//------------------------------// // 41. Rolling Points // Story: Time to Shine // by Easysnuggler //------------------------------// But now magic has returned. Are the overlords dead, do the ponies know somehow?” —Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic” 41. Rolling Points The minotaur general Chop-Chop of Istanbull was angry. He was usually angry. Or at least annoyed. Yelling at his Ground Pounder subordinates was how he usually worked out his anger, but his immediate subordinates were all off running about preparing for this ‘race’ to Canterlot. Yelling at the second-string staff just wasn’t as liberating. There had been distressing word that Perfect Storm had gone down with his ship, and his nephew. In Chop Chip’s opinion the boy was no loss, Close Shave’s hard work and bad luck would have made him a bad king in Chop-Chop’s view, but not as bad as that idiot Foreman the Skyforce had picked as their candidate. He was a hopeless romantic, and now that ‘magic’ had returned he was going on about reconstituting Equestria. As if that would ever happen. Dreamers were about as bad a king as one could imagine. Twilight Sparkle had been a dreamer, and it had nearly destroyed the world, and more worlds besides by all the ancient accounts… Chop-Chop was an old campaigner. He had flanked the Saddle Arabians and defeated their threatening armies after capturing a critical oasis in a series of night marches that had made him famous. His troops were experienced, highly trained and well-motivated. He thought his chances of returning from Canterlot before the navy could mount another expedition were excellent. Unless the Skyforce pulled off a miracle, he could probably count them out. He was aiming for a campaign of 60 days with a small force that he would supplement as he went. That was partially boasting of course. It would likely take longer, but it would be an amazing accomplishment regardless. Iron Horse claimed she had been there. But it had taken her almost 6 months to return from there. Years to get there the long way if she was to be believed. Chop-Chop believed her. She was touched, crazy and determined, but she had that special kind of madness that made one able to do amazing things. She had no fear. Chop-Chop had had lieutenants like that. He had a few now. That hot head Risk Taker was one. He knew from experience that leaders like that either went on to become legends or they met a bad end and took others with them. He had to keep an eye on them. He’d paired Taker with Marshal, a much calmer lieutenant, whom he’d hope would rub off on the young headstrong bull, but rather the opposite appeared to be happening. Marshal was becoming more decisive, and that was a good thing. But it was his cautious nature that had caused him to select him for this mission. Still… they worked well together. He should put them under someone who would keep them in line. Maybe that ass-hat Captain Syrup. He was such a prick. With any luck the bad behavior would cancel out or one or the other would quit. Maybe both. He’d have Payne investigate Syrup. Maybe the major could find some reason to leave Syrup behind. Syrup rubbed Chop-Chop the wrong way. He was a boot licking fop who treated his subordinates like garbage. He had a few trusted noncoms who did all the real work, but the constant requests for transfer from the various units he’d led reflected badly on the captain. He wouldn’t have taken him, but he was politically connected and Baron Windbag, the old aristocrat had made it clear that either he went, or Chop-Chop would find life ‘difficult’. Sometimes it wasn’t worth fighting every battle. Still taking Syrup on was a risk. Chop-Chop of course realized there were risks in any military operation. But you tried to minimize them when you could. One too many risks had sent perfect Storm to a watery grave. There were risks, but there was also treachery and murder, especially when it came to politics and the succession. He had his current position because he’d cleaned up after the steers had killed Black Ball and had exercised restraint and kept the bloodshed and settling of scores to a minimum. He’d also had a hand in defending and picking Iron Hoof as king in the chaos of Windbag’s little coup-within-a-civil-war. He was quite sure that Windbag had no idea of his role in that, blaming the haram steers instead, but the general preferred an orderly kingdom to the piratical mess the Bags would have had Istanbull degenerate into had they ended up on top at the end of the brief ‘social war’. Plus, he’d gotten revenge for his gelded brothers by thwarting Bags’ ambitions. So, a win all around. Still, the sinking of the Manatee stunk to high heaven. In Zebrenica it was generally recognized that it was a good idea to kill an admiral from time to time to encourage the others, but in Istanbull, Storm had been a fixture for decades. He had been talented, hardworking, and professional. He had believed in a healthy interservice rivalry between the army and the navy, but a professional one. They had both looked with humor at the nascent Skyforce. If accounts could be believed, a saboteur had murdered him and several hundred marines and sailors. Rather than relax, Chop-Chop had redoubled his efforts and the secrecy of his expedition. He alone knew his candidate’s name (he hadn’t picked one). He alone knew the route they would follow (through the zebra lands skirting the rim of the ocean). Nothing was written down besides immediate orders. It required complete operational security, and he would only reveal his plans to his second in command (Payne) the morning he departed. — A note had come this morning. It had no name and merely said “Please consider Badger Baiting as a candidate”, a gym locker key was included with the note. The locker in question was found to contain bearer bonds and notes worth three hundred thousand gold rings or more. The general had enjoyed lighting the cash on fire right there in the locker. His MPs had had to prevent the owners of the gym from interfering. When the fire was out, he simply walked back to his nearby office and shut the door. He had his bulls double the number of guards and told his friend Police Captain Forthright to make it clear to Badger “Puddin” Baiting that he was out of the running, had never been in the running and in fact whomever his politically connected friend was, he should consider immediate retirement. — Chop-Chop received a letter that evening. It had no signature but was written in an elegant hand on fine palace letterhead. A wax seal with a rampaging bull impressed on it had been the only signature. It made for disturbing reading. After reading it he burned it, reflecting that many things were being burned these days. Apparently, the king had been busy with his investigations. He was a smart bull. A bit too self-indulgent, and not a military man certainly, but he was honest, forthright kind and calm. He was honorable, in a way almost none of those in the nobility were. It was a shame he had no heir. Chop-Chop had grown used to him being predictably boring. But he wasn’t boring anymore. If only the king had had this fire a dozen years ago, the kingdom would be very different. “Ah well….” He said to himself. Preparations for the departure of the Ground Pounders continued, News that the zebras had shut the borders caused the consultation of maps and some adjustments and restructuring. The cutting off the zebra lands added hundreds of canters to the trip. On the other hoof, it potentially eliminated a lot of hilly terrain, three rivers, a bay crossing and thousands of canters of forest, replacing it with what was hopefully merely an incredibly boring and monotonous environment west of the mountain range. What it added was a journey up the coast and upriver to High Lake in the heart of the Kirin territory and beyond. It seemed as if the recently departed Close Shave’s bad luck had transferred to new and more deserving owners. A week later, an acquaintance of Baron Wind Bag, a certain Count Blowhard retired his court position in favor of his young protege Viscount Hot Air but like the Count he too soon had an unfortunate accident involving stairs that left him in a wheelchair a week later. There were rumors of sudden financial difficulties. But by then Chop-Chop had departed.