Victory

by CrazyKriegsman

Homecoming

Returning to Albion was strange. As Night Shift stepped out of the train station and into the adjacent street, she couldn’t help but notice how little things had changed in her hometown.

Then again, what change was she expecting to see? Albion had been too far from the frontlines to bear the scars that Bales and Whillyapolis, even Fillydelphia to a certain extent, still did. Aside from the new dark-and-blue banners sporting the Empress own effigy hanging from nearby lampposts and poles, everything from tallest office building to the tiniest food shop looked exactly like two years prior.

Ponies, and the occasional griffon, went around to do their business mostly on hoof or by trams. No cars though. Strict fuel rationing was still in effect and few would be able to afford those anyway.

Night Shift had half a mind to take a public transport but decided against it. And as the heavy bag across her shoulder made flying not a very safe prospect, she set off toward her destination at a brisk trot. Her home was not far.

For a moment she thought back at that whole business in Manehattan and was more than glad for it to be over. From what she had heard, things were moving smoothly along even without her. The prosecutor had said something about “keeping herself available should the need arise”, but that had been almost two weeks ago.

Soarin would get what he deserved. She frowned. Well, not really; a bullet in the back of the head and a shallow ditch would have been more appropriate. Still, the Princess had decided to give him and all the others something that resembled an actual trial. Now that the war had ended, the time for barbarism was over too, wasn’t it?

Inevitably, Night Shift recalled her heated confrontation with that bitch of a defendant. The batpony grimaced. As much as she hated to admit it, she hadn’t been able to find a satisfactory answer to her question.

Not that she doubted for a moment the righteousness of her cause, of course.

Princess Celestia had done nothing in the past thousand years; nothing when thestrals were driven by force into the mountains and southern jungles; nothing when thousands upon thousands toiled away in the factories for a meagre wage while the upper crust threw lascivious parties in Canterlot; nothing when the entire north-east starved.

And when the request for actual change, spearheaded by Her own sister no less, had come before her, Celestia had chosen to ignore it. And when the voices had become too loud, she’d resorted to violence to maintain her rule.

Night Shift scoffed.

One fucking thousand years. Leave it to a literal goddess to find a way to waste all that bloody time.

Celestia had shown to the whole of Equus her true form, Daybreaker, a demon from Tartarus itself, and glassed Canterlot rather than seeing the Lunar banner flying from the castle’s spires. She had driven her remaining supporters to the edge of fanaticism in order to stop their advance.

Night Shift grinded her teeth. So many ponies dead only to satisfy a megalomanic alicorn and her ego. When the time had come, the whole of Equestria had seen who stood for real Harmony and Friendship.

And yet, that wasn’t really enough, was it?

So many had fallen as they fought on and on for the Tyrant. So many had failed when Harmony tested them.

Was she to accept the excuse that they’d all been deceived, brainwashed even, to fight for Celestia? And if it was so, did that imply that the same thing could happen on the Lunarist’s side as well?

Night Shift shook that thought off her mind.

That’s a dangerous path you’re going down, girl. Better stop right now. You fought for thestral lives everywhere, you did your duty and you should be proud of that. Stop overthinking it.

She made a quick stop in a shop to buy a sandwich with grilled cheese. Just a couple of years ago she couldn’t have imagined stepping inside any establishment without either receiving suspicious looks or being outright asked to leave.

Now, not only she saw a thestral couple seated at the tables and eating lunch with their colts, but the unicorn mare at the counter gave her an extra one on the house.

“Consider this a thank you for your service, ma’am,” she said, grinning. Night Shift would have probably refused it, out of courtesy more than anything else, but the train ride to Albion had been long and she was starving. She dropped a tip anyway and made her exit.

She came out just in time to see a military column sped its way in the opposite direction she was going, toward the train station. Soldiers in dark-blue uniforms sat in the back of crowded transport trucks. A few glanced her way and waved. A couple mares even saluted. Grinning, Night Shift saluted them back with a raised wing, until they disappeared behind a road’s bend and out of her view.

There wasn’t much doubt where they were all going.

West. Las Pegasus probably, or maybe Vanhoover. Or Anchorage perhaps. She shook her head. May the Princess help them all if they’re going to Anchorage.

It wasn’t a secret that the North-West was getting hotter by the day. And neither was the fact that Princess Luna -or Nightmare Moon, as those weirdos from Zebrica were adamant to call her- was not going to just let the bugs march all the way to Shire unopposed. Equestria would not be a second Olenia.

Now that peace -or something like that- had been brought in the Southern Jungles and Las Pegasus had been reintegrated -almost without a fight- the big showdown with the changelings was going to occur. The question was simply who was going to strike first.

There was a loud crash, followed by the sound of glass smashing against the stone pavement. And then a cry of pain. Night Shift came to a sudden stop.

“We had warned you once, didn’t we?!” Those words were punctuated by a second explosion of glass. “And yet you’re still here!”

Night Shift looked around, her ears perked up, trying to find the source. It wasn’t hard. Her acute thestral hearing had saved her live more than once. Some distance away, to her left, tucked between two tall tenements, there was an alley.

There!

She broke into a gallop across the street, dodged a couple of pony-drawn taxies in the process, pushed her way past a group of ponies waiting at a bus stop, and narrowly avoided collision with a street vendor, all the while muttering apologies and with her bag swaying and bashing against her side.

She stopped at the alley’s mouth. There were three ponies before her, some distance away; four with the earth pony stallion on the ground. The grizzled mane and fur suggested he was around fifty at the very least. Even from the distance separating the two, she could see a nasty bruise on the side of his head.

The other three, a stallion and two mares, were the complete opposite. Young, probably in their late teens. And of course, armed with batons.

The only unicorn mare of the group swung hers around, not against the older stallion, but on the last remaining glass of a nearby shop. His shop, probably. Glittering shards of glass littered the cobblestones.

“Seems like the first warning wasn’t enough, uh? That’s what happens when you let bloody Solarists walk scot free!” the second mare snapped, kicking him in the side just as he tried to climb back on his hooves. With a pain-filled groan, he went down again.

There was a general rule in the military that you should never begin a fight when the enemy outnumbered you. Then again, her training had been more of a crash course coupled with hooves-on experience.

“Hey! You three shit-heads!” Night Shift barked in the best impression of her old platoon sergeant. Her wings flared open and her fangs flashed. “What in the bloody fuck do you think you’re doing?”

To her sheer amazement, it actually worked. Maybe it was the voice, or maybe just the fact that anypony wearing a uniform and a shiny badge can look scary when far enough. In an instant all three whirled their heads around at her, eyes wide.

“Shit!” the mare hissed. As if on cue, all three bolted in the opposite direction at full speed.

Night Shift kept her sight on them, making sure just in case they wouldn’t turn back if they ever realized she was actually alone. That thankfully never happened, and the thestral drew a relieved breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Then she turned her attention to another, more important matter.

“Everything alright, sir?” she asked the stallion, one wing extended so to help him stand.

He simply stared blankly at her. He blinked at her, eyebrows furrowed, his eyes shifting from her face to her military fatigues. His lips moved.

Night Shift arched an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“Is this … is this a joke?”

“Joke?” She blinked at him. “Sir, did they hit you in the head that bad? What are you talking about?”

He shook his head. Without a word, and without even helping himself with her wing, he slowly climbed back to his hooves. Now that he was standing, Night Shift noticed with some surprise that the earth pony was actually taller than her. His mane might have been a dark brown once, but now it was mostly grey and unkept. He wore a brown work apron, mostly clean aside from the occasional stains.

He gave her a sceptical glance, before turning to address the damage at his shop. He sighed before kicking away idly with one hoof at some broken glass on the ground.

“That was stupid,” he muttered.

Night Shift’s head tilted in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“Next time they come back they’ll just be more pissed. Glass is easy to replace, and they would have gotten bored eventually. Now?” He sighed a second time. “I’d better keep my shotgun loaded for the next time.”

“If this happened before, why didn’t you just call the police?”

He chuckled. “What for?” His breath smelled heavy of tobacco. “As I said, it’s not the first time I have to replace those windows.”

“They didn’t look like they were interested just in smashing your place, old man,” she pointed out. “I’ve heard what they called you. They’re the kind of thugs the sooner they’re dealt with, the better for you.”

“They’re colts. It’s not their fault somepony put all that patriotic shit in their heads. They just repeat it ‘cause it rings nice in their ears.” He shot her a sidelong glance. “And they’re not the only ones, it seems.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked defensively.

“Nothing, nothing,” he waved a hoof. “Forget that I said anything. Thank you for your assistance, miss. Very kind of you. You’d better leave now though. I’ve got a few things to tidy up.” And without another word he stepped back inside the shop.

Night Shift gave him a curious look before turning and starting to leave. She managed to take a few steps before stopping, his hoof stumbling against something.

A quick glance down revealed it to be a wallet, and a pretty worn one at that. Scooping it up with a wing, she gave it a closer look. No ID was inside, but a quick shake caused it to emit a faint metallic rattle. Squinting a bit harder, she managed to barely make out the letters C.S. sewn on the leather.

Frowning, she cast another look back at the ruined shop.

It wasn’t really her business, right? Then again, it had kind of become her business the moment she had decided to step right into it. She had said it herself, looking for troubles was indeed a family thing.

Well, it’s not like I have anything else to do. Home is not going anywhere.

Adjusting her bags’ leather straps on her shoulder, Night Shift turned around and walked inside the old stallion’s shop.