Astilbe collapsed onto the wooden floor just outside the door of the room Pinkie was locked in. She trembled.
“I am sorry the truth is so bitter. But let me ask – now what shall we do? Would you follow in the footsteps of Lionheart? Or do you desire justice for what you have seen?” Jewel calmly asked her.
“Why!? Why – why did they do that!? She didn't even fight back – couldn't they see she wasn't trying to hurt them!?” she cried.
“You know why. Because some of them were afraid. Because a glorious and kind leader would rob them of power, and they didn't trust her to handle the power well. They didn't believe she could save them. But most of all because they saw her as a threat to their unrighteous dominion,” she explained.
“How – how could they all be so blind! She – she was only trying to help but he – they!...”
“Poisoned her fruits. And this is the burden I have carried for almost a thousand years, little pony. Knowing your world was formed from the ashes of such intolerable, inexcusable sin. Like hungry wolves your kind prowls for victims. But I respect her request. I honor her promise to not give your world what it deserves. But let me ask you this – if this will never end, if this is the nature of your kind, then shall it continue? Would the end not be a mercy to it and its horror? The time is soon upon us for the righteous to inherit the Earth. But first The End must come. How does that feel, Astilbe?
“Every day this tragedy I have shown you is repeated a hundred times. Has the time not come for these horrors to end? Nevermind whatever answer you may speak. Your actions and choices shall answer for me.”
Astilbe just kept crying on the floor for several long minutes, before she finally realized the unicorn – Jewel – had been silent. Blinking her eyes clear of tears, she looked around. She was alone again.
She sat up on her hindquarters.
H-how did that hit me so hard? I've seen public executions before – I've seen ponies die. But that... I knew her. I could feel that she was a good pony. And she worked so hard for them...
After another minute to calm down, she finally regained herself enough to remember what she was doing. Sniffing, she got a key out of one of her pockets, and finally opened the door to the science equipment storage room.
The room was meant to keep state-of-the-art machines for science for shows of wonder occasionally put on at the theater. It was kept under lock and key to keep the expensive equipment safe and out of the wrong hooves. But now it housed another secret, one kept by what the state would've called “the wrong hooves”.
As she opened the door, she jumped backwards as Pinkie greeted her – as usual, wearing the loosest, comfiest and fluffiest clothes she could find – a pyjama dress too big for her and a lounging robe over it, “Hey! Thank goodness you opened the door it hurt so bad – it was so hard to hear you crying out there and not be able to give you a hug!” She darted forward and wrapped Astilbe in her hooves.
“Oh! - oh. Thanks, uh, other me.” Her expression softened and she returned the hug.
The emotional whiplash hit hard, but it was difficult to be cold next to such a warm pony.
“It was so hard to be quiet the whole time but you said how important it was to never make a peep in there when there are ponies around no matter who it is and a Pinkie Promise is a promise I'll keep!” she emphasized with another squeeze of her hug. “So what's the matter, someone could've saved the world?” she asked, her tone softening to something more gentle.
“She – she was making food that could grow – Or at least trying to – in ice, in the night, if only... It was complicated, but... they...” she hesitated, looking up at the huge, innocent eyes of her Equestrian counterpart.
She didn't want to hurt them with what she'd learned – the truth of the role of the pony she'd taken on the stage.
“What did they do?” Pinkie pressed.
“N-nevermind that, just uh...” she averted her eyes for another brief moment, then looked back at her, “they – ponies can be terrible sometimes. I've dedicated everything – I've put my life on the line a lot – and it'll probably end me one day – how I keep risking myself to give them the truth, to help them break free of what they do to each other – but maybe... what if they don't want to break free? What if they just – they just refuse to be good enough for spring to come?”
Astilbe let go of the hug, then put her hoof up and started steering Pinkie back into the restricted room where she was safe.
“Well that's silly,” Pinkie answered, “of course ponies are good enough to not have the windigos constantly ruining everything. Just look at Equestria! We solved that a long time ago!”
Astilbe closed the door behind them and paused. Twilight was incredibly powerful and an alicorn. So... that means they really are from Equestria, right?
But if ponies behave like how Jewel showed me – then – is it really possible for them to be good enough for Equestria to happen?
What's wrong with the ponies in our world that they're so much worse?
Pinkie piped up again, interrupting the moment of silence, “Oh, uh – I had something for you, if you just wait one moment...” she began a happy, skipping canter around a wall of equipment, machines, and crates of supplies that blocked the door from view of the rest of the room.
Snapping out of her thoughts, she realized Pinkie was practically bouncing around. “Uh – shouldn't you take it kind of slow?”
The peppy pony immediately stopped, she turned around to look at Astilbe, as if considering her words, then suddenly her pupils shrank. “Oh right,” she said in a squeaky voice, gritting her teeth. “It doesn't hurt much at first. But it hurts a lot more very quickly when I go spronking.”
Astilbe rushed over to help brace her. She offered a hoof, and let the recovering pony lean on her. “Spronking?”
“Yeah. The fun way to walk. I'm sorry I'm being such a party pooper...” she apologized, her ears folding down a little further as the other mare helped her walk around the wall of storage crates.
“A party poo-?” As they rounded the corner, Astilbe stopped talking.
Before Twilight left, she'd requested paper, ink and quills. Pinkie had clearly made use of all three.
Some sheets had tic-tac-toe markings on them. One looked like she'd meticulously copied the board of some board game from a flawless photographic memory of it, with a few smaller scraps of paper sitting around it.
And in the center of the room, a picture of a cake with some candles had been drawn and set on a table that'd been moved there, with pillows on each side to sit on.
Astilbe couldn't even remember there being a table in the room, but given the cluttered mess that lined the walls, it didn't surprise her that she'd found one.
“Wh-what is this?” she asked in disbelief.
“A party!” Pinkie said with a grin beaming through her wave of pain. “I heard a lot of loud applause upstairs so you must've done a good job at the play! And I never got to thank you before for taking me and my friends in!...” her excitement melted into sorrow on her last few words, before she shook it off and revitalized, “So uh, surprise! Thank you for saving me and my friends and letting us stay somewhere! And congratulations on a great performance! Are you surprised, are you, are you!? What role did you play, anyways?” the words poured out in a stream of excitement – and she could feel her bouncing, even as she leaned against her.
“Uh – yeah, I'm – I'm definitely surprised,” she answered honestly, her voice proving the truth of her words. After what she had just seen with the unicorn – it was hard to greet the surprise party with the joy it deserved. But instead, it did something else. She felt something sharp and painful within her melt away – as though she were waking up from a nightmare, her mind began to relax.
She felt weak again – but now for the opposite reason as before. “So – how do I – we...? - wait, this must have really hurt you to make!” Her look of surprise was renewed.
“I've been drawing these ever since you told me you had a big play today! I'm sorry I don't have any actual cake or anything, though...” she apologized. “But the board games and tic-tac-toe will still work!”
“So – is that why you've been moving around so much you hurt yourself? Is setting all this up?” Astilbe pressed.
Pinkie averted her look, her grin taking on a nervous look. “Eheheh...”
“Pinkie, I – … Well that explains that! Earlier you said you were fine and now you're hurting again! You over-exerted yourself, didn't you? Moving the table and your mattress around?”
“Mhmm.” She nodded, her nervous grin turning into a guilty frown.
“Well, I'm glad you're not hurting just from moving around again... You should be careful. Not even my medical-practiced friend could figure out why you were hurting after what happened. We just don't know anything about unicorn magic medicine. But...” she paused as she saw the innocent pony's joy melt. Guilt stabbed at her for lecturing her.
She turned and gave Pinkie a gentle hug. “Thanks for setting this all up for me! I love it! There's a little kitchen in a break-room. Do you want to bake a real cake with me? Then we can play games and have a little slumber party if you like.” She gave her alternate self a smile she thought she'd appreciate.
She deserves it after doing all this for me.
“I'd love to!” She beamed back.
Astilbe could tell there was something deeper to the smile, though.
I'm sorry. It must feel so lonely to have come here with two friends you spent all your time in this room with, and now you're all alone...
“Okay, but if we run into the janitor or anypony, you gotta let me do all the talking, okay? We'll pretend it's some sort of makeup act or something to make us look just like eachother,” she briefed her Equestrian friend.
“Okay!” she nodded, then paused. “But uh, your mane isn't quite as poofy as mine!” she pointed out.
“That works even better, silly filly. Now come on, let's go bake a cake!”
Maybe ponies can be terrible.
Maybe the world can be a horrible, horrible place...
But you're not. And I'm not going to let them distract me from you when you need me.
And maybe I need you to remind me that sometimes...
ponies aren't so bad.
It was the sergeant's turn to be on watch.
As he stood just outside the tent, looking around, listening, the constant cold wind trying to chew through his thick coats, he thought.
We haven't seen a patrol aircraft yet. I doubt they aren't searching – it means we're still outside their search front. They'll roll over us far too soon.
The Victoria's been hit, and can't pick us up.
We have too few supplies to make it back on hoof.
If only those wizards had re-discovered the secret of teleportation, we wouldn't have this issue... the idle thought passed by.
No matter. Rarity claimed Twilight could do all kinds of powerful magic, but that means little now that her horn is gone. We just have to make it back to Bastion, and maybe all this powerful magic stuff will be enough to change things.
He shivered as he remembered the still, open, lifeless, frozen eyes of Iron Star's body on the ice.
He could imagine Snowglade's just the same.
Just as still as she'd been when she was shot.
We have to get back to Bastion. But we don't have the supplies to make it like this.
There's East Shades just to the north, but it's right along the railway, and doubtlessly the operating base of the escort and search operations.
No, I'm not going to risk their lives in a pointless raid. We have enough supplies if we had two less ponies. The last bit of the journey would be a stretch, but they could make it back to the nearest base.
I know some interrogation techniques. If the governor will talk, I'll make her talk, and we'll get everything we need out of her. But Twilight and Rarity may be even more important to the war, and capturing the governor alive was only secondary. Killing her still removes her from her office.
And if I don't, we'll all starve to death, anyways, or won't have the energy and warmth to make it back alive.
As for the second pony... I can't ask any of them to die.
But maybe my time has come. I'm in charge. They can't tell me no. I can put Clockwork in charge and order him back to Neighagra camp. If I break off and attack the East Shades airbase alone, it will make it look like the attack was conducted by a single agent – myself. They'd never think a Cerulean sentinel team would break up. It's unheard of.
I could even carry a snip of the governor's mane or something of hers to prove I killed her. Maybe even her head. It would resolve the entire Vanguard's search – they'd have their governor, and the one who killed her. And my team would be safe.
His heart began to pick up pace as he thought about committing to the plan.
Is this it, then? I guess it's finally here. It's finally time.
I can finally die as they did.
I lived, and they died, and now I can die as I should have – right alongside them in combat against The Vanguard. It's the closest I can give to an apology. I can't forget them. I will never know peace until I die as they did – I'll do it as an apology that they died and I lived.
I owe it to them. A leader should never ask his ponies to do something he wouldn't do, himself. It's because I didn't kill some random civilians that they died. I won't make that mistake again. But it won't even be an innocent pony, this time. I'll squeeze what I can get out of the governor, report it to my team, then head off on this suicide mission of diversion. I'll even carry some supplies – I have to make this look believable.
What about the tent? I'll take some of the extra poles from ours and the bedsheets. Hopefully that'll be enough to look like some strange Cerulean camping technique.
So that's it, then.
It's time to die, governor.
And after that, I can join those I left behind.
And Snowglade, Clockwork, Gratitude – they can go home. And so can Rarity and Twilight – and maybe even end this terrible war so no more ponies have to die like this.
So it can all finally be over.
He nodded to himself.
It's the only way to get them home alive, and losing another team is not an option.
The tent was stuffed now with the two new ponies – mares were piled on one side and stallions on the other. It made it unusually warm, so fortunately all the blankets were enough to make up for the lack of extra sleeping bags.
The trace of some horrid smell still lingered. When they'd first set up the tent, Gratitude wanted some time inside alone with Snowglade before letting the rest of them in. So they waited outside while the sergeant yelled and cursed at some radio equipment with Clockwork.
Normally Rarity would've complained endlessly at the trace of the stench that was some mix of blood and outhouse, but she didn't have the energy now – and she didn't want to complain about something that was there only because Snowglade was still alive.
While it wasn't nearly as comfortable as her bed in her home portion of Carousel Boutique, Rarity found it surprisingly comfortable to sleep in a group – all the while feeling Snowglade's gentle breathing by her side.
She could feel the governor sleeping in a sleeping bag next to her, near the middle of the tent, and Twilight who she laid mostly on top of.
Normally, she would've been uncomfortable at the violation of personal space, or complained at how she could feel the rope that tied the governor sharp against her side in her sleep. But everything considered, she was just thankful to rest, and comforted feeling safe in the tent with her friends.
They'd put the governor in a sleeping bag then tied it down, trapping her hooves to her sides and trapping her inside – not that any attempt to escape or grab one of the rifles wouldn't have woken everypony up, anyways, given how crowded the tent was, but the sergeant was adamant about the team's safety.
Rarity woke to the feeling of an icy wind washing over her as the door zipped open, and the rustling of thick winter gear made it clear it was another shift change – only this time, the pony didn't immediately take off the heavy gear and beckon somepony else.
Instead, she heard him rustling through some supply bags, before feeling the rope at her side slide away.
At this, her ears perked up. She groggily rose and turned.
“Up and at'em sweetiecakes,” the sergeant whispered, rousing the governor from her sleep by shaking her shoulder and calling her by the mocking nickname.
She looked up at the sergeant, “what's going on?” she kept her voice low while everypony else slept.
“We're going for a little walk,” he explained, his voice a little more cheery than usual in an unsettling way. She sensed there was a darker veiled meaning behind what he said. He held some basic clothing for going out – boots, an under-jacket, one of the newly acquired blankets, a scarf and a hat.
“What... for? Can I come along?” she asked groggily, slowly coming to her senses as the governor yawned and sat up. It's painfully difficult to wake up without sunlight... But I want to make sure he doesn't do anything, given how badly everypony was talking about this version of Rainbow Dash.
“You need to sleep. But you,” he addressed the prisoner, “are going to put this on and come with me.” He tossed all the gear at her hooves.
Spectrum had one ear up and the other limp, with her head resting at a slight angle. Clearly exhausted, she took the boots and started putting them on. After yesterday she'd learned better than to ask questions or object.
“I – I can't sleep while she's out and about. So why don't I come along?” Rarity pressed.
“Because I said no,” his tone gave no hint of any uncertainty.
Rarity simply pursed her lips. “Hrm.”
He looked straight at her, then put a hoof on Clockwork's shoulder, rousing him from his sleep as well, “Lieutenant, keep an eye on Grandeur. I need you to make sure she stays in this tent while I'm gone, understood?”
He sprang up, “Yessir! - keep Grandeur in the tent, will-do.”
As he spoke, Spectrum finished putting on the coat that had no wing-holes, only for the sergeant to throw a rope around her body and tie her wings down underneath the coat.
Clockwork took his rifle, and started working with the fire-sleeve to strap a pistol to his hoof.
“It's not like you didn't clip her wings already...” Rarity mumbled.
“I don't need your commentary, Grandeur,” he shot back at her as he worked. As he finished, he pulled a loose slipknot over the prisoner's head. Her eyes went wide and she went stiff on seeing it. She felt the rope around her neck with one of her forelegs.
“Don't play with your leads, little pegasus, or you're going to have an even worse time. Now lead the way,” he commanded.
She looked back at him, fear in her eyes.
Rarity's unease was only made worse – the governor wasn't fully dressed for the cold. The jacket was a light undercoat.
She felt her heart racing as her need to act battled her fear and respect for the ponies who had saved her – to whom she'd made a promise to obey, and whom she doubted she could overpower. At least, not while he's still here... She glanced at Clockwork. He already had his rifle ready and pistol on his hoof for the sudden watch duty.
At seeing the prisoner's reluctance, the sergeant spoke again, “you want to see what happens if I have to ask you again, little princess?” he threatened, his voice seething.
She shakily started zipping open the entrance, “I-I, I'm going.” She hurried out, and he followed close behind, all the while the freezing outside air blew in, making Rarity and Snowglade both shiver before the sergeant closed the door behind them from outside.
Rarity looked down at her hooves. Her forehoof still had the enormous, terrible crack in it from her arrival in this world. Will I ever walk on it again without a limp?
Will this other version of Rainbow ever fly again?
“You know she's a mass-murderer, right?” Clockwork whispered to her.
“You and the rest of your team only said as much a dozen times last night...” she responded as quietly, but her irritation obvious.
“Well you keep seeming to sympathize with her. I don't get it. He could torture and rape her for all I care -”
She visibly recoiled at the suggestion, disgust on her face as he continued,
“Well, maybe the latter would be bad form, but she deserves a lot worse than that. No matter what he does to her it can't be what she deserves. I really don't think you understand what terrible things she's done.”
She looked down at the floor of the tent, her ears slightly folding as she pondered what he said. Could that really be true? I've never thought much about it. If ponies commit crimes – well, usually there's something wrong with them and they need correction – to be locked away until they're better so they're safe to live among ponies again. But... Equestria may have done away with killing ponies – but have these ponies done the same?
There's no doubt the ponies back in that city I came from wanted to kill me and I haven't even done anything. I assumed these ponies were better because they saved me – but – maybe they're not as great as I thought...
She hesitantly asked, “You – you don't think he's going to?...”
“I'm not gonna guess. Not my place,” he simply answered.
“Is it possible? Why – what did she do, exactly?” she pressed.
He scoffed. “Of course it's possible. He might be giving her a medal for all we know. But that's unlikely, to say the least...”
- What's unlikely, the medal or killing her? -
“and what does it matter the details of what she did? Mostly she froze huge numbers of innocent ponies to death out here in the abyss, by the train load. You ever seen a pony freeze to death? Now imagine that but for almost two hundred thousand...” he mused.
She shivered, her eyes suddenly going wide. N-no, Rainbow would never! I don't care if it's some alternate version of her or what – Snowglade wouldn't do that, and neither would this 'governor Spectrum' – they must be mistaken!
Then he glanced at her horn. “And if things were different, and you were her prisoner, she'd have you publicly tortured and then executed to entertain a crowd. That's what The Vanguard does with unicorns. Sick freaks.”
She simply bit her tongue instead of speaking out. She knew a thing or two about manipulation and discretion. She wasn't going to reveal that she still planned to escape.
Her disturbed look faded as she steeled herself to set to her task. I could say I need to relieve myself, but he might still not let me out of the tent. She shivered at the thought. Camping in Equestria wasn't like this.
Camping in Equestria wasn't like camping with an army at the north pole in winter, either, though... a more rational voice replied, only to be promptly ignored.
At any rate, if I ask now, it'll be too obvious... But what other choices do I have? Seduction? In this crowded tent? The mere thought made her feel sick.
She felt what to do next, more than planning or thinking. After a moment of thinking to herself, she lowered her head, her ears folding back. “Oh...” Her voice heavy and her expression sad, she looked to him again. “But perhaps you've realized by now that that's... Well, I remember her as an old friend. I only wish I could at least tell her goodbye. I don't remember her as a killer at all. Just a... very loyal pony...”
He simply looked at her, cocking an unimpressed eyebrow.
This isn't working! Wait a second! - “Wait – then what are all these rifles for? Aren't they for killing ponies? And didn't I...” a memory flashed back – she remembered hearing the gunshots in the train attack. They must've killed somepony there.
He answered in a flat, factual tone, “They're for ponies who would kill us all. We only use them to survive against The Vanguard's tyranny. Some things – like being under their rule – are worse than death. But what she did? Totally unnecessary. Unarmed stallions, mares... All on groundless accusations or because they said things against their occupation of Delphi. They invaded, slaughtered, and then slaughtered again just for good measure.”
I – I don't believe that! I don't think for one second Rainbow Dash is capable! He isn't budging, and I'm running out of time! Ugh, what am I going to do!? I could try batting my eyes and begging, but – would that really work better than the other lame excuse? She hadn't applied makeup in days, and she could feel her mane was a total, greasy lost cause of a mess that made her halfway consider shaving it and wearing a wig when she got to Bastion.
“Well, uh, just so nervous thinking of what he'll do to her out there – I do somewhat need to use the uh, little filly's room.”
“The medic already showed you how, I know,” he stepped to the corner of the tent to start rummaging through the bags, producing the thin curtain, funnel and a container they used for at-night necessities.
She took them all out of his hooves with her magic, a slight blush coming over her with a small uncomfortable laugh as she took a careful step towards the entrance of the tent. “Well, uh, I'd kinda rather not do it over sleeping ponies, so uhm, do be a dear and uh -”
“Then use the corner. Just don't cover up the entrance or I'll ask Snowglade to watch you.” He moved to the more crowded side where Twilight and Snowglade slept. Snowglade laid on top of Gratitude, since she was smaller, injured, and they had physically run out of room in the tent.
“Oh, uh, well, the corner's much too small – but really, Snowglade is injured and needs -”
He reached down, pausing before he shook Snowglade's right shoulder, and just tapped her head, instead. “Specialist, you're needed.”
“H-hmm, yes?” she asked, sitting up and awake.
“I've got explicit and direct orders from the sarge to make sure she stays in the tent, but she insists on using the funnel by the entrance to the tent, so keep an eye on the mare, for me?”
Well, if anypony is going to let me go, it's her.
Snowglade nodded. “Yessir.” She carefully, painstakingly slipped off of Gratitude without waking her up by rolling into the space Rarity and Spectrum had left open.
She'd slept with the peytral on. Her breathing was less strained than last night, and she showed little sign of her earlier injury. She maneuvered closer to Rarity, then looked up at her. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go ahead and set the curtain up.” Despite how quickly she'd sprung off of her living bed, it was obvious from her voice she was still exhausted and eager to get back to sleep.
Rarity groaned, using her magic to unfold then hook the curtain on the tent's roof poles.
Now that she and her sister were outside of the pegasus guard's view, she turned to Snowglade and nodded her head towards the exit.
Her otherworldly soldier of a sister just gave her a deadpan glare and shook her head, and pointed her hoof at the accessories she'd been given; the funnel and container.
Rarity began to fume and re-emphasized the motion even harder.
Snowglade groaned. “Ugh, I thought – yeah, Gratitude showed you how to use those, right?” she asked.
“Uh – yeah, just...” she put a hoof to her lips, signaling for her little sister to be quiet, and silently mouthed, “I have to escape to save Rainbow Dash.”
The unicorn soldier sighed and firmly shook her head.
“Fine!” Rarity snapped back as her patience finally broke, her magic tearing the curtain out of the clothespins holding it up, “but I've had enough of this! I'm not letting him hurt her!” she finally burst out, no longer whispering.
In another fell swoop, she pulled her set of winter gear out of her bags, using years of experience with garments to magic them all on herself in an instant.
“Yeah, you are!” Clockwork shot back with a stern yell, raising his pistol at her, the rifle laying at his hooves.
Rarity turned around and froze. It wasn't a rifle where she could easily take the tip and point it away with telekinesis – she wasn't even sure if he'd shoot the moment she tried to grab it, either, so she froze.
“Hold it, lieutenant, I'm not losing Grandeur again – I don't care if she's 'just' Rarity, or who or what threatens her – don't you dare shoot her!” Snowglade fiercely defended her sister with a growl, putting herself in front of the gun's muzzle, then breaking into coughs immediately after yelling.
“Snowglade!” He reached a hoof out to her, while his other still held his gun pointed at Rarity.
She smacked his hoof away, her ears flat against the sides of her head, tears in her eyes. “Why comfort the pony you're about to kill, huh?”
Rarity just looked at what she'd started with horror, now fully dressed in her heavy winter gear. She couldn't back down and simply let another pony close to her die in the cold – even if it was an otherworldly version of her friend accused of terrible things – but she didn't dare move towards the entrance, either.
“You are WAY out of line, Snowglade! What the buck has gotten into you!? Your body wouldn't even stop the bullet!”
“Is THAT the first thing you think of, Clockwork!? Fine then, kill us both! But if you kill her, you're killing me, too! You didn't have orders to execute us both, did you!?” She broke into another fit of coughs. “B-but if you shoot me or her...” She began floating her own rifle with her magic, and pointing it at him.
“GRANDEUR! PUT THE RIFLE DOWN!” He bellowed.
“SILENCE!” Gratitude screamed, sitting up, instantly grabbing everypony's attention. “Have you all gone mad!? What's going on? Lower your weapons, both of you!” she sternly demanded.
Everyone was wide-eyed to see the quiet, gentle pony of compassion and mercy barking orders at them. Every ear was folded, but now folded in submission rather than anger – except for Gratitude's.
They complied, no longer pointing their weapons at each other, but still holding them.
“Sergeant Fate gave me orders to keep Granduer in the tent, and she's trying to escape to go after him because he took the governor out on a walk,” he explained to the medic.
“He was going to shoot Rarity! I'm not losing my sister again!” Snowglade protested.
“Then we'll tie her up -” Gratitude glanced down at the sleeping bag they'd kept the governor in. The rope she'd been tied into it with was still coiled on top of it. The sound of the entrance zipping open made her look back up.
Clockwork was aiming his gun at Rarity as she lept out the entrance.
Snowglade was responding in kind, pointing her own, held in her magic, at him.
Gratitude dashed forward, knocking Clockwork's pistol upwards as it fired.
“Wh-what are you doing!?” he protested, struggling with her as she refused to let him aim back at Rarity. “These are my orders!” he yelled, and started fighting with her.
After a moment of struggle, he managed to pin her down with both hooves, leaving neither to work the gun.
“Clockwork, let me go and give me your weapons, medical orders, Abyss madness protocols,” she said from underneath his pin. “As of this moment, I outrank Celestia. Now let me go and give me your weapons!”
“You're a pacifist! You won't even use -”
“That's the point!” she asserted, “You know entire teams have been lost to Abyss madness, so are you going to turn in your weapon, or are you going to shoot me, too?” she asked sharply.
The last hint of aggression in his posture melted, his ears flopping a little less, from showing a willingness to fight, to showing humiliation. He stepped off of her, and took the pistol off his hoof. “I won't step out of order, sir,” he dutifully reported.
By now, they could all feel the cold air coming in the tent from where he'd shot it. “Then patch up the tent,” Gratitude ordered, then turned to Snowglade.
Snowglade was whimpering, shaking and sniffing, tears running down her cheeks.
“You're not to touch any weapon with your magic, understood, Snowglade?” Gratitude asked, her voice quiet but stern.
“M-mhm... - uh – y-yes, yes.”
She put a hoof on the younger pony's shoulder, who then met her blue eyes with her own hazel green.
“I – I almost... I -... The safety...”
The medic looked at the rifle – the safety was still on. She looked back at the pony's teary face.
“I – I tried to – but – but the safety – but I tried to! Will I – is that a court martial? Will I be banished? Executed?” She broke into another fit of coughs.
“Snowglade, Snowglade,” she comforted her, patting her on the shoulder, “You didn't try to shoot him, okay? You're just confused and panicked. Just calm down. We'll just get back to the Victoria and you'll spend the return trip on a soft bed in medical and – ”
“Didn't you hear?” Clockwork interrupted. He was sewing a patch on the tent, not turning from his work as he spoke. “I guess you were tending her injuries while I worked the radio... But we'd be lucky if we got to worry about court martials right now. But I'll tell you what, Snowglade. Don't point a weapon at me ever again and I'll forget about this. But next time you point a weapon at someone, load it first.”
Snowglade just blinked, then looked back down at the weapon. She didn't dare touch it, though.
“Just learn from this, okay?” Gratitude asked. “It's most important we keep working as a team. I'd... be willing to forget this if you two can just work together from here out, alright? Because if you can't trust each other again, nopony will be reporting this to anyone except The Vanguard, anyways.”
“Great, that's us two, now what about Grandeur?” Clockwork asked.
“We're going after her...” Gratitude gave Snowglade one last pat on the shoulder, looking into her eyes, then reached over to her pile of winter gear. “But we have to hurry, clearly. But I'm keeping your rifle and you're giving me a better explanation while we go. You'll get your rifle back if I think any Vanguard patrols are nearby, but you're not going to try to take it from me, alright?” as she finished talking, she turned around and handed him the essentials of his arctic clothing.
“Understood,” he affirmed, taking the garments, then rushing to put them on as quickly as possible.
She started doing the same. “As for Snowglade – Snowglade, you're staying here to watch Twilight. I'm very, very concerned that all of this didn't wake her up, especially the gunshot. This definitely isn't normal sleep, but she was delirious last night, so it may be one of her injuries. Try to take care of her. But I have a strong feeling I'm needed more outside.”
Snowglade just nodded. Her breathing was unsteady. “C-can you promise me... You'll return with Rarity?” she asked.
Gratitude paused her dressing to look at her, concerned. She took a step closer. “Do you think we will?”
“I – I... I really hope so.”
“Me, too, Snowglade. And I think we will, too. But you'll have to wait to find out, won't you?”
“Yeah...” Snowglade looked back at the rifle on the floor, her voice sounding hollow.
The medic returned to putting the heavy winter gear on. “Just don't shoot us when we get back, okay? Things can look weird in the darkness of The Abyss,” she added. “And just watch Twilight.”
“Of course.” Snowglade replied again, looking up at Gratitude, then back down at the rifle. “Of course.”