A single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. To live is to be slowly born.

~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Chapter 2: 9 Liner

“It’s right over here.” a feminine voice whispered, waking me from my dreamless sleep. I blinked in recollection of the day before, starting to question why I was still in a forest before another voice spurred me into action.

“Are you sure miss?” A gruff male voice replied, exuding confidence and calm. I forced my eyes open, seeing a gentle haze of light through the trees. It was about 0700 by the position of the sun.

Rolling over so I could have a better firing position, I scanned the outside of my hoochie.

“I swear this is where it was!” the female voice was getting closer, approaching from behind and to my left. I slowly removed the blanket, before I placed my C8 on the ground and silently put on my tacvest using just the velcro to avoid alerting the potential hostiles of my position.

“Look Ma’am, we’ve been looking for hours,” the masculine voice responded, “and you’ve just been walking in a straight line all night. I think you may be suffering from lack of slee—”

“I am not suffering!” she hissed violently in return as I quietly slipped my boots on, not bothering with the laces at the moment. “It’s probably just beyond that hill. I’m positive!”

“You said that three hills ago, Ma’am.” he said before sighing. I heard the clopping of hooves as they got closer, and with no way to tell how many mounted troops there were I would have to fight my way out if they found me. Definitely not a situation I ever wanted to find myself in outside a field exercise.

I quickly tied my laces and shoved them in my boots along with the sand traps on my pants and grabbed my rifle, adopting a really low crouch.

“Wait, this clearing looks used.” the female voice said, “Like somepony had laid down and rolled over a lot of the grass...” Hesitantly, a pink hoof crossed into my field of vision as the pink unicorn from before slowly trotted into the middle of my ‘campsite’, her eyes glued to where I had laid out my equipment the night before.

“Maybe someone was just camping here?” The male voice replied with a subtle metal clinking accompanying his approach. I gradually swiveled my C8 towards the direction the pink one approached from.

“No...” the pink one replied. “Can’t you feel the residue? Can’t any of you?” she said, looking back towards the metal clad leg that had just entered my vision. She was looking in my general direction, which caused me to freeze on the spot as my heart rate shot so high I was amazed the earth wasn’t moving under me.

“None of us can feel anything, Ma’am. Now please, not even the best archers from Canterlot could kill a manticore in less than a second.” The metal clad horse sounded exasperated, but maintained a level of patience that I only used when dealing with civilians. He must have been in the military, the national guard, or some similar service. “Do you even know what a manticore looks like?” he asked, before continuing his rant. So much for composure, I thought. “You know… big ugly lion looking thing with bat wings?”

Another pair of metal legs entered my field of view as the first attached itself to a torso and eventually a head with a horn atop it, fully clad in metal armour. He walked right in front of me, eyes fixed on the pink one while the pink one’s eyes followed him, only to stop when she noticed the pink of my face. Fuck.

Her eyes widened as she raised a hoof to point to indicate my location, apparently too stunned to talk. Thinking quickly, I realised the wall at my back was rather soft and squishy which would make very poor cover. I leapt from my crouched position behind the first guard, rolling to my feet slightly behind the unicorn.

There were three of the armoured ponies; two in silver armour, one in gold, all shocked at my sudden appearance. The shock faded rapidly however, as the group drew swords and held them aloft in identical golden glows. I blinked, ignoring the physical impossibility behind this and took aim at the armoured ponies. “Drop your fucking weapons!” I shouted, using all the negotiating skills I didn’t learn during my Soldier Qualification. “Put them on the fucking ground or I will shoot you!”

The two silver armoured ponies looked at each other before laughing. One looked at me and asked “What with, hmm?” while the other took up a defensive posture with his sword.

“Drop your swords!” I yelled again, “I will not warn you a third time.” In all honesty, I wasn’t planning on engaging these creatures. They may have seemed ridiculously impossible to my mind, but for all I knew I was an intruder and they were defending themselves.

“How about this,” the golden armoured one said with a voice oozing a calm authority. “You put your... weapon down, and we won’t detain you for harassing us.”

Police then. I thought, trying to fill another of the massive gaps of knowledge being in this realm of unfathomability presented. “Negative.” I responded, keeping my weapon level. Thinking on my lack of anything besides paracord to detain the four equines in front of me, I brought another solution to the table. “How about you four just back the fuck off, and let’s all just be happy, eh?”

“Put down your weapon, and we can be more than just happy,” he said, tone level, not revealing his intentions in the slightest.

“I am not putting down my rifle. Now back off, or put down your swords, or... or do something!” My mind was slowly starting to break. I was never meant to be doing this stuff, that was the job of my section commander. During all of our practice detentions we always had ideal numbers: two of us for every one of them. Now it was just one of me and four of them.

The silver clad unicorns started moving left and right in a two man pincer maneuver while the gold one slowly started to advance. I felt for the safety of my weapon, finding it was already on repetition. I aimed through the Elcan sight at the golden target in front of me, pulled the trigger, and blinked as nothing happened.

Stoppage... I never cocked the weapon... If I had an available hand, it would have migrated to my face very rapidly. Instead it was pulling back the cocking handle. Releasing the action, I heard the satisfying click of a bullet slamming into the breach. By this time, the police had completely encircled me. Fuck. As the two silver ones started moving towards me, I took aim at the golden one again.

Double tap.

Dash.

Down.

Crawl.

Observe.

When I regained control of my body, I found myself on the other side of a small rise offering some cover against return fire. The broken body of the golden armoured horse was laying on the ground in a limp pile, while his three companions stared wide eyed at the aftermath of my charge against their commander.

“Drop your swords!” I yelled shakily while my heart pounded in my chest. Battle drills had always made my heart pump, but actually taking a life... that was a new one for me.

The police glanced at each other before they adopted a look of pure rage and charged my trench. The one on my right was the first to go down, two bullets entered his breast plate followed by a third to his head. I barely registered the sound of the gunshots, hearing only the voice of a master corporal admonishing me for my sloppy technique. I took aim on the last target, and in an attempt to impress the voice in my head I payed closer attention to the principles of marksmanship. Time slowed to a crawl as the target approached, just begging me to plant him in the dirt.

I gently pulled on the trigger, feeling the first layer of tension slip away before the barrel of my weapon inexplicably moved further left. The bullet bounced off the pauldron protecting his shoulder rather than going through his chest, saving his life but causing him to trip. Again I took aim, again my weapon was thrown off balance. This shot went clear past his head. I readjusted my aim a third time, not bothering to look through the scope. As I pulled the trigger, I saw the expected golden glow surrounding the weapon. The red tracer flew from the barrel of the weapon, glanced off of the guard’s damaged pauldron, and tumbled right into the petrified pink pony.

Her eyes went wide as she let out a small whimper before slowly falling to her knees, and then her side. Seemingly undeterred, the lone guard continued his charge of bravado. My mind was blank, my limbs were numb, and the voice in the back of my head was asking me ‘just what in the fuck I was thinking’. The guard was only five feet from me at this point and I knew that if I didn’t act, I would end up a casualty too. I took aim once more, and pulled the trigger. Two in the chest, one in the head. The guard fell forward, the momentum carrying his body the last few feet to the barrel of my rifle as his sword clattered to the ground somewhere behind me. I subconsciously placed my C8 on safe.

I could see the gore inside the helmet that the 5.56 projectile tore through. I could see the bloody hole as it oozed a mixture of dark red and grey. I could see the face of one of my brothers-in-arms, suffering a similar fate. A light, raspy cough brought my attention from the grisly scene in front of me. Like a tiger to prey, I jumped from my prone position and ran to the injured, but still breathing creature. Her eyes were wide and pleading, but lacked focus as they darted back and forth. I took one last quick look around the clearing, making sure there were no other guards nearby before removing my field dressing from my tacvest.

Her breathing was raspy, short, and shallow. That meant she had a punctured lung. There was no exit wound. A dressing would only hurt her more at this point. I had to find a way to make an airtight seal on three of the four sides of the wound. Glancing around the clearing for materials, the only thing I could see that was even remotely close to something I could use was my groundsheet. Grabbing my bayonet, I cut off a small piece of the groundsheet and retrieved the gun tape from the top of my rucksack before I ran back to the injured pony. Placing the groundsheet piece waterproof side away from the wound, I proceeded to tape the top and sides to the pony’s chest.

Her breathing became slightly more stable despite the poor seal. The flap stopped excess air from entering through the hole in her chest while letting the same excess out with a wet spluttering noise. “Can you hear me, miss?” I asked, slapping her lightly on the cheek. “I need you to stay with me so you don’t go into shock.”

A slight whimper and subtle shaking were the only responses I got. Fuck. I moved quickly back to my rucksack, grabbing the radio headset. “Zero, this is One-One-Alpha. Priority radio check, over.” Five seconds. Ten seconds. Fifteen seconds. Command decision... I need a command decision! My nerves hadn’t even started settling since the firefight, and the knowledge of what I had unintentionally done to a civilian was doing nothing to calm me. Opening the rucksack again, I reached for the knob on the manpack radio that controlled the cryptography, and after a momentary pause I switched it to PT from CT.

When I was sure that I turned off my crypto and placed the radio in ‘plain text’ mode, I sent out another plea for assistance, hoping beyond hope to make radio contact with anyone who could reach a hospital. I knew my chances were slim, but I had to try.

“This is One-One-Alpha of the Canadian Forces. I have a wounded civilian and need immediate medical assistance. Respond, over.” I hoped beyond hope that someone would hear my transmission, come to my position, and call me crazy for shooting horses. In the last five minutes I had experienced more stress than I had in most of my time in the CF.

When no one responded, I switched the radio to channel two and repeated the message.

After another five seconds of waiting, I let out a small sigh of exasperation just before the radio beeped quietly. I blinked at the radio in confusion. Then more static graced my ear, followed by a beep from the radio, then silence. Then something else happened entirely: a voice responded with perfect clarity. “Okay, I don’t know who you are, nor what a ‘Canadian Forces’ is, but I’ll be there to help in fifteen minutes.”

I blinked again. And again. And one last time for posterity. Then, and only then, did I open the channel again. “Unknown callsign, One-One-Alpha. Thanks for the assist, but how are you going to find me? Over.”

The response was much faster than the previous one. “I’m gonna follow your mental focus, duh.” I blinked. Looking between the injured mare and my still unpacked camp, I decided that there really was nothing more I could do for her and proceeded to pack my kit back into my rucksack. The mysterious voice said I had fifteen minutes, so I only had ten minutes to be completely packed and cam’ed up.

My watch said I still had two minutes to cam up once all my kit was squared away. Grabbing the tubes of paint from my tac vest, I smeared small amounts of dark green over the parts of my face that stood out and smaller quantities of the light green on the parts that didn’t, creating an odd contrast that would inevitably make my face look less like a face. Then I smeared long streaks of brown across my face, completely unsure of why but remembering a sergeant say it worked amazingly well. Securing the tubes back in my tacvest, I hid my rucksack under the brush that was once my lean-too and concealed myself in a nearby bush with a good line of sight on the barely conscious unicorn.

My vigilance was soon rewarded with another pony, this one a light blue unicorn with a blue and white mane who approached the grisly scene nervously, eyes darting about with trepidation. “Hello?” she asked nervously, voice jittering slightly. “Anypony out there?” Upon seeing the dead guards her face blanched as some of the colour magically drained from her fur before she came across the barely conscious pink horse. “I know you’re still around here!” she shouted as she took in the extent of the wound. “Nopony would leave a wounded pony like this. Come out so you can help me.” I saw a small shiver go down her spine as she continued to survey the scene around her.

“I’m coming out.” I said, just loud enough to make sure she heard me. When her head turned in my direction, I slowly stood up, rifle at low ready. “You can help her?”

The unicorn’s eyes went wide as I materialized from a bush that must have seemed impossible to conceal a creature of my size. Her mouth hung open as her eyes traced my body, presumably attempting to discern where I ended and the forest began. “What are you?” she asked with a quiet inquisitiveness, which was odd considering she was shaking in fear.

“Can you help her?” I reiterated, ignoring her question. Priority was on the wounded unicorn, all other questions could wait.

She blinked before looking back to the injured mare whose breathing was coming in shorter and shorter gaps. “I... I can try.” she said with a confidence that didn’t reach her eyes. “What happened?”

“I...” my eyes scavenged the scene, searching for validation. “These authorities engaged me. I responded with force, and during the firefight she was hit by a ricochet.” The voice in my head kept calling ricochets don’t count as I persisted in my attempt to justify what happened. The resolve left my voice as I slung my weapon and whispered, “I’m sorry.” I knew my eyes were revealing a broiling storm of horror, but I didn’t care as I moved towards the unicorn I had unintentionally wounded.

“Wait,” the newcomer said, halting my advance. “I’m going to try and heal her.” Her eyes softened as she gazed upon my visage before turning towards the pink unicorn. My eyes studied her form as her horn was washed with a brilliant emerald glow which quickly spread to the improvised chest seal and ripped it off. Then the glow moved to the hole where the tracer entered. The sky blue unicorn scowled as her eyes closed, sweat starting to form on her brow while she worked. Amazingly, I could see the wound healing before my eyes. The hole was slowly closing while the blood seemed to be sucked back into the unicorn.

“That’s incredible,” I said, admiring her handiwork when she stopped. “How did you do that?” I asked, eyes alight with wonder.

She slowly looked from the pony on the ground, back to me. “Magic,” she mumbled with a tear in her downcast eyes.

I raised one of my eyebrows, trying to puzzle what was wrong. Then I looked back down at the pink unicorn. She looked better. Her coat had a healthy looking shine to it, the hole was patched up, she lay peacefully in the dirt, her breathing no longer hampered by...

She had stopped breathing.

I immediately put two fingers near what appeared to be a major artery in her neck. No pulse. How do you do CPR for a horse?

I rolled her onto her back, placing the palm of my right hand where I could see the bottom of her ribcage. After adjusting to approximately the center of her chest, I placed my second hand on top of the first and started the first of thirty chest compressions; step one to basic CPR. Check her mouth, make sure her airway is open. Fuck! I forgot to check it before I did compressions. My panic was slurring my drills. I stopped paying attention to the land around me, focusing only on trying to bring this unicorn back. I opened the unicorn’s mouth, put my lips to hers, exhaled twice, and waited to feel the breath on my ear.

Nothing.

I went back to chest compressions, my movements becoming more frantic as I lost control of the rhythm.

Breaths.

Compressions.

Breaths.

The cycle continued for what felt like an eternity, panic eating me inside before I was stopped by something unfamiliar touching my shoulder.

I threw a fist into the body of the perpetrator in an act of instinctive self defence. As I reflexively pulled my fist back, wincing in pain as if I had just struck a rock, I looked up to see a hurt and confused blue unicorn. “I’m sorry!” I quickly blurted, before looking back to the pony under my immediate care and resuming CPR.

“She’s dead.” the still living unicorn said simply, wheezing with effort. “I’m sorry, but she’s dead.”

“I... she died suffering...” I said lamely as I stopped supplying the not-so life giving compressions. She was gone, and there was nothing I could do for her. “I’m so sorry...” I whispered, a tear sliding unseen down my cam’ed up face.

Looking back to the still prone but clearly alive blue unicorn, I saw her now drawing slightly ragged breaths, pain etched across her face. “Oh no,” I said, a fresh panic invading my voice. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you too?”

“No, I’m fine.” She said through clenched teeth, holding her eyes closed and a hoof to her breast. “I just need... time.”

“Bullshit you do,” I replied forcefully, making my way towards her. “Let me at least look at it.”

“No!” she cried as she crawled backwards, evidently ignoring the pain it must have caused her. “Please, don’t!”

I stopped, completely unsure what to do so I thought back to my drills. They had only failed me twice that day, so I hoped the third time would be the charm. “I’m a first aider,” I said in an even voice, “can I help you?”

“N—” she started before her face twisted in pain and a low groan escaped her parted lips. “Tell me what you are first. Where you came from.”

I started removing my combat gloves, but as I was removing the right one I felt an oddly cold ooze covering the knuckles. It felt familiar, in a strange way. Examining at the green ooze as it stuck to my fingers, I noticed it had the consistency of highly congealed blood. Thinking little of it, I rubbed the residue off of my glove and hand with some leaves on the ground as I began to explain myself.

“I’m a human.” I started, kind of unsure where to go from there. “I’m from a country called Canada.” My gaze fell upon the wound of the unicorn which she still held as if her life depended on it. “If you think you need that much pressure, let me put a dressing on it.” I said, pointing at where I had punched her. “At least then you’ll be able to stand.”

She looked between my hand, and where I had rubbed my glove; eyes wide in fright as she slowly removed her hoof from a slight indent on her otherwise perfect coat. Her hoof came back covered in that same sticky substance I had just removed from my hand.

She obviously saw my look of confusion, as she drew in a ragged breath, waved her horn around a little, and disappeared in a wreath of green fire.

“I’m a changeling.”