//------------------------------// // The Infernal Line, Chapter 7: Fireside Chat // Story: The Virgin Company (currently editing) // by Pone_Heap //------------------------------// Zip’s eyes snapped open, and he heard a yelp escape his throat. It took him a moment to recall where he was. He was still in that quiet corner of the cave, waiting to hear from Sgt. Amethyst Flare’s party; he was pretty sure he wouldn’t’ve slept through that. Though he’d barely been dozing, he’d found himself in the midst of a nightmare that had startled him awake. It had been a vague thing… something hard to define… It seemed strange to dream as he lay there the short time he had, but a pony could dream in any state of consciousness, he’d learned over his 21 years. Looking over, he saw the little pocket-watch on the makeshift desk supporting their communications read 00:55. The lieutenant groaned; he’d really not slept much, but he was no longer feeling tired… or at least not sleepy. He took a drink of the orange water Sgt. Sweet Clover had concocted. The water tasted great, and he took another gulp. He knew what he still had to do: while waiting for Amethyst to contact him, he’d settled on reading the last three files. Sighing heavily, he made room on the desk and set down the hefty folder containing information on his sergeant, Razor Wire. He’d looked at it earlier, that being the cover, before Sgt. Clover had interrupted him; it read the same thing it had previously: TOP SECRET Cpl. Razor Wire Yup… it was real, alright. The SECRET files had been bad enough, and Zip still dreaded rereading them when had had reason for it. But something gave him a little courage as he looked at those capital letters emblazoned on his sergeant’s folder—maybe the fact he felt more alert than earlier—so he inhaled and blew out the breath, opening the pages. Zip hadn’t known what to expect, but he wasn’t disappointed regarding his belief it was something terrible. It was a miserable fact the special forces did anything required of them. Zip had a good idea of what ponies like Amethyst did, but he knew even more about ponies like Razor… and the things they did. Despite how terrible it was, it was an open-and-shut case, and nopony wound up going to the gallows. Razor had been a temporary sergeant assigned to a special forces squad of 12. In these squads existed a commanding officer, a warrant officer serving as vice, and two ponies in each category: intelligence and operations, communications, medical, weapons, and engineering; Razor served as one of the weapons sergeants. The long and short of it wasn’t complicated: Razor’s squad was to kill an insurgent and everypony on his property … And that meant everypony… with no questions asked. But they were given bad intel, and they executed a family of six. It had been an isolated family into moonshining, and they certainly fit the bill of the kind of oddity for which they were looking. A father, a mother, three teenage colts, and a filly in her crib saw their lives end that day. After all… no questions asked… It destroyed the 11 and Razor, what they’d done, most of all Razor. It was supposed to be the task of the weapons sergeants to kill the family… and they did. But upon finding her, Razor’s fellow sergeant mirroring his position didn’t have the stomach to kill that filly, and neither did Razor. Their commanding officer refused to put anypony else to the task—none of them had it in them—and he made his weapons sergeants draw straws. Razor lost, and he didn’t have the stomach to watch her die, so he smothered her with a pillow as not to see her face. In the aftermath, the ponies in that squad were sent 12 different directions. The commander was court-martialed and found guilty of overlooking details that might’ve steered them away from the family; he was sentenced to 10 months hard labor and saw a temporary demotion. The warrant officer and the nine others were sent to different special forces units around the globe. But Razor had to be rehabilitated. It took a couple months to break him of his hysteria. But a truly elite soldier he was, so as with dozens of others, he was sent to Port City; after all, he was still useful. Goddamn it… Zip’s eyes sprang up wetly for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night, and he retched, tasting bile and oranges. He slammed closed the file and pushed it away from him. Of all the things he could’ve conjured up in his nauseated misery, it was Spc. Trip Wire and her adorable, happy face… and how much she idolized her dear brother. Zip was quite sure Razor’s little sister didn’t know about this, but he was only taking an educated guess. Soldiers understood what it meant to be a soldier, and they knew “shit happens”, but this was new ground… Zip’s reading that… and he knew he’d never be able to look at Razor the same way again. He wondered if Trip would be able… if she ever learned. It took a few minutes to calm down, but Zip rinsed out his mouth and steeled himself to read Spc. Hemp’s documents. TOP SECRET Spc. Shive Hemp Yes, another horror for the lieutenant’s night of despair… and what Zip found was even more revolting than anything else he’d read that night… if not ever. And it wasn’t a stretch to designate it as the worst thing he’d ever read. What struck him immediately, though, was the photograph of Spc. Hemp and his old squad. The specialist had been handsome. The photo was dated a month before the assignment that eventually saw Spc. Hemp sent out to the coast. And Zip had a nasty feeling he was about to learn why Spc. Hemp had his innumerable scars. Specialist Hemp regularly served on fireteams before coming to Port. Designated the “specialist”—the role, not the rank—in most situations, Zip wouldn’t have guessed Spc. Hemp spoke seven languages. Really, he never would’ve guessed the slightly bashful specialist, unremarkable besides his hide resembling a topographic map, his being a decent leader, and his well-deserved popularity with his friends, had such a skill. And this particular fireteam needed a linguist for their newest assignment, as Zip would later see. They’d been detached to check out some foreign religious group of Earth ponies that had set up a “church” in the badlands. Why the military was sent to deal with a matter more appropriately left to the local sheriff, Zip didn’t know, but he kept reading. His wondering about the sheriff’s role in dealing with such a thing was fast quelled. The area's sheriff and six deputies had gone out to look into the cult. A lot of weird stuff had been happening, and the cult was suspect. And by weird, that meant that Earth ponies and livestock had been disappearing; the ponies were never seen again, and the livestock were found dead, skinned and nailed to trees facing Canterlot. Yes, Zip reasoned that was messed up, but even more messed up was the fact the heads of the sheriff and all his half-dozen deputies were found on spikes in front of the sheriff’s office the very next morning. And nopony claimed to have heard or seen anything strange in town overnight. That was why the military was sent in, and they chose their best to make up the fireteam of five to further investigate. The reason for Zip’s specialist going with the team made clear: the cult primarily spoke Old Ponish. If they were to learn much, written or verbal, they needed his expertise in the language. Their assignment was one of secrecy: they were to assess the group’s numbers, try to find out what had happened to the local ponies that had been vanishing, and map out the compound. Needless to say, things didn’t go well for the five soldiers. As stated, Spc. Hemp and the other four were good. But the cult had been expecting something after murdering seven lawponies and were ready, surprising them as they skulked through the steppe. The five of them were captured and tortured by a priest of The Moon’s Chosen—a Nightmare Moon cult—and his closest followers. Over three weeks, they were kept alive between the floggings and scourgings they received. There were other cruelties stated, most of which Zip had trouble imagining. And the five soldiers did come upon the ponies that had disappeared from the region. They were already as brainwashed and fanatical as the priest’s inner-circle, and they routinely took part in the torture of Spc. Hemp and his comrades. Things came to a head the night before the full moon. Spc. Hemp couldn’t pick up on everything—the cult’s language was so bastardized—but he came to the conclusion they’d be “sacrificed to the Mare in the Moon” when the moon was at its fullest. Taking what little they’d learned about the place and its schedule, the five broke loose as they were brought to the Alter of Sacrifice and killed the ruling party of the cult… and everypony that had disappeared. None of the lower leadership or the brainwashed locals knew how to fight; they were just poor, stupid souls that had fallen in with the worst kind of pony—by their own choice or the choices of others. It was an easy thing, killing them, especially after the last three weeks. The five took turns throttling the priest. Escape may have been prudent… Hell, it was more than prudent, but after the seemingly endless misery, the stallions were broken. They wanted to erase everything to do with The Moon’s Chosen, and there was a whole settlement of sleeping ponies fitting that description, offending all their senses. Well… four of them felt that way. Spc. Hemp had picked up on another thing: only the priest and his closest adherents even knew of the murdered sheriff and his deputies (it was their doing, after all) or the fact five soldiers of the Equestrian Army were being brutalized and held for sacrifice. They didn’t even know about the sacrifices and other evil deeds that had been taking place for years; they were kept in the dark, simply believing they had set out to create a better world under the watch of the visage of the Mare in the Moon. Why anypony might think Nightmare Moon was worthy of worship was lost on Zip, but that wasn’t important. The four stallions besides Spc. Hemp knew of the innocence of the general membership—they’d discussed it at length—but they were beyond caring. They wanted vengeance on the rest of the followers, ignorant as they were. When Spc. Hemp refused to take part, not a one of them attempted to persuade him otherwise. They merely beat him very nearly to death. The four were so far gone, nothing was stopping them. Left for dead, Spc. Hemp woke up the next day to find the population slaughtered and the community destroyed; there was no soul left alive anywhere to be found. Stallions, mares, colts, and fillies lay burning in heaps. And his comrades certainly hadn’t stuck around. Spc. Hemp took two days, half his ribs broken and almost literally dead on his hooves, to make his way back to his unit. After a couple days of senselessness and teetering between life and death, Spc. Hemp took a turn for the better and was able to tell his commanders what had happened. They knew. At least they knew the cult in its entirety was dead. They’d sent in a larger detachment the hour Spc. Hemp returned. What they didn’t know was where the other four soldiers were; they’d vanished into the wilderness. Even as he was healing, swathed nose to tail in bandages, Spc. Hemp was thrown into the military prison in Canterlot, pending investigation. He very likely would’ve faced the gallows—and quickly—except for the fact the other members of the fireteam were picked up about a month after the incident. Forcing confessions from the four, Spc. Hemp was “rehabilitated”, and his former mates were hung by the neck until dead. And then, as with so many others, Spc. Hemp was dumped at the biggest port in Equestria, pushed aside to do a job about which most ponies never even knew. Zip, appalled beyond words, vomited in his lap. It wasn’t much, and he didn’t void the entire contents of his stomach, but it had him spitting and coughing violently. Gasping through his freshest tears, he reached for his canteen. After swishing out his mouth, he gingerly took a few sips, if only to wet his whistle. Sitting back down heavily, he wept into his knees; through his wet eyes, he noticed the bleary-looking patch of puke on the leg of uniform. Again, envisioning what he’d just read, it upset him more. It took him a few minutes to get his bearings but get them he did. Noticing it had become colder, he threw a couple logs into his little fire. Zip hadn’t even noticed the cold but supposed it had been such since about the time he’d fallen asleep. Blowing out a rough, spluttering breath, he again rested his head between his legs. What have you gotten yourself into, Lieutenant?! Zip, in his mind, spat those words into his own face. Yes… What…? Yes… The slightly bashful specialist, appearing unremarkable besides his hide resembling a topographic map, his decent leadership skills, and his well-deserved popularity with his friends, had lived through things beyond his comprehension. It both baffled and… frustrated Zip… that ponies so fucked up could seem so normal. He shook his head; he knew it was wrong to think that, especially in such a place. Sometimes for a soldier, that was just living. And there were a fair few of them in his platoon. Hell… three of them—four if you counted whatever Pvt. Mercury Rise couldn’t/didn’t recall—were on perhaps the most important and necessary mission in the history of the Equestrian military. They had a week—at best—to prepare the new defenses in the pass below them. If they couldn’t halt or slow the centaurs, keeping them in the north until it was impossible to leave it, the continent was doomed. Shaking off that unpleasant fact, Zip finally stopped weeping and spat a wad of phlegm into the corner, finally clearing out the last of the foulness in his mouth. And without thinking about it, he turned to Amethyst’s file, lying on the floor of the cave. Just one look at the file, clumsily held shut by wire, had his mind reeling all over again. Feeling as if he had ginger ale fizzing about his skull, he was already tottering for the crystal ball. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d thrown the little sheet off and began to franticly tap on the glass. Shit…! Zip was able to focus and realized he’d just called Princess Celestia. As the picture came clear, he was greeted by a peculiar sight. Celestia wasn’t wearing her crown, her collar, her horseshoes, or even her makeup. She was in a robe, lounging in a chair, her mane tied back with a slightly surprised look on her face, and some kind of pastry flaked on her lips and cheeks; in her hooves was a mug of hot chocolate. “Lieutenant…?” she cocked her head, bemused; under her purple eyes were some pretty impressive bags indicative of a certain lack of sleep. Zip was quite put off his game, seeing her in such a position; he blushed, momentarily forgetting his panic, “Oh… I’m… sorry, Princess. It seems I’ve-” “Oh, we’ve postponed a meeting that could wait for later, so I’m just trying to relax before bed,” she blew off his floundering and gave a tired, lopsided smirk and sputtered, waving a bare hoof indifferently. “I don’t know about you, but no matter how exhausted I am, I always need to wind down a little before I can fall asleep.” In most cases, Zip was the same way but didn’t say. Celestia showed him the shadow of a smile, “And please… don’t apologize to me, Zip… I think we’re past all that.” Zip decided she was right: the last couple weeks had been nuts, and seeing their ruler getting ready for some shuteye was nothing. There were greater things at work. He gave her a nod in response. Celestia took a sip of her cocoa, and she gave him a pleasant expression, “Now… what can I do for you, Zip?” He dithered, never meaning to call her in the first place, “I hate to bother you with this… I… Princess… I… want to ask your advice…” She spoke with some force, “Zip. I am pleased—delighted, in fact—to give you my time. I’m sure you have a good reason for hailing me at this hour.” Zip knew the hour—01:20—but he was sort of lost in his own world. In that cavern, time didn’t mean a whole Helluva lot. Noting Zip’s further dithering, she initiated further communication, his tear-stained cheeks and anxiousness not going undetected since she’d answered his summons, “You look terrible, Zip…” Ho-humming, he slowly nodded, feeling pretty terrible, “Yes, it’s been a rough night for me.” Celestia smirked, “I know I look a fright.” Zip chuckled a second, “You just look the same as everypony…” She took another sip of cocoa, “No word from Amethyst?” “No, Princess. Not yet.” “But that’s not why you called,” her eyes were contacting his. “What have you been doing?” It wasn’t a far reach; Zip pulled over Amethyst’s bound documentation and held it before him, “I’ve… been catching up on my platoon.” Her eyes narrowed in observation and then returned to normal; she set down her mug, “Is that what I think it is?” “If you mean it’s Amethyst’s record, then… yes…” Zip conceded. “The others’ are here too. I’ve gone through all of them tonight, besides this one.” “How did you get it?” her eyebrows raised ever so slightly. “Well, how do you think?” he didn’t mean to be smart about it, but there wasn’t much room for interpretation. “The mare in question… I’m certain.” Zip blinked, “Of course… She kind of… uh, raided the records in lockup… and at the hospital.” Celestia said, “That is Amethyst’s true file, Zip… but it’s not the original seal.” “I know… I assure you it wasn’t me… I told you I didn’t,” Zip experienced an almost supernatural dread throughout his body, just being near the thing. “I know it wasn’t you,” her face was a mask of confusion. “It astonishes me somepony was able to break it; I had several unicorns in the think tank put it together… I doubt… I doubt Amethyst could or would do that. I doubt I’d have an easy time of it.” Zip prodded the crappy nest of wires encasing the papers, “…” Celestia frowned, focusing on Zip’s burden, “I guarantee you Amethyst was the one who tied that thing shut… For all her power and magic, she can surely panic… do… childlike things… I’ve seen it before, this kind of desperateness. Coming across it must’ve really upset her.” The lieutenant wasn’t really listening, and he said the first thing to pop into his head. “I know who broke the seal,” the words practically fell from his mouth. She focused on Zip, “Wha…?” Zip saw no reason to conceal much of anything from the princess, “It was one of my ponies… Cpl. Lily Hawk…” Celestia’s eyes widened and showed pain, “I know who she is, Zip. And if it’s come to Amethyst, you’ve been through ‘Brook Bluebonnet’s’ papers. I didn’t oversee it, but I observed her trial. It was I… that recommended the deal.” Zip wasn’t sure what to say. The princess eyed him, “You… wonder why I did it…” He said honestly, “No… I’m just trying to process this…” Whether he cared or not, she told him, “Well, I did it because she was too valuable to let rot in a prison cell until she was in her 40’s.” “I… think I can see what you mean, Princess.” That was why a fair hoofful of the ponies in his platoon were there, after all… Celestia saw no lying in him, and there was none, “I’m sure you do, Zip. She is the kind of pony I’d think capable of wonderful and terrible things, but I think you’ve realized that. She’s smart, persistent, and cunning… in ways Amethyst could never be… Yet, I saw a frightening resemblance between the two… in the strangest of ways. “I’ve wondered, much to my own distaste, what kind of mare she could’ve been if she’d just joined the military when she was 18. They’d have broken her of her free spirit, but once they built her back up… As to why she took the deal, I’m not sure; I only proposed it… You read the file…” “I did…” Zip exhaled; he himself had thought about Lily’s “lost potential”—not as a pony of medicine, but a soldier. “I was shocked.” “I’ve requested your platoon’s files for myself, Zip. I’ve read most of them myself, namely the SECRET and TOP SECRET materials.” “I see…” Zip said. Celestia admitted, “When your specialist… Shive Hemp… was imprisoned, I was the one that ordered the stay of execution. I wasn’t about to see a pony die for something unexplained. But I doubt I could’ve found a reason for it to be held back any longer if his former companions hadn’t turned up.” Zip blew out a whistle, “Yeah…” In a kindly fashion, she said, “So many of your ponies… your friends… have been through so much, Zip.” “I know…” “It’s right that you know your friends, Zip. I know it hurts, and you may never again be able to view them as you have, but there’s no substitute for learning as much as you can.” “Yes, Princess…” “But you haven’t gone through Amethyst’s,” her tone betrayed nothing. It stung a little, despite her even tenor; he let out the childish retort, “I don’t know if I want to… or even if I should…” “I think you should, Zip…” her voice was still gentle, but her face showed discomfort. Zip was tired… he was scared… and he uttered, “God knows what’s in there…” She didn’t hesitate, “You need to know.” “Why?” the lieutenant let the word slip out. Calmly, she said, “I’ve never read Amethyst’s file, Zip… at least not the real deal.” “I know… or at least that’s what I’ve heard,” Zip adjusted his legs, one of them falling asleep. “Yes, that’s entirely correct,” Celestia closed her eyes, leaning back slightly. Something pushed Zip; he felt he had to be certain, “So… I’m correct in believing you’ve never seen this file—the contents, that is?” “You’re correct, Zip,” Celestia sighed. “I’ve never seen what it contains.” Zip urged, “And you don’t know what’s inside…?” She hesitated but said, “I can only guess… Besides her being a warrant officer in their special forces squads of 12—and therefore the second-in-command—when she wasn’t working alone, I can’t say much beyond her working for me.” “Why?” “Why…?” she was still leaning back. He asked again, “Why?” She, for the first time since they’d begun to talk, wouldn’t meet his gaze, “…” Something didn’t seem right to Zip, considering her position, “Why… why didn’t you ever learn, knowing there was more to Amethyst?” “It’s because I didn’t want to, Zip…” “What?” “That’s all.” “I thought… I thought it was dumb to even ask,” Zip forced out. “It seemed to me that… you were kept in the dark on some things… that you didn’t know things.” “That’s what’s been put into your mind?” “Yes, Princess…” “Zip, don’t underestimate my power and my position. The only reason Equestria is governed the way it is… is because I wish it to be so. I want my country and our protectorates to have autonomy. I try to let things… ‘run themselves’. I don’t know some things, and it is my choice not to.” Zip couldn’t imagine why, but perhaps he could, “I don’t really understand.” She shook her head, “It’s easier, Zip…” “You’ve missed an awful lot… operating that way,” Zip suddenly felt bitter. She seemed chagrined; the princess was unsure what to do with her hooves. Zip, despite all the talking he’d done with Celestia, wasn’t able to get a good bead on her. She at once seemed incompetent and wise beyond all their lifetimes. One minute she could be a nervous mess, and the next had her radiating her centuries of experience. He’d seen it change in seconds: she was their ruler, but at the same time, she was just a normal mare. But he supposed anypony could be viewed the same way. There were times they lived up to appearances and expectations and times they fell short. “I know, Zip…” she finally said. “I’ve allowed a great deal of things—for better or worse—to go on right under my nose.” His growing—though previous—knowledge that their princess wasn’t perfect didn’t change how he felt about some things, “You were shocked when I told you about the heavy equipment taking precedence… about Cpt. Weaver… Hell, about most of it.” This was true; she’d never suspected or had knowledge of most anything going on around her… and it had been a choice. She pinched her muzzle, “And I know I need to change that, at least when it’s necessary. I will and I am, but there are some things I can’t bring myself to do.” He kept up, “You mean learning about one of the most dangerous pony in Equestria? Your former bodyguard? Your friend? Do you have any idea what kind of mare she is…?” Celestia was hurt, but she mustered, “I know Amethyst is beyond skilled. And I know she’s ashamed… that she hates herself.” Zip’s line of thought fell off like the clap; he was flummoxed, “…” She had more to say, “I know I love her. I know she loves you… that she loves your ponies… that she loves me… that she’s scared for us to know.” He gulped, “Yes.” It was all he could say at the moment. “I had her record sealed and sent to the bowels of Port City’s collections because I wanted it away from me. There are other copies filed away around Equestria… partials… But what you have in your hooves is the most complete, and it’s the only one to tell the truth.” Closing his eyes a few seconds, he pondered, “The truth? How would we know that? Things are so… off.” “It’s true, Zip. As to how, I didn’t read it, but my top generals and advisors read it… and they’re the ones that wrote it. On this, I trust them.” It took Zip a few seconds, “I see…” Celestia’s voice cracked, “The fact I don’t know about much of her life and career is one of the few solaces she has. And I won’t take that away from her. And I don’t want it. I know how much she dreads your reading it, but this is a matter of saving our way of life… our continent. She knows you must read it; it’s why she left it with the others. I can’t do anything with it, but you can.” Zip squirmed, looking down at and shuffling his hooves, “Damn it…” Her eyes welled, “I can say that, but it’s only half the truth. The rest of it’s shameful… I know how very selfish of me this is, Zip… I’m sorry, but it’s one of the few solaces I have.” “I understand,” the lieutenant sniffled. “Princess… I’m scared…” She answered immediately, “So am I, Zip.” With a heavy, sick feeling, Zip accepted this; yet again, he felt his eyeballs heat up, “I understand, ma’am.” “It’s still your choice, Zip. Do as you see fit.” His stomach protested his duty, “Yes, Princess.” Zip took a moment and blew his nose. Celestia did the same. The young Pegasus said nasally, “Well, then that’s that… Anything we need to know from your side?” “We declared martial law at 6:00 p.m.,” she answered. “You hadn’t already?” he raised his head. Don’t concern yourself with that…” she retrieved her cocoa. “But… no. We’re also conscripting ponies to begin constructing our defenses… and if we must, we’ll conscript the citizens to fight.” “That won’t go over well…” Zip groaned. “That is a worry for another day… but we begin the construction in the morning,” she sighed heavily. “My advisors recommend both, and I believe them on the matters. None of it will be popular, but our ponies know what’s at stake.” “And they think they’re alone in this…” Zip put forward. Celestia stopped mid-swallow and gazed his way, “You have something else you wish to address.” Zip nodded, “I do.” “Well… yes,” she admitted. “Nopony besides those that need to know… know that there’s a glimmer of hope left in the north.” “And it needs to stay that way,” Zip grimaced. “But the time’s soon that the centaurs will know—one way or the other—that we’re alive. When that happens… there are some things we may wish to communicate.” “…” she held her mug as if it was a security blanket. “I’m just not sure the best way to do it, Princess. One of my sergeants—a family stallion—told me…” She closed her erstwhile dry eyes, “I’m not sure of the best way for your platoon to convey their thoughts… their feelings… their love to their friends and families. It’ll be enough of a shock to the world—your loved ones—that you’re all alive, but that’s not your worry… is it?” He’d been trying hard not to think of them… His mother, father, and his three sisters—all younger than him—were still working for that old merchant as far as he knew. And he didn’t know… not for sure. He’d briefly spoken to them before and after he’d received the Wings of the Dragon Slayer from the air force, but he’d no so much as written them since; he simply didn’t know what to say. He certainly didn’t know what to tell them now. He’d envisioned them more than a few times that night, and the thought of them brought the tears—almost constant that evening—back in force. “The thing is… I don’t know if it’s even a good idea,” Zip buried his nose between his hooves and tried in vain to cast aside his thinking. “I know it might give them hope… give us all hope… But my worry is my platoon will… fall apart. They’ll crack if faced with… saying goodbye. “The only thing keeping some of them from losing it is we’ve been so busy the last few days. They’re too tired or too cold to care about much besides eating and sleeping. I don’t know if… dying is the first thing on their minds, but this would probably change that… make it real.” “I wish I could give you advice, Zip… but you must see this through on your own. Trust your sergeants, Zip. They know your soldiers… and I know they wish to steer you in the best direction.” Zip’s mind went on a tangent, thought it wasn’t completely unrelated, “I don’t even want to think about what’ll happen if Amethyst calls with bad news… or if there’s no news…” “Have faith, Zip. She’ll be alright. They all will.” If anypony could succeed, it was Amethyst. Zip also knew most of his ponies could do it; the only reason he’d sent the four was because they were camping above the city. Knowing this wasn’t unhelpful; he did have a decent bunch of ponies under his command, “Thank you, Princess.” She beamed through her tears, “You’re most welcome, Zip.” Zip wiped his eyes, “I suppose you’ll be wanting to get some rest.” “You do the same,” Celestia nodded. “Trust in yourself, and trust your friends. Call me around breakfast with any news; we’re meeting at 8:00 a.m. to discuss Project Phlogiston, and I’m not the only one here wanting to hear how things went.” “Yes, Princess.” “Good night,” she said, and she fizzled out of view as the crystal ball went blank. The lieutenant draped the ball’s cover over it and sat down. Feeling… better than he had, he checked the nearby watch: it was 01:45. Still not feeling so tired, he nevertheless rubbed at his sore eyes. The advice he’d been given over the last days and hours was ricocheting around his brains. On one hoof, he knew he needed to hold some things close to the chest. But he also knew he needed a degree of transparency. It wasn’t that long since he’d spoken with Lily about such needs. His other noncoms and even the enlisted ponies had conveyed the same whether it was intentional or not. Officer candidate school admittedly didn’t teach him much, besides doing well by his noncoms. In fact, most of it was pushed out of his consciousness when he was forced to act in the “real world”. He’d picked up better wisdom just serving as a “third” lieutenant out in the Dragonlands. And he’d picked up a lot since becoming a real officer and working with his platoon. It all pointed to the same thing. Balance. He needed balance, but it was easy enough to say… but not to do. Spluttering, he hated his situation. It was the old “between a rock and a hard place” thing. But he somehow felt good. He sat a bit longer, relaxing. Not intending it, he dozed a couple minutes. … … … Bzzzzzzzzzz… It wasn’t loud, but it woke him. Zip couldn’t help but crack a smile. It was Amethyst, certainly, giving him a nice, secure line to her. Yanking the shroud from the crystal ball, he was rewarded by her lovely face appearing to him. She looked like she’d fallen in the river, but hey, it was just dandy seeing her. “So?” he blurted. She was all business, “No beating around the bush, sir. We got it. All of it.” He was flooded by a relief the likes of which he’d only felt once… and it wasn’t when he’d escaped that dragon. It was when he’d escaped Apricot Crumble's attempt at giving him head at the Officers’ Ball, all those weeks ago. Once or twice, he’d wondered whatever happened to her; she probably just left with the other civilians. Shit, if they all lived through this, she and her family could probably go back to their nearby orchard come springtime. Amethyst eased, “I know you wanted us to contact you sooner, but we talked about this. I wanted to be well and away before we spoke.” “You mentioned luck…” Zip rubbed his eyes, yet he felt gleeful. Oh, it was so great to see her! “Not so much luck as it’s just what I’ve always done on this sort of mission,” her eyes resembled his… tired. Almost unable to contain his happiness, Zip practically bounced in his seat, “It’s done! Oh, it’s done…!” She giggled, “Yes, sir, it’s done.” “Oh, I’m so friggin’ glad!” Zip ejaculated. “I can tell,” she simpered. “Everypony’s okay?” Zip remembered. She nodded, “Everypony’s fine, sir.” He didn’t even think to ask about much else, he was so reassured, “Oh, good…” “Yes, sir. Gotta go,” she winked demurely. Click! Zip halted in his exhilaration. She’d “hung up” on him! And she’d dumped a little of her charm on him. Wow… She could really catch his “innocence” with that. Focusing, he wondered just how things went, but he figured it could wait. She said things were good, and he figured they were. It could wait. Really, it wasn’t at the forefront of his mind. What was on his mind was that despite it was 01:53, a few certain ponies needed to hear the good news. He was still so wound up he could barely keep from shouting. So… he didn’t. Zip burst into one of the side chambers where he knew several of his noncoms likely were, “They did it!” Sure enough, his sergeants and Lily, standing in for Amethyst while she was gone, were together. Spc. Trip Wire was also present. They’d been lounging about and waiting for news, drinking some cold coffee left over from dinner, not that it kept them all awake. Sergeants Sweet Clover and Treasure Trove looked up from their game of double solitaire. They couldn’t recall seeing Zip so thrilled with anything. Lily, awake, looked up, her shoulder supporting Trip’s head, “What?” “Huh?” Jacinta mumbled blearily; she’d been dozing. Zip bounded over, sweeping Lily off her hooves as he spun her around, “They fuckin’ did it, Lily!” “Lemme go!” just a couple seconds earlier, she’d been comfortable (and serving as Trip’s pillow) and not suspecting her commanding officer would pick her up and twirl her about. Zip shouted, “Amethyst and the others are on their way back!” Trip, unsupported, didn’t topple over but woke up, “Wha’s goin’ on…?” Sergeant Razor Wire had also woken up, sitting on the other side of his sister, “Lieutenant says they’re coming back… They got the stuff!” Whooping and hollering, Sgts. Clover and Trove upset their game, sending cards all over the cave’s floor, having stood up so fast. Trip threw her hooves around her brother’s neck, “Oh, Razor!” The little specialist began bawling out of happiness, Razor patting her back. Zip final put down the dizzy and agitated Lily and scooped up Jacinta, hugging the life right out of her. “Ziiip…!” she choked, using his name without thinking about it. “Ow!” He eased up and let go, “Sorry…” She huffed at him, “That hurt.” Zip didn’t mean to turn away, but Sgts. Clover and Trove came to shake his hooves. “That’s the best news we’ve heard in a week!” “Everypony’s okay?!” Zip nodded to both, “All’s well as far as they’re concerned, I was told.” Jacinta, unable to stay upset, grinned, “I’m glad for that.” The lieutenant turned to his platoon sergeant/marefriend and hugged her more gently, “Oh, you and me both!” She gladly returned the hug. Zip glowed, broke off the embrace, and surveyed all present, “Well… Do we share the good news now?” Lily shot the idea down, “No. Let them sleep, sir. They need it.” Trip smiled through her tears and joked, “If we didn’t just wake them all.” Jacinta, rarely resorting to gross drollness, shook her head, “I think they’ll sleep; most of them were too tired to fart tonight. If they ask, tell them. Just keep it quiet.” Zip agreed, “Very well.” Jacinta nodded to the assemblage, already on the way out, “Everypony go get some sleep.” The lieutenant wanted to talk more, but SSgt. Petals’s words fell on willful and obedient ears. As quickly as they’d gotten worked up, they parted ways. Watching Razor lead away his sister, with his other sergeants and Lily close behind, Zip found himself alone. He figured he’d just go back to communications. … … … Around 02:30, Zip found he couldn’t sleep. He tried and tried, but it wouldn’t come. He’d just been in the same room as Razor, and of course, Zip had learned of his most unpleasant past less than two hours earlier. That, as well as the other stuff he’d read, plagued his mind. With the nearly orgasmic reprieve of his concerns for Amethyst and her crew—and the excitement having worn off—he was left with his thoughts. And that wasn’t doing him any favors. Very briefly, he reflected on one of the more dubious things he’d read—or rather, he’d looked at the pictures—that night. Lily had been a pinup mare, and those images suddenly flooded his vision. Maybe I should beat off… or… would Jacinta have been willing to…? Zip shook his head; why was he thinking of such things?! He wasn’t even horny anymore, the night he’d been dealing with, but he had to take his mind off the past plights of his friends. Though, he doubted he could even get it up… Disliking himself for thinking of the lovely Lily in such a nasty manner, he tried a different position in which to try to sleep, but damn, were those naughty pictures something! Had Jacinta wanted to “bunk” with him that night, he wouldn’t have said a word against it, and he’d have tried his damnedest to satisfy her. Sadly, he was sleeping alone; she’d been exhausted and probably didn’t even consider having a little booty call. Grumbling, he turned over again, rolling up in his blanket as he stared at the fire he still had going. He continued to try to find sleep; it had to be somewhere. After a few more minutes of tossing and turning, he heard hoofsteps. Turning back towards the entrance to the little alcove, he saw one of his mares. “Lieutenant?” It was Lily.