It was early evening when the Fillydelpia entered the Foal Valley. Canterlot lay ahead, finally returned to some semblance of its former glory, at least. Lights twinkled and glistened in a number of buildings, marking the city out as a beacon, guiding the airship and its passengers home. Though the Hoofer Dam had not supplied power since the invasion, and was now a broken ruin, several wind turbines provided the city with enough power to light key structures. The residents, almost entirely military with the exception of the royals and some citizens discovered hiding in the surrounding mountains, had been trying their best to get life back to something approximating normal, even with the knowledge that many other parts of Equestria could not hope to do the same. The human enemy, and now the Changelings, were a potent menace, and the life that ponies knew before the invasion would not return for a long time yet; months at the minimum, probably years, perhaps decades would pass before towns and cities were rebuild, populations boosted back to pre-war levels, food and fuel supplies stabilised, and manufacturing and transport capacity rebuilt.
Such grandiose plans were far off. Everypony had to focus on the here and now, and the crew of the Fillydelphia did just that. They had a passenger to deliver. Marshals on the ground with illuminated batons guided them, in the gathering gloom, to the landing fields outside of the city walls. Slowly and carefully, the airship came down. The docking ropes were secured and the engines cut. In the state room cabin, Spitfire gently shook Twilight awake. Her eyes fluttered open, bleary, having slept for the entire journey from the northern wastes down to the capital. A look of fear immediately entered them; mentally, she was still in the Hive, still under the thrall of Chrysalis. She looked around, eyeing Spitfire with clear confusion and suspicion.
'Easy, easy...' Spitfire cooed, trying her best to adopt a motherly tone, not something she had ever been required to do before in her professional, or personal, life. 'You're alright, Twilight. We're in Canterlot...'
'Spitfire...' Twilight's evident panic quickly calmed at the sight of a known face, as the Major had hoped it would. 'Wh...what...Canterlot...?'
'That's right,' Spitfire nodded, giving her a smile. 'We're bringing you home, remember? You're safe.'
Twilight blinked a few times before a very faint smile creased her lips. 'Safe...I-i guess that still means something...'
'It does as far as I'm concerned,' Spitfire replied. 'We just landed. They've got a wheelchair ready on the top deck. Gonna transfer you to the palace. Apparently they have a room ready for you...lucky, huh? imagine how much some ponies would pay to stay in a room like the one you're going to.' Spitfire chuckled. 'There's food, water...if you want any.' She gestured to the table beside the bed. Twilight slowly sat up, and drank her fill from the jug, eating a couple of slices of bread and some grapes, though still not feeling very hungry. Spitfire helped her up and helped her prepare for the transfer.
Once she was ready and refreshed, Spitfire and Arcwing, summoned by the guard outside the door, helped Twilight up to the main deck, where she was seated in the waiting wheelchair. Wheeled down the ramp to the ground below, a doctor and two nurses from the palace infirmary met her, and she was wheeled into the city. Soldiers and Guardsponies patrolled almost every street, secured almost every corner. The palace itself was resplendent in finery, with banners, flags and glowing lanterns decorating each spire and tower. Spitfire stayed with Twilight as she was wheeled into the courtyard where she had seen her brother execute the human prisoners, and onward into the palace itself. Her room awaited, and she was taken there directly.
Inside, two of Princess Celestia's personal handmaidens had prepared the room to an exacting standard, most surprising given the state of the majority of the city. It was almost as things would have been before the war; a large four-poster bed, clean and fragrant sheets and pillows, a large and lavish bathroom through in the next chamber, plush carpets, gilded bedposts and door handles. A room fit for a visiting royal or prime minister, but there was little chance of any of those coming to stay in the near future. Outside the door stood two unicorn guards in full armour, carrying not the regulation repeaters but instead the same machine-rifles issued to the STG.
Twilight was wheeled into the bedchamber and the two handmaidens helped her out of the chair and into the bed, laying her down gently and carefully. The airship's medics had given her a checkup, but the handmaidens assured her that the palace doctors would give her a more thorough examination in the morning. How was Princess Luna, she wanted to know? She was given the answer- alive, but wounded, and recovering not too far away in another room similar to hers.
That did some small thing, at least, towards putting Twilight's mind at rest. The handmaidens departed, leaving Spitfire at her bedside.
'I know you just woke up, but you try and get some more sleep,' she pointed out. 'You were down in that Hive for a long time. Get as much rest as you can, kiddo. You want me to stay here a while? There are guards outside the door, but, you know, if you wanted a familiar face to be around,' she offered. 'I'm sure your friends will be eager to see you, but they've been told you're not to be disturbed until you get some more rest.'
Twilight nodded. 'Yes...that would be...appreciated. Thank you, Spitfire...for everything, for coming to get me...' she muttered, a twinge of sadness in her voice because she knew the losses that Spitfire's force had suffered because of her. The veteran nodded grimly.
'It was our mission, and I'm glad we could pull it off,' Spitfire replied, not mentioning the fact that their primary mission had been, in fact, to recover the Element, not the bearer.
'I'm just sorry I got all those ponies killed...' Twilight added sorrowfully.
'Now come on, Twilight,' Spitfire chided. 'We already talked about this and I told you. You didn't get anypony killed. They all knew the risks and they were happy to take them. You didn't order the mission, you didn't lead it, and you did all you could to help.' She gave what she hoped was a comforting pat on Twilight's shoulder to reinforce her point, just as a knock came at the door. 'Let me get that...' she muttered, heading to the door and opening it warily.
She had no need to be concerned. Outside was Princess Celestia herself, looking none the worse for wear after her battle with Queen Chrysalis. Spitfire snapped to attention with a smart salute.
'As you were, Major,' Celestia spoke. 'And thank you for your service today. You and your unit have performed a great service for myself and Equestria.' She stepped into the room.
'Thank you, Your Highness!' Spitfire replied. 'It is an honour as always to serve at your command.'
'I'll take over here. You go get yourself some rest,' the princess ordered, and Spitfire saluted again.
'Yes, ma'am. Get well soon, Twilight.' She exited the room, closing the door as Celestia made her way over to the bed.
'Princess Celestia...' Twilight gave her mentor a weak smile. 'It's so good to see you again...'
'My dear and faithful student...' Celestia crossed the room and pulled Twilight into a gentle but warm embrace, with both her hoof and her wings enveloping the smaller mare. 'I am so grateful to have you returned safely to Canterlot.'
Twilight hugged back as tightly as she could in her weakened state. 'Sometimes I didn't think I'd ever see you again...' she muttered.
'My sister and I never lost hope,' Celestia replied. 'Once she had made contact with you through your dreams, we knew that you would be returned to us, sooner or later. The only question was where the Hive was to be found.'
'Your sister...' Twilight gave a small sigh. 'I-is she going to be alright?'
'She will be fine, Twilight. Thank you for your concern,' Celestia replied. 'She has been wounded, but not grievously. I have informed her of your safe return. No doubt she will wish to speak with you tomorrow.' Celestia released her embrace, taking a step back and circling round to sit upon the other side of the bed beside Twilight. 'She is resting for now, and so should you. I do not plan to stay long.'
'I-i rested on the airship...' Twilight pointed out, her ineffectual protest meeting the expected lack of success. Spitfire had told her she should get more sleep, and Celestia pushed the same point.
'You should sleep, Twilight. The doctors would say the same thing. So would all your friends, and your family,' the princess replied. 'You can see them all tomorrow, once you are feeling better. I can sense you are still tired and weak, Twilight. There is no need for you to strain yourself. Just rest. I can stay until you are asleep, if you desire, or I can leave you in peace.'
Feeling a sudden desire not to be alone, Twilight nodded. She would have been happy for Spitfire to stay with her, but with her mentor offering the same thing there could be no competition between the two. 'Please stay, princess...'
Celestia nodded. 'I will. Just rest your weary head, my faithful student. You are safe. You are home.'
Twilight lay back on the pillows, and Celestia wrapped a gentle wing around her once more, soothing her. Twilight closed her eyes, calmed by the presence of her princess and teacher. All thoughts of her time imprisoned in the Hive gradually left her mind as she slipped peacefully into the blackness of sleep.
Celestia stayed with her a while longer before letting her go and standing up. She trotted to the door and spared a glance back at the slumbering form of her student before quietly exiting the room, leaving Twilight to sleep the sleep of the dead, safe at last.
While Twilight slept, others were very much on the move. Forces of the Imperium were being shifted south, in preparation for the upcoming assault on Baltimare, which was being planned high above. Lord-Admiral Marcos had ordered preparations to be made, and plans were being drawn up regarding the specifics. Scouts were being posted to the hills. Though Baltimare was located at the point where the valley had widened out to become almost part of the southern plains, the hills were still close enough to the city for powerful magnoculars to have a good view from the safety of the high peaks. Orbital imagery and sensor readings were taken, keeping tabs on things from above.
The Auspex arrays of the Emperor's judgement had tracked one particular pony airship that had departed the battlefield, while all the others had gathered just to the south of it at some kind of staging area. The solitary craft was tracked until it landed just outside of the city. The return of the princess, perhaps?
The scans of the battlefield had proven inconclusive as to what the actual outcome had been. The spectacular flashes of energy being thrown around had suddenly stopped, and the clouds of ash interfering with the sensors made it hard to figure out anything more than that. Individual ponies were too small to reliably track, but the airship was easy to follow back to its home port. With the prospect of the princess being back in town, Lord-Admiral Marcos relayed a message to Commissar Birbeck that he should try once more to get in contact with her the next morning. Bright and early, that was exactly what the Commissar did.
Met once more at the gates of the city, his Salamander scout car came to a halt, two Valkyrie escort gunships hovering at a safe distance above. The Commissar was in no mood to beat about the bush, having been turned away once already. He stood up in the open-topped turret of the vehicles to address the guards.
'I have been ordered by my Lord-General to seek an immediate audience with your princess!' he called. 'Is she here this time?'
'The princess is in residence,' came the reply. 'Please wait where you are. She will be informed of your arrival and, if she desires, she will speak with you.'
And so Birbeck waited, and waited, and waited. He drummed his fingers on the coaming of the turret impatiently. Clearly being made to wait deliberately, he was not impressed with the reception he had received so far. The princess herself, when he had spoken to her in Manehattan, had seemed perfectly reasonable in her actions and words. Her subordinates, it seemed, did not share those qualities with their leader.
Finally, after an eternity of sitting out in the light drizzle, as low clouds scudded across the mountain peaks just above the city, the gates of Canterlot were thrown open to him, and he was allowed inside. His vehicle rumbled down the cobbled street, starting to crack the stones beneath its tracks before being waved down by an officious-looking pony in shiny golden armour.
'Stop! You can't drive that thing in here!' he proclaimed with a glare. 'Look at what it's doing to the road!' His outstretched hoof quivered with an almost comedic horror at the sight of the cobbles being damaged. Birbeck looked around. There were buildings with entire walls or rooftops missing, piles of rubble in some of the side streets, bullet holes and las-burns galore, and yet this pony was concerned about some minor damage to his precious road surface?
Drive over him, he thought to himself, but did not say. 'Driver, halt,' was his call instead, and the Salamander slowed to a stop. 'I'll walk from here,' he grunted, clambering down from the vehicle and dropping to the cobbles below. The angry pony looked satisfied enough with this course of events. He gestured to a trio of others, all wearing the same uniform.
'Please follow your escort party. They will take you to the princess,' he informed Birbeck, who simply nodded. The three ponies, rifles at their sides, led him through the streets. Though the city was back under the control of the ponies, the only such creatures he noticed were in military uniform. There seemed to be no civilians anywhere to be seen, not entirely surprising given the fact that Canterlot had been under Chaos occupation for a time. Evidence of their presence had mostly been cleared away, with foul shrines dismantled, abominable graffiti washed from walls, and bodies removed to be burned, but it was clear that there had been a battle here. It was one that Birbeck had not witnessed, but he had heard from some of the other officers how the princess had apparently cleared out the main transit station all by herself. At first telling, he had scoffed at the notion that some strange horse-alien could do such a thing, but having seen her in action over Manehattan, he suspected the officers in question had been telling the whole truth and nothing but.
After passing through several similar streets, they reached another curtain wall, this time around the palace itself. Entrance was given once Birbeck had been relieved of his weaponry, which he only agreed to with the greatest reluctance on the basis that if he did not comply he would not be permitted to see the princess at all. For a Commissar to voluntarily surrender his weapons was almost an anathema to him, but he was under direct orders from Lord-Admiral Marcos to speak with the princess, and this was the only way that was likely to happen.
The trio of guards that had escorted him were replaced by two others, who led him inside the palace building, a most impressive edifice of marble, stone and gilded metal, the spires catching the light from the rising sun that peeked over the mountaintops. The interior was equally as impressive, or at least it clearly used to be, but where statues should have stood, there seemed to only be plinths with nothing atop them. What had once obviously been ornate stained-glass windows were shattered. There were none of the usual carpets, rugs or tapestries that might be expected in such a building; evidence of the Chaos occupation. Despite the work that had been done to remove similar remnants out in the city itself, nothing much could be done to replace that which had been lost.
Birbeck was taken through the palace and finally into the inner sanctum, where Princess Celestia sat resplendent upon her throne, sunlight blazing in through the windows and illuminating both the golden throne itself, and her iridescent mane which flickered and moved, most unnervingly, despite the lack of any wind.
'Commissar Birbeck,' she greeted him with a nod. 'Welcome to Canterlot. How may I assist you this morning?'
'Princess.' Birbeck returned her nod. 'I have been commanded by my Lord-Admiral to speak with you and to...apologise in person.'
'Apologise? What for, Commissar?' Celestia questioned.
'For the loss of the Hoover Dam, Your Highness,' he explained. 'During our attack on Ponyville. We dispatched an assault force to capture the dam and ensure its security. But the forces of the Archenemy managed to destroy it. We believe they used demolition charges planted within the structure of the dam to bring about its collapse. My Lord-Admiral wishes to extend his apologies and his great regret that we were unable to prevent its destruction.'
Celestia nodded once again. 'I see. Thank you, Commissar, and please thank your Lord-Admiral for me, also. The loss of the dam is indeed a sad event, but I understand that your assault force took heavy losses in the ensuing floods. Please extend my personal regrets in turn that such a fate should have befallen them.'
'Thank you, your highness, I will pass on your condolences,' Birbeck replied. 'We regret also that the town of Ponyville was unable to be captured intact. However, I would point out that it had already taken heavy damage during the initial engagements of this conflict and held little military or economic value in the state in which we found it.'
'Yes, I understand that, Commissar,' Celestia assured him. 'However, the strategic value of the town was never in question. It has never held a place of particular importance from a military perspective. The reasons for our desire to capture it in some semblance of order were rather more of a sentimental nature,' she explained. 'Your forces did all they could and they have suffered as a result. You have my thanks, and the thanks of a grateful population as well.'
Such empty platitudes meant little to Birbeck when coming from a Xenos, but he nodded, going along with the rhetoric of diplomacy, not really something he was particularly well-versed in, but he had been appointed by the Lord-Admiral to perform just such a role. Commissars were more naturally used to a less tactful form of diplomacy involving a loaded bolt pistol, but an order was an order; a Commissar above all others should know that.
'Thank you, your highness. The men and women of the Imperial Guard stand ever vigilant to root out the threat of the Archenemy wherever it may raise its ugly head,' he assured the princess. 'As you know, our next target will be the city of Baltimare. Planning is already underway for that operation. My Lord-Admiral has requested me to ask if we can count on your support.'
'Of course, Commissar. I shall place myself at your disposal during the operation.'
Birbeck nodded. 'And can we also count on the aid of your sister, your highness?'
'Unfortunately that will be unlikely,' Celestia responded. 'My sister is...indisposed at the moment.'
'Indisposed?' Birbeck questioned. 'Nothing untoward, I trust?'
'She is currently receiving medical treatment,' Celestia explained, though without being drawn on exactly why. Birbeck had been briefed, however, and suspected he knew the reason.
'Then I hope she shall recover soon. My Lord-Admiral has informed me that a battle appeared to be taking place yesterday around the location we identified as a possible Changeling Hive. Your airships were reported as being present in large numbers. Do you have some information about what exactly happened there?' he probed.
Celestia raised an eyebrow, but did not seem particularly surprised to learn that the Imperials had evidence of the battle. After all, they had been the ones who had located the Hive in the first place. It was reasonable to think that they had kept it under continuous surveillance ever since. The Changelings were a threat not just to the local inhabitants, but also to the Imperial ground forces and, potentially, to the fleet, should they somehow manage to get up there. Celestia had not heard of any indication that the latter may have taken place, however.
'There was a battle, yes,' she agreed. 'My forces took part in an assault upon the volcano. It was indeed an active Changeling Hive. The information you provided to us was correct. We carried out an assault and the Hive was destroyed as a result.' No particular detail there. Birbeck wanted more.
'That is gratifying to learn, princess. But one thing is puzzling both myself and the Lord-Admiral. We had offered you assistance in both locating and destroying the Hive. You allowed us to perform the first function. Why did you decide to attack the Hive yourself, instead of permitting us to do so? Surely such a course of action has led to the unnecessary deaths of many of your forces, princess.'
Celestia nodded sagely, considering his words and her reply to them. 'Broadly speaking, the Changelings are a matter for us to deal with,' she responded carefully. 'If your assistance had been required, then we would have requested it, but I did not feel that such a request was needed. I am sure you appreciate that I have no desire for your men to throw away their lives needlessly,' she added. Her explanation did not satisfy Birbeck, and her attempt to curry favour by suggesting that she had been taking the noble course of action by dealing with the Changelings as an internal security matter did not exactly convince him. She was most definitely hiding something, some element of truth to the whole affair that would explain things more clearly.
'I see...' Birbeck nodded. 'Your thoughts on this matter are most generous, but I assure you, neither myself nor the Lord-General would have any qualms about utilising our forces to help defeat a potential threat to the Imperium.'
'Are the Changelings proving to be a threat to you, Commissar?' Celestia questioned.
Now it was Birbeck's turn to be guarded and cautious with his words. 'There is a...potential for threat to the expeditionary force, princess, of course. We are taking all reasonable precautions against such a foe.'
'I am encouraged to hear it,' Celestia replied. 'You would be strongly advised to utilise extreme caution where the Changelings are concerned. As I explained to you before, they are an insidious foe, and they have the potential to sew the greatest possible confusion, especially if you are not prepared for them.'
'We are prepared for them, princess. We have fought their kind before,' Birbeck answered, referring to the Tyranids, though that ravenous species held its own different dangers and strengths and did not share the Changelings' ability to mimic other living beings. 'There is little new in this galaxy that the Imperium has not already fought, killed, and conquered,' he boasted.
'Be that as it may, you have not fought the Changelings before,' Celestia reminded him. 'Do not take them lightly.'
'if they pose that much of a threat, your highness, then why did your forces attack that Hive alone?' Birbeck countered, still seeking the truth of the matter. 'Why not enlist our assistance? You know as well as I do that our weaponry far outclasses yours.'
'I did not deem it necessary,' Celestia repeated. 'But rest assured, the next time we may happen to fight the Changelings, assuming you and your men are still present on this planet, we will call upon you if needed.'
It seemed clear to Birbeck that he wasn't going to get a straight answer regarding the exact reason for the battle that had raged around the volcano, but considering Celestia had informed Lord-Admiral Marcos that her forces were only going to conduct a reconnaissance mission, he could only reason that they must have seen or discovered something that would warrant a raid, rather than having the Imperials attack it from the air, as they had offered. It was the same conclusion that the Lord-Admiral had reached.
Birbeck was escorted back out of the palace, his meeting with the princess over. He climbed back into his scout car and backed out of the city. His first action was to get on the vox to the Lord-Admiral to confirm his suspicions. He did not know what, and he did not know if it was important, but the princess was definitely hiding something.