//------------------------------// // Second Offensive: 6 - Difficult Diplomacy // Story: Into the Storm: The Flight of Firefly // by Firesight //------------------------------// Dear readers— ‘Tis been a week since I last heard from Gavian, and I admit, I am starting to worry. I did receive a slightly cryptic message from Ambassador Kaval saying my son might be out of contact for a bit for reasons he was unable to disclose, and not to fret. But as his mother, ‘tis simply impossible for me not to. Nor have I received any letters from Firehawk, though ‘twas hardly unexpected—her circuitous journey to the shores of the Ebon Ocean does not allow for easy correspondence. I know not the route she took, which was deliberate; as this is a private expedition that has no Kingdom sponsorship, they cannot travel by way of Kingdom lands. I know she can take care of herself, having seen action in the Corps fighting the fragmented remains of the Diabla dragon clan and Harpie pirate skiffs. And yet, it matters little to a mother’s worry—‘tis simply very difficult for me to not know what is happening. But as Fell Flight reminds me, seemingly once again serving as my second and closest advisor, there is nothing I can do, and thus ‘tis pointless to dwell on my fears. She is right as always, so I shall turn my attention back to General Rock Biter’s visit to his old battlefields. ‘Tis getting close to December and the coming of winter now, especially further poleward as we are, with cold breezes out of the frozen north whipping up lines of clouds off the newly formed—or perchance I should say, restored—Heron Sea. As ‘tis more trouble for pegasi to dissipate these squalls than ‘tis typically worth, they are oft ignored and allowed to deposit their rain or even snow this late in the season. Whilst the pegasi would normally trigger a storm, causing the clouds to drop the entirety of their loads at once, in this instance, it would lead to destructive flash flooding and mudslides as the restored sea continues to slowly fill. The leaves are off the cherry, peach and apple trees around the base of Harness Hill now, thanks to the Running of the Leaves ceremony we were privileged to not just witness, but take part in. ‘Tis an earth pony tradition both unicorns and pegasi can join in, able to use magic or the wind from our wings to knock the leaves free just as earth ponies can by simply pounding their hooves against the ground. Twas fun, even if Fell Flight and Oberen got a little too competitive, alternately trying to outrace or outwit each other by means both fair and foul. Even the General, after some urging and cider, took part in it, though he initially demurred, saying ‘twas something they let the younger ponies back home do as a matter of fun but a ritual he never participated in himself. Though slightly awkward for him at first, he did crack a grin, and even participated in some of the games the town played during the yearly festival. Being around him now and listening to him reminisce, there are times I wonder if he never learned how to enjoy himself. Nevertheless, I am here for him, letting my sister take over teaching my classes at the Equestrian Officer Academy in Canterlot for the end of the fall session. ‘Tis something she would only do at my direct request, though it helps that it also allows her to stay close to father. For those curious, he continues to slowly improve and has now gained around half the muscle mobility needed for flight—after nearly four months of intensive therapy and some surprising aid from the Changelings, who departed Canterlot weeks ago. He still follows these works, of course, and wishes to meet General Rock Biter himself, but he is still too frail to travel far. Speaking of the Changelings, I bear some intriguing news of them, but I have agreed not to talk about it until their trail goes cold. —Captain Firefly Bolt Knight Captain Emeritus Military History and Tactics Instructor Equestrian Officer Academy Canterlot Oh, Admiral Tailwind wishes to see me? Then perchance I will make it a point to come to Canterlot and visit him. Greetings, readers. ‘Tis Rock Biter speaking again, and there is little I would add to the Captain’s account except to say that for one of a very few times, I find myself outwitted by a rival commander. We were at the Inn where me and my former comrades were staying, eating dinner and reminiscing over several mugs of cider. I admit I was feeling somewhat forlorn after the festival, as my aversion to having fun and enjoying life remains. I posed the question—was I really a good commander? Had I truly learned anything along the way, given the butcher bill I eventually racked up? Or did I simply bludgeon my way to victory and win by throwing lives and bodies at the gryphons in hopes they would run out of them before we did? In response, Captain Firefly told me in perfect earnestness that she saw no issues with anything I had done at Harness Hill, and nothing that could be improved. Despite the alcohol in my system, I openly scoffed. I began to recite my litany of errors, from failure to recommend reinforcing the hill with more than a militia company to not scouting the crossroads, to attacking piecemeal in hopes I could ambush their magus. And once I was finished with that, I outlined everything I should have done. The crossroads should have been scouted with Pathfinder squads, followed by unicorns disabling the trip gems and any anti-intrusion enchantments. They then should have laid a magical shroud over the area as we eliminated the forward force by teleporting in earth ponies and unicorns to slay the sentries with blade and bow whilst they were still digging in. Done properly, they would not even be able to draw their scimitars before they died. Surprise retained, I would then not have bothered with an echelon attack and simply stormed the hill in column order, diverting the mages and their main body by making a show of attack with a single platoon off to one side, firing flares and arrows whilst the main attack went in from the blindside. Their force split by the deception, we would have crested the hill and reached the town almost before they knew we were there. Our initial volleys would have slain the airborne sky griffons and forced the rest to ground where our earth ponies would have made short work of them. In the end, ‘twas certain that a more experienced unit and commander could have cleared the hill quickly and cheaply, losing but a score of troops when our casualties were in the hundreds before... ‘Twas then I realized she was giving me a knowing grin and nodding, and ‘twas only at that moment I realized what she’d just done—tricked me into answering my own question. I had instantly solved the tactical problem of that day with all the hard-learned experience and acumen I had gained over the course of the conflict. Experience and acumen which ‘tis certain I did not have at the start of the war. In relating this tale, I am reminded that warfare is as much psychological as physical, and the Captain showed here why she remains a master of it. But at this moment, I find myself not inclined to write, instead simply wishing to walk out under the stars and pitch a tent in the town square to mimic my first wartime stay there. My old soldiers are more than willing to join me, and thus, I finish writing this around a campfire flame in the ceremonial firepit in front of the town memorial, whilst we sing a song. ‘Tis a great melancholy I feel now, and yet, ‘tis not over our losses, but for how long I failed to face my fears after the war, shunning my soldier kindred. Methinks I will surrender the pen for now, as our next clash with Imperial forces would not come until morning. And odd as it sounds, I would rather it be dawn again as it was then to relate it. My old comrades will sound reveille, at which point we will eat a soldier’s breakfast of dry grass, a few plucked wild onions and a small ration of molasses washed down with some weak tea. In the meantime, I believe ‘tis time for Captain Firefly to relate a story from her side of Equestria. If nothing else, methinks she will appreciate the distraction. —Rock Biter Thank you, General. And with apologies, I know you do not like being addressed by your old rank, but I simply cannot call you by a familiar term. Even now, you are still my superior, and ‘tis no lie to say that your role in the conflict dwarfed mine. The Bolt Knights were a symbol, as was I as their leader. But we could not win the war from the air no matter how many enemy soldiers we slew. Ultimately, only you and the Equestrian Army could do so from the ground. But with a quarter—and soon to be over a third—of that Army lost in the first few days of the conflict as the border defenses were crushed and the entire 1st Corps at Maresk stood enveloped and in danger of annihilation, we needed allies and additional soldiers. ‘Twas thus from the fourth pony tribe that Captain Typhoon, acting on the authority of Princess Celestia, sought them. I am not privy to those negotiations, though they were faithfully recorded by his adjutant, Total Recall, and passed to the Princess later. Though I could simply include her minutes of the meeting here, ‘twould make for very dry reading and not have the same effect as seeing things from the Nightborne point of view. Nor would it be fair to deny our much-maligned Nightborne friends the chance to make their side of the story plain, given the vital role they were yet to play. Welcome back to the story, Viceroy, and as the time of Thestralslovakia’s entry into the war approaches, ‘tis certain you will be heard from considerably more oft going forward. —Firefly Thank you, Captain. And greetings to all from the Nightborne nation once more. ‘Tis Viceroy Europa Universalis IV speaking again. And know I have followed this ongoing work with great interest since the first entry I wrote, a full year ago. For what ‘tis worth, I wish I had been in Canterlot to meet Queen Scylla Lepidoptes, for ‘tis rare to find a race who knows stealth even better than we. But ‘twas decided that ‘twould be best to stay away for now, rather than present an uneasy Canterlot with not one but two state visits belonging to races whose motives remain suspect, even now. We are used to it, but perchance I hoped that our wartime alliance and the role we played would win us more favor than it has. ‘Tis true that the Canterlot thestral enclave is well established by now, and we have even received Princess Celestia yearly, who has withdrawn all Equestrian military units and takes pains to visit her sister’s shrine every time she comes. I have seen for myself her grief and the tears she cries over our beloved regent, the lost Princess Luna, renewing her oath yearly to yet see her restored. She herself has told us that acceptance will be a gradual process, and ‘tis true, as she reminds us, that great strides have been made in that direction. And yet… we want more. More acceptance, more trade, more visits. We have much to offer the pony nation and world, from our wines to our weapons to our irrigation and food preservation techniques. And there is much we need in return, from improved crop yields to the ores, crystals, and other raw materials that ‘tis difficult for us to mine, unsuited as our bodies are for the task or simply due to the fact that we are resource-pour and certain magical minerals are simply not present within our borders. In picking back up the quill to describe our coming entry into the war, I would ask all reading to recall the severe pressure we were under from both sides in the early days of the conflict, and the difficult juggling act we were forced to perform. On the one wing was the Sovereignty Settlement with Princess Celestia, which we had signed three centuries prior that required us to act in Equestria’s defense. On the other was an Imperial offer of alliance and a guarantee of postwar independence; seemingly all our greatest geopolitical wishes served up on a platter. ‘Twas an offer backed by at least three legions of Talons poised on our eastern borders with more arriving; we were not blind to the fact that one of the aims of their second offensive seemed to be slowly surrounding us. And that was to say nothing of the uncertain intentions of the Highborne to our west, whose standing forces were less than half ours but had ample reason to hate us. But I cannot speak for them. Only for the Nightborne side as Captain Typhoon arrived from Cloudsdale in the presence of a single aide and two Celestial Guardsponies, as well as Commander Tailwind of the Loyalty. —Europa Universalis IV Viceroy of the Lunar Council Hollow Shades Thestralslovakia Word of Captain Typhoon’s appearance at Cloudsdale and coming visit to Hollow Shades had been received by the Lunar Council with no little consternation. ‘Twas but the latest in what seemed a long litany of unwelcome news, not the least of which ‘twas that the aim of the latest Imperial operation appeared to be one of gradual encirclement as a possible prelude to outright invasion. But equally upsetting was word that our most senior and trusted division commander, Major General Muscadine, had been slain by one of his immediate subordinates. She had done so for his openly subverting the will of the Lunar Council, attempting to provoke conflict by denying the sky city ordered aid. We knew not at that point all he had done or how grave his betrayal was, but the ongoing investigation of his actions and search for possible collaborators amongst his staff was put aside in the face of far more immediate concerns. For ‘twas nearly time to receive the Captain of Celestia’s Royal Guard, and what ‘twas certain to be less a request than outright order that we go to war on Equestria’s behalf. Even as Captain Typhoon was en route to Hollow Shades from Cloudsdale, the Councilbats were still heatedly debating what our response to his expected demands would be. The endless arguments caused my wingfingers to cramp as I continually took the minutes of the meeting, forcing me to fall back on using my hoof or muzzle more than once. Methinks the battle lines of the debate had been sharply drawn on the first night of the war and had not budged since, with three equally intractable factions presenting themselves. Minister of State Small Talk backed by Viceroy Chardonnay advocated siding with Equestria whilst Minister of Agriculture Lord Shiraz and Councilor Corvis of the Everfree territory wanted to ally with the Imperials, in exchange for offers of independence and territorial guarantees. Then there was General Starry Skies, who believed the Nightborne Army was strong enough to enforce our neutrality and defend our borders from either side. His overconfidence led the remaining third of the Lunar Council to believe—foalishly, in my unspoken opinion, even then—‘twas possible to stay out of the conflict entirely regardless of any prior agreements or diplomatic pressure applied. As any course of action away from our presently peaceful posture—from simply signing a treaty to an outright declaration of war—would require two-thirds of the Councilbats to vote aye, the result of the three-way split was political paralysis within the Lunar Council, with continued neutrality as the default result. At that point, ‘tis worth reminding readers, I held not my current lofty station but a far more humble one; I was but a lowly junior aide to the Viceroy. In truth, methinks I was little more than a glorified gofer—a term I would later learn from the ponies. ‘Twas my duty to take the transcripts of meetings, pass messages or retrieve desired documentation; ‘twas not my place to speak up in an arena where only elected or appointed leaders had a say. But strong and increasingly strident opinions on the matter I had, especially as I listened to debates over dire decisions repeatedly boil down to a simple clash of egos. I couldn’t help but note that as the fifth day of war approached, we had reached consensus on nothing but agreeing to shelter and aid Cloudsdale. And even that had been less out of compassion for their plight than in hopes of keeping them there long enough to attain some military and diplomatic advantage over the Empire and Equestria, regardless of whatever decision was reached. Yes, Captain Shady’s guess that we were trying to gain leverage with the two sides in the earlier volume was correct when she confronted Colonel Aegir Ale on the foredeck of her ship. We needed bargaining chips, and though we did not know of the Loyalty’s approach given that fact was hidden from us by Major General Muscadine, an airship would be but another prize we could trade for a pact or peace. ‘Tis no way to say what the Lunar Council would have decided had the news of the Loyalty’s arrival reached them. But I suspect that had they known, Colonel Ale and the entire 3rd division would have been instructed not to board them, but instead to let them arrive at Cloudsdale but then not let them leave. For the sky city was our biggest bargaining chip just then, to use the cardplaying term, and with some deft diplomacy, perchance both it and the Loyalty could be traded for neutrality. Or even outright independence. But deft diplomacy was not something that seemed possible to me just then as I listened to the debate degenerate into displays of jingoism and demands to duel. The Council was deadlocked, and I admit to feeling both dread and hope that Captain Typhoon might be the one to break the stalemate in either direction. I was neither an appointed nor elected official. I took orders; I did not give them. And yet, methinks I sensed even then that neutrality was impossible regardless of the wishful thinking of the General and others—that the conflict would come for us whether we wanted it or not. And as a trumpet sounded to announce the arrival of Captain Typhoon in the Council’s chambers for what promised to be some unwelcome orders to aid Equestria, I wondered what the next few hours would bring. Council Convened Europa Universalis IV - Original Soundtrack/OST - Main Track Lunar Council Chambers Hollow Shades Thestralslovakia September 5th, 1139 AL [Anno Lunae] 0130 Hours “Welcome to the sacred hall of the Lunar Council, Captain Typhoon,” Viceroy Chardonnay announced as he was presented to the chamber, accompanied by a single unicorn aide, Royal Navy officer and two gold-armored Celestial Guardponies that already looked to have seen action in the conflict. “‘Twas from here that the Lunar Republic of our great and illustrious Princess Luna was born.” Captain Typhoon did not react to the unsubtle reminder that we considered ourselves apart from the ponies, and neither did the two Guardsponies or single Naval commander flanking him. One of the former was a pegasus, with his right eye covered in black cloth beneath his cloven helmet—from the ugly damage to his helm, it looked like he had taken an axe to the head; I didn’t want to think about what he looked like underneath—and also had a healing wound on his side from what might have been a thrown spear. The other was an earth pony bearing battered armor that had been clearly penetrated by crossbow bolts in at least two points, and whose chest plate appeared to have been hastily patched and hammered out. That they had come armed, with the former wearing sheathed wingblades and the latter equipped with a crossbow, a spear on his back and a sword strapped to his side in a place where no weapons were supposed to be was not received well; the expressions of the Councilbats ranged from disdain to worry to outright hate depending on where you looked. Then again, we were putting on our own display of military might. The chambers were lined with fully-armed sentries, and we had made the Captain and his escorts walk from his docked transport into the Hall between two entire battalions of battle-ready Nightborne soldiers; their protective goggles removed so their eyes would glow red under the crimson light of our regent’s sacred moon. ‘Twas meant to be an intimidating display for any outsider—a reminder that the Nightborne nation remained unbowed and battle-ready three centuries after the War of the Celestial Sisters; still very much steeped in our soldier traditions. But the Captain and his flanking Celestial Guard sentries barely batted an eye as they passed between the ordered ranks, though his aide—a young unicorn mare who looked barely into adulthood—appeared discomfited. Also present was a third, older stallion swathed in Royal Navy finery. He was introduced as Commander Tailwind, first officer of the EAS Loyalty. Perchance he was there to remind us that the old service branch of Princess Luna remained...? I knew not just then. Nevertheless, the Viceroy tried to be gracious as the Councilbats stood at their desks whilst Typhoon and his entire entourage entered; to his credit, the leader of the Lunar Council hid his true feelings on the visit well and I could not discern anything from his tone or visage. “Before we begin, Captain Typhoon, word has reached us from Brigadier General Blackhawk of your desire for some slow-cooked flying boar. We have already started its preparation. ‘Twill be ready before daybreak, so we will be more than happy to serve you such a meal, upon the successful conclusion of our negotiations here,” he offered in greeting whilst the mood around the Council was far less amicable. “I thank the Council for their hospitality,” the Captain offered with a respectful nod in a surprisingly deep voice. He certainly had a powerful presence between his large form and hurricane cutie mark; we had heard that his control of the wind was so strong that he could turn the air around him into a tempest with nary a thought or gesture. “But I regret that I am not here to eat.” To Serve the Sun Europa Universalis IV - Original Soundtrack/OST - Battle of Breitenfeld “True. You are here to drag us into Celestia’s war,” Councilor Corvis spoke up. He had never been one to stay silent or observe diplomatic niceties, and ‘twas certain he had the least patience of the entire Lunar Council for ponies. “A war we want no part of.” “Speak for yourself,” Small Talk replied through narrowed eyes, then switched to Romareian so the Captain would not understand her. “And hard though I know it is for an ill-bred farmwing like you, mind your manners in the presence of our honored guest.” Her words elicited a hiss. “‘Tis quite all right. I did not expect a warm welcome, Madam Minister,” Typhoon startled us by replying casually in the same tongue. “For I know well that what I have to say ‘tis likely to be ill-received.” His remarks might have met with more angry words as he stepped forward to the center of the chamber under the red-hued moonbeam that came through the skylight, but his mere presence was so commanding that none spoke. “Listen and take heed, bats of the Lunar Council: I have neither the time nor the patience for diplomatic niceties, so let us speak openly and directly on the matter at wing. I am here at the direction of My Princess to remind you of your obligations to the pony nation—obligations that render your declaration of neutrality both untenable and unacceptable.” He paused before proceeding, letting the grumbling die down. “Equestria stands invaded by a mighty foe. A foe that has already shown an appalling willingness to slay civilians or worse, use them in their operations. A foe that respects neither borders nor prior agreements. A foe that will not stop with us. And a foe that we are well aware has solicited your aid!” He silenced the eruption of angry noises with a sudden outward blast of wind he created simply by raising his wings. His storm scattered pieces of parchment and caused faces to flinch away; at a whispered order from the leader of the Capital regiment, the troops in the chamber donned their goggles to hide their eyes and protect them from another gale. When the breeze had settled, his slightly-nervous-looking unicorn aide brought out a sheath of documents and, at the Captain’s order, began magically passing them out to the various desks. ‘Twas a breach of protocol as that normally would fall to me or another orderly to do, but nobat said anything more. “These are EIS communications intercepts,” he told us. “They show the messages that have been passed to you. I assume that at least some of you will be able to confirm their validity. In short, we know that the gryphons have offered you vengeance and independence if you wouldst but side with them,” he informed us ominously. “To this point, you have resisted this offer, which ‘tis fortunate. Needless to say, the Princess—to say nothing of all Equestria—would take a very dim view of such an arrangement. ‘Twould not only be a gross betrayal of the nation that shelters and aids you, but be a direct violation of the Sovereignty Settlement you signed in the year 803 of the Celestial Diarchy.” “That treaty was signed under duress!” Lord Shiraz recovered his nerve first. “After the loss of our beloved leader, and at the point of a pony blade!” he declared to a series of wingclaps and angry shouts of agreement. “Be that as it may, the terms of that agreement following the defeat of the Lunar Rebellion were quite generous, allowing you to keep your lands and even a measure of autonomy despite your uprising against the Solar crown,” the Captain replied evenly, impressing me that he did not raise his voice or respond in angry tones. Indeed, his cool temper and ability to keep his voice level reminded me of Small Talk at her best, but unlike her, he could add a genuinely intimidating aura to his words. An aura that he then demonstrated by lowering his head and causing the breeze in the room to pick up again. “Terms and lands that will be summarily withdrawn should you fail to adhere to your oaths.” “We swore no oath to Celestia,” responded General Starry Skies, who rose to enter the floor of the chamber, daring to approach Typhoon himself. “Our loyalty, Captain Typhoon, is not to your precious Princess. ‘Tis only to our regent, who your Princess took from us without remorse or mercy! Our only loyalty is to the very Mare in the Moon!” More wingclaps were heard as well as hooves thumping repeatedly on tables. “‘Tis not true that Celestia shows no remorse over her lost sister,” Small Talk spoke up for the second time. “I have seen her speak of Luna in reverent tones. I have seen the sorrow in her eyes. She truly misses her and deeply regrets her actions both before and during the war, blaming herself for Luna’s fall into the thrall of The Nightmare.” Captain Typhoon gave her a surprised and grateful nod, though any goodwill the remark might have garnered was quickly crushed by the next voice to speak. “So she cries rockadile tears in public whilst she secretly revels in her sister’s capture, raising her face to mock us nightly,” Minister Shiraz all but sneered. “She should be trapped there, not our beloved regent!” “Enough!” Captain Typhoon shouted, raising his voice for the first time against the fresh eruption of concurring wingclaps. “I did not come here to listen to you slander My Princess! Nor did I come here, hat in hoof, to request your aid,” he told us all. “I am here on behalf of My Princess to order it! The terms of the Sovereignty Settlement are clear, and the only negotiations I will engage in are for just how your military will be used, and how ‘tis to be integrated with that of Equestria for the duration of the conflict!” “What?” Starry Skies flared his large wings in ire; methinks he was ready to challenge the Captain to a duel on the spot. The Captain, however, was unimpressed by the display. “You heard me, General. Your mobilized army has four well-trained divisions available for immediate action, and ‘tis believed you can raise at least two more.” The General looked on the verge of saying something boastful, only to snap his muzzle shut at the realization that anything he might state would give away more than he wished of our numbers or capabilities. I could tell his reaction was not lost on the clever Captain, who smiled slyly; methinks I was quickly coming to realize he had not gained his post through nepotism or political connections in Celestia’s court. “Three more, then. We are also aware that you have cobbled together a single naval squadron centered on a small frigate with three escorts, even equipping them with some light ballistae from your meager stocks of metal. And from what I have seen, your crossbows are far more advanced than ours as well—reloadable, even in the air,” he mused, mostly to himself. “‘Tis truly an impressive feat, the quality of soldiers and equipment you have been able to raise even with limited resources. Soldiers and equipment that Equestria needs immediately. Your entry in the war would instantly make good our losses, forcing the gryphons into a far more difficult fight that would overtax their advance in multiple sectors and help us slowly bleed their forces dry.” “And ours!” Starry Skies pointed out. “You wouldst use us as a shield for all Equestria, spending their strength on our Army! We would be left with no means of defense after, at which point you could take our lands easily!” The Captain gave a derisive snort. “The Princess could have taken your lands any time in the past three hundred years, General. But she has not,” he reminded us all. “She has faithfully followed the terms of the Sovereignty Settlement, and left you to your own affairs as much as possible. And all she has asked in return for your land and water supply are yearly taxes and to keep watch over the Everfree. Methinks these terms are hardly onerous!” “Then perchance you wouldst wish to live under the rule of a hated enemy, with limited resources and no real authority! Dependent on their whims whilst they leave you a few fetid lakes and limited lands to fight with a rival tribe over,” Shiraz stated sullenly. That you and the so-called Highborne do not get along is neither our fault nor concern,” Typhoon replied blandly. “My only concern at this moment is overseeing your entry into the war, and explaining what we need from you.” The Captain then turned to his unicorn aide and spoke a quick aside in Equish. At his direction, she closed her eyes and projected an image into the air; it showed a map of eastern Equestria, including Thestralslovakia’s borders. The Captain then picked up a pointer with a hoof and took flight to hover in front of the glowing image, whose intensity caused us to grimace slightly. “Your immediate course of action is plain: strike here with two divisions, and aim for Horseshoe Bay.” He motioned to the area in the vicinity of Fort Feathertop and Mareasses, which we knew to be already captured by the Empire. “And launch a supporting attack with a third division in the south, aimed at the headwaters of the Jenny River.” “Their supply lines cut, this will force the three gryphon legions advancing south to surround you to abandon their offensive and fall back on the coast. But this will prove impossible as the Equestrian Army attacks from the south with two divisions of our own. “As you can see, we will recapture the Provincial Capital of Richland, trapping the 7th Talon legion to the west whilst the 6th and 12th will be pinned against the Campelonian Coastline and Horseshoe Bay, where they can be crushed at leisure. Perchance their sky gryphon soldiers can escape the trap. But their more numerous earth gryphons cannot.” He smiled thinly. “And you think the Empire will just sit idly by whilst we carry out this idiotic operation?” Starry Skies scoffed. “There is little else they can do for now, General. As the main gryphon effort appears to be in the north, the south is but a sideshow and cannot as yet be heavily reinforced. In summary, attack east, and you can cut off three of the five gryphon legions moving to encircle your homeland. “This will remove the immediate threat to Thestralslovakia and relieve pressure in the north as they are forced to redeploy their limited forces to stabilize the south. ‘Twill not win the war with perchance another dozen legions on the way, but ‘twill buy us the time we need to fully mobilize and raise additional divisions, compelling the gryphons to abandon what appears to be an attempt to bypass our main defenses whilst strengthening the center,” he concluded, returning to ground and folding his feathered wings as his aide cut the projection. “Do so, and the Princess will hold your oaths to defend Equestria upheld, rewarding you richly,” he promised, but then his eyes narrowed. “Fail to do so, and she will respond by seizing your lands and ejecting you from Equestria once we emerge triumphant. Or perchance if we lose, the gryphons will do it instead.” Hard Truths Europa Universalis - Official Soundtrack/OST - Ride Forth Victoriously The blandly delivered warning elicited a series of angry hisses and growls. “We do not respond well to threats, Captain,” Starry Skies warned him with flared wings. “If you think the gryphons to be an implacable foe, know that we would violently and fanatically resist any Equestrian attempt to expel us from our Fatherland!” he said heatedly but quietly, going nose to nose with the taller pegasus. “I know that you do not respond well to threats, General. For if you didst, you wouldst have already attacked the gryphons moving to surround you,” the Captain replied in the same vein. I couldn’t help but notice that Commander Tailwind grinned at the dig—he spoke Romearean as well? “Instead, you huddle like a jackalope in their burrow as the scorpions gather around you, hoping they will eat you last.” “How dare you!” The General acted like he’d been slapped with a wing. “Take care, Captain. For I have dueled and slain other bats for lesser affronts!” He reared up and went for his weapons belt with both hoof and wingfingers, donning his double-bladed hoofstrikers on the former and wielding a pair of blades in the latter. Thus armed, he presented the Captain with an intimidating display of not two but four weapons he could fight with simultaneously. “We will defend our lands aggressively against any intrusion, pony or gryphon! Be assured that if the latter ventures into our lands, my soldiers will make them quickly and sorely regret it!” He emphasized his words by whirling two of the blades in his wingtalons. But far from impressed. The Captain’s turquoise eyes narrowed dangerously and his wind rose again. “‘Tis not me who should take care, General. For if it takes a duel and defeat to make you and the rest of this Lunar Council see reason, then I will be more than happy to oblige you,” he warned, making a series of sweeping motions from his wings to gather the humid night air in the chamber into a cloud before our eyes. A cloud he then drew a hoof across to elicit an ominous and dangerously audible static charge. It lit up the chamber with electrical sparks and caused eyes to flinch away; the Captain making clear he could fire one or more lightning bolts from it! “I have already overseen one duel to the death this night, and must yet deal with its aftermath when I return. That said, I would rather not have to slay you, General Starry Skies, as we need experienced commanders who know their forces well. Especially for the operation I order.” To his credit, the General did not flinch from the display, continuing to spin his blades in his wingtalons whilst moving his worn hoof claws into a crossguard position, which I knew was meant to defend him against both magical and close-range physical attacks. “I do not take orders from you!” “Then mayhap that will be the terms of your duel defeat,” Captain Typhoon suggested easily with an arched eyeridge; he never raised his voice, but the threat that underlay his words was heard loud and clear. “In case you are under any illusions, I am quite capable of combat. So challenge me at your peril, you obtuse and arrogant bat.” He turned the cloud into a violently sparking ball for emphasis, then generated a miniature whirlwind around him that ruffled manes and sucked loose pieces of parchment towards it. He followed that up by letting the cloud be sucked up into it where it briefly turned the entire sharply defined vortex into a dangerously writhing, lightning-charged mass. Once the nature of his horrific creation was apparent—I am not ashamed to say ‘twas enough to make my pen falter and cheeks pale mightily—he dissipated it with but a motion of a wing, causing the air to still and sucked-up papers to settle back to the floor. His power made plain—the rumors were true; he was an air elemental, possessing control of the wind far beyond normal pegasi!—the council fell silent. “So is this your intention, then?” Starry Skies sheathed his blades and settled back to all fours. “Threaten us with death if we do not comply?” “I did not come here to kill anycreature this night, whether bat or pony, General. I am a soldier; I do not slay for sport or pleasure—even when dealing with supreme stupidity like yours. I am simply making clear what the Sovereignty Settlement requires of you. What it requires of all of you!” He raised his voice briefly to address the cowed chamber, and then turned his gaze back on the silent but still-smoldering General. “The EIS says you are a skilled soldier and an excellent warrior, to say nothing of a competent but overconfident commander, General Starry Skies. ‘Tis an assessment I am forced to agree with, as you seem unduly certain that a mere four divisions could hold back the Imperial tide—they cannot. In this matter, you must put aside your pride and look at the situation dispassionately.” “And you think I have not?” The General asked haughtily. “Even our regular soldiers are elite by your standards! And methinks I can read a map as well as you!” “I wonder. For were that the case, then a simple glance at that map would tell you that with every day that passes, more of your land is encircled and the fewer your options become. That for every mile of territory the gryphons gain, your choices become fewer and your forces are stretched thinner until your entire army becomes but a weak shell of an egg that can be easily pierced and crushed!” At a second nod to his aide, the map became animated. As we watched, it showed more and more symbols of gryphon legions arriving and encircling Thestralslovakia, forcing us to spread our available forces so thin that when they finally did strike, converging on Hollow Shades, every one of our units was swiftly overwhelmed and annihilated, disappearing in fire. ‘Twas not only an ominous display, but an impressive example of unicorn spellcasting from his aide, leaving me wondering where she’d learned such skills at such a young age. “Captain Typhoon,” Viceroy Chardonnay spoke up for the first time since the start of the summit, speaking in measured tones. “Please do not think us unaware of the danger or unsympathetic to the peril Equestria faces. But you ask a great deal of us. Sovereignty Settlement or no, I think you wouldst agree that our first responsibility is not to Equestria, but to our own bats and borders,” he offered diplomatically. “And we are far from convinced that what you propose is in the interest of either.” His words elicited an eruption of appreciative wingclaps and screeing cheers. “Well said, Viceroy!” Starry Skies praised. “So answer us plainly, Captain: why should we risk open war when the main gryphon advance clearly appears to be bypassing us far to the north?” “Because open war is already upon you,” Typhoon replied as if ‘twas self-evident, “whether you wouldst wish it or not. The only choice you can make now is whether it comes on your terms, or those of the gryphons. Whether you strike now when the advantage may be yours, or if you wait until there is none left, when Thestralslovakia’s fate is sealed.” He ordered his aide to repeat the display, which instantly silenced the Councilbats again. “To believe that the Nightborne can remain out of the war ‘tis the sheerest form of folly, Viceroy. If you do not believe me, know that we, too, thought war with the Empire was unthinkable. That they could not or would not launch an invasion with their homeland so far away. “The results of such foalish and wishful thinking… now stand before you in the form of many bloodied ponies. Some of our wounds are obvious, but others are not. First, I invite you all to meet my adjudant, Total Recall.” His tone suddenly turned far more gentle as he urged her reluctant form forward with a wing. “If you think she is far too young for her post, you are correct. For at the time of the war’s outbreak, she was apprenticing under the guidance of my longtime and trusted aide, Eidetic Memory.” “And the point of this is… what?” An annoyed Councilor Corvis asked. “The point, Councilbat, is that she was forced to watch as her beloved mentor and a second aide tried to kill me as they delivered news of the Imperial invasion to my bedside! Despite her pleas and attempts to stop them, they made to pin me and slash my throat with their unicorn powers,” he pronounced as the young mare began to cry. He draped a wing over her back as he went on. “I was forced to kill them in turn, and she was forced to witness it. And if you wonder why they turned traitor, they had been coltnapped by Diamond Dogs for purposes of implanting gryphon-made mind control gems within them! Gems that forced them to act against their hearts and duty as spies and even assassins if the time ever came, not even knowing they were compromised!” He paused to let the chilling words sink in. “I regret to say, ‘twas a brilliant and quite brutal tactic that succeeded in wreaking havoc in Canterlot on the first day of the war. As appallingly thorough as their Office of Owls has been in this matter, ‘tis folly to believe there are not some compromised ponies amongst your ranks as well,” he mused, causing eyes to suddenly dart back and forth in worry. “But lest you think the gryphons are incapable of direct combat against elite soldiers and emerging victorious over them… Spear Sergeant Steelheart! Master Sergeant Stormrunner! Step forth into the moonlight. Remove your helms and bandages,” he directed in Equish to the gold-armored Guardsponies flanking him, who promptly did so without a word. The earth pony removed his intact helmet to show a lurid series of healing talon slashes on his face. He then released his clearly patched and hammered-out breastplate, which fell to the ground with a loud clatter to show his chest was heavily bandaged; he even had a series of glowing magical wires visible right through the fabric that showed his ribs had been broken and reset, held in place while they were mending. Methinks I did not even want to think of what force it took to crush his ribcage right through a thick steel plate. But worse was yet to come. Once he was done with his display, ‘twas the pegasus stallion’s turn. He set his half-cleaved helmet aside and then unwrapped the right side of his face to reveal… The council both visibly and audibly recoiled from the sight of the pegasus stallion bearing a long and ugly cross-stitched scar that perfectly bisected his missing eye. The area was still crusty with dried and blackened blood; the thick stitches glowing softly as they’d likewise been reinforced with magic to keep the wound close and the mending bone locked in place. He had clearly taken a thick blade or axe strike to the face; I had no idea how he was bearing up so stoically under what had to be a very painful injury. Regardless of the answer, I couldn’t help but stare at the pair, feeling both revulsion and pity. Especially for the winged pony, who had lost half his vision. Such a wound would be crippling to a thestral no less than a pegasus, for how could he now fly or maneuver properly without depth perception? “Is there a purpose to this display?” Councilor Corvis asked, his voice far more wan than before. “Are you now trying to shame us into fighting your war for you?” Instead of answering him directly, Captain Typhoon simply introduced his severely wounded subordinates. “These Guardsponies are Spear Sergeant Steelheart and Master Sergeant Stormrunner—two of my finest warriors. They were assigned to Outpost Epsilon on the far north of the frontier. ‘Twas considered a safe backwater and not under any real threat. The lie of that statement is now before you,” he noted. “The garrison there fought off the better part of an entire Imperial legion for a full day, repulsing attack after attack until they could resist no more. Indeed, these two would not be standing here now were it not for the Royal Navy.” He then nodded to the formally dressed pegasus stallion, who stepped forward into the moonbeam that illuminated the center of the chamber through the large ceiling skylight. I only then noticed he appeared to have a bad wing and was incapable of flight. Had he been wounded too? “This is Commander Tailwind of the EAS Loyalty—flagship of the former service of Princess Luna. If you truly believe that My Princess has no love for her sister, then why did she retain not just her Navy, but its colors and traditions?” he asked rhetorically as Tailwind moved up beside him. For the first time, the lower-ranked pegasus spoke in Romearean. “Naval General Order Number One: Always act in a manner that upholds and honors the Lunar Crown,” he recited reverently, causing the council to fall silent. Every one of Luna’s general orders were taught to us from birth, and word for word. “Let all present know that even to this day, and even without being crewed by the Nightborne soldiers that once roamed the corridors of its airships, the Royal Navy remains steeped in the rich history and traditions of Luna. And in these traditions, we acted without orders to rescue the garrison in an action I believe Luna herself would have approved.” Far from mollified, the General took immediate offense. “You dare speak her name without her title?” Starry Skies snarled. “Methinks I should slay you on the spot for befouling her name and service!” The pegasus took equal offense in turn, deploying his good wingblade and wielding it like a shield. “And listening to you now, methinks I should slay you for your craven cowardice and refusal to act! Naval General Order Number Twelve: those in the Lunar service who shirk their duty in the face of danger to their Navy and nation shall be put to death!” he recited, stepping forward and making clear he was more than willing to duel. Despite the threat, the General turned to Typhoon and smirked unpleasantly. “Then mayhap that rule should be applied to you, Captain. Or do you sit behind a desk whilst letting your lesser soldiers fight your battles for you?” His words elicited an angry glare from not just Typhoon, but the two Guardsponies as well; even Total Recall gave him a shocked look. Burned and Bloodied Europa Universalis IV - Original Soundtrack/OST - The Stage is Set “Silence!” ‘Twas not Typhoon that spoke, but Viceroy Chardonnay, raising his voice for one of the few times since I had known him. “You are out of line, General. ‘Tis you who would befoul this chamber by assaulting our guests beneath our regent’s moon,” he reminded him, causing the General to take a single step back whilst still glaring in smoldering challenge at Tailwind. “Thank you, Viceroy. But insultingly insensitive and ignorant though he is, methinks he is owed an answer. So…” The Captain reached up to remove his sash and unbutton his formal uniform. He asked his aide to magically remove it, which she did, to reveal that the entire left side of his chest and upper belly were badly burned, with bare and blackened skin evident in the center of the wound where his fur had been completely seared off and had only barely begun to heal. “Did I mention the dragon siege of Canterlot, General?” Typhoon asked icily as we stared at him in horror—how was he even standing? “‘Tis why Princess Celestia cannot assist us, for to leave the city would be to drop her shield and lose the lives of everypony within! “I was forced to fly a gauntlet of full-grown drakes and drakonas to escape the Capital, providing distraction whilst Total Recall teleported in stages away! As you can see, even for all my power of wind, I did not emerge unscathed.” “So, she refuses to sacrifice a single city to aid her armies?” The General managed a weak sneer as the Captain redressed with the aid of Total Recall. She cast a fresh balm spell on him, eliciting an exhale of relieved pain—the first sign of vulnerability he had shown. “Methinks Princess Luna would never have been so weak.” His sneer was met with one from Typhoon as he refastened his tunic and re-tied his sash. “So tell me, General Starry Skies—Is that truly all you take from this tale?” Methinks Typhoon was nearly out of patience, interposing himself between Starry Skies and an equally angry Tailwind. “Behind me stand no less than three stalwart stallions, who risked their lives in Equestria’s defense. Who swore oaths and upheld them. Who acted in the finest traditions of both the Solar and Lunar services… working together to serve Equestria as the shield and sword they were always intended to be!” he shouted down the fresh explosion of protests. “Working together, they won a great victory! Working together, they inflicted grievous losses on the gryphons! This alliance of day and night is what saved the garrison and what may yet save both nations! This is what we once were! This is what we must be again! We must unite as Sun and Moon under the same banner to end the invasion and destroy the Gryphon Empire!” “We are not invaded!” I couldn’t tell who shouted that over the growing cacophony, so I simply marked it on my transcript as ‘unknown stallion’. “But you will be!” Typhoon shouted back, and this time I couldn’t hear the first part of the argument that erupted between the Captain and General until the noise died down. “... be a foal, General! You are correct that we know not how many legions they have yet to commit to this fight, but ‘twould seem likely they could double their available forces given they were forced to launch seven weeks too soon! What this means is that thousands of additional gryphon soldiers will arrive in theater weekly, and ‘tis folly to think that none will be directed against you!” “You don’t know that! Nor do you—or they—know how we could counter them!” Starry Skies boasted, though the slightly shrill note in his voice told me his confidence was shaken, for which I was glad. “Methinks you deliberately exaggerate the threat! For if you could fight them successfully even heavily outnumbered, then ‘tis certain that we can!” “Then methinks you not only insult the soldiers standing before you, but you take all the wrong conclusions from that action!” Typhoon responded heatedly, and for the first time, I saw angry expressions on the faces of the two Celestial Guardsponies, who to this point had stood impassive. “‘Tis a story of gryphon resourcefulness and determination as much as the heroic defense of an elite unit! You know not how they can fight! They will find your weaknesses and exploit them! You have not the numbers or equipment to counter them should they turn their full attention on you! And they will turn their attention on you, as ‘tis certain they cannot ignore you! For how could they leave such a large force of ponies that could potentially strike into their rear as you offer?” he asked mildly. “We are not ponies!” Minister Shiraz said haughtily, taking off into a hover, as had at least half the Councilbats in their anger. “And do you truly think the gryphons will see things that way?” Tailwind rounded on her. “All they will see are your equine forms, not your wings or your eyes! The snarl of Shiraz instantly turned into a sneer. “Then perchance we should side with them! Perchance we should simply offer them Cloudsdale and the Loyalty! The gryphons are said to be an honorable race who keep their word, so surely, they would reward us as richly as you claim Celestia would!” “Enough!” After what seemed to be a quick jab of a hoof to his own throat, Typhoon’s voice boomed with uncanny force through the chamber along with another irresistible blast of wind, this one strong enough to knock several Councilbats out of the air or even out of their chairs. “Honorable, you say? Methinks not!” the Captain stated as methinks for the first time, the platoon of soldiers present in the Hall were glancing at each other nervously; ‘twas no doubt in my mind that they were wondering if ‘twas within their power to take down even a wounded Typhoon. “You know of the offer the gryphons have made to you. What you may not know is that the offer was not exclusive—that the Highborne have been offered the exact same terms as you—independence and control of all Thestralslovakia!” “What?” “Impossible!” “You lie!” “And just what could those Highborne heathens even offer them?” I did not even try to sort out who said what. “Then see for yourselves.” At yet another aside to his aide, who methinks looked very unnerved at being in the center of an increasingly angry chamber, a fresh sheath of communications intercepts were floated to us. I was not owed one, but she gave me one anyway; I scanned it quickly between scribbles and saw ‘twas a very flattering letter offering alliance and autonomy, addressed to the High Priestess of the Highborne herself! “We intercepted this message before it could be delivered. They were attempting to smuggle it in at a western trading post using yet another mind-controlled agent. As you can see, the gryphons are being duplicitous. If they cannot ally with you, they will do so with the Highborne. And how can you claim them to be honorable then?” he demanded to know. “For if both sides were to accept this identical offer, then one would have to be betrayed!” He spelled it out, then turned his attention back on the General. “And lest you think this is some lie or forgery of the EIS, be assured ‘tis not. “For put yourself in their wings, General Starry Skies: If you were the Imperial commander and lacked the immediate forces to directly subdue Thestralslovakia, what would be the cheapest and most effective way to remove the threat of the Nightborne to the flank of your advance, knowing that there is a second thestral faction that hates you, sitting squarely in your rear?” he asked rhetorically. “Methinks you hold the answer in your wings.” His logic rang true as a series of angry hisses—for the first time, not directed at the Captain—were heard. “How dare they…” Starry Skies was shaking with rage as he poured over the letter, then tore it in two with his wingtalons. “Those blasphemous bats will rule Thestralslovakia over our dead bodies!” Double Dealing Europa Universalis IV - Original Soundtrack/OST - The End of an Era “Backed by the Empire, I’m sure they will be more than happy to oblige you,” the Captain noted dryly, then stepped past him to address the entire chamber. “Bats of the Lunar Council, I have said my piece. I have presented our terms. I have reminded you of your obligations. I have shown you what the gryphons plan, and I have made plain what will happen if you do not act. “Your marching orders are given. For the sake of not just Thestralslovakia but all Equestria, you must strike the gryphons immediately, or you will shortly not be able to strike at all!” he reminded us, and this time, no voices rose in protest. “I thank you for your well-thought words and sharing with us this intelligence, Captain Typhoon.” Viceroy Chardonnay finally spoke again, sounding uncharacteristically subdued. “I would ask now that you leave so that we may debate this matter in private.” “You have until dawn,” the Captain warned, then turned thoughtful. “Or perchance there is another way. I still see reluctance on many of your faces. So if any of you doubt my words or what is coming, then I invite all Councilbats and you, General Starry Skies, to visit the wounded city of Cloudsdale you have so graciously and generously sheltered.” “To what end?” The General asked suspiciously, though his voice was far more wan. The Captain gazed upon him coolly. “To see for yourselves the destruction the gryphons wrought, and what would be visited upon Thestralslovakia in turn. To meet the soldiers and civilians who so gallantly defended the sky city, and behold the crushing casualties they suffered. To tour the EAS Loyalty and realize that the Royal Navy has not forgotten Princess Luna any more than you,” he offered placatingly. “This offer remains open only until I depart at dawn. If I do not return, or return without an agreement or at least your presence, ‘twill be assumed that Thestralslovakia is now Equestria’s enemy. If you will not aid us in our hour of need after three hundred years of supplying your water and faithfully leaving you to your own affairs, then we will abide your presence no longer. “And be assured, that either by the wings of the invading gryphons or the vengeance of a victorious Equestria afterwards, that you will not be keeping your lands.” As I look back on this long-ago night now, I am amazed by two things: First, that my cramping wingclaws, hoof and muzzle were able to keep up with all this talk using the shorthoof script that I had been taught in order to rapidly transcribe council meetings for the archives, quickly shifting between them as one appendage got tired. And second, that Captain Typhoon commanded the situation and cowed the hostile Council he faced so effectively. ‘Tis not worth discussing the hourlong debate that followed, for methinks everything worth saying had already been said by the Captain and General in their heated exchanges. So may it suffice to note for now that, either to buy time or avoid a decision for just a little longer, ‘twas the decision of the Council not to go to war, but to take the Captain up on his offer and embark on a ‘fact-finding’ mission to Cloudsdale. Mayhap some Councilbats thought the Captain was exaggerating and that any damage the city suffered was minor. Mayhap they thought that whatever show the ponies put on for us there could be easily seen through. Perchance others sought political leverage by openly siding with Equestria whilst there, in hopes of finding asylum in the pony nation later if the worst should happen and Thestralslovakia fell. But fate or mayhap Harmony itself had other designs, as the best-laid plans of Captains and Councilbats would come to fruition in a most unexpected manner. I doubt that anycreature present that day would foresee the amazing means by which the visit would affect them all, via a stunning display of musical talent that seemed to tap Harmony itself. Whatever its origin, Thestralslovakia would reach its decision before another day passed. And ‘twould be one, methinks, that would echo down not just through the course of the conflict, but through the ages of this nation and world to come. A decision that would seal the fate of two nations, and set one particular bat-pony—me—on his own collision course with destiny. —Europa Universalis IVth Viceroy, Head of Lunar Council Hollow Shades Thestralslovakia Thank you for this very illuminating and eye-opening description of these events, Viceroy. I had seen the transcript produced by Captain Typhoon’s aide, but methinks ‘twas very dry reading compared to this! Ponies sometimes ask me—what was Captain Typhoon truly like? In a word? Commanding. He was the instant master of any situation he found himself in, and his experience navigating the intrigue of the Canterlot Court served him in good stead during diplomatic affairs like this one. He was not afraid to tell it like it was, as he demonstrated to me by lecturing me over the relative worth of Gavian and Thunderbolt to the war effort, and was equally able to put ‘obtuse and arrogant’ ponies in their place with either the sharpness of his wit or the power of his wind. There are few ponies—or gryphons—I would cede supremacy to in terms of fighting ability or tactical skill. But the Captain is one of them. He was in many ways the best of us, and yet, he could not stay with us. For the Princess would shortly send him away again on a mission only he could fulfill, as she sought new allies to fight and defeat the dragon clan besieging Canterlot. But that story is for later, and ‘tis time for one methinks both Fell Flight and myself have been avoiding. But we will put it to paper before she leaves for Nova Ocelota, and then share a jug of rum in remembrance of our own mutual idiocy. —Captain Firefly Bolt Knight Captain Emeritus. Military History and Tactics Instructor Equestrian Officer Academy Canterlot