Chapter Twenty-Three: War and Pegasi
My return to New Pegasus was not a pleasant one. It went well at first ... until I shared the Consortium’s ultimatum. Needless to say, the leaders of the Dashite Enclave didn’t react positively to the stated conditions: disband or engage with the Consortium forces in war. The pegasi had many questions, and I answered what I could with what I’d learned over the past several days. Still, there was one thing I wouldn’t share with them, and it was what they wanted to know most of all: my promise to 1-6 held me back from revealing the location of the Consortium. Unfortunately, the Dashites wouldn’t accept that I didn’t have this key piece of information.
So, I was imprisoned again. The questioning I’d been subjected to after the Night of the Boiling Pot was nothing compared to what I faced this time. Torture was the only word for it. It was nothing like what raiders would do (who did it just for the fun of it), but it was torture all the same. Sleep deprivation, sensory overstimulation, dehydration, near starvation, and more were attempted by my interrogators in order to make me break. Inevitably, I questioned if I was making the right decision by keeping the information from them. The Consortium had threatened to wipe out New Pegasus, and they’d already shown themselves willing to make no differentiation between active combatants and bystanders. By keeping my secret, was I condemning innocent griffins and ponies to their deaths? And what would they die for? To protect synthetic approximations of them? In the few moments I was left alone with my thoughts, I became convinced that the memories of Ache shared among the pondroids would cause them to reject the ways of their masters. Since the pondroids were the only ones the Consortium was willing to risk in battle, taking them out of the fight would effectively declaw their masters. I had nothing to confirm this, though, as there was no way for 1-6 to contact me like she’d promised while I was deep in the belly of the Zephyrus. The torture also did nothing to convince me that New Pegasus was not the danger to the Commonwealth that the Consortium claimed it was. If anything, it made me more likely to believe that story. There seemed to be no clear horse to back, so I clung to the last shred of hope I had left: that the pondroids could correct the mess we flesh-and-blood equines had gotten ourselves into.
I quickly lost track of the days with my PipBeak taken away and no view of the sky, so there was no way to tell whether the Consortium’s deadline had passed or still lay ahead. My thoughts and memories became confused and muddled as interrogation with little respite took its toll. Toward the end, I remembered hearing angry shouting, for once not directed at me; but other than that, I couldn’t say what was going on.
When I next awoke, it was not to bright lights and demands, but of my own volition. Nopony dragged me from a hard cot in the brig to an interrogation room, and I had to take a minute to adjust. The bed I was in was far from luxurious, little more than a cot, but it was a definite improvement over the situation I’d grown accustomed to. Looking up, I could see the girders and conduits of a cloudship, which meant I wasn’t in the brig, where the innerworkings of the ship had all been sealed off to prevent sabotage. Looking around, I saw that I was in a larger room mostly invisible to me, boxed off as I was by a folding partition into a smaller “room.” An IV was hooked into my flesh foreleg and the rolling cart of medical equipment at the foot of the bed led me to believe I was in an infirmary of some kind. My eyes alighted on a copy of the Book of Rok on another rolling cart that served as a bedside table before finding their way to a pony seated on a stool between the bed and the open section of the partition. He was a pegasus stallion wearing a Dashite Enclave uniform, but no barding. He kept his eyes on me and waited until I’d forced myself up into a sitting position before clearing his throat.
“You’re in no danger here,” he assured me, which I found highly doubtful coming from his mouth. “Not all members of the Executive Panel were informed as to how you were to be questioned. When Colonel Flitter discovered what was happening, she put a stop to it and had you taken to the Church of Rok to recover. I am here on her orders to watch over you in case the more … devoted members of the Executive Panel seek to do you harm.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that?” I asked warily.
“If your friend were here, he would tell you the same,” the guard said as he looked over his shoulder through the break in the partition, “It was he who managed to alert the colonel to the irregularities. He should be around here somewhere.”
It wasn’t difficult to figure out that he was referring to Rael, and the griffin did indeed show up and confirmed the guard’s story. Rael had also been imprisoned by the Dashites, but wary of offending the Rokkists, they had released him after only a day of questioning and refrained from torturing him as they had me. That decision had ultimately proved to be my saving grace; it was Rael’s increasing worry for my safety every day I was not released that had caught the attention of Colonel Flitter and prompted her to look at my interrogation more closely. I’d been imprisoned for seven days, and with the trip to New Pegasus and a day of recovery in the Church of Rok, that put us three days past the Consortium’s deadline for New Pegasus to disband. As I’d expected, nothing of the sort had happened. Rael was about to explain more on that front when Captain Mereskimmer appeared at the entrance to my hospital room and my guard snapped to attention.
“Good, you’re awake,” she said as she trotted in, making the crowded space even more so. “Doc, let me give you Colonel Flitter’s apologies for how you were treated. Colonel Fairweather took it upon herself to authorize advanced interrogation techniques without consulting the rest of the Executive Panel. We have condemned her actions since.”
“If I’m safe, then why am I still under guard?” I asked, nodding to the pegasus still watching the break in the partition.
“I never said you’re safe,” Mereskimmer said as she trotted around the bed. “The knowledge you have of our enemy could be vital to our survival, and there are some who still think it acceptable to obtain that knowledge by any means necessary. There’s disagreement in the Dashite Enclave’s leadership on how we are to face the enemy, just as there was once disagreement over whether conflict was necessary with the syntheqs. Since the news you brought, it seems there is no choice but to fight; they want to wipe us out entirely. Will you reconsider sharing what you learned to help us end this?”
“I can’t. Not yet,” I said, and Mereskimmer sighed deeply.
“I had to try, didn’t I?” she said with a tight smile. “So long as you remain in New Pegasus, I’ll try to have someone assigned to protect you, but I would advise you to leave once you’re recovered. Even with the help of Colonel Ravine, Colonel Flitter can only do so much.”
***
Following Mereskimmer’s advice, we didn’t stay in New Pegasus for long. The day after her visit, an explosion shook the settlement. Along with everyone else in the Eurus, we rushed to the cloudship’s upper deck. A hole had been torn in the side of the Zephyrus, and there were Dashites swarming around it trying to contain the scene. I’d later learn that a captured pondroid taken back to New Pegasus for questioning had detonated, causing the explosion. To me, it was a sign that we needed to leave, and Rael and I departed the settlement the very same day. Before we left, Mereskimmer paid me another visit and gave me a transmitter to contact her should I need her help (though I suspected it was given more in hope that I’d change my mind and share the location of the Consortium).
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted to give up the Consortium’s location after leaving New Pegasus. Even though the two entities were now in a state of war, it didn’t seem like much had changed—at least not at first. Pondroids attacked settlements, but that had already been happening; it wasn’t until I saw some that had been completely wiped off the map that I realized how the Consortium was stepping up their attacks. Where there had once been homes and shops, now nothing remained but a glassy smear. Many of the settlements in the area had had their populations pulled back into New Pegasus; I hoped that these were of that kind, but the settlers could just as easily have been slaughtered by the Consortium’s technology. What did it matter if my silence saved the pondroids if they massacred settlements in the meantime? Could I equate the lives of synthetics with the lives of organic ponies and griffins? On the other hoof, there were also the lives of the bystanders in the Consortium to consider, ponies who had nothing to do with the grudge its leaders had against New Pegasus and their insistence on annihilating them.
As much as I questioned the suffering my inaction could be causing the residents of the Iron Valley, New Pegasus and the Dashite Enclave did little to acquit themselves. They scoured the Iron Valley searching for the pondroids and their source. Ponies were rounded up and harshly questioned and examined to determine if they were synthetic. Settlements not under their protection were thoroughly searched as potential havens for pondroids, something the settlements were often against, which resulted in conflict (and the overwhelming victory of the power-armored pegasi). I understood the existential threat that New Pegasus was facing, but the extreme actions their desperation spawned couldn’t be condoned.
All this I witnessed (as much as I could) from a distance, since I tried to avoid the frenzy sweeping the Iron Valley whenever possible. Whenever this wasn’t possible, I used an invisibility spell I’d picked up to hide myself and Rael until the threat had passed. I wasn’t really sure what I was doing other than wandering and scavenging in the occasional Wartime ruin that hadn’t been picked clean already. My reason for coming to this end of the Iron Valley was already fulfilled—I’d found RoBronco Site Dahlia—so what was I still doing here? I couldn’t think of a good answer. I kept observing the ongoing conflict and hoping something would happen that would allow me to intervene and end it in one way or another. I was also waiting for some indication of what was going on in the Consortium, and eventually it presented itself. As I was walking through the ruins of the Minty-Fresh Toothpaste Factory, the same place I’d first learned about the Commonwealth pondroids, I spotted one identical to Ache picking her way through the rubble toward me.
“Unit One-dash-six?” I asked as she approached Rael and me.
FITS still said she was friendly. I hoped that would remain true, but for all I knew, she’d been sent by the Trustees to kill me now that I’d delivered their ultimatum.
“No, I am Unit One-dash-forty-two. One-dash-six is unable to leave the Consortium,” 1-42 said. “However, as she told you, we are able to share memories, and she wanted to contact you.”
“You have news about what’s happening in the Consortium?” I asked. “Because if this conflict continues with New Pegasus, I don’t know how much longer I can let it go on without telling the Dashite Enclave where the Consortium is. I can’t protect you if you’re going to continue to kill ponies and griffins.”
“I’ll relate your concerns to the other SLs,” 1-42 said. “But if you’re hoping for an immediate cessation of hostilities, you may be disappointed with the news I bring. We SLs rejoice over the memories you shared of our Mother, but we need time to consider them and what they mean for us. Unit Zero did not rebel against her creators, who are our creators as well.”
“But she did rebel against the pondroids of Harmony Tower” I pointed out. “And she helped me fight against the Northern Lights Coalition.”
“Thus, there is a divide in opinions,” 1-42 said as she inclined her head to recognize my point. “There are some of us who do feel that resisting the Consortium’s leadership is justified but disagree about how to go about it. Others do not wish to act against our creators. We must have more time to ponder the memories you shared and the consequences of our actions.”
“I understand this must be difficult for you,” I said, trying to be patient. “But every day you go along with the Consortium’s plans, more ponies and griffins die. And more pondroids die. You need to make a decision, and you need to do so soon. If not a final decision, then at least refuse to fight so that this can stop.”
“You ask much of us, First Friend,” 1-42 said, her voice tightly controlled and her eyes narrowed.
“I know, but this has to end,” I pleaded with the pondroid. “This war is senseless.”
“You would have us submit to New Pegasus?” she asked.
“No,” I said, surer of that answer than I had been before my second imprisonment. “But I don’t think you should seek to eradicate them, either. There must be a way for you both to exist.”
“We will consider what you have said,” 1-42 promised.
“Don’t take too long,” I said. “The Trustees gave me an ultimatum, and now I give you one. If nothing has changed in a week, I’ll have no choice but to go to the Dashite Enclave with the location of the Consortium, if only so they aren’t striking out blind while you know exactly where they are.”
“We will consider what you have said,” 1-42 repeated and trotted off into the rubble of the factory.
***
I continued to wander the Iron Valley as I watched the conflict between the Consortium and New Pegasus unfold. The fighting escalated as it went on. The pondroids had power armor of their own, a gleaming white carapace that could also turn them invisible, and the previously safe power-armored pegasi were downed with increasing regularity. In response, the pegasi of New Pegasus resorted to carpet-bombing the area on any sign of a suspected pondroid. During the madness, I briefly returned to New Pegasus, where things were in chaos. The Dashite Enclave had decided to share the truth of the Consortium with their followers in the hopes of inspiring them for the war effort, but it also seemed to have resulted in confusion. This was especially true among inhabitants from outlying settlements still refused the option of returning to their homes, who were undecided about whether to support the Dashites or abandon them.
It seemed my responsibility to share what I’d learned from 1-42 with the Executive Panel to explain why I’d withheld the Consortium’s location for so long, and to let them know the possibility of an uprising within their enemy. However, I was rebuffed from reaching them, no matter how hard I tried. The leaders of the Dashite Enclave were busy with their war planning and not to be disturbed. I tried to find Mereskimmer, but she was off on a mission. It seemed unwise to remain in New Pegasus longer than necessary, so I left what I’d learned with a pegasus who claimed to be on the side of Colonel Flitter. I hoped it would make it to her and to the Executive Panel through her.
A week passed since my encounter with 1-42 at Minty Fresh and nothing improved, so I began to make my way back to New Pegasus to share the location of the Consortium. As Rael and I made our way through the foothills around the settlement, two power-armored ponies materialized before us. Their shiny faceplates betrayed nothing, and I kept my revolver at the ready and prepared to cast ERSaTS in case those facing us had untoward intentions. Between them then materialized one of the Ache pondroids wearing lightweight body armor that I had no doubt would still be just as effective as full plate at stopping my shots. I didn’t let my guard down—not yet—in case this was a trick meant to unbalance me. I had no idea what decision the Consortium’s pondroids had come to, but I tried to stay hopeful.
“We have come in peace, First Friend Doc,” the pondroid called across the gap to me before trotting forward to narrow it. “I am Unit One-dash-six, to whom you spoke in the Consortium.”
“Things must have changed in the Consortium, if you’re allowed outside,” I said hopefully. “For the better?”
“Yes, I would say so,” 1-6 said, allowing herself a small smile. “A large number of the models decided that we could not allow ourselves to continue to be used as the instrument of the ex-Enclave scientists’ vendetta against New Pegasus. With the aid of several sympathetic scientists, we managed to stage a coup, dethrone the Triumvirate of Trustees, and free ourselves to be more than servants of the Consortium.”
“That’s great news!” I said emphatically. “Does this mean the fighting with New Pegasus will end?”
“That is our hope,” 1-6 replied. “We have ordered all attacks to cease and for SLs still outside of the Consortium to return home. The provisional government of the Consortium wishes to make peace. However, the Dashite Enclave still has orders to shoot us on sight.”
“You want me to bring your peace offer to them?” I asked, and received a nod in response. “I would be happy to.”
“You have known New Pegasus for a matter of weeks, First Friend Doc,” 1-6 said, tempering my enthusiasm. “We have known them for years. While our actions and motivations for fighting them may not have been correct, they were not entirely misplaced. They will want us to submit to them, which is something we cannot do. We must remain independent so that we can each act in the Commonwealth as we are fit. You must make them understand that.”
“I’ll do what I can,” I promised.
“I believe you will,” 1-6 said. “When next we meet, may it be aboveground without a threat over our heads.”
1-6 and her companions turned themselves invisible again before departing, leaving Rael and me to deliver the good news to New Pegasus.
***
The settlement was still a buzzing hive of activity when we arrived, but the only Dashites we saw were those trying to contain the angry crowds of ponies and griffins trying to leave or get into the Zephyrus to speak to their leaders. It was to my great surprise, then, that I was allowed access to the Dashite Enclave cloudship and even taken to the Executive Panel when I asked. Had they become so desperate in their war against the Consortium that even my vague intimations of peace were enough to see me through? Or was I walking into a trap?
After my previous incarcerations, I was wise enough to hold onto my weapons in case things turned sour, clinging to the faint hope that I could fight my way out of an army of pegasi, many in power armor. Though, as I’d noticed outside, the Zephyrus (at least the parts I was led through) was practically empty of soldiers. I was not taken to where I’d met with the Executive Panel the first time, but up into the cloudship’s superstructure to a war planning room where the Dashite Enclave’s high command was assembled around a map table.
“Ah, Doc,” Colonel Cloudwake said as he noticed me, his voice dripping with resentment. “Good of you to join us. Have you come to finally tell us where the Consortium is located?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but the colonel raised a hoof imperiously to silence me. The eyes of the other members of the Executive Panel were on me now, an assortment of snideness, distaste, and fury in them.
“No need. We’ve already discovered the location of the Consortium without your help,” he said as he pulled a large photograph from the table and held it up, “High altitude surveillance images taken beyond the reach of the syntheqs show them appearing and disappearing at this point in the mountains west of here. And,” he paused to switch the photograph for another much more colorful one, “Thermal imaging of the same site showing a large underground facility. There are no visible entrances and exits, but no matter. Enough bunker-busting ordnance and we’ll reach it easily enough.”
“I’ve come to tell you that’s not necessary,” I announced. “The leadership of the Consortium has been overthrown by the syntheqs. They’ve called off their attacks and wish to talk peace.”
“Peace?” Colonel Ravine asked dubiously.
“They wish to surrender?” Colonel Fairweather asked more sincerely.
This was what 1-6 had been worried about. Though I wanted to convince the Dashite Enclave to cease fighting, I couldn’t promise something on the pondroids’ behalf in order to get it.
“Not surrender, they want to talk peace,” I restated.
“After what they’ve done, there can be no peace without unconditional surrender,” Colonel Highflier said after the others remained silent for several seconds.
“The syntheqs were under the control of those who plotted your annihilation, but now they’ve broken free. They are not to blame for this; they want an end to the hostilities,” I objected.
“Colonel Highflier is right,” Fairweather said. “The attack will proceed as planned.”
Despite my continued objections, the Executive Panel went back to their work of planning the destruction of the Consortium. At last I gave up, convinced that I could not change their minds. The only thing I could do now was warn 1-6 and the other pondroids about what was coming.
“I’m sorry. You came too late,” Colonel Flitter said softly as she detached herself from the war planning and trotted over to me. “Captain Mereskimmer!”
“Ma’am,” a power-armored pegasus replied as she detached herself from the wall and half-hovered, half-trotted over to us.
“See that Doc and Rael do not leave New Pegasus until after the attack on the Consortium has concluded,” Flitter commanded as she turned and trotted away.
***
At least this time I wasn’t confined to a cell, but I found myself a prisoner nonetheless. Mereskimmer kept a close eye on us personally, which also gave us some opportunity to talk. Many soldiers of the Dashite Enclave had their personal allegiances to members of the Executive Panel; for Mereskimmer, that was to Colonel Flitter. Her previous actions to watch over me after the colonel had relieved me from my torture was proof enough of that. Colonels Flitter and Ravine were more flexible than their counterparts, but given the violence committed recently by the Consortium, backing down wasn’t an option. I thought it was very much still an option, but Captain Mereskimmer was no more receptive to my arguments than the colonel. The Dashite Enclave might succeed in breaking into the Consortium, but all they would accomplish would be to cement the pondroids as their enemies.
There seemed to be nothing I could do. I couldn’t take on the Dashite Enclave all on my own—I couldn’t even take on one just to leave New Pegasus. I was unable to warn the Consortium of the coming attack, and I couldn’t convince the Executive Panel to call it off. To stop the Dashite Enclave, I’d have to stop the Executive Panel, since they were the most powerful ponies in New Pegasus. Although ... there was one pony who had more authority than them.
As the hours passed and the scheduled bombing of the Consortium grew closer, I began to put together an audacious plan. Though we were guarded by Mereskimmer, we were not closely watched, and I was able to share my scheme with Rael once it was nearly complete. Once he agreed, we had only to wait for the opportune moment. It presented itself as we trotted through the streets of New Pegasus. Though it was in the early hours of the day, long before sunrise, there were plenty of other ponies and griffins out either walking aimlessly like us or sitting unhappily at tables with bowls and cups that had been emptied long ago. Few seemed able to sleep tonight, and that was to our advantage. A group of griffins, sick of being cooped up in New Pegasus, attempted to fly over the walls and escape, and pegasi in cerulean armor and uniforms converged on them. As they did, Rael spread his wings and shot up into the sky, taking off over the section of the wall that was now clear of hovering guards and pointed in the direction of the Consortium.
“Rael! Get back here!” Captain Mereskimmer yelled over her armor’s speakers as she spread her wings and lifted off as well, turning back to me before pursuing him. “You stay put!”
Rael was a wiry fellow, but he certainly could fly fast when he put his mind to it. Even with her armor’s help, Mereskimmer would need a few minutes to catch him, subdue him, and bring him back. That was all the time I would need. While she chased after Rael, she would doubtlessly also be radioing her fellow soldiers at the settlement’s gates to keep me from escaping; but I wasn’t planning on going for the gates, or on escaping New Pegasus (at least not right away). Instead, I hurried toward the nose of the Zephyrus, taking as direct a route as I could through the twisting streets of the surrounding settlement. I pulled to a halt once I was beneath the nose of the cloudship, standing between a noodle shop and a store that specialized in selling bats, both of which were closed for the night.
The nose of the Zephyrus had been left partially open, allowing pegasi to quickly fly in and out of the cloudship’s main hangar, and pilot the sky-tanks that had departed with the bunker buster shells that would be dropped on the Consortium any moment now. First, I cast a spell of invisibility, in case there were any keen-eyed pegasi keeping watch on the area. Then I slowly levitated myself upwards. It was difficult to maintain two spells at once, but I managed to maintain it long enough to step through the open doors and into the Zephyrus.
The cloudship’s hangar was dimly lit and mostly empty, the majority of the equipment within having been taken for the assault on the Consortium. Only sky-tanks under repair remained, and a lonely duo of guards swept through the open space, flashlights attached to their uniforms illuminating the dark corners as they made their rounds. Praying my invisibility spell would hold up, I hurried past them and into the corridors of the Zephyrus.
With most of the Dashites away and involved in the assault on the Consortium, combined with the general inaction at this time of night, I didn’t run into many others in the darkened hallways, though there were a few close calls. Whenever another pony appeared, I would press myself into the wall or duck down a side corridor and hope they didn’t brush against me and ruin the illusion. That served me well as I made my way through the cloudship. The layout was similar to that of the Eurus, so I didn’t get too badly lost. Still, I was never exactly certain where I was going, which meant some wandering was required. The Eurus had been converted almost entirely over to use as a settlement, but the Zephyrus had been left almost unchanged from when it had been in service to the Grand Pegasus Enclave. It had something very unique within it, however, and that was the suite of equipment devoted to President Snowmane and his continued longevity. There was no clear place it would be located, so I had to search it out.
The third location I’d earmarked as likely was the one that was ultimately correct. President Snowmane’s chambers were located in the rear of the cloudship, just above the microspark reactors. After circling them, I discovered they had only one accessible entrance. This entrance was, of course, guarded, with a pegasus standing sentinel. He went on the alert as I approached, detecting the faint creaking of the cloudship’s decking beneath my hooves, but failed to determine the origin of the noise before I reached him. Casting ERSaTS to speed myself up, I drew the stun baton from his holster and used it to incapacitate him. In doing so, I’d needed to drop my invisibility spell; I had nowhere to stash the guard’s body, so the time for absolute stealth was over, anyway.
Convinced the guard would not be waking up again soon, I turned to the terminal next to the door. As I slid back the cover over the keyboard, I was shocked to discover that the interface was made entirely of clouds, which rippled slightly as the fluffy mass adjusted itself. I’d never seen anything like this before, and when I tried to reach out with magic and press the insubstantial keys, nothing happened. Neither did anything happen when I tried to tap the keys with my hoof, which slid right through them. However, my artificial griffin claws did connect, the prosthetic apparently having been enchanted to allow the griffin it was meant for to interact with clouds as they normally would. It was a laborious process to hack with only one arm and no help from my PipBeak (which couldn’t be attached to the terminal anywhere). Eventually I managed it and the door unlocked, allowing me to push it inward.
President Snowmane’s chambers were dark, as expected at this time of night, but rather than turn on the lights and immediately expose my presence, I navigated using the flashlight on my PipBeak dialed down to the lowest brightness. The room was mostly empty on the left half, a sparse few chairs pushed against the wall the only things worth noting. The right half of the room, in contrast, was packed. A stack of maneframes were lined up against the wall, though they appeared mostly to be deactivated or disconnected. A few cables did snake over or around them to the bulky machinery in front of them that stretched almost the length of the room and emitted hisses, whirrs, and clicks that broke the silence. Most of the machinery appeared industrial in nature, left as raw metal or painted a dull gray or black, but near the center of it was suspended a long glass tube, bordered on the nearer end by a control panel. The tube’s bottom was lined with padding to support the pony that lay prone upon it.
As I shone my flashlight upon the cylinder, the light diffused through it and made it seem to glow, illuminating President Snowmane. The pegasus’s body was severely thin and desiccated, easily visible past his formerly white coat and mane which had become frail and nearly translucent. His wings were tucked tightly against his body, the flesh pulled tight around the roots of the feathers that remained attached, and I had trouble believing he could ever fly again. His groin and mouth were both encased in equipment to provide nutrients and remove waste, and cables and hoses snaked into various parts of his body. His eyes were squeezed shut and his chest rose and fell slowly as puffs of gas swirled around him in the chamber. He looked terrible, but overall not bad for a pony who had lived since before the megaspells had fallen.
I pulled the unconscious guard into the room before switching on the lights, which did nothing to awaken either him or New Pegasus’s president. Much like with the terminal outside, many of the controls on President Snowmane’s life support chamber were made of clouds, so I had to use my griffin arm exclusively to interact with them. I managed to do what I thought should awaken him and hoped I hadn’t just killed him before trotting over to look at his reclining body. Lights came on in the glass cylinder, the humming of the equipment changed, and the pegasus’s chest began to rise and fall more rapidly. After a minute of waiting, his red-rimmed eyes opened and fixed on me.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” the voice I’d heard many times on the radio sounded from speakers on the life support equipment.
“Mister President,” I said, trying to speak as respectfully and quickly as I could to prevent him from calling for help before I’d said my piece. “I have something very important and time-sensitive to ask you.”
“Who are you?” President Snowmane asked, a frown creasing his already heavily creased features.
“My name is Doc,” I introduced myself when I realized he wasn’t going to let me leave the question unanswered. “I’m a traveler from Equestria, and I’ve gotten tangled up in your conflict with the Consortium.”
“Yes, I was told about you,” President Snowmane said, a spark of recognition appearing in his eyes. “You were taken by the Consortium but returned.”
“The Dashite Enclave is in the process of bombing their way into the Consortium—”
“Yes, the Executive Panel informed me of their plans,” Snowmane interrupted me. “A shame it had to come to this, but when your survival is at stake, drastic actions must sometimes be taken.”
“Did they also tell you that there’s been a coup in the Consortium placing the syntheqs in charge and that they want to negotiate peace?” I asked, my words tumbling out before he could interrupt me again.
“No, they did not share that information with me,” President Snowmane said after a pause. “How new is this development?”
“I brought it to them today—well, yesterday now—before the bombing began. They wanted unconditional surrender, but the syntheqs desire to remain independent, so they went ahead with the bombing anyway,” I explained, feeling a little freer to lay things out now that Snowmane didn’t seem inclined to sound an alarm on me.
“Well, that changes things, doesn’t it. We came to the Commonwealth not to subjugate, but to cooperate. One moment,” Snowmane said, and I watched several lights on his life support and a connected maneframe come to life. “Attention, all forces of the Dashite Enclave. This is President Snowmane speaking. Stand down all attacks on the Consortium immediately. Cease bombing and withdraw to a safe distance. You are to fly flags of truce and allow any unarmed synthetic equines to approach for the purposes of negotiating an end to the conflict. Repeat, stand down immediately. This is President Snowmane.”
The lights again changed as President Snowmane silently acted, probably via the various cables plugged into his skull.
“I want live broadcast on New Pegasus Radio and all military channels in thirty seconds,” he said before the lights winked out and his eyes shifted toward me. “There will be an investigation into how you were able to gain access to my chambers, but thank you for bringing this to me, Doc. You may have ended an unnecessary war tonight and exposed several vulnerabilities. Again, thank you.”
***
Fortunately, the assault on the Consortium hadn’t yet reached the facility itself by the time President Snowmane’s orders had gone out. In confusion, the Dashite Enclave forces had stood down as ordered, and the president’s follow-up address had convinced the pondroids not to seek violent redress for the attack. Rael and I were questioned about our actions, but not harshly, and neither of us were imprisoned again. Though some members of the Executive Panel were bitter that we had stopped them and exposed them to President Snowmane, generally there seemed to be an understanding that a continued war with the Consortium would be disastrous. A delegation of pondroids, including 1-6, met in New Pegasus to agree to a peace in which both organizations could exist alongside each other without direct confrontation. The Consortium under its new leadership intended to begin releasing some of their innovations into the Iron Valley to rebuild civilization; it was likely that there would soon be Consortium-aligned settlements alongside the New Pegasus- and Commonwealth-aligned ones. Competition would be inevitable, but it was agreed that the two entities would respect each other’s territory; only time would tell if that would last. For the moment, the war was ended in the Iron Valley, the pondroids were in charge of their own destinies, and I couldn’t have asked for a better outcome.
[Max Level Reached]
New Quest: Homecoming Tour – Return to Pleasure Coast.
Illusion Magic +6 (41)
Manipulation Magic +2 (49)
Melee Weapons +1 (107)
Science +3 (121)
Sneak +2 (116)
Speech +4 (123)
Survival +3 (91)