//------------------------------// // Chapter 10 // Story: A Slice of Life // by Twilitbook //------------------------------// A Slice of Life Chapter 10 By Dawnscroll For the past thousand years, the city of Canterlot had been considered the cradle of equine culture. Civilized culture to the views of some. Centuries of art, music, and architecture merged together seamlessly along the miles of maze-like streets that comprised the city. Bookstores, concert halls, and museums were all within walking distance of both places of business and residence. The city itself was an everlasting testimony to the glory of the kingdom of Equestria, having been carved into the side of Mount Avalon. But if there was one things that the ponies of Canterlot took pride in, it was that the mountain city was a center of knowledge. And knowledge was power. While many ponies thought that the Royal Archives found within Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns was the paramount collection of knowledge, this was not the case. Unbeknownst by many, and to the chagrin of the Royal Archivist, one greater library existed within the city’s walls. Located down Haybale Lane and on the corner of Alfalfa Avenue one would find the Shady Oaks Village; a retirement home for the veterans of the kingdom’s armed forces. Within the building one could find nurses, doctors, as well as all the creature comforts a pony could ask for. But infact, its greatest asset was not its staff. They were well appreciated and well paid, of course. But they were merely keepers. All a pony had to do was sit down with one of the many tomes that rested at Shady Oaks, and an entire life’s worth of experience could be recounted. Days gone by, each unique and rich in detail and variety, could be brought to the surface with enough coaxing. It took the books some effort to remember their tales, but in the end, they always did. Everything from the humblest of life lessons to the most magical of adventures to far off lands was there to be heard. Not many ponies came to talk to the books. Not anymore anyway. One particular book, understandably, was a touch fiery this morning. “Quacks!” General MacApple shouted after the retreating doctor. “Charlatans and snake oil salesponies! Out I say! I’ll have none of it!” The doctor, “Now see here-“ he began, before a bottle of pills sailed by his head. “OUT!” the elderly pegasus ordered. “And take your blasted medicine with you!” To his credit, the doctor held the general’s fiery gaze until the door closed behind him. As soon as he was gone, MacApple gave a blustering sigh and fell back into his armchair. “Unbelievable,” he muttered to himself. He gave an annoyed look at the pegasus who sat silently chuckling next to him. “And I suppose you find this funny, Private?” Thunder Smith gave his commanding officer a toothless smile. “Just a bit, sir. Oh, and that’s Colonel Smithers to you.” MacApple raised an incredulous eyebrow. “What rot is this? Who in the right mind would make you a colonel?” “You did, sir.” The old general scoffed in disbelief. “And when the bloody tartarus did I do that?” “Same day Princess Celestia made you a general.” “Ah. So I did,” the grizzled stallion admitted. “But I still outrank you and I’ll have you court martialed, I will!” MacApple warned, “Disrespecting a superior officer! Siding with the enemy! Treason that is. Confined to quarters with half-rations!” “I eagerly look forward to it, sir.” Colonel Thunder Smith, first class, smiled as he took the old stallion’s heat. The elderly unicorn was only a few years younger than his companion, still making him well into his waxing twilight years. The fur around his muzzle had already gone white with age, and the rest of the once sky blue body was faring no better. But the general had not finished his tirade yet. “ What a load of nonsense! Wanting to shove a pill the size of my hoof up an old stallion’s caboose!” MacApple slammed a hoof down onto the arm of his chair, nearly upsetting the mug of tea that rested there. He winced and reached a grey hoof back to rub his pair of tender wings. “There was a medic back in the day... earthpony fella. Now there was a doctor... what was his name?” Thunder Smith’s eyes twinkled knowingly behind his spectacles. “Soothing Syrup was his name. If I remember correctly, his cure to everything was a shot of bourbon. Once went into the medic tent for a sprained hoof,” the unicorn fondly reminisced. “Ten minutes later, I was back on the front lines and single handedly won the battle of Galloping Gulch!” “Those were the glory days, Smithers,” MacApple said as he polished his monocle on his uniform. “The days when a stallion could be a stallion. Roughing it out in the trenches amongst brave comrades. Waiting in the dead of night for the next assault, with only a bandolier of whoopee cushions to keep me company. Gave me a sense of purpose it did.” “Those days are long and gone, general.” The aged unicorn looked out the window at the beams of sunlight that had broken free of the marbled clouds above. “Now look at us.” Mac Apple gestured around the room. A few elderly stallions slumbered on cushions or in their wheel chairs. “A bunch of sodding useless relics we are. Doomed to sit around and wither away while a bunch of colts barely out of diapers wear the armor and chase after fillies.” “So you joined for reasons other than mares love a stallion in uniform?” The general’s mustache twitched furiously. “Bah! You know exactly why I joined. Same as you, same as every other soldier who served with us! I wanted to glue and feather griffons, that's why! It's this new wet behind the ears generation that worries me. Where’s the patriotism these days?” “You’re too old to be worrying about that sort of thing, sir.” Thunder said tiredly. A nearby nurse came and adjusted the blanket that sat on his lap, pulling it up to the old soldier’s chest. “Not that I’m old or anything,” he said with a playful wink to the nurse. She smiled at him, but offered no words of agreement. Instead, she checked to make sure that his wheelchair was firmly locked into place, fluffed his pillow, and doled out a king’s ransom of pills in a small paper cup. The unicorn took the cup with his magic, looking at the mare hopefully. “Any chance of a cuppa gin this time around?” A glass of water was pressed into his magical grip, and the nurse wordlessly left to go help another stallion. Thunder Smith snorted mirthlessly, eyeing her flank as she trotted away. “We’re certainly living the life, general. Beautiful mares, peaceful quiet, and all the pills and tepid water a chap could ask for. What more could a pair of old fuddy duddies need?” “Her majesty turning back the sun four decades is pretty high on my list.” “To days gone by,” Thunder Smith agreed, offering his glass. General MacApple pulled a wry smile and gently clinked his mug. “To the good old days.” The two stallions took a long swing, knowing full well their bladders would seek retribution momentarily for it. “Oh, that reminds me, sir,” Thunder Smith said as he placed his drink on the side-table next to them, “A message came in for you this morning.” Thunder Smith’s horn flickered to life and brought a sealed envelope out from his saddlebags. MacApple snorted contemptuously. “Oh? And what is it? More advertisements for hearing aids or some other new age quackery?” “Actually sir, it came in over the old CAV. Frequency three-one-one. The transmission specified it was for your eyes only.” The pegasus frowned as he swallowed the last of his medication and set his mug down. “You still have that old radio?” “I couldn’t call myself a communications officer if I didn’t, sir.” He tore open the envelope and pulled out the message handing them to MacApple. The general took it, his brow furrowing at this sudden development. He flipped the note open and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “ ‘Alto-stratus with a width of thirty-seven hundred feet located thirteen hundred above sea level. Direction north by north west. Cirrostratus with a width of-’ whole thing goes on like that.” Thunder Smith read, looking over the pegasi’s shoulder. “Looks like a load of jargon to me.” Thunder Smith rubbed at his weary eyes as the words began to blur. “You sure it isn’t meant for the weather officer?” MacApple adjusted his monocle, shaking his head as he did so. “Not a chance, Smithers. There was only a handful of gents who even knew about that frequency, let alone any still alive who would use it. No, this is Cloudspeak. Nifty little code the pegasi came up with during the course of the war. Drove those griffins crazy trying to crack the dang thing.” The next few minutes were permeated by silence as Thunder Smith watched the stallion silently mouth lines and words to himself, slowly piecing the message together. After a few moments of silent reading, MacApple removed his monocle with a trembling hoof, letting the glass dangle by its cord against his breast pocket. He rose from his chair and went to stand before the window, stretching his achy wings again. A single grey feather came loose, fluttering to the carpet. “Well call me a mule.” “Oh we’ve been doing that for years behind your back, sir.” Thunder Smith quipped with a smile. To his surprise, the gray Pegasus remained silent, his lined and aged face almost unreadable. “Have you heard anything about ol’ Shamrock?” “Married a mare right out of college last year, he did. Hot young thing. Old chap had a heart attack on the honeymoon.” “Shame then. What about Waddles?” “Waddles? He moved to Ponyville and became a minister, I think.” Thunder Smith peered at his commanding officer over his spectacles, a small frown on his face. “Why? What’s going on? What’s got you so worked up?” “Tell me Smithers, how much of the old batch still remains?” MacApple asked, his eyes still glued to the paper. “Sir?” “How much of the old platoon do you think you could contact? Quickly, Colonel.” The unicorn scratched at his horn with a hoof, brow furrowed in concentration. “Counting those of us already here in Canterlot… I’d reckon we could pull a solid six score.” “How quickly do you think that you could get them back together?” “In a heartbeat, sir. But for the love of the ancestors, what this all about?” MacApple let the telegram fall from his hooves and drift to the ground. With a final huff of satisfaction he jammed his monocle back onto his face and turned to look at Thunder Smith with a fire in a set of eyes that seemed decades younger. “We’ve been called back to active duty, Colonel. We’re going to war.” ****** Luna's throne room Centuries of court dealing and negotiations before her banishment, as well as a few card games with a certain ebony mare, had left the night goddess with a poker face that could not be beat. It had also left her without a third of her wardrobe, as well as a few tiaras, but that was an entirely different matter entirely. Today, that face was getting a lot of use. It was with great scrutiny that the princess looked over the mare. Her passive gaze washed over the mare's face, her hooves, her flanks, her withers. This was a pretty mare. Beautiful even. There was just one problem. Luna narrowed her eyes at the mare before her. “The drapes do not match your carpet.” Luna said at last. A chorus of dramatic gasps came from the lips of the ponies in the crowd. Such scandal! And to be revealed in public, no less! The mare blushed the deepest possible red and bowed her head, slightly bowed. “Now what am I suppose to do for the remodeling?” Stretched across her back were the ugliest swatches of fabric the princess had ever laid eyes upon. Polka dots of every color were molested by checkerboard rings. Luna vowed to the stars above to burn to the stake the pony who had conceived the design for witchcraft. If she could get away with it, of course. Luna tilted her head, a confused expression crossing her face. “Are thou sure thou are an interior decorator?” “But of course, your highness.” Luna had her doubts on this. For starters, the mare's cutie mark was a pair of smiling poinsettias. How that symbolized being fit to be the Royal Interior Decorator, Luna hadn't the faintest idea. Some ponies had such the strangest cutiemarks in this era. She remembered when they used to be basic things; a sword, a barrel of ale, a flaming trebuchet. Practical things. If there was one thing here that the princess was certain of, it was that her bathroom was not going to look as though a three-ringed circus had a one-night stand with a Neighties love van. "Pick a different color combo?" Luna offered eagerly. The mare's mood instantly brightened, and resumed her groveling. "Oh such wisdom your highness! Of course! I'll get right on it!" The princess of the night resisted the urge to sigh as the mare simpered her way back into the crowd. It was not befitting a goddess to sigh at court no matter how frustrated she was. There were other things she could do, however. “Leave us.” Princess Luna ordered, pressing a tired hoof against her face. Whispers broke out amongst the clusters of nobles. A few of the more daring nobles attempted to call out their own cases, but regardless, no pony budged from their spot on the court floor. She couldn’t begrudge them their unwillingness to leave. Recently, more and more ponies had begun to show and partake in Canterlot’s Night Court, bringing with them their concerns, their questions, and their plights. Many of those present had already spent all day waiting patiently for her sister’s now brief Day Court, only to be shuffled here once that closed. Luna felt a part of her curl up and die inside when she thought about all the valuable time she was wasting here. Didn’t these ponies understand their princess had an entire moon that needed converting to confections? Though her face remained neutral, her eyes sent a plea to her stalwart guard. Private Lethe of the Night Watch, dressed in full guard regalia, stomped her hoof against the tile floor, the resounding cracks seizing the nobles’ attention. As one, silence fell amongst the gathered ponies. The bat winged-guardpony cleared her throat before addressing the crowd. “The Night Court is now closed for the evening. If any of you still require petitions or audiences with the crown, we ask that you bring them at the dawn to the attention of the Day court,” Lethe said with a sort of finality that could not be argued with. One after another, the throne room slowly emptied out leaving the princess with her guards. When the door closed behind the last pony, Luna's facade broke. She let out a great sigh of relief and collapsed backwards into her throne. There was brief woosh of air as her ethereal waves of hair deflated into a baby blue and obeyed gravity. It hung down around her in soft, frizzy little locks. “That,” the princess muttered as she passed Lethe her tiara, “was utterly excruciating.” Lethe gently took the tiara and gently placed it on a cushion next to the throne. Her ward Luna rose to her hooves, her diamond horseshoes tinkling as she stepped down the steps to her throne. Without a word, Lethe fell into step alongside the princess. Together they walked silently through the palace. At this time of night, the corridors were mostly empty save for a few custodians who maintained the palace throughout the dark hours. Cool moonlight poured in through the stained glass and stretched across the marble floors in muted hues. Lethe took pride in knowing she had a very open relationship with her employer. Most guards were expected to be seen, and not heard, but the princess welcomed the company of her guards. Normally Luna joked with her, or would chatter for hours about some new addition to the night sky or a quirk of modern times that she had just discovered. Not tonight though. The princess was silent, wearily trudging beside her. A pair of dark bags under her eyes were one of the many indications that Luna was royally stressed and tired. There was only one thing that could get her princess out of a funk like this. "Moon Pie?" Lethe offered, breaking the chilly ice as she pulled a foil wrapped treat from her armor. The guard almost lost a hoof as it was snapped up by the night goddess. Luna held it between her hooves as though it was the largest diamond in the world. Stars sparkled in her eyes. "Oh ancestors above, how I've needed this." Luna praised, before practically inhaling the marshmallow delicacy. Lethe smiled, but knew that business still had to be dealt with. “Do you want the good news first, or the bad news?” “Good news.” Luna answered as she trudged down the hall, wiping crumbs from her lips. “Give me something to lift mine spirits.” Lethe produced a small clipboard from somewhere on her body. She took to the air in front of her princess so Luna could see as it as she walked. “Well, the good news is that your rating has gone up in the polls. Ponies’ opinion of you is the highest its been in the past millennia and the demand for the Night Court has reached an all time high.” Luna was by no means impressed at this. “And what of the news that bears me ill?” Her guard grimaced and flipped over a sheet on the clipboard, showing her a list of names and times. “The bad news is that the demand for the Night Court has reached an all time high. With the backlog caused by your sister’s new schedule, and the amount of ponies unfulfilled audiences tonight, the number of ponies approaching tomorrow night is going to be insane. There just is not space in the throne room. The line is going to be going out the palace doors at this rate!” Ah. So there was the true cause of the problem. Her sister now spent more time lifting weights than she did ruling. "At dawning, tell my sister's hoofmaiden of our plight. She will understand and give sister the chance to deal with this... overflow." Lethe frowned and checked her clipboard again. "I'm afraid that's impossible. Hoofmaiden Feather Duster will be out of the palace for the most of the day to represent your sister at a diplomatic meeting with the ambassadors from Prance." The princess paused before a window, and looked out over the sleeping streets of Canterlot. Not everypony was sleeping, though. Even at night, the city thrummed with life and lights. Her moon hung fat and heavy over the horizon, well into its descent. She looked down at the wide green expanse of the palace gardens, and an answer presented itself before her. "Very well. Then I suppose the only thing we can do is hold court outside tomorrow night." "Outside? But I... yes your highness. I'll see what I can do." Luna paused and looked up at where Lethe glided above her. Her guard seemed as though she was on the verge of saying something, but was biting her tongue her tongue out of respect. "Is there something else?" Luna asked. “Have you ever thought-” Lethe began slowly. She had to tread- er, flap carefully here. “-about taking a vacation?” The hallway itself seemed to darken considerably in Lethe's eyes. She shivered, as though somepony had dumped a bucket of ice over her and kept within the moon's light that splayed across the floor. The shadows in the hall suddenly seemed a touch more ominous. "Nay," Luna said, her emerald eyes stern. "I have been gone for far too long. A thousand years has passed in my absence. Another second should not pass for this kingdom without I at least being present." The guardpony winced, knowing she had accidentally hit a sore spot. “And what did you do during the course of that millenium?” "Plotted the downfall of Equestria. Schemed on how quickly my power could overwhelm it's armies. Fantasized on how my sister would look, broken and defeated at my hooves as the sun set for the final time." "That's... pretty dark." "A thousand years is a long time. A mare has to keep a hobby." Lethe chucked her clipboard out an open window. "You see, it doesn't really count if you're so much as even thinking about work." Lethe responded. Princess Luna gave her guard a look. "Fine. I guess in your case its 'plotting world domination'. Nevertheless, you came back and immediately picked up the workload again. But now your sister has gone out of action with this diet thing, and your running yourself ragged trying to pick up the slack. The whole system is falling apart!" The ebony mare threw her hooves up into the air, as if to demonstrate how ridiculous she was sounding. "You don't need to be the one to solve everyone's problems. Let somepony else take the stress for a little while." “And I suppose that pony would be thee?” The comment made Lethe freeze in midstep, “Well, I was gonna suggest somepony from the Arcana Council, or even just leave it the chancellor… but I like your idea a lot better. I accept,” the mare said wholeheartedly with a grin as wide as her face. “Why do I suspect thou art planning a coup behind my back?” Lethe rolled her eyes. “With all due respect, Equestria would survive on its own for a week or two while you soaked up some moonbeams.” “Would the palace remain standing once my sister and I returned?” “I can make no such promise.” Luna pressed a hoof to her face to hide the smile that stretched there. “Then it seems the kingdom would be in better hooves than when my sister and I first started our rule.” Private Lethe wings buzzed with excitement and she couldn't help but allow to them take her threw a giddy set of midair loops, spinning past the chandeliers above them. Luna chuckled and shook her head in bewilderment. She could always rely on Lethe to put her in a good mood again. Then, to Luna's surprise, with a precision that would make the Wonderbolts envious, she zoomed back down in front of Luna. Her hoof snapped into a salute, and Lethe puffed her chest out proudly. "Just leave it to me, Princess. The moon and stars would be in no safer hooves." “Not just of the Moon and Stars, faithful Lethe, but I am also goddess of wine, sex, and magic.” The alicorn said with the subtlest of smiles on her lips. “Dreams and fantasies are my realms, and all the pleasures they contain." “See?” Lethe asked, as she hovered above her princess, “Even more reason you deserve a vacation, m’lady! I have all of those covered!” “Even the magic?” Lethe gave a slight cough and glanced back at her wings, ruffling them with a little shake. “I’ve got a few tricks up my feathers, your highness.” The dark pegasus gave a small jump as a deck of playing cards fell from her plumage, spewing onto the floor in a flurry. Stammering an apology, Lethe knelt and began to gather them, muttering curses the whole time. “I meant for that to happen.” The night goddess found her young guard’s eagerness amusing and decided to humor her. “Very well, Private Lethe of the Night Watch. Answer me this; if thou wore mine crown, with our domains and powers as thine own, and Equestria found itself under threat of dragon smoke, how would thoust deal with the serpent?” “Get the Elements of Harmony and have them zap it,” Lethe answered without a beat, as she slipped the deck back beneath her wings. “And if Discord were to break free from his prison?” “Second verse, same as the first.” “And Grogar the necromancer?” Lethe waved a dismissive hoof. “Trick question,” she answered rapidly. “If Grogar is back, that means Tambelon has returned too. Large army would take too much time to assemble and to react. Time and speed are of the essence. Get a couple of pegasi guards to get up there to ring the Bell of Tambelon again and send the old goat back where he belongs.” Luna nodded approvingly. “Very well thought out. While I should not condone thy first two answers... I must agree with them, given the circumstances of the times we live in. The third, I see thou have actually given some thought into.” Lethe rubbed the back of her head, “To be fair, the Night Watch is sort of stuck with the graveyard shift. So sometimes we toss ideas back and forth to help pass the time. Apocalypse survival sorta stuff.” Princess Luna nodded appreciatively. “Mayhaps in a few years, I may consider such a course.” A genuine smile began to stretch across Luna’s lips at the thought. Yes. The idea was truly beginning to grow on her. She could use some time with her sister that didn't involve politics or the running of an empire. "I would have to speak with my sister about this first of course. I fear that she would find such an venture to be insane-" The rest of Luna’s words died in her throat as the two turned the corner in the hallway to Celestia’s room. As was typical, a pair of white pegasi guards stood faithful watch over the entrance to Celestia’s chambers. To both Luna and Lethe’s surprise, however, scores of the Day Guard were patiently waiting in a line extending from the golden doors of Celestia’s bed chambers. “What in Equestria is this?” Luna asked incredulously. “A convention?” Lethe’s dark head poked above a sea of white face. “Nope. Definitely not a convention. “It is not that my sister should not enjoy the mortal pleasures, but now it has become absurd!” The princess fumed. She knew very well what was going on. “I must speak with her.” Luna said, and a pair of emerald eyes narrowed dangerously. “Immediately.” Celestia's guards were pushed aside as Lethe stepped forward and began shoving her way through. “Hey!” “Watch where you’re going!” “ ’Scuse us. Goddess of the Night and world’s supply of awesome coming through. Off the side, boys. Move it!” Lethe ordered as she pushed through the sea of white bodies to make a path for her mistress. Princess Luna followed closely behind her, her mere presence enough to make the stallions part like water. In short time, they had reached the front of the pack. Underneath the steady beat of the music, the sound of passionate clopping reached Lethe as she put her ear to the gilded doors. A tinge of pink crossed the mare’s cheeks. “Oh my… they’re really going at it.” A scowl crossed the night goddess’s face. “I can’t believe that Celestia would do something like this!” “Oh I don’t know,” Lethe said with a glance back at the line of guards. She brushed her tail under a nearby stallion’s chin, offering a small grin to him. “This isn’t the wildest of things that either of you has-“ “How could she have not invited me!” Lethe looked up at Luna with nothing more than pure reverence in her eyes. “I’ll follow you anywhere m’lady,” she said quietly. The dark alicorn pushed her guard to the side and rapped a hoof against her sister’s doors. “Tia! It’s me.” Luna called out, raising her voice to be heard above the music. “I don’t care what you’re doing in there, open the door!” The music from Celestia’s room stopped abruptly, cutting off with a scratch sound. There was the quiet shuffling of bodies from beyond the door, as well as the quiet urgent whispering of Celestia’s voice. The doors opened to let out a breathless, disheveled guard whose armor looked as though it had been put on in great haste. He made a rather feeble salute to Princess Luna, before trying to slink out through the crowd of fellow guards. The next stallion in line made to go through the doors, but was stopped by Luna’s outstretched hoof. With a flick of her magic, the doors to her sister’s room swung open. “Oh, hi Luna,” Celestia said with a lopsided smile from where she was kneeling on the floor. Luna wrinkled her nose at the overwhelming scent of sweat and stallion that drifted from her sister’s room. She bid Lethe to enter with her and the guard pony shut the door behind her. Her sister’s room looked like a tornado had hit it: pillows and bed sheets were strewn everywhere, the contents of a table were strewn about the floor, and the curtain was now hanging from the chandelier. Celestia’s phoenix familiar, Philomena, roosted in the coal of the fireplace, somehow obtaining sleep despite the antics in the princess’ bedroom. “Celestia, what are thou doing?” Luna asked, a neutral expression on her face. “It’s three in the morning. Doesn’t thou have an early workout with thy trainer?” “I couldn’t sleep,” Celestia answered. Her magic plucked a brush from her dresser, dragging it through her hair as she tried to straighten it. "I thought a little... exercise would be good." “And for this thou needeth half of thy household guard?” Celestia blinked in surprise, her lips turning into a troubled frown. “What? You mean I’m half-way through them already?” "Answer mine question!" "Fine," Celestia flicked her tail, a naughty smile on her lips. "I need them because the stamina of one stallion is not enough to match my own." Luna's eyes grew wide in shock. "Thou could kill them! Thou know the exhaustion two mortals face afterwards. But to... with a being like ourselves... Tia its..." “But did you know burns about four-hundred calories an hour!” Celestia said brightly. “And they're fine. We're all having fun!” “But with this many stallions?” “Oh don’t act like the idea doesn’t appeal to you!” Celestia teased her sister, her warm breath tickling her ear. The sun goddess leered at her sister with heavily lidded eyes. “Or need I remind of you of a certain alicorn going wild in the isles of Fleece?” The alicorn of the night turned scarlet under her navy fur. “Sister! Let us not speak of such private matters in front of company, millennia ago or not as it was.” “Oh don’t mind me,” said Lethe, her face brightening as she glanced at the bedroom door. “Personally, your Majesty, I think you could call the Night Watch up here and-” “Please, private,” said Luna in a voice both gentle and chiding as she recoiled, a hoof half-lifted off of the floor, “please let us not involve my guard in this affair. It would be indecent.” Lethe blushed brightly and then looked back down to the ground. A blue aura of magic surrounded Celestia’s brush, freezing it in her hair and before setting it down on the floor. Luna sat down in front of her sister, her face stern and unreadable. Celestia silently fidgeted with her hooves, focusing on them as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. “Sister, look at me.” Two immortal eyes hesitantly met hers and the night princess softened her gaze. “Tia, I’m worried about thee.” "What I do in my own spare time is NONE of your concern, Luna. Besides, I'm fine." “No, thou are not!” Luna protested. Her voice carried an edge of hurt to it. “Thou have been under so much stress lately. First there was all those outlandish attempts to enter our kitchens, and now this?” Luna looked around at the state of her sister's room. Unlike herself, Celestia was meticulous, almost fanatical, about the state of her room. “I fear for thy mind sister.” Celestia scoffed dismissively at the notion. Her, going crazy? This was coming from the one who almost turned the planet into a snow globe. "Now you're just the one whose being silly." "Maybe your right... but I just want my sister back." A tear rolled the navy alicorn's muzzle. The sun goddess instantly regretted her words, mentally smacking herself in the face. She WAS the crazy one. Crazy enough to brush aside Luna when her sister was merely concerned for her. Out of all the ponies and all the reasons to jeer at them, her own sister should be the last on the list. Luna looked up into her sister's face in surprise as a pair of white hooves embraced her. “Oh Luna,” Celestia said as she nuzzled her sister. “I swear to you, I’m good. Nothing is wrong with me. I'm done with all that stuff now.” Her sister seemed to melt into her embrace, the soothing words flowing like honey in her ears. "And the guards?" "I'll send them away after we're done here. I think I'm good for the night." Luna gave a tiny sniffle and looked up at her sister. “Promise?” "I promise." Celestia, released rose to her hooves and began to put her room back together. The sheets on her bed folded themselves neatly, and furniture began to straighten itself under the touch of her magic. A smile crept to her lips as she realized something. "You're just sore that you couldn't join, aren't you?" "YES!" Luna moaned, as she collapsed onto Celestia's bed, instantly ruining her work. All evidence of sadness was gone from her face. "Why didn't thou invite me! We used to do it all the time together when we were foals!" The sun princess rolled her eyes and plucked her sister out from beneath her sheets with her magic, depositing her near the bedroom door. "I'm sorry," Celestia apologized with a wink, "Next time, I promise you'll be the first one to know about my midnight workouts." 'POOMF' Both sisters looked by the fireplace to see Lethe's wings fully extended. The mare smiled guiltily and slowly lowered them. "Hehe... sorry..." "Besides," Celestia said, turning once more to her sister, "You should get some rest while you can. I took the liberty of having Feather Duster set up a few hours for you at the gym with Slender and Schwarzwälder." Luna's eyes lit up at the mention of the red giant.“Now this I look forward too. I have been meaning to spend more time in his fair company." The night princess giggled like a little schoolfilly. "I must see if he may yet fulfill his promise of lifting me a million times!" "I have little doubt that he can." Celestia added with a backwards glance. "I have to get to sleep. Its going to be a long day tomorrow. Goodnight, Luna." “The sun rises in three hours. Do ensure it does so on time, Tia.” Princess Luna urged her sister as she stepped out, quickly making her way down the hall. Lethe turned to follow her dark mistress out, but recoiled back in surprise when the doors suddenly slammed shut in front of her face. A shimmering wall of light winked into existence against the doors, magically barring the entrance shut. A white hoof spun her around, leaving the filly to stare up into the sun goddess’s eager face. “I remember you,” Celestia said, her muzzle only inches away from Lethe’s face. The bat-guard hadn’t noticed it before, but it was strangely quiet in Celestia's room. Dozens of guards waiting outside, but there was nary a peep from them now. Her gut screamed 'silencing spell' and 'RUN'. “You’re the guard who caused so much trouble for me the other day.” Golden eyes defiantly met magenta, and Lethe carelessly blew a strand of hair away from her face. “To be fair, I had help. And you weren’t exactly a challenge.” Celestia extended her wings to their expanse, giving a small moan as she stretched them. Her magic dropped the phonograph needle back onto the record, picking the music right up where it left off. “That’s okay. I enjoy a challenge. There’s a fire in you I can appreciate.” The goddess began to walk towards her, her ivory hips sashaying with each step. Lethe tried to step away, only for her to helplessly press back up against Celestia’s force field. A pair of white wings encompassed Lethe, surrounding the mare in a world of snowy feathers. “Its been awhile since I last had a mare for a partner… but let’s test that stamina of yours, shall we?” ***** Manehatten General Hospital “This is absurd.” Doctor Flatline said, scowling at the ponies that stood before him in his office. He angrily slammed a hoof on the royal orders they had delivered to him. “For years, I’ve been urging with the Court to increase our budget. We’ve needed to money to improve on things. Important things might I add,” he said, his face flushed with resentment. “Things like better training facilities for our nurses, or to update our operating rooms. Not something as trivial as preparing for the undead.” “We actually believe the reanimated subjects to be of the shinobi variety,” said the leader of the group. “Or just shinobi,” added the mare behind her. “Riiiight,” Doctor Flatline said sardonically, glancing at each of them in turn. He had returned from a rather stressful operation only minutes ago, eagerly looking forward to a few minutes of peace and quiet in his office. Instead, the surgeon found a group of strangers in the room, one of them sitting at his desk no less, and handing him orders embossed with the royal seal. Each of the ponies wore a nondescript black suit and sunglasses which obscured their cutiemarks and eyes respectively. “And I suppose I’m just supposed to take the word of…” he trailed off with a frown. “I’m sorry, you haven’t exactly told me who you’re claiming to represent.” “You would have never heard of us. Technically our division of the Equestrian Military does not exist.” The leader of the group said, as she reached beneath his desk. She brought up a shot glass and his bottle of emergency whisky that he kept for more stressful days. Propping her rear hooves onto his desk, she poured herself a glass.“Chances are that after this meeting you’ll never see us again, nor will you ever hear mention of us. Our organization tends to work in such methods.” “I think I’m going to get security because a bunch of crazy ponies broke into my office.” Flatline said, turning to leave. He gave a small ‘oomf’ as he walked into the chest of the stallion who barred the door. A low growl rumbled from the agents throat. “...on second thought... why would I want to leave such wonderful company?” The mare smirked and downed her shot, smacking her lips appreciatively. “Its nice to take a break once in a while, wouldn’t you agree Doctor Flatline? A pause in the usual craziness our daily lives seem to be full of. Sometimes its necessary to just step away from everything and thing about the metaphysical things like life. Like how that wall will be breaking. Get down, Doctor.” Flatline blinked in confusion. “Excuse me?” “Get him down!” the mare shouted. One of the stallions roughly grabbed Flatline with his magic and flung him beneath the desk just as the door to his office exploded into fragments of woods and glints of metal. “What the buck is going on?!” the doctor asked, trembling. He dared to poke his head out from beneath the desk and nearly had a heart attack. His office was destroyed. Dozens of throwing stars were embedded in the walls behind them. The repetitive moaning for brains echoed down the hall. The mare gave a weary sigh and swung her hooves off of the remnants of the doctor's desk. “It looks like we’re earning an early bonus,” the mare said, as the ponies in black began to file out of the room. “It’s been a pleasure Doctor. But it looks like it's time to get back to the action.” ***** Canterlot Palace Just outside of the Royal Kitchens Hoplite narrowed his eyes, not even sparing his fellow guard a look. “I hate you.” He muttered through gritted teeth. A thoroughly exhausted Lethe smirked triumphantly besides him. Hoplite was having yet another a bad day. He was getting used to it. When he had been told that morning that he was going to guard an area of great importance today, Hoplite’s chest had swollen with pride. He felt for sure that his ship had finally come in. Now, he was struggling to understand his superior’s definition of ‘importance’. Hoplite, personally, would’ve defined “importance” as ‘the state of being of great value’. It would be used in sentences such as “Private Hoplite, you are assigned to protect a pony of great importance; watch over the chancellor,” or “Private, the tunnels under the city are of vital strategic importance.” An even better usage of it would have been “Private-” No. Wait. “Sergeant Hoplite, an issue of national importance has arisen. You must guard the statue of Discord with your life. Let nopony enter the vault!” Yes. That sounded right. Sergeant Hoplite. Very nice ring to it. Befitting for a pony who had devoted his entire life to the servitude of Equestria’s royals and ideals. Strange then, Hoplite thought to himself, that he found himself guarding the doors to the Royal Kitchen again alongside the very bane of his existence. Because he was the best stallion for the job. Technically he was the ONLY stallion for the job. Every member of the Day Guard, his superiors included, had called in sick that morning. Something about “extreme fatigue” or some other nonsense. That left the Day guard with a skeleton crew of one private. This would have been bad enough, if not for Lethe relating the events of last night to him. He prayed that the night guard's tale would come to an end. But the thrice-cursed mare would not shut up. “It was incredible,” Lethe giggled and she flapped her wings. “It lasted hours and hours…” Hoplite pressed his helmet further over his ears. “I’m not listening!” “-and the princess is just so flexible. I never imagined she could bend herself like that. She just made me feel so alive, you know?” “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” “And the way she moved her hooves!” Lethe gushed, pressing her hooves up to cheeks. Her leathery wings burst out at her sides at the memory. “I’ll never forget that night as long as I live.” “By the ancestor’s above… oh who am I kidding.” The white pegasus sulked , a veritable rain cloud hanging above his head. Lethe stuck her tongue out at him, giving him a playful wink. “You should’ve been there when she called in the rest of the guards from outside! We all formed one big line, one right after another and-” “Alright alright I’ve heard enough!” “How the heck are you even still standing?” Hoplite asked in bewilderment. Lethe raise a hoof and flexed her muscle. “I guess I have a little more stamina than the stallions of the Day Watch,” she said, with a self-satisfied smirk. “That, and it’s something I’m actually sort of used to.” “Oh that makes perfect sen-“ began Hoplite before he did a double-take. “Say what now?!” “Mhm. Every Saturday I hit up the clubs, have some drinks, talk to some boy, and then we do it right there in front of everypony.” At the sight of Hoplite’s dropped jaw, her lips curled into a roguish smile. “If I don’t leave there with every part of me sore and achy, then its just a waste of my time.” She gave a tired yawn, hiding her mouth behind her hoof. The mare seemed to be practically falling asleep on her hooves. “Seriously, you should have been there last night. The stallion who was behind me really knew how to move his-” "I GET IT!” Hoplite exploded suddenly, pressing his hooves over his ears. “You got to dance the night away with the most beautiful mare in the world! You did the world’s biggest conga line with my co workers! You've only told me five times now! Good for bucking you!" Lethe pouted. “Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bunk today,” she mumbled under her breath. She stood over where Hoplite lay on the floor. “What, do you not know how to dance? Here, I’ll teach you. Just step and step and shake… do the mumbo…” Lethe waggled her hips, bumping them into her accomplice’s. “I just can’t believe you got to dance with Princess Celestia before I did,” Hoplite mumbled as he rested his chin on the floor. “Oh there, there.” Lethe said as she stroked his buttery hued mane, “You’ll get your chance with her one day. After everypony else has had a dance first, of course.” “Joy.” Hoplite buried his face into his forelegs. “Well I so look forward to when that day comes.” The bat-winged pegasus rolled her eyes, gently bucking his side. “You are such a bore!” she groaned. She knelt down next to him, placing her head next to his. “By the way,” Lethe asked him, with a sideward glance. “Why weren’t you waiting with the rest of them? You would’ve loved it when the disco ball came down.” Hoplite seemed to shrink in on himself further, averting his eyes from the mare’s pressing gaze. “I was sick.” “Sorry, didn’t quite catch that!” “I was sick.” “Can’t heaaaaar yooouuuuu!” “I said I was sick! “Wow,” Lethe’s smile dropped at her coworkers misfortune. “Talk about horrible timing.” Hoplite shrugged his shoulders half-heartedly. “Doesn’t matter,” Hoplite said, turning back to face down the hallway. “That’s not how’d I’d want my moment with her to be. “So let me get this straight, you’ve never danced with anypony?” Lethe asked with a laugh. Hoplite solemnly nodded, a dreamy look in his distant eyes. “The moment was to have been perfect,” he whispered to himself. “It would be the night of the Grand Galloping Gala, and it would be the most magical night of our lives. She would be greeting the guests like she did every year and she would be beautiful.” “I would stand by her side, in full uniform, as her silent watcher. Once she found the frivolities of the guests to be too much for her, I would whisper the suggestion to steal away to her gardens for some peace and quiet. It would be empty for save us, and everything would be just right. A warm breeze, fireflies, and of course, the most auspicious night Princess Luna had ever created. There I would kneel and confess my undying love for here. I would lay my feelings bare, oh the pure an unadulterated fervor that burns within me-" Lethe made a gagging sound next to him. The male pegasus merely glared at her. “And then, with only Luna’s stars as our witness, I would ask her to dance. And then our story... our story of love would begin.” Hoplite said breathlessly. Lethe gave him a deadpanned look. “Seriously?” she asked, all trace of amusement gone from her voice. “That’s your big plan?” “...you don’t sound convinced.” “Hop, do you see that hallway?” Lethe asked, gesturing with her hoof. “Yes, what about it?” “If I counted all the ways that this fantasy of yours wouldn’t work, the list would be going down the hallway AND around the corner.” “At least I have dreams!” Hoplite turned on her, a petulant sneer on his lips. “Go ahead, laugh at them. It must seem funny to you, doesn't it? Talking to somepony with ambitions higher than their next slice of cheesecake!" "Hey, I have dreams!" Lethe protested. She rubbed a hoof against her eyes to fight off the tiredness that was making her bones feel like lead. "Except they're a ton cooler than just trying to get a dance. I mean, seriously? Genie pops up and offers to ask you one wish, and that's what you'd pick?" "Yes." Hoplite answered proudly. "Total waste of a genie if you ask me." “Oh really? So if you could wish for anything in the world right now, what would it be?” Lethe pursed her lips, thinking deeply. “Anything in the world?” she asked uncertainly. “Anything,” Hoplite urged, angrily ruffling his feathers. He looked up towards the mosaic ceiling where only a few days ago he had helped her remove an entangled goddess from the chandelier. “Wealth, fame, power. What would make you happy right now?” “I wish…” Lethe murmured, “that you’d shut up and stand still for a few minutes.” Hoplite bristled with sudden indignation at the hypocrisy. “That’s not fair! You can’t expect me to just pour my heart out, make fun of me for it, and then just-” he stopped suddenly as he felt a weight press across his sides. Hoplite turned to see Lethe leaning against his body, asleep on her feet. She had draped her head across his back and the mare’s face was one of utter contentment. “Actually,” Hoplite said awkwardly to himself, “It’s kinda hard to argue to with somepony who looks so happy.” He waited for a moment to see if any cooks or guards would come from behind them. Then he stretched a wing over the mare’s body. She gave a small snore and burrowed her face deeper into his neck. “Why must you toy with me.” Hoplite asked the universe wistfully. He waited patiently for a reply. The universe was a cruel, and bitter mare. Hoplite had a feeling she was currently resting on his back. But wasn’t that just like the universe? Just dropped him in the in the warpath path of a starved princess, with all of his peers were absent- Hoplite bit his lower lip. Now THAT was something that had been nipping him in the back of his mind. Hoplite had been a guard long enough to know that everything the goddesses did had purposes. Albeit, recently it had all been rather silly and almost nonsensical, but a purpose nonetheless. Tiring out the entire Day Guard by dancing with them. Normally Hoplite would have bought Lethe’s story that Celestia had done it burn calories. It certainly would. But after all the ridiculous things the princess had done to get by them... No. The princess was playing a game here. Hoplite was no stranger to chess. All guards were strongly encouraged to play it with their peers regularly. It was believed to help improve their minds and give Celestia’s guards a taste for strategic maneuvers. It also gave each of their soldiers something invaluable; the ability to think on their feet if their commanding officers were somehow absent. A common guard who could think several steps ahead of any threat was worth more than a dozen who just blindly obeyed orders. That, and Celestia was rather partial to the game herself and it helped to have several dozen potential players on hand. Hoplite was no great master at the game. In fact, he ranked about average in the barracks, frequently finding his pieces chased around the board only to ousted in the end. In his short career of playing the game, there was one moment that the guard would remember for the rest of his life: the princess had once invited him for a round of it in the Royal Gardens. It was a relatively short game, but it was one that Hoplite would remember for the rest of his life. He had been rather shocked when it had actually started to look like victory was in reach. He had lost only a few pawns; tradeoffs for more valuable pieces. A nice tidy pile of the princess’ pieces had been seized by him, leaving her Crown open for grab within the next few moves. Then the princess had actually begun to play. Pawn, Earthpony, Unicorn, Pegasus, Princess. Celestia had methodically removed his pieces from the board, one by one, casually deflecting any maneuver he threw at her. At last, the brutal game came to a close when Celestia had his Crown surrounded on all sides. Her laughter, bright and lifting his spirit like golden bells, stull rung in his mind as she slid his final piece from the board. Hoplite had learned something that day; Princess Celestia was a master at the long game and was nopony to underestimate. And the match had already started. All of the palace staff was fiercely loyal to the princess. It was the same loyalty that would keep them from knowingly feed the Princess. But the Day Guard were the ones who posed the greatest resistance. But if they were too tired to move... In Hoplite’s mind, the white pegasus moved a chess piece and struck a whole line of pawns off of the board. The princess’ hoofmaiden, Feather Duster, would be out of the palace until later tonight. That removed her piece from the board for the time being. Princess Luna was out at a session of the Haunches Gym, kindly set up by her sister. She too would be gone for most of the day. Guards, Hoofmaiden, Trainers, Sister. With all these gone, what remained to oppose Celestia? The Crown was the kitchens, or at least the food inside of them. Which left only two pieces in Celestia’s path. A white and a black pawn that had inadvertently escaped the goddess’ maneuver. But if both white and black were their side... then what color was Celestia playing?” “Lethe, wake up,” Hoplite said urgently, shaking his partner. Lethe lifted her head with groggy eyes, staring uncomprehendingly at him. “Who-whazzat? What’s going oooooooooooon?” she asked, pressing a hoof to her mouth as she yawned. “I need you to wake up! It’s important!” “Ugh, how much did I drink last night? Hoplite what… what are you doing in my room?” A switch seemed to go off in Lethe’s brain and her eyes grew impossibly wide. “Holy buck, did we… did we at least use-?” “What! No, listen-” Hoplite exclaimed, instantly removing his wing from Lethe’s backside. He took one look at the mare’s watery eyes, her trembling lip, and knew that all hope was lost. “-oh crap.” Lethe broke down, sprays of tears bursting from her eyes like faucets. Hoplite fumbled for words, his mind reeling as he tried to comprehend what Lethe was implying. “What... have you done?” managed Lethe with a sniffle. “Uhh...” “Oh Luna, how could I have let this happen. With YOU of all ponies.” “Uh, it’s not that bad,” mumbled Hoplite. Geez, that mare sure knew how to make a stallion feel welcome. “I’m going to have your baby! Why didn’t you show some restraint? Why did you let me drink me much! I can't handle liquor!” Hoplite blinked, too surprised to even correct her. “My WHAT now?” Lethe’s gaze didn’t waver. “I will lose my rank. I will have to lose my relationship with Princess Luna. I’ll never be able to live down this shame. They’ll never let me stay in the Night Watch with a foal at my hip. I’m... I’m not ready to be a mother.” She gulped, and her golden eyes looked tragic. “Oh, Hoplite, do you love me? I’m scared.” The question caught Hoplite off guard. Did he... love her? Hoplite would have to be blind to not to think Lethe was cute, but... well, it was easy to get frustrated with her impossible to not like her he wanted to kiss the girl hard to keep up with her. He wasn't sure what to think. They never really covered 'Dealing with a Mares feeling' in boot camp. Hoplite made to answer, but a pair of hooves wrapped around his neck. With a sudden grab, his air supply was cut short from the hold that Lethe had on him. Pure intent for murder glinted in the mare’s eyes. “You stupid colt! You did this to me on purpose!” Hoplite’s vision swam before his eyes as he struggled for to breathe. He crumpled to his knees, his limbs hopelessly flailing about as he tried to shake her. His mouth silently formed words that his breath could not carry. “What was that, stud?” Lethe relaxed his grip on him, allowing a smidgen of air into his lungs. "Any last words?" “Look where we're at!" He coughed out. Lethe’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ and took in their surroundings. Unless she had set up permanent residence outside of the palace kitchens, then this was not her bedroom. Her eyes went very wide. Then her cheeks went very red. She dropped Hoplite. “So...” she began slowly, “nothing happened? We didn’t-” “No!” Hoplite rasped out, heaving on the floor. His mind tried futilely to keep the ceiling from spinning. “No, nothing happened! For the princess’ sake, we’re still on duty!” Expressions raced across her face almost too quickly to interpret. Dismay, joy, shame, relief... then straight back to fury. “Then why the buck did you wake me up?!” Lethe asked angrily. She cuffed her friend upside his head with her hoof, knocking his helmet askew and sending him falling to the floor again. Once again, as Hoplite groaned and clutched his head, he came to the realization that there were no gods. None other than Luna and Celestia, anyhow. If he wasn’t worried about losing his job, he would have cursed their names for making insane mares. "Princess Celestia... up to something," he muttered, as he pulled off his helmet. He gingerly poked the bump that was already forming. "Just check... the hallway." "Oh. Well why didn't you say so?" Lethe trotted off with a small huff, her nose in the air, leaving Hoplite to pick himself up. There was a heartbeat of silence of silence as she poked her head around the corner of the hall. Then Lethe turned back to him. “Are either of the princesses now running palace tours for the elderly?” Lethe called from down the hall. A confused expression crossed Hoplites face. What the heck was Lethe talking about. “Um, no. I don’t think so.” “Ah,” Lethe said. She peeked down the hall again. “Then I think we have a problem.” ****** Canterlot Palace Interior The castle was in pandemonium. That was not to say it was an average day. On average days, the castle was in chaos. This was pandemonium. Ranked somewhere above 'The princess is going through her pyro phase again' madness' but still well below the ever-feared 'Discord discord'. The castle was under attack, and thus, pandemonium ruled the staff. The normally vigilant members of the Day Guard were nowhere to be found, and the invaders had invaded with practically no resistance. Within the span of a few hours, the hallways outside of the palace kitchens had turned into bustling army camp. Khaki colored tents fought for the limited space alongside rusted supply crates and outdated communication equipment. A whole matter of military paraphernalia had been tacked to the windows and marble walls. The flag of the royal sisters had even been strung up on a makeshift flagpole, hanging proudly above the whole encampment. Everywhere Celestia went there was the elderly. Elderly stallions hobbled about touting an armory's worth of comical armaments on their person. Some carried sandbags for fortifications, or loaded pillows into giant rubber bands that were aimed at the surrounding hallways to dissuade the curious palace staff. But no matter what, when Princess Celestia passed them, each and every one of them paused in what they were doing and bowed to her. And why should they not? Dressed in a plating of glowing red gold that emanated the death of winter, Princess Celestia, Harbinger of the Eternal Flame, once again walked the field of battle in all of her terrible glory. Sheets of rippling orange fire that would devour all it came into contact with extended from her helmet and backside, serving as a mane and tail. Her eyes, white and hot, burned from the depths of her golden visor and stared with satisfaction upon the preparations that had been made as she strode through the war camp. It was more than the princess could have hoped for, given the short notice she had given these ponies. At long last she located the large tent that served as a command post. The commander she was looking for, a weathered grey pegasus who barked orders at his passing comrades, acknowledged her approach with a salute. "Thank you," Celestia whispered fondly to the general, "Thank you for coming. Thank you for everything." MacApple gave a good natured 'harumph' and pressed a hoof against his rusted breastplate. "I told you once before, your highness: old soldiers never die, they merely wait." A dry smile tugged at the pegasi's lips. Well now we're back, and at your beck and call. And might I say, you look smashing!" "So you like it?" the goddess asked shyly, as she turned to display her armor. "How do I look?" "Like victory!" one pony shouted from where he was setting up another tent. There was a ripple of light-hearted chuckles, and a stamp of hooves for approval. "Just like I remember, all those years ago. A true warrior." MacApple agreed. "But eh... might I ask... how did you repair the blasted thing?" "Duct tape," Princess Celestia said proudly displaying the strips of grey that crisscrossed the armor, holding it together. The stallion on MacApple's left, a light blue unicorn in a wheelchair, nodded with sage-like approval. "Improvisation with what you've got in the heat of a crisis. Glad to see you still haven't lost the touch marm." To the surprise of everybody present, the unicorn rose from his chair, standing tall and proud, and saluted her. "I think its safe to say, on behalf of everypony, that it is wonderful to be back on the front, your highness." Celestia blinked in surprise. “Colonel Thunder Smith? I thought you had been confined to a wheelchair?” “Wheelchair? What a preposterous notion!” the unicorn none to discreetly bucked the chair down the hallway. MacApple gave a pleased smirk and turned back to the chalkboard that had been set up in the impromptu command post. “Looks like a walk in the park, your majesty. Only one hallway in or out, and we have both ends of the hallway secured. No chance of anypony reinforcing the kitchens on our watch. We're ready to mobilize on your orders." One of the veterans frowned as he stared at the map. “Doesn’t this seem a bit overkill for just a snack? Why can’t her highness just teleport into the kitchens?” General MacApple looked to be on the verge of exploding. “How dare you question her highness’s judgment! She has called upon us in good faith for our assistance in her time of need!” A touch of Celestia’s wing silence the fuming general. “Its alright, general. It’s a good question.” “The answer is quite simple. Centuries ago, when the palace as we know it today was still being built, I commissioned the mages of the Arcana Council to craft wards into the very foundations of the kitchens itself. Part of my reasoning was to protect the castle’s food supply from any and all threat if Canterlot ever found itself under siege. The other reason…” Here Celestia winced at the brutal truth, “…was to prevent exactly what you just suggested. The spells are woven so tightly, layer upon layer, that not even an alicorn’s magic can circumvent them.” Celestia gave a rueful smile. The more she looked at the map, the more she was sincerely wishing she had paid those mages a little less. “A little something that the nobles wanted implemented after my sister’s incident. It is impossible for her, or me for that matter, to get through those walls by magical or physical means, leaving those doors as the only entrance. And they, in turn, are enchanted to resist my touch, meaning that they can only be opened by mortal hooves.” In the ever glaring hindsight of the present, that too had been a stupid idea. That made it all the harder to skimp out on her diet. At the very least, she should have included a secret entrance to the kitchens. Preferably connecting the pantry to her bedroom. “Which is where we come in.” MacApple answered, as he removed his monocle, turning to face the old-timers who had gathered around them. “Our mission, boys, is to get Princess Celestia through those doors anyway and every way we know how. Resistance is expected to be negligible, but if those cooks resist, we give them one-four. Any questions?” An earthpony in the back raised his hand. “Yes, Waddles?” “Will grenades be permitted?” Celestia and MacApple shared a look. “By grenades do you mean...?” Celestia trailed off hesitantly, not sure if she was hearing the pony right. The stallion smacked his gums. “Sonic grenades, mum. As mentioned in the Good Book of Office Armaments, chapter 42, verses 13 through 37. ‘And Saint Haybale raised his hoof-' ” “Yes, yes.” Celestia resisted the urge to facehoof. “All manner of nonlethal combat will be permitted. Joy buzzers are permitted for anypony without a pacemaker.” The last thing she needed was for anypony to get hurt in this little endeavour. She would never hear the end of it from the health insurance companies. Oh. And Feather Duster. Feather Duster would probably have a few choice words for her after this was all said and done. By then, though, Celestia hoped to have emptied the palace fridge. That was a problem for future-Celestia to deal with. “I will understand if any of you wish to back out and return home. I know this goes against everything you all swore when you joined the army, so I will understand if you do not go against your word.” Celestia said. She would not fault these stallions if they chose to leave now. “Well then, it’s a good thing we’re retired, isn’t it, princess?” MacApple said gruffly. “I think its safe to say those oaths have reached their expiration date, wouldn’t you?” Celestia gave the general a warm smile. "Very well then. The only way in is past those two guards." “Then our best bet is a full frontal assault at the doors,” the general said. He plucked one of his feathers out with his teeth and embedded it into the map where the kitchens were. “Throw every stallion and everything we got at those doors and don’t stop till they’re open. We'll be in and out before afternoon tea.” MacApple nodded in satisfaction and turned to Thunder Smith. “What do you think, Colonel?” The elderly tactician gazed over the map in silence for a few more moments. Then with a sigh, he pushed his spectacles back up his nose. “Permission to speak openly, general?” “Permission granted.” “It’s a stupid plan,” Thunder Smith stated bluntly. “It’s stupid, and suicidal, and the chances of it succeeding are slim to none.” MacApple gave a curt nod. “Duly noted. Is there anything else you’d like to add?” “Yes, you old glue stick. I’m annoyed that I didn’t think of this plan first!” The general clapped his hooves together, snapping the pointer shut. “It’s settled then, your majesty.” MacApple then turned to the gathered veterans. They had come for one purpose, and as Celestia as his witness, he would see it fulfilled. “Who’s feeling hungry, boys?” ***** The Royal Kitchens At the moment, Copper Kettle was bust trying to keep calm amongst the cooks. He wasn't having a lot of luck. "That's my grandpappie out there!" "Why do we not have an alarm for this! We have one for everything else?!" "Aoooga! Aoooga!" "We could be here for days! Weeks!" a cook by the name of Snap Freeze grabbed Copper Kettle by his uniform and shook him violently. "I can't do it man! The walls are starting to close in! We're going to starve here and nopony is going to find our bones! We're gonna-" There was a sudden CLANG and Snap Freeze's eyes rolled to the back of his head. He crumpled to the floor out cold. Behind, was a scowling sheep with an oversized frying pan held in his mouth. Chef Ram Sea gave the unconscious cook an appalled look. “Only 'at one could possibly be stupid enough to starve to death in a kitchen.” "Thanks for that, Chef," said Copper Kettle with a breath of relief. Chef Ram Sea merely gave a snort and dumped the frying pan on him. The sheep turned and navigated his way over to where Hoplite sat on a food trolley, pressing a bag of ice over the bump that had formed there since his arrival. Lethe fluttered nearby, wrapping a roll of white bandages around his head. Ram Sea was not pleased. Minutes ago, this pair of guards had come bursting into his kitchens, spouting some nonsense about the princess going crazy and an army waiting outside the kitchen. As expected, the kitchen staff reacted in a myriad of different reactions. The casualties were severe. A broccoli frittata, ignored on the stove, was blackened beyond all recognition and a baked risotto was now dried out. Even more horrible, a Shepard's pie ordered for dinner by a visiting ambassador, something that the chef himself had personally been slaving away on since early that morning, had been neglected in making it into the oven on time. It would never be ready by dinner. It was an unforgiveable travesty, one of which broke his heart. "Where in th' name of Celestia's sacred Playcolt are the rest ay ye guards?" Ram Sea asked gruffly to Lethe and Hoplite. "You're supposed tae be th' ones takin' care of this stuff like this." "Currently in dispose," muttered Hoplite as Lethe finished tying the bandage. "Thanks to the princess pulling some strings, Lethe and I are the only active guards on duty." "In the next ten minutes, you're going to have over a hundred social security collectors come charging through those doors, with Princess Celestia leading them." Lethe added gravely. There was no mirth in his eyes or voice. Before, the princess' attempts to gain access had been nothing comical. Now Celestia was proving she meant buisiness. “Like hell she will.” Ram Sea muttered angrily as he climbed onto the food trolley. He glared down at chefs gathered before him. "Now all ay ye useless sacks ay yankee dankee noodle bleedin' idiots, SHUT UP!" His voice boomed throughout the kitchens, all chatter immediately froze. "Alright 'en. Now Ah don't need tae tell any of ye what's waitin' for us outside of those doors. As ye all know, th' guard won't be coming faer us onytime soon..." A whole kitchen full of eyes turned on the only two pegasi in armor there. Lethe waved back with a smile. "...so we'll have tae bail ourselves out of this mess. Ah know some ay ye are probably scared, quakin' in yer hooves. But Ah'ma gonna tae make one thin' perfectly clear: I'll be damned tae th' lowest bleedin' pits ay Tartarus afair Ah lit some flea bitten bampots intae mah sparklin' clean kitchens!" "But Head Chef, we're not soldiers. We don't know how to fight!" Soggy Grounds said. "Can ye all cook?" Ram Sea asked, narrowing his eyes. There was a unanimous 'yes' from the gathered cooks. " 'en ye can fight. Simple as 'at. Now what do we have for weapons? Silver Whisk, first thin' 'at comes to mind?" "We just finished a batch of apple pies ordered for the Wonderbolts, but they're easy enough to make again." Silver Whisk offered, gesturing to where a line of golden pies sat cooling on the counter. "I've never known anypony to get back up after being hit in the face with one of those." "Apple pies, eh?" Ram Sea rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Those sound perfect!" Copper Kettle smiled brightly. "Thank you, Head Chef. Glad to be of help." The sheep nodded, keeping his eyes keenly fixed on the cook. "Aye, those would be pefect... if we were surrenderin'!" Silver Whisk jumped back from the gunshot of Ram Sea's voice. "Pastries? Pies? Git somethin' in yer bawfaced mind an' make sure it sticks there; that's exactly what th' princess wants from us. She wants th' food in this kitchen and ye intend tae jist chuck it at 'er? Dae ye have it in min' tae tie some napkins on a stick and wave it aboot to make it official for us 'en?" "N-no Head Chef, I never intended... My apologies Head Chef!" Whisk stammered, fearfully pressing his white hat to his chest. "Ah've known wee bairn lambs with more common sense atween their fluffy ears. Don't apologize! Think!" urged Ram Sea. He paced back and forth in front of his staff. "Whit else dae we have toae chuck at 'em?" An orange mare in the back raised her hoof. "Go on 'en, Pumpkin Spice, call it out!" "Whisk wasn't half off, chef." she said quickly. To her immense relief, the sheep was did not immediately explode on her, giving her his silent permission to continue. "We have a lot of pie tins in the storage closets. If we whipped up some cream and plopped it into the tins, we could use those pies as ammo." Ram Sea nodded, and stepped down from the trolley. "That's more like it. Use skim-milk only, nae a cube of sugar in it. Make them as bland an' as tasteless as ye possibly can. Brin' out th' crates of lemons while ye're in th' pantry." He looked around at the ponies who still clung to his every word. "Well what are ye waiting for? Arm yersefs!" he barked. The cooks scattered like ants, tripping over each other in their hurry to be the last one standing in the chef's presence. Copper made his way to join the other cooks in making the pies, but a cloven hoof stopped him in his tracks. "Och, no ye dont, laddie. Ah have a special task for ye." Ram Sea said as he looked at the racks above the kitchen workspaces. A whole manner of cooking utensils were carefully stacked and hung. Pots and pans, ladles, rolling pins, a whole selection of culinary knives. They were all too small for his liking."Go'n git me a swordfish." The orange stallion blinked in surprise."But chef, we only have one and that's suppose to be dinner for the Griffhalan ambassador tonight!" Ram Sea scowled angrily and picked up a rather sharp carving knife in his mouth. "Ah'll make somethin' else for th' featherbrain. Jist git me th' fish before Ah decide tae swin' ye instead" Copper Kettle gulped and scurried off to the pantry, lest the cook changed his mind. Chef Ram Sea solemnly took off his iconic hat and rung it in his hooves. He glanced at the unexpected asset that had been dropped in his hooves: the two guards. "Where is Princess Luna at?" he asked, still speaking around the knife. "She's currently out of the palace at the Haunches Gym." Lethe answered promptly. Ram Sea nodded. "Which one ay ye is th' faster flier." "I'm more maneuverable, but Hop here is the fastest in guard." Hoplite blushed modestly. "I'm not really that good." "Shut up, Hop." "Yes ma'am." "Listen now! We don't hae time for this. Ah need a body, one ay ye, tae fly as fest as ye possibly can. She's th' only one who can gang toe tae toe wi' 'er sister in a real scrap. Git 'er here on th' dooble, an' I'll make ye as much cheesecake as ye can eat!" The next thing that Hoplite knew, Lethe was picking him up and punting him out of the kitchen doors. "Fly, you magnificent beast, you! Fly!" Hoplite sighed and with a few steady flaps of his wings, took to the air, and shot threw the hallway and past the military camp. Ram Sea felt a large weight lift itself from his chest with the knowledge that hope would becoming. He turned to see Copper Kettle struggling to hold a swordfish that was nearly twice his size. "Hurry up, lad. Git a firmer grip on 'at thin', We huvnae got all day!" "But its cold and dead and just... uughhh," Copper gave an involuntary shudder as the clamy flesh flopped against his skin. "Graw a backbain, laddie. Yer skin's as thick as mah grandmother's handkerchief. Give it here!" Ram Sea ordered as he pulled the fish from Copper Kettle's hooves. He hefted the swordfish, testing the weight of it. It would do nicely. With a satisfied smirk, he effortlessly tossed the fish onto his back. "Jist ye wait, we'll pit some wool on yer chest yet. After this, Ah'll teach ye mah auld family's recipe for makin' haggis." Copper paled considerably. "I'm going to go get those lemons like you asked, chef. Oh, Whisk! Here, let me help you with that!" he called as he dashed off. "An' somepony git me a jar ay blueberry syrup!" the chef thundered to the scurrying cooks. He climbed onto the food trolley, staring out over his domain. Head Chef Ram Sea tested the point on his swordfish, his beady black eyes flashing dangerously. "Insult mah milkshake, will she? That mare is going tae learn that there can only be one tae rule these kitchens, and it isn't 'er." As the stallions and mares rushed about, preparing the kitchens for the inevitable onslaught, the sheep was sure of one thing. Vengeance was coming... ...and it would be wooly.