//------------------------------// // Two Sides // Story: Victory // by CrazyKriegsman //------------------------------// The place was small, cramped to the brim with a multitude of objects: furniture of any kind and material, some of them looking quite fancy; boxes piled up one over the other; a couple of large gramophones; books filling the shelves together with old electronic parts and … wait, was that a car engine? The first word that came to Night Shift’s mind was junkyard, but that really didn’t render justice to that place. After all, it was quite clean in its own way and a lot less dusty than she might have imagined. “Hey, are you one of those antique dealers?” she asked aloud. Standing near the counter, the stallion looked up from a dust-filled piece of cyan cloth he was straightening up. He had a pair of sewing needles by his side. “Amongst other things.” If he was surprised to see her inside, he did not show it. “I’m good at putting things back together, so sometimes ponies come here looking for a fixer.” Night Shift nodded absentmindedly as she kept looking around, her eyes stopping for a moment over an old unicorn doll resting on a shelf. She leaned forward to have a better look at it, only to suddenly jerk her head back in disgust as the smell assailed her nostrils. Her eyes went wide, one foreleg going up to cover her nose. She heard the stallion chuckling behind her. “You might want to stay away from it, lad. Until I find a detergent strong enough, at least.” The thestral shot him an annoyed look. “Yeah, I’ve noticed it. Where in Tartarus did you buy it?” “I didn’t,” he said with a shrug. “Found it in a garbage can a few blocks from here. A real pity; aside from the smell, it was in good conditions.” “I’m sure it was.” Turning back her attention on him, she noticed something about the cloth he was holding. Aside from the dirt covering it, it looked strangely familiar. “Anyways, I think this is yours.” She placed the wallet back onto the counter. “You’ve lost it outside.” The stallion frowned, patting his apron’s pocket to check. “Seems so. Thank you again, miss,” he said as he scooped it up. Then, he extended a hoof across the counter. “I’m Coil Spring, by the way.” She took and shook it with no hesitation. “Night Shift.” Surprisingly enough, the old stallion still seemed to have a strong grip despite the appearances. “So, what’s the joke?” “Excuse me?” “Back outside, when I offered to help you. You said something about a joke. What was all that about?” “Uh? Oh, that.” He shook his head. “It’s bit hard to explain. Better if I just show you.” He disappeared behind a door and into his backshop without another word. He left the door half closed, so Night Shift could hear the sound of drawers being open and the shuffle of paper, all accompanied by a constant stream of muttered curses. He re-emerged a couple of seconds later, holding a thick bundle of paper by his chest. As he dropped it on the counter, Night Shift furrowed her eyebrows. “Do you also collect newspapers?” He shrugged. “Amongst other things.” Then he started rummaging through the pile. “Alright, let me see a moment, I think … No, this one’s too recent … I don’t know what this is doing here … almost there, I think, and … nope, that’s good only for the stove… There it is.” He pulled one of the newspapers from the stack and laid it down in front of her. “Take a look.” Night Shift shoot him a skeptical frown, but decided to see at least where all this was going. It was old, that much was clear; its once white pages were now a pale and sickly yellow, and the paper bore the signs of humidity on the rim. The characters were still readable though, and so was the date. 16 June 1005. Ah, fuck me. “I’ve gotta say, I almost didn’t recognize you with the fancy uniform. Then again, the Manehattan Chronicles really loves to put photos in their papers. It makes them sell faster, I think.” Night Shift narrowed her eyes at him. “Yeah, fine. That’s me. So what? That was years ago anyway.” Her words came out harsher that she wanted. The stallion raised a hoof defensively. “I didn’t want to offend you. Besides, it’s not like you’re the only socialist right here.” “You?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I think you’re the one kidding me now.” “Well, I started some time ago,” he said with a chuckle. “Once I left my love for Celestia behind, that is.” “Really? Why?” He shrugged. “Why are you wearing that uniform?” “What kind of question is that?” “A very pertinent one, believe it or not.” He grinned. “So?” “Cause I fancy it.” Night Shift rolled her eyes. “Seriously though, this thing is standard-issue. Why else would I be wearing it?” Coil Spring crossed his forelegs on the counter. “What I meant was why you chose to wear it. And don’t pull out on me excuses about your duty, honour or country, or some bullcrap like that,” he added, just as she was about to respond. “Cause if you are, we might as well stop right here.” Scowling, Night Shift opened her mouth … and then shut it. Much to her own astonishment, she found herself lost for words. And that question was supposed to be easy to answer. She had answered it before, although mostly to herself. But now that it was finally time to say it aloud? Suddenly the old justifications about duty and necessity sounded hollow. “I … well, I guess it’s because I wanted to change things, you know?” she began tentatively. As she saw him raising an eyebrow, she added, “I grew up in a certain environment, you see. My whole family did. There wasn’t really a way to avoid it, really, being a thestral and all that. The only place where that didn’t matter was the union. There, we all took care of each other.” She shook her head. “And yet that was never enough. No matter how hard we fought and how much we endured, our struggle was a desperate one. If it wasn’t a pay cut or laying off, it was some asshole throwing rocks at my mother’s shop. And of course, Canterlot didn’t care much. The only way we were gonna change things was with some noise.” “Not just a socialist then. Were you a markzist?” Coil Spring asked. “That’s how I used to see myself. But unions in Equestria had long ceased to embrace markzist ideas since the whole Stalliongrad’s debacle. That’s the only way they could hope to escape repression and stigma.” She shrugged. “We were basically revolutionaries without a revolution. Each of us youngsters had devoured Caramel Marks and Steel Stallion’s works, but there was nowhere to apply them. And then Princess Luna came back.” Night Shift gave a chuckle. “It wasn’t like a referendum was going to solve shit, mind you. Progressivism was not something known to exists in Equestria’s old politics. But with the Princess, well, I don’t know how to describe it, but she managed to make us feel like we were finally taking action. Hell, up to that point I had never cared much for the whole thestral’s right-thing; Albion never had many thestrals to begin with and the only clans I knew of were in the countryside, but the Princess managed to bring us all together. Then Manehattan went down and we all know the rest.” He nodded. “And so you won.” “Something like that.” Coil Spring furrowed his eyebrows. “You don’t seem all that thrilled.” “It’s a victory, I guess,” she said with a shrug. “Not the one a younger me would have hoped for, and I’m not sure this is the one I wanted in the first place. Maybe it was the one the dreams wanted.” “I’m not sure I’m following.” She froze, barely managing to catch herself from saying more. She merely shook her head. “Nevermind. It’s … I’m just pattering right now.” Night Shift wasn’t ready to talk about that. She hadn’t talked about it to anypony and she wasn’t going to start now. The dreams had arrived some time before Manehattan’s Bombing, maybe three or four months, she couldn’t be sure. Up to that point she had never actually seen the Princess, aside from photographs and newspapers. Even the idea that She could enter ponies’ dreams had remained some wild exaggerated rumours for her. Besides, with the millions of ponies in Equestria, she couldn’t see why a royal would take any interest in her. But to actually see Princess Luna stand before her, to hear Her voice as she asked for Night Shift’s help to change Equestria for the better? Well, that was not something you could just refuse. So she had worked hard, met with other ponies in places designated by Her in the dreams, and trained with weapons. If something looked eerie about the whole thing, especially once those hard-faced ponies from Zebrica started to show up at their weekly meeting, she just ignored it in her enthusiasm. And then the Civil War begun. And things started to look … odd. She still remembered the tales of whole battalions presumed lost behind enemy lines that showed up a week or so later, their COs claiming that the Empress herself had guided them away from peril. Or how the siege of Fillydelphia was finally broken, with units inside and outside the city mauling the Solarist lines with a coordination that shouldn’t have been possible by normal means of communication. Coincidences, she had believed at first. The military has always been a fertile place for superstitions, after all. But now that she gave the matter more and more thought, Night Shift couldn’t shake the ugly suspect creeping inside her mind. What if Princess Luna, Nightmare Moon, whatever the name is, what if she had entered my dreams and … I don’t know, put those thoughts inside my head? What if taking up arms had never been my choice to begin with? Night Shift shook her head, gritting her teeth in discomfort. No, that was ridiculous. Princess Luna would never do such a thing, not her own ponies. She’s an alicorn though. If she can rise both the Sun and the Moon now, what’s stopping her from doing it? Besides, isn’t what her Sister did? “Are you alright, miss?” Coil Spring’s voice brought her back to reality. She blinked a couple of times. “Mmh? Oh y-yeah, don’t worry. I was just … uhm, thinking.” “Right.” Looking for a way to change the subject, Night Shift’s eyes wandered over to the dirty piece of cloth the stallion was holding. The more she looked at it, the more the thing had strange air of familiarity. “I’m guessing you found that thing with the doll?” Coil Spring raised a curious eyebrow. Then, he snickered. “This thing? Oh no. No, this is far more valuable, you see.” “Doesn’t look like much.” “Appearances always deceive. It was so important that those kids decided to smash a tiny, worthless shop and kick an old stallion into the street.” As he finished saying that, the cloth now laid in full display. For a seemingly eternal moment, Night Shift simply stared at it, seemingly frozen in place. How long had it been since she had seen an actual flag of the old Diarchy? The thing looked like it had seen better days for sure, with one good chunk of the upper-left corner ripped away and missing, but the figure of the two alicorns, together with the Sun and the Moon at the centre, was still distinguishable. “You,” she paused, licking her lips in nervousness, “you’d better get rid of that thing. Like, right now.” “Not a chance, no,” He shook his head. “Besides, it’s not like it’s illegal, right?” “Not yet, you mean. But if somepony sees it hanging around here, you’ll have a lot more to worry that those punks. The police will be knocking at your door for questioning in not time, legal or not.” “Well, that’s not really a problem if nopony tells them.” He frowned. “Of course, unless you want to do it. You aren’t some kind of model citizen, are you?” Night Shift didn’t even need to think about it. She chuckled. “That’s not how I would describe me, no. Besides, I had my fair share of run-in with the police.” “I thought so. You had that air around you.” She grinned. “I’ll take it as a compliment. So, I’m guessing you served during the civil war, uh?” Coil Spring frowned. Then, he laughed. “What, me? Miss, my fighting days ended thirty years ago in a bar two block away from here. A kick in the knee tends to do that kind of thing to you.” “Really? Then why do you want to keep it?” she asked. If that stallion was willing to risk an off-the-book police raid, Night Shift reasoned, then he had to have some kind of deep connection with the old flag. “Believe it or not, but this old stallion used to serve once.” Night Shift frowned. “I thought you just said you got injured.” “You don’t need to run around that much when you’re a quartermaster. Anyway, I left soon after Stalliongrad. I had been away from the fighting due to my condition, but close enough to see the aftermath. I simply couldn’t bear anymore to be part of any of that.” “I imagine you lost friends there.” He nodded. “Yeah, but that alone wasn’t enough to make me quit. You certainly didn’t, right?” He shook his head and, without waiting her answer, continued, “No, it wasn’t just that. All of us had sworn an oath to protect Equestria and there we were, shooting stallions and mare that were just asking to be able to put bread on the table. The generals and politicians back in Canterlot could call them terrorists, insurgents or whatever fancy words they decided to come up with. It didn’t change the fact that we were murdering our own neighbours.” “So you’re keeping that thing because…?” “Because I’m an idiot that likes to think back to better times, when ponies didn’t just murder each other in the streets.” His eyebrows furrowed. “You know, that sounded a lot better in my head. Night Shift couldn’t keep the snicker escaping from her lips. “Oh, tell me about it!” “Uh?” She quickly shook her head. “Nothing, nothing. It just reminded me of something else. I didn’t mean to offend you.” “Nah, that’s alright, Miss. As I said, mine is just the daydreaming of an old stallion.” He smirked again, but this time it was different, bitter. Night Shift smirked back at him. She liked the stallion. Not just because the both of them had a military career behind, but also because they were strangely similar in some regards. “You know, I think you were right before.” Night Shift raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe I just needed to talk this over with somepony else to finally see that it may be time to set this old piece of cloth down from the wall and to rest.” “You don’t have if you don’t want to.” Night Shift grimaced, then she shook her head. “Look, forget anything that I said, alright? I didn’t know, well, all of that about you. I might not agree on the why, but if that’s important for you, you should feel free to keep it.” She smacked a hoof firmly on the ground. “And if those idiots keep bothering you, just give me a call. I’m still in touch with a couple of ponies around here.” “Thank you for the offer, miss, but that won’t be necessary.” He seized the Diarchy’s flag by one angle and began carefully folding it. “Besides, as much as I’d like to forget it, Old Equestria was not all that quiet compared to nowadays. Harmony is not all that pretty when you give it a closer look.” “Now,” Coil Spring said, setting the now folded cloth aside, “I need to find a place where to put this thing, though. I think I should have some boxes somewhere in the back.” Nigh Shift nodded, absentmindedly. A very crazy idea had taken shape in her mind. The more rational part of her was telling her no; that she was putting herself, her career, even Coil Spring in jeopardy if she chose to go ahead. “So, uhm, hypothetically speaking,” she began a bit awkwardly, “how much would you ask for that?” Oh dear goddess, you’re not doing it for real, are you? Coil Spring, who in the meantime had started making his way to a nearby shelf, stopped dead in his tracks. He gave her a look of surprise, but also visible relief. “Well, that depends. How much would you give me?” She briefly rummaged in her pockets. She really didn’t have all that much money with her. “Four bits. And some silver pieces.” He made a show of thinking about it, without even trying all that hard, before shrugging. “Not much, but I could make you a discount. Just because it’s you, miss,” he added with a grin. Without a second thought, and without giving herself a moment to backtrack, she emptied her remaining money on the counter, leaving him to scoop them up. “Don’t worry about a paper bag, I’ve got my own.” Night Shift gestured at the leather bag hanging from her shoulder. She made sure to place it with care inside, together with her personal belongings. She was on her way out when another thought came to mind. She removed something from her bag and placed it on the counter. The stallion shot her a questioning look. Her answer was a casual shrug and a smile. “Just a small way to thank you for your service. You like cheese, right?”