//------------------------------// // Day Two, Afternoon: Nothing is Invincible // Story: The Golden Age of Apocalypse, Book II: Synchronicity // by Shinzakura //------------------------------// Sitting in her apartment in Canterlot, a griffoness sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes as she read the rejection letter again. It wasn’t fair! She’d been the best in her class and had worked hard to graduate from an academic institution that her kind wasn’t even normally allowed to attend! She’d earned every plaudit and praise she’d gone for, and she was a citizen of Equestria in full standing! Why, then, was she being treated like this? She needed to talk to the Countess. She would help – she always did. But the smile on the griffoness’ beak, however, slowly melted away as she realized, while the Countess was always willing to help her…she wasn’t able to stop this. Somepony had it out for her, and clearly ruining her chances with the job of a lifetime was only the first step. Setting down her teacup, the griffoness made ready to go to the Countess’ office, when her window shattered. She looked to see several nasty-looking griffins climb through the window, armed to the teeth and leering at her. “Eh, wot y’ think yer a pony now, luvvy?” one of them, with a scarred beak, mangy feathers and an eyepatch said to her. “Time’s fer y’ t’ go back t’ whats yer belongin’ to, roight?” Given the letter, she didn’t think screaming would help. So instead, she cast a defensive magic spell; she wasn’t really good at offensive magic, but this would buy her time to escape and search for help. Instantly, dozens of light copies of the griffoness appeared, momentarily confusing her attackers, giving her enough time to launch herself out the window they’d broken and fly for her life. When she was a chick, she’d been the fastest flyer in her hometown, long before her wings had become ungainly and her tail useless for flight. Now, she was pushing herself as fast as she could, hoping she could run into somepony – anypony! – that could help her. If she didn’t…the results would be worse than the unthinkable. “Whiskey, will you walk beside me?” Octavia asked. “It would be impertinent to do so, milady,” the vixen replied as she walked a respectable six steps behind her. At the moment, despite the peace of a typical Canterlot midday, she had a paw on her sword as if ready for battle. Though she still wore her yukata, she’d taken the time to remove both the Inari imperial crest and that of her former family’s, giving the garment a mottled appearance, which would unfortunately have to do until she could obtain new clothing bearing the house colors of Princess Sunset’s clan. Walking next to her, Amabile Heart, the Hoof assigned to them stated, “If I may, Lady Octavia, let her adjust. She seems like she’s been traumatized by what’s happened to her since yesterday. Give her time to adjust to our way of life and I’m sure everything will be fine.” “I understand, but I feel kind of self-conscious about it,” Octavia defended. Amabile nodded. “That’s understandable. Anypony would.” The trio continued on in silence, pausing occasionally to peer into a storefront or two, doing typical window shopping. Finally, Whiskey spoke: “Lady Octavia, I have a question, if I may be permitted.” Octavia turned her head away from an interesting window display – apparently to ponies, socks seemed to be an intimate item – to look at Whiskey. “Go ahead.” “Is it not presumptuous of your pony retainer to think that she may be allowed to stride aside you? Such impertinence would not be allowed by my former masters, and it would bring great shame upon you and Her Highness Princess Sunset.” Octavia looked at the kitsune. “We humans treat everyone equally, even those that work for us,” the teen responded. A second later, she admitted, “Well, we would if we could – we’re the only ones on our world, so we don’t have the experience that ponies do here. But from what I can tell, ponies treat everyone the same and we humans act along the same lines.” “I can’t see that,” Whiskey admitted. “All I know is that if I serve you and Her Highness faithfully, then I will be granted my third tail. Then perhaps Her Highness will give me a small plot of land and a retainer of my own, if I am found so worthy.” “It doesn’t work that way,” Octavia told her. She then walked over and to the shock of the vixen, took her paws in her own hands. “What my aunt said earlier is true: we value hard work and equality back home, and hopefully you’ll get to see that in action when we go back.” “I don’t understand,” Whiskey said sadly. Octavia was going to continue, but then saw the slight shake of Amabile’s head and decided it was best to leave it alone for now. The trio continued on for a few more blocks, until Octavia stopped in front of a music store called TIERFENBUCKER’S. Based on the viola and the cello sitting in the display window, she could see that they were easily of orchestral quality, at least as far as the eye could see. “Interested in going in?” Amabile asked her. “I actually can recommend this shop, Lady Octavia.” “Oh?” She nodded. “My sister’s husband owns the place.” She grinned, then turned to Whiskey. “Do you play an instrument?” “I…play the biwa,” she admitted. “But I doubt such would be found here, as it is an Inarijin instrument.” “You’d be surprised,” Amabile told her. “Remember that the Equestrian province of Neighpon is not far from there, and there’s a lot of cultural influence.” She opened the door. “Shall we go in?” “Hey, fillies!” Adagio Dazzle called out as the three siren sisters arrived at the armory where their counterparts were storing their equipment. At the moment, the three human girls were opening the weapons crates that had been brought from Earth. “We came to wish you best of luck on your demonstration,” the golden-coated earth mare stated. “Getting the attention of Adm. Tumblehome is not going to be easy.” “Thanks, Addy,” Adagio told her counterpart. Sonata reached out towards her counterpart’s uniform. “Soni, this looks awfully thin for armor. Plus, it looks like you’re trying to hide in the forest, which doesn’t make sense.” “Yeah,” the youngest triplet admitted. “Remember that we humans wear clothing, so this is our uniform; specifically, this is our Type II Operational Uniform, which is set for woodland and forest combat. We have other types as well.” “That seems kinda overkill.” “Not really, Nata. We don’t have magic to protect ourselves, so we use clothing to aid us in that part; camouflage is designed to make us harder to hit. Anyway, we have Type I, which are just everyday operational wear, and those are blue; Type III, which are for deserts; Type IV, which are for grasslands; and Type V, which are for cold and snowy climates. Each of them is designed to help us blend in with our environments.” “Yeah, but….” She looked at the uniform again. “No armor of any kind?” “Oh, don’t worry: we have that, too, though we really shouldn’t need it for the demonstration.” She then went over to another case and pulled out her helmet and body armor, to the surprise of the siren. “That’s all there is?” “That’s all there needs to be,” Sonata replied. Meanwhile, pony Aria watched her counterpart as she pulled a boxy metal object that was most certainly not a weapon she was familiar with. The Hoof looked at the black, metallic thing with surprise. “That’s…not a sword, is it?” “Nope,” Aria said as she pulled a marksman’s rifle from the second crate. “We don’t deal in swords and bows. Well, I don’t, unless I know I’m going to hit my mark,” she said. “This is more along the lines of what we do.” “Why do I get the sudden feeling that we underestimated your skill?” the middle siren asked. “Let’s put it this way, Ria,” Aria said, “you got me good when you played me for that crossbow issue. Now it’s a little payback time.” The older counterpart suddenly had a very sinking feeling at those words. “Jewel, not that I mind you coming to visit me at work,” Silver said to her friend as Jewel read from a menu, “but you’ve got that look in your eye and I should really be worried, shouldn’t I?” The deliriously happy look in Jewel’s eyes said all that there was to be said. “I found my special somepony!” she chirped, her voice carrying the tone of somepony in a daze. “Good, it sounds like you finally came to your senses an—” “It’s Princess Sunset! I’m going to be Princess Sunset’s wife!” “—and I hereby retract what I was about to say,” Silver grumbled. “Jewel, for starters, let me remind you: you’ve never dated anypony! How do you know that she’s ‘the one’? Secondly, how do you know she’s even interested?” “Because that’s what my cutie mark is telling me!” Jewel told her. “I just know I’m destined to be the bride of a prince or princess and make them happy! And now that I’ve found my true love, I just need to find a way to prove it!” “That’s nice. Now will you order something? This is a restaurant, you know.” Jewel pondered at the menu for several moments as if in thought. Finally, she said, “Can I borrow your silk saddle and your copy of the Kamare Sutra?” Silver just rolled her eyes and sighed. “This had better be good,” Tumblehome grunted as she and her retinue arrived, standing where Arrowswift, Gen. Halberd, Cast. Marimba Rondo, and Snr. Mage Mystic Essence were. “I just had this uniform freshly laundered and starched for the coronation, and now I’ll have to have it cleaned again,” she said to nopony in particular. “We may as well get this farce over with.” As per military tradition, officials from the other branches had been invited as a courtesy, though the naval pegasus thought their presence to be completely useless, as this was ostensibly a naval issue…though she failed to see how the humans and their ways of battle could be any better than what the Navy already had. Still, Princess Luna made it clear that as the overall commander of military forces that the four branches of the Equestrian military had to work together, so here they were. Still, I have no idea why Celestia’s head maid is present, she groaned inwardly. Clearly more of that “Princess’ Hooves” nonsense. “Honestly, I’d rather not be a part of this dog-and-manticore show,” added Essence, the ranking Guildmember in Canterlot and thus attending on behalf of Archmagus Raspberry Beryl. He stroked his beard in a sign of frustration, looking at trio of strange figures standing around the large boxes. “Still, the Archmagus insists that these are figures of worth, especially since they will be tasked with protecting Princess Sunset. Though if I must be honest, I cannot for the life of me see how these howling beasts could ever do so.” “Oh, I don’t know,” Halberd stated, his mustache jubilantly bouncing up and down with each word he spoke, “from what I hear, these humans have much to offer our forces.” “From what I know, it will be worth your time,” Arrowswift told them. “I’ve been working with the rear admiral in command of the project—” “He’s not a rear admiral until I say he is,” Tumblehome countered. “I was introduced to him as such, so that’s what I’m sticking with. Anyway, I was fascinated by what Adm. Loam told me. Their military doctrine alone is stunning – it’s something we’re vastly unfamiliar with in Equestria.” “I will readily agree with Capt. Arrowswift,” Marimba agreed. “A report from two weeks ago stated that those three captured a terrorist attempting to harm Princess Twilight last month during the events in Ponyville.” “And yet the prisoner got away,” Essence commented drily. “One wonders if they were as truly effective as reported.” “Given they were in pony forms and not their natural ones, and yet still fought the terrorist to a standstill, I would say that’s an accomplishment in and of itself. Our forces need years of training to do what came natural to them, so clearly their abilities are exemplary.” “Yes, those so-called ‘commando capabilities’,” Tumblehome grumbled. “Such ‘tactics’ sully the honor of true military forces and is well beneath the dignity of naval ones. In my opinion, they are only fit for rabble and miscreants.” Halberd shook his head. “I disagree. The Asterion of Minos are the finest forces the minotaurs have ever assembled, and they far outpace units of their regular army.” “Then that just shows how inadequate they are compared to our forces,” Essence said with a hint of smugness. “I agree with Gen. Halberd,” Arrowswift commented. “We’ve done some training with the Asterions and they are no joke. We’ve learned quite a bit from them, and I think we’ll learn even more from the humans.” “If your forces still need to learn anything about protecting the nation from the threats, then our combat forces are in worse condition than I thought,” Tumblehome said without a trace of humor. “We need no trickery or chicanery such as commando units – superior firepower is what will save the day.” “Does she ever shut up?” Arrowswift whispered as an aside to Halberd, who diplomatically coughed into his hoof in reply. Marimba, on the other hand, glared daggers at the offending pegasus, wishing they could be real ones instead. Dressed in their finest silken brocades and diaphanous, gossamer trails of fabric moving around them like demented butterflies, a small legion of mares danced around Sunset, some carrying oversize fake branches of jasmine, the blossom petals on them enchanted to give off the scent of jasmine blooms in the spring. The cloying, overwhelming scent of jasmine filled the room to the point of suffocation. Seated in the center of the room like prey being encircled by predators, Sunset could only watch the grandiose, ridiculous display with the most unreadable face of politeness she’d ever been taught. It was taking her every bit not to cast a spell to prevent her from falling asleep due to the heady jasmine scent in the room or to need to bounce out due to the frenetic, pirouetting dances of the mares. The monotonal voice of the Saddle Arabian representative didn’t help much, either: “And now we get to the traditional planting season. Our legends tell of Prince Peridot encountering the true love of his life, Pilaf, while she was planting jasmine trees. And in the shade of a jasmine orchard, they forever pledged themselves to one another.” More dancers, with more jasmine-enchanted boughs came out, making the situation even more intolerable. “Kill me now,” the maize alicorn muttered under her breath. “I’m sorry, Princess?” the representative stated, craning his neck towards the alicorn. “I didn’t hear that; old age is getting to me, I’m afraid. Would you please repeat?” “I said…I’m wowed, Kahwaja,” she said, taking the time to use the traditional honorific. “This is…fascinating.” “I’m glad you approve, Princess; most young mares nowadays do not have an appreciation for the classics. Would you believe my daughter told me that the ceremony was boring and not worth the parchment it was written on? Ah, but she is just a teenager, and you are beyond that age, I believe. It is…difficult to fathom how adolescents think nowadays, I suppose.” “Yeah, completely,” Sunset sighed. A few minutes later, Sable arrived. He’d switched uniforms from his dress blues to service khakis, hoping that the everyday duty uniform would allow the brass to focus more on the triplets than him. While he knew what the triplets were capable of, he was sure that the others didn’t, and so keeping a sharp focus on their skills would be paramount. Unfortunately, that in itself was a different matter, he knew; politics weren’t normal military doctrine and even more so given that he was playing catchup with the politics of his newly-adopted second homeland. It was hard enough to imagine that as a flag officer in their military, he was now a subject of Equestria – Sunset having pointed that out – and that meant that he had as much duty and responsibilities to this nation as he did his old one. More so, though, he had a duty to the three young women currently under his command; he had only started to feel that he was the equal of the sœurs that had trained them in the “time that never was”, and now they were counting on him to be mentor and leader. That, for better or worse, was what he had to be – for their sakes and Sunset’s. “Mares and gentlestallions,” he began, making sure he looked at all, “thank you for taking time out of your schedules to administer this evaluation. The four of us are the nucleus of what we hope will be the newest line of defense for both Princess Sunset, as well as Equestria at large—” “That is for me to decide,” Tumblehome told the human. “Frankly, I fail to see why anypony would sink to using tactics that the basest of ponies would be disgusted to use. And you say you humans use these on a regular basis?” She scoffed. “Somehow, given our myths about your species, that does not surprise me in the least.” Sable looked at her. “Admiral, from the research I’ve done, it seems that Equestria has run into problems practically on a monthly basis. None of the branches of the military have handled it well, and with all due respect, it seems that the whole of our forces is grossly inadequate for the new types of threats coming before them.” “Because the princesses won’t let me rain down fire from the ships as we should,” Tumblehome muttered. “We had ships directly above Canterlot when the changeling attack occurred and we could have ended it in minutes—” “As I recall, the Harmonium and the Farfisa were blasted out of the sky shortly after the attack commenced,” Halberd pointed out. “And even if they weren’t, your plan would have levelled Canterlot worse than it already was! As it was, we had to deal with diversionary attacks all over the country, stretching our forces further!” “Unfortunately, most of the available battlemages were captured well beforehoof,” Essence grumbled. “They knew who we were and proceeded to target us in the weeks before the invasion.” “Which left only the Guard and the Hooves to take care of Canterlot’s defenses,” Arrowswift commented as Marimba nodded. “We Hooves were hamstrung by our particular restrictions, and could not do much,” Marimba stated. “Effectively, that left only the Guard to protect Canterlot.” “And even though we’re good, we can’t fight an entire war by ourselves,” Arrowswift admitted. “We went down and went down hard.” “The Bearers had the right idea, you know.” At Sable’s words, everypony looked at him. “A small team, headed straight for the goal with speed and precision made all the difference.” Giving the group his most serious look, he told them, “Surgical strikes are one of the specialties of my former nation – we have others – but the Bearers, unfortunately, weren’t trained to make the final call and as a result, they were captured.” “The Bearers aren’t combatants,” Tumblehome told him. “They’re not used to the sort of fighting that real warriors are, and they frankly never will be.” She then coughed before adding, “Except for Lt. Dash. She’s the only one of the lot suited for a combat role.” “Except that Lady Twilight has done the final duty,” Marimba reminded her. “From the report that Capt. Armor disseminated a couple of years back, Lady Twilight prevented the reintegration of King Sombra, thus completely rendering him discorporate and thus very much dead.” Essence looked at the castellan as if she were mad. “Come now, you don’t believe that, do you? Our former archmagus was a bookish mare, completely incapable of anything other than her academic studies, and certainly not the combatant that her brother is.” “It’s clear you know nothing about Twilight,” Arrowswift accused. “You do realize there’s a reason why she’s called Equestria’s ‘Warrior Princess’, right? From what Capt. Armor told me, the moment she realized what she had done, she fell apart at first until he explained to her that it was the right thing. It wasn’t easy for her, but she persevered and that’s why she has the respect of everypony in the Guard.” “Regardless,” Tumblehome told her, “she’s not a warrior and she never will be. She’s not battle-trained for that sort of thing.” “And that’s exactly why SIREN is needed,” Sable explained. “A single fireteam of SIRENs could have completely halted the attack, and while there may have been enemy survivors, there probably wouldn’t have been many. Furthermore, a SIREN team would have successfully executed a decapitation strike and the changeling queen would be nothing more than a bad memory.” “I have a hard time believing that,” Tumblehome told him. “Unless you can successfully prove your words.” “That’s the plan.” He then walked over to his subordinates and gestured to Adagio, who was currently standing there at attention. “This is Capt. Adagio Dazzle, prospective commanding officer of SIREN Team Alpha. She will be demonstrating our weapons with the help of Cmdrs. Aria Blaze, prospective CO of SIREN Team Bravo; and Sonata Dusk, prospective CO of SIREN Team Charlie.” He looked at Adagio. “All yours, Captain.” “Thank you, Admiral,” Adagio told him. Gesturing to a set of bullseyes, she stated, “All, please note the various targets at differing distances. As you can see, most of them are well out of the range of all but your most advanced, magic-enhanced weapons.” She then smiled and added, “However, this is well within the effective range of our everyday gear. As myself, and Cmdrs. Blaze and Dusk will show you, just a small fireteam can be a deadly unit, and when you scale that up, a standard SIREN Team – a group no larger than the average army company – has the same combat potential as a brigade.” “WHAT?” That shout came from Adagio’s counterpart, who looked at her own sisters before turning back to the humans. “That…that’s impossible!” But the teenage Adagio shook her head. “I assure you, Ms. Dazzle, it is not,” she said. “I’ve seen it on a regular basis.” Ignoring the further horror on the face of her counterpart, as well as the other ponies that looked at her in disbelief, Adagio walked over and picked up a sniper rifle. “This is a Remington MSR, the latest and greatest out of the Remington Arms Company of Remington, New York. Chambered in 7.62x51 NATO standard and with an effective range of 1700 yards, this is a precision sniper rifle, not a distance one. With this, we can easily put rounds through the target over there—” She pointed to a target three thousand yards off, helpfully denoted with an attached card where 3000 was written in easy-readable type, “—with little issue.” She then handed it to Aria. “Cmdr. Blaze, if you would, please.” “Aye, ma’am,” Aria complied, taking the MSR in hand and getting into a comfortable firing position. “Wait!” Arrowswift spoke up. “If that weapon has an effective range of 1700 yards, how do you expect to hit a target out at 1300 yards past that?” “Skill,” Aria replied, never taking her eyes off the target as she practically froze herself in place, right eye focusing through the scope and waiting for the time to take the shot. Behind her, her counterpart looked at the middle triplet as if she were some sort of inexplicable creature, even more so than already. The moment never happened, however, as a scream split the sky: “SOMEPONY HELP ME!” All heads turned towards the sky as a black griffin raced through the air, followed by a dozen heavily-armed and armored griffins. The dark-colored one had the lead, but was being outpaced by the pursuers, who clearly had malicious intent on their minds. Arrowswift made ready to take to the air. “Looks like griffin mercenaries. Summon Guard forces on standby; we need to get a squad of fliers in the air and cap—” “Belay that order,” Tumblehome countermanded. As Arrowswift was about to protest, the flag officer stated, “If these humans want to prove themselves, then we should let them.” Turning to Sable, she ordered, “If you can rescue that black griffin, then I’ll consider this evaluation successful.” Just then an earth pony wearing Solar Guard armor raced up to Arrowswift. “Captain! That’s Softwing up there – she’s the assistant of Countess Twilight Velvet!” Halberd looked at the newcomer, then turned to Tumblehome. “That’s a VIP – these humans can’t fly, Tumblehome! I suggest we let the experts handle this one.” “Well, that’s too bad for them, isn’t it?” Tumblehome responded smoothly. “I expect the sailors under my command to be the very best, and if these humans aren’t up to snuff, well then—” “COMMANDER, GET THEIR ATTENTION!” Sable thundered. “Lighting them up, sir,” Aria responded. She tossed her current rifle to Sonata, who then took aim while Aria reached into another case, withdrawing a Tac-50 Long Range Sniper. She dropped to the ground, popped the tripod, aimed carefully and without waiting for an order, took the shot. The Tac-50 roared as a lick of flame blasted from the barrel. The humans, used to the deafening report of the weapon, briefly winced as the sound echoed out through the parade field; however, the ponies instinctively ducked in panic from the painful noise. Aria, moving on muscle memory, ejected the round then slammed the bolt home once more, loading the second shot. The weapon sang out again, and would have deafened the others, had not Essence immediately cast a muffling spell, dampening the sound to the mere equivalent of distant thunder. Meanwhile, the teen fired twice more, and in the distance, three griffins fell from the sky. “Keep the heat on until we draw them from their target,” Adagio ordered. Aria acknowledged the order by continuing to fire, dropping three more until the group peeled off, moving away from their target and vectoring towards them, drawn by what had suddenly taken out a quarter of their number. Adagio moved over to the crate containing the P-90s, withdrawing several. She turned to Sable, tossing him one. “Sir, you’ve got VIP defense,” she told him. “Roger that, Captain,” he told her, taking the weapon naturally. Adagio then handed another to Aria as she stepped away from her sniper. Meanwhile, the griffins had entered the range of Sonata’s MSR, allowing her to drop two more, to the shock of the ponies present. The remaining griffins screamed and flung javelins at their targets. The weapons, clearly magically-charged, lanced towards their quarry, designed to easily maim a pony defender, if not worse. However, against the humans they were completely useless, as the triplets easily sidestepped the strikes, which hit the ground and tore out gouts of earth as they impacted. This did little to deter the battle-hardened teenagers, who continued to rain fire on their targets. “Take one alive,” Sable told them. “We need to know what the hell’s going on.” “Roger that, sir,” Adagio answered. “Cmdr. Dusk, disable two of them. We’ll take out the remaining tangos.” Sonata nodded briefly, blowing out the wings of two of them while the others were cut to shreds by P-90 fire. Several bodies crashed to the earth with a sickening thud that horrified the assembled audience. Sonata quickly used the MSR’s scope to search for additional assailants. “All tangos down,” she announced. Adagio trained her rifle on the intended captives. “Tie them up,” she ordered Sonata. “We don’t want them trying to get away and we don’t know what they’re capable of.” “Aye,” she responded, walking over to a smaller box containing other small items such as tactical cord. After a few more minutes, a squadron of Guard pegasi arrived, led by a Solar Guard coronet. “Captain, we have a status update,” she stated. “Lady Softwing is safe and we’re collecting the remains of her pursuers. What the buck happened to them?” “It’s…classified for now,” Arrowswift told them, offering no other details. “Um…okay. Anyway, we spotted a second group of griffins that had broken off after…the first group was taken down, and in any case, we have a squadron in pursuit.” “Good,” Tumblehome said. “Contact the nearest ship and tell them I’ve given orders to assist you with whatever you need. Now, we’ll have to get a hold of the Agency, as these miscreants will need to be interrogated as to why they attacked a Crown official.” Arrowswift seethed; she desperately wanted to tell the sanctimonious admiral off – she risked the life of an innocent just to satisfy her curiosity, and now she was trying to take credit for it? She was about to open her mouth, when she felt Halberd’s calming hoof on her withers. She turned to look at him and the look in his eyes made it clear: I’ll talk to Luna about this. “Fine,” she said, mentally tabling her issue for now. Turning to the coronet, she said, “Do as Adm. Tumblehome says. Additionally, have one of your troops get a hold of the Agency and see if they can get an interrogator here immediately.” “We can actually handle that,” Marimba offered, gesturing to her three Hooves on hoof, though much to her (lack of) surprise, Tumblehome ignored her. “Actually, if you don’t mind, we’ll take care of it,” Adagio interjected. “We have some training in negotiation.” “You do? I would hardly think such barbarians as you would have that,” Essence said aloud. Arrowswift might have put up with not taking on superior officers, but she wasn’t going to stand for junior ones stomping on the ones that saved the day. “Wow, specist plothole much?” she snarled at him. “Do I need to send a note to the Archmagus about your attitude?” That got him to shut up immediately, and she smirked. “Thought so.” Turning back to Adagio, she said, “All yours, Captain.” “Thank you.” Adagio nodded to Sonata, who had switched to her sidearm while heading towards the bound griffin, while Aria retrieved a combat shotgun from the crate – an Armi SPA M1014. Sonata, pistol at the ready, reached over and grabbed the griffin by the scruff of the neck, dragging him over to a spot where some straw ponnequins used for target practice sat. “One move, and that’s the last thing you’ll ever do, am I clear?” she hissed at him. “I ain’t saying nothing, you….” The griffin, a male with golden-brown feathers, a dark brown coat and gray eyes, clad in a mix of leather and steel plate barding, finally noticed the inequine creature holding him. “Wha…what are you?” he gasped. “A human,” was the creature’s answer, “and I’m going to be the last thing you ever see unless you answer my questions, understood?” “What are you going to do to me?” he said. Under normal circumstances, he would have dared a Guardspony to try something, but his bravado vanished under the small, beady eyes of the monster before him. His best griffins had just been blown out of the sky despite having the finest armor and weapons available – what would this creature be capable of up-close? “Cmdr. Blaze,” she said to Aria, “would you care to show our guest?” Aria took aim at the ponnequin as Sonata turned the griffin to make him watch. From a distance, all the others did as well. With that, Aria pulled the trigger, and the shotgun barked louder than any of the previous guns had before, enough to nearly nullify Essence’s area spell. A plume of flame erupted from the barrel, and less than a second later, most of the target was gone. Aria then immediately trained the shotgun on the griffin. “Start talking,” she ordered. The griffin immediately did so, though in the process, the blubbering wretch also produced a yellow puddle. A discordant note sang out from the smaller contrabass as Octavia recognized the sound of gunfire. “What the hell?” “Thunder?” Amabile wondered. “It isn’t supposed to rain today. I wonder if they’re testing out fireworks?” “No,” Whiskey said, her paw going to her swords. “Those were explosions. Don’t worry, Lady Octavia, I will protect you and your maid.” Amabile laughed. “Oh, trust me, I don’t need protection.” She reached underneath her saddlepack, revealing a set of throwing knives. “If anything, I’m supposed to be here to protect you both.” She did, however, look towards the window and the increasing sound of booms in the distance. “Although, I am curious as to what that sound is, given that it’s clearly not fireworks.” “Well, nothing you can do for it now, Ama,” Quick Note, the owner of the store, said as he came back. “I’m sure the Guard has it all well in hoof. Now then, Miss Human, I presume that you found what you’re looking for?” “I have,” Octavia said, “though I am curious why you’re not afraid of me like everyone else seems to be.” “If the princesses vouch for you, then that’s good enough for me,” he told her. “Besides, I’m married to a Hoof. After that, every potential threat seems to be just another day that ends in Y.” “And now we proceed to the part of the growing season. Traditional Saddle Arabian lore teaches us that on this date, Scirocco the Swift learned how to defend those under his aegis through the art of cavalry tactics….” Sunset was strongly tempted at that point to import enough coffee to keep the Sugarcube Corner Café in business for the next two years, because she was sure she was going to need it to make it through this hell on Equus. “And that’s all the information he had of use,” Sonata told Arrowswift. “All of it?” the Guard captain asked. “Well…he also admitted that he had a Tea Time Tearose doll when he was a cub; and that he’s a big fan of All Directions – no idea what that is.” “That’s a pop band that’s popular with teenage fillies,” Arrowswift said with a chuckle. Sonata shrugged. “Well, he also admitted that he has a thing for griffins with really thin tails, and that he’s got a subscription to Playcolt magazine—” “Okay, I guess that really is all of it,” Arrowswift interjected, not wanting to hear the rest. “Thanks for the help, Commander.” She then turned to her guardsponies and ordered, “Take him away. He can heal in a jail cell.” Satisfied with that, Sable looked at Tumblehome. “So, when do we begin discussing integration?” The look on the pegasus’ face was somewhere between livid and horrified. “That was barbaric, monstrous, horrifying—” “And extremely effective,” Halberd interjected, leaving Tumblehome sputtering in shock. Undeterred, the general continued: “Think about it: the biggest problem we have fighting other species on this world is that we do not have the capacity for aggression that they do. Sure, we have individuals capable of such acts, because otherwise we wouldn’t have protectors, but specieswise, we do not have that talent.” He sighed and admitted, “But unfortunately, Equus is not a perfect world, and the last war and all its casualties proved that.” He looked at Sable and said, “The influx of humanity on our side may be just the thing that will give us a much-needed balance on the battlefield.” “NO!” Tumblehome shouted. “I forbid it! These things are monsters and I will not sully my fleet with their presence!” “You made an agreement, Tumble,” he reminded her. “The Navy destroys monsters – it does not welcome them within its ranks!” she shouted at him. She didn’t, however, note the smirk from Marimba. After all, if Tumblehome only knew the true secret of the Hooves, it would probably shatter her worldview to know that “monsters” were the personal protectors of Princess Celestia herself. “Well then,” Halberd commented, “it seems that we are at an impasse. The Navy doesn’t want you, but I can see your value, Adm. Loam. I don’t suppose you might consider switching your flag to us, would you? As the Lord Marshal of the Army, I can assure you that you will have a place with us.” He then grinned and said, “And the feather in the cap would be nice as well.” “I think I can safely speak for Capt. Armor when I say that offer is extended by the Guard as well,” Arrowswift added, sensing Halberd was up to something, though she wasn’t sure what. “Unfortunately, Admiral, we cannot make the same offer,” the Castellan told him, “though I will give you my strongest support wherever your forces land. It is clear you are an asset to the nation and we would be sorely remiss if we did not take that into account.” Tumblehome was about to argue with the three of them, when an aide whispered something in her ear: namely, with the Guard having functional control of the princess’ protection and the army in charge of protecting overseas embassies, the protection of Princess Sunset and special operations being under naval aegis – the “feather in the cap” Halberd mentioned – would be paramount. A feather that Tumblehome was about to throw away. She looked at her aide with surprise, then back at the SIREN commander, then to Halberd and Arrowswift, then sighed. Her face then took on a cast of absolute necessary pragmatism, even if personally disgusting to her. “I may have been a bit too hasty,” Tumblehome stated. “Perhaps new tactics are called for, and I did make a vow. Let it not be said that the Fleet doesn’t stand by its word.” She looked at Sable and said with a resigned sigh, “Rear Adm. Loam, you may proceed with your Special Initiative.” Gesturing to her aide, she said, “You will report to Vice Adm. Adviso and she will oversee your duties in the Navy.” “Thank you, Admiral – we won’t let you down,” Sable told her, though he caught a wink from Halberd out of the corner of his eye. He made a note to keep tabs on the wily general, as he might prove to be a great ally in the future. “See that you don’t,” Tumblehome said curtly. “Now if you will excuse me, I have to see to the Order of Battle to make sure the coronation is protected.” Saying nothing further, she walked off in the direction of her personal chariot. Essence, seeing no other reason to be present, opted to depart as well. The group waited until both were gone before Halberd laughed – a strong belly laugh – and said, “Adm. Loam, please come see me at your convenience later today. I have heard of your plan to poach my best for your SIREN initiative, and while I’m loathe to let go of some of my finest ponies, I care more about protecting the realm and so will make some recommendations.” He then turned to Adviso and said, “And how did you know what I was up to, Adviso?” Adviso, a pegasus who was essentially the second-in-command of the REN, looked at Halberd with a slight smirk. “Adm. Tumblehome is long overdue for retirement, and the Navy is equally overdue for modernization,” she told him. She then looked at Sable and said, “I have read the documentation you supplied regarding your former nation’s navy, and while I cannot comment on the military aspects – half of what I read is well beyond me, admittedly – the organization is light-years beyond what we are now. The configurations you plan for your SIRENs alone is far superior to what we have for the entire Fleet, and I assure you, I will try to push for the same organization within the regular fleet as well.” She then seemed to deflate as she sighed. “As a tried-and-true seapony, it saddens me to see that’s what’s happened to us, and to know that it was the Lord Admiral responsible for it.” “I wish you could take over the Fleet, Adviso,” Marimba told her. “I don’t say this often, but Tumblehome is dangerous. Her plan was to actually destroy Canterlot in order to save it. I can’t see how anypony would have a mindset like that where it would make sense!” “Well, perhaps once she sees the march of progress, she will realize time has passed her by,” Adviso told her. “She was once a good officer, one of the best. But as you know, if you aren’t willing to keep up with the times, then you become a relic. And around here, relics of any kind often cause the most trouble.” Held aloft in a field of light blue, a cup of tea made its way to nervously-shaking talons, which took them gratefully. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Twilight Velvet, Countess Galiceno and Head of the Crown Office of Welfare and Civil Services, asked. Softwing looked at her mentor with verdigris-colored eyes. “I…I’ll….” Shaking, the griffoness paused to regain her composure. “I’ll be fine, Your Grace. Thank you for asking.” She took a sip of the offered tea, then shuddered. “Still, to attack me in my own home – in our capital, no less!” “I’m just glad you were able to get away,” the unicorn assured her. “Look, you’ve had a horrible day, and I don’t feel comfortable with you staying at your place, not with the second group of griffin assailants still at large. I want you to take the guardponies outside, head to your place, pack for a few days and you can stay here in the palace while your place is repaired.” Softwing, however, shook her head. “But that would send the message that bigots in both my species and yours can get away with whatever they wish, your grace. It was harrowing, I admit, but I will bear the burden.” Velvet was about to reply when there was a knock at the door. Per her policy, the pony came in without bidding. “Your grace, Dr. Velvet has just arrived.” “Please send her in, Miss Datestamp,” the unicorn assured her, then she turned her attention back to the other individual in the room. “Softwing, that’s noble of you, but you’ve had a rough day – rougher than normal. I want you to take the day off, then at least stay overnight. Please, you would be soothing my nerves, if nothing else.” The griffoness would have said something, except at that very moment, a strange creature walked in with what appeared to be a smile on her face. “Wow, your office is much nicer than mine.” “Oh?” the pony Velvet asked the newcomer. “How so?” “Yours seems to be from Scandinavian Design,” human Velvet said with a trace of envy. “Mine, however, is probably the best our office could get from UNICOR.” The unicorn laughed. “And here I always thought it was a little too ostentatious for my tastes.” She prepared another cup of tea and floated it over. “Care for a cup, Doctor?” “Thank you,” the human said, gratefully taking the cup. “So what’s on the agenda for my visit? I presume the extra security isn’t for me, I hope.” “No, I’m afraid it’s for what happened to my stalwart employee here,” Velvet stated. “She was attacked by brigands from her homeland.” “Not my homeland,” the griffoness muttered. “Not anymore, and honestly? It never really has felt like that.” It was then that she noticed that the stranger was nearly identical to her mentor, save for species. A curious look came over her face as she noticed that the figure, as strange as it was, was a human. “Your grace,” she asked, “I can’t help but notice that your guest is a…human, or at least looks like one? No offense intended,” she apologized to the newcomer. “Furthermore, she’s got the same coloration as you for the most part, and there’s something about her magic…or rather, the lack of it. I’d almost say she has no magic, but that wouldn’t be possible, would it?” The stranger looked at the unicorn. “She’s a smart one.” Pony Velvet chuckled. “That’s to be expected of a valedictorian of the Magic Academy. Regardless, introductions are in order, I suppose.” She gestured first to the griffoness. “This is Softwing, my senior research assistant, and somepony who, honestly, shouldn’t be working for me, but that in itself is a long story.” She then gestured to the human. “Softwing, this is Dr. Twilight Velvet – my counterpart from another dimension that is threadbare in magic, as you’ve noticed. And yes, she is a human.” “A human?” The look on Softwing’s face was one of surprise. “Is that even possible?” she sputtered. “It’s true for the most part, though as far as magic goes, I’ve recently learned otherwise.” The newcomer smiled as she offered her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Softwing,” she said. Softwing’s eyes grew wide, but not with fear; instead, they were of delight. The smile on her beak became huge as she took the hand and shook. “I remember the stories from my chickhood, but I didn’t know they were real! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor!” “The pleasure’s all mine,” Velvet replied. “Like you, I didn’t know your species actually existed. Humans are the sole intelligent species on our world.” “That’s amazing!” Softwing chirped. “I wish I could be that lucky!” Seeing the sudden look on her mentor’s face, she suddenly realized what she’d said and blushed. “Sorry, your grace, I didn’t mean…. Oh, who am I kidding? I did mean that.” “I understand your frustration,” pony Velvet assured her. “I’m sure the Guard is doing the best they can, and I’m sure after this, the Agency will likely be involved as well.” “At this point I’ll have the whole of the military protecting me and it won’t be enough!” She let out a sad, keening sigh. “I can’t take this anymore, your grace! Between the specism and now this, it feels like you’re the only one I have on my side!” Tears started forming in her eyes. “I just can’t….” “What’s going on?” Velvet asked Velvet. “I think she’s better off explaining it than I am,” the unicorn told the woman, before both looked at the third female in the room. Softwing fidgeted in her seat, took another drink of her tea, then said, “Softwing isn’t my birth name, as the Countess already knows. I was born Grizelda Greatsword, and I’m the daughter of Griswald Greatsword, a griffin warlord.” “Warlord?” human Velvet asked. Softwing nodded. “Ever since the death of King Grover a couple of centuries ago, the remnants of the Kingdom of Griffonstone have been ruled over by an uneasy collection of fiefdoms vying for the throne. They claim to be a unified confederation of reeves, but in truth, the highreeves scheme and plot against one another while trying to figure out how to seize power. In any case, it was shortly after I was hatched that my father discovered that I was to be his secret weapon.” “How?” “Easy – I had magic on the scale of a unicorn,” Softwing explained, “and for a griffoness, that makes me a powerful being.” “Griffins are a species with limited magic,” Velvet explained to her human counterpart. “They can control weather like pegasi and batponies and have natural access to atmothurgy and fulminothurgy – control of winds and lightning – that’s actually better than that of ponies, for the most part. But it’s extremely rare when a griffin can fully tap into her wellspring and become a mage.” “My father noticed immediately when I had a foalsflare – unheard of for a non-pony….” A thought came to her. “Do I need to explain what that is, Doctor?” The woman recalled a very recent foalsflare that had occurred in her house just weeks past and how it had ruined a guestroom until Sunset had fixed that. “Surprisingly, no, you don’t need to,” she said cryptically. “But please continue.” Softwing nodded. “My father noticed immediately and went to the great effort of having me sent from our reeve of Winglade here to Equestria and to be enrolled in the Magic academy. I think Princess Celestia agreed, as it would be a chance to see some peace in the reeves, given that the westernmost ones have often committed piracy of towns along the Equestrian shoreline. Thus, I was sent here to study and placed under the care – raised, essentially – by Viscount Goldleaf and his wife, Viscountess Silvervein.” She smiled warmly, as clearly gentle memories came to mind. “They loved me as if I was their own filly, and they were true parents to me. My birth mother was one of my father’s kept griffonesses, and I never saw her again once I foalsflared. I don’t even know her name. And as for my father? He only sees me as a tool. But Goldleaf and Silvervein loved me, took care of me and if I wasn’t a griffoness, I would have never known I wasn’t anything other than a beloved granddaughter.” She wiped a tear from her eyes when she said, “I was heartbroken when they passed of old age.” “Celestia wanted to give you their lands, but they were lands promised under the ancien regime of Unicornia,” unicorn Velvet explained. She then turned to her counterpart and said, “This was around the time Sunset undertook the mission to your world, so there was already a lot of chaos going around in the castle, and by the time Celestia looked into it, the lands had already reverted to the old families.” She turned back to Softwing. “Go ahead, dear.” “Finally, after my last year of study at the Academy, I’d made valedictorian, and then disaster struck. I’d found out my father had sold – yes, sold – me to a rival warlord that he’d made an alliance with. Geralt Greasypaws is even older than my father, and he doesn’t want me for my magic – he only wants me for my tail and wings!” She saw the confusion on the human’s face and clarified: “I have larger wings and a thinner tail than most griffonesses, and in our society, that’s seen as very sexually attractive. Some griffonesses, as I understand it, have made decent livings as courtesans, due to those qualities. Regardless, I wanted nothing to do with that; plus, I’d spent my entire life growing up practically as a pony, and had Goldleaf and Silvervein still lived, they would have fought to keep me safe! “And so I did the only thing I could do: I petitioned the Crown for asylum and renounced my position and name as a highreeve’s daughter. I changed my name – after all that my father and that beast Geralt did, I was more than happy to! Besides, Silvervein told me that she was always fond of the name Softwing.” “Silvy was my predecessor here at the Office,” Velvet stated. “She’d always said that if they’d had a filly, that’s what they would have named her.” “So that’s who I became. I wrote my father – excuse me, Highreeve Griswald – and told him that I never wanted to see him or his ‘buyer’ ever again, and when he and Geralt showed up at the palace to claim me, Shining Armor himself expelled them from the palace!” She looked at her mentor and said, “I’ll always be grateful to him for that.” “He was only doing what was right,” Velvet told her. “He felt it was paramount to protect a mare in distress.” Softwing blushed in appreciation at that; to her, it was the highest compliment. Relaxing, she continued with, “Finally, I graduated, and as a reward for my work, I was asked by Princess Cadance herself to be the seneschal for Princess Twilight! I was amazed – I’d be the first non-pony seneschal in the history of, well, ever, so of course I said yes! It was going to be a great moment for me, and I was getting ready to move to Ponyville.” She sighed. “And that’s when disaster struck.” “Disaster?” Velvet asked. Her mind swam to a man who thought he could control a demon and the aftermath it had caused her, the pain of watching her oldest daughter die and to find out she wasn’t even human. While it had turned out okay in the end, at that time there had been nothing more than the agony and despair of death and suffering. “First, the Tirek war, and I don’t have to cover that. But second, during the Winter of Aftermath, when the realm was already suffering because of famine, homelessness and the Princess’ suffering, that’s when the rest hit: an army led by Garamond Grainburner, one of Griswald’s enemies, came to kill me. I guess he figured that if he destroyed me, the alliance between my father and Geralt would fall apart. Unfortunately, he didn’t count on Prince Divine Right and his corsairs. He beat them back and sent those beasts back to the griffin lands with burnt tailfeathers!” She chuckled briefly, but then added, “Unfortunately, it was enough for ‘certain elements of the nobility’ to convince others that a non-pony seneschal would be a clear danger to Princess Twilight and her court. And unfortunately, they have some political sway.” “We know who it was, but we have no proof,” Velvet said, pawing the ground with an angry hoof before looking at her counterpart. “She’s slippery and she doesn’t have the honor that her forebears or even her brother has, sad to say.” She then looked at the heartbroken griffoness and said, “I did what I could, so I’ve taken Softwing under my metaphorical wings.” “And I am ever grateful for that, your grace,” Softwing said. “I’ve been content here, and I thought that I was safe. But today just proved the lie of that.” She buried her beak in her claws, sobbing while Velvet ran a comforting hoof against her back. “What happens to me now? Do I run to the Empire, only to be hunted there? Where after that? Yakyakistan? Zebrica? Will I ever be safe?” Looking at the two, the human Velvet wasn’t sure if she had the answers to that; after all, she’d only just been introduced to this world two days ago. But she did know when she wanted to be of help. Bending down, she instinctively gave the griffoness a hug, saying, “Don’t worry. We’ll think of something.” “‘We’ll’?” the Velvet Softwing knew asked curiously. “Unless you can give me an entirely new life, that’s not likely to happen,” Softwing sobbed. Velvet suddenly had an idea. “Fortunately for you, I have a daughter who’s a meddler,” she said with a grin. She reached into a pocket in her jacket, withdrawing a black square. “What’s that?” Softwing asked. The human began tapping on its mirrored surface. “Sometimes the sunrise presents problems,” she said cryptically, “but often the sunset solves as many problems as it creates.” “I don’t understand.” The other Velvet caught it. “We’d be appreciative if she did.” “Well then,” Velvet said as she put her iPhone to her ear, “let’s just see if I can arrange a flame-haired miracle or two.” “Thank you for your time, Dr. Brainpan,” a fat brown unicorn with a scruffy green mane and near-opaque glasses said to the mental therapist. “I shall inform the Medical Board that you pass with flying colors.” “I appreciate that, Dr. Busycheck,” Brainpan told him and his assistant. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an important appointment in a few minutes. I’d discuss more, but I’ve been asked to keep it confidential. I’m sure you understand.” Busycheck nodded. “As a doctor myself, I certainly do. Have a Celestia-blessed Day, Doctor.” With that, Busycheck and his assistant walked away from the office, and eventually out of the building. He didn’t speak again until they departed. “Well, that’s the last one. He seems to check out.” “You almost seem as though you’re sad that he didn’t, boss,” the assistant replied. The stallion shrugged. “Guess I was hoping for a little excitement in my—” His words cut off as a human, a maid from the palace and a kitsune walked past them, into the building. The aide dropped her disguise, revealing Honey Trap, a member of the Agency. “You okay there, boss?” she asked him. “Busycheck” dropped his disguise as well, revealing Blueblood. “I thought I saw a ghost,” he told her, “and it was….” “Was what?” “Strangely…it was beautiful,” he told her. “Yeah, boss, you seriously need a vacation,” Honey stated as she gestured for them to keep moving down the road. “Maybe you should take that week off to Neighagra Falls, like you were planning.”