Crimson picked his way through the rubble that covered the streets of the once-proud Atlantean capital. Nautinia had survived the three-month siege he’d so quickly helped to end, but just barely. Not a single building stood on the waterfront, and even though the damage was less extensive farther from shore, it was still painfully ruined. Entire livelihoods had been destroyed in an instant. The bay was choked with sunken Dominion ships, their masts poking out of the water during the low tide. Both Fort Azure and Fort Lazuli has suffered horribly, their stone towers and outer walls all but destroyed. Assisting vessels from Haven Cove were due to arrive that afternoon, but they would need to move the waterlogged ships before they could enter the harbor under the watchful eyes of the two broken but still formidable citadels.
Behind Crimson, Platinum, Mirage, Southern Lights, and Janelane followed, amazed at the amount of hits the city had taken. The Second Coastal, now led by the newly promoted Colonel Treetop, had spread out in this section of Nautinia to find any survivors. So far, they hadn’t found squat.
The teenage filly Phoenix Brightwings, the regiment’s unofficial mascot, had been left at the palace, not willing to let them leave Pacifica without her. They’d reluctantly caved in to her pleas after a couple hours, and were glad to have her in probably the safest place in Atlantis right now. Queen Atlanta had literally taken Phoenix under her wing and immediately sent relief supplies, along with other valuable rebuilding resources, to Pacifica after hearing her story.
Crimson eyed the harbor to the south as an unfamiliar shape took form in the clouds above. Accompanying it was a low rumble comparable to distant thunder in volume. As he watched, it circled around for a couple minutes and landed in the open sea beyond. It landed!
A courier hurried to Treetop, who’d watched the flying object from behind Crimson. “Colonel! A message from the Queen!” he breathed.
“Alright, let’s see it.” The courier gave a paper to Treetop. The Colonel then unfolded and read. “Mm-hmm. I see.” He looked at the courier. “Thank you. Send acknowledgement, and inform her that we’ll be there as soon as we can.”
“Yes, sir!” The courier dashed off, his Earth pony legs taking him towards the palace.
“What did she say, sir?” Janelane asked.
“The message says that Miss Brightwings is still slowly recovering from her ordeal, and that she’s asked to join our regiment. Obviously, she’s too young,” Treetop said amidst a few chuckles, “but she will be joining our ranks in three years, when she actually is old enough, if she’s still committed by then. I don’t doubt her will, though. You guys certainly made an impression on her. Also, that thing that just flew in is one of the Summercrest Project’s flying machines. It’s friendly. Finally, we’ve been assigned to swap with the current defenses at Summercrest, and Miss Brightwings apparently gets to come with us.” Everypony began cheering. “That’s right, we’re going out of the front for six months. If you lived there before joining up, you can sleep in your old house. That’s all.”
As one, the remaining nine hundred ponies and six hundred Changelings of the Second Coastal Regiment happily chorused, “That’s enough!”
-----------------------
Atlanta watched from her outer palace walls as the cheerful Second Coastal crowded the train station half a mile to the west. She saw the distinctive bright orange coat of the filly Phoenix, next to a dark red Pegasus and his circle of friends. From what Phoenix had told her, the Pegasus was Warrant Dawn; the silver Unicorn, Private Starlight; the shimmering-aurora Unicorn was Private Lights; and finally, the Changeling was Mirage. How could she not see the holey body with green hair? They were chatting excitedly, most of them ecstatic about going home.
Colonel - now General - Silvercrest stepped up beside her, sighing at the sight. “It’s good to see them finally go back. Most of the guys left came from Summercrest.”
“That’s why I made the order. Your former regiment has been in the thickest, most brutal fighting in this war so far. They deserve a break. All of us do,” Atlanta replied. She straightened. “I apparently need to make a public appearance in about five minutes regarding the destruction the Doms turned Nautinia into. How do I look?”
Silvercrest briefly looked over her ruler’s dirty blue coat and messy green mane and tail. The alicorn’s turquoise eyes had tired, heavy bags under them, and her orange sunsteel armor barely glinted through the dust, grime, and scratches covering it. “Like a battle-weary soldier, my Queen,” she said. “But I would put some eyeshadow on if I were you. Unless, of course, you plan on looking extremely tired and stressed.”
“I hate eyeshadow. I’ll be fine, General, but thank you for your opinion.” Atlanta’s shoulders slumped. “After this, I’m going to need a shower, sleep, and a hot meal. Supporting four thousand refugees in my palace has kept me from such luxuries these last few days. Now that the crisis is mostly over, I can relax a little.”
“I’d say you deserve it, my Queen. If you don’t, you may conk out right when we need you most,” Silvercrest said. “I’ll keep an eye out for trouble while you do.”
“Again, thank you.” Atlanta made her way down the stone stairs and out to the open palace gates, where her appearance was to be made.
---------------------------
The screech of sliding wheels screamed out into the early-morning stillness. Just above the shiny metal circles, thick black coal smoke billowed up from the engine’s funnel, blocking the crescent moon’s light.. Behind them, the train slowed to a halt, its passenger coaches lining up with the station platform. Hundreds of excited ponies leaned out the windows, breathing the fresh air and taking in the scenery around them. The whistle blew a long, hollow, somber note, heralding those who’d returned and mourning those who never would.
For some reason, the Summercrest Station was eerily silent then. The soldiers had expected a warm welcome, complete with banners, beer, and cake. They were now unnerved by the lack of activity. Even the engine’s light had been turned off when the station came in sight, as if they weren’t supposed to see what was coming. Crimson peered out the window to his compartment, trying to comprehend the fact that they may have been forgotten.
Without warning, all the lights came on. A large hoof-crafted banner that read “WELCOME HOME” unfurled itself on the station wall, directly across the platform, and a loud cheer rose up from the ponies who’d been standing absolutely still for the past hour. The crowd had subconsciously split into groups that were usually families, but it made them easily recognizable. Far in the distance, but still clearly seen, Indianapolis fired blank rounds into the harbor, celebratory green, red, and blue fire blossoming from her guns. Fireworks launched from positions all around town, lighting the sky with their explosive beauty.
“Say what you want about Atlantean hospitality,” Platinum said in an aside to Mirage, “but we definitely know how to throw a good party.”
“I’d been referring to the standard AREA equipment when I said that. It is pretty basic,” the Changeling Princess replied. “But, yeah, I agree. Damn.”
Crimson was already climbing out the window and waved for somepony to help him out. Southern Lights playfully pushed, and the red Pegasus fell through the gap and nearly faceplanted on the stone platform. His immediate spreading of his wings saved him from injury, and he proceeded to get his stuff, which was being moved through the window. Afterwards. He helped Phoenix Brightwings come through, then jokingly abandoned the group in favor of tackling his sister.
Crystal Shard had arrived with Ember the day before with the news of their arrival. That message had given Summercrest enough time to prepare this surprising homecoming that had already given some of the battle-hardened ponies tears. She yelped in surprise as Crimson snagged his hooves around her neck and she went tumbling.
Crimson and Crystal’s mother and father, Shooting Star and Physics Psych, respectively, smiled. Shooting Star cried tears of relief when she saw that not only her son truly was alive, but he hadn’t forgotten his family. “Crimson…” She couldn’t even finish her sentence, so close she was to simply sobbing grateful tears.
“Mom!” Crimson got up and embraced his mother, then his father. “Dad!” The smile on his face was a reunion joy, watery droplets of his own joining the small pool his mother had started. He closed his eyes, absorbing the moment in all its glory.
Around them, similar reunions occurred. Platinum joined his older brother in a playful sibling head-bashing. Sergeant Oreo “Cookie” Cream hugged his finacé, then met her muzzle with his own. Southern Lights, after exiting the train, walked right into his parents. Janelane met her foster family with a cheerful grin. Mirage mostly stayed on the sidelines, but then noticed that her friends’ families were right next to each other. She hopped in, posing with the group for a reunion photo, with the filly Phoenix smiling wider than the Celestial Sea right in front.
Nopony paid much attention to the approximately three hundred Changelings that bounded off the train. They proceeded to hop around, unload their stuff, and generally have a good time.
“Mom, Dad, this is Mirage,” Crimson introduced the Princess next to him. “She’s the Princess of the Emberforge Valley Changeling Hive. This is Janelane, a great addition to our team. Southern Lights, though we still miss his other half. And finally,” he said, picking up the filly with his wing, “we have Phoenix Brightwings. She’s stuck to us like glue since Second Pacifica.”
“Son, we’re just glad to see you. And for the next six months! I don’t know what told the Queen to send you here, but she certainly did a kind thing. For all of us here,” Physics Psych said, gesturing to the tearful reunions around them. “Even if some of you will never come back, we still cherish everyone.”
Crimson waved towards home. “How about we clear the platform and let others get off the train?”
--------------------------
A robed, hooded figure watched the proceedings from a nearby hilltop, covered in the darkness of the night. He saw weary soldiers, relieved to have a break from the terrible war they fought. The crimson red Pegasus and his group were of particular interest. They were tight-nit and had handled everything thrown at them so far.
He crept backwards down the hill to his tent, unseen in the “swamp oak” forest that surrounded Summercrest. His… companion, he often thought of her, glanced up as he approached, her blue face backlit by the small campfire. She was reading her set of orders on a piece of rough parchment, eyeing the last section with confusion.
“What’s this?” Her soft voice, small and quiet, just barely carried to his ears.
“I have one on my sheet, too. It’s a magical timer, ticking to real time,” he replied. “Set to six years from now.”
“Why?”
He read the parchment himself, something his ruler wouldn’t be too fond of. “A grand plan. Not even Atlanta will be able to resist surrender after we destroy her precious army at the one place she will never expect: the Aquarius River Fork.”