//------------------------------// // The End of the Line // Story: When The Eagles Go Marching // by Wanderer101 //------------------------------// Marel- United States of the Americas City of Sunset Inner Party Bunker This couldn’t be happening… This couldn’t be happening… All of her hard work gone just like that! The war had only been going on for little over a week and the Americans had already taken half the country. Every hour that passed left fewer & fewer troops for the Ministry of Peace to command. She could start to see some flaws in her system at least where defense was concerned. It was hard trying to make it appear like you were winning when in truth your forces were being slaughtered on all fronts!  No! What was she saying!? Her system was perfect! They weren’t losing! They were winning! How else could they build a secret bunker deep in the heart of America? She found herself relying more and more on Doublethink as the war went on. What was originally conceived as a way for the proles and Outer Party to better deal with abrupt changes in government narrative was now a way for her and the Inner Party to cope with these recent world shattering events. A part of her couldn’t help but find the fact that their propaganda was so effective she actually started believing in it herself a little bit ironic. A majority of her psyche didn’t see it as a laughing matter unfortunately. All their dreams of a perfect equal society were going up in smoke! This was too much to deal with right now… Maybe she should take a nap… She got up from her desk and walked over to a small cot tucked away in the corner of her office. Next to it was a toilet and shelf with a number of ration bars. Not the kind of accommodations people would expect Big Sister to have especially when compared to the sheer excess the Inner Party would live in. Once they beat the Americans and the nation stabilized a bit more she would introduce her minimalist lifestyle to the Inner Party. Whether they wanted it or not… When she awoke things had not gotten better. Three divisions of Marelandian troops were overrun by American forces. She had long given the order to not surrender under any circumstances. Thoughtpolice Commissars watched the soldiers closely though this was mostly unnecessary. The Marelandian Military was her greatest success story.  Each and every soldier was absolutely fanatical and more than willing to sacrifice themselves for Marelandia.  But it still wasn't enough! The Americans were either encircling her forces or outright overrunning them! They had already taken the Harvi and Hoofington regions!  No! The Americans have not taken Harvi and Hoofington! These places have always been America's. Marelandian troops didn't die defending them. It was instead American forces futilely trying to defend their territory from them. She calmed down as those defeats no longer existed in her mind. Marelandia was invincible and she was infallible. She ordered the factories to go into overtime making weapons and ammunition for the army. The workday increased from 12 hours to 16 as proles worked to keep the army supplied. While the thought police recorded low arrests for 'bad thinkers' the equipment coming out of the factories was of poor quality. Bullets were duds, guns jammed, and vehicles typically fell apart long before reaching the battlefield. She honestly couldn't figure out the reason why their equipment was subpar without falling into the hole of doublethink. Proles sabotaging equipment? What reason would proles have to sabotage! They're happy! American bombing of their factories and supply lines? As if the Americans could bomb Marelandia! The resources going to the factories being poor quality? Marelandian resources are the best in the world! Other countries would kill to have steel as high quality as theirs! Since she was unable to formulate a reason for their poor equipment that didn't set off her doublethink she simply forgot about it. It no longer existed in her mind. She would forget about a lot of things in the coming days. From generals, military divisions, and entire towns & cities. Soon all that was left of Marelandia was the city of Hoovesplain located right on the Wingbardian border. She had the utmost confidence in the City-State of Marelandia defeating the weak American nation. While they may have only a single infantry division and a handful of Bitty Simple tanks it was more than enough to deal with the Americans. A single brave Marelandian was worth a thousand of the pitiful Americans who were starving under their oppressive leaders known as ‘Congress’. The General was in combat with the Americans right now. She expected to hear of them forced to retreat in an hour or so. When no such report came she became confused. What was taking the General so long? She tried contacting the Inner Party official in charge of Hoovesplain but her transmission didn’t go through. She wasn’t picking up any Marelandian transmissions! Just American ones claiming the ‘final’ Marelandian stronghold of Hoovesplain had fallen. She could only shake her head at such antics. Hoovesplain wasn’t a Marelandia city! Marelandia never had any cities!  BOOM! She fell out of her chair as the entire bunker shook. Concrete dust from the ceiling now coated her desk and drifted through the air. Stifling a cough she opened the door to her office. She was now inside a large conference room which is where she met with the many members of the Inner Party to discuss the state of the nati- bunker. The bunker was quite large being home to almost 200 souls. There were Inner Party, Thought Police, Outer Party bureaucrats, and Prole servants.  BOOM! What was that!? She walked down a deserted hallway towards the source of the loud noise. She passed by an open office door. She suddenly stopped in her tracks and slowly backtracked. Did she see what she thought she saw? She walked back to the open office door and peeked inside. She gasped silently as she got a good look at the scene before her. Slumped on top of the desk was Inner Party member Gear Forger. A pistol lay on the floor next to him and a bloody hole was in the side of his head. He wasn’t rotting and the blood was still flowing so this was fairly recent.  She couldn’t help but be unsettled by this. While she was no stranger to death, the protestors she watched be executed came to mind, this was different in the fact that she knew Gear Forger. He used to be a member of the Communist Party of New Mareland before she convinced him to join up with her. He was the first pony she ever convinced. He helped her hash out the structure of Marelandian Socialism and introduced her to other prominent communists. He could be considered the first member of the Inner Party so she was quite shocked to see him dead from what was obviously a self inflicted gunshot. While she didn’t believe in the tyrant Celestia’s constant spouting of the ‘magic’ of friendship she greatly enjoyed Gear’s company. Normally this would be a time to mourn but…  She looked away from this… unperson. Inner Party did not commit suicide. What reason would they have to… kill themselves in her perfect society. This was probably just some prole or Outer Party member. Yeah. That was it… She continued walking towards the source of the noise passing by other ponies & griffons performing their duties. She ignored the Thought Police officers carrying body bags out of offices. Those didn’t exist in her mind. When she reached the source of the noise and shaking her heart stopped. For the first time in years a wave of strong emotions ran through her body. It was one that she was quite familiar with having become acquainted with it when she was a starving filly: Fear. BOOM! Another small dent appeared on the great steel door that was the only entrance to the bunker. Someone was trying to blast their way in! All of the thoughts, feelings, emotions, and truths she had been repressing for so long resurfaced all at once as the reality of the situation finally hit her. They… She… had lost… Tears began to flow from her eyes as she galloped back to her office not caring about the looks she was getting from those that saw her. She barricaded herself within her office. The Americans were coming for her. She would most certainly be tried and executed by them. In the eyes of most of the world her crimes were unforgivable. Being executed in front of the whole world wasn’t something she wanted to experience. There was another way...  She opened a drawer on her desk. Her eyes widened as she looked at the small revolver sitting in the drawer. She picked it up, her hooves shaking. Were… these things supposed to be this heavy… Should she go out the way Gear did? At least it would be on her terms…  ‘NO!’ screamed a part of her mind. The years of propaganda and doublethink weren’t going quietly. Marelandia could not lose! Because… Because… Her mind went blank for a moment as it struggled to form a new pro-marelandian memory. It honestly couldn’t find a way to explain the current state of things without making Marelandia look bad. Eventually it finally came up with something and for the first time in decades she genuinely smiled… Marelandia could not lose because it didn’t exist. This place has always been the United States. We have always been ruled over by the President & Congress. We have always been Americans. MARESOC did not exist and Big Sister didn’t exist either… Sergeant Eric Stevens watched as the engineers finally started to make progress with the blast door to the Inner Party Bunker. To say that it was tough would be an understatement. It had taken them almost a month to get this thing open. First they tried blasting it open but it was far too thick. Then they tried cutting but apparently there were a few defensive spells embedded into the door keeping it from being harmed. Those turned out to be the main reason why their C4 charges caused no more than a few dents. So they had to fly over some experienced unicorns from New Manehatten to help break down the spells. That took a week because even though Marelandia looked down on Unicorn magic, going as far to cut off a unicorn’s horn, they still made sure they possessed competent battle mages. Once those were gone the Marine Corps Engineers could properly cut through the door. He checked his equipment one more time as the engineers began cutting through the last hinge. The rest of his squad did the same. They couldn’t wait to find Big Sister and make her pay for all the suffering she had caused. As they entered the Bunker they expected to come across a number of things. Elite Inner Party soldiers, brainwashed proles, or even a simple security guard. What they found though was a morgue. “Jesus christ…” muttered Rawlings as they saw the horror show before them. Ponies and griffons were strewn about the halls showing signs of having committed suicide. The place smelled just as bad as it looked. He tried to avoid breathing through his nose as they crept through the hallways. They came across a few survivors, mostly being scared starving proles. Occasionally they would happen across a member of the Thought Police or Inner Party who either attempted to fight them or begged for mercy.  Those that didn’t try to fight were arrested. The War Crimes Tribunal was still going on. So many Inner Party officials, Outer Party collaborators, and Marelandian soldiers to try for war crimes and crimes against ‘humanity’. Some of the stuff he heard MARESOC did would put the Nazis to shame. The only good thing to come of it was that Equestria had finally opened diplomatic relations with them. Princess Celestia despite the growing tensions at home had come to oversee the trial herself with a group of royal judges. Apparently someone didn’t think it was exactly fair to try the War Criminals under American Law or the Geneva Conventions since Marelandia wasn’t subject to either. So they would be tried under Equestrian law due to Marelania’s status as a former Equestrian colony. They continued through the bunker coming across a large albeit messy conference room. They heard something shuffling underneath the conference table. As the rest of the squad covered him he looked underneath the table sighing when he saw it was just a mare. She wore half of a ratty jumpsuit and looked to be severely malnourished. Her eyes were filled with fear as the darted around wildly. “Hey.” he said softly “I’m Sergeant Stevens. United States Marines. I’m not going to hurt ya. Come on out.” The mare sniffed. “Y-you promise?” she said “I promise.” he said, holding out his hand. The mare offered him her hoof and allowed him to help her out from under the table. She had a light white coat and a light blue puffy mane. Her purple eyes bore signs of her having cried recently. He asked her what was wrong and she pointed to a door marked ‘BIG SISTER’. “Dr. Double Think. He’s really really angry. He shoots anyone that gets close.” she said “He tried to kill me so I hid under the table. I don’t want to die! I’m a good prole!” “Stay here. We’ll take care of the doctor.’ he said  “Rawlings, with me.” Him and Rawlings slowly approached the door shotguns in hand. They had made sure to pick weapons more suited to close quarters fighting when they heard they would be the ones clearing the bunker. They could hear muttering on the other side of the door.  ...impossible! My theories are full proof! How could such a thing happen!? I have to find that mare and run tests on her! Opening the door they quickly pointed their weapons at the unicorn stallion pacing around the destroyed office a revolver held in his magic. The body of what looked to be a prole and a thought police officer lay near the door. The stallion was Doctor Double Think. Disgraced psychologist & neurosurgeon from Canterlot who was wanted for performing some rather unorthodox experiments in the realm of psychology and mental suggestion. There was a capture order for him so he could stand trial for his crimes.  “Doctor.” he said “You’re gonna have to come with us.” Double Think simply stood there for a moment no doubt deciding whether he should fight, surrender, or shoot himself. Eventually though he decided to throw down his gun and surrender.  “Aw well. It was fun while it lasted.” he said as they hurried forward to slip an inhibitor ring around his horn to keep him from doing magic. “Could one of you do me a favor and collect my research notes in my office. You can publicly release them if you want.” “What makes you think people want to know the kind of stuff you came up with, doctor.” one of his squad spat Double Think merely looked at him and smiled. “Then I guess all the trouble I went through to get it was all for nothing.” Double Think said simply. “While I am willing to admit my methods were… cruel. The things I learned have more than made up for it. I’m positive I’ve learned more about how the brain & memory works than even your world!” “Fine.” he said “As long as you do one more thing for me.” “Name it.”  “Where is Big Sister?” Double Think smiled. “Dead. Or at least the closest thing to it. Such a shame really. I really wanted to know how it happened…” Double Think refused to elaborate further. After handing him over to the MPs outside the bunker they continued securing the place. All in all they only found 37 ponies & 7 griffons still alive. They were all mostly proles & Outer Party. Apparently all the Inner Party & Thought Police killed themselves when they heard that the last Marelandian stronghold in Hoovesplain had fallen. The bunker was filled with numerous corpses with even more having been cremated in the bunker’s morgue before the last of the Thought Police snapped. Big Sister’s body wasn’t found most likely having been incinerated. Like Adolf Hitler’s Third Reich it seemed that Big Sister’s Marelandia had ended without final justice being served to the guilty parties. “Can’t believe after everything she had done Big Sister got to go out on her on fucking terms.” Rawlings said bitterly as he smoked a cigarette. “Pisses me off…” “I hear tha-'' he started to agree only to feel something on his leg. Looking down he saw that it was that mare from earlier. She was no longer crying but she was holding onto his leg for dear life which wasn’t none too comfortable. Ponies while they were not as big as Earth Horses weren’t exactly small either. They ranged from half the size of a normal human to being slightly taller when standing on all fours.  “Uh… miss.” he said as the squad snickered “Could you let go of my leg?” The mare reluctantly let go of his leg but still stayed as close as she could. “Aww.” said Rawlings “You made a new friend, sarge.” Ignoring his squad he instead looked at the mare and asked her what was she doing. ‘I want to go with you.” she said “I’m sorry, miss…” “Berry. Berry Swirl.” she said “Miss Berry. But you have to go with the other proles.” he said pointing to a medical truck taking proles to a hospital ship down at the docks. There were so many things to treat on proles. Malnorishment, disease, and they had to undergo extensive deprogramming to get rid of their prole mindset. “Don’t worry. I’ll visit.” he said when she looked apprehensive.  “Your promise?”  “I promise.” he said to which she nodded. He waved at her as the truck started to drive off. When it was out of sight the squad started laughing.  “Geez, sarge.” said Rawlings “Already getting started on that time honored American tradition, huh?” “What tradition?” he asked confused “My grandpa on my mother’s side met my grandma while he was occupying Japan.” Rawlings replied grinning. It took all his willpower not to blush and slug Rawlings. “Go to hell, Rawlings.” he said walking over to a nearby unicorn stallion wearing the uniform of the new Marine Corps Battle Mages. He tapped the unicorn on the shoulder and asked him “Hey you know about those ‘cutie marks’, right.” “Yeah.” said the unicorn “I took a class on ‘em back in Equestria. Why?” “That mare from before. I’ve seen ponies around with their cutie marks burned off but what about ponies that don’t have any to begin with.” he said. He noticed it back in the bunker and immediately thought it odd since he hadn’t seen anything like that before. “A blank flank.” the unicorn nodded in understanding “It’s rare but sometimes a pony can go into adulthood without ever gaining a cutie mark. It can be a result of severe childhood trauma and low self-esteem issues. That mare probably didn’t have that good of a life before MARESOC took over! Can imagine being a prole didn’t do her any favors.” He nodded in understanding but something still ate at him. While initially he planned on blowing it off he was thinking that maybe he should actually visit her.