Alicorn. Chapter Ten. (Patreon)

Chapter Ten.

The sound of rotten wood splintering upon impact with reinforced flesh filled the air, almost overpowering the chime of the crystal floating beside me.

“Log five hundred and thirty seven. Beginning of log. A few updates since the last log. Lab’s gone! A smattering of particularly dimwitted allies saw fit to lead the authorities straight to it, so I was forced to comply with my previously detailed evacuation protocols. Since then, I’ve camped in the Everfree Forest, solved a pegasus filly’s genetic issues, and relocated to the fabled castle of the two pony sisters. The subject, naturally, is still at my side, right where it should be.”

I blinked as my first creation’s splinter strewn body briefly shook itself, bits of shattered wood, dust and cobweb falling off of mixed patches of fur, a growl slipping free of its throat.

“Correction, I am currently relocating to the fabled castle of the two pony sisters. It’s…in progress. Igor? Bring your younger sibling in, would you?”

Waiting until the abomination gave me the affirming grunt I was looking for, I allowed it to slip past me, before making my way through the now open doorway.

The sight that met my eyes was akin to a lost memory, an ode to a time long before mine, most likely. Beneath dust, moss and scrawling vines sat the throne room that, from what I understood, had once held the ruling power of Equestria.

Tilting my head, I continued trotting forward, glancing around in curiosity as I spoke.

“It is my intention to convert at least a small portion of this location into a new lab space. Assuming no complications present themselves, I shall begin immediately.”

I paused just beyond the moth eaten forms of the two thrones that seemed to dominate the chamber, pausing and narrowing my eyes as an unnatural chill swept along my neck.

“...Assuming they do, I will resolve those issues first.”

Now, necromancy to deal with ghosts, or a homemade pesticide to deal with pests? Decisions decisions…

—

“Private.”

Bright Lance blinked awake, straightening instinctively.

Aside from an unknown armoured figure standing in the corner, nothing had changed about her circumstances. She was still sat upon a chair. The sergeant’s half burnt form was still practically mummified in bandages, chest slowly rising and falling atop the hospital bed he’d been interned in.

And she…was still in her armour. That explained the crick in her neck, ugh.

“Reporting, sir.”

The words were mostly just habit, more than anything. But they apparently proved the right choice, as the regalia covered form of a white unicorn with blue hair-wait a second.

“C-Captain Shining Armour! Reporting, sir!”

The stallion nodded as if she hadn’t just repeated herself, even as his eyes slid to the slumbering form of her superior.

“Hard Stare. Good soldier, but always got a bit antsy sitting around during guard duty. Guess he got more than he bargained for with this assignment.”

The captain of the royal guard’s gaze turned back towards her, and Lance tried to remember just when she had hopped out of the chair in order to stand at attention.

“How is he?”

Casting the futile search aside for the moment, the mare turned to look at the unconscious pony that had very likely inadvertently saved her life, resisting the urge to grit her teeth as she spoke.

“Recovering, but doctors have deduced he’s currently in a comatose state, sir. He…was closest to the blast when it went off.”

Shining Armour seemed to consider that quietly for a moment, and as Lance observed him, she realised she could see the same anger she felt, roiling in the officer’s eyes. Reassuring, to say the least.

The silence held for another moment before the captain spoke, neck shifting to allow him to stare out the nearby window which, even now, held the view of a ruined section of Manehattan. The smoke had stopped and the fires had been put out, but the wreckage remained, alongside the almost ant-like shapes of ponies combing through it for anything useful.

“I’ve spoken with the crown regarding this…”

Lance’s eyes widened, hope flaring in her chest only for the next half of the sentence to snuff it out in an instant.

“...but, something has Princess Celestia…distracted. And without both a firm grasp of the situation, and my own more direct duties back in Canterlot taking up my time, military intelligence have decided that someone with on-hoof field experience is needed to lead the effort in figuring out what this ‘Church’ was, or possibly still is trying to do.”

As confusion reigned over the stallion’s words, his next statement led to a storm of emotions and memories, each warring for space within the private’s mind.

“I’ve spoken with captain Iron Hoof, and he’s supported the situational report with his own personal testimony. Aside from another pony who perished in the fighting, you were the closest to Hard Stare before the blast went off.”

Shining Armour’s gaze narrowed, even Lance resisted the urge to shuffle in place.

“You displayed honourable conduct and exemplary qualities, ones befitting a leader when you rallied the surviving members of the guard in enacting a quarantine, preventing the…creatures, that you encountered from spreading out and potentially hurting civilians, and you maintained the core values all ponies should strive for when you prioritised rescuing survivors, saving Hard Stare’s own life in the process.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She could already see where the captain was going with this, but…no, she couldn’t. She wasn’t the right one for the job. She-

“Stow that insecurity, Bright Lance. It’s plain on your face, and misplaced.”

The stallion took a breath, before bowing his head, almost as if to emphasize his next announcement.

“As of this moment, it is military intelligence and I’s collective reasoning and decision that an investigative strike force dedicated to permanently dismantling the cult responsible for this mess…would be best suited under your command. As such, you are hereby promoted to acting field specialist, and may expect a more protracted ceremony when things calm down.”

The private (specialist, her treacherous mind reiterated) tried to speak, but no words escaped past her lips, leaving her mouthing vague denials as Shining Armour turned back to face her, a kind expression on his face.

“I understand this isn’t exactly how you would have preferred your promotion going, Lance. But the job needs doing regardless of how we all feel, and this can’t be left up to chance. So I’ll ask you only once…can I count on you?”

The question was apparently enough to dislodge the ball of anxiety that had caught up in her throat, leaving the mare staring back at her superior’s superior with a blank expression, his question echoing in her mind.

The job needed doing. If Hard Stare hadn’t been there to root out the den of monsters living a mere trot away from countless innocent ponies, what would have happened? If she wasn’t there the next time, what would happen?

Could she live with that? Tartarus, could she live with herself if she didn’t step up when called upon?

…Slowly, the stress left her frame, and sergeant Bright Lance found herself standing up taller than she had been previously, any tremor that might have plagued her voice having fled in the wake of her newly recovered confidence.

“Aye, sir. I’ll get it done.”

Shining Armour seemed to regard her once more, before whatever he saw satisfied him, leading to a slight upturn to his lips as he nodded.

“Good. The details will be waiting for you at the local station. Talk to Iron Hoof when you get the chance, S.M.I.L.E will be cooperating with the Equestrian guard in all this, so there’s plenty of paperwork that’s gonna be involved.”

Just as she finished suppressing the natural urge to groan at the hated foe of all guardsmares everywhere apparently coming for her yet again, a kinder note entered the captain’s voice, one that seemed to highlight her own exhaustion all too clearly.

“But all of that can wait. For now, get some rest specialist. That’s an order.”

Lifting her hoof, Bright Lance gave the stallion as sharp of a salute as she could, even as he turned about and left the room, leaving her to fall back to her previous seat.

Slowly, she turned to glance at Hard Stare’s comatose form, and even as her eyes began to droop once more, a sense of determination settled deep within her heart, a silent promise cast within her mind.

‘I’m going to find who did this, sir. I swear it.’But first thing first, she needed a proper bed of her own. A nap sounded…really, really good right about now, actually.

Ugh.