Throughout history, the causes of war have varied wildly. Naked unabashed ambition, realpolitik behind a mask of righteousness, tragedies of misunderstanding, and rarely even genuine heroism have all their days. It has never been recorded, however, that a war began over a rude and ill considered letter to the editor. Especially not one read in the kitchen of a literal castle of friendship. A lack of coffee, however, has much more of a presence in those annals than you would hope.
Tempest, nee Fizzlepop Berrytwist, seized her newspaper in her chaotic aura with a growl and twisted it into a mass of separated fibers and ink dust. Idiot press, she thought, as it drifted down to the table. Where did they think they got off? Bad Mouthing the Princesses, bad mouthing the guard, bad mouthing my hard work…
"Um, Tempest? What was that?" Spikes voice from the stove made her start. Ah, right, she thought, the Princess. The one slumped on the other side of the kitchen table, coffee cup floating in her aura, with a nest of a bed mane. The one staring at me with wide and bloodshot eyes. The one who isn't used to my temper and is solely responsible for my parole. That princess.
"Heh...sorry." Tempest abashedly prodded the mass of former paper with her hoof. A mote of residual mana chose that moment to discharge, the spark instantly catching in the fiber and going up like a sawdust fire.
"Gah!" Tempest glanced around desperately for something to put it out with. There! She leapt up, and expertly struck the coffee cup to send it hurling through the air. The splash of scalding liquid extinguished most of it with a hiss, while the cup itself neatly landed upside down in the center of the flames, smothering the rest. Tempest looked hopefully at Twilight. Twilight was still staring. So was Spike. There was a moment of silence, punctuated by the clatter of the saucer as it came to rest and the drip of coffee from the table. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked.
Tempest had just enough time to contemplate that she had just kicked away the coffee from a decaffeinated Twilight, and the various forms her doom might take, when Twilight simply slammed her head into the table with a groan. "SPIKE! Protocol 32 B!" She yelled, apparently to the ground, and then vanished with a flash.
Mortification was not an emotion that came naturally to Tempest, but somehow she was managing it. Oh Harmony, she thought. I've really done it this time. At least I've discovered a new form of field-expedient firestarter. Which I'll be needing when she banishes me. Spike, meanwhile, had hopped off his cooking stool and was already assiduously cleaning the table.
"So," she said after a moment, mostly to break the awkward silence, "Protocol 32 B?"
"Oh yeah." Spiked looked up from his cleaning for a moment. "Haven't had one of those in awhile. Starlight has been spending more time in the Crystal Empire lately, making plans for Twilight's big school and all."
That explained less than nothing to Tempest. "So...what does it mean then?"
"Well..." Spike hedged. "It kinda means 'I've given up on this morning as hopeless, I'm going back to bed and trying again'." He stopped at her appalled look. "Don't worry though! It could have been much worse, 32 C is when it gets really serious."
Mortification was giving way to morbid fascination. "So...these protocols. They just keep escalating?"
"Oh yeah. Protocol 32 goes up to a hypothetical class F. So you're fine. Really. And besides, she's WAY too tired for time travel. She'll be back down in half an hour and we'll have another go at this."
Time travel, thought Tempest. He's joking. Probably. All my intel said that, without using the Map of Harmony to reweave destiny, time travel resulted in closed loops. Heck, that was the biggest reason I sent troops to Ponyville in the first place. And Twilight wouldn't do that over a breakfast gone wrong.
Right?
"Heh, it's strange to see someone even more into planning than me." She said aloud. Spike looked up at her curiously. "I was a general you know."
"Yeah, kinda hard to forget." Spike frowned. "Hey, I know it's rude to dig at the reformed villain's past and all that. I've learned something hanging out with Starlight. But what was with the whole 'destroying the bad news' evil overlord routine there?"
Tempest sighed. "Yeah, that was a bit much wasn't it? I'm sorry. It was just a stupid editorial but it hit close to home."
"You mean all those jerks writing in against leniency, and how Celestia and Twilight were being hopelessly naive? I thought Twilight warned you about those."
"No, those make sense. When they say that this is more than I deserve, they're not wrong." She raised a hoof before Spike could interrupt. "I remember what Twilight said, that forgiveness isn't about whether you deserve it. And she's probably right." Even if it's hard to remember on the bad days, she didn't say aloud. "No, this was more fools braying about the stupidity and uselessness of the Royal Guard. About helpless Princesses and Discord betraying us, and on and on and on. They make it sound like I just flew right into Canterlot on a whim and took over."
"You didn't?"
"Oh please” she scoffed. “I worked hard to make it look that easy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not proud of what I did. But it’s more than a bit insulting that all my effort is being put down to luck and the guard being useless. And they really do know their stuff. Do you have any idea how many kinds of dead I'd be if I'd tried that? And that was if Discord didn't get to me first."
Spike scratched his crest. "I don't know. It was always Twilight and Shining who were into the guard stuff. And I was pretty little then anyway. I did always like playing general with them though." He puffed his chest out. "She always made me her Number One Aide-de-Camp. Or had me stomp the book fort when Shining wasn't looking."
Now there was an adorable image, Tempest thought. Tiny Twilight, Terror of Equestria. She smiled a bit, despite the topic. Much better use of a childhood than I made of it. Actually... "You know, maybe we should try that again some time."
"Well, I don't think with book forts. Twilight has gotten much more particular over the years..." Tempest shook her head.
"No, not like kids games. Actual war games with the guard, to assess readiness and strategy. I'm not saying there weren't problems, or I wouldn't have been able to do what I did. But real serious drills, to find the problems and work out solutions before" someone like me "anyone takes advantage of them. And it would let the public see we're serious about this."
"Huh, too bad we can't get a Danger Room."
Tempest blinked. "A what?"
"A danger room. You know, like the Power Pony comics?” Tempest shook her head. “Oh it was awesome. When Luna returned they had an issue where she made them a whole dream world to practice fighting their enemies. And they practiced against each other too, in case one of them turned evil. Of course, after the Tantabus they had it go crazy and try to...why are you grinning like that?"
Twenty minutes later, when Twilight came down the stairs again to see Tempest standing at attention and Spike holding a sheath of claw-scribbled notes for her, she seriously considered going back to bed for a second time. She could tell it was going to be one of those days.