The Princess and the Kaiser

by UnknownError


Part Fifty-Six

“Just to remind you, Princess,” Nightshade stammered, “none of us have been to the southeast.”

“Y-yeah,” Murky agreed behind his sister. Echo just nodded alongside her younger brother.

Flurry sighed and cast a heating spell on the siblings, not that it seemed to be needed. A chill wind blew from the ocean, swirling a few snowflakes around the large cloud the four were laying atop. The bat ponies were able to manipulate clouds like their pegasi cousins, but they rarely received cutie marks for weather control.

Nightshade’s mark was a bouquet of flowers; she stubbornly insisted they were poisonous flowers, but Flurry picked up enough from her siblings that she once loved gardening. Murky and Echo had similar marks of a cloudy, moonlit night sky. Stereotypical marks for bat ponies, but they had a knack for disappearing into the darkness.

Which is good for right now, Flurry thought. She raised her binoculars back up to her eyes with her hooves. Her eyes glowed with a night vision spell. The dockyards of Baltimare stretched out before her, completely intact with a few seized merchant ships waiting at piers. There were a few wandering ponies, too spread out to truly be called patrols, but her eyes swept the cranes on the docks.

Griffons with broken wings swung from ropes attached to the dockyard cranes. All of them were in some state of decomposition from the ocean air, and all of them wore the gray uniform of the Griffonian Reich. Grover’s forces landed virtually uncontested at Baltimare and rapidly pushed into the collapsing southeast. The ponies of Baltimare welcomed them with open hooves, in contrast to Manehattan, and the army made rapid progress into the jungles.

It was a trap. The moment the supply lines began to strain, Baltimare rose up and seized the ships in the ports, assassinated the garrison’s commander, and began stringing up the Reich soldiers beside the Changelings. The Ponies Republic of Baltimare was proclaimed shortly afterwards. The army forces found themselves trapped in a jungle and attacked from every angle, retreating into the Badlands and fortifying their positions. A few griffons simply flew back, but most remained trapped in the awful terrain, unwilling to abandon their equipment. The only positive outcome was the Changeling garrison, already on the brink of collapse and overstretched, was annihilated.

On the long flight to Baltimare, Flurry used a radio to listen in on any broadcasts. Surprisingly, Golden Delicious himself often gave radio updates. “Comrades,” he had broadcast earlier that day, “we continue to fight for our right to exist. To survive! We will not yield to the monarchist scum in the jungles, nor the birds beyond the sea! We have suffered too much for too long to ever kneel again! Long live Baltimare!”

The other announcers referred to him as ‘Comrade Delicious.’ Probably a dictator, Flurry guessed. She hoped he was a dictator, at the very least. I don't know how to negotiate with anarchists. Headbutting?

Flurry twisted around on the cloud and looked behind her in the open ocean. She didn’t see any Reich ships, but she knew they were out there. They could bombard Baltimare from the ocean and land in a naval assault. Grover doesn’t want the optics. She had to admit it was a smart move. No matter how insane the communists were, they were still ponies. It ruined the shaky image of liberators to start shelling them.

Then again…Flurry’s line of thought trailed off when she looked at the corpses swinging from ropes at the docks. Baltimare was intact; it was the hub of the Austral Protectorate. She could see the factories beyond the dockyards, sprawling into a city less developed than Manehattan, but still brickwork and glass. It was the most developed city in southeast Equestria.

“Everypony, huddle up. We’re going in,” Flurry decided. “I’ll cast a shield.”

“You good for that, Princess?” Murky asked.

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t,” Flurry replied shortly, standing up and extending her wings. She hovered off the cloud and waited for the siblings to group around her. Murky carried a radio; everypony else wore saddlebags full of provisions and canteens. After over a week, the saddlebags were looking distressingly light. Echo and Nightshade checked their submachine guns, then left them hanging by their straps.

Flurry formed a golden shield around the four of them as they flapped their wings in the sky. Murky landed at the bottom of the bubble shield and sat with a rifle braced against his shoulders. “Moth for brains,” Echo chided, “you can’t shoot through it.”

“They don’t know that,” Murky pointed out. Flurry flapped her wings in the center and slowly descended towards the docks. She didn’t hear an alarm ring; in fact, nopony seemingly noticed her approach. She dropped the shield for a moment and let the siblings land on a concrete dock below, then landed herself and reformed the shield.

Nightshade looked at the Reich merchant ship parked at the dock. The name and flag had been sloppily crossed out with streaks of red, but it hadn’t been renamed. It was before dawn, and the dockyard was deserted. There were some lights on in downtown Baltimare, but the surrounding neighborhoods were dark.

“I don’t like this, Princess,” Nightshade whickered. She gave a pointed look to one of the bodies swinging from the cranes. “Only one of them was shot. The others’ wings were bound.”

“They were alive,” Echo realized. Her leathery wings flapped jerkily.

“We’ve done the same,” Flurry replied noncommittally.

“Yeah,” Murky agreed, “not sure we can be freaked out. But I still am.”

Nightshade pointed at a sign around one griffon’s neck. “Read that for the Princess.”

Flurry squinted at the wooden sign. She had dropped her night vision spell and it was too dark. “What’s it say?”

“‘Thus to the stooges of Tyrants,’” Murky snorted. “Welcoming.”

“Let’s keep going.” Flurry shook her head and started trotting down the dock. She was wearing her purple uniform again, minus the hat. Her purple and blue hair had grown back enough to be considered the worst buzzcut in existence, but the pink patches on her muzzle had filled in sufficiently to not be noticeable at a distance.

Flurry reached the end of the dock, still looking around for anypony. She had spotted some disorganized, wandering patrols from the ocean, but nopony was in sight. “We’ll head downtown on hoof,” she said aloud. “I’m keeping the shield up.”

The bat ponies didn’t argue. They slung their weapons under a wing and moved with her.

Flurry walked down several factory rows, pausing to look into open cargo bays and doors. Most of the factories had been looted or ransacked, but a few looked perfectly functional. She still didn’t see anypony. Some of the distant factories had lights on, but Flurry didn’t want to deviate and pushed towards downtown. They passed through several apartment blocks, closer to tenements from Nova Griffonia than Equestrian housing.

Nightshade walked in front of her; she suddenly stopped and hissed into the darkness. The bat pony's ears pinned back and her golden eyes grew very wide. She readied her submachine gun and jammed the barrel against the edge of the shield.

“What?” Flurry asked and squinted. The street was still dark. She saw some movement in nearby apartment windows; figures peeking down and backing away. Price said the shield was too noticeable. Flurry raised her head up and stuck out her wings. “I am Princess Flurry Heart!” she shouted into the street. Her voice echoed against asphalt and brickwork.

Nopony replied. Nightshade continued staring down the street, breathing shallowly.

“What is it?” Flurry asked. “Nightshade, talk to me.”

The bat pony stepped forward to the edge of the shield, staring blankly ahead. “Don’t drop the shield,” she whispered. “Not for a moment. Murky, Echo, have your guns ready.” She didn’t stop staring forward. Flurry stepped forward and the shield moved with her.

Flurry Heart did not understand until she reached the first lamppost next to a tenement.

A bat pony mare dangled from it. She had been up there for a long time, and her wings hung limp and tattered; they had been broken before she was hanged. There was a sign around her neck labeling her a ‘Monarchist.’ The mare was naked, and Flurry could see old scars from whip lashes, suggesting she worked in the factories or the plantations.

There was another hanging from the next lamppost, then another beyond it. The siblings moved very slowly down the street, and Flurry didn’t hurry them. Their dark tails lashed in agitation and fear. Several sets of eyes peered through dirty windows, watching the golden shield move down the street. Flurry tried to make eye contact, but the eyes just darted away whenever she looked into a window. The tenements didn’t have any electricity, and it reminded her too much of the ghetto in Weter.

Flurry stopped in an intersection and closed her eyes. “Nightshade,” she asked. “Are there more on the other streets?” It was still too dark for her to see. Nightshade looked down a street and squinted. She nodded almost imperceptibly. Flurry gave her a hug, then continued and counted twenty-one bodies before she reached downtown.

Downtown Baltimare replaced bat ponies with changelings in Hegemony uniforms. Some of the bodies were old and stank badly. Flurry considered it an improvement, but her stomach still twisted with anger from the ghetto. Her shield already sparked and crackled with blue currents.

There were still no ponies in the street. No banners or flags had been hung up, not even old Equestrian Liberation Front flags. Manehattan had at least gathered to watch the Princess arrive, and a few waved goodbye when she left.

Occasionally, Flurry glimpsed muzzles peeking out of corners and alleyways, or shapes leaping from roof to roof, but nopony emerged to greet her. At this point, Flurry wasn’t sure if she wanted them to. The city was far more intact than Manehattan; the fighting progressed beyond it quickly, and the ELF never reached the southeast.

By the time the sun started to rise, Flurry had enough. “Put on your earmuffs,” she ordered brusquely and stomped a hoof into the asphalt. Flurry moved to a broken sidewalk next to a looted grocery store. Echo, Nightshade, and Murky clamped earmuffs over their sensitive ears and laid down with hooves over their heads.

I wish to speak to Comrade Delicious.” Flurry Heart yelled. She intentionally didn’t put her full volume into the Royal Voice for the sake of the siblings. “I am Flurry Heart, the Princess of Ponies.” The shield warbled with blue currents.

A bullet fired from a window and pinged off her shield. Flurry waited for more gunfire, but nopony took another shot. She narrowed her eyes. “One hour,” she said bluntly.

“What happens in an hour?” Murky yelled over his earmuffs.

Flurry looked down at him with an icy glare.

“Oh,” Murky realized. “Will we be safe in here if you do that?” He took off his earmuff and his fluffy ears wilted.

“Yes,” Flurry answered, “but stick close.”

Murky shuffled over. “Good enough for me.”

Flurry checked her watch every five minutes while the shield pulsed and crackled with energy. Her nose began to bleed as she waited. She held Bronzetail’s cloth up to it, noticing that it was embroidered with his initials. Flurry rolled her eyes.

“Princess,” Nightshade asked quietly. “Are you going to negotiate with them?”

“If they want to,” Flurry replied. “Doesn’t look like it.”

Nightshade chewed on a lip. “Some of the bat ponies were your age, Princess.”

Flurry closed her eyes and sighed. “I know. If I blow the shield here, I’m killing hundreds of thousands at the least. I’d prefer it not come to that.”

“Princess,” Nightshade nodded deferentially. Flurry checked her watch.

Time's up. She had waited longer than she claimed she would, and the sun peeked through a cloudy morning to the east. She waited another several minutes, dabbing at her nose. The shield crackled with energy.

“Movement,” Echo said quietly. “Side street to the right.”

Flurry turned to look. A dozen ponies were slowly walking forward with rifles at their flanks. They were all earth ponies in clashing outfits; only a few wore gray militia uniforms with red bands. They looked to be sailors or dockworkers with stolen griffon guns. Flurry could tell from the way the trigger guards had been snapped off and the long stock. All of the makeshift militia had a red band somewhere. One wore a bandana and another wrapped it around her short-cut mane and pulled it back.

The ponies trotted out of the side street and took positions along the opposite sidewalk. They were thin and lean, but nowhere near as bad as the north. She picked out scars from lashes on the naked militia members. The stallion with the bandana took cover behind an old overturned mailbox, bracing his rifle against it and aiming at Flurry. She stared back blankly from the other sidewalk. None of the ponies spoke to her. They all just glared hatefully with narrowed eyes and frowns.

“I’ve done this dance before,” Flurry said loudly. “It didn’t end well last time. I didn’t come here to fight.”

“You are not welcome here, Princess,” a stallion in a gray uniform replied. He was a golden earth pony with a full brown beard and severe green eyes. He had braced a rifle in a shadowed doorway. His mane was wild and unkempt, barely contained by a commissar's cap.

Flurry squinted at him, then waved a wing at Echo. The mare retrieved a small picture from her saddlebags and looked critically at it, holding it up to the edge of the shield. She nodded. “It’s him.”

“Comrade Delicious?” Flurry asked. She checked her watch. “You’re seventeen minutes overdue.”

“You’re lucky I came at all,” the stallion shouted back harshly.

“Not really,” Flurry shrugged her wings. “This city is very lucky, however.”

“You are not welcome here,” Golden Delicious repeated with a snarl. “Leave.”

“No,” Flurry answered. “I’m here to negotiate. The Reich needs the port.”

Golden laughed with a harsh guffaw. “Our port. You do the bidding of your bird masters?”

“We’re working together to save Equestria.”

Golden smirked. “As always, monarchists stick together.”

Flurry sighed. “I don’t have a problem with communism. I don’t care. A large chunk of my army is from the Aquileian Republic.”

His smirk returned to a frown. “Yes, ‘the Red Princess’ is quite a joke, isn’t it? We’re not communists, not that I expect you to understand that.”

“I don’t,” Flurry admitted. “I don’t care what you do as long as you’re not hurting anypony.” She looked down the road towards some of the corpses. “What did they do?”

“The bugs held us down for years,” Golden spat, “just like the Princesses. You never raised a hoof to help the south.”

“I was a foal,” Flurry replied, “and I don’t care about the Changelings. You know I wasn’t asking about them.”

“I thought the signs were clear,” Golden shrugged. He eyed the bat ponies. “Of course you brought more with you.”

The siblings hissed in unison.

“How many did you kill?” Flurry asked.

“I admit things got out of hoof,” Golden said with little regret, “but the bats in the jungle keep fighting us and slaughtering our militias. There’s consequences. They’ve never adapted well to cities.”

Echo snarled at him through the shield and raised her leathery wings.

Golden gestured to her as if she proved his point.

Flurry hugged Echo with a wing. “Why are you fighting with them?”

“Baltimare needs room to expand,” Golden shrugged. “The bats just see us as stuck-up invaders, same as the ‘lings. We need the jungle soil to grow crops for our communes.”

“I thought Syndicalism was an urban movement,” Flurry commented. “Why are you bothering with communes?”

Golden blinked. “Allowances have been made to be self-sufficient. We can’t afford infighting,” he managed after a pause.

“I don’t appreciate you hanging my ponies,” Flurry warned. “I don’t like infighting either.”

“Oh, are we all your ponies?” Golden asked. “No matter what? The bat ponies in the jungle worship the moon; they don’t even know who you are. They’re backwards. The only one they love is Luna.”

“They are my ponies.”

“They don’t want you,” Golden said slowly, “nor do we.”

“Why?” Flurry asked. Her shield crackled with blue arcs of electricity. She removed her cloth from her nose and narrowed her eyes at him. “I haven’t done anything to you.”

“You are everything wrong with Equestria and ponies,” Golden snorted. “You wave your wings and horn and expect us all to follow. We are done following alicorns to war. Starlight Glimmer sold out. We waited for the ELF to make it to Baltimare, and she threw everything at Canterlot.”

“Ponies are dying while you play games here.” Flurry looked around at Baltimare. It was a large city, nowhere near as large as Manehattan, but it was the most important city in the southeast. The city was nowhere near as damaged or war-torn as Manehattan, but the buildings seemed worse off; the years under the Austral Protectorate eroded the city.

“I can say the same to you,” Golden retorted.

“Stalliongrad had the sense to fight for everypony,” Flurry tried.

“And they lost everything,” Golden snorted.

Flurry took a deep breath. “And you are coming very close to doing the same.”

Golden set the rifle down and sneered at her. “The Reich can try to land. We’ll blow the dockyards; we have enough captured equipment to do it. Your nose is bleeding from keeping that shield up.”

“It’s bleeding from the power I’m putting into it,” Flurry answered.

The shield crackled and sparked. One of the militia ponies backed up with her tail tucked between her legs, leaving the rifle behind. “That won’t help,” Flurry commented to her. "You can't run far enough."

Golden stepped out from the doorway. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about you from captured sailors. Heard some more from the radio.”

“The worst ones are true,” Flurry replied. “I don’t want to kill you, but I need this port.”

“Sounds like you’re going to blow up the port,” Golden said blithely. Despite his words, he swallowed and consciously kept his ears from pinning back. “You’re in the middle of a packed city.”

“I’ve made that choice before,” Flurry answered. “I can make it again.”

“Typical,” Golden Delicious chuckled. “This is your idea of negotiation.”

"Your idea was to make me wander through your city," Flurry said.

"What did you want? A parade?"

Flurry pitched her voice up. "Hello, I'm Comrade Delicious and welcome to Baltimare," she said with false cheer. She immediately dropped back into a frown. "Maybe a hoofshake," she deadpanned. "I'm tired of standing on streets under a shield."

"Go ahead and drop the shield."

Flurry gave a long look at the armed militia around her shield and decided that some would probably try to shoot her out of pure spite. “I’m willing to recognize your autonomy within Equestria,” Flurry offered. “After the war is over, you can organize whatever little commune you want. I’ve been friendly to militias. I’ve redistributed wealth and housing.” She gestured with a booted hoof to her uniform. “This is basically the only nice outfit I own.”

“A worthless promise at horn point,” Golden scoffed. “You won’t surrender the southeast.”

“I never said I would,” Flurry countered. “You want Baltimare? Fine, have fun with it. Sit in your city while better ponies fight and die to save others. See how many friends you have when the fighting is done.”

Golden looked above her at some of the buildings. Flurry followed his hard green eyes. Many windows had been shattered and boarded up. A few ponies looked down, staring through the boards. “What guarantee do I have that you will keep your word?”

“None,” Flurry replied bluntly. “I’d be in a better mood if you weren’t hanging innocent ponies.”

“You think everypony you’ve hanged is guilty?” Golden asked.

Flurry ground her teeth. “Probably not,” she admitted, “but I’m not doing it for ‘monarchism.’ You just need an excuse to keep control of Baltimare. I’m sure the Changelings used the same tactics.”

“The Changelings sent dissenters to the rubber plantations in the jungle,” Golden answered angrily. “Most died there, while the damn tribals assassinated leaders and ambushed patrols. Every time they did, the governor brought in squads to punish Baltimare. The idiots thought the bats cared about us.”

Flurry sighed. “What do you want?” Her nose dripped blood onto the sidewalk.

“I want you to leave,” Golden said bluntly.

“I want the port,” Flurry answered.

“Even if I give you the port, it’s worthless,” Golden shrugged. “The tribals have been ambushing the Reich’s supply trucks and raiding them. The Reich can’t get through the jungle, not without burning it down.”

“I’m going to talk to them next,” Flurry retorted. “Stop the reprisals. I’ll get them to stop attacking you.”

“You can’t threaten to blow them up,” Golden laughed, “not without blowing up the entire jungle. They know it far better than anypony.”

“Well, considering they are ‘monarchists,’ I expect to have an easier time,” Flurry quipped. She narrowed her eyes. “No more violence. Start hanging your own if it persists.”

“Should I bow to you, Princess?” Golden asked mockingly.

“I don’t give a shit,” Flurry spat. “This isn’t about me. Ponies are still dying in the south.” Flurry scanned him over with icy blue eyes. Golden Delicious was nervous, but he kept up an appearance of nonchalance for his soldiers. His eyes were dilated. “Stop acting tough. I am not my aunt. I will blow this city apart if it means saving more ponies down the road.”

“You’ll destroy the docks,” Golden pointed out.

Flurry shook her head. “You let me get too far into the city. I’m far enough away.”

Golden walked up to the edge of the shield. Small blue flames and arcs of electricity crackled around the half-sphere. Murky, Echo and Nightshade aimed at him as a precaution. Flurry lowered a wing and motioned for them to shuffle back and lower their weapons.

“How old are you?” he asked. He had to look up into her eyes slightly. Golden Delicious was a tall earth pony, but Flurry was already taller due to her long legs.

“Sixteen,” Flurry answered. “Seventeen in two months.”

“And you’re willing to destroy an entire city to get what you want? You have any idea how many you'll kill?”

“Weter,” Flurry replied evenly. “You’ve heard that story.”

“You blew apart the Republicans to cement your reign in blood,” Golden nodded. “You went from block to block scorching the earth, turning weapons against their wielders. You turned your horn on your own to solidify control.”

Flurry didn’t reply.

Golden clicked his tongue. “Quite the contrast from the stories of a little filly sharing her birthday cake or serving at soup kitchens.”

“Kemerskai planned on betraying me,” Flurry clarified, “and most Republicans surrendered quickly. I prevented my militia from hanging children from trees.”

“The stories are more bombastic,” Golden shrugged. “What do you think they will say about you blowing apart Baltimare? Do you think they’ll remember we were hanging bats? Or will they just remember you?”

“They’ll call me a monster and a terrible Princess,” Flurry said after a moment. She licked blood off her muzzle. “I’ve been called that my entire life.”

Murky looked worriedly at her.

Golden took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. He exhaled shakily. “We’ll give you the port. The Reich can unload their ships and move their supplies through Baltimare. They will not post soldiers within our city, nor will you. The Ponies Republic of Baltimare is independent from Equestria.”

“I’ll recognize Baltimare as an autonomous zone,” Flurry countered. “If you’re independent, I’m not protecting you from the Reich invading to avenge their dead garrison. Where’s your border, anyway?”

“Our territory extends to Maredia.”

Flurry suppressed a laugh. “Try again.”

Golden snorted. “We need farmlands.”

“I’ll negotiate something with the bat ponies,” Flurry promised. “Release every prisoner you’ve taken and stop pushing into the jungles. Stop attacking the Reich.”

“We haven’t attacked the birds since the uprising,” Golden replied. “The bats drove the army into the Badlands, not us. They’ve been encircled for weeks and the air force is flying in supplies.”

Flurry shrugged a wing. “What else?”

“You will never set a hoof in Baltimare again.”

“As long as the ponies in charge don’t want me to,” Flurry answered sweetly. “Do you have enough control over your militias to enforce all this?”

“Yes,” Golden answered confidently.

“Good. Once the agreements are in place, let the bat ponies in Baltimare leave.”

“What?” Golden asked.

“Let them leave,” Flurry shrugged. “They are welcome in my territory as equals.” Nightshade stood a little taller and smiled, showing off her fangs.

“We need them to deter attacks.”

“They’re won’t be any attacks,” Flurry replied evenly. “They can choose if they want to stay with the ponies that will hang them out of fear, or they can follow me.” She bared her flat teeth like Nightshade. “Or do you just want cheap nighttime labor?”

“Fine,” Golden ground out. “Hypocrite. You were willing to kill them a moment ago.”

“So are you, comrade.” Flurry drew out the title with a sneer. The arcs of fire and electricity stopped, but the golden shield remained around the four ponies.

“Comrade Silver,” Golden called over his withers. “Take the Princess to the edge of the jungle. She wants to speak to the bats.”

“Of course, Comrade Delicious,” a unicorn answered. He lowered his glowing pistol and holstered it. The stallion approached the shield nervously, looking at the bat ponies more than the Princess.

“You can drop the shield, Princess,” Golden stated. He waved a hoof at the surrounding soldiers.

“I would prefer not to,” Flurry answered. “Take me to the edge of the jungle. I’ll come back to hash out terms with the bat ponies.”

“We don’t want you back.”

“You’ll have to suffer me regardless, one last time,” Flurry said; her tail twitched in her pants, trying to whip in irritation. “If you are so eager to reject me, I can just give Grover the go ahead to shell Baltimare.”

“Yes,” Golden sighed, “he has experience suppressing freedom, doesn’t he?”

Flurry choked on her intended retort. She looked around at the angry militia ponies, realizing that a few were just as young as she was. A few held their rifles poorly, unused to a weapon in their hooves, and they didn’t have any uniforms. One thin mare only wore saddlebags for ammo.

They stormed the Archon’s tomb. Guards died. Flurry argued with herself for a moment. This is different. They weren’t at war; they weren’t hanging ponies.

…you do that, Princess of Rope.

Golden Delicious waved a hoof down the street. “Escort the Princess to the jungle. Don’t be surprised if she never returns.” The siblings relaxed their stance, but still glared at Golden Delicious with harsh yellow eyes. Nightshade licked her fangs.

Flurry Heart followed Comrade Silver and his squad quietly, lost in thought.