//------------------------------// // Desperate Counsel // Story: Penumbra // by Deep Pond //------------------------------// She sank into darkness. The chaos, the madness, the pain, the humiliation, all receded from consciousness. Here was peace. Here was sanctuary. Here, nopony would ever mock her. Here, she was safe. She let the darkness enfold her like a mother's touch, warm and protective. Applejack came awake slowly, every nerve tingling. She became aware that she was lying on a hard, cold, lumpy surface. Had she fallen out of bed? She moved a foreleg, searching for her blanket. Abruptly, memory came flooding back and her eyes flew open. The Mayor, Trixie, the lightning . . . Blinking, she surveyed her surroundings. She was lying in a dirty, rust-spotted metal cage, just large enough for her to turn around in. The cage was positioned in a clump of trees, and nearby stood two of the dogs – the smaller ones, wearing metal helmets and armed with lances – looking bored. The trees cut off her immediate view, but off to one side Applejack could hear the activity of many creatures – diamond dogs, no doubt. Trixie was nowhere in sight, and neither were any griffins. It appeared that Applejack was being saved for later, a prospect that made her shudder. Those eyes . . . A moment later she shuddered again, catching sight of what at first appeared to be a pile of colorful sacks. It proved, instead, to be bodies: the corpses of the Mayor and the other ponies who had accompanied her, tossed in a heap like so much refuse. Applejack saw the Mayor's tan coat, charred black by the lightning strikes; then she recognized Clover's black tail protruding from the bottom of the heap; finally, she saw Dizzy Twister's yellow wing, lying limp and bloody. Applejack gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears came anyway. Dead . . . she killed them all. They didn't deserve this. She choked back a sob, refusing to let the grief overwhelm her. Rage was what she needed now. They would pay. Inhaling deeply, she shook her head and staggered to her feet, her legs still slightly numb. The two guard dogs watched her disinterestedly as she examined the cage itself. It was solidly built, including a barred floor to prevent escape by digging, and while her dexterous tail could probably reach the lock, she had no way to unfasten it. Applejack explored the openings between the bars. She could probably squeeze her head through, but there was no chance that the rest of her body would fit. She had no idea how long it would be before Trixie – Fallax Equa – whoever she was would come back. If Applejack was going to escape, she had to do so as quickly as possible. Experimentally, she gave one of the horizontal bars a light kick. It held, but it wasn't all that thick, and she had plenty of experience with bucking things. Lining herself up, she let fly with both hind legs, delivering a smashing buck to the bar. This caused the entire cage to jerk and brought both guard dogs to their feet. Applejack turned and examined the bar; it was bent slightly, but not enough to be of any real help. Turning back, ignoring the dogs, she bucked it again. And again. On the third buck her left hind hoof cracked against the iron bar. Pain lanced up her leg and she hopped awkwardly away on three hooves, with a shout of “Horse apples!” One of the dogs snickered and they relaxed visibly; clearly, their charge wasn't about to get out. Favoring her injured hoof, Applejack limped in circles for a few minutes until the pain subsided somewhat. The dogs, apparently bored, ambled over to the pile of dead ponies. After a moment there were low yips of excitement and the sounds of scuffling. Applejack remembered that two of the earth ponies had worn saddlebags, filled with who-knew-what. She guessed that the dogs were now finding out. She examined the bar again, and discovered that her exertions had bent it noticeably outward and upward. The gap was still too small to let her escape, but the bar was rusty, and if she could fit her head and front hooves in . . . “Y'all never tried to hold an earth pony before,” she muttered to herself. Lying down, she slipped both front hooves into the gap between the bent bar and the floor, then forced her head in as well. It cost her two scraped ears and some painfully pulled hair, as well as knocking off her hat, but she managed. Then, bracing herself as well as she was able, she pushed. Muscles straining, Applejack tried to straighten her front legs, putting all her infamous stubbornness into the effort. The bent bar dug into her shoulders. Her cracked hoof stung viciously. She was cramped and unable to get good leverage, but she would not relent. Seconds ticked by. If she could just bend that bar a little bit more . . . The sounds of the squabbling guard dogs died down. She didn't have much time. Sweat stung her green eyes, but Applejack didn't allow herself to falter. She . . . would . . . not . . . Abruptly, the bent bar gave way at one end with a distinct ping! Applejack forced herself upright, scraping both shoulders in the process. She had a chance, but she had to be quick. Digging her cracked hoof into the soil, ignoring the pain, she tried to force herself through the gap. One of the guard dogs appeared around the pile of corpses. His expression of surprise was almost comical; his eyes widened and his jaw literally dropped. Then he uttered a sharp bark and came at her. Applejack tore her way free of the gap, the jagged metal gashing both her flanks. Without hesitation she galloped straight for the guard dog, even as the second one appeared. The first dog swung his clawed paws at her but Applejack was having none of it. Gathering herself, she leaped and came down hard on the dog. The unfortunate creature went down with a yipe and a crunch, and Applejack reared and delivered a double-hoofed deathblow. “That was for Clover, ya cur!” she snarled, barely restraining herself from screaming aloud. The second dog, seeing his partner so quickly defeated, skidded to a halt. As Applejack turned her glare on him, he turned and ran. “Oh no ya don't,” she said through gritted teeth, and galloped after him. If this one got away the entire army would be after her, lickety-split. Pushing through the pain of her various injuries through sheer desperation, she caught up with the slower-moving dog and literally ran him over. The dog tumbled, yipping with distress. Applejack dug her hooves into the ground and, as the guard dog regained his feet, let loose a powerful buck right in his armored head. Metal crunched, and the dog collapsed into a boneless heap. “And that,” she panted, “was for Dizzy.” She stood quietly a moment, recovering her breath and listening. The noise of the army did not increase; it seemed no one had heard the brief battle. Maybe squabbles were normal among the diamond dogs. Whatever the reason, Applejack knew she couldn't afford to stretch her luck. She returned to the cage, snatched her hat out with a quick flip of her tail, then turned to go. The sad heap of bodies caught her eye again, and she frowned. Something was wrong. Choking back both grief and rage, she forced herself to scan the dead ponies, identifying each one. There was the Mayor, her tan coat charred black. There were Clover and Dizzy Twister, and a pink pegasus pony she vaguely remembered, scorched by lightning and slashed by griffin talons. There were three more earth ponies, two mares and a stallion, gashed and bloodied by canine claws. Applejack frowned. Where were the unicorns? She counted again, quickly, knowing that she wasn't always the swiftest-thinking pony. Seven bodies: five earth ponies and two pegasus ponies. Not a one of the six unicorns who had accompanied them. No sign of Colgate or Lemon Tart or any of the others. This couldn't be good. Applejack decided she couldn't waste time investigating this. As much as she wanted to find those missing unicorns, she had to get back to Ponyville and warn the others, and if anyone caught her . . . the memory of Fallax Equa's turquoise eyes made her shudder. Tugging her hat down firmly, she began making her stealthy way back to town. The town center was in a state of complete pandemonium. The crowd of ponies had doubled in size in the past few hours, and now several hundred ponies thronged the town center. The army had been seen by many, and all could tell that the ominous dome of clouds over Ponyville was unnatural. Emotions were at a fever pitch, and Applejack's return – bloodied, battered, and bearing a terrible tale – had sparked conflicting reactions among the ponies. Some, Rainbow Dash among them, were furious, and argued for an immediate, retaliatory strike on the dogs and griffins. Others wanted to fortify Ponyville as well as they could, hoping to avoid a bloody conflict. A few insisted that Applejack must be wrong, or at least exaggerating; such horrible things had not occurred in Ponyville in living memory. And a significant number – lead, if unofficially, by the Flower Trio of Daisy, Lily and Rose – had given in to sheer panic and ran wildly about, screaming that they were all doomed. With the Mayor gone, Ponyville lacked a central authority figure to hold the crowd together. The town watch – a dozen ponies who formed the combined police force, fire-fighters, and general serviceponies – were trying valiantly to maintain order, but they had never experienced anything like this. What they needed, Twilight Sparkle thought, was a troop of Celestia's royal guards to snap things into shape. They needed military discipline, if even half of Applejack's story was true – and, knowing the orange pony as she did, Twilight did not doubt it for a second. If anything, she was probably understating the danger. They needed somepony to take charge. They needed to stick together and work in a coordinated fashion. They needed . . . organization. Twilight swallowed hard, then walked reluctantly to the podium. She didn't want to do this; wasn't ready for this! Maybe if she had a few hours to prepare, to compose a speech and a checklist of what needed to be done . . . But she didn't have hours. She didn't have minutes. “Excuse me!” she called. “Could I have everypony's attention, please!” No reaction. There were still a dozen different arguments going on, the Flower Trio was still running around madly, the watch was trying desperately to keep things from escalating to a full-scale riot, and now she noticed more ponies – farmers and orchardists, from the look of them – trickling into the town center from the outlying region. “Hey!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “Everypony!” A few of the nearer ponies turned to stare at her, but the majority of the crowd paid her no heed. This was ridiculous. Twilight focused her magical power briefly and a lighting bolt leaped skyward from her horn, accompanied by a sharp crack! of thunder. Silence fell, and the crowd of ponies turned to stare at Twilight with various expressions of surprise. Twilight swallowed again. “Most of you know Applejack,” she began, her voice sounding thin and weak to her own ears. “You know she's always there when anypony needs her. You know her word is always good.” She paused, seeing a few ponies nodding. “You've heard what Applejack had to say about the army of griffins and diamond dogs, and about this . . . Fallax Equa person.” Twilight had decided not to mention Trixie's name, figuring it would only confuse the townsponies. Besides, from what Applejack had said, Fallax Equa was a far cry from the hammy showmare they had known. “I don't know about you, but I trust Applejack, and I believe her. If what she's said is true – if even half of what she's said is true – than Ponyville is facing a genuine crisis. Now, I know we can get through this, but we have to work together. Running around in a panic won't accomplish anything. Princess Celestia taught me –” “Hey, that's right!” called somepony from the crowd. “You're the Princess's student! Can't you just call her and get her to help?” There was a general murmur of agreement at this suggestion, and Twilight winced. She'd hoped nopony would think of that. She had, some time before Applejack returned, and had tried to send a letter off to Celestia via Spike's enchanted fire breath. However . . . “Unfortunately, that won't be an option,” she stated flatly, stilling the muttering. “I recently tried to contact the Princess, and . . . it's didn't work. Apparently this strange cloud is blocking off magic as well as sunlight.” Renewed muttering, this time with a hysterical edge to it. Sompony screamed “We're trapped!” Desperately, Twilight racked her brain to find what to say, how to calm this maddened crowd. She caught a glimpse of a large figure moving through the agitated crowd, heading her way. It seemed to be wearing armor, and for a wild moment she thought it was one of Celestia's royal guard pegasi. They would know what to do; they would be able to impose order and take command of this mess! But the pony in the armor wasn't white; he was red. A large, red earth pony with a ragged orange mane and short-cropped tail. In fact, it looked almost like – “Big McIntosh?” she burst out in astonishment. Sure enough, Applejack's big brother was making his slow, determined way directly towards the podium. Gone was his ubiquitous yoke; he was wearing heavy, bronze-colored armor, even heavier than that of the pegasus guard, and carrying a sack in his mouth. The big stallion reached the edge of the crowd, stopped, and very deliberately set his sack on the ground. The hysterical ponies quieted significantly as he did so; McIntosh commanded attention for both his physical presence and his status as head of one of Ponyville's largest farms. From off to one side, where she was being tended by Fluttershy, Twilight distinctly heard Applejack chuckle. McIntosh raised his head and turned sideways, eyeing the crowd while still keeping Twilight in his line of sight. Silence fell; the farm pony rarely spoke, but when he did he was heard. “Y'all know me,” he began in his slow, casual way, eyes half-lidded as if on the verge of sleep. “Ah'm McIntosh Apple. Me an' Applejack run Sweet Apple Acres. “But Ah wasn't always a farmer.” Twilight's ears pricked up; she had never guessed that McIntosh, of all ponies, was something more than he seemed. “ 'Bout ten year back,” he continued, “Ah had a fancy t' see Equestria, so Ah up and joined the Guard. Did mah turn; saw some places; saw some action. Had enough after two years, so Ah come back to th' farm, and been happy there ever since.” Twilight shot a glance at Applejack, who grinned despite her wounds and the bleak situation. “And one thing Ah learned,” McIntosh was saying, “is that we got to stick together. If we start shakin' around like trees in a windstorm, we're just goin' to lose all our apples. Now, Ah say –” “Why should we listen to you?” demanded somepony – an earth pony stallion Twilight didn't recognize, his eyes wide with panic. “You say you were in the Guard, but so what? You're just a farmer and a common soldier!” Applejack laughed again. “Go on, big brother!” she called “Tell 'em who y' are!” McIntosh looked at the heckler, not aggressively, not even opening his eyes all the way, and the stallion paled. McIntosh nudged his sack open with one hoof as he continued speaking. “Ah seen some action,” he repeated. “Mostly 'gainst bandits and a couple o' monsters out of the Everfree. But in the second year, we had a little bit of a rumble at Ghastly Gorge.” “Y'all every heard of Crimson?” Applejack called. Twilight stared at McIntosh, eyes wide. “That was you?” she squeaked. “Crimson, at the Battle of Ghastly Gorge? I've read about you!” McIntosh reached into his sack and produced a large helmet, in the style of the Royal Guards. It was made of the same bronze-colored metal as his armor, but the helmet was noticeably shinier and newer-looking, with no scratches or dents. It bore a large, red crest of horsehair that ran from the wearer's forehead to the back of the skull. With a practiced toss, McIntosh flipped it into the air and onto his head. “Got made Captain,” he drawled. “Field promotion. Which makes –” “That ain't all!” Applejack interrupted. “Tell 'em 'bout your medal, brother!” Medal? Twilight wondered. But . . . that's right! After the Battle of Ghastly Gorge, Crimson was awarded – McIntosh dipped into the sack again and produced a bit of bright metal shaped like a comet. He attached it to the front of his battered armor, where it gleamed like a tiny star. “The Silver Comet,” Twilight said, still mildly stunned. “Awarded for acts of exceptional courage on behalf of all Equestria.” “Eeyup,” said Big McIntosh. He turned to face Twilight, snapped his hooves together, and threw back his head, looking every inch the proud soldier. “And, as the ranking representative of the Equestrian Guard,” he continued, in as formal a tone as Twilight had ever heard him use, “Ah hereby recognize Miss Twilight Sparkle, personal 'prentice to Princess Celestia, an' the Hero of Ponyville, as actin' Mayor and military commander for the duration of the current crisis!” Twilight goggled, her jaw dropping. McIntosh returned her stare with his normal, heavy-lidded expression. The crowd of ponies was silent, aside of a few low murmurs. Abruptly, he clapped one forehoof against his chest armor with a ringing clang! in the traditional salute of the Equestrian Guard. “What are your orders, ma'am?” Twilight blinked, still recovering from the sheer shock. “My first order,” she retorted, “is that I want to speak with you, Captain Crimson. In private.” She pointed a hoof at Applejack, who was still grinning broadly despite her injuries. “And your sister, as well. Now.” “What in Celestia's name was that about?” Twilight demanded, only barely managing to keep her voice low. Fluttershy flinched but continued cleaning the grime off Applejack's coat with a damp cloth. For her part, Applejack just grinned. Big McIntosh gazed calmly back at the irate unicorn. “Ah was just doin' what had t' be done,” he said. “What is that supposed to mean?” “Somepony had to take charge,” the earth pony elaborated. “You're the best organizer in Ponyville. You're the Princess's personal 'prentice. You're smart. And you have the most powerful magic of any unicorn Ah ever heard of.” “All true,” Applejack agreed. Twilight glared at the mare, then turned her attention back to McIntosh. “That may be true,” she admitted, “but I am not going to be in charge! I haven't even lived in Ponyville a year! I'll help out however I can, but somepony else needs to lead . . . why not you?” McIntosh shook his head. “Too late,” he said. “What do you mean by that?” “He means,” Applejack explained, “that you've already agreed to take charge.” “Huh?” “When Crimson here asked you for orders,” Applejack said with an evil grin, “you gave 'em.” “What? But I – that doesn't –” Twilight spluttered. “Um . . . that's true, actually,” Fluttershy piped up. “You did sort of tell him what to do.” She flinched again as Twilight shot her a look. “And now everypony knows that Big Mac here is the highest-rankin' soldier we got . . . and he considers you his boss . . . and you already started givin' him orders,” the orange pony said. “It don't matter if you want the job or not, filly; you've already accepted it.” Twilight glared daggers at McIntosh. “You planned this, didn't you?” she demanded. “Eeyup.” Twilight looked from the placid McIntosh, to the amused Applejack, to Fluttershy who was trying to hide behind her friend. She heaved an enormous, melodramatic sigh. “Fine,” she said. “I'll do it. I don't have much choice anyway. “Eenope.” Twilight glared at McIntosh again. “And as my first – no, second – official order, Crimson, I want your advice on how we should deal with this. Start talking.”