Dawn was still at a loss for how this entire situation had progressed the way it had. The meticulous plan she and Curaçao had devised had quite suddenly been thrown off the rails. Instead of meeting the entrepreneur extraordinaire Thunderbolt and hoping to make headway in an eventual meeting with Her Majesty Queen Blackburn, she and Havoc now sat at dinner with the queen herself as she took the opportunity to formally meet Lockwood's family for the first time.
An appropriate turn of events, since Blackburn and Lockwood were apparently engaged to be wed and they'd be her family soon, but baffling nonetheless.
How had Curaçao let this slip under her nose? Curaçao and Shroud were supposedly at the absolute top of their game when it came to collecting intelligence and information, so how in the world had this avoided detection? Either they were losing their touch, or Queen Blackburn was far more wily than anypony had given her credit for, and Dawn wasn't sure which of those was worse.
The peace proposal was absolutely still the right move here, but now she wasn't so sure if her position was as strong as she'd thought it to be. It had all hinged on having the advantage of intelligence and information, both of which Dawn feared she might now have genuine competition in. It was an alien feeling, and she didn't like it, not one bit.
Worst of all, did this mean that Queen Blackburn had somehow deceived Father over the years? That thought alone frightened Dawn more than anything. Once she returned home and things had settled down, she'd commune with him and get some answers, more to put her mind at ease than anything. Hopefully this time she could maintain her focus and actually succeed in her efforts to contact him.
In any case, dinner had progressed rather slowly, as most ponies present were just barely picking at their meals while they asked question after question to their royal host. Dawn was content to let Lockwood's family do the talking for now, hoping to catch some piece of information that might be useful in the upcoming negotiations, but really it was all personal information that she honestly had no interest in.
She and Havoc barely even factored into the conversation at all, actually. Not that Havoc had any right to be part of it in the first place. It took every ounce of Dawn's willpower not to chastise her sister for her poor table manners—in front of the queen, no less!—if only out of concern for drawing unwanted attention. She'd lecture her sister later.
"I want to make sure I've got this all straight," Flathoof said, setting down his water and leaning back in his seat. He gestured between Lockwood and Blackburn, who sat close together at the head of the table, wings practically interlocked. "You two have been engaged for something like six years and had been dating for some time before then, all without anypony knowing it?
"Correct," Blackburn and Lockwood said in unison, sharing a brief look to one another and smirking.
"And Lockwood here was essentially running your tech company for you over that period, which was basically nothing more than a front for your smuggling operations?"
"Correct," said Blackburn.
"And you did all this under a false identity? This… 'Thunderbolt', or whoever you were? And nopony realized who you really were?"
The queen grinned. "Also correct."
Flathoof shook his head in disbelief. "Amazing." He gave Lockwood a look of awe. "I know you've always been keen on keeping secrets, bud, but this is… well, it takes the cake, let me tell you. Color me impressed."
"I really am sorry that I had to keep this whole relationship a secret from you all over the years," Lockwood said with an apologetic smile. "I mean, you all see why I had to keep it a secret though, right? If word got out in any way that I had close ties to Hope's Point, I'd have likely been in danger, and might have put you all in danger in the process."
"Not to mention what would happen if anypony found out just who Thunderbolt really was." Flathoof nodded with finality. "Y'know, normally I hate it when you keep stuff from us, but this one… I'll let this one slide."
"No wonder you kept assuring us that you'd taken care of everything, son," Stouthoof chuckled after swallowing a bite of food. "I doubt anything was out of your reach with the queen of the city being your special somepony. It explains the hotel, the accommodations, the guard that escorted us, everything."
"You have no idea how long we've waited for Lockwood to find somepony to call his own, dear," Shortcake said to Blackburn with a smile. She set her hoof on Lockwood's. "I know he's not my son by blood, but I still feel obligated to want to see him happy, just as I am with all my children.
"That's my biggest takeaway from all of this, to be honest. It doesn't matter to me whether you're some rich business mogul, or the queen of an entire city. You could be anything in the world, and it wouldn't matter to me. You clearly make Lockwood happy, and that's more important than anything else."
"And she does make me happy, Shortcake," Lockwood said, patting her hoof right back.
"And vice versa," Blackburn said with a nod. "Have been waiting for this moment for years. Looking forward to putting everything together, will begin immediately. Lots of angles to take care of, some easier than others. Was not expecting Lockwood to bring family all at once, actually."
"Oh stars, yes, the wedding alone should be marvelous," Shortcake said with a huge smile on her face. "It's like a fairy tale come true: a royal wedding! I can just imagine all the decorations and dresses, and oh my stars, the food. If there's anything you need, dear, you just have to ask. I wasn't officially a wedding planner or anything like that, but I helped my fair share of friends arrange things for their kids' weddings."
The older mare's eyes widened. "Oh! This makes me realize that Lockwood is the first of my sons that'll give me—"
She glanced between the two with a mischievous smile before turning back to her food, and the two of them glanced between themselves, slightly red in the face as if embarrassed or pleased by something. Dawn had no idea what unspoken concept had just been shared, but figured it was just family jitters getting the best of everypony. Bizarre, to say the least.
"Appreciate the offer, may consider," replied Blackburn. "But besides the wedding, other issues include arranging housing, allowances, protection—"
"When you say 'housing', I assume it's just a matter of finding space for all of us to live?" Flathoof asked. "We saw some of those residential districts underground on our way up here to the hotel, but I doubt you've just got vacancies lying around. Probably gotta build stuff all the time, I take it?"
Blackburn tilted her head. "Housing not an issue, only matter of arrangements at royal palace. Selection of rooms, adjustments of furniture, etcetera. Lockwood's family—my family—will live with me."
"We're gonna live in a palace?!" exclaimed Shorthoof with a huge smile. "Cool!"
"Oh my goodness, I wasn't expecting that much, to be honest," Shortcake muttered. "At most I expected a home of our own somewhere, big enough for the family to live in comfort. Nothing too fancy."
"No expenses will be spared to make you comfortable," Blackburn said with a grin.
Stouthoof and Flathoof shared brief glances at one another, and the former cleared his throat. "Your Majesty—"
"Please, just 'Blackburn' will do. You are soon to be my family; no need for royal titles and formalities."
"Yes, of course. Blackburn, look, I know we all appreciate the generosity, but… I don't know if I'm exactly comfortable with accepting so much from you. Don't get me wrong, I want nothing more than for my family to be provided for and happy, but I'm no charity case. I've worked for a living my entire life, and instilled it in my children that hard work pays off."
"Basically, I don't think my father and I can accept all of this generosity in good conscience," Flathoof added. "It's not right for us to start living pampered lifestyles just because Lockwood happened to meet the right mare. I've spent most of the last year refusing handouts from somepony that cares about me because… that's just not who I am."
"Speak for yourselves, I don't have a problem being pampered like a princess," Pattycake scoffed. She glanced over towards Blackburn's stallion bodyguard, Fireblast—real name Crossfire—and gave him a look that Dawn didn't understand, as well as an airy sigh. "That hunk over there can pamper me all he wants…"
"Ignore her, she doesn't speak for the rest of us," Flathoof grunted, giving his sister a disapproving look.
Blackburn nodded. "Completely understandable. Will also make arrangements to find openings for you in preferred fields, as any new citizen is given. Hmm…" She pointed at Stouthoof first. "Stouthoof has history with Foundry metalworks, worked as a supervisor. Can make arrangements to find similar position. City always has need."
"Well, I very much appreciate that, Blackburn," Stouthoof said with a nod. "Nothing too fancy, though, if you don't mind. Last thing I need is accusations of nepotism. I'd much prefer to start from the bottom and let my skills speak for themselves, and I want to earn my promotions too, if you don't mind."
Blackburn smiled, apparently pleased by the answers. "Well said." She then turned to Flathoof. "Captain Flathoof has experience with law enforcement. Would fit well within the city militia. Law and order paramount ideals in my city, can always find positions for ponies with your skillset. Is that agreeable?"
Flathoof tilted his head. "It sounds like it might be, but… to be honest, the NPPD was so loaded with corruption and greed that I'm not sure I feel comfortable working for another organization like that. Not to say your militia is corrupt or anything like that, no, but… it's more like I don't know if our standards really mesh."
"Can assure you that militia is a dutiful, morally clean organization. Chief of Security Stellar Storm and General Avalanche run a tight ship, report directly to me. Benefit of a smaller population."
"I'll be honest, I'm curious as to what kind of crime your city even gets that would require a police force, or militia, or whatever you want to call it."
"Mostly petty issues, but still issues nonetheless. Theft, vandalism, and loitering most common. Violent crimes essentially non-existent. Last internal murder case was… hmm, fifteen years ago? Rough estimate."
Flathoof blinked, clearly impressed. "Wow. That's a substantial change of pace from what I'm used to. Almost sounds kind of boring."
"Potentially. Fair warning: secondary purpose of militia is for ground defense in event of invasion, be it NPAF or otherwise. Though perhaps that will no longer be the case," she added, glancing briefly at Dawn and Havoc. "Will arrange meeting with Chief Storm for you. She will assign a position."
"Yeah, alright, I can agree to that, I suppose."
Blackburn turned to the other three siblings. "Will make arrangements for you to pursue careers or schooling of your preference. Opportunities in Hope's Point outstrip New Pandemonium; your youth is an advantage."
"That sounds nice, actually," Thickhoof said with a grin. "I've always liked machines and stuff, but we could never afford a formal engineering education. I might just look into something like that."
"More than acceptable. Can also make arrangements to repair damage to your legs."
Half the table went silent at that.
"You mean… you can fix my legs?" Thickhoof asked, his voice thick with raw emotion, a natural response for somepony in his predicament.
Dawn had watched him struggle getting on board the boxship up north, which wasn't properly equipped for wheelchair access, and seen him refuse help from most anypony in the process. She couldn't imagine what the feeling was like to desperately need to prove oneself capable of something so… simple, but she understood the need to prove oneself regadless.
Blackburn nodded. "City has developed substantial leaps in medical technology compared to New Pandemonium. Technomagic cybernetics and bionics are within reach for most citizens; for you, no question."
Thickhoof leaned back in his seat, stunned; his mother took one of his hooves in hers. "Wow… I guess I never even thought about that. I just assumed since it was impossible back home, it would be here, too. Thank you, Your Majesty. Er, Blackburn. Thank you, Blackburn."
"For family, it is nothing," Blackburn said with a smile. She paused slightly, as though to let them process the information. "Would not have it any other way."
Dawn inwardly cursed the fact that Hope's Point's facilities were so advanced that the queen could just offer that service to him without a second thought, regardless of his familial connection. Just another reason why this "war" had been a waste of time and resources; surely with the billions of bits saved from not play-fighting with Hope's Point, New Pandemonium could have developed far better advancements. The peace deal was absolutely critical.
"At any rate," Blackburn continued, "will also need to assign protection to your family. Have long since expelled potential threats from NPAF and CIA from Hope's Point; however, caution always worthwhile. Never can be too careful. Potentially form bonds with them, as I have," she said, glancing towards her two guards.
"You mean we get our own security detail?" Flathoof asked.
"Essentially. Will arrange things to meet your level of comfort; may not wish for each family member to have personal guard, and Captain Flathoof will likely not require one." She then turned to Lockwood. "Lockwood, however, will have personal guard at all times." She gestured towards the big stallion, Crossfire. "Crossfire already agreed to fill the position shortly after engagement."
Pattycake's eyes widened. "He's gonna guard Lockwood all day, every day?"
"Essentially, yes."
Pattycake set her elbow on the table and gave that airy sigh again, batting her eyelashes at the large stallion. "Wow. You're so lucky. Are you sure you can't assign him to me? I'll take good care of him, I promise."
Shortcake nudged her daughter and playfully chided, "Honey, no drooling at the dinner table, we've been over this."
Lockwood glanced at Crossfire and gave him a big grin. "So you're gonna be my shadow from now on, huh? I can't say that I'd have picked anypony better, ol' pal."
Crossfire smirked and nodded. "Yessir, y'all ain't gonna have to worry 'bout nothin'. Her Majesty insisted on getting the best for ya, after all. So, naturally she picked me, 'cause it ain't like there was much competition."
"Psh, yeah right," scoffed the short mare, Tinker—real name Gadget—who Dawn had come to understand was not just a tech developer but also served as Queen Blackburn's bodyguard, one of them anyway. Or rather, the only one now, it seemed. "If Her Majesty wanted to assign the best to Future-King Featherbrain here, she'd have put me with him. You're only the best pick because you're both stallions. Less awkward moments that way."
"Ah yeah, you can't exactly follow me into the shower, can you?" Lockwood quipped with a playful smile.
"I ain't followin' ya into the shower either, Lockwood," Crossfire interjected.
"Fair enough."
Blackburn glanced at the nearby clock and grunted. "Apologies. Not to sound impatient, but if no other concerns from everypony else, we should be going," she abruptly interjected. "As said, many concerns to address, wish to start immediately. Sooner the better."
Stouthoof and Shortcake shared a brief look. "I think we're all good for now, dear," Shortcake said with a grin. "We understand that you're likely a very busy mare, especially on account of all this. If you need to leave so you can get work done, we understand completely. Lockwood does it all the time."
"Yeah, we're sort of used to this kind of thing by now," Stouthoof said, clapping Lockwood's shoulder. "Might be why you two hit it off so well: you're a lot alike."
"It was lovely meeting you though, and I hope we get a chance to spend more time together soon."
"We will," Blackburn said with a nod and a smile of her own as she rose from the table. To Lockwood, she said, "Crossfire's last instructions from me: escort you to royal bedchambers tonight. You need to… fill me in on some details."
Lockwood tipped his hat. "My Queen."
She then signaled to Gadget to follow her, but not Crossfire; he instead remained at his spot and gave the two of them a nod as he accepted his new position as guardian of Future-King Lockwood.
As she was leaving, though, Blackburn paused near Dawn and Havoc. "Will contact you regarding peace negotiations soon. Hotel accommodations will continue in your name; you are diplomatic guests of city for two weeks, as intended, and are granted benefits as such."
"Much appreciated, Your Majesty," Dawn said with a nod. "We eagerly anticipate our next encounter."
And with that, the queen of Hope's Point left the dining room—empty aside from those at this table—and headed off to take care of business. Dawn was left both just a little excited and nervous all at once, hoping that she had handled their first meeting to a satisfactory level despite Havoc's incessant, boorish behavior. She made a mental note to herself that she could not afford to have her sister ruin any further negotiations with the queen and her council. The solution would be simple enough.
*****
"What the hell do you mean I'm not invited?" Havoc asked with a snarl.
Two days had passed since their first chance meeting with Queen Blackburn. Now, Dawn stood outside Havoc's hotel room, having come specifically to deliver the news that she was invited to a meeting with Queen Blackburn and the Council of Hope's Point; an armed guard had arrived to deliver the invitation and escort her to their destination, and now stood at the end of the hall waiting to move on.
As fortune would have it, the guard had come to Dawn's room first, and so Dawn then visited Havoc to inform her that she was leaving and could… bend the truth a little.
"I am afraid that the invitation was only addressed to me, sister," Dawn said firmly. "It would not be prudent for you to accompany me uninvited. It could be misinterpreted as a showing of disrespect."
"There's gotta be a mistake. We're supposed to be here together working on this mission and everything! The queen knows that!" Havoc blurted, throwing her hooves in the air. "Why would she only invite you?"
"I cannot begin to postulate an explanation for the reasoning behind Her Majesty's decision, but I believe it to be in our best interests if we abide by it." Dawn then smirked. "Besides, I was under the impression that you had no interest in attending any diplomatic negotiations?"
Havoc huffed. "Well, yeah, but I mean, it's different now. I'm invested! Super invested! Curaçao wanted me along for a reason, so I should keep working with what we've got, right? I thought I made a good first impression—"
"I am of the opinion that Curaçao's insistence for your presence here was merely for embellishing our intentions and putting forth a beneficial 'first contact' of sorts. Your excursions in the Wastelands have contributed a substantial amount of goodwill for our cause, certainly, but I feel that your role in these matters has come to an end."
"Bullshit! Look, I'm sure if I came along and explained things to the queen—"
"No!" Dawn snapped, fixing her sister with the harshest glare she could manage, a talent of which she was proud. "It seems as though I have not made myself clear, so allow me to reiterate: you are not welcome on this endeavor. This is not a request; this is a command from your superior. These negotiations require a delicate touch, and I would prefer you not be present for the proceedings. Am I perfectly clear?"
Havoc stared at her a moment, then clenched her teeth. "Crystal."
"Excellent."
She then turned and made her way towards the guard escort, not speaking another word to Havoc as she went. She heard the door to her sister's room slam, so hard in fact that some of the nearby paintings and vases jostled from the impact. She could really do without the noise; she hadn't slept so well the few nights before, worse than she had in months. Clearly this hotel's beds required immediate maintenance; she'd inform the concierge when she returned.
The guard, a unicorn stallion, motioned for Dawn to follow along and showed her out of the hotel and towards one of the city's elevator systems, this one different from the one they'd all taken up the other day. This elevator passed right alongside the royal palace itself, which was a large structure composed of several towers decorated with red and gold. Impressive enough given the circumstances, but nothing special compared to Pandora Tower.
The guard ushered her along through several passageways once inside the palace, all of which were clean and neat yet sparsely decorated. Apart from the coloration it reminded Dawn rather much of Pandora Tower, actually, replacing the blacks of home with golds and with a less modernized feel. It was otherwise a rather spartan affair; Father would have approved, Dawn was certain of it, and thus so too did she.
Eventually she and her escort reached the Council Chambers, whereupon Dawn was given permission to enter. Queen Blackburn and the Council were already present inside, as was Lockwood to Dawn's surprise, but she supposed if he was to be the future king then he may as well have a taste of what actual political diplomacy looked like compared to all those pathetic cocktail dinners and fundraisers he was accustomed to.
The attention of the entire room was on her as she entered, and she was given only a brief moment to observe the ponies present. Since she had no information thus far on just who was in the Queen's Council, she couldn't exactly put names to faces and hoped she'd get proper introductions sooner rather than later. She felt slightly vulnerable without the brevy of information she was accustomed to having ahead of time.
Ponies began taking their seats almost immediately, as if they were eager to get this meeting started, a good sign as far as Dawn was concerned. Lockwood took a seat at the far end of the table that did not look like a permanent fixture, which she felt was rather noticeable considering there was an empty seat in the Council's formation. She assumed he'd eventually have a permanent fixture of his own, but right now it made him seem out of place.
Blackburn herself sat at the center of the table across from the seat that she directed Dawn to sit in. "Welcome, Shadow Associate. Arrival was punctual. Thank you." She tilted her head slightly, as if disappointed. "Commander Havoc not with you."
Dawn cleared her throat. "Regretfully, no, my sister will not be present at this meeting. She requested an opportunity to explore and experience your fine city, Your Majesty. To 'take in the sights', as she explained it, and perhaps sample your culture. I did not deny her request."
Blackburn eyed her carefully, her eyes focused in a way that Dawn felt in her very soul, then shrugged. "A shame. Desired opportunity to speak with her. Will do so another time."
"Speak with her about what, if I might ask?"
Blackburn smirked. "She earned reputation in city as 'Fire Warrior'. Helped hundreds of ponies across western Wasteland over several months, utilized unique flame weaponry according to witness reports. Wished to ask questions regarding weaponry, more importantly regarding motivations."
Dawn felt herself twitch just slightly. How anypony could want to speak with Havoc about anything was almost alien to her, like wanting to talk to a dung beetle about its craft.
"Commander Havoc's assignment regarding the safe escort of refugees was due to my commands as part of a goodwill mission," she replied, "which itself is in relation to the peace proposal that I am here to present to you and your councilors. The weapons are also an in-development, classified project that she is not permitted to discuss."
Again, Blackburn fixed her with those eyes of hers. "Hmm… acceptable. Very well. Let us begin, then. Introductions in order." She gestured to Dawn first and looked to her councilors. "Everypony, this is Golden Dawn, Shadow Associate of the New Pandemonium City Committee."
"And we're certain of this?" asked one of the stallions, a rock-gray earth pony with an impressive build and a short black mane. He was clad in a fully decked-out military uniform. "There's no way of proving that she is or isn't who she says she is. We're just supposed to take her at her word?"
Blackburn nodded. "True. Best-case scenario, truth; we hear her out, make decision, carry it out. Outcome is peace. Worst-case scenario, lie: we hear her out, make decision, carry it out. Outcome doesn't change status quo, simply a waste of our time."
"And she can bring our identities back north with her in either case," Stellar Storm pointed out.
"Information that will not impact ability to lead. CIA agents haven't pierced defenses in years; unlikely to change. Ultimatum issued years ago: NPAF or CIA agents infiltrating city are to be executed. Temporary suspension of doctrine for these two weeks."
Storm nodded. "A fair point, Your Majesty."
"Agreed." The stallion nodded at Dawn. "I'm General Avalanche, by the way, head of the city's ground defenses in the event of an attack. Might as well get introductions taken care of, eh?"
Dawn nodded. "A pleasure, General." She also nodded at Storm. "And I am already acquainted with Chief Stellar Storm, who commands your intelligence and security divisions." This, Dawn noted, put her in the same position that Director Underhoof held on her own Committee.
Storm nodded. "Miss Dawn."
Blackburn then went down the line and introduced the rest of the Council to Dawn.
There was Chief Engineer Spark Plug, a stocky earth pony stallion with an orange coat and bright blue mane, wearing a blue jumpsuit. He was in charge of the city's power system and mechanical developments, meaning his department was responsible for actually putting together all of their engineering advancements. He had no real equivalent on the Committee that Dawn could tell.
Next was Chief Science Officer Moonglass, a cream-yellow unicorn mare with a red-and-blue mane kept in a short ponytail, and who wore a white lab coat over a purple turtleneck sweater. She was in charge of the scientific advancements the city developed, which included medicine, weaponry, resource gathering, and everything in between. Doctor Blutsauger, despite only being officially Chief of Medicine, often oversaw similar development tasks, such as cloning technology, which was thankfully still a secret known only to a few.
Following that was Secretary Cherry Tart, Chief of Sanitation and Infrastructure, a wine-red earth pony mare with a wavy pink mane, dressed in a simple white blouse and matching scarf. She was in charge of construction within the city, similar to what Taskmaster Concrete's duties were back home, as well as portions of Chairpony Champagne's resource management responsibilities.
Then there was Fleet Master Lightning Flash, a sea-green pegasus stallion with a gold mane, wearing a decorated black flight jacket. As his title suggested, he was in charge of the city's airship fleet, which included both military and commercial deployments. In the case of an attack on the city, he would share duties with General Avalanche in its defense. Admiral Hotstreak was responsible for the same, but did so entirely alone.
Dawn was informed that the next seat in the line, which was currently empty, belonged to Ambassador Concord, who handled the city's diplomatic relations with Newhaven down south, and who was rarely present for Council meetings. He typically voted remotely on issues, and Blackburn assured Dawn he would receive a full transcript of this meeting by the end of the evening so that he could submit a vote. There was no equivalent in the Committee for his position, but Dawn felt she herself fit the role fairly well, at least at present.
Lastly, there was the Secretary of Commerce, and the only pony who needed no introduction: Don Virtuoso Fantasia, in the flesh. He was a tall, white unicorn stallion with a broad frame that filled out his black suit. His ocean-blue mane was short and neatly-trimmed and matched his equally-short and neatly-trimmed pencil-thin mustache. He was in charge of the city's trade issues, and technically the city's finances as well, which made him the equivalent of Treasurer Vendetta back home. Ironic, actually.
"With introductions concluded, we can begin," Blackburn said once she'd gone over the entire Council. She then gestured to Dawn. "Shadow Associate, you have the floor. Present peace proposal."
Dawn sat up straight in her chair and took a deep breath. She'd gone over her presentation several times in her head over the past week since Curaçao explained the plan, and was fully prepared to present it to the absolute best of her ability. This was why she had to be here, not Curaçao. Her eldest sister may have been a clever sort with a keen way with twisting words and phrases, but right now, they needed somepony that could speak concisely and with the proper air of leadership.
Anypony else would have gotten it wrong.
"Your Majesty, Councilors, I come here on behalf of the New Pandemonium City Committee to present a proposal for a total cessation of hostilities between our two nation-cities," she said, clearly enough that it would carry throughout the room. "This war between us has perpetuated our cultures for decades, and our Committee has decided to put an end to it, via these peaceful, diplomatic relations.
"Our terms are simple, as our city has been the primary aggressor in past engagements: we merely request an opportunity to make reparations, to build a politically and culturally-positive relationship between our cities, and to better the northern continent as a whole through these efforts. We also request that Hope's Point ceases its smuggling efforts and acts of piracy in all fields directed towards New Pandemonium.
"In addition, we would request inclusion in proper trade agreements between New Pandemonium, Hope's Point, and the southern continent for the acquisition of raw materials and foodstuffs, as well as a shared technological exchange so as to further advance our societies. This would also include the arrangement of proper travel routes via which ponies and goods can transition between our cities without fear of the dangers of Wastelands."
Dawn then took another breath. "These are the terms that have been agreed upon by a preliminary hearing from the Committee. Our terms are subject to change should additional issues arise that require addressing, but as of this moment there has been no discussion of any additional terms within our proposal. Your Majesty, Councilors, what say you?"
There was a long silence, several seconds long in fact, as everypony in the room seemed to take in her entire spiel and let it settle within their minds.
Virtuoso broke the silence. "Stars above, signorina, that speech of yours sounds like it was recited right out of a technical manual or stereo instructions."
"Concise, straightforward," Blackburn said with a nod of agreement. She then took a short breath. "Easy to digest and accept."
"Sounds to me like it makes for a pretty easy agreement on face value alone," said Storm, raising an eyebrow. "All you want from us is to basically keep doing what we've been doing for decades, only we need to stop smuggling and stealing, and we need to start playing nice with you?"
"Correct," Dawn said. "Ideally we would initiate a ceasefire within a month's time and engage in further discussions until a formal agreement can be made."
"A little too good to be true," huffed Moonglass, adjusting her glasses. "Too simple. Too neat."
Dawn bit her tongue, then said, "Naturally these are only the terms that the Committee itself is presenting as part of the proposal. Hope's Point may bring its own terms to the negotiating table. I also remind everypony present that this is merely a preliminary discussion; any terms you present to me will be delivered back to the Committee to begin further discussions before any official agreements are made."
"Oh, and you'd better believe there are gonna be some terms," snorted Storm.
Blackburn nodded. "Already discussed possible talking points with Councilors in preparation for meeting. Terms simple, yet difficult, but terms of this sort always are. Secretary Virtuoso, if you would begin?"
Virtuoso smirked at Dawn and leaned forward in his seat, hooves steepled in front of him. "Most of our terms are financial in nature, you understand. You mentioned in your own term list that you wanted an opportunity to make reparations for damages sustained in the course of our conflict. So let's discuss that, shall we?"
He took a data pad from beside his seat, set it on the table, and opened up a document before sliding it over to Dawn.
"I had my boys whip this together last night. A completely itemized list of every single expenditure that is a direct result of NPAF attacks and CIA sabotages on Hope's Point over the past fifty years," he explained. "It is very thorough."
Dawn glanced at the list up-and-down, turning page after page and skimming through the various items on the list with little concern whatsoever. New Pandemonium's economy could handle any expense that would be required for reparations, she knew that for a fact, if only because there were already systems in place for her father's immeasurable fortune to funnel into every possible field. Peace would be spared no expense.
But she had to act like it would take effort, and Curaçao had been clear on how to go about it. "This is quite the list, Secretary Virtuoso," she said with a nod as she came to the bottom. "Six hundred ninety-two billion bits is not exactly… what is the phrase, 'pocket change'? The potential economic impact on our city is astronomical."
"Naturally we can negotiate over the individual items here and there," Virtuoso said with a shrug. "But I don't do my position justice by skipping steps, you understand? I'm willing to listen to whoever your Treasurer is these days argue over which items are considered to actually be at fault of the NPAF or CIA." He then tilted his head. "Who is your Treasurer these days, by the way? It's not still Penny Pinch, is it?"
"Penny Pinch retired five years ago, before I was appointed as Shadow Associate. Our current Treasurer is Vendetta Rossa."
Virtuoso froze, eyebrows raising so high they threatened to disappear into his mane. "Don Vendetta is your city's Treasurer now?"
"Correct."
There was a long pause, and virtually everypony in the room had eyes on Virtuoso as if waiting for a reaction. Dawn wasn't sure what they were expecting, but she certainly wasn't expecting him to break out into the most sincere burst of laughter she'd ever seen in her life. He laughed and laughed, and laughed some more, then looked at Dawn, took a breath, and laughed again, louder than ever. She'd never seen a pony laugh so hard, and it was frankly concerning.
"Che ironia! Questo mondo ama prendermi in giro ad ogni svolta. Questo sta per essere divertente. Non vedo l'ora."
Virtuoso's native Baroque was fast-paced and punctuated by lots of hoof motions and chuckles as he looked among the rest of the Council. He guffawed once again, then dramatically wiped tears from his eyes.
"Ah… I have a feeling you will have quite a hectic experience when you return to your Committee to deliver the news, signorina."
Dawn blinked, unsure what to make of the whole situation. From what she understood of Virtuoso from Curaçao's dossiers—Dawn admittedly skimmed these because she didn't believe Virtuoso to have such a critical position in Hope's Point—the stallion had some sort of fierce rivalry with Treasurer Vendetta that had gotten heated roughly five or so years ago, though she didn't know the details. She'd have to ask Curaçao about it when she got home.
"Er… thank you, Secretary Virtuoso. I am sure I can arrive at an agreement with Treasurer Vendetta over these terms of yours," Dawn said. She then turned to Blackburn. "Are your only terms financial in nature, Your Majesty?"
"Most of them," the queen said, unperturbed by Virtuoso's display. "However, these are terms that Council agreed upon. Specifically asked they be impersonal and pragmatic. Additional terms, however, related to your offering of cessation of hostilities: a dismantling of the NPAF fleet, for starters."
"That is something that has already entered into discussion among the Committee. Admiral Hotstreak plans on turning military spending inwards to focus on defense and policing as part of the upcoming ceasefire stage of negotiations."
"Admiral Hotstreak himself said this?" asked Fleet Master Lightning. "Those were his words?"
Dawn nodded. "He is of the belief that the NPAF's expenditure of resources in the war would be better spent elsewhere. By his admission, it has been a colossal waste of funding with little in the way of results."
"Hmph, that almost sounds like him, except the whole 'stop fighting Hope's Point' part," Lightning huffed. "I have a hard time believing the admiral would agree to this entire proposal of yours in the first place. I always knew the Admiral as a warmongering buffoon, and ponies don't just change their tune at the drop of a hat."
Dawn suppressed the urge to chuckle. The Admiral's public face was so contrary to the one he wore in private that she was certain if anypony knew, they'd swear they were different ponies. A benefit of having the Admiral as a confidant.
"On the contrary," she retorted. "He was one of the majority who voted in favor of it. Out of interest of privacy I cannot reveal much more about the proceedings, but in this circumstance if it can serve as an example that proves the genuine nature of our proposal, then our guidelines allow me to present such information."
This seemed to surprise much of the table, particularly Lightning. "Huh. Well, if you say so, I guess I'll buy it for now."
Dawn then turned back to Blackburn, eager to move this along. There'd been no real surprises thus far, and she was glad that everything was going as planned. "So, as noted, the fleet will begin dismantlement procedures once terms have been agreed upon by both parties and our ceasefire begins, leading up to the potential signing of a treaty. Are there any additional terms that you wish to present?"
Blackburn leaned forward in her seat, placing her hooves under her chin as she stared Dawn dead in the face. "All terms presented have been impersonal suggestions of this Council. Final term, however, is my own."
Dawn raised an eyebrow. "Very well. State it."
"Have acquired the identity of a single agent within your CIA network. Real name unknown, but at one time used alias 'Crimson Dust'. Agent infiltrated Hope's Point under this guise during rule of King Flashfire, my grandfather. During said infiltration, committed act of sabotage which resulted in the death of one Blue Blitz. My mother."
Dawn froze. She'd been aware of this information, and she had some idea that Queen Blackburn was fully aware of the sabotage and the organization responsible, but definitely not that she was aware of the specific saboteur's identity. That hadn't come up in any of the dossiers she'd read on the subject, which meant that nopony else knew it either; who was at fault for the lack of information, she didn't know, but she was growing increasingly frustrated with being caught off-guard.
"Final term: the agent only known as 'Crimson Dust' is to be extradited into my custody; he will stand public trial and be executed."
"And… you are certain that this was an act of sabotage committed by one of our agents, and are also certain of information regarding their identity?" Dawn asked, trying to conceal her nervousness.
"Quite certain. Uncovered years ago, before taking the crown. Could do nothing with it then; can now."
"I will discuss this with Director Underhoof of the CIA, Your Majesty, but I am not confident that such an extradition would be plausible. Our CIA agents perform their assigned tasks under the assumption that they will be protected—"
"I don't care," Blackburn said, and though the words were calm, Dawn could detect such an intense anger there that for the briefest moment, she was actually worried for her own safety, as ridiculous as that was. "He killed my mom. I want his head."
"And… if that term cannot be agreed upon?"
"Then your peace proposal means nothing to me," Blackburn said, leaning back into a proper sitting position. "Have waited years for the opportunity to do what grandfather could not, what father would not. If peace means so much to you, Shadow Associate Dawn, then one life should be an acceptable trade. Own citizens content with current way of life; peace mostly benefits you."
Dawn took a short breath. "I will… see what can be done. Pardon me if I seem ignorant of the situation, but might I inquire as to why it is this particular event that has earned such scorn? Surely the NPAF attack six years ago would logically draw more? That attack is responsible for the deaths of King Stormchaser, Queen Silver Glow, former Security Chief Gleaming Star, and thousands of your citizens."
"Six thousand eight hundred forty-one citizens, to be precise," quipped Storm.
Dawn nearly balked at the exact figure; it was far larger than the reports she had indicated, nearly quintuple the size in fact. "Indeed. So… I fail to understand why the death of a single pony has caused such impact."
Blackburn seemed to seethe in her seat and very nearly rose up, but Lockwood clearing his throat drew everypony's attention. "If I may, Blackburn?" he said, giving her a gentle look. "I know Miss Dawn well enough to explain it to her in a way that might be more… palatable."
Blackburn stared at him a moment, then back at Dawn before giving him a slight nod and sitting back comfortably in her seat, though Dawn could sense that she'd touched a nerve, yet she didn't know why. For somepony that seemed so logical and composed up until now, Blackburn's behavior was most peculiar and Dawn was left frantically racking her brain for ideas on how to smooth this over.
"Dawn, you haven't been the Shadow Associate for very long, and you and I both know that even before that you weren't exactly cognizant of events going on throughout New Pandemonium," Lockwood said, giving her a firm, knowing look.
She silently applauded his tact in skirting around the circumstances of her birth; she doubted very much if the rest of the ponies present would be understanding knowing she was a genetic clone of somepony else and had been grown in a "tube" of sorts. Lesser still would they understand the nature of Twilight Sparkle's arrival and departure. Yes, better that all be kept under wraps.
She still hated that he knew about it at all, seeing as it was something far above his station, or at least it had been before this trip. Now, she could see the benefit in keeping him "in the loop" as Curaçao had put it. Her eldest sister may not have known how far his influence really went, but it was proving quite the boon. Things like this were why Curaçao was the only one of her sisters that ever actually made Dawn proud.
"Well," Lockwood continued, "I was very young when the assassination of Blue Blitz was broadcast on the news, but I still remember it clearly. The propaganda machine up north joyfully welcomed the news. They paraded this small victory around like they'd struck a blow against some truly vicious enemies. In truth, all they'd done was publicly murder an innocent mare who'd none nothing wrong except live in the wrong city, and what's worse, they did so in front of her daughter.
"I know that it might be hard for you to understand just what that might be like, since you've never experienced anything of that sort yourself, so… put yourself in Blackburn's position for a moment. Imagine you were Blackburn on that day, and you witnessed with your own eyes the murder of somepony very close to your own heart. Your father, for instance. Then, imagine that their death was celebrated by those responsible for it."
Dawn tried to picture a scenario in which her father was murdered in front of her, and though it was difficult to even imagine such a scenario in the first place—her father was invincible, as far as she was concerned, especially with her protecting him—she was able to come to the conclusion that she would very much not enjoy it, not one bit. Just thinking about it sent a shiver through her.
What might have happened on the rooftop of Pandora Tower if Nihila had succeeded in overpowering her and killing her father? What if she hadn't caught him before he fell from the tower? What if he hadn't recovered from absorbing Nihila's power? Each of those moments felt like time had stood still for a brief instant, as though the entire world had ceased to be except for the fear she felt for her father's safety.
"I… suppose that would instill quite a significant degree of resentment in an individual," she replied with a slight nod.
"'Resentment' not strong enough," Blackburn said through clenched teeth. "Sheer hatred."
"Yes, well…" Dawn gulped. "I can now see how that situation might impose a significant impact upon your perception towards New Pandemonium. Why, though, is it more so than the later NPAF attack? That I have trouble understanding."
"Not a matter of 'more' impactful. More a matter of… logistics." Blackburn leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Intelligence gathered gave us identity of assassin, can now pursue justice. Other hoof, NPAF attack made up of hundreds of ponies, crews of airships involved. Impractical to seek out each one. Blame can be placed upon Air Raid, NPAF Captain in charge of operation."
"And we've already… dealt with him," said Storm with a grin.
Dawn nodded in understanding. "Following a disastrous second attack the following year, he was subsequently discharged and subjected to a trial. Intelligence suggested that he was secretly a Hope's Point sympathizer who had provided your city with the logistics of the shield disrupting technology. Though the motive of such betrayal was questioned at the time, it still resulted in his subsequent execution for treason. Admiral Hotstreak suspected Hope's Point involvement; you confirm his suspicions."
"Planted evidence," Blackburn said. "Air Raid was a public figure, easy to enact justice. CIA operative not public figure; real identity unknown to any but the CIA Director. Cannot do same as was done for Air Raid without further information. Thus, place responsibility in your hooves: find this agent, deliver to me."
"I believe I understand now how crucial this point is to you. I cannot promise anything presently, but I will stress the importance of this term to Director Underhoof."
"See that you do." Blackburn turned to Lockwood and gave him another slight nod. "Thank you, Lockwood."
"Of course," Lockwood said with a small smile. "I know this is a delicate situation and figured that if you wanted me to sit in on this meeting, I might as well pull my weight."
"And we're happy to have you along, vecchio amico," said Virtuoso, clapping Lockwood on the shoulder. "You'll make for a wonderful king. I don't think anypony understands Her Majesty better than you." He briefly looked at Gadget, who was giving him a look that Dawn understood well; she'd given it to Havoc a number of times. "Ah, or Gadget, of course."
"Damn right," Gadget huffed.
Dawn cleared her throat. "So, the terms of our peace proposal have presented thus far, and I believe it would be appropriate for you, Your Majesty, and for your Council to overview and discuss our terms and yours in detail amongst yourselves. I will reside in Hope's Point for the remainder of my planned itinerary. If at any point you wish to discuss adjustments to the terms, simply contact me and I will make all due haste to address your concerns."
"Acceptable," Blackburn said with a nod. She looked to the councilors. "If there are no other questions?" There were none. "Then we adjourn." She looked back to Dawn. "Will be in touch."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Dawn said with a polite nod.
*****
Havoc sat by herself at the end of a bar in a large common room at a drinking establishment calling itself The Wyrm's Head. The building's architecture was difficult to really put into words, but the best Havoc could tell was that it had been cobbled together from dozens of ships—old-school ocean-faring vessels, mind—into something that sort of resembled a proper building.
She'd checked out a few rooms in the place and saw that they all had a completely different atmosphere to them, but had decided to settle in this more traditional "sports bar-style" one on the ground floor. There were others that looked interesting, of course, just not what she needed right now. The "nightclub" one was interesting, for sure, what with the glow sticks and ultraviolet lights.
She sat and she sipped from the tall bottle of beer she'd ordered, a strong dark beer, just the kind she liked, while taking the occasional drag from her cigarette. She didn't talk to anypony, not that anypony was near enough to talk to at the moment anyway.
Her attention was more focused on the television placed above the bar, which was currently tuned to a local skyball game. She had to admit the players here weren't bad, but it made her feel a pain in her gut watching them have fun and compete.
All she really wanted was to be left alone to wallow in her own disappointment and nostalgia. Luckily, most ponies seemed to catch the drift, and so nopony had come to take the seat next to her at the bar, and the bartender only talked to her when she signaled him for another beer.
She was thankful that her tab was apparently being covered by Queen Blackburn. Just one of the benefits to being a foregin dignitary, or whatever she was considered now that she wasn't even invited to diplomatic meetings. She felt like her sister's glorified saddlebag who did all the hard work then was cast aside and forgotten until it was time to pack up and leave.
Fucking Dawn.
She was certain that her sister would be pissed at her for spending her time in a bar right now, but as far as she was concerned, Dawn could go fuck herself. If she wasn't allowed to go to these formal diplomatic meetings, then she was going to do whatever she could to help Curaçao's plan work out on her own time, which meant she had to put on good appearances.
From how Havoc understood it, Hope's Point had an almost ritualistic drinking culture, and so she figured that when in Hope's Point, you did as the Hope's Point ponies did. And that meant drinking and being merry. So okay, she wasn't exactly "merry" right now, but she made up for it with more drinking. Simple mathematics.
Eventually though, Havoc knew her luck would run out and somepony would have the balls to approach her despite the "fuck off" vibe she was trying to radiate.
This somepony happened to be an earth pony mare with a pale yellow coat, and a short, two-tone cyan mane. She wore a tight-fitting blouse and a long skirt with a cute pink saddlebag, and she'd decorated her mane with a flamboyant clip that matched her cutie mark. Havoc also noticed that the mare's muzzle wasn't quite as rounded as the other mares Havoc knew, sort of coltish if truth be told.
Havoc did her best to just ignore the mare, hoping she'd just go away. But luck didn't seem to be on her side, because the mare cleared her throat and spoke: "Um… excuse me? You wouldn't happen to be the, um… the Fire Warrior, would you?"
Havoc snorted a plume of smoke from her nose, more from her cigarette than her own flames. "What's it to ya? Looking for an autograph or something?"
"Oh, um, n-no—"
"I'll tell you what I've told everypony else today that asked me for one: I'm not in the mood." Havoc forcefully snuffed out her current cigarette in the ashtray, then took another from her pack and lit it up with her lighter. "I'd actually like to be left alone, if you don't mind."
"Oh…. of course, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" The mare then paused, gulped, and took another breath. "I just… I wanted to thank you. That's all."
Havoc raised an eyebrow and turned slightly to glance at the mare directly, eyeing her up and down as she did. "Thank me? For what, saving you out in the Wastelands? 'Cause I don't recognize you, and I've got a pretty good memory."
"Oh, no, not for helping me. Not directly, anyway. But you did help save some members of my family."
The mare reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a photograph, which she placed on the bartop. Havoc glanced at it and immediately recognized herself in the picture, as well as the pose she was in. What was that little colt's name again, the one who liked photography? Spring Cheer? Yeah, that seemed about right. The photo had actually come out pretty good; she looked like a total badass.
"Thanks to you, I got to see my brother and his wife again after being separated for years," the mare said with a smile. "Thanks to you, I got to meet my nephew for the first time. I don't think I could possibly put into words just how much I appreciate what you did, so… the best I can do is say, 'thank you'."
The mare then let out a soft sigh and turned to leave.
Havoc stared at the picture of herself on the bartop for a moment, then shook her head, chastising herself silently. You're better than this, Havoc. Dawn would be the sort of bitch that chases off somepony just trying to be nice. You're better than this, better than her.
"Hang on," she said, gently kicking the empty stool next to her over towards the mare. "You don't gotta leave. Go on, take a seat."
The mare turned back and glanced at the stool, then at Havoc. "Oh, I… I don't want to disturb you if you'd rather be alone—"
"Look, do you wanna take a seat, or not?"
The mare paused, then wordlessly took the seat next to Havoc.
Havoc sighed. "Sorry about being a little bitchy earlier. I've been having kind of a rough day, and the last thing I wanted was company."
The mare tilted her head. "I'm… sorry to hear that. If you don't want me here, though, I can just go. I understand. I got my chance to say what I wanted, so… so I won't mind. Really."
"Nah, it's fine. It's not right for me to act like a cunt just because things aren't going my way. You didn't have anything to do with it, so I've got no beef with you." She offered the mare her hoof. "Name's Havoc."
"I know. My brother told me," the mare said with a slight smile as she took Havoc's hoof and gently shook it. Havoc noted her hooves were slightly thicker than a typical mare's, but still expertly hooficured. "My name's Cotton Rose."
"So, Lemon Twist is your brother, huh? He did say something about having family here in the city, so I guess that was you."
"That's right. My parents and I left New Pandemonium eight years ago. Lemon would've come with us, but his wife was pregnant at the time so they decided to wait until their foal was born and old enough to go with them." Cotton's smile turned a little sad. "I'm glad they fared better than we did…"
Havoc raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Our father… didn't make it," Cotton said with a sigh. "He got hurt trying to get us away from some of those bugs, and… we… we had to leave him behind."
"I'm… sorry to hear that…" Havoc muttered.
"It's alright. It's been long enough that it doesn't hurt so much anymore. Hope's Point sent out a recovery team to find him after we got here safely, just to give us some closure."
Havoc hummed to herself, knowing that those recovery teams were the reason she couldn't hit the eastern Wasteland. Beyond just searching for the remains of those who didn't make the trip, they also served as scouts to ensure the NPAF wasn't up to something, and she'd stick out like a sore hoof. Those teams didn't venture into the western Wasteland for the same reason.
Cotton shook her head, then gave Havoc a genuine smile. "But thanks to you, that didn't happen when my brother's family made the trip. I wish that there had been somepony like you around back then, but I'm glad you're here now. So… thank you again, for saving them."
Havoc returned the smile. "You're welcome. I'm glad I could help, and… yeah, I wish things had been different for your father." She tilted her head, realizing that the bartop in front of Cotton was empty, aside from the photograph. "You drink, Cotton?"
"Do birds fly? Heh heh, everypony in Hope's Point drinks," Cotton said with a sly grin. "Everypony of age, I mean. It's a little rite of passage, y'know?"
"Rite of passage?"
"Oh yes. There's this special drink we have that comes with a cherry dipped in a magic-laced syrup. When you come of age, you drink it down, cherry and all, in one go. We also use it to make sure new ponies are old enough, see, 'cause if you're underage, you puke up the whole thing. Otherwise you just burp, heh heh."
Havoc raised an eyebrow. "Seems pretty elaborate when you could just card a pony."
"Yeah, but Hope's Point is kind of known for fake IDs, 'y'know? Besides," Cotton giggled, "it's more fun this way."
"Huh, I guess it could be. So, what's your poison?"
"Well, don't judge me, but I'm fond of the fruitier fare here. I can handle the harder stuff, certainly, but I save that for different occasions. Special ones, y'know?"
Havoc nodded and signaled the bartender. "Yo! Another beer for me and something fruity for the lady!"
"Oh, you don't need to get me anything, I can pay—"
"Don't sweat it, everything's on the queen's tab," Havoc chuckled.
The bartender, a salt-and-pepper-colored unicorn stallion with a matching mustache, nodded and in under a minute delivered a cold beer to Havoc and a colorful, wide-rimmed fruity drink to Cotton, complete with salt on the rim and one of those little paper umbrellas. The coloring made Havoc grin just a little; it was a bright blue with a little rainbow-colored swirl running through it. Rainbow Dash would probably hate having such a girly drink resembling her.
Cotton took the drink and sipped from the provided straw. "Thank you. I'm serious, though, you don't have to put this on Her Majesty's tab. I'm more than capable of buying my own drinks."
"I'm sure you are, but consider this my way of making up for being a bitch earlier."
"I wouldn't call you that—"
"I would, so let's just leave it at that, yeah?"
"Hmm, okay, if you want to," Cotton tittered. "And why is this on Her Majesty's tab, anyway? I thought that was only for our pilots and her personal guests?"
"Well, uh… I can't go into it, exactly. I shouldn't have even said it. So, um… don't go mentioning that around, okay?"
Cotton drew her hoof over her heart twice. "Cross my heart."
Havoc nodded, then took a swig from her beer and let out a satisfied sigh. "Damn good beer your city has, by the way. So, uh, how are Lemon and Mint doing? And Spring, of course. They all settled in?"
"Very much so. Lemon's working as a bartender at a little hotel on the north side of the city, called uh… Inn 'N' Out, I think. It's not quite The Wyrm's Head, but it's pretty popular. Mint is finishing her culinary degree, and Spring just finished his first semester at school. He keeps a copy of your photo in his backpack to show off to his classmates, bragging about how he saw the legendary Fire Warrior."
Havoc smiled and nodded; hearing that the colt was happy with the picture made her feel warm and fuzzy. "Awesome, that's good to hear.
Cotton giggled and took another sip of her drink, making a big enough show of it that Havoc easily noticed, for some reason. "So yeah, everypony's fitting in just fine. They're gonna flip when I tell them I talked to you. Not a lot of ponies even know you're in town. I'm lucky I happened to be in the neighborhood."
"How about you? What do you do for a living if you're so certain you can pay for your own drinks?" Havoc asked.
"Oh, I'm a fashion designer," Cotton said with a smile of her own. She then bit her tongue and tilted her head back and forth. "Wellll, apprentice fashion designer, slash assistant. I work for Haute Couture, one of the top designers in the city, actually." She then fluffed her skirt just a little. "This is one of my designs."
"I've never been much for fashion myself. My sister Insipid is a model up north though. You two would hit it off pretty well, I think. Her best friend was a fashion designer."
"Well I'd love to meet her someday," Cotton said with a grin, brushing a bit of hair out of her eyes. "And I don't have to ask what you do for a living, Commander. Though I guess we could narrow it down and say you're in pest control, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess that kind of fits," Havoc chuckled. She flexed her leg briefly, showing off her lean muscles. "Yeah, you're lookin' at the top exterminator this side of Pandemonium. I squash every kind of bug there is, guaranteed, no matter the size, or your money back."
Cotton laughed and playfully slapped Havoc's hoof. "You oughta put that on a business card, Miss Fire Warrior. Passing a few of those out would work a little better than just word-of-mouth from everypony that sees you work."
"I think my reputation speaks for itself," Havoc boasted, puffing her chest out and spreading her wings a bit.
Cotton eyed Havoc's wings. "Ooh, it certainly does." She then scooted her stool a little closer. "So, um… if you don't mind my asking, you said you were having a bad day earlier. I know it's not really any of my business, but… y'know, if you wanna vent to anypony, I've been told I've got a good set of ears."
Havoc tilted her head, considering Cotton for a moment, then sighed and leaned against the bar. "It's just, I finally got let into the city, y'know? For most of the past year, I've tried to do my job but keep my distance, 'cause I wasn't sure what might happen to me if I got too close."
"Oh, yeah," Cotton winced. "I don't think Her Majesty would've liked anypony from the NPAF flying around our borders. It's perfectly natural to be scared of what she'd do."
"Psh, scared? Me? I ain't scared of anything," Havoc said, flipping her mane. "I'm the toughest bitch in the universe. Put that on a business card."
Cotton put her hoof to her mouth and giggled, getting a smile out of Havoc in the process.
"Naw, I figured I could handle anything that got thrown at me, but like, I'd ruin things for other ponies if I got caught. Like, my sister's here doing some diplomatic work—" Havoc froze up. "Uh, I don't know if I'm supposed to be talking about this."
Cotton gently put her hoof on Havoc's. "You don't have to go that much into it if you don't want to."
Havoc glanced briefly at Cotton's hoof, then cleared her throat. "Uh, right. Little details, let's see. Well, like… I'm allowed in the city now because my sister is doing some important business, and I came along for the trip. But… I guess I thought I'd be able to get more involved with things."
"You wanted to be a part of it all?"
"I mean, kinda? I'm not really one for making business deals or whatever, but I dunno, yeah, I guess I just figured I'd be able to be a part of it and I kind of wanted that. So when my sister decided not to let me come along, yeah, that pissed me off."
Cotton tilted her head. "Why isn't she letting you get involved?"
"Because she's a bitch!" Havoc blurted, throwing her hooves in the air. "She's so fucking full of herself and doesn't give two shits about anypony else but her! She didn't even want me to come on the trip in the first place, and ever since we left she's been doing everything she can to try and keep me out of it.
"Like, I know I'm a bit of a loudmouth sometimes, a little rough around the edges or whatever, but I know I've got it in me to handle this." Havoc grunted. "Our eldest sister sure thought I was a good pick, so much so that she sent me instead of somepony that I thought deserved it more, and she's pretty ticked off about not getting to go. And now my little sister is directly going against her wishes. It's bogus!"
"Wow," Cotton said, shaking her head. "It sounds to me like your little sister just wants all the credit for whatever business deal you're arranging."
"Yeah, yeah, that's exactly it," Havoc said, nodding her head. "Like, I've been putting in all this work to help, but now she's pushing me out of it because she can't stomach the thought of sharing in the glory with me."
"I know she's your sister and all, but I hope you don't mind if I say 'fuck her'," Cotton said, lifting her glass. "You deserve better."
"Yeah, fuck her," Havoc said, taking her beer and clanking the bottle against Cotton's glass.
The two then drank a little bit each before setting their drinks down, and Cotton seemed to take a moment to think about something before taking a breath. "So, um… I hope this doesn't sound weird, but y'know… this has been really nice. I've kind of been hoping for a chance to meet you for a while now."
Havoc raised an eyebrow. "Huh? What do you mean?"
Cotton tilted her head towards the photograph. "When Spring showed me that photograph and told me that you'd saved the lives of him and his parents, and talked about how cool you were to him, I… well, I'll admit that I sort of, um…" She paused and took another breath, giving Havoc a little smile. "I kind of developed a crush on you."
Havoc balked, completely at a loss for words.
"I know, it sounds weird," Cotton laughed, brushing her mane out of face. "All I knew about you was from a photograph and from the fanciful stories of a colt and his parents, but all the other ponies you've saved tell the same stories. None of them knew you for more than a few hours, but you stuck with them ever since. So, um… yeah, sorry if that seems weird, but… I needed to get that off my chest."
"I… uh… I don't know what to say, exactly," Havoc said, unable to keep herself from looking dumbfounded by all this.
She was rapidly trying to parse through their conversation so far, seeing if she'd missed any signs of Cotton flirting with her, and realized that Cotton had been flirting up a storm and Havoc just hadn't noticed until now. Worse, she'd been unintentionally flirting right back for some reason. Or at least, what she was doing and saying could easily be misinterpreted as flirting: the flexing, the spreading of wings, flipping her mane.
She didn't mind, really. It was kind of flattering. But she didn't swing that way, so she knew that she had to get out of this situation as tactfully as possible, hopefully without hurting this poor mare's feelings. "You, uh… you know I'm a mare, right?" was the first thing Havoc could come up with.
Cotton giggled and tilted her head. "Of course I do. I mean, there's no mistaking you for anything but. What does that have to do with anything? Okay, I mean, I usually prefer stallions, but I've been with a couple of mares before, too."
"Oh. W-well, good. That's good. I've got no problem with that," Havoc replied.
It was true, she didn't! You didn't have Rainbow Dash as your best friend and then suddenly have a problem with mares liking mares. It was just that she didn't like mares. In fact, that had to be her next point.
"But, uh… I'm into stallions, like… exclusively," she said bluntly. "I mean, yeah, I know that I've got weird tastes in what kinds of stallions I like or whatever, but I am one hundred percent into dicks, not chicks."
Cotton blinked, disappointment glimmering in her eyes. "Oh. I see. So you're… not into mares at all?"
Havoc shook her head. "Afraid not, no. Look, I'm sorry if I got your hopes up. I know I've got this tomcolt thing going on, but that doesn't mean I'm into mares or anything like that." She set her hoof on Cotton's shoulder. "I'm not weirded out about you liking me, though. I mean, I'll be honest, if you were a guy I'd probably be into you. Kind of a shame, really." She paused. "Okay, that was shitty to say. Sorry. I'm bad at this."
Havoc saw a slight flicker of amusement in Cotton's eye, and the other mare's mouth curled into a little grin. "Y'know… I think that's probably the nicest thing anypony's said about me in years."
"Huh?"
Cotton took a short breath, seeming to recover from her disappointment. "Okay, so… this is a little complicated, so let me just come out and say it: I appreciate how far you're willing to go to make me feel like a mare, even turning me down and everything. I really do, you have no idea. I usually have to be a lot more upfront about it."
Havoc raised an eyebrow. "You're confusing me. What?"
"Oh, sorry. I should explain it better, huh? I'm… trans. So, like, I really appreciate you being accepting of that. I'm a little disappointed, but—"
"I have no idea what that is," Havoc said flatly. "You're… what? 'Trans'?"
Now it was Cotton's turn to look confused. "You don't know what that is?"
"Nope."
"Oh. Wow, I guess I just assumed—" Cotton shook her head and smiled. "Okay, uh, it's like this: I wasn't born female, but that's how I choose to identify myself."
Havoc blinked. "I don't get it. You weren't born female… but you look female, though?"
"I put a lot of effort into it, yes. I was born male, but I choose to dress, act, speak, and identify as female, because I'm transexusal." Cotton leaned a little against the bar. "Is this really the first time you're hearing about anything like this?"
Havoc parsed through what Cotton had just said, and then it all clicked. She'd gotten off to a few vids here and there that sounded exactly like this situation. "Oh, I get it! You're one of those… uh, what's the word, 'traps'? Right?"
Cotton's smile faltered slightly, looking a little hurt by it, enough that Havoc immediately cursed herself for fucking up. "Actually, that's kind of a derogatory term for ponies like me. It implies that I do all this—" She gestured to her skirt, her makeup, her mane. "—to be deceptive and malicious. I assure you, I'm not doing anything of the sort."
"Shit, sorry," Havoc said quickly, hooves up in a showing of peace. "I didn't mean nothin' by it, it's just the first thing that came to mind. I have a bit of a bad habit of letting my mouth talk before I think it through, and sometimes I say things that might be offensive, and I'm sorry."
"It's alright, you didn't know," Cotton said, looking a bit less hurt now than before.
Progress.
Havoc swiftly nodded, hoping to keep the ball rolling. "Yeah, this is kind of like how one time, I found out that my best friend was in a long-time relationship with another mare, and my dumbass thought it'd be cute to call her a dyke, y'know, just a little jab. I didn't realize it would hurt her, since we always kind of ripped on each other before so I figured anything goes."
Cotton blinked. "But you two are… okay now, right?"
"Oh yeah, I apologized for it and everything, 'cause I wasn't trying to hurt her, and she knows I meant that. I just blurted it out because I wasn't thinking, that's all. We had this, like, moment, so yeah, we're cool. I don't have any problem with lesbians or anything. I mean, my big sister's gay. And I'm sharing too much. Sorry."
"It's alright."
"Cool, cool. So like, is there a better term I should use for you or something? I'm trying to be good about this kind of shit."
"There's not really a 'better' term, Havoc. I'm a mare, that's all there is to it."
"Okay… okay, got it. You are a mare. One hundred percent." Havoc paused, then took a breath. "But like, I hope this doesn't sound offensive either, but uh… you've still got a, like, y'know…" She gestured her hoof in a circle. "A dick?"
Cotton smiled slightly and nodded. "I do. I'm comfortable with it, and frankly a little scared about getting surgery."
"Okay, right, just… yeah. Had to be sure."
"That's not weird, is it?"
"No, no, not at all. In fact, uh..."
Havoc paused for a long moment, just looking Cotton over and realizing that the other mare really did put a lot of effort into her appearance. The only thing that had made Havoc hesitate was Cotton's slightly coltish muzzle, not quite rounded like her own or like other mares', but not the hard, sharp shape that stallions had.
A part of her was telling her that Cotton was a mare and that she should just leave it at that, turn her down, and walk away; maybe they could be friends, but that was it.
Another part of her was telling her that this was a complicated situation that had just popped into her lap, and she needed to analyze it more to figure out the proper way to process it. After all, Cotton had been upfront about everything, so she should be too, right? Treat this situation like she'd treated the whole Rainbow situation, even with the slight difference. Namely that Dash never expressed attraction to Havoc.
Another part of her, though, was telling her that what happened in Hope's Point, stayed in Hope's Point, and that this was her chance to finally clear a very particular self-confidence issue. Cotton liked her, and until the last awkward part of this conversation—before Havoc ruined everything by being self-conscious and stupid—Havoc had to admit that she might just like Cotton too if she gave it a shot.
Fuck it, she thought, draining the last of her beer. When in Hope's Point…
"'In fact...' what?" Cotton asked, tilting her head. "You kind of trailed off there."
Havoc got the attention of the bartender. "Yo barkeep! Two shots of your best whiskey!"
Cotton raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"
As the bartender came over and poured the shots swiftly, Havoc passed one over to Cotton and gestured for her to take it. "Look, I'm sorry if I turned things a little awkward. I didn't mean to rain on the little parade we were having here. So, uh… let's assume that I didn't suddenly act all… stupid and weird about stuff. What were you… um, what were you hoping to happen? B-between us?"
Havoc cursed herself for the sudden bout of nervousness. Why in the world had she gone from confident, subconscious flirting to being spineless wimp? Was it because she was thinking about it now? Shit, was this a part of Fluttershy that had managed to sneak its way into her personality? Of all the fucking things, it had to be this!
Cotton paused, then blushed and took the glass of whiskey in her hoof. "Um… to be honest, I was sort of hoping… that you and I could, y'know…" She shook her head. "But I mean, that's not—"
"Cool. Cool." Havoc clinked her glass with Cotton's, and the two took their shots together. She then signaled the bartender to pour two more, then turned back to Cotton. "So. You, uh… you wanted to take me back to your place to… fuck? Is that it?"
The whiskey was definitely calming her nerves, thank goodness. A little liquid courage went a long way for her, it seemed.
Cotton gulped, then nodded as she took the second shot glass. "I mean, if you'd agreed to it… y-yeah. I was just hoping to ask you out on a date, but if you're cool with more, so am I."
"Cool. Very cool." Havoc clinked glasses together with Cotton again, then downed her whiskey in one go before exhaling loudly and giving Cotton a smirk. "So, uh, what're we waiting for?"
"Hmm?"
"You heard me. Let's get outta here and head back to your place."
"But I thought you didn't—"
Havoc held up a hoof. "Look, this is complicated. I didn't think I was into mares but you're a mare, fine. I wouldn't want to take that away from you. Honestly, until I thought about it, I'll admit that I thought—and still think?—you're cute as hell."
"You… you really think I'm cute?" Cotton asked, wide-eyed, her hoof rising to her cheek.
"Yeah, and uh, maybe that's why I feel all weird about it, what with my orientation or whatever, 'cause now I'm super curious. Maybe I've always been curious. Bi-curious? I mean, I thought I only liked guys, but like, just delicate guys. So… fuck if I know what that means about me. Uh… yeah. Comp-li-ca-ted."
Cotton gestured at herself briefly. "So you don't mind about… me? Being a mare, but not, y'know…?"
"Not at all, if you don't mind about me being a stupid, confused idiot that can't keep her mouth shut."
"I don't mind one bit," Cotton said with a seductive flicker of eyelashes.
Havoc paused briefly, then smirked and gestured with her wing towards the door. "Then let's get the fuck outta here."
Cotton smiled and nodded. "Yes, let's."