CD yawned as he slowly woke up, looking around the much darker and more somber-looking room he lay in. There were only a few dozen wall lights, and each of them were rather dim. Blinking and trying to figure out what was going on, he saw the rather serious face of the human doctor and the doctor pony wasn’t too far away.

She was looking at him critically, but the human’s gaze wasn’t too threatening to his groggy state of mind. As he looked at her though, he saw that she wasn’t moving. Nobody was moving, in fact.

“What the heck? What’s happened... why aren’t I immobile too? Is anyone else still able to move?”

No response came from the unmoving bodies around him. It was like someone had taken a picture of the entire area, and he was walking through it, everyone a still-frame. The eerie depths of the shadows on the walls seemed much darker that he expected.

“Okay, really weird. But what could cause this? That Necromorph Princess thing?”

The lights flickered once.

“Okay, everything is stopped, and power might fail. Now this is bad. What do I do? I can’t ta-”

The lights flickered again, staying off for most of a second. As they came back on, he felt his insides go cold. Everyone in the room had disappeared.

No noise, no sense of motion, no glow of magic, just gone.

“Shit, and I don’t have a suit or weapons... what’s going on, anyway?” CD tried to think of a logical explanation, but came up with nothing.

The lights flickered a third time, and this time did not come back on. Sitting in the dark, CD began to hyperventilate. He didn’t know why, but everything about this seemed wrong, and then the lights going out only made that feeling worse.

A light turned on, in the distance.

It was a single, lone lamp at the end of the hall. The soft, red glow of it barely illuminated anything, but at least it was light.

“Light at the end of the tunnel. Yeah, right.” Despite the absurdity of the comment, CD walked towards it, having no other option.

As he stumbled around the medical equipment, CD saw another light, this one closer, turn on. It too, was red.

“Okay... creepy. But so far, so good.” Another red lamp turned on. “Okay, now it’s not funny, what the heck is with these lights?”

Another one came on, followed by another.

And another.

And another.

Each was closer to him, and now that they were close enough for him to see what they shone on, he no longer felt the urge to go into them.

The people were back, but they looked dead. Not like a necromorph, but like murder victims, slashed and cut, with their eyes torn out. As he watched, another lamp turned on, coming closer still to bathing him in its light.

He could see, to his horror, Summer standing in the midst of a group of the dead people. She was staring at him sadly, then looked away as she realized he was staring.

The dead people, as one, turned to regard him. Another light came on.

“Okay, enough, wake up, wake up! Craaap...” He did his best not to look at the worst of the mangled yet obviously somehow alive bodies before him. He did everything he could to make sense of the situation, but no clues came to him.

“Copy...”

One of the bodies spoke, in a harsh, guttural tone. It sounded like a snarl, but the pony was expressionless.

“Wh- Wh- What do you want?” CD did his best to not shiver in place, only having a bit of success.

“C- Copy... Data....”

Another of the mangled forms had spoken this time, but in the same voice.

“What do you want from me? Just don’t hurt me, what are you?”

“Copy... Data... M- make us...” The puppeteered human spoke in the same gurgling, sepulchral tone as the ponies had.

Suddenly, the next light snapped on, washing the world around him with red, and he saw that he was right next to the human doctor, her body held in a pained rictus. Her head slowly turned towards him, like all the others had.

“M- m- m- make you...” He gulped. “Make you what?”

Fearing some terrifying scream or damning rumble, he wasn’t prepared for Summer’s calm voice speaking from behind him.

“Make us whole, Ceeds. Make us whole.”

“H- How? I d- don’t even know what that m- means...”

CD slowly turned, to find Summer, to make sure she was alright. To ask her what she meant, and what was going on.

Summer stood before him, a faint haze of symbols in glowing red floating around her, her eyes like holes punched into a projector screen, with a bright, unearthly light pouring from them.

She stepped forward, lithe and graceful, her horn etched with the mysterious, strangely familiar symbols. She was taller now than he was, the height of a princess, or a human. She leaned towards him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, just a simple sign of affection that made his heart flutter.

“You’ll know what to do, Ceeds. You’re my champion. Just make us whole, so we can be together. Please.” Her voice was strained, like she was fighting back tears. “Please, Ceeds, it hurts being broken like this. T- torn in half... please...”

Faint cracks began appearing in the edges of his vision, like lines of nothingness encroaching on reality.

“But, what’s with the dead bodies?” His voice was weak, growing faint.

“We’re all broken... we’re so alone... please, Copy.Data...”

Every single body in view looked at him and spoke as one, with a voice that ground like stone on stone in the depths of a planet, that burned like the heart of a star. It was icy as the depths of space, and twice as empty.

“Make us Whole!”

Copy.Data woke up with a half-shout, jolting upright on the flimsy cot and toppling it over. The gentle susurrus of everyone’s movement was a calming noise as he disentangled himself from the bedding.

“Woah, what was that? I’m just hoping that was a nightmare... at least everyone is okay... I hope.” He winced, half expecting everyone to suddenly turn into zombies.

The human doctor had stepped over, to help him up to a sitting posture. “Are you alright?”

“Not really, I had a hell of a nightmare... Wait, where’s Summer? Did you kick her out or something?”

The doctor looked confused for a moment. “Who? Oh, right, your imaginary friend. Listen, there’s nothing wrong with you physically, so I’m letting you go, we have injured folks who need my attention more. But you really should try to let go of your hallucinations, they aren’t healthy.”

The doctor turned and walked away, looking a bit frazzled as she checked on the next patient.

CD just sat and mumbled “Inconsiderate pricks. All be dead if I didn’t help...” He looked around to try finding Summer. She had to be around somewhere, right?

Johan was walking swiftly through the sparse crowd, seeking out a few of the others from the group he knew.

Frost was walking stiffly behind him, their time to relax over. Johan had stated the need to get Sweetie to a safer place as soon as they could, and was getting ready to ask a few of the other folks if they’d join.

“Alright, Frost, you go ask Sketch. I’ll be asking that Copy guy. Can you do that?”

The female officer nodded and spun on her heels, looking for the stallion.

“You Sketch?” she asked one of the ponies.

“No, this is Patrick.” a light pink stallion, dressed like a tourist in a hawaiian shirt and a flowery, neon green shorts, said from the surrounding ponies.

The officer let out a small huff and put a hand on her hip. “Do you have any idea where he is?”

“No. Maybe. Is this on the test?”

Frost’s brows creased slightly as she put her fingers to her temples. Patrick just shrugged and went back to his daisy sandwich.

“Nevermind.” She went to the next pony, this one looking like it was brighter than the local rocks. And armored, still. Also, he was asleep, with that orange filly draped across him, snoring slightly.

“Sketch?”

The stallion didn’t answer, he just lay limp on the bench, eyes closed.

Frost kicked him slightly, and when that didn’t work, she tried harder.

This, however, simply dislodged the younger pegasus, causing her to wake up as she tumbled off of him. His head, the only part of him without armor at the moment, shifted slightly in the process.

“Hey, why’d you wake me up? I was comfy there...” The pegasus filly wiped her eyes with her Wonderbolts-themed jumpsuit.

“The stallion you were sleeping on, is his name Sketch?”

“Yeah, why? Most of you security-types are usually looking for me.” The filly seemed utterly unintimidated by the much taller, armed and armored, woman standing in front of her.

She didn’t say anything, only lifted her up (making the filly yell “Hey!”) and put her aside before taking a good look. She remembered him, sarcastic and very annoying. She frowned and patted the filly away before giving the stallion a hard kick.

“Wake up.” She kicked him hard enough to shift him almost a foot to one side, and he fell off the bench head-first. The barely-padded carpet of the hallway met his face with a scrunch-clunk, and he woke up with the unpleasant sensation of rug-burn on his forehead.

“Ow... Why am I face first in carpet?” Sketch asked hazily. Scootaloo answered him with a dead-serious, “The cops found ya. Whatever it was, I hope it was worth it.”

“I haven’t done anything yet though, those zambies did it.”

Scootaloo giggled, covering her mouth with a hoof, her serious expression ruined. “Nah, I have no idea, but she wanted to talk with you.”

He groaned. “Five more minutes... ”

Frost pointed her gun to his head, poking it at his muzzle.

“Up. Now.”

“Idonwana.”

Frost cocked her gun, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear. Frost founder her arm suddenly being tackled by the orange filly in the blue jumpsuit. The sudden addition of the filly’s admittedly scant weight threw Frost off balance, and her Divet discharged into the deck. Everyone in the refugee camp turned to see what the commotion was.

“Wah- Fucking brat...!”

“What the fuck, lady?!” Scootaloo shouted at Frost. “I know the law pretty well, and you can’t just go pointing guns around without at least an accusation!”

Many of the people in the crowd murmured in agreement.

“If you haven’t noticed, laws don’t apply in an apocalypse.” She turned to the sleeping stallion. “I’m not going to repeat myself again. Get. Up.”

“I don’t care if it’s the day after fuckin’ christmas, lady. You’re a cop, not a two-bit bandit out of a vidcast! I’m just a kid and I seem to have a better moral compass!”

The crowd was nodding and pressing closer to Frost. She’d seen riots forming before, and they were much different than a random mob of necromorphs. Necromorphs didn’t use tactics or throw things like molotovs. She also knew she didn’t have enough time or bullets to kill every person h-

She stopped for a moment as she realized she was contemplating killing every person in the refugee camp.

Frost lowered her gun shakily, swallowing the knot in her throat.

“Just wake him up and get him to Johan.” She said, pushing through the crowd.

A confused and fluffed-up pegasus filly watched from her spot next to Sketch. “Y- yeah, I can do that...”

CD wandered through the slightly crowded hallway, finally spotting the slightly-imposing figure of either Frost or Johan; though he couldn’t tell which was who inside that armor.

“I could make a joke about all humans looking the same in suits, but I guess the same goes for ponies too.”

The figure waved to him, signaling for him to come closer.

CD approached him or her, wondering exactly what the big deal was. Pushing past the other folks in the way cautiously, he arrived near the human, who retracted its helmet. It was Johan, plus several chemical burns and some dried blood at the edges of his eyes and nose.

“How’re you doing? You don’t look so good. Seen worse, but just wanna make sure and all.”

“Eh, Miss Cadenza’s shrieks hurt a lot, and all of us were at least a little deaf when we got back. Those puker-things also got me a little. In all, it’s been a hard few hours. However, I wanted to ask if you’re willing to go back out there.” Johan had sat down under a lamp, his hair casting his face into shadow.

“I was in demon-princess’ face for a bad scream, and I’ve been impaled, almost twice. You sure got the easy route, didn’ya? Yeah I’m ready. Although I do wanna know where Summer went...”

“Who?”

“My marefriend from home. We met up back at the school. The doctors say I hallucinated her. They wouldn’t even act like she was there. Is having a marefriend that bad?”

“No. Well, nobody else has commented on that to me, at least. What’s she look like? Maybe we can find her before we leave.” Johan looked pensive for a moment. “But, on the same note, she might want to stay here, so you don’t have to worry about her as much.”

“Yeah, that would be better. I just like having some form of normalcy, y’know? I mean, I don’t even know where I’ve been for five months or so.”

“Five months? Jeez. So, you’ve been here since, what, late August last year?”

“Aug- I’ve been out for almost a year!? Damn scientists strapped me to a table, tried to suck out my brain or something through my eye with a needle, and threw me in a cell, rinse and repeat. Then they wipe my brain for a year, what the fuck!?” CD was shocked. “And they wanted me to remember something, whatever it was, it had to do with sequences.”

“Jeez, man... Hey, listen, we have to try getting to the military base. Sweetie Belle is listed in the top eight MVPs, barely below where Miss Cadenza was.” He sighed at the thought of his failure to save her. “As such, we need to get her to the base anyways. We can get help there, and try to find out why that group of researchers or whoever they were wanted you.”

“Yeah, and you said Sweetie? Yeah, met her in the school. She’s tough, but in my experience, she’s also a smartass. Wouldn’t cross her, but she’s still annoying.”

Johan shrugged in response. “Well, all I know is that she’s on my list of MVPs for this area, and that she’s listed as a class-4 asset, which basically translates to ‘don’t drop her on her head, please, she’s family’. Nothing strategic, but her family is in that base, waiting for her. And they’re likely of enough importance to get those scientists off your back.”

“Class-4? She didn’t look past grade four. Those must be some rich or important folks. I mean, she walked into an Auto-Store completely unequipped, and walks out fully decked out and armed with a damn Tesla Gun. A fourth grader with a Tesla Gun, can you believe that crap?”

“Pretty impressive. I asked a bunch of the retired Security officers to keep an eye on her while she’s here.” Johan shook his head, the action showing more of the side of his face in the light. CD got to see that the chemical burn covered most of his neck and some of his cheek. The scarring was painful-looking, and it still had the angry, red look of fresh injuries.

As Johan finished his head shake, the afflicted skin was once again cast into shadow.

“Nasty acid burn. Sketch got it all over his back, and it looked real bad. You sure you’re okay? I have one medigel left.”

“Yeah, this was from a few hours ago. Hey, did you realize, it’s only been around eight hours? All this shit, and in less than a third of a day.”

“At least it’s not boring, right?” CD chuckled at his attempt to lighten the mood, despite how poor it was.

“I suppose not.” Johan looked into the crowd, and CD followed his gaze to see Frost wading through the crowd. “Hey, Frosty. What was his answer?”

Frost heard her name and looked up to see Johan. She dared not say a word and just continued forward, refusing to meet his gaze as she ran to her post at the corner of the camp, putting a hand to her head as violent thoughts crossed her mind.

“Frost?” Johan watched her as she left, wondering what Sketch could’ve said to piss her off like that. Standing up slowly, he mentally debated heading to comfort her or going to check on Sketch.

Deciding that she needed some time to cool off, he started towards where he’d last seen Sketch, stopping for a moment to conclude his talk with CD. “Hey, I need to check on my friend, you can get your armor and stuff from the room on the left, it’s being used as a storeroom.”

“Okay. After I get set, we move out?”

“Yeah. There’s a Bench in there, if you’ve got any power nodes to put into your stuff, too.” Johan waved one more time and waded into the crowd, his helmet sliding up and over his head.

“I have only one.” CD said. “I don’t recall how much that’ll help my Plasma Cutter, though.”

Only the sounds of people moving replied.

Sketch was a little confused. He’d woken up, rather groggy, with a headache. He didn’t remember getting anything alcoholic, and the fact that he was half off the bench also made him confused. On top of that, Scootaloo seemed to about four inches from kissing him, if only by proximity.

“Hey, you need to get up.”

As far as headache-y wake-ups go, it wasn’t the worst he could imagine, but he had to wonder why Scoots was so close to him, and why he was on the floor, and what required him to be moving already.

“Okay, okay, I’m up, what happened?”

“Well, one of those officers from security came over, and started roughing you up in your sleep. I made her go away. I think, at least. Either way, that lady has some serious anger issues. Maybe she needs to get laid.” Scootaloo’s voice had become rather thoughtful towards that last sentence.

“That sounds like Frost, and she’s a total bitch, and thanks for dealing with her in my place Scoots.”

The pegasus filly smiled and pressed close to him as she helped him up. “No problem, Sketch. And it sounds like you’re just about right about her. ‘Least she backed off before she shot you though.” Scootaloo shook her head. “She almost shot you, and would’ve if I hadn’t tackled her damn arm!” She sighed again, still sticking near him as he got ready to navigate the people all around. She stopped, though, when another armored figure advanced out of the crowd.

The voice from the speaker, though, was Johan’s, and Scootaloo relaxed a little. The human officer strode over and spoke above the soft noise of the refugee camp. “Hey, Sketch, what’d you do to piss of Frosty?”

“While I was sleeping on the bench Frost started hitting me to wake me up or something. What the fuck is her deal?”

Scootaloo piped up. “She also put a gun to his head and almost shot him.”

Johan looked back and forth between the two. “What the hell? You mean she just sort of snapped for no reason? Shit, all I asked her to do was ask if you wanted to come along when we took Sweetie to the military base to be with her family.” The man rubbed his faceplate exasperatedly.

“Yeah, nice girl you got there, she’s a keeper. Sorry if I don’t stick my neck out for her.” He put a hoof around Scootaloo, “If it wasn’t for her, I would be dead... We don’t need anymore death.”

Johan nodded. “Yeah... I’ll go talk to her. Shit, I hope she hasn’t snapped... Hey, do you wanna come along? We could use another gun watching our backs on the way there.”

Sketch thought about it for a moment. “Well, only if Scootaloo can come with me.” Sketch lightly squeezed her.

Johan shook his head. “Fine, but you better hope she’s old enough, or I’m not going stop the law on this one.” Johan threw his hands up and turned to walk away.

“Old enough for what?” Sketch turned his head slightly, but his friend had already left.

“Nothing much... Say, how old are you, Sketch?” the teenaged filly asked, spreading aa lone wing across his back.

“Nineteen, you?”

“Fifteen. Just right, in my opinion.” The filly smiled and tugged him to get him moving. “Oh, and I think I heard someone mention a Bench in one of the rooms, I want to go use it if possible, I have a few nodes to integrate.”

Sketch zoned out for the first part of her sentence trying to figure out what she meant, but the mention of the bench snapped him back into reality. “Okay, lets go then.” He took his hoof off her so walking would be easier, but she kept the wing on his side. He vaguely remembered the gesture being important among pegasi, but he couldn’t remember exactly why. Maybe it just meant they were close friends or something, a gesture of trust and all. After all, she did just save him, so that explanation seemed to work for him.

Frost was sitting down on one of the ‘rescued’ couch cushions she’d found and added to her little corner of the wall. Considering the sheer number of people keeping an eye or two out down the hall, she only really needed to stand if something showed up.

The officer’s gloved fingers glided across Jackie as her mind wandered, the voice of her father poking at the back of her head. Her foot was tapping in anxiety, her movements jittery and almost involuntary.

“Frost.”

Johan’s voice from behind her startled her so badly that she had her gun out and aimed for his chest almost before she could check the movement. Barely restraining herself from pulling the trigger, she shakily lowered the weapon.

“Hey, Frost, what’s wrong?” Johan’s voice was calm, and sincere as he asked her the question. Still, he hadn’t made any moves to get closer, and his helmet was still up, encasing him fully.

“Your friends are lazy fucks,” she managed to say, turning away from him. “It’s the apocalypse and he’s sleeping; it’s embarrassing really.”

“Frost, we slept, too. We probably slept better than they did.” He crossed his arms, his voice losing the calm tone to it. “And why the hell did you pull a gun on him? Frost, I’m worried about you. Tell me what’s actually wrong, Frost, not just some excuse.”

She let out a huff. “Since when do I ever give excuses?”

“Since now, Victoria. They’re civilians, not soldiers. You can’t go treating them like shit and stuffing guns in people’s faces just because, Victoria. I’d hate to have to discipline you, especially since most of them aren’t options right now. I can’t just send you home, or give you an unpaid leave, or what have you, but I can say that if you pull some stunt like that again...”

Johan paused, then turned away from her.

“If you do something like that again, then this relationship will be strictly professional. Understood? I cannot have a loose cannon in a situation like this. This is not the apocalypse. This is not an anarchist state. This is an emergency. And shooting people for the fuck of it will not be allowed, got it?!”

Johan nearly yelled the last two words, holding them back in a strangled snarl instead. Frost had never seen Johan say anything with less than a full measure of cheerfulness.

She paused, a sick grin curling on her. “Really?” she laughed. “Is that all you got?” Her laugh was slightly louder after a few moments.

Johan’s helmet slid back, and Frost saw that his face a stony wall of fury. He lifted his hand and waved it a few times, something Frost recognized as someone using the holographic interfaces from the suit. With a start, she felt her suit go limp, the two-hundred-plus-kilo suit suddenly weighing her limbs down. A moment later, and it hardened again.

“Frost, I love you dearly, but I will not hesitate to space you without a helmet if I have to.” To accentuate his point, her helmet retracted and he in front of her, jabbing a finger in her face. “The lives of all these people are far more important than me or you, got it?! I will break my goddamn promise if it means they live.”

“I knew I couldn't trust you...”

“Frost, I’m not the one breaking trust here. You’re the one threatening civilians, assaulting them, and then disobeying the chain of command.”

Frost only shook her head, still laughing slightly. “If I told you, you wouldn't understand.”

“Try me, Frost, don’t just lock me out and force me to do something I’ll hate myself for.”

“I’d rather that happen... than for you to know.”

“Tell me Frost, please.” Small tears glistened in the edges of Johan’s eyes.

“No.”

Johan continued to stare for a moment, then sighed. He made a few motions with his hands again, and she watched as her helmet shut over her head. All the lights in it were dark, and the noise from the camp had been shut out entirely.

Over the suit comm, she heard Johan mutter, “Fine. I’m sorry, Frost.”

She felt the light coming through the visor slits go out as they slid fully shut, and her balance was lost as she tipped slightly. The sensation of movement soon accompanied it, but it was dark, and stifling inside the suit. Much of the suit’s systems had been deactivated, leaving her in the deepest of shadows and left with nought but the company of the dead.

Copy.Data finally found the Bench, and tapped his hoof to it. The holographic button flashed, then showed ‘Accepted’.

The whole assembly rose with a ratcheting noise, before the two ‘wings’ of the Bench flipped out to either side, exposing the microcircuitry array. The whole thing was designed to do much of the work for you, but it still required designated input.

While preparing to activate the Bench and begin working on his equipment, he saw a disabled power-box on the wall. Leaving the Bench open, he trotted over to the box mounted to the wall and pried it open. Inside was another Power Node, not connected to anything important.

Reaching in with bionic fingers, he easily disconnected it and returned to the Bench. Standing up, he looked at the display, which automatically updated for the number of nodes he had, along with his equipment.

Three options appeared on the screen; RIG, Stasis Unit, Plasma Cutter. He reached for the buttons, pausing for a moment to decide which one he wanted to look at first.

He briefly wondered what two Power Nodes would do to his Plasma Cutter. More ammo capacity would be a plus, but as far as he knew, the result would be random. But he decided to check his Stasis Unit. He knew what it did, but he’d feel safer knowing more details.

Tapping the symbol for it, he was brought to a small display, showing a tangle of circles, lines, and three-letter contractions on a background of his suit from behind. The first one was ‘DUR’, and this expanded to ‘Duration’ when he brought his mechanical hand near it.

“Hmm, extended duration, but for how long? Oh, there’s a little graph thingy in the bottom corner.” CD squinted at the miniscule readout, and saw that the increase was from 2sec to 3sec.

“Hmm, maybe not worth it. How much can I boost my RIG?”

He pushed the other button to check its tech tree. The first available slot was the ‘HP’, and the tooltip explained that it would reinforce the suit’s integrity, protecting him better.

“That is useful, but just to check my options, I’ll give my Plasma Cutter a look. But I’m definitely putting one Node into my RIG.”

Poking the button to upgrade his RIG, he heard the Bench’s systems hum gently for a moment. Tapping the ‘back’ button, he then checked the upgrade path for his Cutter. Available were a pair of options, one for ‘DMG’ and one for ‘CAP, which were revealed to be damage and capacity increases, each by two points on whatever scale it used.

“Well, after that last encounter leaving me with more brain damage than normal, more firepower would be useful.” He commented idly to himself, as he tapped the button.

The Bench’s holographic interface blinked the words ‘Please place Power Nodes and Equipment on the work surface to apply upgrades. Suits may be worn during this time safely.”

With his past of trusting computers a lot more than other living things, he was perfectly fine with just going up and doing what he was told. Besides, computers weren’t evil unless you believe Sci-Fi movies.

As he lay back on the Bench, he heard the machinery in it hum comfortingly, and the faint hiss-fizz of the nodes being applied to both his suit and Cutter. Just a few moments later, it was done, and he rolled off and retrieved his faithful weapon. He turned back just in time to see Sketch and Scootaloo enter the room, and CD blushed under his helmet as he saw how intimate the filly was being with the guy.

Still, not his place to judge, and they both seemed fine with it.

“Hey man, whatcha doin?” Sketch asked.

“Getting an upgrade. Now I’m better armored and my Cutter does more damage. So, uh, you don’t mind Scootaloo, uh, nevermind.”

“What was that last part?”

“Forget it man, just forget it.” He gave Scootaloo a look saying ‘He’s more oblivious than you think.’ “So anyway, are you set?”

“Scoots wanted to come over to the bench and build stuff, you done?”

“Yup, those necromorphs are gonna have to try harder to beat me now. Banshee princesses won’t stop me for long. What'cha gonna build Scoots?”

“I’ve got a few Nodes, I was planning to fix up my civvie RIG and see if there’s any sort upgrades anything else might have.”

“Good idea, Sketch doesn’t have any Nodes as far as I remember, so once you’re done, we head out.”

“Yeah, and I’m going with you guys. I don’t wanna lose Sketch, now.” Scoots said with a slight grin.

“But, I’m not going anywhere.” Sketch said flatly, still unknowing of her meaning.

“Well, you’re going with your friend, that cop guy, right?”

“Johan’s not a cop.”CD said, not comprehending. “A military guy is closer. And he’s a friend, so he won’t cause trouble or blame us for getting into it.”

“Uh, he’s from Station Security, not the E-Gov. And I wasn’t saying he would, just that you guys are going with him, right? And I’m going, too, because Sweetie’s my friend.”

“My point was, he acts like he’s a soldier or something. He rarely has any time for jokes, and he doesn’t go anywhere or do anything without a loaded gun ready. Not that that’s unheard of in our situation. Let’s get going, we don’t know if the Necromorphs will find us. They’re sneaky bastards.”

“Uh, I haven’t gotten to use the Bench yet.”

“Yeah, let the mare build some stuff, also I am assuming Applebloom will sneak out with us as well.”

Scootaloo shrugged and turned to the Bench, quickly slapping some nodes down and tapping buttons. “Jeez, I wish I had my work RIG. EVA suits aren’t the best or most graceful, but they’re better than nothing.” Sketch imagined the sight, an astronaut Scootaloo sounded adorable.

“Whatever is best of the available options.” CD said, brusquely. “Nothing else really matters aside from staying alive. I don’t know for sure, but due to Broker missing, I assume he didn’t make it. We can’t let that happen again. Period.”

“Yeah and I’m not letting Scoots, Marshmallow, or Applebloom be next.”

Scootaloo snickered, finishing her actions at the Bench by hopping up and laying on it. A few passes of the automatic arms and the modifications to her RIG were done, producing a many-segmented chain of ‘health bars’ down the diagnostics line along her spine.

Sketch looked her up and down appraisingly. “Nice... What’d you do?”

“Just increased the resistor output from the RIG, allowing it to give me a little more protection.” She explained. “The nodes should be automatically re-attached once I get my work RIG back.”

“Neat.”

CD just shook his head at how silly the little lovebirds were acting. Heck, Sketch was even acting like he didn’t know what was going on! Of course, he’d have to be blind or something not to get it.

“So, we all ready? Where’s Johan?” Sketch asked, looking around.

Scootaloo shrugged and stepped close to him again, just to spread her wing over his back again. “Idun-”

She was interrupted by Applebloom running into the storage room. She gasped and panted as she skidded to a stop. “G- guys! That po-leese guy’s gone nuts! He’s gonna space the po-leese lady without a helmet!”

She looked wildly back and forth at them, each of their faces coming to slightly-to-very-different expressions.

“Well she deserves it for the most part, she’s shot at me, threatened me, then tried to kill me in my sleep less than an hour ago.” Sketch looked apathetic.

“She nearly shot my junk off for talking to her, let the jerk suffocate.” CD deadpanned.

Scootaloo looked at them. “Guys, she may have been an ass-hat, but being just as bad as her isn’t the right thing to do! Even I wouldn’t wish a spacing on someone, or killing them at all!”

“Johan is the most stable person I know, in all the years we’ve been friends he hasn’t ever had a breakdown, she probably did herself in by doing something to break his trust.” Sketch sighed, “But, since we don’t know the full story, I’m going to ask and make sure he has a good enough reason to do this. You’re right, he may be security, but we don’t need anyone else going crazy, no offense CD.”

“Offense? What offense? I enjoy being nuts, it makes life interesting. But I should rephrase my statement: I’m going to try and save her, but if I don’t, I’m not going to spend any time mourning her whatsoever.”

“Let’s just hurry and talk to him before he does something he might regret later.” Sketch hurried out the door, following a swiftly-moving Applebloom.

Victoria could feel the air going stale. It was so hard to breath, and a terrible, pounding headache had blocked much of her ability to think, too. The air she breathed was noxious and foul.

She could feel her stomach churn and rise, the taste of bile tickling her tongue.

“So this is my death... Becoming crazed in an apocalypse, rather than dying on the field fighting, I’m a terrible soldier.” Her mind began to fuzz and she could feel herself slipping, her life playing in fast forward from the beginning.

She remembered the first day of school, her mother trying to urge her into the classroom as she held onto her scrubs for dear life, refusing to let go of the parent.

Another scene, this one of when she was a little older, she was in a dress her mother picked out and it itched like crazy, her mother trying to keep her from ripping it off and running off into the mud during a planet-side vacation.

Again and again happy scenes replayed in her head, then things slowed down and it stopped to her mother, weak and lying in a hospital bed, her face pale and her head balding from cancer. Her hands were intertwined with her mother’s, holding them tightly, the tips hot with fever.

Another scene, Frost was before a mirror, eyes red and puffed from hours of crying. In her hand was a pair of scissors, raising to her head. She grabbed a chunk of hair and clipped it off in a sloppy chop, letting her long, blond locks drop to the floor. Eventually all that was left was chunks of her hair, short and choppy. She blinked and in her hand was an electric razor, following the roundness of her head as she shaved whatever was left of her hair.

She was at the hospital again, surprising her mother with her newly bald head to match her mother’s.

A flash of light and she was in black, her eyes puffy and red again as she stared down at a simple metal plaque, her mother’s steel coffin drifting slowly towards Tyranis to hurtle into its depths.

She was in a classroom now, her face resting on an open anatomy book, drooling on the pages. The bell rang and she was awoken suddenly, her body up from the seat and out the door to her next class in her nursing studies.

She was walking on the sidewalk now, it was raining and she held her books to her chest, shivering in the cold.

Next thing she knew she was underneath a strange man, screaming and crying, trying to pry him off of her, his flesh rubbing against her and entering in a quick thrust, blood puddling underneath them.

She dragged herself home, falling into her fathers arms, both crying.

A few years passed and she was in the hospital again, her officer father being wheeled to her, his legs now permanently paralyzed. The shrapnel had hit him in the spine, they said, and the damage was fraying his nerves, literally. In a few years, he wouldn’t be able to move his arms.

She was home, her hand to her head as she held a bill in her hand, the numbers far too high to pay off. She looked over at her nursing books, taking in a deep breath before looking at her father who was asleep in his wheelchair, a blue blanket atop him to keep him warm. Another moment passed before she grabbed the texts and tossed them to the trash.

She was in her uniform now, taking her tray full of food to a table of new recruits, the officer located in the cafeteria. One of the superiors walked, no, swaggered over towards her, starting out with a ‘Hey there, pretty lady’, though he never finished the last word before she’d laid him out with a knee to the crotch and a chop to the side of the head, leaving him on the ground, moaning in pain and clutching his balls and head. She let out a small huff of triumphant, proud of her work, the training with her father paying off once again.

She was in the shooting range now, aiming her rifle at the targets, getting all perfect shots, as per usual. It was the day she rose to her second rank.

It was four months later, and she was on riot duty in one of the commercial areas, one of the groups of protesters over a new video game turning violent. Johan had been nominally in charge, his first assignment as such. She’d still resented the way he was always talking with her; though she had to admit that he did talk with everyone like that.

Two hours after that, a dozen rioters lay, unconscious, on the ground, with only two seriously wounded. Johan had surprised her, laying down simple, yet effective methods of ‘tagging’ the rioters to knock them out, rather than simply kill the leaders and let it peter out. The rest of the folk had left by then, either too scared to be trouble or simply bystanders that had been swept up by the flow of the crowd.

A few years after, Johan was, once again, her immediate superior officer. They’d been on different teams for a little while, but she was oddly glad to see the smiling boy-man as second-in-command for her new unit. She was shaking the hoof of a Nightwing, one of the bat-winged ponies that she had heard about.

Then it was just a two months ago, seeing Johan’s normally shining face oddly dull, his jokes lame. She didn’t know why, but she had started to resent him again, now that he’d gotten his new suit; a Triage suit, meant for combat medics.

It was a scant seven and a half hours earlier in present day, and her father’s corpse was attacking her. It was about to kill her, and Johan saved her. But only sort of, because she was the one who really killed the thing. But he’d distracted it for a moment, and that had saved her life.

A few hours later and she was pointing a gun at Johan’s friends’ groin and then at Johan’s. She could see herself slipping.

She was now pressed against Johan, their bodies grinding and bumping together, with her breathing heavy. Their lips pressed together, hands intertwined and warm, both officers feeling the warmth of each other. These actions, for some reason, provided a solace from that night so long ago, far above and beyond any form of therapy.

Again she could see her sense of sanity failing, it reaching its peak only a few moments ago with Sketch, pointing a gun at his muzzle simply because he was asleep. She could feel the bile again, wanting to pass her lips in disgust of herself, letting the situation take control.

Frost wept silently into her helmet, limp and broken like a doll, the years of struggling finally taking a toll on her body and mind. She had no idea why she hadn’t just told him... Why she’d been so sure he wouldn’t understand. He’d always understood her, and she’d acted like he was ignorant. And now, it was too late. He was going to kill her, leave her to the depths of space, until she drifts into Tyranis and joins her mother.

Waiting for herself to pass out, she suddenly felt more than saw her helmet come off, the soft lights of the airlock’s emergency beacons letting her see Johan, a gun in hand, and she was looking down the barrel.

Author's Notes:

And so the night has taken hold already.
What will come next, though...

Well, that's up to you, the readers. Pay attention to the polls, and be sure to keep voting.
One character up. One character down. Every vote counts.
Current Roster is as follows:
Johan, Frost, CD, Sketch, Scootaloo, Applebloom, Sweetie Belle

Thanks to the following for contributing to the story so far:
Itsmyfuneral, starring as Sketch
Hunterz263, starring as Broker Wordsmith. May he Rest in Peace.
Rosethorn, starring as Victoria Frost
SomeGuy, co-starring as Johan Allegro
The Pieman, as Copy.Data