//------------------------------//
// Chapter 23. Well, That Was Unexpected 
// Story: H'ven Sent 
// by otherunicorn 
//------------------------------//

I don't know how long it took for us to walk from the public corridors into the service area behind Brainstorm's Advanced Weapons Development Laboratories. It can't have been long. After all, the distance we traveled was just a few dozen paces, but with members of the party wounded or dying, each second took on unreal proportions. I was in quite a lot of pain, so each step I took was an exercise in itself, but it wasn't me I was concerned about. My pain was a frustration, a hindrance; it prevented me from getting assistance for Crimson as fast as I would have liked. He was still on his hooves and walking, but was now leaning against Cacha, the only one of us who hadn't lost blood. She was also carrying the recently looted equipment of the four members of the death squad, including their armor and saddlebags. How she could even move while carrying that lot and supporting Crimson was a mystery.

Worry almost overcame me as the entrance to the lab came into view. The outer door had been battered in again, probably by Crimson's team. I had thought he said he and his team had been unable to get through it. Speeding up as much as I could, I hobbled and hopped across the remaining distance and into the airlock-like vestibule of Brainstorm's lab. Much to my relief, the inner, hatch-like high security door was perfectly intact. I awkwardly reached for the hoof scanner, but before I was able to get my injured leg up anywhere near high enough, the door began to cycle. That filled me with hope. I knew these hoof scanners really scanned a pony's whole body; presenting one's hoof was merely the way of activating them, but I hadn't reached high enough to do so. That suggested, like last time, the door was being operated from within. I moved back a little to allow the substantial, circular door to swing up and out of the way without hitting me.

"Hurry up, guys," I called back over my shoulder. The other two were just coming into view.

With some difficulty, I managed to get my unsplinted leg over the knee-high opening and onto the lab floor. The splinted leg proved to be too difficult to maneuver, so I gave up, reabsorbing the gun from which it was formed. The next attempt at getting in was more successful, although it certainly didn't qualify as graceful, as my forelegs collapsed and I faceplanted onto the floor before my rear-end overtook me and flipped me onto my back.

"So, our wayward test subject has returned," I heard Brainstorm say. Yay, they were definitely still alive... and here.

"So, you have got yourself all shot up and have come crawling back in need of our assistance," the other Brainstorm spoke into my mind.

"Actually, I only got shot up while trying to get back here to help you bastards," I muttered. "I came, bearing gifts."

"Such as?" they chorused. At least I had their attention.

"Hellite modifiers, of course. What else would you want?"

"She has a point," the first said. Something was off. I had heard him, and I meant with my ears. I rolled onto my front and scooted a few steps further into the lab. Standing there was a scruffy looking, pale jade-green unicorn with a sapphire mane and tail. He had little meat on his bones, and no muscle tone to speak of. He stood, hooves apart to help him maintain balance. He was, in effect, a stallion sized foal.

"You're out of the tank!" I exclaimed. Behind me I could hear the other two enter the vestibule.

"Partly," Brainstorm said. "Are those two with you, or should I lock them out?"

"They are with me," I said as a pile of armor, saddlebags and weapons bounced into lab through the open door. "Please, if you can, could you help Crimson? He's dying of a bullet wound to his guts. And before you ask, he's of value to the Hellite, and she is the one with the modifiers."

Moments later the red stallion was assisted through the hatch by Cacha. At least their entry was more graceful than mine. As soon as they were clear of the door frame, the hatch began to close again, no doubt directly under Brainstorm's control.

"Okay, we'll see what we can do. Get him onto the table," Brainstorm instructed. "What about you?"

"I'm not dying, despite all the wounds. I can wait," I said.

"And the other one, the Hellite?"

"Relatively healthy," I said. "Nothing you need worry about at the moment. Get her to help you; she's strong."





I was feeling a lot better. I was resting on a second bench in Brainstorm's lab, my good leg dangling over the side. The bullets were still in me, but using the manipulator arms in the ceiling of the lab, the Brainstorm in the tank had injected me with pain killers, straight into the wounds, and they were doing their job wonderfully. He had already scanned me from nose to tail and decided the best course of action was to let the hellite body deal with the bullets itself. Apparently the bullets had already been partly eroded by the body's systems. The wounds were slowly closing, too. At the rate things were progressing, he estimated it would be a day before I was all healed.

Meanwhile, Brainstorm, the ambulant, had applied a local anaesthetic to Crimson's wounds. He didn't want to risk putting him to sleep, as that could easily become permanent. Nonetheless, Crimson had fallen completely silent, the only indication of life from him being the irregular rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

Brainstorm had his head down and his horn was pressed against Crimson's side again. Presumably he was either using some sort of spell on Crimson's injuries, or was conducting a more thorough scan on him.

"The internal damage isn't too bad," Brainstorm finally announced. "The bullet has been removed and I have been be able to fuse the wounds of his internal organs. There will be scar tissue, though. Hopefully that will be corrected by the Hellite modifiers. The big problem is blood, or the lack of it. He needs it, and he needs it now."

"Who's compatible?" I asked.

"You are, but Brainstorm has just informed me that the risks of taking it from you are too great. You don't have enough to spare," Brainstorm said. "Cacha is incompatible." He didn't mention himself, but looking at his physical condition, it was clear that Brainstorm couldn't afford to donate either, even if he was compatible. No doubt the same applied to the Brainstorm still in the tank.

"Take some of mine anyway," I insisted. I hadn't noticed any symptoms of blood loss. I didn't think I'd even bled that much, really. I figured I could afford to share a little to save the life of another... well... to save the life of this pony anyway. I wasn't so sure I'd donate a drip to help any of the death squad.

"Are you sure? It's really risky for you," Brainstorm tried again.

"If it means saving Crimson, or even just increasing his chances, yes, I am quite sure," I said.

"As you wish," Brainstorm conceded.

Immediately, Brainstorm reached into a drawer below the table on which Crimson was lying, pulled a flask from within, flipped off its cap and touched the now-exposed needle to his horn. The spell he placed on it left the needle glowing a greenish color. He approached me, holding out the flask in his fingers, aiming it at my unarmored neck. As it got closer, the flask began to weave and pull, so he lessened his grip, and it plunged itself into my flesh, the spell seeking out a suitable vein. I almost yelped. I could still see enough of the flask to be able to watch as my blood squirted into it. Long before it was full, he pulled it from me.

"Cacha, press your finger here until she stops bleeding," he instructed the Hellite, then returned his attention to saving Crimson. I felt the gentle pressure of a finger against my neck as Cacha moved up beside me. Brainstorm returned to the other table, casting a spell on the flask as he did. The new spell effectively reversed the blood extraction process, the whole flask glowing this time, as it sought out Crimson's vein, inserted itself and began injecting the freshly harvested blood into him. Suddenly I felt nauseous and weak, so I laid my head against the bench and closed my eyes. Maybe Brainstorm wasn't being needlessly fussy after all.

"There are four thugs out in the passage, assuming they haven't woken and run off already," Cacha said. "What are the chances of one of them being a suitable donor?"

"The chance is better than one in four," Brainstorm said. "We should have thought of that before. Cacha, are you up for collecting a flask or two of blood? It will be you alone against the four of them. I'm sorry but I cannot assist you; I am so weak that even doing this much is a challenge. Perhaps you could take one of the guns with you."

"Yes, I'll collect the blood," she said, "but I won't bother with the gun. Even if they were to try to fight me now, they are very battered and unarmed. They don't stand a chance against me. Give me a flask."

The high security door of the lab began to open as Brainstorm pulled two more of flasks from the drawer, enchanting each as he had with the first. He tucked them into Cacha's saddlebag.

"The flask will only draw the sort of blood we need. It will also purify it of any contaminants, so you don't need to worry about any of that. Do not try to draw two flasks from the same pony, unless you want to kill him. Chances are you will only be able to fill one of the flasks from the four ponies. Now, go, my girl, as fast as you can," he instructed.

Cacha didn't wait to be told twice, breaking into a gallop as soon as she was clear of the door. The sounds of her hoof-falls dropped off as she exited the service corridor. That would put her practically on top of the death squad. A few yells and screams of rage wafted back moments later. Bugger, they were awake, or we had more company. I struggled to rise, but immediately felt Brainstorm's hoof hold me down.

"Stay. Your courage is commendable, but I doubt you'd even make it off the table," he said. He was correct, of course, so I allowed myself to go limp again. Brainstorm's behavior was somewhat different to how he had been last time I was here. Now he was behaving more like a concerned grandfather than a mad scientist. I think I liked this Brainstorm better.

"I'm fine," Cacha's voice drifted in faintly from down the corridor. "I had to put one of the buggers to sleep again. They are going to hate me when they wake up."

Thank Luna she was okay. My mind visualized what Cacha would have to go through for each flask. She would have to hold it near the first pony to see if it would react. If the flask did not react, she would have to move to the next, and so on. Once a flask found a suitable donor, she would be able to leave it to draw blood while she tested the remaining ponies, if there were any, with the second flask. After that came the long wait while blood fought its way through the needles, and slowly filled them to capacity.

While I was doing that, Brainstorm walked over to an alcove over the other side of the lab and rummaged around for a few moments before extracting a tired looking blanket from within. Returning, he carefully draped it over me. I was scared it would disintegrate if I tried to move. For a twelve hundred year old blanket, it was doing remarkably well to even be recognizable! Some more rummaging produced an old metal cup which he filled from one of the taps connected to the pipes that ran into the life support tank. Once it was filled he brought it over and placed it before me. How I was meant to drink from it while lying with two injured forelegs, I didn't know.

As I was contemplating that, the other Brainstorm, the one still in the tank began speaking into my mind, relaying me some sort of magic technique. Apparently it was one of the first skills a unicorn learned as a foal. My magic tuition had been anything but traditional. Mostly I was relying on intuition and the code snippets that had been installed with the repair to my horn and installation the weapon. Oh, I see, that's what that group of snippets was about! Telekinesis! Wow! To think I had the ability to do that! I reached out with my mind for the cup. It wobbled a little, but I was able to stabilize the spell and lift the cup to my lips. The contents were warm, thick, and soothing: some sort of vegetable broth. I took a sip, savoring it.

Suddenly my ears perked up of their own accord. Hoof-beats. Galloping. A pony was returning. I hadn't heard anymore scuffles or yelling, so I expected it would be Cacha. I could not imagine why one of the death squad would even attempt to come in here, unless suicidal heroics or penance were a requirement of their order. At this point, even that would not have surprised me. H'ven was turning out to be a much more sinister place than I had ever imagined. To think, only a couple of months ago I had been bouncing around at ground level, enjoying the challenges associated with freerunning across the city. Since then, I had gone much further, and much deeper than I had ever imagined.

"Nearly there!" I heard Cacha call as her hoofsteps got louder. I opened one of my eyes to watch. Moments later she had jumped through the door opening, and was passing the flasks, both full, to Brainstorm. The door immediately began to close, again isolating us from potential threats.

"Good girl, thank you," Brainstorm said, flicking off the cap of the first flask, and guiding it towards Crimson's neck where it automatically sought out a suitable vein. The life-sustaining fluid began flowing into him. I knew that was all we could do for him, other than exposing him to the hellite modifiers, but he had to live long enough for them to be able to work their magic. I guessed we'd discuss that later, after we had all had some time to rest and recuperate.

Crimson groaned. That was an improvement. He'd been still for so long.

"Oh, I feel bloody awful," he muttered, "which is a massive improvement on how I felt before."

"Stay still. Rest for now," Brainstorm instructed him.

"Trust me, that is exactly what I plan to do. Thank you," Crimson said, before again falling silent.

"Aneki, how are you holding up?" Brainstorm asked me.

"I feel like shit, and am very sleepy," I said.

"Hang tight. I'll be there in a moment," he told me. "I'm going to use some of this second vial of blood on you to bring you up to your correct volume."

"Would it not be smarter to use the second flask on Crimson, or to keep it in reserve in case he hemorrhages?" I asked before taking another sip of the broth.

"No. Brainstorm and I both agree that we must use it on you," Brainstorm said as he inserted the needle of the flask into my neck, I felt a sting as it went in. "And now, an apology. We are so sorry, Aneki. If we had realized this before, we would never have subjected you to our weapons experiments. For that matter, we would have been reluctant to restore your horn."

"You shouldn't have done the experiments on me, no matter what the situation," I muttered, "or don't you understand that yet?"

"You forget the way we were last treated by ponykind, twelve hundred years ago, and that we have not socialized with anypony since, so our... manners? ethics? were somewhat lacking, forgotten as it were. Your parting gift to us gave us time to see the error of our ways. Facing the possibility of death really made us think about our actions," Brainstorm said.

"But..." I managed.

"Yes, it was just a bluff on your part. We soon realized that, but by then things were already in motion, and as you can see I am already free of the tank, with Brainstorm to follow suit in the next day or so..."

"You are beating around the bush," I observed.

"Ah, quite so. We do not know how we missed it the first time we scanned you. As I said, had we realized, we would never have conducted the experiments, even before... before we rediscovered morality."

"Yes, yes," I said, "before you realized what?"

"That you are pregnant, of course!"