//------------------------------// // Operation 8: Preparations and Politics // Story: Sunset of Battle // by Tundara //------------------------------// Sunset Shimmer; Sister of Battle By Tundara Operation 8 Preparations for ‘Summer Camp’ began immediately, before Sunset was even in surgery for her maimed ears. While the other girls began plotting, planning, or rushing to the chapels to offer their most desperately sincere prayers for the Emperor’s protection, Sunset drifted in and out of consciousness in a haze of searing pain that lanced straight into her brain. Had she been aware of the number of nerves her ears possessed she’d have taken another few seconds before committing her actions.  As it was, she was given a mild sedative to ‘take the edge off’ the pain, and then surrounded by Sister Elizabeth and her medicea servitors. They cut and snipped without regard for Sunset’s throttled groans. Sister Elizabeth spoke the Litany of Healing as she worked, humming a few strands on occasion. With precise expertise she cleaned up the jagged wounds.  From an adjacent chamber a servitor wheeled in a partially rusted device. Tubes of some nasty green liquid sloshed in the back of a rounded shell. On the front were a series of mechanical arms ending in knives, scissors, and syringes, much like Sister Elizabeth’s medicea gauntlet. It reminded Sunset of a sea turtle that had been hollowed out and filled with the arms of metal crabs.  “What is that, Sister Elizabeth?” Sunset chanced asking, partly out of curiosity, and partly out of a need to be distracted from whatever was going to happen next.  “A simple surgical bio-printer,” was all the explanation she got.  Moving to a control altar set into the side of the device, Sister Elizabeth said, “Now, lie very still, and give praise to the Emperor. He will give you the strength to see this through.” Without further instructions, Sister Elizabeth began a new litany, this one to soothe the device’s machine spirits, and activated a hololithic display far more advanced than the simple flickering screens of the cogitators Sunset had seen so far. It displayed a floating, three dimensional image of Sunset, with an angry red glow around the place where her ears had been. A brassy hum came from the bio-printer. In a rapid, halting motion that was also somehow fluid, and so totally inhuman, it began to work.   Sunset tried very hard to avoid screaming. She’d done it rather frequently already that day. She tried. She failed. Two hours later, pale, shaking, and covered in cold sweat, she was wheeled into the recovery chambers, and a half hour after that, discharged.  “Now, I know it will be difficult, but do not pick at them,” Sister Elizabeth smiled sweetly. “You don’t want to keep me for observation, or anything?” Sunset arched a brow in mock surprise, but she hurried to leave. There was so much she had to do, and so little time. When Sister Elizabeth asked if Sunset wanted to spend more time with her, she quickly shook her head as she gathered her soiled uniform and rushed back to her dorm.  Classes had ended for the day and the hallway was filled with progena talking in hushed tones as they went to their extra curricular activities. The Chapel of Iron was the favoured destination, with nearly as many heading for the Chapel of Gold, so they could hone their bodies or souls, respectively. Passing the Chapel of Iron closest to their dorm, Sunset caught sight of squadmates in the corner of her eye. Changing direction, Sunset entered the chapel.  Twilight was in the squat rack, weights resting on her shoulders, struggling to complete her set. Her face was red with effort, cheeks puffed out and eyes clamped tight. At her side Applejack offered a torrent of encouragement. With a near primal growl, Twilight finished the set, racked the bar, and half collapsed forward with hands on shaking knees.  “See, I can do it,” she proudly gasped.  Sunset arched a sceptical brow, more so when she noticed the weights on the bar set to only forty pounds. Nearby, Fluttershy was on a bench doing presses under Rainbow’s sharp encouragement. Giving Rainbow a nod that was returned, Sunset turned and went back to her room. While everyone else was praying in the Chapel of Iron, Sunset would have time alone.  She grinned at the surprised glances she received from the progena she passed. Their eyes lingered on her new ears, and the older girls who didn’t know her didn’t scowl in her presence. They barely acknowledged her at all now, which was what they did for all their juniors.  Being ignored rankled part of Sunset. It was only marginally better than their outright disdainful hatred. At least she could now make them recognise her for her inherent talents, rather than a quirk of a body forced on her by some Warp entities.  They’d all know and recognise her soon enough. If she still had her magic it would be easy.  At the thought, an icy tremor slithered up her spine.  For months she’d managed to keep herself from facing that particular nugget of her new reality. It’d been easy with the horrors of the schola, the constant danger, the threat of her would-be murderer still out there, and the constant training, drilling, prayers, and lessons.  Just the simple, idle thought was enough to throw open the door to the place where she’d shunted all the worries about her missing magic.  For a few seconds her skin went clammy, and she had to slap her cheeks to prevent a rising surge of sudden panic. Well, she had time and incentive to face that problem now.   Back in her room she sat down on the floor, crossed her legs, and tried to meditate.  With the chains of fear about her missing magic back into her head she could no longer just ignore that aspect of herself.  It was a gamble attempting to unlock or see if she still had magic. She didn’t even know if she’d ever be able to use magic again just due to the stigma associated with psychers. And if she couldn’t sense her latent magic. If it truly had been taken from her… That idea frightened even more than the bite of Drill Abbess Maria’s whip. Still, her chances of surviving Steinsanne were astronomically higher if she held such an ace up her sleeve.  Fingertips pressed together to form a bridge, head leaning forward, Sunset centred herself as Celestia had taught her and turned her attention inward. She found nothing. An impatient jab of ice slid into her belly and up under her ribs.  Furrowing her brows she delved deeper. And deeper. Her heart quickened, her already unusually high alien heart rate turning into a steady, singular droning thrum in her chest. The tips of her fingers went a mulberry colour from being pressed together so hard. Frustration built. Why wasn’t her magic answering her call?! It had to be there, hiding away, like a kicked dog in its kennel. She couldn’t give into the fear that it was gone. That it had run away or been stolen by the monstrosity in the Warp.  She had to have hope. She had to have faith. It was there.  It had to be! Deep, deep inside her a flicker of something seemed to react to her desperation. It was like catching the movement in a shadow from the corner of her eye. For a brief instant relief began to wash over her.  And then there was a knock on the door. Her concentration broke, and whatever it was she may have sensed vanished.  Sunset sat on her bed stunned, and angry. She’d been so close! Her magic had been there, she was certain. Right? It hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. Or had it? Clawing at her hair she let out a hiss. “What?!” She barked at the door.  A slip of paper was thrust underneath the door. Narrowing her eyes, Sunset got to her feet and snatched the offending paper up. On it in a hasty script was, ‘Squad leader meeting. South fields. After vespers.’ Frowning, Sunset flipped the paper over and then back.  A trap. It had to be a trap. Crunching the paper up, she tossed it into the waste bin next to the single desk her squad shared. She was all set to put the note out of her head, except, a nagging doubt prodded the back of her skull. What if the note was genuine. She had to go if the other squad leaders of their class were getting together to strategize. Getting left out of such a meeting would be bad. Not just for her future prospects, but for surviving camp. Sunset chewed on her lower lip as she turned over and over her options.  The possibility of it being a ploy of her would-be assassin was weighed against it being an honest message. Though, why hadn’t whoever sent it just knocked on the door? How could they have been sure that she’d even get a note surreptitiously slipped beneath a door? Though, the same logic applied to if it was all a trap. Which meant that whoever had sent the note didn’t necessarily want her to go to the meeting.  As she thought, Sunset dropped her hand towards her knife, and found it missing. Her blood went cold and uselessly her fingers groped at the empty spot.  Of course. It hadn’t been returned by either Drill Abbess Maria or Sister Elizabeth.     After thoroughly chastising herself for leaving herself vulnerable, Sunset headed out. She couldn’t just replace her knife. Technically, she shouldn’t have been carrying it at all, arms having to be turned over to the quartermaster’s servitors after exercises. Although, nothing outright explicitly stated they weren’t permitted to carry weapons either. Sunset unconsciously rubbed her shoulder where she’d been whipped. It was a grey area in the normally absolute rules that Sunset would rather avoid testing, especially since Drill Abbess Maria had confiscated her first knife.  Gathering her squad from the bathhouse, which they’d gone to after their prayers in the chapel of iron, Sunset had a quick dinner and then went for vespers. All the while she ate and prayed she turned over in her head what to do. Whether it were a trap or a genuine meeting, and if she should go or not.  In the end she decided that it was better to risk it being a trap than ignore a meeting and put her squad and herself in an untenable position among their class.  Tapping Applejack on the shoulder, she brought the tall girl along as support. Just in case. Shrugging, Applejack didn’t protest and they made their way to the south fields. Sunset’s stomach bubbled with nervous tension. Her hands reflexively kept balling into fists. She was a cat perched between pouncing and running.  It was only when she heard voices up ahead that she began to relax, if only a little. Voices meant it wasn’t a trap. Probably.  Around a bend that divided the south fields from the obstacle course Sunset found the source of the voices. In a tight cluster were the other squad leaders already in a heated debate.  “Clearly, we have to work together, Spitfire darling, the issue is the division of labour and duties. What responsibilities is each squad given.” Rarity gave the other squad leaders a piercing look, as if daring them to refute such an obvious statement.  “That’s the whole point of this gathering I thought,” Fleur de Lis was leaning against a tree, a finger twirling a lock of pink hair, and looking very bored. A few of the other squad leaders nodded and muttered agreements. “So, let’s just get on with it.  Hands on her hips, Rarity rounded on Fleur, and in doing so noticed Sunset taking a position a little on the edge of the gathering. Pressing her lips into a line like she’d just sucked on a lime, Rarity quickly averted her eyes.  “Well, yes, of course. I think—” “You’re not the class leader, Rarity,” Spitfire didn’t growl or puff herself up, but her threat was clear in every word.  “Because you’ve done an amazing job of it,” Rarity countered with a disdainful flip of her hair. “We were led into a trap on the expedition. You assured the rest of us that you had the situation under control. Well, does a Death World sound like things are ‘under control’? We should have known about it months ago and started to prepare. Your leadership has been woefully lacking, I am afraid to say.”   A chorus of agreements rippled around the circle.  Stepping up to Rarity, Spitfire looked like she was being made to chew nails. Her jawline tensed, and for a moment Sunset suspected that the two were going to fight. Instead, Spitfire reached up and tore off the little aquila pin that marked her as the class Superior. Rubbing the metal with her thumb, Spitfire flicked it at Rarity.  “Then you get to have the weight on your shoulders. I never wanted the role to begin with. I’ve been too focused on just me and my squad, making us the best squad, and not making this the best class. Take it, since you want it so much. You’ll probably do better with it than I have. But, I’ll want it back eventually. But when I choose it, not when it is handed to me.” At first stunned at the lack of resistance, Rarity started to beam as she attached the pin to her lapel.  Forming the aquila over her chest, Rarity made a presentation of bowing to Spitfire. “I apologise for my harsh words, darling. I’m just worried about this camp and I took it out on you. It is unbefitting conduct towards a sister. I won't let you, our sisters, or the Drill Abbess down.”  More than a few of the girls nodded and the tension dissolved a little. Sunset had to admit it was a nice, little performance. Spitfire had every bit the air of being above politics, while also retaining a high position of authority within the class. Rarity had given voice to all their inner turmoil, and claimed the top position. Sunset wondered how much had been theatre, and how much genuine feeling. “Now then, onto the main business at hand; surviving Steinsanne. Everyone’s suggestions are welcome. Don’t be shy.”  For a few minutes ideas were tossed into the ring, suggestions made, all of which sounded very similar to the strategy meeting Sunset and her squad had in their room the day before. Things like applying themselves with more fervour to their training, getting up earlier to do physical exercises, more time in the chapel of iron, and so on.  Sunset listened quietly. She didn’t have much to add, and it was a golden opportunity to size up where the other squad leaders stood. Her opinion of them was not high. Everyone had been going through the schola as if in a daze. She could count on one hand the number of squad leaders that seemed to have their acts together.  “Does anyone know anything specific about Steinsanne?” Rarity eventually asked after the number of generic ideas began to peter out. “More than ‘it is a Deathworld’? We need to know what we are being sent into.” “I believe Sunset knows the most,” Fleur said when no one else spoke up right away. “It was her squad that discovered this camp. Tell the rest of us what you learned, please.” Sunset shifted to start talking, but Lyra spoke up first. “Are you really considering listening to her?”  Fleur shrugged. “Of course. We all have a say, do we not? And maybe she discovered more about this planet than she already shared.” Lyra threw up her hands. “Obviously she found out more than she told us. Do any of us even know her? Everyone else had friends, or at least acquaintances, when the Sororitas rescued and took us in. Like most, I am from Ponyville, and there are a number from Canterlot and Cloudsdale, but she has no one to vouch for her.”  “Drill Abbess Maria herself saved Sunset,” Fleur pointed out, but there wasn’t a whole lot of conviction in her voice.  Clearing her throat, Rarity interjected. “Which is almost certainly why she was made our Drill Abbess. I won’t claim to have an inkling of what the higher-ups in the order are thinking, but I would have wanted someone familiar with Sunset to watch her for any signs of taint. Now, Sunset’s trustworthiness is not the issue today.”   The others grumbled a little, but gave nods of agreement. It wasn’t that any of them trusted Sunset, just that there were higher priorities.  “So, Sunset darling, was there anything else you learned that you have withheld?” Rarity’s tone was overly saccharine. It practically screamed, ‘I dare you to lie to me.’ Sunset was tempted, her hackles rising at the treatment she’d received so far. She bit down a more acidic response, and instead laid out plainly what she’d already discovered. It wasn’t as if the others wouldn’t find the same information when they inevitably, and hopefully, looked in the library. Not everyone was so keen on letting Sunset speak. Junebug tossed up her hands with a vehement cry. “I can’t believe you trust her now! Everyone knows she only ever thinks about herself.” “Now, see here,” Applejack stepped forward. “I ain’t going to claim Sunset’s leadership has been perfect, but she ain’t that bad either. None of us were ready for this. None of us.” Sunset was genuinely surprised at Applejack speaking in her defence. It was oddly gratifying, but also problematic. She couldn’t be seen hiding behind a subordinate. Placing a hand on Applejack’s shoulder, Sunset gave her a firm shake of her head telling her to stop.      “Yeah, Junebug, I’m a little more isolated than everyone else. You all knew each other, and came from decent homes, all things considered. Equis, as I understand it, was a fairly nice planet by most standards. You had to work hard, but it wasn’t like you grew up in some hive world slum. However, all I knew of Equis was a single small room, a laboratory, and then running from a daemon when everything went to shit. If I hadn’t stumbled on Sister Superior Helen and been directed to the remnants of her squad, I would be dead.”   Sunset left the half-truths there, lest she dig herself a hole of lies that could be collapsed on top of her. The mysterious nature of her origins was the only saving factor, and that no one else came from the palace. If any did, she was doomed. It wouldn’t take long for them to uncover the lies of her origins. “And then there is the small matter that someone tried to kill me on the Righteous Indignation.” “That was one of the ship’s crew, I thought,” Lyra quickly said, eyes darting between Sunset and Rarity. “That’s what we heard, anyways.” “Yeah, sure,” Sunset sneered, rounding on Lyra. “Because we interacted with the crew so much. Did any of you ever even see a crewmember the entire time we were on that ship? We saw plenty of Sisters, but other than when we landed, I never saw any of the actual crew. How would one know who I was, plan an attack, and carry it out?”  There were sour looks, but also nods of agreement.  “It was strange,” Fleur conceded. “But, why would the Drill Abbess lie to us?” “Because she thinks one of us tried to kill her,” Spitfire barked. “And that makes sense. If a member of the order had tried, she’d be dead. They wouldn’t have messed up and left her alive. A crewmember was always just a patsy. That leaves someone in our class.” “Which is why she’s so distant,” Rarity concluded, chewing on the edge of her thumbnail. “Sadly, I don’t see a way to resolve that without finding the culprit.” Sunset rolled her eyes. “And I suppose none of you know anything?” When no one spoke up, she continued, “Of course not.”      “We need to find out who tried to kill you,” Rarity said, her tone conciliatory. “Whoever she is went against the wishes of the Order and took matters into her own hands. She didn’t trust the Drill Abbess. And I suspect that the Drill Abbess already knows the identity of the perpetrator and finding out for ourselves is another of her ‘tests’. All of us will look into our squads and see if we can ferret out this traitor. In the meantime, let’s see if you can build a little trust with the rest of us. What else did you learn about Steinsanne?”             Sunset was surprised at how genuine Rarity sounded. And there was meret in what she said about Drill Abbess Maria and the would-be murderer.  “A little bit about the ecology and fauna,” Sunset admitted, and then laid out what she’d learned. Admittedly, it wasn’t a whole lot that was substantive.  It was enough to make the other girls grow pale.  “And they send their children there?” Junebug snarled as Sunset concluded her short lecture.  “Not all. Probably only those with enough social standing,” Fleur amended, her chin bent forward with her eyes closed as she thought.  “Well, that doesn’t matter to us, darlings. Either way we are being sent. Doesn’t matter who is going with us.” Rarity planted her hands on her hips. She thought for a moment, then said, “Here is what we are going to do. Fleur, Lyra, and Cheerilee; you start digging into the mystery of who attacked Sunset. The others trust you the most. Junebug and Indigo; we’re going to need supplies. Figure out what we can take with us to this camp. We’ll need weapons, armour, rations, and shelter. Odds are we wont be allowed to bring much, but we need to know and plan accordingly. Sunset, since you already started researching the planet, you’ll be with me in the library. Everyone else, I want you to pair up with squads that have strengths that make up for your deficiencies. Spitfire, everyone knows your squad is the best at exercises, but your academics are a little low, while Kiwi’s squad gets good grades, but struggles in the exercises. Help each other.” With her orders given, Rarity looked around to see if there was any dissension or other suggestions.  When there was none, Rarity dismissed the meeting after adding, “If anyone has any questions, problems, or thinks of anything that can help us survive; come to me immediately.”  Sunset didn’t feel much warmth or acceptance from the other squad leaders, but the air of hostility had lessened marginally. There were a few dirty looks sent her way, and she wondered just how effective the search for her attacker would be, but it was a start, at least. It also gave Sunset a place to work from if she was going to someday be the class leader. A faint smile touched her lips at the idea of the person everyone else seemed to disdain being their leader.