//------------------------------// // 14 - Where Mare Meets Machine // Story: Cypress Zero // by Odd_Sarge //------------------------------// “Sweet mare of the moon.” Fokienia could see the quip rising in reply from Holly, but the pegasus’ luster quickly gave way as well. “I... gosh.” Holly swallowed most of her worry, then turned to the others. “S-stick close, now.” Her wings fluttered. The wing-pistol holstered below her left wing—and the ammo pouch under her right—flashed a few ponies as they galloped by. They slowed, only to run faster. Fokienia didn’t blame them: of the four of the would-be rescuers, three of them brazenly displayed their weapons. And Sequoia’s imposing presence alone was weapon enough. “Fokienia.” Sundown hesitated. “...and Sequoia. Eyes up. Watch the buildings.” Leading on at a steady pace, the four ponies began their descent into the chaos-shrouded Cypress Central. Smoldering embers rained down from the few burning complexes on this street. They weren’t overwhelmed with flames; in fact, the safety systems appeared to be working just fine: the distant sound of fire suppressants was certainly doing wonders for Fokienia’s own worries. Ponies poured out from the buildings and into the street in droves. Nopony was armed, but the fiery complexes still rang out with the occasional disabler fire—and from the aggressive yelling, it was a safe assumption that various interloping squads were engaged in long-form combat. Just up the way, the ponies amok in the streets had coalesced into a slurry of emotions. The crowd was massive, maybe even beyond a hundred ponies in size. And it was only growing as more ponies ran up from behind. Their eyes were locked forward: very few were willing to acknowledge the sounds of combat and disaster overhead. Overwhelmingly, trepidation and fear won out over the voices of anger. It was all set on the demonstrably oppressive wall of black-blue steel erected in the street. Sundown swore sharply below her breath. “Holly, what are we doing about the blockade?” “It’s Concord,” the pegasus noted. Atop the machined barricade, several ponies in standard Concord attire trot along the edge. Heavy, long-rifle disablers hung by their sides, but they kept them aimed above the crowd. Not all of the barricade had been erected: from Fokienia’s place a way’s off from the rear of the crowd, the sliding of steel and yelled commands followed along with the throng of pegasi lifting more of the wall into place. It was still a rapid response, given the close onset of the attacks, but it seemed an ill-conceited effort. None of the officers made an attempt to talk down to the crowd, which by now was teeming with questions. “What are they blocking the road for?” Sequoia asked. “Aren’t these ponies trying to evacuate?” “Things must be worse further on,” Fokienia murmured. She took another look at the gunners atop the walls. One was definitely looking her way, now. “Or...” Sundown flashed a winged salute. The silhouette of her armored vest must have done the trick: the officer glanced at the bat pony, then returned to their patrol. “Or they could be compromised.” Sequoia rolled his withers. “Either way, I don’t think they’re going to just let us through.” “Even if we told them our mission,” Fokienia added. “Which we’re not telling anypony,” Sundown finished. She moved to Holly: the staunch pegasus stared on, but her ears tweaked in acknowledgment. “It’s your call.” “We’ll go around.” Holly took one look at the buildings to their right, then turned to face her companions. “Follow me.” Stepping off the road, they maneuvered away from the crowded Concord blockade, and toward the wall of stores on the other side of the commercial street. Holly stopped them before one shop’s window: from the ponnequins on display, it was clearly a boutique or clothing store. After a moment of thinking, Holly moved past the window and checked the pneumatic door. “Oh... locked?” She leaned around to the window, then back again. She sighed. “Darn it.” “We need in through here?” Sundown asked. When Holly nodded, the bat pony waved her aside with a wing. Sundown took her place at the door, and dug around the inner collar of her vest for the small black square she’d stowed away. Fokienia had already seen the device in action, but Holly tilted her head. “What’s that?” “One of the Project’s...” She slowed. “Er, whatever. It’s one of the Project’s finest achievements, at least for this day and age.” Holding the square up to door for a moment was all it took: the bolts clacked as they rose. Sundown let the square fall back against her neck. The line keeping it around her neck was thin, but Fokienia could tell it was strong. “But let’s just say it’s our skeleton key.” The team moved inside. Sundown’s eyes lingered on the shelves, racks, and displays of clothes within. The store was still lit bright, but unlike the storm of the crowd just outside, it was dead quiet. “Where do we go from here?” “There’s a way into the alley behind. We just need to dip through the backroom.” As Holly spoke, she led them at a hurried trot past the counter. “Bolt? Are you in here?” There was no reply. “Hello?” She peeked around the corner of the open doorway at the counter’s end. “Anypony?” Fokienia took less than a second. “There’s nopony in here, Holly.” “How do you...? Oh. Right.” The pegasus waited, then moved forward. “This is all... so much. I hope he’s safe.” “Me too,” Fokienia replied. She caught the tailwind of an eye from Sundown, but she wasn’t sure why. It just felt right to wish well for Holly’s presumable friend. As they entered the backroom, Sequoia’s voice rose up. “Void previous, Fokienia. He didn’t go willingly.” Holly blinked. “What makes you say that?” Sundown squinted where he was looking, then leaned back. “That’s Project pony work, alright. Good eye, Sequoia.” “I-I don’t quite... follow. Oh. Oh no.” The backroom, compared to Holly’s shop, was tiny. There was enough room for some tailor’s equipment—a workbench and a wall-consuming sewing machine—and some shelving for fabric, but it was all too tight-cramped a space. The giveaway signs of struggle were tucked away behind a loaded shelf, which Sequoia easily shoved back to the side. Fokienia’s ears folded back at the egregious screech it made. A black scorch mark had been blasted into a vaguely spherical shape across the wall, and scorched below it were the crumpled and burnt remains of some cloth and threads. “What do you wager,” Sundown began, her voice pointed toward the bulky pegasus, “was it for breaching, or an interrogation method?” “Maybe a bit of both,” Fokienia muttered. Sequoia gave them both a glance before he answered. “Interrogation. The back door here is untouched. This was a lower class stun mine. They placed it here after entering the building. Would have gone through the door otherwise.” He nodded to the pile of burnt fabrics. “Restraining isn’t out of the question, either. Fokienia took another look around. Aside from the distant motion of ponies, there was no movement inside or close to the shop. “What would have made him a target?” The question hung heavy over them. “He’s such a nice stallion...” Holly strained. Her eyes stayed glued to the explosive residue. “There’s nothing we can do about it.” Sundown nodded to the door. “Sorry,” she added after a moment. “We’ve got a way forward, and there’s going to be plenty more Project operatives out and about. If Concord keeps putting up roadblocks, we’re going to have an even harder time getting to Central Command.” “R-right.” Holly took a breath to steel herself, squeezing her eyes shut. “Okay... For Cold.” With a nod, she opened her eyes, and moved to the back door. It slid open automatically for her. She screamed. The sprawled out, barely breathing body of a pony left everypony taken aback: burned out, the clothes on the back of the unicorn had gone black. “BOLT!” Holly shrieked. She scrambled out the door, falling to her hooves as she rolled the stallion face up. His eyes were shut, and Fokienia could tell his coat hadn’t been too badly burned. Still... “That’s...” Sundown struggled to put together a proper sentence. “...not how we do things.” Sequoia strode by wordlessly, and stooped to peer at the pony from up close. “Fokienia?” “Already on it,” she replied. Her foreleg whined as she approached. “Hold him still.” At this shift in attention, Holly was left more curious than distraught. Her worry and anxiety still shone through, however. “What are you doing?” Fokienia placed her hoof on the burnt stallion’s chest. She could see the blue in her eyes reflected on the metal buttons of his outfit. She waited. Beat. The hypospray hissed as the injection went in. She stepped back. “Waking him up.” A few seconds later, the pony’s eyes shot wide. “Bolt!” Holly cried again. “Are you okay?” “Be gentle,” Fokienia quietly warned. It would be easier to just let the stallion rise on his own, but she knew just as well what it was like to be keeled over a harmed pony... although in this case, some scales on the stallion’s back would’ve helped to lessen the burns. He coughed. His body was wracked with seizures as he wiggled out every fresh breath he raked in. “...H-Holly? Rain... is that you?” “Yes... It’s me, Bolt.” She looked up at Fokienia briefly. She gave her thanks without words. “And some friends.” They propped the stallion up against the wall of the alley. Holly sat next to him, with a wing tentatively draped over him and his flared back. Nopony rushed out a reply from him, but Fokienia could see Sundown’s impatience from the way she stood looking out at both ends of the alley. Finally, Bolt managed to lift his head. His voice was weak, and his body drooped all over, but it was a testament to his strength that he could power through the pain, even with Fokienia’s administered stimulant. He turned to Holly, hoarse. “These guys... came outta nowhere.” “They’re gone, Bolt. Y-you’re okay, now.” Sequoia cleared his throat. “Appearance?” Bolt squinted his way, not out of malice, but sapped of all energy. “What did they look like?” Fokienia dragged his gaze a little further. “We can help you. We’re going to stop those ponies, one way or another.” The stallion stopped to recollect himself before he spoke again. “They looked like... her.” He shook his hoof out Sundown’s way. “Couple of pegasi. Came in the front. Locked the door. Didn’t say a word. Tossed a ring on my horn and... took me out back.” “I’m so sorry, Bolt,” Holly whispered. “Ops, guaranteed.” Sequoia nodded. “They left in a hurry.” “They weren’t patient with the... questions, either.” The stallion wheezed, and sucked in a dry breath. While Holly caressed him with her wing, he managed, and went on. “Wanted to know if they could shortcut the streets to... somewhere.” He shook his head with all the vigor he had. “No, no I don’t know about that, sirs.” “Why would they want to know that? They can fly.” “Conspicuous as they’ve been, I can see why they wouldn’t.” They all turned to Sundown. The bat pony flexed her wings, and stretched her neck to the steel sky. “I haven’t seen a single flier. It’s late, but still, you’d figure there’d be somepony out. Something’s keeping ponies grounded.” Bolt didn’t have a reply for that. Instead, he turned his neck back to Holly. His eyes flashed with worry. “Rain... Why are you so cold?” Holly stood numbly. She kept her wing lifted for him to see the silvery grip of her holstered wing-pistol. “Why do you need that old thing?” She shuffled anxiously, and folded her wing back up. “Bolt... I’m working with these ponies. If I leave you here, promise you’ll stay safe?” After a pursed moment... “I don’t know where to go,” he mumbled. “When the shooting and—and the explosions started, I just tried to stay inside. But you’re not even safe inside...” “Just... You just need to... Gosh. I don’t know.” “Leave your doors unlocked, and hunker down somewhere quiet,” Sundown added. “If a certain somepony wants to find you, there’s nothing you can do to stop them. Stay out of sight, for those who can’t do that.” She gave an appreciative look to Holly. “We need to keep moving. Moonlight’s burning.” “Whatever it is you’re doing... come home safe, Rain.” The pegasus shook as she approached him. “I need to make sure there’s a home for us to come back to, Bolt.” With Sequoia, she hustled the nerve-struck Bolt indoors. Sequoia stepped out first. Holly lingered inside for a little longer, then joined her companions back outside. “I’m ready,” she said simply. “Are you sure?” Fokienia asked gently. “Yes.” She looked down. When she came back up, it was only with gritted teeth. “Let’s end this war before it goes any further.” Fokienia stepped aside, and bowed her head. “Lead on, Holly.” The sight of a mare on a mission was yet another experience she now held and understood in her repertoire. The squad of four stepped out at the end of the alley. The pegasi led from the front: Holly and Sequoia flanked one another. Sundown and Fokienia formed the rearguard, with the former watching the pegasus-stripped skies, and the latter scanning every last wave of motion she could. Past the barricade, there were ponies galloping in both directions, but not so many as before. There were very few residences out here, but they still existed. They watched them all as they hurried through the city and toward the semi-distant green jewel embedded in the ceiling of Cypress Central. The ponies about cut a path around them, avoiding them entirely. Sequoia stared down the stragglers who refused to swerve until the last second, leaving them scrambling to get out of the way. Holly trot with purpose: from the way her left wing was tensed, it was clear she was ready to draw her wing-pistol at her beck and call. Sundown’s tufted bat pony ears twitched and swiveled at each minute sound, keeping her subconsciously in formation while her slitted eyes stayed locked onto the sky. Fokienia could see into the highrises around. At this distance, it was difficult to tell what exactly the ponies were doing indoors, but corroborating the sounds like Sundown gave her enough of a story: frantic fiddling by a crouched pony in one building was given context by the cacophony of disablers firing from within. Even in the ground beneath her hooves, ponies slinked through the maintenance tunnels, their movements mimicking the slow-trot’s pace of a retrieval unit on the hunt. There were plenty more ‘civilian’ movements in the mix, but she had a good enough grasp on her augment by now to tell that there was still a substantial amount of combatants around. But just as she’d been trained, they all fought away from prying eyes. Holly was the first to call out the paradox. “Look out!” she cried in warning. She flit her wings and galloped hard to split off to the side. Before she could fully process it, Fokienia was rolling for cover while a disabler beam soared overhead. The screams of the ponies around intensified two-fold as all four of them dove for cover in the street of discarded belongings and stalls. “Quit hiding! You mercs are all cowards!” Fokienia peeked around her cover. She could see Holly breathing heavily from behind her own stall. Holly drew her wing-pistol out in a smooth, quick flick. “We’re not mercenaries!” “What does it matter? You’re working for another corp, and it ain’t ours!” “We’re not fighting for anypony!” Fokienia yelled back while reaching for her own disabler. Her words passed through her own mind, and the next words flowed right by her lips. “Except for the ponies of Cypress!” In response, a barrage of disabler beams soared overhead. “Yeah? Well tell that to the last checkpoint we wiped!” Ahead, Fokienia could hear a clasp and click from where Sundown had dived. She peeked over, just in time to bear witness to the bat pony in her element. Sundown had trained both Sequoia and Fokienia on the range, and she had a picture perfect form: she was hunched so slightly around the cover, exactly like Fokienia remembered. Her body was entirely shielded, and the barrel of her disabler eked out just far enough to make the shot. The bat pony aimed with two slitted eyes. Her down-sized disabler shrieked like a tiny cricket. Fokienia didn’t have to look further to see the effects. They were profound, and immediate. “Back up, back up!” A new voice screamed. “They’ve got black-grade hardware!” Sundown didn’t say a word: she moved around to a fresh side of her stall and lined up her next shot. Return fire came close, but it did nothing to disrupt her aim. And as Fokienia stood, wielding her disabler in turn, the world slowed. She could hear her own heart pounding in her ears as the tempestuous roar of weapons in exchange dulled across her senses. The ponies they’d rolled into an all-too natural confrontation were stilled with the same flesh as her: they weren’t all too far, and the whites of their eyes flashed back in her own. Like her mentor before her, she said nothing as she pulled the trigger. Pull after pull, shot after shot, each beam soared and sucked at the air in unwavering blasts of emotionless heat and mirage. Amid the carnage, Sequoia’s hoof-falls wound in. From her peripheral view, the stallion rushed in, carrying on his back two flexed wings of steel pinions. He reamed through a pony with his crushing stride, their stray beam arcing harmlessly across the street and more than a pony’s height above Fokienia’s withers. She took the moment to move forward to Sundown, and the bat pony, having thoroughly beleaguered her targets from her current position, shifted forward as well. Holly was no stranger to the warfare at hoof: Fokienia assisted her in downing a stubborn mare who refused to go down after several torso-level shots from the wing-pistol. Her companion didn’t stop to thank her—she hunkered down as more shots were flung her way. Even still, Fokienia’s heart wrenched with pain. Even as a combatant, Holly Rain was an innocent pony, and one who should never have been on the frontlines to begin with. The blood surged back in as the tremendous weight of Sequoia crashed right through a metal stall. His charge drew in the entirety of the enemy force’s fire, leaving Fokienia, Holly, and Sundown to sweep up the rest; they went down like bowling pins. While metal crunched below his hooves, Sequoia slammed into the last of the corporate hold-outs. Together, the pony and the stall carried into the midst of the street. Bits of metal clattered and clanged along the regolith concrete, until the final occupant of the battlefield air was the rapid, cooling hiss of no more than a dozen disablers. The street rang no more. Briefly, the storm brewed again; hardy hooves kicked aside more debris. “Anypony else want to try something?” Sequoia yelled out. “Clear!” Sundown shouted back. Fokienia followed up with her own check. “Affirm. No contacts in sight.” She flicked her augments back off, and wet her eyes with a few blinks. From the back of the squad, Holly emerged. Despite her shaking legs, her grip on her wing-pistol was tight. Her mouth twitched only on reflex as she swung her head around in sentry. “Holly?” Fokienia called. “Are you—?” The mare cut her off with a swift move from both wings: the magazine in her wing-pistol was jettisoned with a smooth flick of her left; and a fresh power cartridge curled up from her reloading right. Holly roughly holstered the wing-pistol, hefted herself with a thorough shake of her wings, and met Fokienia’s look. “I’m fine.” She looked her up and down. “And you are, too.” Just off Fokienia’s withers, Sundown shrilled with authority. “Sequoia, re-arm!” Already by the bodies, he snorted, kicked sharply at the unconscious pony by his hooves, and dipped down to tug at the straps of their gear. Holly, Fokienia, and Sundown weren’t far behind. As Fokienia shifted to her saddlebag to reload, Holly moved ahead. When the cyborg looked back up, she could see the beginnings of a crowd forming on the edge of the fight’s remains. Gone were the creatures of business dressed in suits and dresses, what stood before Fokienia and her companions were the ponies of Cypress. With them, they carried the shock and awe they had no business in knowing. “Y-you stopped them,” a pegasus whispered. Her jumpy eyes sifted between the unconscious bodies, and Holly’s stalwart stance. “They’ll be back up for too long.” Holly’s voice glided into a guiding tone. “Just make sure you get as far away from here as possible.” The shaken pegasus wasn’t so sure. “What about them?” The crowd pulled back from some of the fallen. “Well...” Holly directed them to the figure closing in. As Sundown approached from the sidelines, she gave Holly an approving nod. “Destroy their weapons, arm yourselves, or leave now. I’d suggest leaving. Sequoia?” A few ponies shied away as the massive pegasus—now strapped with a heavy disabler and Concord-issue armored rig (despite all evidence suggesting that the force they’d swept weren’t Concord)—ambled up. “Good to go.” The crowd parted for the three as they stepped through. Fokienia followed quietly from behind. She met the eyes of each and every single pony willing to meet her. Most were watching her, but some had reached down to look more closely at the downed ponies. Still, for as much of a mess things had become, Fokienia could see things as they truly were. Not Cypresseans. Not civilians. Not refugees. Ponies. The pegasus mare, speaking again for the crowd, bowed her head. “T-thank you.” Fokienia stopped. She faced the pony. Ahead, she could hear her companions stop as well. The crowd froze, too. A long pause followed as she passed over every detail of the mare’s visage: from the sag in her wings; to the lack of sleep in her eyes; and her bedraggled mane and coat. She moved her foreleg forward, and hooked it gently beneath the pegasus’ foreleg. “My name is Fokienia.” The mare let her lift their forelegs together. “I was taken from my life, and built for war.” She flexed her hoof, and the mare stared briefly at the steel of her foreleg. “But I promise you, I won’t let war take yours.” Tears pulled at the weary mare’s eyes. “I...” Fokienia could feel it: Sundown’s eyes were on her. And yet... she didn’t interrupt. She shifted her foreleg to wrap herself around the mare in a one-legged hug. “Be strong.” She pulled back, set the mare back on her hooves, and looked to the ponies as one. Fokienia smiled like the sun. The ponies watched as Fokienia turned, and pressed on. She joined her friends. All four of them—the only ponies moving along the street at all—didn’t look back. The crowd lingered for a moment longer. Not a voice spoke. Finally, they strung themselves together, forwent the weapons at their hooves, and moved to continue their journey away from the worst of the fighting. In the inner-most region of Cypress Central, the multi-complex fighting disappeared altogether. It had become a ground war in its entirety. The sky was empty for a reason; nopony was willing to find out why. So ponies flooded the streets, and Holly’s force took to the alleys, winding their way through the dark bends in an attempt to stave off any further firefights. But after all that was said and done, Fokienia couldn’t bear the silence any longer. “Why is everypony fighting?” Sundown answered immediately. “Because they’re idiots.” It was as if she’d been waiting for the invitation to speak. Sequoia snorted. “I’ve heard that one.” She glared at the stallion before turning back to Fokienia. “It’s a rule of the galaxy. Every civil polity, no matter its reputation, has a network of ponies dedicated to making a living off of other ponies’ suffering. With Concord rapid-response, snuffing out the other leeches is a covert mare’s game. Now, there’s no need to hide. The moment comms went down, they went right to work.” “How do you know?” Sundown’s face contorted with disgust. “You saw how fast the fighting escalated. Remember what I said about the Project flying in mercs? These ponies you’re seeing out in the streets? Those aren’t mercs. They’re the scum who go to volatile systems, just waiting for the stampedes to start. Scum working for the smarter scum who started corporations around it all.” “I know something like that,” Holly said faintly. “Right before the Griffonian Conflict, Cold was explaining to me why he wouldn’t be able to bring in as many griffon products as he used to. On top of the embargoes, he refused to support certain suppliers. The griffons called them ‘war hawks’. They were profiting off of the violence.” Fokienia winced. “That’s an awful business.” “Yeah.” Sequoia nudged her, and gestured with his eyes toward Sundown. “Which tells you who exactly was running the Facility.” Sundown started again when nopony else would, but it was hardly in contention against Sequoia’s quip. “I thought they were different. Sure, we’d be working in the gray area, but what is progress without sacrifice? That’s the entire history of the Cypress Projects. Of course the Project would demand the most.” She slowed, frowning far more deeply than before. “But, at some point, I stopped caring that the work was getting darker and darker...” Fokienia leaned into Sequoia before he could say a word. “It’s not your fault.” “I helped create you both. Training you, teaching you, raising you. It was my choice.” She looked at Fokienia and Sequoia in turn. “But at the very least, I suppose, they did fix what they said they would.” “...I do like being able to fly like any other pegasus,” Sequoia added, his voice low, and just above quiet. “It only took ten years.” “I can’t even remember what it was like to have... normal forelegs.” “I remember. Sparring was easier with you, then.” As Sequoia laughed darkly at his own remark, Fokienia joined in. She stopped when she saw the pain on Sundown’s features. “You had other problems before then,” the bat pony remarked. “You probably don’t remember. The bio-pod and gene therapies turned you into a completely different filly. You were the miracle that kept me in the Project.” She sighed with a surprisingly high coating of nostalgia. “I should’ve taken a picture, directives be damned.” Fokienia blinked, and her heart twisted as the words sank in. “What was I like before?” “You...” Sundown glanced at her, then quickly away. “You’ve always been Fokienia. I just meant physically... that’s all.” After all Fokienia had experienced in the last three days, if Sundown was lying, she would know. But the emotions her heart saw only told her of the sorrow and remorse aching through the bat pony. “I see.” “Girls?” Holly waved them forward. “Come take a look at this.” Following after alternating commands between Holly and Sundown, the four of them had maneuvered past a nigh-ceaseless sea of barricades, roadblocks, and marauders. It wasn’t their first time crowding around an alleyway corner to get an unnecessarily simultaneous peek to be sure their path was clear. Sequoia, who’d been content to lean most of his bulk out, immediately withdrew into the shade of their urban corridor. “That’s a Concord checkpoint.” Despite what they’d witnessed at the barricade all the way back on Holly’s street, they had yet to encounter that same level of Concord authority. What remained of Concord instead was a series of disconnected cells and patrols: they’d seen their fair share of surrenders and squad-wipes as corporate-backed mercenaries and marauders went about disarming and looting all they could from the once imposing state-of-the-art police force. “That’s them, alright.” Sundown tapped on the wall and pulled back from the corner. “Fokienia, what do you see?” She didn’t have to lean around the corner like the others. She stared through the wall at the unmistakable sea of ponies in motion. She began counting. And counting. “Fokienia?” Holly asked with worry. “There’s got to be at least thirty ponies clustered over there.” “Same size as a Concord QRF,” Sundown noted. “With comms down, it only makes sense that they’d keep their assets close to home. Any civilians?” After an extra second to squint, Fokienia shook her head. “Nopony’s in the street. It’s just whoever’s in the checkpoint. And I can see more than a few weapons drawn.” “Which makes attempting forced entry... a problem.” Sequoia scuffed the ground. “Untrained units like the ones we’ve been fighting are one thing. This is an actual force.” “Concord isn’t to be underestimated,” Sundown acknowledged. Fokienia knew that just as well. “So, what are we going to do?” Turning to Holly, Sundown spoke gravely. “Is there any other way around?” “The Cypress Central offices are right there. The lifts to the Central Command Center aren’t much further than that. But there’d probably be even more officers, there...” “Of course...” Sundown clicked her tongue. She growled to herself. “We’re going to have to face them either way.” “Maybe they’ll let us through?” Holly suggested. “We didn’t try before.” “No. It’s too risky.” Sundown looked up, but the buildings flanking their position stopped her from seeing the jewel in the sky. “We’re close enough to the command center that they might still maintain ways to phone home. Possibly with low-tech solutions.” “Like light signals?” “Or just word of mouth, especially if they have access to the lifts like you said.” “Could you remind me why working with Cypress Concord is a bad idea?” Holly sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m so used to being able to trust our officers.” Fokienia could see the frustration in Sundown’s eyes, so she answered Holly. Besides, it was her fault that the pegasus was in this with them. “Remember, they’re compromised. We haven’t run into any Project operators, and they’ve been integrating themselves in Concord for years. It’s not unlikely that some of the ponies over there are still working with the Project, even with communications severed.” “There’s a reason the Project invested so much into infiltrating their chain of command,” Sundown remarked dryly. “If Concord knew who they were, I wouldn’t be surprised if even the most loyal officers would willingly support Project operatives. The respect is a two-way street. They’re the best of the best. Ponies cut from the same cloth, just on different sides of the line.” She stopped to think for a moment. “Hold on.” Sundown motioned at Holly. “Get your PDA out. I don’t think comms would be back up, but we can’t be too sure.” Opening her jacket, Holly retrieved her PDA. They all stared as it hummed to life. It chimed cheerfully, and started to sing its song—Holly was quick to muffle the speaker with a wing. “...There.” She held the device out for Sundown to see. “It’s...” Her slitted eyes scrawled across the screen. “Dead. Okay.” Sundown took a breath while Holly stowed her PDA. “Regardless, we’re close enough that reinforcements are a real threat. I don’t fancy our odds of getting through if it turns to a fight or an arrest attempt, doubly so if they manage to get more officers involved.” While the others thought to themselves, Fokienia checked in on the garrison again. Sundown froze. Fokienia looked at her. She could see the mare’s ears twitching rapidly. “What do you—?” Sundown’s hoof latched out, grabbed onto Holly’s withers, and pulled them both to the ground. Then, she locked eyes with Fokienia. “Get down.” Sequoia and Fokienia complied, just as a sharp whine shrilled into the air. Faster than anything should ever move within a station, a massive black shape zoomed over the alley. The purple glow of the magical projectors beneath wouldn’t have done a thing to them, but the sheer velocity of the object sent a gust billowing up and down the walls of the alley. The yells came before the explosions. The world shook and trembled like popcorn as flashes of light powered down from the direction of the checkpoint beyond the alley. Sequoia stared on, jaw agape. Holly screamed, even while Sundown held her with two forelegs. The bat pony’s ears had folded over, and her eyes were screwed shut like the pegasus in her vice. Fokienia’s eyes couldn’t leave the shape of the hover-craft as it looped around the sky twice more, before shooting off into the distance. She was the first to stand, and she stepped to the mouth of the alley to look with her real eyes. There were no flames. There was only a cloud of white smoke that billowed out like a crashing wave. She could hear screams from within. The figures further bolted away in whatever direction they could. Some bumped into walls and ponies, before managing to gallop in the direction of the station interior’s bordering wall. Others came her way. Fokienia was still rooted to the spot when the cluster of Concord officers emerged from the smoke. Their coughs, screams, and tears flew all around her as they fled from the bombed checkpoint. Nopony spared a moment to look at her. They ran for their lives. Trained as they were, nothing could prepare them for this. They were still ponies who acted on pony principles. Ponies who acted for peacetime, not war. Distantly, the whine of the enemy hover-craft finally faded out. Sundown’s voice filtered in from behind her. She could tell she was still on the ground with Holly. “What... what do you see, Fokienia?” “They... gassed the checkpoint.” She stared at one officer as she sprinted right by. She was stumbling on each step. But she ran, and ran. “Goddesses...” And then the whine rebounded. Fokienia jumped back into the alley, staring at the cloud of white gas as the hover-craft returned. It slowed just above the intersection before the checkpoint. The whine of the vehicle descended into a tell-tale hum. The machine had no emotions, but Fokienia couldn’t help but feel remorselessness emanating from the hum. It had served its baleful, ruthless purpose, and could easily do so again. It had been built for this. It was a stark reminder of just how inequine the world could be. The craft hovered to a ‘stop’ just shy of the smoke. She heard a hiss and the sliding of steel, then the nigh-thunderous sound of hooves hitting the ground. Wearing gas masks, the ponies emerged and trot easily into the smoke. Their vehicle and uniforms were pressed with Concord’s insignia and colors. But these were not the same peacekeepers who had fled. Fokienia whispered, “It’s the retrieval unit,” and her voice was left hoarse. Sequoia’s metal wing graced along her spine. But his response was monotonous. “Yes.” Sundown appeared in an instant. Her eyes were wide, and Fokienia could practically feel her heart pounding. “They landed?” “No, they...” Fokienia trailed off. The craft descended, and the hum fell silent. The purple glow on the street beneath faded away. “Go.” Sundown’s disabler was in her grip, and she was out of the alley yelling. “Go go GO!” A door on their side of the craft opened up, and an armed pony— They were launched backwards, and fell limp on the ground beyond the craft. Sequoia fired two more heavy disabler beams to follow his first strike, shooting right through the craft entirely. All of his shots went blindly into the smoke. He started sprinting after Sundown, but his aim did not suffer for it: he didn’t splash against the hull of the craft. Fokienia whipped around, ignoring the rapid-fire and heavy lances of Sundown and Sequoia. Holly was scrambling to stand. She pulled her the rest of the way to her hooves. The pegasus reached for her wing-pistol. Her tears rode on the determination in her eyes. “Go.” As they raced to catch up to Sundown and Sequoia, Sundown lased down another pony peeking from within the craft: they collapsed inside. Sundown thud her whole side against the hull as she pressed up for cover: now, blue beams returned from the smoke, which was steadily encroaching on the craft. Most of the shots splashed against the hull, leaving the metal arcing and whining with residual magic. “Cover me!” she yelled to Sequoia. She jumped up, her hooves bouncing on the metal floor, and rounded around the corner toward the cockpit. Sequoia crouched low, letting his side-mounted disabler rest on the floor of the craft. His weapon beeped aggressively. He responded by slamming more shots through the doors. Fokienia ushered Holly to Sequoia’s left, right where Sundown had stood moment before. Then, Fokienia jumped in. As she swept the right side of the craft—away from the cockpit—her eyes widened. The whole craft hummed, and then began to rise again. Seeing the opportunity, Holly leaped up. Sundown stood with the craft as it lifted back up. He didn’t stop firing, even as he rose from a crouch to his full stance, his weapon braced on the floor the whole time. The gas was mere hooves away from the craft, but he continued to fire, his lips peeling back to reveal gritted teeth. Sundown’s shrill shriek bounded in from the cockpit. “GET IN!” Fokienia tore her eyes away from the passenger seats and rushed to manually close the craft’s right door. She slammed on the button, and while it started sliding shut, Sequoia struggled to pull himself up. He stepped back away from the edge of the craft, and punched his screeching rifle from its mount. He reared back, then landed his forelegs on the inside of the craft. Between and around his lower body, disabler beams whizzed by. Fokienia threw her weapon haphazardly—it clattered elsewhere—and dove for him, her forelegs outstretched. He gripped when her metal hooves couldn’t, and pulled himself up. The right door sealed shut, but with one last beam slipping through. Holly ducked below it—where it grazed her mane, searing hairs off in a blaze. She slid around Fokienia. Sequoia was already inside by the time she got around. She threw her side against the wall beside the left door, and the door moved to slide shut. The craft veered off, throwing Fokienia to the floor. She felt the cold of the window against her cheek. She lifted her head. Below them, the shielding to the craft’s windowed underbelly opened to show the street just below the craft. The ground sped by with increasing speed. And then, the world began to rise, the craft tilting and turning upward as if it were climbing a hill. They leveled out. The screeches against the hull disappeared. A resounding heave of breath freed Fokienia from the adrenaline flooding her veins. Holly, leaned against the wall she’d slammed into, slowly slid until her back and rump were flush with the floor. She holstered her wing-pistol, folded her wing... And cried. Sequoia didn’t rise from where he’d slid into the craft from. His breathing was heavy, but gradually easing out. He stayed there while Fokienia stood. Fokienia moved to Holly, and sank down to be close to her. “You did good, Holly...” Her fierce crying turned to choked sobs. “I-I just want to see my... m-my special somepony,” she croaked. A glance at the cockpit kept Fokienia confident in her reply. “Sundown’s going to get us the rest of the way.” She nuzzled into the crook of Holly’s neck, and stayed there. “You got us this far. You did good, Holly. You did good. Thank you.” She pat Holly down for as long as she maintained her hug. There was no stopping it from feeling too soon a separation. Fokienia’s attention moved back to the last conscious enemy aboard the craft. Buckled into his seat, the familiar bat pony stared on. Fokienia caressed Holly one last time, then stood. She cautiously trot over to the stallion, the hairs of the coat below her jumpsuit on edge. “Who are you?” His eyes were all there, but he was silent. He eventually looked away, then rattled his cuffed forelegs. “Nopony.” He replied. He nodded his head to four beats, but didn’t look back. “I’m just along for the ride.” Her eyes teemed with recognition. “You...” She looked back Sequoia, who was now sitting up, and looking attentively. “You worked with Sequoia. Back at the clinic.” “And back before then, too.” He looked at her again. “I don’t blame you if you don’t remember. That whole operation was nothing but a mess.” He nodded, then grinned around. “Nice work here, by the way. Team lead’s been throwing a hissy the last two, three days, and this is the cherry on top. You love to see it.” Sequoia approached. Instead of the hostility Fokienia expected, she felt his exasperation. “I’m not surprised to see that you’re still working with the unit.” The bat pony raised his eyebrows like his forelegs. “Does this look like I’m working, C1?” “It’s Sequoia.” “And my name isn’t ‘Bat’, Sequoia, but you don’t hear me fighting you on that.” The corner of Sequoia’s mouth twitched. His exhaustion was replaced by amusement. “You used to.” ‘Bat’ snorted with incredulity. “Okay, Mister Attitude Adjustment. I didn’t know you could be a funny guy.” He shook his head, waved his hooves, and went back to Fokienia. “What’s your friend’s story, hm, Fokienia? Swapped out the kirin for a pegasus?” She glared at him, and she was a little taken aback at how satisfying it was to see him shrink. She stopped, and settled on a frown. “We’re going back for him.” Holly broke in before Bat could reply. “You know Cold?” She wiped at her eyes with the back of her fetlock. “Hardly,” Bat replied tersely. “He was working with Fokienia.” He glanced at Fokienia for confirmation, then continued. “Guy’s got guts, I’ll say that much.” A brisk laugh broke out of Holly, forcing the last few tears from her eyes. “Yeah, that’s my stallion.” Fokienia smiled at the sound, and beamed smugly. “We kicked your flank, Bat.” Even Sequoia laughed. “She’s right, I was there.” A small wince worked through Fokienia; she had been a little harsh on Sequoia at the clinic, but she supposed it had all worked out. In a way, it was funny that their fights beyond the spars could bring them together. Bat looked at the three ponies with a growing frown. “Hardy har har.” Fokienia sighed, somehow eased by the odd, but light moment. “Well, Bat, I think that’s enough flank-kicking for you. Do you want out of those cuffs?” He blinked, took one look at Sequoia and Fokienia’s augmented limbs, then blinked again. “What? Why?” Sequoia shrugged for Fokienia. “Are you running with the retrieval ops?” “No, they thought I let you loose. As if I was supposed to be the one watching you or something.” He shook his head. “If I knew you were going to run off to Fokienia, I would’ve gotten out of that sickbay, and never come back.” Fokienia tilted her head. “Why’d they blame you for that? Sundown brought Sequoia with her.” He stared. “Wait, are you...? Are you serious?” He turned to the ceiling and groaned. “Not all bat ponies are the same!” “Is—is that CCI?” Sundown’s voice called from up front. “Cascade! What’s your sorry rump doing on my craft?” Fokienia watched Bat’s—or rather, Cascade’s face dip right into horror. “Oh no.” “Sequoia, bring that idiot up here!” “S-Sequoia, don’t bring this idiot up there.” Sequoia grunted. He started toward Cascade. The bat pony squeaked. “Buddy... guy... f-friend?” Sequoia paused. He looked to Holly. The mare was hiding a smile behind her hoof. She pulled away in surprise. “O-oh, yeah! Go ahead, Sequoia.” In a few moments, Cascade was up and out of his seat, and being forcefully escorted by the scruff of his neck. “C-come on! This isn’t even your craft!” They stepped over the unconscious body of the unit member, and disappeared into the cockpit. Sequoia shut the door behind him. Thinking better of their second unwilling passenger, Fokienia slipped the gas mask and gear from the disabled unit member, and dragged him to strap into Cascade’s former seat. “Gosh.” Finished, Fokienia pulled away from her work, and peered at Holly. The pegasus was looking much less pale, color having come back to her cheeks. “You okay?” The mare giggled again. “Yes... I’m just happy that’s all over with.” She looked down at the floor by her hooves, where the terrain of the city was still passing. “I needed that.” Fokienia came down and sat next to her again. She smiled a little bit. “That should be the worst of it.” “Thank you. For what you said.” Holly lifted her head. “I’m glad Sundown took control back at the end there.” “She’s good at that,” Fokienia agreed. “But you still got us there. She might be quick and precise when it comes to going for the kill, but leading us through the streets was all you.” Holly sighed. A great big weight was still spread across her withers. “I hope we find Cold soon, Fokienia.” “We just evicted the only ponies patrolling Cypress Central from the sky. We have a straight shot to the Central Command Center. And we have ponies willing to fight, even when they don’t want to. That’s you and me,” she whispered. “I would say things are looking up.” “...You’re inspiring. Do you know that, Fokienia?” When all she received was a head tilt, Holly continued. “What you said to those ponies in the crowd... that was really sweet of you.” “I just told them how I felt,” Fokienia said plainly. “Isn’t that how ponies are supposed to act?” “It is. But ponies usually follow. Leading is an immeasurably difficult task.” Lifting her hoof, Holly gently placed her fetlock below Fokienia’s muzzle, just behind her jaw. “And I don’t mean leading like Sundown... or trying like me. You lead for hope. The hope for a better tomorrow. For life.” For a time, Fokienia was quiet. She let Holly run her hoof back and forth in a soothing motion. “Cold told me about hope, once.” There was a visible hitch in Holly’s thinking, and Fokienia almost thought she’d said something wrong. Then, the pegasus tilted her head down, and nodded, a warm smile wrapping over her lips. “Even in war, there is hope.” Fokienia blinked in astonishment. “He... he said that. How did you know?” “Because you know Cold as well as I do,” Holly softly boasted. “Remember everything he’s told you. He understands hope as much as the princesses do.” She lowered her hoof. “You reminded me that we forget just how strong hope is, and how much we need to fight for it.” She smiled sadly. “We ponies never do well to remember our history. It always takes a certain kind of pony to make us remember. You are that pony.” Silence. “Don’t fight me on this, Fokienia. I can tell you fought Cold. But you’re more than you think you are.” She placed a hoof on Fokienia’s hindleg. “You have the power to give ponies hope. Be confident. Be strong.” “But...” Fokienia’s fight fled her. “The kirins lost so much, but they chose to give,” Holly murmured. “You’ve lost so much, and I’ve seen first-hoof how easily you’re willing to give. You think so little of the wider wake of your impulses, acting moment to moment, not realizing just how much of an impact you have on others. You can do so much good. You have done so much good. Everything you learn, you use, and you share. You have a wonderful gift, and I want you to continue to share your hope. Ponies need it more than ever.” She didn’t argue against that. “I barely know what it’s like to be alive.” “But you do. You do know. You do understand. You have drive, Fokienia. You have a willingness to keep going. And... it makes ponies like me want to follow you. Ponies like Sequoia. Sundown. Cold.” “But I follow Cold.” She looked at Holly’s hoof; she was still leaned on her leg. “There’s nopony to say that friends can’t follow each other.” Holly pressed closer. “You can build a future together. Give ponies certainty through hope. To show the way forward. To build upon the past. To show that ponies are still ponies. No matter what.” “You’re asking me for all of this?” “I am not asking you. I am telling you to show more of yourself.” Fokienia breathed. “I find it hard to believe that I can do... any of that. That I’ve done any of that at all.” “But I believe in you. Cold believes in you. Sequoia believes in you. Sundown believes in you. Ponies believe in you.” “Who do you believe I am, then? A leader? A pony? A friend?” From between her hindlegs, Fokienia rubbed her metal forelegs together. “I... am a war machine. A machine built to seek, analyze, and destroy.” She met Holly’s eyes. The pegasus was so close by now, and her voice so quiet. But the words she invoked dove deep down through her, and touched right at her soul. The soul she still had. And it was almost far enough to make Fokienia believe in herself. To believe that the observations she’d made of others was something she could now proudly say was a part of her. That she would be able to repeat the same words back to anypony, and truly believe herself. “You are not a war machine. You are a peacemaker.” She was quiet. And then, she wasn’t. “My name... is Fokienia.” There was no artificial cadence to her voice, only the vigor of her truths, and the irrevocable hope she carried with her. With it, she reached far enough to believe the words she spoke, meeting Holly on the other side. “And I am a peacemaker.”