>Enter alone with Redwood and attempt to negotiate a peace.
I'm profoundly uneasy as I step into the East Side Orphanage, taking in the dust and cobwebs on the ceiling, the peeling grey wallpaper, and the line of colts and fillies pointing spears and crossbows at me. I stop in the middle of the hallway and remain still as one of the bigger kids, a teenager, pats me down for weapons. The door creaks eerily as somepony else closes it behind me. The sound of buzzing flies attracts my attention to a dingy corner of the room, where I see the foals have stacked up a pile of Sunheart corpses, still in their bloodied armour.
I see we're off to a good start.
The colt searches through my saddlebags, and I sigh with exasperation at the indignity. I don't even want to negotiate with these little demons in the first place, nor do I have to. Militarily, we already have them beaten. Victory at this point would only be a matter of starving them out or firebombing the building. It would be easy. But I promised Killjoy I'd play nice with the orphans, so here we are.
The colt finishes searching me and moves on to Redwood, who, now out of the rain and away from Candy's troops, has stopped trembling and clinging to my leg. The colt doesn't take long with her, mostly because she isn't wearing anything, but given how much convincing I needed to do just to bring her in with me, one would think that they'd be more thorough. They were adamant that I come in alone, likely suspecting some kind of trick, but as I pointed out to their leader, I can hardly trust my daughter's wellbeing to a pack of degenerates like Candy's lot, and he seemed to sympathise with her or something. Maybe that's why they're paying so little attention to her.
Of course, I could have simply told him that I intend to foist her off on them, but that would have tipped my hoof early. If I play this right, I can make it sound like they're the ones benefiting from such an arrangement. Either way, it was vital that I got Redwood inside with me, both so that I can deliver her safely to her new home, and so that I can benefit from her victory talent in the negotiations if at all possible.
The colt who searched me and Redwood beckons us to follow him down the hall. The foals with the spears and crossbows part to make way for us, and then follow at our sides as we head deeper into the dingy building.
At first, they're just creepily silent; then they begin creepily humming in unison. I feel that sense of unease again, and it only becomes all the worse as their humming transitions into a surprisingly upbeat and jaunty tune, which they bounce in time with as they follow along with us. Worry transitions into sheer dread, and I finally let out a pained groan when the air suddenly fills with the sound of musical instruments from an unknown source, matching their tune. It's exactly as I feared. They're starting a heartsong.
I'm terrible at heartsongs.
"Oh, once our days were win'try cold, with not a hope in sight!
We orphans had no songs to sing, no laughter and no light!
We broke our fast on moldy bread, and supp'd on worms at night!
And when we laid ourselves to sleep, our dreams were full of fright!
"But now our lives are filled with cheer! We laugh, we dance, we sing!
We gorge ourselves on cakes and sweets, and every day is spring!
The future's looking mighty bright, we'll soon run everything!
We'll buy and sell this wretched town, thanks to—"
"The urchin kings?" I interrupt, rolling my eyes.
The orphans gasp and cease their bouncing, surrounding Redwood and I. Immediately, I cringe. Not because I've drawn their ire, or offended them, but because I just rhymed, when all I was trying to do was interrupt the song before it really got going.
Well, maybe they didn't notice.
"Dad, you rhymed!" says Redwood.
"I will truss you up and personally serve you to Free Candy on a velvet pillow!" I hiss back at her.
That seems to do it. For about five seconds, anyway, before the music picks back up and the foals are bouncing again. We're nudged forward, as their bouncing turns to prancing. They gambol around us, between us, over us, and under us, abandoning any semblance of military formation, much to my disgust. Redwood's grinning now, and her wings thump like the happy wagging of a dog's tail as she bobs and weaves through the air, totally caught up in the heartsong. I wonder how badly diluted my genetics are.
"Sunheart's talking naughty, that foul, flea-bitten whore!
If he wants to sue for peace, he should respect us more!"
I growl back.
"Sunheart’s lost his patience! He's long since gotten bored!
It may be peace he's after, but he's just fine with war!"
My threat's greeted with laughter, though a few of the younger foals bounce a little further away from Redwood and I. The older ones still sneer and sing at me.
"Sunheart likes to talk all tough, but we all know the truth!
We stuck him like a pincushion! He's frightened of the youth!"
I scoff.
"Frightened? More like sickened; I hate dancing, rhymes, and songs!
Heartsongs just plain bother me! They drag on for way too long!"
As the song winds down, we finally come to the end of the hall, and our escorts stop before a pair of large oaken doors, pitted with rot and marked with a sign reading "cafeteria." The foals line up in front of the door, together, with a flourish.
"Time to meet the orphan kings! Cheer up – our song has ceased!
They'll bandy words about with you, and afterwards, we'll feast!
Remember all your courtesies! Please kneel, or bow at least."
They part into two ranks, still grinning, and throw open the doors. A chill descends on me as I step through, mumbling the last lines.
"Sunheart's gone and walked into the belly of the beast."
Well, that was painful, and literally ended on an ominous note, but at least it was quick. Redwood disagrees, as she claps her hooves rapidly and cheerfully, until I silence her with a withering glare. She drops back down to the floor, folding her wings and looking again like a lost little filly in way over her head. Which is how I prefer it.
"...Dad?" she says, in a tiny voice. "That song just now, with the dancing, and the instruments out of nowhere... What was... I mean, how did...?"
She trails off. I blink, incredulous.
"Are you kidding me? You grew up in Equestria; this land is lousy with ponies breaking into spontaneous musical numbers. All that happiness, and harmony... You've seriously never heard a heartsong before?"
"Well, you've met my mom," Redwood mutters.
I shrug, conceding the point. It's not necessarily a given that one will always get swept up in the music of harmony, even here in the Heartland. I mostly don't; my own emotions are usually too discordant, and my voice too rough (my sister once described my singing as being akin to a dog trying to howl through a throatful of broken glass). Still, it happens here from time to time. It's one of those little annoyances of working in the Heartland. This kind of shit doesn't happen out in the Hooviet Union or Minos; they're all too miserable for it.
Curious that the same is not true of Dragonfall.
"Don't worry too much about how or why," I tell Redwood. "They just happen sometimes, and they're always awful. It's always best to avoid getting swept up in them, and to wait until they go away. Failing that, just be as much of a drag as you can be."
The ranks close behind Redwood and I, and the foals pull the doors shut. They urge us forward, into the orphanage's lunch hall, keeping pace all the while. The room is more or less what I expected. A few bookshelves and dusty pictures line the grey walls, bench tables full of messy plates and cutlery fill the middle of the room, and at the back is an open door through which I can see the kitchen. It's mostly fairly normal. Except, of course, for the stage at the far end, and the two enormous carved wooden thrones upon it, painted a golden yellow.
Two young stallions lounge upon the thrones, cushioned by royal purple velvet pillows. They look like twins: teenaged unicorns with yellow coats and two-toned manes of red and white that remind me of Candy's. Both grin as we cross the room, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. I get the sinking feeling that I'm about to be annoyed again.
"Why hello, my good sir!" says the twin on the right.
"And welcome to our fine orphanage!" says the one on the left.
They gesture to each other.
"He's Flim!"
"He's Flam!"
"And we're—" they start to say in unison, before I cut them off.
"No. I can tell where this is going, and if I have to endure a second song here today, I swear to Celestia I will call in an airstrike right now and kill us all."
The twins deflate somewhat, but their annoyingly cheerful demeanours remain.
"Well, that's a little overdramatic, don't you think, oh brother of mine?" says the one on the left.
"Indubitably, Flim! But the lieutenant isn't here for our song and dance!"
"Quite right, Flam! He's a discerning stallion, here to negotiate!"
"To barter and broker for an end to this conflict!"
"This tragic, ghastly conflict!"
I sigh, wishing I had just ordered the soldiers to burn this place down.
"Look, it's very simple. You don't want us to bomb your orphanage down to the bloody bedrock, and we don't want to get shivved by street urchins. Fighting doesn't help either one of us, so if you're willing to call it quits, so are we."
The twins exchange a look and nod in unison.
"Fair," says Flam, stroking his chin. "Very fair. But let's not forget, we here are fighting a war of defence against Sunheart aggression!"
"Oh, yes!" Flim agrees, grinning, as he wags his hoof at me. "We'd all welcome an end to the fighting, but what good does it do us if it means we're left to the tender mercies of the gentlecolts outside?"
I restrain myself from openly grumbling.
"If it's the safety of your charges you're concerned about, I can talk to the Captain about possibly rotating the district's current platoon out of here, maybe trade them for one that's not full of sex offenders. Frankly, I don't know why we didn't do it that way in the first place."
Aside from the obvious reason of Blackheart's general incompetence, of course. Candy's platoon would have been much better placed on sewer patrol or prison duty, someplace where they would have no opportunity to interact with children.
"Well, that sounds quite reasonable to me!" says Flim, brightly. "What do you think, Flam?"
"Oh, I'm not sure, Flim..." Flam shakes his head with mock seriousness. "That's a good start, to be sure, but let us not forget the matter of reparations."
Flim nods gravely. "Reparations, yes, of course."
"For damages done."
"Mental trauma inflicted."
"And injuries, of course!"
"Just to smooth over the deal, so we know that the Sunheart Company are coming from a place of authenticity."
I blink, staring at the brothers with mouth agape.
"Are... Are you two for real?" I look over to Redwood. "Does this sound as insane to you as it does to me?"
The girl shrugs her wings. "I'm just waiting for everypony to start singing again."
"Now, now, I think a small sum in compensation is the least the Sunhearts can do for us," says Flam. "We all have social responsibilities, of course."
"Why, you wouldn't leave all these innocent foals to twist in the wind after all your company has done to us, would you?"
Flim gestures behind me. I look back to find the foals who escorted us in gathered there, now mysteriously absent their weapons, and giving wide-eyed, exaggerated puppy-dog looks.
I turn back to Flim and Flam with a glare.
"Yes," I say, pointing a hoof at them. "Because taking care of you little bastards is not my problem, and a ceasefire with no further reprisals is already extremely generous after how many of our troops you've killed!"
"Killed in self-defence, because of Sunheart aggression," says Flim, raising a hoof in protest.
Flam nods sagely. "Nasty business."
"Terrible, really."
"Tragic."
"But sadly necessary."
"Oh, don't try to play the victim with me, you two-bit con-artists." I roll my eyes. "One of your little monsters stabbed me out of the blue just a couple of days ago! I wasn't even doing anything! They approached me!"
"And yet, you're alive!" Flam points out.
"Which you wouldn't be had we intended otherwise, we promise you," Flim adds, far too cheerfully for my liking.
"No reparations," I reiterate. "But the ceasefire is on the table if you're willing. Otherwise, we can just go ahead with Operation: Bomb the Shit Out of the East Side Orphanage. I'm sure you can guess what that one entails."
The brothers exchange another look and cross their hooves. Flim clicks his tongue.
"The pony drives a hard bargain, brother of mine. What say you?"
"Hmmm," Flam rubs his chin again. "I'm tempted, dear brother, but there is one other matter."
"Ah, yes of course! How could I forget?"
I feel my eye twitching, and have to stop myself from jumping up on the stage and strangling the two of them.
"You see, there's a further conundrum, my good stallion," says Flam.
"The matter of the Dragonfall Mob."
Suddenly the brothers have my full attention.
"Wait, the mob? What about them?"
"The East Side Orphanage has had some... hostilities, shall we say, with the mob for the past few years," Flam explains.
"Owing to them perhaps being slightly mad at the two of us for maybe—"
"Possibly—"
"Conceivably—"
"Accidentally..."
"...Scamming them out of thousands of bits in a complicated scheme involving watered down apple whiskey."
"Which went way further than either of us ever intended."
I stare at the two of them, incredulous. After I fail to respond, Flam clears his throat and continues.
"Well, anyway, the Dragonfall Mob have always held power in this city by paying off officials. And since the late Mayor Stonewall..."
"May he rest in peace."
"...Hired the Sunhearts to replace the old city guard..."
"May they rest in peace."
"...It stands to reason that they would want to pay off the Sunhearts to be their collaborators and enforcers for the duration of your contract."
Flim shakes his head. "So alas, any peace we achieve today may not last tomorrow if the Sunhearts take the mob's side in our little gang war."
"Unless, of course, the Sunhearts can promise that this will not be the case."
Celestia damn it all, I do not need this.
The plan was so simple to begin with. All I had to do was find a fake candidate to win the election and get us out of the contract, or, failing that, just negotiate with whoever did win. Then everything just went wrong. I've got the Dragonfall Mob expecting me to take over the Sunhearts and stay in the city to play corrupt cop for them. I've got Killjoy in charge instead, drawing who knows what reaction from Crackshot and his bosses. My own platoon is gone, leaving me only an amorphous mass of slime and a gang of bandits of questionable intelligence. I've got Hoofler to worry about. And now there's these thrice-damned orphans, who apparently won't stop harassing us unless I agree to double-cross a ruthless criminal syndicate for them.
Trying not to openly seethe, I turn away from the brothers and beckon Redwood to come closer. She gives me a worried look, but obeys. I lean down to whisper to her.
"Okay, you're up, kid."
The girl goes bug-eyed. "What?"
"I can't deal with these two. The more they speak, the worse it gets. You need to negotiate with them for me."
"What?!" Redwood squeaks. I shush her, and she returns to whispering. "I can't do that!"
I quickly shoot an insincere grin to the now-quizzically staring Flim and Flam, before coming nose-to-nose with Redwood. "Look, I promised Killjoy I'd negotiate a peace, but I just can't do it. I'm depending on you now. Use that victory talent of yours. It's gotta be good for something."
"I-I... um..."
Uh-oh. I recognise that look she's got. That's the look of a pony with an embarrassing confession to make.
"...What?" I say, sternly.
"I... uh..." Redwood wilts slightly. "M-My talent isn't actually victory... It's... winning at games and stuff. You know... like... Battlecloud?"
I stare at her.
"...Battlecloud," I say slowly, through gritted teeth.
"Mmhmm!" The filly nods, now smiling, oblivious to my building rage. "As long as I know the rules, I can beat almost anypony at any game! But... my special talent isn't any good for big important stuff like this..."
I blink rapidly. I shake my head. I try to speak, but no words come out, and instead I break down into angry spluttering. Finally, I scream in her face at the top of my lungs.
"WELL THEN WHAT THE HELL'S THE POINT OF YOU?!"
WHAT NEXT?:
1. Agree to betray the Dragonfall Mob and secure peace with the orphans.
2. Stay with the mob for now, and leave to let the siege continue.
3. Attempt to sell Redwood to Flim and Flam in exchange for peace.