

Bugs.

Hell repressed a snarl and shivered with barely containable emotion as Horizon came down the ramp and closed it up.

"So Hell..."

Hell took the leading question for what it was. She turned towards him, broken polymers of her armor, sharpened by acid, digging slightly into her suit sleeve. Words didn't come. Horizon, for his part, seemed to look through her, his orange eyes cut right through her visor, and he smiled a smile of empathy that reached through the helmet along with his gaze.

"You wanna get cleaned up and meet us in the mess hall?"

Hell quieted her swirling thoughts. "Sure, I'll be down in twenty."

A task.

Hell was built for doing specific things. She was a soldier, born and bred. She turned off towards the stacks and lifted a hoof before remembering to take off her armor first. Horizon waited to go until she was on her way, not watching, but being around. There was another plane in the hangar now too, supposedly what Cross Fire would by flying.

After shrugging off the last of her armor plates, Hell started working the welded zipper down the sleeve and said, "So... How long have you been flying?"

Horizon responded instantly, filling the void of conversation, but not the static audio of the hanger Hell was tuning out. "I got around here 'bout a year after Jay. Think Beach has been with this SD since it was fielded, but I'm only a graduate of three years in the making, and I'm pretty lucky too, most Pelican pi-" He cut himself off, "Well you know... I'm pretty good at what I do."

Hell wasn't looking at him, but she called over her shoulder as she worked the sleeve down over her combat shoes, "Confirmed kill count?"

Horizon chuckled, "We transport pilots don't keep official kill counts."

Hell, without missing a beat, made eye contact and rebutted with, "Unofficial confirmed kill count?"

Horizon looked towards the ceiling and began to whistle non-descriptly. "six hundred and ninety nine."

Hell did her own whistle, except, she didn't have to purse her lips, she could make it with the top of her throat. "Damn flyboy. I've heard of worse kill counts for longer deployments."

"Oh yeah?"

Hell nodded, "This one sarge, he had a four month rotation from a drop post out in Miranda, he killed plenty of flies, but not nearly as many to make up seven hundred. Real grumpy about it too, the other drills always brought it up to bait the newbies into trying to call the sarge out on his commitment." Hell flipped a wing, "Obviously that never went well."

Horizon met her with a confused look, "Sarge? You mean like a sergeant? I didn't... think Divers got anything more complex than the training course?"

"We don't." Hell shook off the last of the sleeve and stacked it up with her armor plates on a box. "I trained to join up with the SEA forces before I could become a Tartarus Diver, because of my... Race... and size."

"Wait- You're SEAF?"

"Mhm, got my military ID in my personal... effects..." Hell took a short double take, "Actually, where is all my stuff?"

"Uhhhhhhhhh-" Horizon plastered on a smile, "I'll go ask Beach while you clean yourself off. No offence Hell, but even without the armor, you still smell like you bathed in animal parts."

Hell sniffed the air. She creased her brown and sniffed a little harder.

"Oh."

A few blinks followed the realization.

"I can't smell anything."

Horizon matched her confused look, "What- you mean anything?"

Hell pushed away the raging thoughts, "It's probably not anything to worry about, maybe just a side effect from the stimpacks. I'm gonna-"

"Oh, yeah, of course, I'll go-"

"And-"

"Yup-"

Hell and Horizon exchanged a dance of trying to step around one another.

"I'm going this way." Hell pointed with a wing, Horizon stepped to the other side with a silly smile and Hell trotted off to the stacks for a shower, wishing she didn't have to leave his conversation. Pipes and grating made for far worse company. She made for far worse company, and her thoughts made sure she remembered that fact all the way through the gangways.

She wanted to get bothered by Jay again, he was loud. That was annoying, but something.

Why. Are. My. Thoughts. SO. loud...

But the sounds of the hangar in operation slowly turned into echoes, and then all that was left were her hoofsteps. She made sure to stomp extra loud and point her ears right at the walls so she'd catch the reverberation. She ignored the looks, the whispers she could hear, one kind pony tried to congratulate her on her third successful mission, and for a split second, she saw Sharp's face with the extra hole run down the middle, and she stomped away.

When she got where she was going she pushed them down again, simple instructions. Water, soap, scrub the blood out of her coat. Rinse. Rinse. Rinse. Rinse until the blood comes out. Rinse until the blood comes out. Scrub the blood out of her coat, scrub it off of her hooves, out of her mouth, out of her eyes. Rinse. Rinse. Rinse the blood out.

Why won't it come out.

Hell ignored most of the crying. Shaking made washing very difficult, you know.

Twenty minutes later and only slightly lighter, but far more poofy, Hell clomped her way into mess.

Last time Hell was here, the first thing she noticed were the scents. The food, the ponies, the twisting of carbs in the air mixed with grease and that weird metallic smell that you only got when you were walking around with your hooves scuffing up metal all day.

Now it was just air.

"Hey! Why-"

Hell jumped, and Blue Jay made eye contact with the base of her hoof as she went to cave in his skull. She luckily stopped, and Jay didn't seem to mind.

"Why do you look all sad?"

Hell fixed her ears and calmed her heart. "I don't. Stop sneaking up on me like that, you could have been seriously hurt." She tried to scold him.

He laughed, like the very idea was ridiculous. "You would never hurt me Hell," and he gestured at her hoof, still inches away from his face. "See?"

All Hell could see was the hole she almost kicked into his eye. Her combat shoes were made for cracking open ceramics and keratin; she could have sent him into an early retirement if she really kicked him in the face... or an early grave.

She lowered her limb, and walked into the room.

"Hey- where you goin'?" He sidled up next to her, "Hungry?"

"Yes." Hell's gaze passed around the room, and a breath came out shakier than she intended after her mind forced her to breathe in a little harder to try and smell the room. Habit.

It'll fix itself. Just stress.

"Whatcha hungry for?"

Hell scoffed, "Is silence on the menu?"

"Silence?" Jay tapped a hoof against his chin, "Dunno, but we can ask!" He bounded forwards, prancing around a few tables and up to the counter. The white mare from before was still at the counter and said a few choice words to Jay for interrupting her conversation with the jarringly yellow stallion at the counter.

Hell stared in confusion. She couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Two hooves in front of the other and she crossed the distance.

"Aaaa~! There she is, you're looking lovely-" She caught her own voice, "And thin! Look at you! What are you hungry for, let me-"

"Silence?" Jay interrupted, half answering, half asking. "That's what she asked for."

Hell blinked. Aether sent her a look that said it all, followed by lowering her muzzle down and raising her eyebrows up higher than Hell thought was possible while she stared down Blue Jay. To his credit, he figured it out.

"Ah." A step back, "My bad. I- Silence isn't a cultural dish?"

Hell openly gawked. "... I don't think so."

"This isn't important, Jay- Shoo! Go on, your lunch break isn't in for an hour anyways, what are you even down here for?"

Jay sent Hell an apologetic smile then twisted around and made a hasty retreat.

"Uh-huh. That's what I thought." The mare turned her gaze back towards Hell, "So wha'd'ya want dearie? More soup?"

"Actually-uhm. Do you have anything heartier? Vegetables? Stew? Something like that?"

She smiled wide, "Aye, a challenge? I can do that. How hearty are we talkin' from a scale of 'set the season's snowfall on fire' to 'El-Seven's ridged leg'?"

Hell... Had no idea what to make of that.

"Hearty it is." She winked.

"Thank you- Aether? Right?"

She moved her head in one big, singular nod. "That's my name, do me a favor and don't wear it out for me, will you?"

"Will do." Hell's response was mostly toneless. Her mind was still trying to figure out what in the wide world of Super Equestria the mare had just asked her. The affirmation was mostly reflex drilled into her by boot camp. Her thoughts drifted back towards her ID, and the fact that she hadn't seen Horizon on her way in. Aether disappeared behind the counter and the flappy metal doors behind it without another word.

Hell turned around. Jay was gone from sight; a few ponies averted their gazes from her as she turned around. A few sent her winks or waves or smiles. Somehow, in a room full of ponies, Hell felt alone. She blinked at the dust that felt like it was blowing into her eyes and went to take a seat at an empty table. She checked again if she could smell. She couldn't. The table and seating was just as 'meh' as it was before. She sat there, ignoring herself and the rest of the room until Cross Fire walked in, tailed by Beach and Horizon.

Hell's anxiety of being stared at was replaced by a different kind of anxiety as she waved at Cross, who smiled and started walking over. Hell tried to work her expression into something schooled, but respectable. Anything other than the pout she'd been wearing the whole time.

"I got some good news for ya girly." Cross flopped down into the seat next to her and flared her wings in a wide stretch. The impression that she was about to lay one over Hell's back turned into disappointment when Hell realized she was only stretching. "Eagle's in, and all the engine tests are full-green."

Horizon walked past the table towards the counter with the food.

Beach sat down, moving all robotic like and staring stock straight ahead, doing her best to not make eye contact with anyone. "Cross Fire will be joining you on your next mission."

"What?!" Hell nearly upturned the table. Her shout quieted the room and she shied back from the looks as she realized what Beach had meant. "Oh. You mean in the plane."

"Yeah. What, you thought I'd be on the ground?"

Hell remained silent.

Beach, on the other hoof, remained stoic. "There was an official briefing, but I may as well tell you now. The Ministry of Defense saw fit to grant us access to a brand new Eagle and according armaments for strafing and airstrikes."

"The A-forty's a real beauty." Cross Fire took over. "Spinally mounted, wing belt fed ammo drives with full system actuators, seven hundred rounds per minute that could punch through solid Achresteel." She finished with a hoof in the air, almost dreamily projecting. "It takes up three eights of the weight allotment for the plane itself."

Hell was... sucked into her mood. How this mare could be so excited about a weapon reminded her of when she picked up her Liberator for the first time. The awe, the reverence. It didn't feel all that special now that she'd killed with it. Still, a smile rose to her face, a soft one, to meet with Cross's "What I'd give to have one of those in the field."

Cross winked, "Technically? Now you do, and if you tried to hold one it would turn you into jelly, trust me. That's also why it's only for strafing. Fire it too long and the recoil drops the Eagle out of the sky. Even with entry speed."

Beach frowned a little deeper. Her resting face turned more into a scowl. "This is why we have a technical briefing."

Hell wondered why she was here.

"Incoming." Horizon said from far enough away that it wasn't startling. Hell turned over her back to see the balancing pot on his back, and Aether fretting over it as he walked it over. Hell could see the steam.

Which would have to be enough.

The pot was set down on the table under a rag that had suddenly appeared there, and Aether set down a massive stack of bowls made of thin, polished metal; perfectly nestled inside of each other in a stack of ten. "They're we go filly. The heartiest veggie broth me and the girls could make up." She patted her on the shoulder and then turned away, back to the counter.

Horizon was the first to dip a bowl into the pot itself and sit back with a helping of steaming white, with carrots and asparagus and alfalfa poking out of the top. Hell couldn't smell it, but the steam and the view was enough to get her tiny stomach rumbling. She lifted herself up, mostly onto the table, for her own bowl. Cross grabbed hers too and waited for Hell to sit back before tilting the pot down over her bowl instead of dipping it inside.

That looks way easier...

Beach didn't move, and Hell caught her unblinking stare and held it.

Beach's response was to continue staring.

"Are..." Hell wasn't intimidated, her mouth just went dry. It wasn't her fault, Beach was just being... really intense for some reason. "Are you not hungry?"

Beach's eyes snapped to the pot and then back to Hell before she could blink. "This is for you. It would be wrong for me to-"

"Ah shut your mouth." Cross lazily interrupted, licking her lips. "Get a bowl, stuff your face. You don't mind, do you Hell?"

She didn't. In fact, why would Beach believe eating food would be wrong? "Of course not."

"See?" Cross apparently felt as though the tiny little argument was over, and shoved her muzzle back into her bowl and slurped loud and proud.

Horizon shook his head at the mare's antics. "Blunt force instrument much?"

"Potato pot-" Cross coughed, and put a hoof to her chest as she hacked up a carrot that had gone down the wrong pipe.

Horizon laughed at her.

Hell and Beach were still staring at each other in a silent battle of wills. One that Beach eventually conceded. She did her due diligence of moving her own bowl and getting stew in front of her without spilling a drop, only then did Hell look away and tune back into Horizon and Cross arguing about whose plane was better.

"Yeah-well, at least I can fire my main weapon without dropping out of the sky."

Do they... always do this after someone dies?

"Hah!" Cross pointed, "That piddly autocannon? I've seen bigger-"

"Okay you two." Beach interrupted, calm as ever. "That's plenty."

Horizon waggled his eyebrows, and Cross glared at having been the one to get cut off.

Hell lifted the stew to her lips and got distracted for the next ten or so seconds, draining the bowl in one go. It didn't matter that most of the taste was missing, the earthy flavor was enough to break through whatever was wrong with her senses, that, and her mouth was still slightly soapy; so it didn't matter anyways. She had to chew most of the carrots and solids that she couldn't swallow straight away, which was the only thing that stopped her from climbing onto the table and dunking her head in the pot. Simple instructions. Soldiers knew, good food? Stop asking questions, full stop.

Hell chewed, and went for another, conversation-be-damned. She was hungry. Had it been days? Two? Three? Since she'd actually eaten anything other than bread, and whatever was in her stomach before she was frozen four years ago.

And stims. They were designed to grant some kind of long lasting energy too.

They weren't near a replacement for real food though, spiced, broth, food, carrots, taste; Hell lost herself for those thirty seconds, at least until the second bowl was missing and her body gave her a warning to slow down. It was a nice thirty seconds of nothing but flavor. The gunshots and the visions and barely cemented memories gave her peace to eat. Boot was good for something at least, when there's food in front of you, and you have time, nothing else matters.

"Whoah, Hell, slow down, you tryin'a choke or something?"

Horizon's voice brought Hell back down to earth, she set the bowl down; containing herself from going for a third straight away.

Cross Fire waved her wing, "Ah- let her eat how she wants."

"Says you, straw muzzle." Horizon shot back.

Cross held her hoof over her chest and turned her ears in mock surprise. "Goodness, was that a whole sentence? You're really improving!"

Hell found her voice, wanting to join in on the conversation. "Do you two always do this?"

"Nah, I'm new, remember?" She shrugged, "Horizon's got a wit to 'im."

"Same to you." He interrupted, "we're both pilots. It's basically in the code book that different field pilots have to bicker."

Cross clarified, "Transport and fighter-" gesturing to him and then herself, "are sworn enemies."

"They're only joking. To be clear. That is not code." Beach commented, not looking up from her stew. She was spinning it around with her hoof, idly, watching the chunks rotate at a different speed than the rest of the liquid. Hell looked up towards the next set of incoming hoofsteps to spot Spanner, who smiled a massive smile and sped up her trot around the table until she plopped down in the other spot next to Hell.

"Hey guys, Hell? How was your mission?"

Hell kept herself from shaking. "A success. I suppose."

Spanner's face turned to match Hell's upset demeanor, a sign she'd picked up on her blunt attempt at conversation. "I saw the acid damage down the side of your armor plates, you're gonna need a new suit."

Hell nodded slowly.

"Oh-" Horizon leaned forwards, "pay attention to this one Hell, you're about to hear th-"

Spanner waved her hoof in-between the two of them, "Okay! I don't ever get to do this." and sent Horizon a grumpy pout. She turned back, "Normally we have the simple outfit for most divers as they come through, which is why the training base on mars uses everything but the fancy pistol you have." She took a breath, "Soooo~ because you're bringing your equipment back in-tact, we got the go ahead to not only run experimental, buuuuut~" She giggled over herself, enjoying her presentation. "We're taking requests. Tartarus Diver experience is scarce, and feedback is important. So what do you think about your current equipment?"

Her horn lit, and a pad and pen rose up and set themselves on the desk. "I'll pass up anything important and we'll get it fixed before you go back out into the field, and if you want, you can make requests, like Horizon was saying." She tossed her head towards Beach, "Beach is in charge of all of the numbers, but Dither wants me to read over your suggestions before anything gets put in the system."

Hell tilted her head, "Dither?"

"The lead for the engineering department." Horizon answered.

"Oh," Hell shrugged, "I thought Star Spanner was the lead engineer."

"Me?" Her excitement bled into bashfulness, "No, there's so many moving parts. I'm just the Diver Associate."

"Because she's so personable." Cross Fire added, chuckling when Spanner coughed.

"Anyways-" The pen floated up, "So?"

All eyes looked to her, she rolled the taste of stew around her mouth for a second. "All of them need a supplementary hoof trigger, or something similar, the new Verdict itself needs a wire in for if the mouth trigger gets damaged. I lost it when my jaw got torn out, and had to run a manual fire with the Liberator."

There were a few blinks at 'jaw got torn out'.

"Something like the older battle saddle models with an alternate firing mechanism. I have wings so... I could roll a trigger at my side, command inputs be damned, I need to fire my gun. That being said, I could do with one of those leg bands, just in case. Something simpler than the full tac map and all the features. Some basic hardware to work my suit if something gets damaged. Twice now the speakers have gone off on me, and the only recourse was taking the helmet off."

Spanner continued to scribble.

Hell kept talking, she felt like she had to. Spanner looked so excited. "I could also do with something lighter. A lot of the armor plating is... superfluous when the bugs can-" Images of the inside Sharp's skull assailed her. "the... I mean- they can cut through the armor plates pretty good, and the acid is very dangerous..."

Hell didn't mean to trail off, her mouth closed on its own.

"Were you thinking about some kind of anti-corrosion mesh for the sleeve?" Spanner said, still scribbling down everything Hell had said.

Horizon looked concerned, having caught why Hell had stumbled.

"Hey Hell, pass me another bowl wouldya?" Cross Fire waved her hoof. Despite not knowing why she needed a second bowl, Hell still reached over and moved to her awaiting hoof.

"Hell?" Spanner asked, tapping the pen on the pad.

"Huh? Oh- uh- no, I don't know. I have no clue how something mi- I-" Hell shook her head, "I don't know. Reflex Armors tend to be immobile, that means dead. It'd be nice to not worry ab-" Hell watched solid concrete melt before her eyes, and her heart skipped a beat, as if wondering what the acid would have done to her had she not moved in time, "... It- maybe. Something lighter, so I can move faster. The plates don't help much."

Cross chuckled, "First mare I've ever heard of wanting less armor; how fast are you moving down there anyways?"

"Pretty fast." Horizon answered, "I've seen her run."

I wasn't fast enough.

"Are we just not gonna talk about it?" Hell asked, blurted more like. She wanted to snatch the words back from the air as soon as she realized she was saying them, but it was too late. She said it, she couldn't pretend she could ignore it anymore. She couldn't do whatever they were doing.

Spanner's ears swiveled. "Talk about what?"

Beach clarified in monotone, "That one of these seats is empty."

Cross frowned at Beach, Spanner's ears folded down, "Oh."

Hell... waited... for some response. They all looked away from her, even Horizon. A beat passed, a sickening moment where Hell realized that they weren't going to say anything. "He-He, and... None of you even said anything."

"His name is on the wall of martyrs. He died for Equestria." Beach responded dismissively.

Hell snarled and met Beach's iron gaze with one of her own, "He died because we didn't get a tactical description of the bugs we might see out in the field. Monsters that can turn invisible? If we knew, if I knew, he could have made it."

Beach set her jaw, not breaking the aggressive staring contest. She statued herself and Hell turned towards Spanner. When Spanner kept looking at the ground, Hell snorted. "So what? We- what? That's it? He's dead? We'll get another one?"

"Hey- Don't disparage the dead." Cross interrupted Hell's incoming explosion of emotion, "and don't make assumptions of us. We've been out here too, we see ponies not come back. We're used to it. None of us thought he was coming back. We made our peace with that before he left."

"What does that say about how you think of me then?" Hell snapped back.

Cross shied away.

"Hell." Beach said succinctly. "You came back. This is war. Things are different."

Hell sat back down, not having realized she had stood. She pulled in a breath and tried to relax. "I want a monster manual, or something; to read over before I take anyone else out into the field."

"That can be arranged. I'll talk to the D.O. and get you a file."

"I'm sorry, Hell." Horizon interjected. "None of us... We want you to come back."

"I don't know how you do it." Spanner finally looked up. "You're like a superhero. Sometimes we have to send down pony after pony to complete a mission, our average is two and a half lives per operation parameters, and you just go and complete the whole thing and come back."

Beach raised her hoof to cut off Spanner, "We are all here to aid with your mental stability. Divers struggle with such, and look at it this way: you're our chance to finally care."

"That's why Spanner's got a pad and paper out to take requests. We want to help you. You're practically the first pony we can." Horizon gestured at the mare in question, who worked a smile onto her face.

Hell didn't like the dismissal of her grief with the entire process, even though what they were saying made sense. She didn't understand the theory, didn't grasp the reason; she felt like she was being fooled by her own logic failing her. She had so many words, so many words to say and none of them fit in her mouth. She had nearly died, she had killed, she had watched Sharp's brains explode from his face and would probably see it again. All she had to hope for until she died was that she could make it last as long as possible.

For the first time, Hell wondered what it would be like to not be a Diver.

She was barely old enough to drink on private property. A piece of her mind had subconsciously made the judgment call to just not think about it, but there were ponies right there who had thought about it. They weren't happy, or brave, or heroes or villains. They were only ponies. Hell was just a single tiny little pony, and all of it was just too much for her to solve. The whole thing was... sad.

Ponies dying for Equestria looked good on paper, they were heroes. They were brave. Hell didn't feel brave. She felt...

Not scared, but... alone. Depressed.

The energy to claw and fight at what wasn't fair just wouldn't come, because she would go out again, she'd fight the monsters, and maybe she'd even win.

Then she'd die, and from these ponies' perspectives, that would be it. They'd wake up the next Diver, share another pot of stew, smile and write on pads until they retired.

Hell choked and stuttered on words churning and emotions blurring in her head that wouldn't make any sense no matter how much she willed them to. Her mouth still tasted like blood. There was fire that baked her fur and made the bones inside her body press against the muscles in a way that imperceptibly hurt. She felt the reverberation, the impact, the crack of gunfire and the-

"HELL!"

Hell's hoof stopped. Her heart didn't. Her breathing dropped into gasping. Her wings shook as she tumbled back onto her flanks. The table was upturned, the stew was everywhere, Cross Fire slid away from underneath where Hell had pinned her.

"Wha- What." Was all she had to say between heaving. She was hollow, and her eyes looking out into the world didn't seem quite right.

"Behind you Hell." Horizon said, and Hell turned to look. He stepped up a little closer, being desperately careful not to startle her. "You're safe, okay? There's no bugs. Just relax."

Hell looked between the mess and Cross Fire, who was straightening out her wings, then back to Horizon. "What just happened?"

"Intense post traumatic stress response to our conversation." Beach answered. After stepping in front of Horizon, her look turned into a glare. "Be completely silent."

Seconds later, Hell caught the sound of whirring and metal boot presses similar to her own combat shoes, but heavier. The democracy officer entered the hall, scowling. It wasn't like the 'drill sergeant' scowl Hell was used to, it was the look of someone about to get revenge for something grave, and he was armed. His look passed across the room and his voice boomed out, "What in the name of Super Equestria is going on in here?" He settled on Beach. "Officer Breach. Explain. Now."

She stiffened up, "A conversational breach of conduct sir."

He snorted, not moving from the gangway exit. Hell realized that there was only one convenient way to leave the mess hall. "I said. Explain."

Beach took a shaky breath. "An altercation between two of our associates, Hell Diver and Cross Fire. The latter insulted the former, and the conversation came to blows, although neither were injured. Mrs. Fire was referring to Ms. Diver's species in her insult, sir."

His gaze passed to Cross Fire, "Is this true?"

"Yes Sir."

What.

A beat passed of him trying to bore a hole through Cross Fire's head through stare alone. Hell would have been frightened, had she not already nearly died so many times. He snorted again, "Since you are required, I'll have no choice but to send you to-"

"Wait- Sir." Hell interrupted.

He turned to her slowly, a creepy door opening with the associated freaky feeling.

Thinking quickly under the gaze, Hell worked something out of her mouth. "I overreacted. Neither of us were injured, there's no need for punishment, I made my point already." Luckily, Hell had plenty of practice making up nonsense to dodge the consequences of someone else's actions, only in this case, she was at fault.

"Hmph." A hoof raised with the force of hydraulic servos. "If that's the case, then I'm putting you on hall detailing for the remainder of your presence on this ship." He said to Cross. "If I hear of any more insults to your fellows, you will be terminated immediately, and with no chance of repeal. Be thankful that our resident Tartarus Diver is the forgiving sort, for I am not." He nodded towards Beach. "As you were Officer Breach."

He turned around and stomped back up the hallway.

Several ponies let out held breaths.

"Why did you do that?" Was the first noise to fill the silence. Hell wondered why she had spoken at all.

"You heard us didn't you?" Cross Fire jovially trotted up to her and offered a hoof. "We're gonna help you out."

Beach straightened her dress uniform, "If the D.O. learned that you were experiencing mental deficiencies, you would have simply been discharged."

"Discharged, you mean, I would have..."

Gone home? Home is gone stupid filly.

"Dead." Horizon clarified.

Oh.

"Dead drops happen." Cross Fire stated, "I've heard of one from a buddy of mine in ASC, traitors go in with no way back out."

Hell silently chose to ignore that. Despite the moral implications, traitors deserved as such. She turned up towards Cross Fire and took her hoof. "I'm sorry I hit you."

Then Cross Fire punched Hell in the shoulder hard enough to get Hell to stand up in a panic. "There, even. No apologies necessary." Cross Fire leaned in and smirked, "Bet it was fun being on top though wasn't it?"

Hell, caught off guard by the non sequitur, leaned back and felt her face get warm.

"Stop it, Cross." Beach interjected.

As soon as Hell heard Beach's voice, something clicked. "Was he saying your name wrong, Officer Beach?" Hell asked, "Or did I just remember it wrong?"

"My name is Beach, yes."

Cross chuckled.

"Don't you dare."

Between giggles, Cross said, "Her full name is 'Beach Berries'."

'Beach Berries' sighed a long suffering sigh of never being able to live something down.

"My stew!" Aether shouted in dismay, having come around the counter to see what was going on, only to see her work plastered all over the floor.

Cross shrugged, "I'll go get the mop."

"Hell Diver had a short PTSD episode." Beach clarified, at Aether's continued dismay.

Hell cringed, but the kitchen mare's disposition flipped on a bit with almost uncomfortable speed. "Oh? Oh- Well that's no worry then. We'll get this cleaned up and get you somethin' else filly."

Horizon hefted up the fallen table and set it back on its post.

"Actually..." Hell trailed off as everyone looked at her, "I'm- I think I need to go lay down, I'm..." She faked a yawn, "Reeeally tired."

Beach didn't miss a beat, still staring, "I will bring you the codex entry for bug species when it's available."

"See you then." Horizon said as Hell took her first few steps towards the only exit. She shot him a short smile.

Leaving. It was hard, she was lucky mess was so empty, but she could still feel the eyes on the back of her head as she walked out. Fortunately, Cross was walking back in with the mop and associated rolling bucket. Crossing paths with Cross, who let the mop out of her mouth.

"Going already?"

"Yeah..."

"Tired?"

"Yeah..."

"I'll see you in a few hours then." Cross walked past.

Hell stepped up onto the gangway and made her way through the ship. Everywhere was quiet. Even the hangar, fresh with a new Eagle Hell didn't stop to look at, it seemed like the crew was on low alert, or at least, there was some kind of 'night' time shift cycle Hell didn't know about. Despite the... embarrassment, and the emotional exhaustion. Hell felt better-ish. At the very least, she could pretend she felt better.

Until she got to her bunk, and heard the pair of voices from within. The door slid open and the chatter stopped as the two other mares inside, silhouetted by the lamp light on the nightstand, turned to look at her. The mare on the top bunk was a blatantly normal looking mare of some mix of dirt and hay browns. On the lower bunk was a lanky mare, soft pink fur, and bald like Jay. She had red eyes that cut through the gloom of the tiny bunk.

"Hi!" The brown mare waved, leaning down from the top bunk a little further to wave. "You're our fourth, right?"

Hell stepped inside, briefly considering just going to sleep on the floor outside the door. "Yup, that's me."

"Haven't seen you around before, you new?"

They don't know who I am?

Hell hopped up onto the bottom bunk, on the opposite side of the pink mare, the beginnings of a plan starting to form in her mind. "Yeah..." She was a Tartarus Diver. Less than a few days ago, she would have screamed it from a rooftop. "Yeah." She said a little more confidently.

The mare on the top bunk dangled herself down, her front hooves waving around. "Well I'm Butterscotch, this is Rayalia."

Hell sniffed, "Rayalia? That's pretty, are you from the core?"

The pink mare in question leaned forwards and sniffed Hell back, "Asteroid colonies." Was her simple answer.

"I'm Hell Diver." Which was where this conversation could turn.

Butterscotch snorted, "Hell Diver? Well, your parents didn't find much humour in that did they?"

Rayalia, much more subdued, commented, "Seems cruel to name a little thestral filly after one of the most revered military positions in Super Equestria."

"Hey, be nice you grump. She probably knows that already."

Hell raised an eyebrow, "Both of you recognize the word?"

"Thestrali for Tartarus, no?" Rayalia quirked her own brow.

Butterscotch waved a hoof and rolled back onto her bunk. "We work with a lot of loading crews."

Hell waited for further explanation.

Butterscotch stared on.

Hell summarized her comprehension of the moment. "Okay."

"What are you? Sleepy? It's barely post-shift!"

Rayalia snorted and sent Hell a knowing look. "She never lets me go to bed either."

They did say these ponies were all just as colorful as they are.

"So what's your deal anyways?" Butterscotch flipped onto her back. The ceiling was close enough that she could press her hooves to it, and keep herself from falling off. "What'd'ya'do?"

"Me?"

Uh

"No-" Butterscotch rolled her eyes and flipped a hoof, "The mare underneath me- yes! You. I haven't seen you before, which means you've gotta be on the other side of the ship or something! You're an engineer? Come on, I bet that tiny frame is great for fitting between the duct workings."

"I- I'm really new. I only started a day ago." Hell tried to work out how to lie without lying.

"What's up with the mystery? Just spit it out already!"

"Scotch, relax. If she doesn't want to tell us, she doesn't have to."

"But-"

"Leave her be."

Hell interrupted the tension. "It's okay Rayalia... The thing is... I'm-" A breath, "A Tartarus Diver."

Letting it out felt wrong, of course it did. Hell was trying to hide it... why? She'd already been told about the lives she'd saved by doing as well as she had. Spanner called her a hero. Why did she feel so guilty? Why did she feel so ashamed?

Butterscotch laughed, "Oh! And I'm the Democracy Officer!"

Rayalia looked confused, and she leaned forwards a bit more into the light of the mass produced electric lamp. The taller pink mare went through a few expressions as she got a good look at Hell. Her brow furrowed, her nose twitched, it looked like words wanted to flow out of her mouth but she kept her jaw clenched shut. Some idea of understanding passed between her eyes, and she leaned back silently.

"Whatever, you're a riot." Butterscotch chuckled again, "Diver, blimey, a tiny thing like you?"

Rayalia rolled her eyes, "That's enough Scotch."

As the brown mare went to retort, there was a knock at the door. Hell rolled to her side and her combat shoes hit the metal with enough reverberation to make the light flicker. She opened the door, getting an eye full of Beach standing with her muzzle directly against where the door was.

"Oh, hello."

There was a scramble of hooves as Butterscotch yelped 'commander breach' and fell out of the bunk trying to salute.

"Here." Beach hoofed a small but thick booklet forwards into Hell's chest. Hell didn't have a chance to respond before Beach opened her mouth again, then closed it, turned and trotted away down the hall. Hell watched her leave for a moment, then closed the door, still holding the book against her chest. Butterscotch was verbally stuck being flabbergasted by the turn of events and Rayalia had a tiny little satisfied smirk on her face.

Hell grabbed the first response to the silent question from her head and threw it out into the air. "She owed me a favor." She waved the booklet in question, and then rolled past Butterscotch onto her bunk and flipped it open to the first page.

"But-"

"Quiet please." Hell corrected.

Rayalia laughed quietly, and then rolled over.

Butterscotch blinked, her gaze flipping from the pink mare to this new pony that apparently had the standing officer wound behind favors. "Uhhhhhoookay." She got back in her own bunk, and Hell adjusted the lamp a few minutes later when she finally got past the sections warning about the dangers of reading.

"Hell."

Hell grumbled, and swatted at the hoof poking her shoulder.

"Get up girl. If I have to be up, so do you."

Hell blinked her eyes open, and removed her face from a laminated page. "Huh?"

Cross Fire, her mane also mostly disheveled and, what Hell was starting to recognize as a joking smirk, stood over her. "You snore like a fire alarm Hell."

Hell blinked, "No I don't."

"A. Fire. Alarm." Cross enunciated, poking Hell in the shoulder once for each word.

Hell looked over at the other two bunks. Both of the other mares were gone. Hell rubbed her eye. "I'm up." Cross made space as Hell rolled out of the bunk and onto her hooves.

Cross pushed a brush into her legs immediately. "Clean up, I'm gonna go get you something to eat. Priority mission came in a few minutes ago..." She had something else to say. "Just clean up." She backed her way out of the stack and into the hall.

Hell brushed her mane back a total of three times. Hard enough to pull some of her mane out. She jumped up, and stormed out the door. Duty had come calling, unfortunately while she was still half asleep. The soldiering part of her mind took over and she wasn't willing to wait for the mission briefing. She made her way out of the stack and into the hangar, where the quiet had been summarily banished by power tools, magic, ponies calling out to each other, and the general preparation that came hours before it was required.

A flicker of green on orange drew her over to Cross, carrying what looked like an impact helmet under her wing and weaving through the hoof traffic. Hell made a light straight for her, "Cross Fire!" She shouted over the cacophony, "What's going on?"

The mare caught her eye and stopped, reaching down under her barrel to a pocket, pulling out a rectangular prism, and tossing it to Hell, who caught it in her front hoof. Cross stepped up to her, light on her hooves, tapping in place like she had to use the bathroom, "Nutrient brick, Beach pulled them outta storage for you."

Hell turned it over, "Thanks-"

"I'd really love to talk more girl, but we both have to get moving."

Hell blinked, and made pace with Cross as she had already started half trotting away. "Wha- where are you going?"

Of course, after asking the question, was exactly when Hell remembered where she was going. That didn't stop Cross from sending her a humored look, "You forget already? Your CAS ain't gonna fly itself!" She jostled the tolerance helmet in her hoof for emphasis.

"Right." Hell nodded and fixed her face with determination. Cross barely had time to be confused by the expression as Hell launched herself forwards to hug the taller mare. Just as quickly as she did it, she retracted. Hell spun on her hoof and called over her shoulder, "I'll see you out there!" Hell didn't look backwards to check the orange pegasus' response.

A quick trot up to the elevator brought her face to face with Spanner. "Hey, I couldn't get anything oth-"

"Spanner." Hell stopped her before she could get going. "Sleeve first, work and talk."

"Sorry." Spanner blushed and lit her horn, the sleeve came floating over, much like before, only the process of having it be applied was far less rough. Armor plates began floating over for Hell to start fitting down over the sleeve as Spanner started again, "No actuators, and we couldn't figure a viable work around trigger for the Verdict model, but I could get you an 'arm' screen. It's backwards compatible with your visor but..." She levitated the thing over to Hell as she pushed her combat shoe through the leg brace. "The team didn't have time to work on the software, so only the visor or the screen will work at a time."

"Got it. Only use one at a time." Hell repeated.

A beat passed.

Spanner levitated another fresh helmet into Hell's hooves.

Hell stared before putting it on.

"Be careful."

"I will be."

Hell put on her helmet, suddenly, there was no more 'panic' or anxiety. She was a Tartarus Diver again, hidden behind a visor, toting Super Equestria's greatest in modular armor suits. Despite all she'd lost, she was still alive, still the best of the best. It was enough for her to not listen to the part of her quietly whispering to run her way out of that hall. She steeled herself with as much confidence as she could as she strode into the command room.

There was another mare in the same stark black and yellow striped armor Hell was wearing standing over the map. Beach was pouring over her data pad, and the Democracy Officer raised to his full height as soon as Hell entered. "Greetings Tartarus Diver, Super Equestria requires your aid."

Beach lifted her nose from the pad, "Fourty three minutes ago, a covert research station sent out a distress beacon. They detected massive E-710 readings encroaching on their position, a swarm thousands strong. The SEAF forces in the area that we rerouted are already reporting scouting pods by the tens." While Beach was talking, Hell came up to the table and took a look at the mission parameters.

Hard Operation
Mission, Ten Minutes
Extract Vital Scientific Personnel

A High Value Covert Research base occupied by a Patriot of great Scientific Importance has come under threat from a Cowardly Surprise Attack conducted by a massive Swarm of Vile Bugs.

Deploy and retrieve this pony before the Vile Bug Swarms overrun the base and the Scientific Mind is lost to Democracy for good.

"The Ministry of Science and Defense sent us a warning personally for the incoming attack. Another test of your skill in the field, and another chance to halt the tyrannical nature of the vile monsters bent on destroying our way of life." He went on, tapping his hoof on the screen to his side, leading to a photo of a badge lighting itself on screen. "This is Ferrous Storm, a lead scientist on the 'Shift Engine' project and a true democratic citizen."

"Learn the face, you'll be pulling him out, this is an extraction mission." Beach listed off.

Hell nodded, scanning the map with her eyes and frowning. "Why isn't the outpost on the map and why dispatch a team at all? Can't we fly a pelican in and extract the personnel that way?"

Beach was the one who responded by flipping her tablet around to show a loose map of the structure sitting on top of a sprawling network of tunnels. "The research outpost is a delicate series of scientific structures built into previously thought abandoned bug warrens. There is nowhere to land anywhere near the base itself without collapsing the entire terrain; and we believe that the only reason the bugs haven't converged yet is because they're unsure of where the base is to begin with. Taking time to find a landing point manually would alert them for sure."

The D.O. snorted. "Time is running short. It's only a matter of chance before one of those monsters escapes the SEAF troopers and leads the rest of its kind to the base."

"If that's the case, let's stop waiting around." The other Diver said, she sounded old or at least rough by comparison to how young Hell sounded. Hell nodded and tapped a few settings into the map for their drop point, the automatic P.A. system started to announce to the rest of the ship that the mission was about to begin and Beach sent her this look Hell didn't have time to decipher as she made her way up the grating to the Tartarus Pods.

The other mare had already gone in, so Hell didn't waste any time hefting herself up onto her back legs and locking herself in. It was dark in moments, with nothing but the screen near her chest to light up the tiny space. Hell popped open the pocket on the front of her vest and leaned down to nibble at the nutrient block as the final preparations began and the top plate of the Pod was sealed in with rivets.

Hell felt her hooves tingle moments before the 'chuck-thwump' of being launched into low atmosphere. She counted out thirty seconds to herself before passing out.