Velar feared he might be kept underground until the conflict had ended—maybe the entire thing would be over and he would only discover the victor after the fact.
Apparently his cooperating with Starlight Glimmer was starting to pay off, because instead of shut into a cell, he was led through the caverns.
It was beauty like he’d never quite seen in Accipio. Caves that had grown spectacular formations of crystal and gemstone, with walkways elevated above the floor and lit with strings of electric lights concealed below them. The path had the look of a tourist attraction about it, with placards set into the wall to identify particularly interesting formations, and railing along the side to stop visitors from damaging the cave.
Except that instead of tourists, the ponies he saw down here were soldiers. Some looked like the veterans who had brought him, with old polish on their uniforms and dents on their weapons. Most looked like recruits. They scattered from before their group as they passed through, watching Velar himself with open hostility.
But Starlight led the way, and she fixed anyone who slowed them down with a glare so acidic that none of the soldiers stopped them.
“What is this place?” he dared to ask, when they’d been walking for at least five minutes and still the maze made no sign of stopping.
“Somewhere an enemy once used against us,” Starlight Glimmer said. “Caves go through the whole mountain, almost. There’s discussion about whether Canterlot is really built on a mountain at all, or else if maybe we’re walking through the ruins of incredibly ancient cities, all stacked on top of each other. Maybe Celestia builds her capital in the same place each time, covering each one up with rock before building again.”
Then she stopped, ears flattening. “What does any of that matter? The world might be ending over our heads. In a few months maybe Celestia will cover up Canterlot and it will be time to start all over again.” She hesitated, listening to another explosion.
They sounded like twenty pound guns, but Velar couldn’t hear the impacts. His ears must be lying to him—it sounded like the guns were firing at something solid and glassy, and it wasn’t breaking. Like they’d decided to attack a glacier.
“Where are we going?”
She hesitated another second. But it wasn’t like she’d been very good at keeping secrets today. “To the flagship. Celestia hopes that putting you on it will make them less willing to shoot it. Maybe force them to talk.”
Velar actually laughed. “Might be more effective to paint bright red targets and signal your flight pattern if you don’t want you ship shot down. Unity desert me if those aren’t Vengeance ships. Last time I did anything for a bird in Vengeance, he shot me in the back. I’m sure these birds would take special pleasure in killing me, if they could. Vengeance might’ve sent assassins, except Santiago probably thought I was as good as dead. Just like everyone else…”
Starlight looked away from him. “You can tell Princess Luna that if you like. She’ll be commanding the Stalwart Stratus. But you probably won’t convince her. I hope you’re wrong, since I’ll be with you.”
“I’m not,” Velar said. “How good are the Stalwart Stratus’s defenses?”
She didn’t answer. Probably she couldn’t—Starlight Glimmer wasn’t a pony of war, and that information was probably secret besides. Velar walked in silence until they made it to a mechanical lift, then settled down as they started to ascend.
And if he hadn’t been silent already, the shipyard certainly would’ve done the trick.
The cavern was massive—easily larger than the Impervious Triumph, though not by much. Ribs of steel and support walkways ran along its edges. Technicians of every kind wandered around down there, so small from this distance that he could barely see their outlines.
The elevator shaft was open so they could look right in at the ship docked there—a creation of shining metal barely half the size this drydock could’ve contained. What are the ponies thinking with all their small ships? But he didn’t ask them that, only stared in fascination.
“I suppose if I asked you how many places like this there were, you couldn’t tell me,” Velar said.
Starlight looked up, but didn’t open her mouth before one of their escorts laughed from behind him, loudly. “Starlight doesn’t know,” one of them said.
“I don’t know,” she agreed, obviously not meaning it.
They came to a stop along an upper walkway. There was a flurry of activity out here—ponies rushing around pushing wooden crates onto or off the massive ship. Most of the ponies already on board wore the blue and white of Equestrian Navy uniforms. A dozen at least were armored marines.
Velar's old strategic mind switched on involuntarily, and he started looking for vulnerabilities. His trip up the elevator had shown him thirty guns on this side, presumably the same number on the other. He could find no air intakes, no obvious location for the fuel or powder magazine. All that metal would make these ships a damn nuisance to take down.
Princess Luna stood at the edge of the docks, apparently waiting for them.
There were ancient stories about war with Equestria—more than he could remember. Though many of them had obviously been corrupted by time, a few details remained salient. The Alicorns were always creatures of terrible beauty in battle, taller and mightier than the strongest griffon. Only a warrior in Voidsteel had any hope of besting them. Though some of those stories told of brave champions and previous Alicorns now slain, there was no way to verify they were true.
Now Velar could see why. Princess Luna seemed to radiate solid darkness from around her. Clouds rolled from near her hooves, and the electric lights were tinged with moonlight. Her mane shone through her helmet in a curtain of stars.
He’d seen the Equestrian princesses before, during the initial rounds of negotiation and then again when they visited New Scythia. They had seemed mightier than regular ponies, but in a mundane sort of way. Just a taller version of what he’d seen hundreds of times. Now he could see that they’d fooled him.
Velar swallowed once. He was beginning to wonder if the attackers outside stood any kind of a chance. “I guess this is our stop.”
On the other side of the world, Gina could see New Scythia had come alive. Even at a great distance, the corpses of the old ships in the desert were swarming with birds. But what are they preparing for? Those ships don’t have weapons anymore.
Whatever else the Equestrians might think of their betrayal, Gina had inspected those vessels only a month ago, when she had tracked down and captured a crew of scavengers stripping some of their valuables. There was no supply of secret cannons to re-arm them with. What would they do, ram the Equestrian Navy?
Maybe the old one. But the ship they stood on now would not be beaten so easily. Through methods Gina couldn’t even guess at, the ponies had found a way to make their ships from metal that was light enough to fly. She scratched at the railing with one claw when she thought that no pony was watching, but it wasn’t so weak that she could just break it away at a touch.
Now probably isn’t the best time to ask them what supernatural material they’re using. Whatever it was probably made for an imposing sight on the horizon of New Scythia. And if Gina wasn’t there, it might only serve to reinforce everything that Gideon had testified.
But Gina was there. They had already been stopped several times by patrols—little ships, with crews carrying old-fashioned crossbows. Gina presented her seal, and told them that she had to reach the emperor as quickly as possible. These were Virtue birds—a few even recognized her.
And even if they hadn’t, what were the unarmed patrols going to do to a mighty warship like the Heart's Shadow. Even if they did have cannons, they might’ve bounced right off that impenetrable metal armor.
Assuming it was as strong as the steel plates sometimes attached to the side of the best airships.
Not my job to worry about. All of this is about to be out of my claws.
Despite its name, New Scythia looked like a primitive imitation of the city it had replaced. Nothing they could claw out of this desolate wilderness could compare to the masterpiece of engineering and capital housing centuries of wealth.
But she could make out the palace even from a great height. So that was where they stopped—not quite right overhead, in case the birds below feared they had come to bomb them. But close enough that the flight would be direct.
She would’ve flown right down, and wanted to. But her sprained wing was now wrapped tightly in a sling. The Equestrian doctors had assured her she would heal normally, so long as she didn’t fly for the next two weeks. So the ponies were prepping a longboat.
“I’m coming with you,” said the captain, nodding towards a few of her marines. “Them too. I’m prepared for emergency negotiations on the part of Equestria—at least until somepony with more authority arrives.”
Gina grumbled vague displeasure—but she wasn’t really in any place to say no. They had done everything she’d hoped for and more. Whether the emperor considered the price she had paid worth what she could give remained to be seen.
He wasn’t going to like the news, that much was certain. But if he actually went to war against Equestria…
“I guess you are,” Gina said, glancing up at the longboat. She couldn’t exactly see what pushed the thing—it didn’t have sails, or a gas motor like griffon ships used. More of their strange crystal-magic then.
They boarded, and Gina directed them to the palace. As they descended on the city, dozens of Imperial Guards joined them—an impressive achievement considering the weight of that steel armor. They’d somehow flown all the way up here, crossbows and all.
They touched down on the palace steps, which were positively swarming with soldiers. They all pointed weapons at the ships, barking various threats and insults in their direction. Gina rose first, whispering for everyone else to stay down.
Even Captain Caliginous obeyed her this time.
Gina held up the medallion. “I’m here to deliver a message to Emperor Gaius. I must reach him immediately. Because of the nature of my message, I’ve brought an Equestrian in authority for immediate negotiations.”
There was silence for a long time. Eventually Anthony emerged from the soldiers, wearing bright purple over his robes and carrying something Gina hadn’t seen in some time—a rifle. She recognized the design—that had come from the Griffonstone factory.
“Gina,” he said, staying high up on the steps. “I thought you were dead.”
“Gideon wanted me dead,” she responded, smiling ruefully. “But he had some difficulty with that.” She took another step forward. None of the birds shot her. “Please, let us pass. Or let me, anyway. And treat these guests with respect. I would not be here without Captain Caliginous’s hospitality.”
Anthony considered for a few more moments, glancing from Gina to the pony longboat, then up into the air. “That’s quite the escort you brought,” he said.
“I would’ve preferred to come on the Lapwing,” Gina responded. “Except that Gideon blew it up. It was what we could find.”
From behind her, Captain Caliginous actually laughed, very quietly. Thank Unity we didn’t bring her second too. Lieutenant Silver Moon would’ve said something stupid.
Anthony nodded, reluctantly. “Very well. The emperor is with his war council. I guess this isn’t an invasion if the captain came down with two marines.”
The column adjusted. Birds opened a path, and Gina glanced over her shoulder. She gestured, and the ponies finally rose. They left the longboat right where it was, resting gently on the palace steps.
Then they went inside, with the future of two nations following them.