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The Karn Dominion, The Hybrid War

Robert the Pony

By William W. Kelso

My name is Robert and I was a premed student at Baylor University when the Karn invaded. Like most other people who survived their transformations I had no idea as to what exactly had happened until much later. My roommate and I first started hearing reports of the strange new plagues that were affecting much of the world, and within a few days things started going to hell. We heard reports of mass panic and rioting all over the world, and then reports of "monsters" roaming the streets. One by one the radio stations went off the air and it was utter chaos everywhere. Students in the dorms were getting sick and I was starting to feel pretty bad myself. My body hurt all over and inside as well and I was horrendously hungry but had trouble keeping anything down. By that time many of the students had fled and tried to go home. When the power finally went out I decided to try and make it home as well. I saw horrors of all kinds when I staggered from my room and out into the parking lot. I saw a guy I knew in one of the stair well, but he was physically changing into something else, something bestial. He had fur over most of his body and his eyes looked at me in terror out of a face that was becoming a muzzle, and he had horns growing out of his head! He tried to say something, but all he could do was squeal. To my shame I left him there, my only excuse is I was violently ill by then and was scared to death. Everyone was.

I managed to get the SUV running and tried to drive home, but the roads were blocked with masses of abandoned and sometimes burning vehicles. There were no police or any other kind of authority left by now. I was getting sicker and sicker and my feet were starting to hurt and felt swollen and when I pulled my shoes and socks off I was horrified to find my toes had grown together and I now had one giant toenail on each foot, and the nails were thick and black. I could still drive though, and managed to make it a few more miles before the SUV got jammed between a semi and a guard rail. No matter how much I tried I couldn't get it lose, so I tried to continue on foot. I joined a large group of other people also wandering along the highway. I came across abandoned military checkpoints and Red Cross stations. Some brave people were still trying to man them and keep some kind of order, but they were all sick too. I remember one State Trooper screaming into his mike for fire engines at an accident scene where a fuel tanker was burning, but I doubt if anyone ever responded. Some people were still normal looking but everyone was at least sick to some degree. And I saw more people in the process of their own transformations. People with fur or hair covering their bodies, twisting warped looking legs, muzzles for faces, fangs, horns, tails, and other horrible things. Many were delirious and/or couldn't walk anymore. I'm sure many died where they fell with no one to care for or feed them. So very many of us did die that way. But I was in no condition to help for I was fast becoming one of those horribly twisted creatures myself.

It got to the point where I could barely walk, or stagger, along. My feet had become useless lumps of swollen black nail like material and throbbed and ached horribly. My skin began to burn and itch until I wanted to tear it off as it was driving me crazy in the hot sun. And when I pulled up my shirt my chest was covered with white hair with black spots mixed in. My face was beginning to hurt and I was having a hard time keeping my tongue in my mouth, it just felt too big. And I was horribly thirsty, and it was that thirst that finally drove me away from the highway in search of water.

And I was incredibly lucky as what happened next probably saved my life. I came across a large horse breeding farm and stables that were located near Ft. Worth right off Interstate I-20. Some other sick and changing people had also made it there. There were water troughs full of water and I drank my fill and it helped me become lucid for a short period of time. I looked at my feet again and there was no longer any doubt in my mind that they were becoming hooves, large black shiny hooves. And my new "skin" had spread to most of my body and had become thick smooth hair. My head felt funny too, swollen and misshapen. I was running a high fever and the hot sun was unbearable, so I crawled on my hands and knees into the shadowy cool interior of the nearest barn. And I wasn't alone as others had taken shelter there. And it was like an insane asylum, the sick terrified people screaming and moaning, and after awhile the sounds changed and it sounded more like a zoo. But by then I was too incoherent and sick to be able to pay any attention to anything, my own sounds mixing in with the others.

I had crawled into a stall to be as far away from anyone else as possible and lay helplessly writhing in the hay as my body continued to change even though I was no longer aware of it. I had brief flashes of awareness when I would find myself stuffing hay or other feed into my mouth and eating it without even being aware, and I know I managed to make some trips to a nearby sink for water. But mostly I remember the new horror I felt each time I woke up to find I was less and less human. Once I found one of my legs now bent in the wrong direction, another time I realized I now had a tail and my face was bulging outwards and my ears had moved farther back on my changing head. But these moments were short lived and I soon fell back into a delirium of pain and nothingness. And for almost three weeks I suffered as I changed and became a new species, a human/animal hybrid like almost the entire rest of the human race with only very rare exceptions. We were created to serve an alien race as intelligent livestock.

When the transformation was over my fever finally broke and for two days I slept like the dead as my body recovered from its ordeal. And then I awoke to more horror and to begin my new life as little more than an animal. I woke up and let out a very loud whinny of pain and disorientation. And it was answered by other whinnies and a bray or two. And with a start I realized what I had just done, it had sounded just like a horse! And I quickly found out that's what I was now, more or less. I lifted up a hand to hold my aching head and the first thing I touched was a large upright hairy ear that flicked away from my touch. And it was MY ear. I gave a snort and realized I was looking down my own face, down a broad muzzle covered in white & black hair that ended in a large nose. I reached up and ran my hand over my new face and head and felt the mane on back of my much longer neck. With another bewildered snort I managed to sit up and look at the rest of my body. Or what was my body now. During the change most of my clothes had become unwearable so I guess I had either torn them off or they had been ripped to shreds by my changing body. All I still had one was a tattered shirt, and it was way too tight. I stared down at a body that was more horse from the waist down then human and I was also completely covered in white and black spotted hair. I'm a paint horse I realized. And I was also obviously very much a stallion, embarrassingly so. But I found I wasn't much bothered by my lack of clothes. I doubted any pair of pants made would fit my new body, or accommodate me. I looked at my hands and was relieved to find I still had four fingers and a thumb on each one, but my nails were hard and black and completely covered the first joint of each finger. I found I could make a loud clicking noise by tapping them together. And feeling something on my rear I reached back and found I had been sitting on a long tail of shiny black hair, and I found I could move it easily. With another confused snort I managed to get to my feet, no, my hooves and stand by bracing myself against the side of the stall. I was horribly hungry, and without thinking about it I moved to the stalls hay rack and began to hungrily devour the hay as fast as I could. I ate with my mouth, scooping up large mouthfuls and grinding it up with my large square teeth and using my tongue to shovel more in. And finally with my hunger pains temporarily satisfied I tried to come to grips with what had happened. And quickly realized I wasn't alone in the large barn.

I heard a soft moaning sound from the stall next to mine, and looking over the top board of my stall I saw a thing like me, only this time a female goat lying on the floor. She was awake but I could see her ribs and knew she was in pretty bad shape. She saw me looking at her, and turned her face away in fear. I noticed her stall had very little hay or straw in it and the rack was empty. I realized she was almost starved to death, so I took a large armload of hay from my own rack and dropped it over the side. But she was either to weak or just ignored it. I tried to walk, but kept falling over onto all fours which wasn't all that uncomfortable. I finally I managed to stand up and take a few steps. I wasn't too hard if I concentrated on my balance. Still using the side of the stall I was able to guide myself around the front edge and into the goats stall. She looked up at me and tried to say something, but all that came out was a sad bleat. I tried to talk myself as I wanted to reassure her, but all that came out was garbled grunts and other animal sounds. Finally I gave a frustrated neigh and gave up. I lowered my aching body down next to her and started to feed her small clumps of hay which she took and devoured ravenously. As she did she stared at me with tears running down the sides of her muzzle and I knew she was experiencing the same confusion and horror I was. But at this point it wasn't so much horror as acceptance, and uncertainty. What had happened to us? Why were we like this now? Why couldn't we talk? The questions were endless and there was no way to answer them.

I realized I was thirsty again, and knew the goat lady must be too, so next I went in search of water.

As I staggered down the row of stalls I realized there were other new confused beasts in some of them, and wandering mindlessly around was a huge bull man, like a Minotaur, but his eyes were blank and I think he'd gone insane. He would top every now and then and give a loud lowing bellow, then start wandering aimlessly again. And in one stall was the dead body of a twisted partially changed thing, I couldn't tell what, but I could see he or she had cut their wrists. And in another stall was the small dead body of a child that had died from neglect during her own change, a small little emaciated foal. I felt I should do something for her, but what? I threw back my head and gave a roar of rage and it was echoed by other equine, corvine, and canine howls, bells, and whinnies of similar rage and anguish. With a snort I tore my eyes away from the little dead foal and kept looking for water. Finally I found a large galvanized bucket, and Thank God the sink still had pressure and I was able to fill the bucket after slaking my own thirst. I set the bucket down and put the plug in the sink and filled it to overflowing. Taking the Minotaur by the arm I gently led him over to the sink, and he began to drink with loud grunts of relief. I realized how much larger he was then I, he must have put on hundreds of pounds somehow either during or after his change.

Taking the bucket back to the goats stall I was surprised to find she had managed to prop herself up and was still devouring the hay. When she smelled the water in the bucket she almost grabbed it out of my hands and buried her whole muzzle in it, her throat working as she sucked down the life giving fluid. I stopped her after a couple of minutes as I knew she might get bloated from too much/too fast. She didn't like it much, but was too weak to protest. I was able to move her to my stall as it was much more comfortable since it had a good thick layer of straw on the floor and the hay rack was still fairly full. I found some saddle blankets and made a kind of pallet for us to lie down on. It was getting dark and there was no power for the lights, so I lay down next to her to spend the night, and after a few minutes she snuggled up next to me and as I held her I stared into the dark for the longest time still trying to understand what had happened. Was it act of God? Were the good people taken and the rest of us doomed to roam the earth as beasts? Was this purgatory? I had never been very religious, but it seemed like as good an explanation as anything else. Was it some sort of biological attack, had some bug escaped from a secret lab somewhere? It was just so strange and hard to believe, but it was horrifyingly undeniably real. She held me and I could feel her soft bare breasts against my hair, but I felt no arousal of any kind. I was just glad for the comfort of another warm body and she smelled nice too.

Over the next few days the goat lady improved dramatically. In fact we all made amazingly fast recoveries and soon gained back any weight we had lost. All it took was food and water. A lot us rapidly increased in size and weight, and I think those were still changing as they only had one thing on their mind, food. And no matter how much they ate it was never enough. They ignored the rest of us until their hunger was finally satisfied. The Minotaur must weigh close to a 1000+ pounds now, he was huge, everywhere! And I was like that for a few days. I figured I must weigh in at close to 500 pounds myself. I took a head count of other survivors in my own barn and the four others that made up this part of the farm complex. There were twelve goats or deer of some kind, six other horses, three donkeys, five mules, and four bulls. All the carnivores had run off by now. That was when I found out I wasn't a horse after all, but a pony. The other horses and mules were at least twice my size or more, and I was much larger than the donkeys and goats. The mules were pretty large too, all muscle and no brains. They seemed to be retarded or something, but were docile and amiable enough and didn't cause problems. And they had only three fingers on each hand and no thumbs, big awkward things that that were useless. And I realized they acted more like the "normal" horses on the farm. Two of the bulls were the same way.

I was the only stallion except for a donkey Jack, and even though the mares outweighed me they seemed to instinctively let me take charge and I felt compelled to do so. Even the other animals began to look to me for leadership. I moved us all into the largest barn so I could keep a better eye on what I was starting to think of as my herd. Fortunately the water still had pressure, and if it ran out there were several ponds nearby that would suffice. And I also found the feed storage bins, but they were locked up tight. With the help of one of the more intelligent bulls we were able to break down the doors. He used his horns to just hook the padlocked bin lids and rip the whole latch off with one flick of his head. Wow. And so for now we had plenty of food.

The hardest thing we had to do was move the dead bodies out of the stables for sanitary and olfactory reasons. If you think a rotting body smells bad to a human then you have NO idea how it smells to animals. The equines were useless for that, you couldn't make us go near something dead so the goats did most of it along with the bulls. The only exception was the little foal. She was so dehydrated when she died she hadn't putrefied like the others, but instead had kind of mummified in the cool stable air. I wrapped her in one of the saddle blankets and tried to bury her, but I couldn't do it. The mares found me in a corner holding the little bundle and crying. When I had picked her up I found a small child's ID bracelet on her wrist. It had Barny the Dinosaur and "I Luv You" on one side and the name "Tina" on the other, and I had broken down. I couldn't bear to let her go. One of the bulls finally took her from me and gave her a decent burial. I still have that ID bracelet. It is my only real possession now. I think that poor little pitiful body made me realize more than anything else what had happened to us.

Over the next few days several more goats, deer, and even a ram joined us. He quickly took over the goats which was a big help. But the goat I had helped stuck close to me. Some of the more traumatized ones stayed away from the rest of us, but I soon found myself irresistibly drawn to the other equines. We would sleep several in the same stall, standing and leaning against one another for comfort and security. I could sleep standing up, but sometimes lay down and always woke up with a donkey or two snuggled up next to me. The larger equines seemed to have trouble lying down to sleep, and they always slept standing up. Maybe I could do it either was because I was smaller. And the goats slept in, literally, big clusters side by side with others even draped over the rest. And we slowly learned how to "talk" to one another. The other equines and I "learned" from the natural horses, but we already had a good basic understanding to start with, it was the same the other changelings. We also came to understand the other species fairly well. I guess you could say I was also fluent in "goat" and "deer". It was much more limited than being able to speak English, but we were able to get basic concepts and questions understood. And body language and scent were a big factor as well. The goats used pee more then I would have liked, but if that helped them then more power to them. We could "say" stuff like, "Here I am, Where are you? This is good, I like it., I'm scared., Look at this." And so on. Plus there were sounds to sound an alarm, challenge someone, to say I've found food, etc. Not all sounds had any real meaning. For instance I often grunted while I ate, but all that meant was I was happy and enjoying myself.

Finally I realized where I was, and that my home was only a few miles away in the small town I lived in near Ft. Worth. I didn't want to leave the herd as I knew I would miss their company and the group security. What I now know is it was my herding instinct kicking in. All equines, cervines, and caprinaes have it. To my surprise the goat lady and the Minotaur that had become my almost constant companions went with me. They just followed me. We wandered through what looked like a war torn wasteland. There were abandoned vehicles everywhere, and some had burned, but all the fires had long burned out. But there was still the smell of smoke in the air, and also the stench of death. There were pitiful twisted bodies everywhere. In cars, by the side of the road, in the few houses we checked. It was horrible and we learned to just try and ignore the bodies. It was the only way it was bearable, otherwise we would have fled in panic bck to the barn and safety of the herd. I had found myself getting extremely upset over every dead equine I saw. I had never been a wuss, but now I found myself crying and upset most of the time. Especially over the young ones as I just couldn't stand to see a dead foal or even a lamb, and the goat lady was horribly upset as well. If not for the bull we would have probably broken and ran back to the stables. He would gently lead us away from another horrible sight if we lost it.

It was also very quiet, no sounds of traffic or airplanes, no sirens or radios blaring, and there was hardly any life other then stray dogs or a few changelings that ran away when they saw us. And finally we came to my street, with my house at end of the cul-de-sac. And my street looked strangely untouched except for the overgrown lawns. The huge old Mulberry trees still shaded the street and yards and there were no wrecked or burned cars, burned buildings or other signs of damage. My two companions waited out front while I entered what had once been my home when I was still human. And as soon as I entered I could smell death. My flight instinct tried to kick in, but I had to know. I couldn't find my parents and their car was gone so maybe they had tried to escape, but my sisters Hyundai was in the drive. I went to her room and there was a body under the sheets & cover of her bed, but I couldn't bring myself to look. I leaned against the wall and held one of her stuffed toys and cried as both a human and equine, sobs and squeals wracking my body as tears ran down my muzzle and I held my head in my hands. All changelings can still cry, that's one thing human we still have, one thing they didn't take from us. After I was spent I put the toy on her bed, the stuffed Roo she had called Mr. Joey that I had given her after a trip to Australia, it had always been her favorite. Closing the door I left the room for the last time. And then I heard our dog Bob-a-Link barking in the backyard and I went out the back door, but he snarled at me and backed away in fear. He could no longer recognize me. To him I was just some strange frightening animal. Someone had left the hose running so he would have water, and there were two now empty bags of food scattered around the yard. I guess someone had done their best to care for him before they became too sick. I did the only thing I could and opened the back gate so at least he would be free. Then I went to the garage and got a can of gasoline and going back in the house I doused the carpet and drapes. As I left through the front door I turned and tossed a lit lighter back onto the gas and then stood and watched as the whole house went up in flames. My two friends stood and hugged me as we watched the funeral pyre. It was the only funeral I could give my sister and my now vanished life. And then we began our return journey to the herd through that horrible unreal landscape of death and destruction.

We were almost "home" when we saw an aircraft for the first time in the weeks since we had woken up from our transformations. We heard it first, a strange humming noise. It looked more like a flying saucer the anything else, but we could see a clear canopy over part of the top. There were no engine or propeller noises so we knew it wasn't an airplane of some kind, at least not one we recognized. Instinctively we took cover under some trees and watched as it slowly passed over head. It reached my still burning house and circled a few times and I realized it had been attracted by the smoke. A short time later it picked up speed and rapidly disappeared in the direction of Dallas. I didn't realize until later I had just seen my first Karn hovercraft. But over the next several days we saw several more, and one came and circled the farm for quite some time. We had heard it coming and taken cover in the barns and thought it hadn't seen us. But we were very mistaken, and our new masters came to round us up the next day.

It was pretty early when the aircraft came back, and we took cover in the barns again as we could hear them a good ways off. They landed nearby and some really strange looking Lizards got out of them. I knew instantly they had to be alien as there was nothing like them on earth. They kind of looked like raptors but had larger heads and wore body armor and carried what were definitely weapons of some kind. They set up some sort of silver poles between some of the buildings and seemed to be waiting for something. We watched them nervously, and I don't know about the rest but I felt really bad about this and was scared as hell. Then the pain started, a growing agony inside our heads that kept getting worse. It was some sort of super-sonic sound that drove us crazy. We were all holding our heads and bleating and bellowing, and finally we couldn't stand it anymore and our flight instincts kicked in and we stampeded out the doors of the barns. Run! Run! Danger! Run! Was all we could understand at that point. In a bellowing mob we rushed between the barns and headed for the open pasture beyond desperately trying to get away from the agonizing sound. As I watched some of the deer reached the exit between the building first, it was amazing how fast they could move when motivated. They would squat down almost to the ground and made huge bounds and leaps from an almost sitting position, so they left the rest of us in the dust. And as they started to pass between two of the silver poles they suddenly collapsed and slid to a halt and didn't move again. I was still able to realize something was wrong and let out a shrill whinny to let the rest of the herd know something was wrong and so we tried to change direction, but it didn't go us any good. The Lizards had anticipated that and set up more of the shock poles in strategic spots and more and more of us were falling. The few that managed to get clear were brought down by some sort of stun guns, they looked like black sticks with a handle and trigger and didn't make a sound when they fired. A Lizard would just point, pull the trigger, and another one of us would collapse and slide to a halt. One the bulls gave us our best chance when he gored one of the Lizards and knocked over a pole before being brought down, but it was useless. There were just too many of the Lizards, and I felt a sudden shock like a static electrical spark and everything went dark. I don't know if any of us made it or not. And I never saw any of my herd mates and friends again.

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The Krill sub-commander was pleased with their catch. A few of the more common hybrids had escaped, but the more valuable ones had all been bagged. He knew his masters would be pleased. He hissed & clicked & whistled into his wristcom to tell the pilots of the waiting transports to move in to collect the hybrids. He had lost one of his soldiers to one of the larger hybrids, but he bore it no ill will. He was a soldier and recognized a fellow warrior and did not find fault with his will to resist, he had fought bravely and was a worthy opponent. The Krill had been bred to be soldiers for thousands of years and had their own rigid code of honor. It did not include killing helpless animals, or wounded enemy warriors. He knew the hybrid would soon be broken and domesticated though, which was a shame. Such worthy opponents were rare on this backward planet. When the transport hovers arrived he supervised the loading of the hybrids based on species and sex. Each different hybrid species would be taken to separate farms to be broken and trained for their intended functions.

The transport hover containing the human/equine hybrids came in for a gentle landing next to the receiving station. As the engine hum slowly died away the Krill pilot got out of the cockpit and found the Tawn supervisor in charge of the facility. The Tawn very carefully inspected the cargo of hybrids and signed off for the delivery. The Krill, his day over, left for the garrison barracks. He was looking forward to a nice mud bath to help relax from the hectic day and maybe one of the female hybrids that had been modified to provide their sexual services for his species would be available. He chrred happily as he walked.

The Tawn, another slave race of the Karn, inspected the load of hybrids and was very pleased, especially by the stallion. These smaller equines were fairly rare as not many had been created by the viruses in comparison to the larger breeds, and there was a large male/female ratio difference as well. He had processed close to a hundred females but this was only the fifth stallion he had seen. He had his sub workers take the mules to the veterinary hospital to be gelded, had the two donkeys put in a holding stall until they could be sent to another facility for breaking and training, and turned his interest to the remaining equines as they were his specialty. He gave each a quick inspection and was satisfied they were in good health, actually much better than most he received. He issued more orders and had the females taken to the first level barn to be given a thorough vet exam and start their adjustment to serving their masters. He arranged for the stallion to be sent to the breeding barn as he would start his service there before being broken. It would save time and his stud services were needed.

The Tawn's name was Chelur. He was a male of his species, and like the Krill he was also a slave of the Karn, but did not see himself that way. The best slaves are those who are not aware of the fact as the Karn had learned eons ago. As the Krill had been bred to be soldiers his kind had been bred to be administrators and supervisors of new planets being prepared for the arrival of their Karn masters. It would be many years before a Karn even set foot on this new acquisition to their Dominion. The Tawn looked like a giant hamster more than anything else. He was about four feet tall and covered in ruddy golden brown fur. His species had once been burrowers before the Karn had elevated them to sentience and he still had residual digging claws on his hands and feet. Like all of his kind he was a first rate organizer and ran efficient and economical operations to the satisfaction of his masters. They were also good at working with hybrid animals and training them. That was their function. For the most part they were patient caring masters, even kind in their own way.

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I woke up in a daze, not sure where I was or what had happened. I was lying in a stall and at first thought I'd just had a really bad dream. But as I scented the air I was knew that it wasn't the same barn we'd been living in. And there was another scent in the air, one that I found enticing for some reason. Man I thought, what the heck did they hit me with? I felt like I'd stuck my hand in a wall socket, all frizzled and numb. I got groggily to my feet and realized I had a collar around my neck, and there was a chain attached to the collar, and the chain was attached to a ring in one wall of the stall. I gave it a good pull and knew I wasn't going anywhere. It was pretty long though, and I had plenty of room to move around in the stall. And when I noticed there was bucket of oats and one of water I wasted no time in stuffing myself and slaking my thirst. That taken care of I explored my new surroundings as best I could. The stall was fairly large and was the type that had actual walls, not just fences separating it from other stalls. There was fresh straw on the floor and that was it as far as furnishing. But as I was used to that I was just glad it was fresh. Dirty straw is nasty. The whole time I was aware of that disturbing yet wonderful scent, but it was faint and I couldn't get a really good snout full. A couple of hours later I heard the sounds of someone approaching the stall and backed into a corner.

If it was one of those creepy lizards I was going to put up a fight, chain or no chain. But to my surprise a great big hamster and a donkey came up the bars on the door! Of all the things I'd been expecting this was not one of them. The donkey, a young Jenny (I had noticed we were ALL young and had yet to see an old changeling,) slowly approached me and she had a lead rope in her hand. I gave a soft warning snort as I wasn't sure I liked the idea of the rope, but when she started to talk to me my mouth fell open.

"Easy, easy, she said, you need to come with me, I promise you won't be hurt." I was confused as the other donkeys I had seen hadn't been able to talk, they'd been mute like me. But I noticed she wasn't speaking with her mouth, the voice was coming from a collar of some kind she was wearing. It was a pleasant voice but sounded kind of artificial. As she got closer she gently blew in my face which is one way equines greet one another so the other can get our scent, so I returned the greeting with a blow of my own. She smelled nice. We nuzzled for a few seconds to finish introducing ourselves and by then I trusted her. So I let her remove the chain from my collar and attach the lead rope. The whole time I had been keeping an eye on the giant hamster and I had no doubt he was an alien too. He smelled like cinnamon, but I still knew he wasn't from around here. And he was holding a shorter version of the black rod stun guns that I remembered and I knew has there to make sure I behaved. Not wanting another nasty shock I decided to be a good horsie for now.

As the donkey led me through the stables I kept getting whiffs of that strange scent all the time. Once I stopped and threw back my head and flaring my nostrils took a good deep breath sucking the air in through my nose. What was that smell! I started to feel strange emotions and longings I had never experienced before. The donkey seemed amused,

"Don't worry she said, you'll find out what that is soon enough sweetie." And she gave a gentle tug on the rope and I obediently followed, still trying to identify that delicious scent.

We emerged from the door of the barn into bright sunlight, and after my eyes adjusted to the light and the fresh air blew away the traces of that scent that had started to muddle my thoughts I took a good look around. The place was huge, and it was a beehive of activity. Everywhere I looked there were other equines, most being lead or accompanied by other donkeys or one of the hamster people. Some of them called out greetings to me or the donkey, or sometimes both. Once one of the hamsters led a mare past me and as she passed upwind I suddenly got a major whiff of that same scent. With my eyes glazing I squealed and turned and tried to follow her and at the same time felt a sudden tightness in my loins. Oh God, I thought, NOW I know what that scent is! The donkey pulled on the rope again, and said, "Not yet sweetie, don't be impatient!" with a little giggling squeal.

Oh God, I thought, Oh God. But now that the mare had passed from sight and scent I felt myself calming down. I had never felt anything like that reaction to the mares scent before, and I was a little scared and embarrassed. But the donkey seemed to think it was funny.

Finally we reached what turned out to be a veterinarians clinic. I was given very thorough exam, and then the vet who was another hamster shaved the inside of my left thigh and pressed some sort of thing that looked like a bar code scanner against my skin and I felt a tingle. I gave a snort as it spooked me, but the donkey had stayed with me the whole time and her presence calmed me down pretty well. When I looked there was what looked like a tattoo of strange characters on my skin, but it didn't hurt or anything. But when the vet put another weird device against the back of my skull there was a click and it DID hurt! With a loud squeal I jumped off the exam table and tried to bite the vet, and the guard hamster stepped up and put the black stick against my butt and ZAP! I jumped with a startled whinny and grabbed my butt with both hands. That HURT! you little shit, I thought, and with ears down and teeth bared I prepared to stomp the crap out of him. But the donkey intervened and I just couldn't hurt her. And she was really worried, "Please, stop this or they'll send you to a disciplinary barn where they'll hurt you! It's not a nice place, please calm down!" And she sounded really scared. She started to nuzzle my face and stroke my neck. And for her I did calm down, but thought to myself "I'll get you later you little creep and stick that rod up your ass". The vet was making a call on his wristcom thingy and the donkey went over to him and crouched down in front of him in a submissive posture.

"Please master. He was just startled and I should have warned him it would hurt a little. Please, he's still feral and hasn't been broken yet. I should have warned you. Please punish me, not him."

The Tawn vet hesitated and looked at the guard who shrugged and said, "No harm done I guess." The vet looked down at the donkey and said, "OK, this once I will forgo punishment. You are one of our best handlers, and I know it was an accident."

"Oh, thank you master the donkey said, you are too kind."

As she led me from the vets office she stopped and scolded me, "You must behave! The vet is a nice master and is good to us, but there are some who are not. If you misbehave in front of one of them we will both be punished! So please be a good boy and behave!" And she reached up and rubbed my cheek, so I nuzzled her and told her in the equine way I would be good. I had been touched by her concern for me and willingness to be punished for my own actions. It was my first encounter with a trained donkey handler, and later I would realize just how seriously they took their duties caring for and working with other equines, and how much they loved their charges. But I already knew how much we other equines loved our little donkey cousins. They are so sweet and always put our best interests in first. Then she took me to a kind of bathhouse and gave me a nice bath with sweet smelling soap, and I grunted and snorted in pleasure the whole time as it was the first one I'd had in months. And it was even better when she groomed me with a curry comb, and then brushed out my tail and mane. My coat had gotten matted and dirty and was itching like crazy, but when she was through I felt like a whole new, well, a whole new pony and stamped my hooves with delight. I leaned over and planted a big slobbery equine kiss right one her muzzle, and she squealed and threw a sponge at me, which I threw right back. But she ducked and it hit the hamster guard with a wet splat. The hamster guard, Mr. Party Pooper, was not amused and spoke up and said, "OK, that's enough of that! Time to go back to the barn." I had completely forgotten about him I had been so content while she was cleaning me up, and he rudely reminded me of where I was. She noticed my dejection, and said, "Master Rutcha is not so bad, he's just too serious sometimes." Yeah, I thought, and he's a butthead too.

She led me back to the barn and put me back in my stall, and after reattaching the chain to my collar she left. I stood there and looked at the barren stall and gave a chuff of dismay. I hated being alone. But I perked up when she returned and she had feed with her too. Another donkey jenny was with her and was pushing a large cart full of fresh sweet smelling hay. She quickly filled the hay rick in my stall, then moved on to do the same with the other few occupied stalls in the barn and I heard the sounds of other equines greeting her and they were all stallions like me. I could tell they weren't mares or geldings from the "tone" of their voices. But my own donkey stayed with me, and to my pleasure she had two full feed bags with her. She slipped one over my head and I started to feed while she slipped other over her own head and joined me. The oats finished we both stuffed ourselves on the hay and had a good drink of cool clean water. It didn't feel weird at all to eat like that, or that we were naked. It just isn't an issue. After the lovely grooming and filling meal I was very sleepy, and so was she. I kicked some clean straw into a little mound and lay down to sleep. Unlike the larger horses and mules we smaller equine like ponies and donkeys sometimes sleep lying down instead of standing. After a short time she turned out the light and joined me, and we snuggled together and feel asleep reassured by each other's warmth and scent. And there was nothing sexual about it, its' just the way we are. If she had been a Jack donkey or another pony stallion we'd have done the same thing.

And the very next day I found out what one of my new "functions" to serve my masters was. After we woke up and had our morning feed she left me alone again. Before she left she told me her name was Dinky, it was the name her masters had given her because she was a little smaller the most donkeys. I thought it was a nice name. She had it embossed on her collar, but I couldn't read anymore so hadn't know what it said until she told me. She also told me she wouldn't be staying with me for awhile because it would be dangerous for her. At first I didn't know what she meant as I would never hurt a donkey, any donkey. But I soon found out why she had to stay away from me for now.

A short time later a Tawn overseer brought a hybrid pony mare to my stall and left her with me. And as soon as he opened the stall door I knew what she and I were there for as the heady scent of her estrus hit me like a big soft sledgehammer. Of course I'd heard the term "rut" before, but I was totally unprepared for what it would be like as I went into it for the first time. I quickly became aroused and rampant, and she was the only thing that mattered to me in the whole world. She was my world. She was shy and backed into a corner so I courted her by snuffling her scent, stamping my hooves, and making soft squeals and snorts and giving deep soft nickers to let her know my interest. By that time anything human in either of us had retreated deep inside and the animal had taken over. She answered my calls with her own and evidently found me to be an acceptable mate. There was no foreplay or anything like that, she just turned away from me and dropped down on to all fours and lifted her tail for me. I didn't need any further invitation and with no hesitation at all I mounted her and covered her. As I thrust into her I grabbed her in front of her hind legs with my arms and coupled with her in steady powerful thrusts, both of us grunting and squealing in equine lust. It didn't take that long, and when I came I flagged my tail and almost passed out briefly from the unbelievable agonizing ecstasy of my release. Afterwards we both calmed down some and I held her and gently nuzzled and lipped her face and muzzle and found she liked having her ears scratched. She was a painted pony like me, but she was brown and white compared to my white and black markings. Later we mated again before falling asleep for the night. And each time seemed better than the first.

They left her in my stall for two days then replaced her with another pony mare in full blown estrus and history repeated itself. And each time with each new mare it was an incredible experience and I wouldn't have traded it for anything. I was kept in the breeding barn for about a month, and in that time was mated with fifteen different mares. And I never knew any of their names, and they never knew mine. But a stallion never forgets the unique individual scents of his mates, and I would know them anywhere any time. And finally that trip to equine heaven was over, and my donkey friend Dinky came to fetch me once my rut had faded and she was safe from any amorous intentions from me. I followed her in a daze, not wanting to leave this special place, and she gave a little snort of amusement and told me,

"Don't worry sweetie, you'll be back here a lot. Pony stallions are rare, so the other facilities will be sending their mares on a regular basis for your services. And from what I've hear the ladies were more than satisfied with your attentions. They told me you're a real gentle stud." If that was gentle I thought, I'd hate to see rough!

Dinky took me to a new barn and I was housed in a regular stall in between two other ponies. Both were mares, and I had mated with both of them. One was my first love the paint, and the other was solid black with white socks and a blaze on her forehead. They were both glad to see me, and I was most certainly glad to see them. But there would be no sexual shenanigans until they went into season again, and as both were pregnant now that wouldn't be for quite some time. As it turned out about half the mares I had serviced were also in the same barn, and also pregnant. And I felt as full of pride as any other stallion, hybrid or natural. And at night one or more of the mares would always come to my stall and sleep with me, and sometimes Dinky would join us. And anyone looking in the stall would have seen a big pile of very content and happy animals.

I now realize just how thoroughly the Karn virus had been in making the hybrids we had become complacent and easily domesticated. It never even occurred to me once for many years that I had been mated like an animal with another animal, and neither of us had any say or choice in the matter. We could not have refused even if we had wanted to. Our entire sexual lives were those of animals, without being in heat or lust we had no interest in sex for the sake of only pleasure instead of procreation. The Karn put drugs in our feed to help reinforce those animal instincts and keep us dumb and relatively happy. But they only needed to do that for the "first" generation as our offspring would be nothing but intelligent animals with no memories of ever having been anything else. And for us the servitude was just starting as the virus had also retroactively made us all young again and increased our life spans greatly. Our masters wanted to get as much work out of their new livestock as possible. And they also put some sort of salt peter in the food as well to keep most stallions and mares from going into mating season so they could also control us that way. I and the other ponies were exceptions as they wanted to breed as many of us as possible as soon as possible as for some reason our numbers were lower than our master had expected. So as a result I spent many a happy day or weeks in the breeding barn which was just fine with me. Whenever Dinky would lead me in that direction I would kick up my hooves and squeal in anticipation.

The one thing that did upset me greatly was that when the mares were nearing the end of their term they were taken away to a special farm to give birth. It made me frantic as they were members of my harem and of my herd. Like any stallion when one of his mates was out of his sight I became sick with worry. I would call and call to them as I loved them both as a pony and a human, and when they didn't answer it upset me greatly. Dinky and the other mares would have to keep an eye on me and calm me down for a few days after one of the mares, or more, were taken away. The donkeys had ways of keeping in touch, and I would receive word through Dinky that I was the proud sire of a fine colt or more often a filly. I was always delighted, but I did so want to see my mates and children. I would mope for days and become unpleasant company but everyone understood and didn't hold it against me.

And during this whole period, in between trips to the breeding barn, I had been undergoing training with the other ponies. Most of it was done by Dinky or other donkeys as that was part of their function. Dinky had been permanently assigned to the pony barn and also as my special handler since I was a stallion. She had been "teamed" with me. She took care of my needs and saw to my training and I loved her very much. She explained to me about the tattoo on my leg and the chip in my head. I found out that I was classified by our masters as a "Stage 3 Human/Equine hybrid/pony/male and my functions were "Stud/general transport duties" which meant in addition to my stud duties I would also be trained to pull small wagons or carts. It seems the overseers and other staff use pony or horse carts for their basic transportation as the powered vehicles were in short supply and were needed for more important duties then mere ease of travel for individuals. Most of the natural equines were used in heavier duties, which left the rest up to us. And I had very mixed feelings about it. It was one thing to be kept in a nice clean comfortable stall and to have access to willing mares, but to be hitched up to, and have to pull, a wagon?? I wasn't thrilled, but let Dinky break me to wear a bridle and harness though I hated the bit, it tasted metallic and wrong. I learned to pull a small cart by myself, or was paired with one of the mares to pull a small wagon. One thing that greatly disappointed the other ponies and me was that we weren't given, or even allowed to use, translation collars like Dinky and the other Donkeys all had. Our masters provided the Donkeys with them as they were required to be able to speak to their masters in an intelligible language as part of their function, but they weren't considered necessary equipment for draft animals. As long as we understood the commands we were given that was all that mattered. Our masters did not pass the time of day with animals or ask our opinions. And the Donkeys could not share their collars with us as they could only be removed with a special tool that only masters had.

And so we remained dumb animals though we could communicate with one another and natural equines well enough. I know from personal experience that being a dumb animal, living as a dumb animal, and being treated like a dumb animal makes you an animal. Of course that was all part of the way the Karn and their slave races broke us without our even being aware of it. And we were NOT slaves, just livestock. Not even worthy of speaking or even having names unless our master wished it. And on my last day of "training" I was "rewarded" with a new halter that would be my own, and my masters saw fit to give me a name. My name was "Specks" because of my coloring, and it was embossed on my halter. But I still thought of myself as Robert as no matter what they wanted they couldn't take that away for me. For a very long time that was my only act of "defiance". But of course I responded to my new name when called like any good pony.

I was assigned, along with Dinky, to the facilities light transport department. It was made up of mainly Ponies and Donkeys, but there was one mule team for the occasional heavy work. The Donkeys had also been trained to pull carts, but it was only if no Ponies were available that they were used for that. They were fine at doing it, but it was not considered one of their functions. And I quickly learned the ins and outs of pulling hacks and pony carts, and rarely a wagon. And it was fairly simple duty compared to the heavy work wagons the mule and horse teams had to pull. We were woken up by our handlers very early every morning, fed and groomed, then led to the tack barn and harnessed up. Then we were hitched up to the cart or wagon we'd be pulling that day and listed on the duty roster. Masters would come and check out us out and keep us all day, or if they only needed us for a quick trip they'd bring us back later and we'd be available for the rest of the day. About once every two weeks we also drew night time duty with the day before, and after, off. I was not on the roll on a regular basis though due to trips to the breeding barn. None of the other ponies begrudged me that as I had no choice, plus most of them were my mates, or would be. They were happy when their sisters were picked for my services as they knew I was a good virile, but gentle, mate. I had quite a reputation with the ladies, but wasn't stuck up about it and they liked that to. Surrounded by my mates and friends I was actually quite content with my life.

For the most part is really was light and pleasant duty. I got used to my duties and running or trotting down the facility streets with my hooves clomping on the pavement. I would often pass other rigs and we always called out greetings to one another. We were kept busy in a reassuring routine. And it was always nice to get back to the stable after a long hot or cold day as our Donkey handlers would give us a lovely rubdown and/or a wash in one of the troughs provided for that purpose. We would often dunk the squealing Donkeys in our own version of a "bath" which would usually degenerate into a sponge and wet towel battle with Ponies vs Donkeys, but no one kept score. I was holy terror with a rolled up towel, and you would often see me chasing a bunch of braying Donkeys around the stable as they tried to evade my deadly aim. One time a bunch of them ran out of the stable and down the street with me in hot pursuit. I wish you could have seen the expression on the faces of the Masters who saw us. Then after the foolery was over it was time for a delicious dinner of mash or hot oats and fresh hay mixed with clover. Then we would settle down for the night with several of us in each stall. It was a happy contented place full of the love and companionship that only equines can give one another.

Most of our masters treated us well. The Tawn were our most frequents users and they had been bred just like us, and part of their function was to take care of, and not mistreat, valuable assets. They would always see we had water available at a stop, had regular feeding breaks, and at any sign of a sore hoof or other problems would quickly turn us over to the vet. However it was rare that we needed a trip to the vet as another "benefit" of the mutagen virus was to give us extremely strong immune systems and rapid healing. However there are always exceptions to the rule and there was one master we all hated. He was a Tawn Master named Rutchat, and he was a mean bastard. He would tie us up in the hot sun for hours with no shade or water available, was brutal with the reins, and used a whip which was NEVER necessary with a well trained pony or horse. Of course we did our best to be obedient and served him to the best of our abilities, but many a pony including myself would come back from a day with him with our mouths sore and lips torn from his use of the reins, and our rumps and flanks bearing whip marks. This always infuriated our Donkey handlers. They would get so upset WE had to calm THEM down! I hated him with a passion.

The other Tawn were aware of his unprofessional and brutal treatment of the animals but kept their mouths shut as he was a senior supervisor. But he finally went too far one day even for them. And it was one of the worst days in my life, human or animal.

Rutchat came by one winter morning and checked out a pony cart being drawn by one of my mates. She had been in my harem for some time and had given me a colt and a filly. Like me she was also a paint pony, and the Donkeys had told me our children looked just like us. It was one of those rare mornings when it was below freezing and there was ice on the roads and it was slippery. The Donkeys had fitted us with removable ice shoes but it was still slick. My cart was checked out next and I was only a block behind her cart as we headed out for the days duties. There were no stop signs but one rule was the lighter vehicles always stopped to give the heavy transports wagons right of way as it took them longer to respond or stop if they had to. That bastard Rutchat tried to beat a heavily loaded wagon through an intersection. He used the whip to make my mate try to cross the intersection even though she had tried to stop as was required to give the freight wagon right of way. But the whip and command from her master caused her to obediently start across the intersection. I saw the Donkey driver stand up and try to stop her wagon and hit the brake, but the heavy wagon slid on the ice and ran down my mate and her cart. It crushed her under its wheels in a horrible carnage of screaming and braying equines as the mule team also went down. Rutchat was thrown clear and didn't get a scratch. And I saw it all.

I screamed and roared and taking the bit in my mouth I ran to the accident scene despite the efforts of my master to control me. The freight wagon had ended up on its side with both mules down, and the Donkey driver was dead from a broken neck when she was thrown for the wagon. I recognized her as she was one of Dinky's best friends who often came by to visit as they had gone through training together. Unlike Dinky she had been paired with a team of draft mules to pull freight wagons instead of taking care of ponies. I ran to the side of my mate and collapsed next to her. She was all messed up and I could see bones sticking through some of her wounds and she was so still, so very still. I held her in my arms and knew she was gone, and her belly was just beginning to bulge with our foal. And I screamed and screamed and rocked her back and forth nuzzling her face. I heard other screams and brays and looked up to find the two mules had dragged their wrecked wagon over to their Donkey team mate even though one had a broken leg, and they were both bent over her wailing and screaming their own horrible anguish at the loss of their team mate. Even some Tawn bystanders were crying. Finally an ambulance arrived and they took her away from me despite my resistance, and loading her and the Donkey in the back they sped away to the vet hospital but it was way too late. Other wagons and carts had arrived by then and as the news got out other equine wails of sorrow and loss joined my own. And I just stood there in the cold staring straight ahead and trembling.

Then I heard that monster that had killed my mate and child, that had threatened and injured my herd mates for so long. He was telling a Krill security guard that,

"It was that stupid animals fault, she just bolted in front of that wagon, I'm lucky I wasn't hurt! "

With a bellowing roar I turned and attacked him to defend my herd. He saw me coming and tried to get away, but I knocked down the Krill and with my cart still hitched to me I ran Rutchat down and started to stomp him to death, screaming with froth flying from my mouth as I brought my hooves down on him again!, and again!, and again! Until he was a bloody pulp and no longer moved, but still I kept up my attack as I was totally unaware of anything but my duty to defend my mates, my foals, and my herd. I never even felt it when a horrified Krill finally stunned me, and I was told later it took three full blasts to bring me down.

Rutchat lived, but as there had been witnesses as to the true cause of the wreck he was quietly reassigned to "menial" duties elsewhere. And I was punished with ten days in the disciplinary barn as despite the circumstances I had still attacked a master and that was a major offense. But also due to the circumstances my sentence was fairly light. In the punishment stall I had to stand in the middle of the stall wearing a snaffle bit with a bag over my head. The bridle was attached to four heavy ropes so that if I moved or tried to lie down the bits would savage my mouth. Without warning a master might come by and give me several thwacks with a rod or whip. The rest of the time I had to pull heavy weights around in a circle wearing an unpadded harness. Sometimes at night as I stood there trying not to move Dinky would sneak into the barn and hold me and help me stay upright. And the barn staff, knowing my story, did only the minimum their duties required. But I didn't know or care, and after my tears were all gone the hate started to surface. And it was human hate for the monsters that had done this to me and my herd, that had killed my mate and our unborn child. Dinky sensed the change in me and it scared her. She knew it wasn't directed at her or the other equines, but she was scared nonetheless. While I balanced in that horrible stall of pain I vowed that I would lead my herd to freedom some day, or die trying. That no more of my mates or my herd would die like that, and my children would be free.

After they let me out of that horrible place I was bloody and scarred from the snaffle bit and beatings. My herd mates were horrified and did their best to comfort and console me, holding me several at a time and crying in their anguish for my loss and pain. But I didn't cry again until they took me to the small graveyard that our masters allowed us to have and left me to grieve at the graves of my mate and the child I would never know and at the grave of a little Donkey I hadn't known very well. Their only markers were their old halters with a name we couldn't even read embossed on them. But now I would never know what their real names had been. And I had the company of two lonely mules who didn't understand what had happened to their friend and team mate because they had their intelligence taken away and now had the minds of five year olds. And seeing my pain and grief the gentle giants tried to comfort me, and we all huddled together and grieved for hours.

My masters assumed I had been punished enough and was docile again, and I gave them no reason to think otherwise. My grief and anger and hate had reawakened the human part of me and it was wide awake now. Now no amount of drugs could keep it subdued and their punishment had broken the conditioning that had turned me into an uncaring submissive animal and willing participant in my own ongoing degradation. But I pretended to be the good docile beast they expected and went back to work pulling carts and wagons and was the perfect picture of a happy contented hard working animal. But I watched, and I learned, and I planned, and most of all I hated.

Finally one evening I took Dinky to one side and pointed to her translation collar and then at my own neck made an inquiring snort. She alone had sensed the change in me and knew what I meant.

"No, she said, I can't take it off. It's forbidden to have any others use them unless the Masters allow it! We will be punished!"

Three days previously I had seen a shipment of the collars being delivered to the vets supply office, and I knew Dinky had access so she could sign for simple creams and other medicines to treat harness sores or bruises. I wanted to tell her to steal one, but I just couldn't communicate something as complicated as that idea. I pointed to her collar again, then I pointed in the direction of the vets supply office which was just across the street from the stable area. Her eyes went wide and I knew she understood.

"No, she said, it is stealing, it is forbidden! Unless the Masters give me permission I can't do that!"

And for once I lost my temper. I grabbed her by the shoulder and shook her while I gave a squeal of anger. Then I realized what I was doing. She was looking at me with tears running down her muzzle, shocked and frightened. Oh my God what am I doing! I thought in horror. Ashamed of myself I gave a soft "I'm so sorry" whicker I pulled her into my embrace and held her close. I nuzzled her and started crying as I had hurt someone I loved very much. She knew I hadn't meant and forgave me readily, but I still held her a long time as much for my own comfort as hers.

Perhaps it was the intensity of my emotions, or the fact I had actually been so worked up about it, but a few nights later she slipped in to my stall and handed me a translation collar she had hidden it the bottom of a feedbag. Then she had to teach me how to use it. It was kind of weird. You didn't talk with your mouth though you did use your vocal cords a little bit, but just in the back of your throat. I don't know it worked from telepathy or not, but once you got used to it you could "talk" in a rather pleasant sounding "voice". Mine was a mild baritone, you could tell if a voice was female or male and each voice was slightly different just like our "real" voices had been. It was another marvel of Karn technology. We didn't worry ourselves about how it worked though as even if you told us we wouldn't have understood.

After had learned to use it I told Dinky my plan. She was terrified at first, but after what she had seen me put through she finally agreed. But I wasn't planning just to escape myself, I was going to bring every other equine that I could. The problem was how, but eventually a possible solution presented itself. Mostly the Donkeys only drove wagons and carts, but there was one Donkey that drove an old dilapidated hovertruck. His job was to take the end of the days trash and refuse to a dump nearby, and he usually left after the stables had been closed for the night. He was a Jack named Ted, and he seemed a little less doped up then most of us. When I told him my plan he was all for it. He hated the Masters too, but had never tried to leave alone. Like all of us we were scared to be separated from the herd, so we'd take it with us! It was the simplicity of the plan that made it work. We would have been incapable of any kind of long term or complicated plans. If we had to disable an alarm or something it never would have worked, but it never occurred to our trusting Masters that any of their dumb animals would have enough intelligence to try and escape our gentle slavery.

Two days later the "Great Escape" was set in motion. Ted backed up the old hovertruck to the stable door just like he was picking up trash. Only this time one stallion, fourteen mares, eight Donkeys, and two mules climbed in the back of the truck. Once we were all loaded I gave a soft neigh to let him know and we started on our adventure. All the ladies were lying down watching me with wide eyes at this strange new development. The only ones who really knew what was happening were the Donkeys and me. The mares came along unquestioningly as I was the herd stallion and where I went they followed trusting me to know what was best. And God I hoped what I was doing WAS for the best. We were leaving a comfortable life, but as beasts of burden, for an unknown new life. But at least we would be free, and that was something. Dinky and the other Donkeys had plundered the medical and other stores and they had all brought along bags full of useful items, but most of all one bag was full of translations collars. More than enough for all of us. The main worry was feed, but I knew there would be grass and other edible plants. One good thing about being a herbivore was we could live off the land and not have to carry any food with us so could travel light.

There was one terrifying moment when a Krill guard decided to search the back of the garbage truck, maybe he scented us but I don't know. I heard him talking to Ted and then walking down the side of the truck to the rear. I lay down next to the tailgate and waited. As soon as he dropped the tailgate I kicked him in the face with both hind legs and he went down like a poled ox and didn't make a sound. I don't know if I killed him or not, and don't care. Ted ran back to the cab and gunning the engine we drove into the night as fast as the old truck could go.

As we drove through the night I sat down next to my mates to reassure them as they had been badly spooked by my violence against the Krill guard. When I "spoke" to them in a real voice they really sat up and took notice. Soon I had two mares with their heads in my lap, and I rubbed the bulging stomach of one of them and felt my foal kick. You'll be born and live free I promised as I felt another kick. And I cried for the mate and child I had left behind and a Donkey that would never be free.

We drove for several hours and when we finally reached an isolated wild area we got down off the truck. The other stood around nervously not really knowing what to do. I told Ted to follow me, but he refused. He couldn't use the collar yet, but I knew what he meant when he got back in the truck. He would drive the truck as far as possible before abandoning it, or until he was caught, to throw them off our track. He was the bravest Donkey I ever knew, and we never saw him again. He gave us freedom at the cost of his own. I named my first free born colt Ted in his memory, and I knew he would have approved.

I led my herd into the scrub oak and dense bushes and we headed as far away from any sign of habitation as we could. It was hot and uncomfortable, but since we were animals it didn't both us that much. Even if the feed and forage wasn't up to the standards of the stable there was more than enough, and water was no problem. I we saw or heard a Karn hovercraft we would drop to all fours and pretend to be grazing "naturals". From overhead it was almost impossible to tell one of us from a natural. We even joined up with a mixed herd of naturals that had gotten free from their barns and pens after civilization collapsed and there was no longer anyone to care for them. The natural animals accepted us without question, to them were kind of weird but still definitely fellow equines which was all that mattered. We could "talk" to them and they could "talk" to us just fine. Once we'd worked out that the two legged mares were my mates and the four legged one the natural herd stallions mates there weren't any problems. We had to do that as once the drugs started wearing off the mares started go to into heat again, and ones does what one must in those situations. Since there was no Jack donkey available I mated with the Donkey Jennies when they went into their own heat. Dinky was one of the first ones and we were both quite happy about it as she was extra special to me.

When it was evident she was entering estrus we went off some ways from the herd for privacy. We could have mated in the middle of the herd and no one would have been bothered, but we hybrids still felt a human need for privacy in matters such as this most intimate of acts. We took our collars off as they wouldn't be needed for a few days. As her estrus increased I slipped into rut and began to court her as would any other Jack or stallion. It didn't last long as she already accepted me as the herd stallion and even more importantly as a friend she loved. Jennies are perfectly capable of accepting a pony stallion as a mate and as I mounted her I had no trouble achieving a complete penetration. She brayed and squealed in pleasure and I gave my own sounds of equine pleasure as I lunged into her. I don't know if it was because she wasn't quite in full blown estrus or who she was with, or a combination, but I had more control of my lust and was able to drag out the coupling for a much longer period than usual. She turned and looked at me and then closed her eyes and made almost human sounding moans of pleasure as I serviced her. Finally the stallion took over and griping her mane with my teeth I became more frenzied and we both rapidly reached the release we so desperately needed. Afterwards we held one another while we caught our breath and calmed down, gently nuzzling and lipping in the equine form of kissing. Over the next few days we mated ten more times, and sometimes we were able to control our lust enough to make the couplings longer and more pleasurable in a wonderful blend of human and equine love. But after her estrus completely faded it was back to normal. When she bore me a fine Jack stallion we named him Ted.

For the first time I saw my foals and it was a glorious heady feeling. The mares and Jennies gave birth fairly quickly and without much pain, another benefit of being as much animal as human. They went off with maybe a friend or two to give birth and wouldn't let me follow if I tried. They were very serious about that, this was a female thing NO males allowed! But an hour or two after the birth they'd let me visit my mate and our new foal. They were hybrids like us, so very small and beautiful. And the mules were the cutest little things with their big ears. I would hug my mate and hold her and the foal for hours before my duties called me elsewhere, and then return as often as I could. And within just a few days, just like naturals, the hybrid foals would be running and playing and exploring their big new fascinating world. They didn't seem to realize they were any different than the natural foals and vice versa. They knew who daddy was and I would often have a small pack of foals following me around until their dams came to tell them to leave the stallion alone or I'd eat them. But after running away squealing in mock terror they'd be back. It was a simple but satisfying life.

That all ended the day we met Col. Roth and his resistance fighters. I first realized something was wrong when the natural stallion issued a challenge and I responded as a herd stallion myself and issued my own challenge to the yet unknown danger. To my surprise we were answered by the whinny of another stallion. My first concern was whether he would challenge the natural stallion, or maybe even myself if he was another hybrid. Like any equines we would both defend our harems. But we didn't have to worry as he made it clear he had no intention of issuing a challenge. When we "told" him it was OK to approach the herd the largest horse stallion I had ever seen walked out of the bushes, and he was a hybrid like me but twice my size and then some. He must be a draft horse I realized as he was even bigger the other regular horses I'd seen. I was very relieved he hadn't issued a challenge as could probably mop up the countryside with me.

I noticed he was wearing a translation collar too about the same time he noticed my own. At the same time we both said "You can talk too!" Then we shook our heads and nickered in amusement. We both tried to talk again at the same time, and snorted in more amusement as we canceled one another out. Finally he indicated for me to talk first and we started our first conversation. By this time the mares and Jennies who had herded the foals way from the potential danger began to drift back. Soon he huge stallion was the center of attention and he really seemed to enjoy and greeted all new equines with friendly blows, snorts, and nuzzles. I felt just a little bit jealous and laid my ears back and bared my teeth, only to get a smack and reproachful look from Dinky.

"Shame on you, she said, he's just being friendly."

"Yeah, I said. He's being too friendly for my taste!

So we stood there in the meadow, a big gaggle of happy talking equines, naturals, and with running playing foals under hoof and didn't see anything weird about it. Col. Roth introduced the rest of patrol and while we had no problem with the cervines and caprinaes the carnivores spooked us more than a little. We had never met any hybrid carnivores before and the big cats were especially frightening. All the foals ran back to their dams and the stallions put themselves between the females and the potential predators ready to fight. We had our ears laid back and were stamping the ground in warning. It was a really tense situation for a few minutes. Col. Roth understood what was happening and realized he shouldn't have let the carnies approach us with foals around, so he told them to "Beat it for now" and they melted back into the woods and were gone in seconds. We stayed on the alert for a few more minutes, nervously twitching our ears and scenting the air, but gradually calmed down.

"I'm sorry about that, said Col. Roth. We've never encountered such a large herd with so many foals before. We should have realized what a stupid stunt that was. But really my carnies are great folks, and you'll know it when you get to know them. One thing all hybrids do is stick together, no matter what the species. It is the number one taboo of the carnies to prey on fellow hybrids, and any that do are hunted down and destroyed by the other carnies. We may have different bodies, but we're all human. In time we would come to accept our fellow carnie hybrids as equals, but that was still some time away.

Col. Roth explained exactly what had happened (we'd figured out some of it but he filled us in on the rest) to us. He told us about the mutagen viruses, what they had done to us and why. When he told us a few humans had also survived that made us really sit up and take notice. We had assumed every last human had changed or died during their change. A true pure human was a link to the past that helped us to remember who we had been, and still were. We would just touch them to feel them to see if they were real and longed just to be with them, just to smell them. He told us about the resistance and how hybrids were fighting back with the help of a small handful of humans, and he asked us to join them to help take back our civilization and our planet.

I talked it over with my mates first for quite some time. Most of us were worried we'd be more a hindrance then a help. We just weren't suited to be soldiers. Especially the Donkeys that had been so conditioned to care for other animals. They could not stand even the very thought of killing another living being, even a Krill. And I flat out would not let any of my mares or Jennies go into harm's way, and would fight to prevent that. But Roth explained how while equines didn't make good frontline soldiers they were essential for supply and support positions. They were the backbone of the transport and supply branches that without the resistance could not survive. Also as policy any mares or Jennies with foals were assigned to nursery herds and given safe rear area, but still vital, duties. The Donkeys were particularly valuable as they became the medics and medical personnel as they were ideally suited for it. Roth was also delighted to find we had lots of extra collars as they were in such short supply he had been sharing four collars with his unit of twelve hybrids. There were now enough for every one with over twenty left over.

So we decided to join the resistance. We could have said no and continued to live a simple but limited animal existence, or we could fight to regain our humanity and an existence as sentient beings. So there was really no choice. We were trained and assigned with other ponies, horses, mules, and Donkey's to the 2nd Heavy Equine Artillery and Mortars Battery. Now we fought and died to make every hybrid free.

END

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