Late Wednesday morning had the port looking very different as the battalion began preparing for the city’s evacuation and the massive undertaking of shipping out their significant portion of Equestria’s food supply.
It amazed Zip how quickly things were happening. The meeting the night before had his head spinning, so much was said.
They knew the Centauri Navy would land in and around Port: the topography, dense temperate rainforest, mountains, and treacherous, rocky shorelines acted as a funnel, making it the only suitable landing site.
Most ponies bound for Canterlot with wagons, carts, or other space to spare were conscripted for the use of their transportation. They were to transport the foodstuffs and material goods they were able to carry and turn them over in Canterlot. Over the next week, they would begin heading southeast, wagon-train style, towards Canterlot. Military personnel would travel along with them, keeping order, preventing theft, and providing protection.
The importance of the task was not lost on the civilians, having been educated that morning. They’d be able to move quite a bit, and the military wasn’t going to waste the horsepower.
Until the division began to arrive, likely over the weekend or Monday, the objective of the battalion, sent and communicated by Canterlot, was to stage foodstuffs and goods in the rail yard. Beginning Sunday, so the plan went, locomotives with a full complement of cargo cars would arrive three times a day, to be loaded and sent back to Canterlot. Pooling all the resources they possibly could, it was the fastest they’d manage such a logistical undertaking. But with the division showing up to move things along, they’d be able to load the cargo as fast as fresh locomotives arrived.
They would move material as long as the port stood. Once the Centauri Navy began attacking, it would be a short defense. Then the division would burn and abandon the city, moving towards the Galloping Gorge. Once the Centauri Army made its way inland, the division would stay ahead of them, slowing them down as much as possible by any means available.
The air force would keep them supplied as they moved south and harass the Centauri forces from the sky. With continual resupplies, they’d have virtually endless explosives, artillery, and food to keep them in the fight on the ground… which was more than the centaurs had, with only the sea behind them and what they could carry.
Airships were a blessing, but they could only do so much against centaur magic, disallowing them to ride over the Centauri Army, bombing them back to the Paleopony Period. Like unicorns, sending bolts of energy into the sky was easy enough. Once the Equestrian Air Force joined the retreating division, able to readily supply the division on the ground, the Centauri Army would be slowed to a crawl… if things went as planned.
It was a long way to Canterlot; they’d make the most of every mile in halting the advance. If all went well, it would take a couple months to make it to Canterlot. There, they’d stage their defense and hopefully beat the Centauri forces, hopefully crippled, starving, and considerably lower in numbers.
Nopony was crazy about the idea; they’d be fighting as winter came upon them… but at least they were moving south.
It didn’t sound like the best plan, but Equestria was very unprepared for such an occurrence. It was about all they could do.
Zip, before his charge, read their platoon's orders, “Okay, everypony… 1st Squad, go with Sgt. Petals, and take an accounting of the dry goods in Warehouse #2; that’s the first one we’re to empty. Pay close attention to the work order. 4th Squad… you’re with me. Cpt. Weaver’s assigned us to help prepare the rail yard. Go.”
At the yard, it was rather pleasant working outside, despite the dreadfulness spurring on their labor; it hadn’t rained in a couple days, which was most welcome, and it had grown unseasonably warm, the winds unusually coming out of the south.
As Zip led 4th Squad to the rail yard, he further reflected on things. What still beggared his imagination the most was Cpt. Basket Weaver’s calm demeanor since the state-of-emergency began; it was as if the captain was simply trying to beat some minor deadline, as unruffled as he’d been.
Captain Basket Weaver’s logistical experience, trumping Cpt. Jalapeño Jelly’s being inches away from the rank of major, allowing his receiving charge of the city was surprising enough when it happened; it was even more difficult to believe he could handle the situation better than an experienced combat commander.
Captain Jalapeño Jelly, to those able to identify it, was freaking out; he was sure they were in for their doom. The plan, especially the part about sticking around and moving freight until the Centauri Army began to literally march through the charred remains of Port, had him going to pieces.
“Do you really think this plan you all came up with will work?” Spc. Trip Wire’s voice pulled Zip from his mulling; it trembled some. “It just seems… crazy.”
Zip knew Trip didn’t hero-worship him; she was too smart for that nonsense, “It’s okay to be scared, Trip. Remember I told you we never get used to this kind of stuff. I’m nervous, too. But we have a feasible plan. We do what we must. We have time to prepare, at least.”
The little mare chuckled to herself, “I guess it’s not surprising. I’ve never asked you if facing that dragon was scary… I knew it was a stupid question. It’d be weird not to be scared.”
Looking straight ahead, Zip mused, “I was terrified, but I didn’t realize how much until after the fact. I didn’t really have much time to think until it was over, it happened so quickly… It’s sure different… realizing the trouble we know is coming is a few weeks away. It’s worse… It feels much worse… but we have time. And we need it.”
“So just don’t think about it much… and concentrate on the moment…” she continued paddling along.
“Exactly, Trip. Do what you can, and leave the heavy thinking to somepony else. Hopefully they’re up for it… Totally off topic, but you don’t swear all that much anymore. What happened?”
Entering the rail yard, Trip smirked, “SSgt. Petals told me to watch my ‘filthy, fucking mouth’ one evening during mares’ night out.”
“She said that?!”
Later that evening, around 20:00, some of Zip’s platoon got a break, with the military police largely keeping an eye on the docks. As much as he wanted a nap, he had to figure out how to do the work battalion assigned them while making sure his platoon could maybe get six or seven hours of sleep a day. Deciding to go to his office, he could quickly come up with something and take a nap later.
He knew to expect a certain sergeant for a chat, but not until another time.
“Amethyst… I know there’re things we could discuss, but it can’t wait? We have time, so get a bit of sleep; you look exhausted.”
He knew for a fact she’d only slept seven hours in the last 48; it was about the same for him.
She shook her head, sitting across from him, “No… it’ll only take a minute.”
Zip noticed her inability to keep a straight line; she was just tired, not impaired.
Amethyst settled in, “The crew of that little schooner… what a tragedy that was…”
Zip nodded, not raising his eyes, “I’m guessing those crates with ‘dry goods’ and the ‘potable water’ weren’t what they seemed.”
“Of course not… I know we both knew that. Besides the metal powder they didn’t do the best job of cleaning up, I can smell uncovered thermite from a mile away. Explosives and napalm… to think that was lying around next to the food and hairbrushes and whatever the Hell else is in the warehouse. It’s normal for the army to hide that stuff in plain sight, believe me… Pisses me off…”
Corresponding with the glow of Amethyst’s horn, one of Zip’s desk drawers was rattling at his leg.
“Oh!” Zip backed up.
The whiskey bottle he’d stowed there weeks earlier levitated to Amethyst.
“Oh, my sweet, caramelly corn juice,” she popped the cork and took a dram.
“Not too much, Amethyst… we’re on alert,” Zip chided.
She took another nip and set it corked on his desk, “I know…”
Zip looked up from his work, “So, the crew of the schooner was going to try and blow up a few ships? And they wound up doing it to themselves?”
“Mmhmm…” Amethyst produced some cookies she’d hooked from somewhere, hoofing a few Zip’s way. “A few dozen, more like; they could sink an armada with what they took. If I tell you I’m supposed to kill you or something, but I once took part in such an operation. We took thermite in drybags and swam under a pirate fleet that was setting up for an assault on Baltimare… We infiltrated the ships and sank them in shark infested waters… 30 dinghies in one night. As the tune goes, ‘thermite burns through anything’. The civilians didn’t even know there was supposed to be an attack the next day.”
“Pirates? Sharks?” Zip looked at her oddly, munching on a cookie.
“Oh, yes. Pirates certainly still exist... And sharks, they’re not too hard to scare off when you have a lethally magical horn,” she said drolly.
Zip couldn’t help it; exhausted himself, he chuckled at their morbid conversation, “Oh, if my mother could see me now…”
Amethyst laughed as well, tired enough that most anything was humorous, “Yeah… I miss my mother, but I’m kinda glad she never saw what I turned into. It was always hard enough facing anypony I cared about… being what I am…”
Amethyst really was zonked to be talking as she was; it brought out the terminal cynicism she’d cultivated in her long career of insurgency. It wasn’t something Zip enjoyed seeing, but it appeared occasionally.
“Amethyst, please go get some rest. You’re not yourself.”
At this, she gave a throaty cackle, “Lieutenant… it’s all I am… just some miserable nag that misses her youth… envious of the youth of a little staff sergeant…”
The tears in the corners of her eyes were threatening to escape.
Zip leaned forward, “Amethyst… you-”
“I’m so sorry, sir… I… know I’ve caused some trouble between you and Jacinta. Telling her what she did the night of the ball… I’m so very sorry.”
“Amethyst!” Zip said sharply. “This isn’t the time. I want you to get some rest. Stand up.”
He got up from his own desk and shepherded her towards his squad leaders’ corner. Sitting her down on the sofa they kept, he got her there just in time; she’d gotten rather dizzy. Practically forcing her to lie down, he tucked a blanket around her. He even fluffed her pillow, which somepony else had used to nap earlier.
Unable to look him in the eye, she rolled to face the back of the couch, “I’m so sorry, Lieutenant…”
Zip knelt beside the sofa; this time he spoke more softly, “Amythyst… it’s alright. I know you’re sorry, and it’s alright. But please don’t think about it right this moment. Rest. I’m giving you the rest of the day off. We’re okay without you until around 07:00; somepony will make sure you’re awake. None of us are at our best, so it’s more important than ever to take care of ourselves… not just each other. Rest easy. You’ve worked hard.”
Amethyst glanced to the rear, “Rest easy? Is that an order, sir?”
He could see the hint of a smile gracing the corner of her mouth; he indulged her, “It is, Sergeant. Rest.”
She giggled in the girlish manner he’d first seen the day he met her; she took on a telling smile, her eyes heavy, “You know, sir… you remind me of a little brother.”
He was a little surprised, but amused; she’d never mentioned a brother, if she even had one, “Is that so?”
Amethyst breathed, “I love you, Lieutenant…”
Zip’s whole body experienced an unpleasant shock of heat the whole way through, having heard that. He backed up, ears ringing.
He had nothing to say in response. It turned out he wouldn’t have to anyway; she was asleep.
Stumped on what to do, Zip continued to back up until he reached the front door. He paused, taking a few seconds to take the whiskey along with him. Looking once more at Amethyst, he exited. Figuring he could finish the work/sleep arrangements later, he slunk off to his own quarters. He hoped a few hours of sleep would perk him up… and keep him from thinking about what he’d just heard.
Amethyst ached like crazy when she woke up; she was beginning to feel her age, and sleeping on the sofa was never the best sleep. Her face was stuck to her pillow, and she was disgusted to find she’d been drooling some. She vaguely remembered the lieutenant forcing a rest period on her Other than aching, she felt pretty good. Stretching, she sat up; the clock on the wall read 05:50. She did remember the lieutenant promised somepony would get her around 07:00, so maybe she’d have time to find some chow.
Groggily wiping her face and standing up, she failed to notice somepony had snuck in at some point.
“Did you sleep well, Amethyst?”
The sergeant yipped and jumped; getting startled was very unlike her, given her usual mindfulness. She took a calming breath. She hated being surprised.
Jacinta looked to her from behind her desk, “Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to surprise you.”
Amethyst’s throat was dry; she mumbled forgiveness towards her friend and drew a glass of water.
Having wet her whistle, she turned back to Jacinta, “So, what’s up, Sarge?”
“Oh, just trying to come up with a schedule…” Jacinta looked down to her papers. “Cpt. Weaver sprung a little job on the lieutenant when he was trying to sneak to his quarters for a nap. He was dead on his hooves when he was done, so I took this from him to finish up. He’s sleeping right now… in his quarters. I’ll see he’s awake for breakfast… He sent me here to wake you up a little later.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
Jacinta exhaled, “A little… but I managed a few hours earlier.
The little mare, pencil in mouth, continued writing. Amethyst flopped down on the sofa again, no longer thirsty but not very hungry either. She knew it wasn’t the best time…
But, “Jacinta… I’m… sorry for the other night.”
Jacinta dropped the pencil, not expecting to hear that “first thing in the morning”; she continued to stare at her work a few seconds, “That… really hurt, you know.”
Amethyst could see a hint of wetness in the corner of Jacinta’s eye; she sighed, “I know… It… I was cruel, lashing out like that. I don’t know why I did it. I wish I could explain it… but it’s hard.”
“Oh, Amethyst, I-”
Amethyst held up a hoof for silence, which Jacinta accepted. The sergeant took a moment to think.
“I was angry… tired… jealous… frustrated… I… I don’t know what to say, really,” Amethyst lamented.
“…”
“…”
Silence reigned in the little corner of the building; it was just the two of them there. About all that could be heard was the ticking of the clock on the wall.
Jacinta dithered after a time, “After our… argument, I ran outside to get some air… to get away. He found me crying on some bench nearby, and he offered to buy me a hot cocoa. I didn’t want to go, knowing what I knew, and he practically dragged me to the sweets shop. It was… pretty embarrassing.”
“…”
“I was a little overwhelmed, thinking about what you told me… I couldn’t think of anything else to do, so I let him know I learned about what I did to him… I told him I thought you might have a… well, a thing for him.”
Amethyst retreated further into the softness of the sofa, her muzzle between her hooves as she loafed, eying Jacinta, “You did, did you…? I suppose you can’t help it; you’re so earnest all the time.”
Jacinta felt a little more hurt at the tone, “I’m sorry, Amethyst. I wasn’t really thinking.”
“Oh… It’s alright… Sorry for being nasty… Anyway, I’m sure he’s thought about that… I sure don’t treat him in a way for him to think much otherwise… But… what did you do?” Amethyst forced herself to say.
“I… told him I liked him… right about the time the state-of-emergency began; the sirens actually stopped us from talking further about it,” Jacinta blushed a little at that.
Amethyst glowered a little, snuggling up into the sofa; she looked quite young, sitting there, wrapped up with her pillow, “So you still haven’t talked about it?”
Jacinta considered her friend; she looked terribly out of sorts. It was unusual to see her so bent out of shape.
“Amethyst… please tell me… Do you… ‘have a thing’ for him?” Jacinta asked with more than a little trepidation.
The older mare took on an air of annoyance, “You can’t even say the word, can you?”
Jacinta recoiled at that, blushing some, “…”
But Amethyst let it go; that was hardly the issue at hoof. She took a moment to answer; it wasn’t that she didn’t have one on ice, but it took her time to articulate it. Looking at her friend, young and anxious, a mare that was born when she was still a leggy teenager… Her good friend—perhaps her best… she wanted to give a proper answer.
Reaching down deep, she pushed her own jumbled feelings aside, but she at once shared them. Sitting up just a little and giving Jacinta a childlike beam, she relished what came out of her mouth.
“Jacinta… if I was your age… if I was you… I’d quit the army, clock him over the head, and drag him so very far away from here. I’d screw his brains out and never ever let him go…” Amethyst glowed, cheeks flushing.
The answer floored Jacinta, who looked at her hooves thoughtfully with an indulgent little smile; she snickered hesitantly, “Wow…”
Amethyst dimmed, a painful, self-deprecating smirk working at the corners of her mouth, “But really, Jacinta… I’m old enough to be his mother. I’ve done a lot in my life… a lot I’m loath to remember. If there’s such a place as Heaven, I’m not entirely sure I’m welcome there, in the end. I’ve no right to any more favors in life… or much happiness, either. That’s gone.”
Jacinta decided to listen rather than react; regardless, there wasn’t much she could say. Her friend’s downheartedness wasn’t easy to deal with.
Looking melancholy, Amethyst went on, “No, that youthful mare is long gone, Jacinta. Meeting a stallion like him back when I was still just that stupid, little filly… what that could’ve been… I never would’ve met that lazy cocksucker Green Tea… or had that… piece of shit Lead Brick beating me black and blue every other night, either… I wouldn’t have run out on Green Tea when he demanded we try for another foal… and Lead wouldn’t have left me when I somehow wound up sterile anyway.
“But I wouldn’t have gotten lucky the third time, either, with Rhubarb Leaf. I’d never have had Rho—I may have never even had the chance to be a mother… I’d sure probably not be in the army, for better or worse. And of course, I’d have never met you… or the lieutenant… or Trip… or anypony else. I’ve had my chances at happiness, Jacinta, plenty of them, and I even found a little, here and there. But that’s in the past.”
Jacinta rested her muzzle behind her crossed hooves on the desk, “That’s so sad…”
Amethyst waved a hoof, “Oh, don’t concern yourself over me so much. I guess being a little unlucky in life and love’s just left me a bitter, old maid. But like I said, I’ve had some good times. There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be right now than with all of you. That may sound strange, but I’ve rather enjoyed myself up here.”
Jacinta pondered; she had little to say in response to Amethyst, “I guess I should worry about me a little then… I’m still not sure what to do, though.”
Amethyst leaned back, staring towards the ceiling, “I wish I could give you good advice on the matter, but getting involved with a military stallion… it’s hard. I married two of them; first was a dud and the second was great, considering how much time he spent at sea... and that I lost him there. Given my luck in love, you’d be better off asking somepony like Cpt. Rig about it.”
Jacinta stifled a guffaw, “Oh, please don’t compare yourself to him; you know better. Have you ever heard how he likes his hoofjobs?”
The belle wrapped her hooves around the pillow, giggling, “He only did that, like once; maybe he thinks it doesn’t count if there’s something separating him from the filly.”
Jacinta grumbled, “I just don’t think he cares… I feel awful for his wife, though… him coming home looking like that…”
“Don’t concern yourself with those two; neither of them is exactly faithful…”
“…”
“…”
The little Earth pony leaned back in her chair, “Well, shit…! That was a nasty tangent to go off on… Just ick…”
Amethyst shook with mirth, hugging the pillow.
“I guess I’ll just think about things… and talk with the lieutenant later,” Jacinta reasoned.
Amethyst laughed, “And that’s just what you should do. Are you done with your paperwork?”
“Done enough…” Jacinta hoofed aside the documents absentmindedly.
Despite not being all that hungry, Amethyst said, “Kitchen’s open. Let’s go get some breakfast.”
Eager to do something other than think about her impending chat with her direct superior, Jacinta sprung up from her chair, “That sounds great… I’m starving.”
Zip felt pretty good despite his acute lack of sleep; he’d only managed two hours when Jacinta relieved him of the small responsibility he’d been set on finishing in his muddled mind.
They’d finished preparing the train yard for the operation beginning that weekend and had made a respectable dent in the first load to go out. It was pleasant out and dry to boot. They had tarps ready for the seemingly inevitable rain they should’ve been dealing with, but there was no sign of any precipitation.
Zip felt confident his platoon would be okay. Jacinta, much better than him at organizing just about anything, had come up with a good plan. Everypony would theoretically get about seven hours of sleep and a couple hours for breaks and food. It was about the best they could do.
Zip himself was looking forward to evening chow because immediately after, he’d be able to go to bed. He’d covered a little afternoon detail for Sgt. Treasure Trove, who’d been absolutely dead on his hooves, so the sergeant could get a nap in a pile of burlap. In exchange, Zip would have about 11 hours to do whatever he wanted.
The kitchen was now putting out food five times in a 24-hour period, so no matter what shift, everypony would have chow a few times. Normally taking food in his office, Zip surprised the half of his platoon that was awake by joining them in the mess. The company and the food were pretty good that day, Zip felt. They almost forgot death was kicking at the door.
Zip still went to his office; there was a small detail he’d just feel better getting out of the way. He had to come up with a plan for his platoon once the division arrived. He’d run them through a few days of refreshers. Many of them had only done combat, medical, and other training when they were in basic. Considering they would be in a combat situation, he wanted every team to have a designated medic… among other things.
The pencil tasted like dirt; Zip often wished there was an easier way for somepony without magic to write.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Zip looked up, speaking around the instrument, “It’s open.”
He didn’t feel like dealing with another of Amethyst’s lamentations, but they’d cried on each other’s shoulders plenty of times already. Anyway, she was his friend. He tried to clear his mind of negative thoughts as the door creaked open.
“Good evening, Lieutenant.”
It was Jacinta.
“Ah, Jacinta!” he hadn’t seen much of her that day. “Thanks again for the schedule; you’re a real lifesaver…”
But she was in no mood for small talk. Zip never locked his door when he was in his office; Jacinta turned around and did it though.
Normally, a mare coming in and locking his door (which had never happened before) would freak him out, but he knew Jacinta better than that. She wanted to talk about some things that had to be touched upon.
Zip leaned back in his chair with a little sigh, “I’m sorry; that’s not what you’re here to hear. I can’t imagine you’d have written the schedule to make sure we’d be able to meet.”
Jacinta knew he meant nothing by it, “Of course not, sir. I’d never purposefully put my needs before everypony else’s. Your covering for Sgt. Trove enabled this.”
Zip smiled, “I know, Jacinta. And I’m glad you’re here. I admit I’ve been trying to keep my mind on the... bigger situation… Haven’t been able to think much about anything else.”
She couldn’t and wouldn’t blame him; he was doing his job, “I’ve been trying to do the same. But now... we have a little time. I won’t take up much of it, so could we please talk?”
“Of course.”
She sat down across from him; she had more than one thing to talk about. He drew her a glass of water and one for himself.
“Amethyst once said you had one of her whiskey bottles stashed away… Do you?”
Zip smiled and pulled the bottle out of his drawer; he poured her a nice sipping portion in a fresh glass and slid it across to her, “Just a little…”
“Thank you, sir,” she took a dram, wincing at the taste. “Oh, yuck…! But I’m out of gin, and the shopkeepers are getting ready to F.O. You’d think they’d be making a killing, selling their wares in high demand, but they’re just leaving. It’s an awful lot to carry…”
He sat, trying to relax as he sipped his water. Jacinta took another dram of whiskey; it was a little easier that time.
Considering her, he could tell she wasn’t quite ready to discuss the brunt of her reason for being there. And he knew she had more than one or two things on her mind.
“You’re still worried about Amethyst, aren’t you, Jacinta?”
Jacinta investigated her little glass; she sighed and nodded.
“I wish there was something I could say to give you some solace with her, but-”
She didn’t mean to interrupt, but he needn’t say it, “We talked this morning… when we were in the office… I think things are fine between us.”
“That’s good to hear…” Zip was genuinely glad. “I can’t have my most trusted mares at each other’s throats.”
Jacinta was unamused, “Please don’t make light of it, sir. It’s not funny.”
Zip knew it wasn’t; he was simply at something of a loss, “I know… and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even tried to joke about it.”
There was little point in holding back; Jacinta looked straight at him, “She loves you, Lieutenant…”
Zip saw no reason to avoid it any longer, but the whole truth wasn’t necessary, “I know she does… But we all know that it…”
“It’s not gonna happen,” Jacinta finished for him. “She doesn’t want it.”
“…”
“…”
“But what do you want, Jacinta?” Zip asked evenly.
After a few seconds, she smirked, “I want the Centauri Navy to sink… down to the last ship.”
Zip did a take, and soon mirrored her goofy expression; both laughed pretty hard. They felt a little better, lightening the mood.
Jacinta took another hit off her glass, “I don’t know what I want, sir. I’m confused. For once, I’m less concerned with the rules, but… is it something to even consider?”
Zip wished he had an answer for her, “I don’t know… What a time for it to come up, though.”
“I don’t think anypony can predict when much of anything happens, Lieutenant.”
He nodded, “Agreed.”
“Considering we could all be dead in a couple weeks, I hate to put anything off, but we have other things to worry about,” she giggled a little at her morbid jibe.
Zip smirked back, “Don’t prescribe to cynicism, Jacinta; it doesn’t become you. But you’re right. I don’t know what I want, either, but now’s just not the time.”
She sighed, not even upset, “You’re right, sir. But there’s one thing I’d like to say.”
Zip wasn’t sure what it might be, casting aside other matters, “What?”
She finished her whiskey, knowing what she was about to say was as corny as pig shit, “Whatever happens, sir, I want you to know you’re my best friend.”
He was quite surprised at that; it was quite a statement, but he shared the feeling, “And you’re mine, Jacinta… A lieutenant and his platoon sergeant… but we’ve already pointed out the weirdness of that.”
Coming back immediately, “I don’t think there’s any weirdness to it at all, sir. It just is.”
“…”
“…”
Zip stood up, “I know I was planning to go right to my quarters for a good sleep, but let’s go get a snack. What do you say?”
She stood up as well, “Sure. Let’s just not make it too big a thing. I have to get up a little earlier than you tomorrow.”
So, Zip and Jacinta strode off to relax and enjoy the other’s company for a while.
Relying on each other and their platoon, they were confident things would probably turn out okay.
The first locomotive showed up late Sunday morning, just as planned. Loading was a breeze. The week had been about as productive as possible, and everypony was in decent spirits, given what was brewing.
That afternoon, Zip yawned as he trotted past the locomotive loading docks; he was on his way to company headquarters to gather his 2nd Squad for a little work in the warehouses.
But Zip had a few minutes, so he stopped to visit the nearby latrine; before entering, he noticed the locomotive crew already preparing to leave. Zip felt good, knowing the first of many locomotives was on its way to Canterlot… Things had really come together. He set about relieving himself.
He heard quarreling… two stallions. He cracked the door to see.
Captain Basket Weaver was arguing with the locomotive’s engineer. Zip watched and listened out of sight in his little place; this was strange…
The engineer waved a hoofful of documents in Cpt. Basket Weaver’s face, “I have to pass these out to my crew, but this is wrong! This accounting you gave me upon coming here details for the moving of implements of concern to Equestrian Logistics! Not foodstuffs! I was even told that before coming here! What’s going on?!”
“That’s what that list said, but you picked up this list. The first load-out was changed,” the captain hoofed over a stack of papers.
Looking over the new papers, the engineer’s jaw dropped.
“Captain! You… falsified the orders?!” the engineer all but screamed.
“And I have been all week… Same with communications in and out. You’re the first and only pony besides me to see the real documents from Canterlot. Maybe if you’d done your job, you’d have seen things weren’t on the up-and-up. Still, it kept you quiet until the loading was done, didn’t it?” Cpt. Basket Weaver nonchalantly answered.
Zip’s stomach did a flip-flop; this was a staggering piece of news.
The captain snatched the original documents and incinerated them with a glow of his horn.
“You’re cracked!” cried the engineer.
“Look behind you,” the captain pointed to the locomotive’s cargo. “You’re taking that to Canterlot. There’s enough food and actual material goods to feed and preserve the city of Canterlot until summer. We can make more machines… but we can’t just make food. This is the cargo your locomotive will be taking towards our capitol city.”
“This is an outrage! I’m going to-!”
The captain magically choked him, getting his full attention, “You’re going to take that stack of papers, and give them to your crew. You’re going to forget about this, chug up your choo-choo, and fuck off to Canterlot with this cargo. And you’re going to come back the moment you’ve unloaded for more… until we absolutely can’t do it anymore.”
Allowed some air, the engineer shouted, “You won’t get away with-!”
Taking on a murderous look, Cpt. Basket Weaver pulled him in, “You’re going to do what I tell you… or I’ll blow your fucking head off, here and now. You’re in the clear; you checked this list… It’s all there. Now take those orders, and you distribute them. Then leave.”
The engineer looked as if he’d soiled himself, “You’re insane, Captain! They’ll hang you for this!”
He shrugged, “Probably. They’re arriving tomorrow… could be fun. Another locomotive’s due late tonight; we need to stage for it. With one coming in every eight hours, we should be able to do a fine job emptying the city. So, fire up your engine… And I guess I’ll hand these out myself to save you time.”
Magicking the stack of documents from the engineer, the captain calmly walked down the line to meet the soldiers guarding the cargo.
Zip was in disbelief at what he’d heard and seen. This was… possibly treason. Hell, it was treason!
But the engineer fired up the locomotive, and the captain rejoined him after a few moments.
“Captain… This is batshit crazy… You really have lost your mind, haven’t you? You’re gonna die, and they’ll just ship out the equipment another day. Why?! I don’t see what you’re thinking!”
Shaking his head, Cpt. Basket Weaver chuckled, “Then don’t think about it. Forget seeing me, and F.O. to Canterlot. Have a safe trip. Eyes forward. Go.”
Looking alarmed, the engineer shifted his mechanisms, and the train began to inch away.
The captain stood there, watching the train until all the cars had begun to disappear. He heaved a visible and audible sigh.
“Lieutenant! I can sense you back there! Come on out.”
Zip might have dropped another turd in his surprise; he exited the latrine.
The captain pondered, seeing Zip’s uneasiness, “It’s strange… a latrine saved your life once, and now it’s made you an accomplice to treason!”
Zip felt his guts churn; he just about puked. What he'd just learned was almost as jarring as this more feral side of the captain.
“I’m kidding, son,” Cpt. Basket Weaver stated. “You saw nothing. You heard nothing. Understood?”
Zip wavered; something compelled him to nod.
“Still, you see what our commanders’ priorities are… They hate to lose this equipment, considering we just brought it out here to replace a bunch of shaky deathtraps we should never have had to deal with in the first place. From a soldier’s standpoint, I can understand… But as a pony, I condemn such thinking.
“Zip…”
The lieutenant perked up; Cpt. Basket Weaver had never called him by his given name.
“Zip, have you ever gone hungry? I mean hungry…”
He shook his head, “No, Captain… we never had much, but we always had good food. We worked for a produce merchant; he wasn’t the best pony, but he saw us well-fed.”
The captain nodded, “My earliest memory is of starving, Zip. We had a failing farm down near the Badlands… For a few years, we had a drought… a drought that covered some stretch of land. We had so very little to eat. It was so widespread, there was truly no helping us. I watched my little sister, a filly 3-years-old, starve to death. I watched my parents do the same. I’ve been alone in this world since I was 5-years-old… no wife… no foals…
“Every naval vessel on the western side of Equestria is trying to hold back the Centauri Navy. No vessel, civilian or otherwise, will be taking any more cargo out of the city. Even if we loaded down every walking pony, every wagon, every cart, and every locomotive, we’d still probably be unable to get out more than 80% of the food we currently hold. If we can advance a few things, we might bump that up to 85%.
“Moving those machines… the time it'd take... that number cuts down to about 55%. And they just don't acknowledge that fact. Whatever we can’t move will be consumed in fire; the Centauri Army won’t get a grain of rice if we can stop it happening. The military would see the northern continent suffer—starve and die—just to pad the coffers a little.
“Ponies would starve, Zip, thousands and thousands… Some still will, and there’s not a thing on Earth we can do about it; that’s the way of the world. But this way… most might never even know hunger. There may be some rationing this year, but that’s a Heaven-sent blessing compared to collapse, I guaran-damn-tee you that. You understand why I’m doing this?”
There was no need for the question, “How can I help you, Captain?”
“Forget what you saw and heard. Forget me; I’m as good as dead. And promise me something.”
Zip felt an uneasy pride surge through him, “Anything, sir.”
“Do everything in your power to see this port emptied out. You’ll be asked to do many things, but please, do that which you know to be right. And if you’re forced to choose between what they tell you and what’s right… I hope you can find the strength to do what you know to be best… for everypony.”
Zip managed to eke out, “Yessir…”
“I think you’ll manage okay… What is it they say about Port, Zip?”
There were a lot of things, but, “It’s a dumping ground for the army’s problems…”
The captain barked a short laugh, “Yes… and to a large degree that’s true. We had a few gems here and there, but that’s what this place is. But your platoon, Zip… there’s no reason to play dumb, anymore. You have some extraordinary ponies under you. I’m sure you’ve figured it out, but Port’s not just a place to send difficulties to fade away…
“Ponies like Sgt. Wire… Sgt. Flare… Pvt. Rise—I got no idea what’s with him… even that cadaver nut Pvt. Oil… they were problems… but they were too valuable to discard. They send the best here, too… in case they need them later. That’s just what wound up happening with your 3rd Platoon. You’re fortunate, really… I can’t think of a better bunch to command when Hell breaks loose… or a better pony to lead them. Trust them… Love them… Protect them… Do everything you possibly can to see them through this.”
Zip couldn’t help himself; he choked up a little, “I’ll try, sir.”
The captain considered him, “I know you will, Zip. There’s one more official order I must give you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s the same as before. Forget you saw, heard, know about this. Under no circumstances are you to defend—or explain—my actions to command. Condemn me, if given the opportunity! If our troops were to learn of the army’s priorities… I feel they would lose faith. They mustn’t lose faith! They mustn’t lose hope! These are the things that will give strength to our success.
“If the time comes that things are truly lost... use your judgement on the matter… You’ll know when that is; I trust you’ll know. I have one more thing to do: you will go about your business and act every bit as ignorant as everypony else. Go now.”
Zip got the message; he began to trot.
“One last thing, 1st Lt. Zip Jetscream!”
Zip halted a moment.
“I’m… glad you know… of all ponies.”
Zip was unsure what a pony like Cpt. Basket Weaver saw in him; he’d never thought he made a great impression. Really, he’d barely known him… just another young officer not even in his immediate company. Looking painfully one last time at the captain, Zip trotted away to company headquarters.
The captain sighed shakily, sitting down heavily on a crate; he could see the docks from his seat. Waiting for a time, he elected to enjoy himself a few minutes that unseasonably pleasant autumn afternoon. It was... quite a feeling he felt... the ocean... their port... his ponies... the uncertain future. It brought tears.
But soon, he’d had his fill and went about his task. He wouldn't deny he was also a little terrified... considering what he'd cemented himself to doing, but now was no time to overthink things. He pulled a small crystal ball from his pocket, and he tapped on it.
“Yes, Captain?” came the little voice of somepony with military police.
“Just ‘making the rounds’ before evening chow, soldier. Please report: is the port clear? Nopony on or near any of the docks?”
“Not a soul, sir… We just came in from a patrol for a quick cup of coffee; all of us are taking a few minutes in the gatehouse. I was about to send half my complement to get fed.”
That was good enough for Cpt. Basket Weaver; he dropped the ball, and it shattered on the ground. Laughing a little to himself for the monumentally drastic thing he was about to do, he further solidified his resolve and set his horn aglow.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOBOOM! BOOM! BOOMBOOM!
“What the fuck?!” a thousand voices rang out.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The entire city shook; a few windows broke, and a lot of dishes did the same.
Inky, black smoke rose from the port area, specifically the docks. Even south of the city, a couple plumes of smoke could be seen. There were… 36 columns; they could be counted from anywhere in the city.
The 36 docks, with all their machines and implements, had been blown to smithereens.
Trying to remain true to his word, Zip was helping Sgt. Sweet Clover’s squad at Warehouse #1. They were close enough to see the explosions.
Zip knew at once, in his brains, heart, guts, and balls what had just happened. And true to his word, he pretended to be just as surprised as everypony else.
Captain Basket Weaver surrendered himself to the military police about 10 minutes after finishing the task he’d set out to do.
But before that, he spoke to the city through the public announcement system, explaining just what he’d done… but not why. His last orders were to keep moving… keep loading…
Zip realized what the captain had been up to the night before, when he disappeared after their battalion meeting… and what had happened to some explosives he thought had been moved to another warehouse. The detonation couldn’t have gone any better: all the equipment was totally destroyed. All it was good for was scrap metal, which they didn’t even need.
There was little point in even inspecting the docks. They wouldn’t be using them, and nothing was intact, so it just gave them more time to work on gathering goods. A little shaken, it seemed odd to just continue with emptying the city.
But what else were they to do? They had another train coming in a couple hours and had to be ready. Thanks to Cpt. Basket Weaver’s falsified documents, they’d already amassed enough foodstuffs to fill two locomotives and their cars. And since they had no implements to move anymore, which they’d never even started on, they just kept up with the goods.
The ponies filled the next locomotive overnight. Another would be there in the late morning, so they prepared for that as well, moving like clockwork.
“You traitorous bastard!”
Captain Basket Weaver was bucked across the big room in battalion headquarters. Different Port officers were taking turns laying into him as the newly arrived brigade and division commanders looked on. It was the morning after the destruction of the docks. Zip was there too, trying to blend in with the wall.
Captain Jalapeño Jelly took special pleasure in clobbering the pony whose job and title he’d so coveted; he’d had control for about 16 hours, though, after the arrest and before the division arrived.
“Take that!” he slugged Captain Basket Weaver in the ribs and was satisfied to feel a few of them break; the force had lifted him from the floor.
The former acting battalion commander gasped as he cried out in pain. He was jostled amongst several officers, each laying a merciless beating.
Zip had trouble watching this, but he chose to honor the captain’s last orders… to play stupid. So, it was most difficult when the captain was propelled towards him.
Catching a small glance from the captain's swollen, bloodied eyes, Zip knew what he had to do; he barely hesitated.
“You motherfucker! You could’ve killed somepony! You traitor!” Zip wound up and clocked the captain in the head with near-decapatory force; it knocked him unconscious, and he sprawled into the wall, leaving a trail of blood as his face slid down it.
A few others laughed at this; one said, “Damn, Lt. 'Scream! You coulda left a little more for us…”
Another cackled, “Good shot, though! Look! He finally shit himself!”
Zip snorted, hating himself more than he’d imagined possible, “I didn’t think that would put him out… I guess he’d had all he could take… Let’s just hope he doesn’t snooze through his own death!”
This elicited quite a bit of laughter from all present; there were no mares there... no noncoms… just stallion officers. And Zip would’ve been ashamed for any of his platoon to have seen that. But nopony else laid a hoof on Cpt. Basket Weaver.
Captain Basket Weaver was dragged off and detained again; there were a few things to do before they could call a court martial. But they’d be sure to hold it that afternoon.
Zip found himself wishing he’d hit the captain hard enough to kill him; he didn’t deserve to die on the end of a rope. Such thinking was remarkably painful to him… for things to go that far. Zip came close to crying as he made his way back to company headquarters, but he managed to hold it back. He didn’t want anypony to worry about him getting soft or falling apart... or why he was a sobbing mess; too much was at stake.
He rebuffed all questions about what had happened with Cpt. Basket Weaver. He had to remind himself his platoon was shaken up and unsure about the events of the last day; they were ignorant, and he prayed they remain so. The hurt in their eyes was still more than he could take seeing.
All the ponies under Cpt. Basket Weaver’s command were stunned; they believed he'd “cracked” and betrayed them all. It seemed a miracle nopony was injured in the explosions. Zip did his best to ignore all he heard, turning off his brain to all but what he was doing.
But working alongside his platoon, Zip did a little praying that morning that the captain, who was willing to die so Equestria wouldn’t suffer any more than it already would, would meet a quick end. The price for what he’d done was indeed hanging. Zip prayed the fall would break his neck, and they wouldn’t have to watch him choke for 10 or 15 minutes. His self-loathing only increased with this thinking, but it was the greatest mercy possible.
Zip hadn’t expected to be part of the court martial, but it didn’t shock him, considering he was an officer in Port. He was called into battalion headquarters at 13:00.
Zip tried to quell this stomach. They’d hold the court… and Cpt. Basket Weaver would swing at 16:30… just in time for everypony to see it before evening chow. Swallowing vomit, Zip forced himself along.
But there was to be no court. Cpt. Basket Weaver lay on a cart in the hallway. He was dead; an orderly pulled a sheet over his body.
A colonel Zip didn’t know pounded him on the back, with a nasty grin, “Looks like you popped him pretty good, Lieutenant… Brain bleed, by the look of it. Died while he was unconscious… Kinda unfortunate your joke came true.”
Zip watched the captain’s body wheeled out. The fact the captain was dead wasn’t a big deal, really. They knew what he’d done. They’d just tell the troops he died of injuries sustained when he resisted them, but Zip’s glorious “brain-buster” would go unrecognized except by those who’d witnessed it.
It took Zip a lot of resolve to keep his mouth shut. Cpt. Basket Weaver hadn’t even raised a hoof or lit his horn to defend himself, even as his ribs were being broken; all he’d done was cry out in his agony.
Evening chow tasted like ashes to Zip; he took it in his office as he had to figure out a few things his platoon would be doing that night. He wanted very much to close his door and cry for a while, but he refused to do so; he had to stay in control.
Over the last few hours, they’d learned just what the captain had done.
He’d stolen enough explosives to destroy the equipment twice over; it may have been salvageable otherwise. Sneaking out to every dock, every lift, and every crane, he’d wired it all to go off with a little spell he’d cooked up. It was simple, effective, and totally undetected until the city started rattling.
Already, the captain had received a most sordid moniker for his actions and supposed mindset: Basket “Case” Weaver…
Zip was devastated at all of this, the captain dying the way he did, but he’d certainly succeeded in his plan.
It was unexpected to hear a gentle tap on his door around 19:00.
“It’s open,” he croaked.
Amethyst walked in, her face a mask of anguish, quickly shutting the door behind her and locking it. She drew a glass of water for herself and one for Zip; she sat down and offered him his glass with shaky hooves.
He took it and had a sip, “Thanks, Amethyst…”
She sat morosely across from him. Zip realized in his heart why she’d come; he’d not imagined she’d do such a thing, with or without his go-ahead. Their conversation wouldn’t be an easy one, but Zip would feel better when it was over.
“I… never expected you to put your hoof in… Was it painless for him?” he heard himself ask.
Amethyst exhaled unsteadily; she had a hard time making eye contact, downing her water.
“I did what I could… I got him when he was still out. It was quick, at least… It’s how I did my old job… Shift a few blood vessels in the brain… Pop! And you never wake up,” she stifled a sob.
“Amethyst… I… uh,” Zip looked to her eyes, and he saw them pouring.
“Lieutenant… I prayed I’d never do that to another pony again… and I know you would never’ve asked such a thing of me, but… I felt your pain… I know why he did what he did; it wasn’t difficult to figure out… and I wasn’t going to stand there and watch him die at the gallows. I couldn’t bear it… It was the only thing I could think to do for him.”
Zip extended his front legs across the desk and took her hooves, choking up, “I know, Amethyst… and I’m so sorry.”
She pulled his hooves closer to herself and began to weep. Zip leaned in and joined her for a time, forehead to forehead, letting out all he’d been holding back the last day. Their tears fell upon a stack of work orders… the captain’s desperate forgeries, done in hopes of preserving the land he loved.
Perhaps only a hoofful of ponies would ever learn of Cpt. Basket Weaver’s sacrifice, but thanks to him, many little ponies would probably never know true hunger.
With the entire division now in Vanhoover, work had become easy. Ponies emptied the stores and foodstuffs and material goods went southeast by locomotive, and by cart, wagon, and horseback.
As they continued emptying the stores and evacuating the civilians, they abandoned parts of the city they finished with. Block by block, the city became a ghost town, starting with the west side.
Skilled unicorns were assigned to sink the wreckage of the docks and their implements in the shallows off the beaches; it wouldn’t do much to stop the Centauri Navy landing, but any hindrance was better than nothing.
Equestria’s navy was losing ground… or water. They harassed the superior forces of the Centauri Navy, retreating as they did so. Their losses had been minimal, but that could change with the wind…
The weather was of curious notice to those who recognized what it was doing. It hadn’t rained since the state-of-emergency was declared. The deciduous vegetation, having long since lost leaves, was rapidly drying out. The evergreens were beginning to wilt; the unseasonable warmth had initiated abnormal activity in them, resulting in some desiccation.
The winds off the sea had been rather weak that year, only compounding the lack of moisture inland. The winds from the south continued to keep the pocket of warm air over northwestern Equestria.
But the ponies in Port just went about their work, saving and moving all they could. At the pace they were able to move, if the navy could hold as long as estimated, it was feasible to now see 90% of the goods in Port transferred out. And that wasn’t bad, given everything.
With about as much optimism as might be merited, they labored on. Keeping busy assuaged their fears, some. Things were actually looking up, for what it was worth.