The governor startled awake when she heard a knock on her door. “Go away!” she reflexively called. She'd fallen asleep on the pillow in front of the low coffee table in her personal car. She still felt a buzz, and a little drool on her chin. She wiped it away.
I fell asleep? No, I didn't pass out, I didn't drink that much... The painful question still pressed in her mind. She knew she should kill the alicorn, but hardly had the strength to do it. Something in her refused to give up. Nothing is ever easy with me, is it?
“Governor, m'am, it's Nightgale. I'm here on important business,” a muffled voice came through the door.
She immediately got up and answered the door in her nightgown.
He stood in the tiny hallway outside her room, averting his eyes as soon as he saw how she was dressed. As protocol demanded, three of her personal honor guard stood behind him. “You three, back to the foyer,” she immediately ordered.
“Yes m'am.” They all replied and immediately left the tiny hallway.
Nightgale watched them leave, then turned back to facing the wall rather than look at the governor directly. Before he could speak, she did. “Come on in, Nightgale, and don't be so shy, it's just a nightgown, it's not like I'm naked.” She turned around and led him into the room.
He followed, made sure to close the door behind him, cleared his throat, then started, “Hm, yes. I'm just here to see the asset, m'am.”
She couldn't help but notice for the first time what honor and valor his medals told of. She always knew he was loyal, dependable and strong, but she was glad he'd been recognized for it over his entire career. “Oh, the asset?” She went all the way to the bed then sat sideways across it, stretching with a yawn and shuffling her wings. “Well there's more to see here than that other mare.” She grinned wolfishly. She could feel herself blushing, a buzz still in her head from her wine.
He looked troubled. “M'am, with all due respect, I'm just here to have a word with the prisoner,” he said in a low voice.
“Oh there's no need to be so quiet. This room is very soundproof.” Her eyes were lidded.
“While this design puts a secret cargo car in the most secure location possible, I now have complaints for the engineers for making it impossible to access without crossing your personal luxury car. May I go see the unicorn?”
“Oh hush, I'm the one who ordered that car there. To make sure nopony could interrupt our time with the unicorn. But nevermind her, nopony can interrupt our time together, either...” She blinked twice.
“Right. May I go see her, then?” he asked, unphased. “It's been a long time now. If she wets more than her towel can take, her wool blankets could get wet and she would die of exposure in minutes. The car behind yours is only soft-warmed. It's only barely above freezing. I also wish to begin interrogation, and inventory must be taken on all the classified material in there since we are now underway.”
“What if I wet more than my 'towel' can take?”
He shuffled his wings uncomfortably. “M'am!” he sternly rebuked, “I understand these are your private quarters and you're off-duty, but I'm not. Not until you're safely in Hatten.”
“And who do you report to? Me. And only me! So why don't you come 'report' to me right now?” she sat up, her wings flaring, her voice picking up desperation. “Other officers report to high command, but not you, not a personal guard.”
He started a brisk trot towards a door beside her bed, opposite from the door he entered from. “Excuse me, m'am.”
“How dare you disobey me!” she yelled, then shot out beside her bed, in front of him.
He stopped. She blocked his path to the door, and the only way around her was to climb over her bed. He glanced back at the door he came in from, then back at her.
“What's wrong, Nightgale? We're both single. And you're sworn to protect me! What if I need protecting?” She walked towards him.
He backed away, but kept his posture straight. “There are three honor guards in the foyer. I can stand guard in the machinery room -” he nodded towards the door she kept him from “- if you're concerned about your safety from the unicorn, I could even watch the beast directly, but-”
“I don't want to die to die alone, Nightgale! Don't let me die without-”
“And you won't!” he snapped and stopped in place, the door to her private bathroom behind him.
“Then you'll... -?” she raised a hoof to his jacket's buttons.
He grabbed her wrist, then gently lowered her hoof back to the carpet. “Not now. I meant you won't die. If you want to court me, then ask when you're in a better state of mind, m'am. But we both have our honor and duty to uphold-”
Her wings flared, now for an entirely different reason. “Duty, duty! Enough duty! I – I...” Her wings relaxed as the anger in her voice dissipated. But duty is what I decided to be loyal to.
...isn't it? She shook.
“M'am... Full Spectrum..." his voice fought to keep calm, suppressing a slight shake, but he steeled himself through it, "You're correct. I only report to you. And you're an attractive mare, definitely. But I'm not going to take advantage of you while you're inebriated. I have my security concerns about you drinking on this train, but it's not my position to ask you not to. But it is my position to attend to the tasks you ordered me to when you were in a clearer state of mind. Now, since you are not in a position to grant me permission, I'll assume I have it, unless you have any major reasons I shouldn't go attend to the unicorn right now?”
As he spoke, her eyes went distant. I decided to kill that unicorn to uphold my duty. And now what am I doing? The buzzing in her head grew harsh. Betraying it? Betraying the thing I've killed so many ponies for!? I won't just die - I'll die a lonely disgrace!
“I'll take that as a no,” he continued. “And governor,” he put a hoof on her shoulder and looked straight in her eyes. She met his look, her own eyes now wide open and fully aware. “I don't know if it's appropriate for a governor and her honor guard to court, but we can discuss that when you're in a clearer state of mind. But I can promise you one thing - you will get through this train ride safely, and we will take down The Falconer. Do you understand?”
She felt fresh tears pour down her cheeks. She nodded.
“Good.” He walked around her, then out the door next to her bed.
With the door closed, she was alone again with her thoughts and an unclear mind. No thoughts came, only a confused shower of emotion. His comforting words clashed with her fear.
She laid on the carpet and cried, though of the many things swirling in her mind, she didn't know which ones she was crying about.
Twilight laid in a confused darkness in the coffin-sized box. It was cold, the straps chaffed painfully and the position was uncomfortable, though the wool blankets were soft enough and the drugs strong enough that she floated in and out of consciousness for some unknown time. It was a sweet relief from the throbbing pain where her horn used to be.
As the periods of wakefulness grew longer and more coherent, she began to realize she could hear the rhythmic clanking of train tracks.
Then she heard a metal door open and boot steps. The steps drew closer until she heard the lock on her box being keyed open, and the lid finally lifted, wafting in icy air. The blanket over her face was pulled down, and she saw a blue pegasus stallion standing over her in a decorated military uniform. He was the same one who had accompanied Rainbow earlier and had held her down when she was moved into the box.
Her eyes were wide and afraid, and yet seeing any face was a relief from the isolation. He looked familiar – I've seen him in the Wonderbolts, haven't I!? She glanced around the dim, yellow-lit train car. It was clearly a freight car, the space was stacked high with metal crates.
“You're alive. Good.” He unfolded the blanket off of her, immediately exposing her to freezing air. He inspected the length of her body in the box, then put the blanket over her again. “If you're too loud I'll beat you, but if you start shivering let me know.”
She nodded, wide-eyed.
He lifted her box, set it on the floor, and began going through the crate it had been resting on. Over many minutes, one by one, he went through each of them, carefully examining them from one end to the other.
She had no idea what was happening – but hoped she might be able to figure it out with what she did know. As she fished through her memories, she began to recall how her interrogator had explained something about going somewhere safe, and that if she obeyed ...She'll reunite me and Rarity? But how could she be alive? I held her body!
It's obviously not true. She knows I held her body, right? But... Maybe that's why it is. If it wasn't true, she wouldn't make such a blatantly false lie, would she?
The illusion magic exists to make some other pony look like her. I think Astilbe mentioned something about that. But how would these ponies get a hold of it if they hate unicorns so much?
Then a memory clicked. She said she knew we could enchant things. So she knows that much. Maybe they use an illusion spell with some magic they captured from unicorns? But that doesn't make sense, if they think we're evil... Well, actually it does. Why not use stolen items, especially if they have useful enchantments on them?
Is that what he's looking for? But he doesn't seem to know where he's looking, he's just going through everything from one end to the other...
She didn't dare ask anything, though. She remained still and silent, as though he might somehow forget she was there if she were simply quiet enough.
It was a monumental task, but after enough time, he finally finished it. After re-packing and closing the last box, he came and stood directly over her.
He looked down at her with apprehension, wonder and uncertainty.
“Hmm?” she asked. Even through her gag, as nothing more than a muffled noise, her fear was audible.
“Oh, shut up. You pass for a decent mare but that's not what I'm here for.” He began pulling the wool blanket off her, feeling down to her side.
She tried to keep from trembling in fear. It was one thing to be left alone in a cell, even if blind. It was another to be touched up and down while completely helpless to move. This pony had very quickly made it obvious that even if he was a Wonderbolt in Equestria, he was nothing like one, here.
His hoof moved behind her to her bound wings. He slid one forward enough to see it, chaffing it painfully against the binding straps. “Remarkable,” he muttered, then replaced her blanket and sat down beside her, looking down at the captured alicorn.
He chuckled, then shook his head, turning to face the end of the car, lost in thought, though she was still completely within his field of view. He was silent for long minutes filled only by the clanking of the train's tracks.
“Curiosity is a weapon of war, as much as belief and knowledge are. Looking for answers at the wrong time and place can get you killed as much as not having them, but...” He looked at her. “Sometimes the right answer can change everything. Absolutely everything. You're already screwed, alicorn, but cooperate with us with the truth, and you may live to see your friend, yet, as the governor said. Personally, I just want to get to the bottom of this. I know underneath that horn you used to have and all this terrible abuse you've received, you're really just a young mare, trying to make her way in this harsh world. So help me help you – are those wings real?”
She thought for a moment before responding. I can only hope he's being sincere, though he's probably not... but I don't know who these ponies are except that they kill unicorns. If they keep treating me like one, things won't change. But they might treat an alicorn differently... Anything is better than this. So if I can get them to treat me differently... it can't get worse. She nodded.
“Are they taken off some poor pegasus?”
She shook her head.
“Did you grow them with some kind of magic?”
If it weren't for the gag, she would've bit a lip as she thought about it. I didn't grow them, no... Celestia gave them to me. As for what I should say... if I say I grew them, that'd make me a unicorn with some fleshcrafting magic, not really something they should treat totally differently, right? She shook her head again. It's true, anyways, I didn't 'grow' them...
He sighed, glancing away again for a moment to think, before turning back to her. “Well, you claim to be a true hybrid, at least. We'll find out the truth, and you will pay for it if you've lied to us. Heavily. Do you understand?”
She nodded rapidly.
“Well, I'm not so sure you do.” He produced a serrated knife from somewhere outside her vision, and brought its point down to her face.
She whimpered and recoiled, pushing her head back and away, stretching her neck out, but he only pressed deeper until it poked a small bit of blood out on the tip. She shrieked in panic, remembering the sawing on her horn. Her entire body shook as much as it could within her bonds. Her forehead throbbed as her heart raced.
His voice took on a malicious tone. “Oh, this is just the least of what we can do. Did you know it's possible to drown in your own blood?” he lifted the knife and laid its edge near her chest.
Her breathing was ragged and quick. What do you want from me!? What do you want from me!? Her cries were indecipherable through the gag.
“But that's a mercy compared to the kinds of stuff The Order can think up.” He gently ran the dull edge of the knife down her side, pulling the blanket down, until it arrived at her cloth garment at her hip, then ran it a little further down. She tried sitting up, but his other hoof quickly pinned her. She squirmed all she could but to no avail.
“You've had your horn cut off but that thing is numb compared to here, right?”
She yelled into her gag again, sobbing uncontrollably as the tiniest amount of pressure was applied on the knife on her hip.
He pulled the weapon away, the malice sapping out of his voice. “But, no, that's not what honor is about.” His hoof that pinned her shifted to her shoulder, and he again looked urgently straight into her eyes, desperation in his own.
As she blinked the tears away, she could see the knife was gone.
“That's what others will do to you if you've lied to us. But not me. I'm trying to keep you safe from that – so tell me straight, and tell me now if you've stolen those wings from a pegasus, grown them with your magic or if they're some kind of illusion or other trick. Tell me straight, alicorn – tell me straight! -” he repeatedly emphasized, “are they some pegasus' wings?!” he asked again.
She madly shook her head.
“I'm trying to save you from what they'll do to you if you're lying – even if you've lied to me now, that's fine, I don't care, but THEY WILL care, so tell me now and tell me honestly – are they fleshcrafted?!”
She furiously shook her head again.
“Are they an illusion of any kind?”
Again she shook her head.
“Are they grown out of magic?”
Yet again she shook her head vigorously.
“Were you born with them?”
And again, though this time, hesitantly, she shook her head.
He cursed and pounded a hoof on the metal floor.
“They are real, aren't they? And you're some kind of unicorn-pegasus hybrid?”
This time she nodded furiously, and said something else into her gag that was indecipherable and ignored. An alicorn! I'm an alicorn!
He groaned and sat down next to her coffin of a crate. He sighed, shaking his head, “This won't get far, will it? You said you're not born with them, yet you insist they're real. Then how did you get them? I'm not stupid enough to remove the gag off a magical creature... but let me make one thing, at least, very clear.”
He sat up and stood over her again, and she immediately felt the knife back under her chin. “There are ponies I will protect, that I am sworn to protect. If you were really trying to save your friend, then you understand risking your life for somepony else, and your very existence is a threat to those I protect. So when we do take off that gag, if you say or do anything, ever, that threatens the safety and well-being of the ponies of this world, I will teach you how – show you to new depths of pain you did not know existed. So you will never – I repeat never, do anything to put my ponies in danger – even if they ask you to die, if living puts them in danger -” He put the knife down by her thigh. She flinched. “then I will make you regret a choice to live. Got it? If it's your life or theirs, you die! Got it? Got it!?” He repeated.
She nodded furiously again, now crying.
He immediately removed the knife and sat back with a sigh. His voice sounded quieter now. “Good. Be a good pony and do what we say and you'll be fine.” There was some bitter undertone to his voice, though she barely heard it as she shivered in her coffin.
He reached down and put the blanket back over her face, then moved and sat a bit further away, falling quiet.
Long minutes, maybe hours passed of nothing but the train tracks clanking underneath, and her sobs finally calming down after a long time. She couldn't even move to wipe her tears.
The time was a small eternity that couldn't pass quickly enough. Her mind felt like a trainwreck of panic and helpless fear.
Finally, his voice broke the silence. At first she instinctively winced in fear, then she realized that his voice sounded almost broken. “What would you do to save your unicorn friend? You would risk your own life, you proved that by entering Delphi. But what if you knew you could die to save her? Would you do it?
“What if you had to kill some innocent young mare in order to save her? Would you do that?
“But what if you didn't have to kill one, just terrorize her, to save your friend, and save many others, too? What if you could fix everything wrong in the world just by terrorizing one filly? Would you do it?
“Honor is a funny thing, isn't it? It can be painful and hard for the pony who holds it, and everypony around him, but the right thing is always the right thing to do, no matter how hard.
“I have my sworn duty, pony. I will execute the governor's orders even if they're to torture you to death, in the name of honor, and surviving this Great Winter. If you've lied to us, then that's what my orders will probably be. But life must go on, despite this horror you've brought on us all. But luckily for you, you may play a special role in all this.”
Is he – is he sorry for what he did to me?
He stood up, lifted her box back onto the other crate, closed the lid and locked it again. She could hear him walking away.
But – would he actually do all that? She didn't want to remember the feeling of the cold steel of the knife's edge against her body – but she couldn't fight the memory as it flashed back into her mind, as unable to shrink away from it now as she was unable to break free. It was threatening her, teasing her with its serrated edge she'd already felt saw through her horn.
The footsteps stopped a moment after she heard the door click open, and he talked back to her again, “but don't hesitate for one moment to believe that I would be willing to do all of that and more for the safety of the pony race. All of your terror and agony means nothing to the collective survival of every living pony.”
She heard the door shut, leaving her alone again.