//------------------------------// // XXIII: The Worth of Souls // Story: The Stranger and Her Friend // by TheUrbanMoose //------------------------------// It was amazing, the amount of sound a grandfather clock could make. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Celestia supposed she should have been more amazed by the fact that a grandfather clock was even here, in the wreckage of Trotterdam. Everypony else certainly was. Such things were rare to begin with; to see a pony-made device of such intricacy in a small town like this was even rarer. And yet, there they found it, standing proudly unscathed in the two-story building they just so happened to establish as their temporary headquarters. This particular building, which might have once been the home of a relatively wealthy pony, had been mostly exempt from the chaos of battles past, but even it bore some residual damage. It was surprising, then, that this tall, lean, easily toppled clock, with an exterior of strong oak but an interior of delicate gears and metalwork, was still tick-tocking away when the battalion scouts had discovered it. To some, it had been a minor symbol of hope – nothing major, but as a “hey, did you hear?” type of story, it was perfect. At the moment, Celestia almost wished it had been destroyed. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Lucky Break rested on his haunches opposite of Celestia. Between them was a desk. Both had long since divested themselves of their armor – Lucky was now wearing his red commander’s jacket – and both were relatively clean. Celestia felt a strand of pink hair drift away from her mane and fall in front of her eye. In the smallest motion she could manage, she brought her hoof up and brushed it aside, and did no more than that. Standing at attention, she dared not move more than was necessary. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Beside and a small ways behind Celestia stood Cotton, almost mirroring the position of Crumble, who stood at Lucky’s side. In the context of this meeting, however, they were only watching from the sidelines, and they knew it. Between the icy blue eyes of their commander and the bright pink of the recruit, there was a mutual stare that was palpably intense. Celestia could only look into that familiar hard scowl and put up her best apathetic defense, which was failing by the second. Sure, it might have been familiar; but this particular expression had a sort of edge to it that was… disappointed, Celestia decided. The fact that it made her feel inexplicably guilty was even more disconcerting. The presence of an enemy sinisteed lurking in the corner might not have been more uncomfortable. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Cotton sneezed – it was delicate, as usual, but it nearly made Celestia jump out of her skin. In the corner of her eye, she saw Cotton look around, wait for someone to pardon her, and then frown when nopony did. “You fool.” Lucky Break finally said. It was almost as soft as Cotton’s sneeze, but Celestia jumped just the same. “You damned fool.” “Bless me,” Cotton whispered. Everypony ignored her. “Do you realize what you just did?” Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Celestia was not sure if she was supposed to say anything. After a long moment of silence, she decided she should. “I… killed a hydra?” she softly spoke. After a moment of thought, she added, “Sir?” The grimace on Lucky’s face seemed to become more of a snarl, and his eyes lit up with anger. “Celestia!” It was not a shout, but it did not have to be. “You nearly died! You impersonated a member of a battalion to which you did not belong, you disobeyed a direct order, assaulted a higher-ranking officer, and you nearly died!” Celestia cringed at the tone and volume of his voice. Suddenly, the annoying persistence of the grandfather clock did not seem so bad. “But I didn’t,” Celestia heard herself murmur. She instantly regretted it. “Oh?” Lucky sat up a little straighter. “Well maybe you should have, and rid us of your stupidity. The Maiden’s Soldiers are many things, Celestia, and disobedient is not one of them. Neither is unintelligent, I might add.” A spark of indignation lit in Celestia’s eyes, and she leaned in a little further. “But I’m fine!” “You’re fine?” Lucky rolled his head away and back, incredulously searching for the words. “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t care if you’re fine. I care about what might have happened! Me, and everypony else. What if you had gotten hurt? What if you had died? What then?” He paused, but not for long. “I’ll tell you what then. Equestria’s just lost yet another one of our already few advantages. Our secret weapon, gone in an instant!” He stomped his hoof down onto the floor. The contents of the table rattled in place. “Just like that! Because as it turns out, our ‘secret weapon’ has the romantic notions of a child. Not to mention the mind of one.” “I’m not a-” “I know you’re new to this, Celestia. Everypony starts green and that’s okay. But for goodness sake, show some respect. Going and risking your life for, what... the glory of it? You might as well spit on the graves of the dead, and in the faces of the living.” “I don’t-” “Equestria has come too far and fought too hard to be taking chances; chances, especially, that we cannot afford. If you feel like you have to sacrifice yourself, Celestia, then you-” Lucky stopped, sounding as though something had caught in his throat. He looked down briefly, coughed, and looked back up. When he spoke again, his voice was just a little quieter, though no less impassioned. “Then I would thank you to make sure it’s worth it.” The room fell silent once more. Celestia tried to think of all the arguments she could, something to defend her actions, and though more than one came to mind, none of them seemed appropriate at the moment. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. “And you. Cotton Cake.” Cotton, distractedly watching the swinging pendulum of the grandfather clock, looked back at the mention of her name. “Me?” “You were supposed to prevent this exact thing from happening. I told you to watch her.” “I tried! Celly’s just too sneaky!” She let out a small whimper. “Ohhh, I trained her too well…” Lucky rolled his eyes. He happened to know Celestia was anything but ‘sneaky’. Skilled, maybe, and smart for all her foolishness – but stealthy? No. “You told her to ‘watch’ me?” Celestia suddenly said, having finally drawn up not only a semblance of greater composure, but a disregard for Commander Break’s position. “What am I, a foal?” “Apparently,” Lucky said with contempt. “You ran off anyways, didn’t you?” Celestia ignored it. “Everypony knows about your gift. You told me about it yourself. You must have known I was going to survive.” Lucky’s eyes rekindled with sudden anger, and his expression of scorn became a fierce grimace. He leaned forward. “No, I didn’t know. And I don’t know if its arrogance or idiocy that makes you think you can just assume that.” He leaned back. “I might have thought you would survive – and even then, it was only because I was there. And sometimes, I make mistakes. Sometimes, I-” He paused, gave a quick, frustrated sigh, and shook his head. “I can’t always do everything perfect. Even if I could, there was no way you could have known. Regardless of the outcome, what you did was stupid, Celestia.” Celestia broke her gaze on Lucky, looking back and forth in distress. “But- but I…” She looked back at him. “If I hadn’t been there, Lightning Sky would have died!” “Don’t change the subject. This discussion is about nothing but your disobedience.” “But it’s true, isn’t it?” Celestia protested, her tone a curious mix between anger and what almost sounded like pleading. “Who are you to value my life above his?” Lucky suddenly stood up, drawing himself to his full height. “That was never in question! When you came rushing to the battle, did you say to yourself, ‘I need to save somepony’s life!’ No, of course you didn’t! You had no idea!” Celestia took a step back, the least bit intimidated. “I just wanted to help my friends,” she said defensively. “And I did.” “You speak about the value of life like you know what it means. You don’t. You can’t. Not until you’ve been forced to evaluate a pony’s true worth. Come back after you’ve experienced a lifetime of war. Come back after you’ve had two casualties lying before you, and you can only save one; and after you’ve looked into both of their eyes, realized they both have hopes, fears, dreams, lives, souls… and then realized that none of that matters in the end, simply because its prudent take the one with a higher chance of survival. Do all that, do it a hundred-thousand times, and then come back, and we can discuss the value of life.” “What about your own life?” Celestia countered. “Do you place it above another’s? You know so much above value, then what about Lightning? Or Crumble? Or Cotton? Or me? Or the ponies back home, your loved ones? Who has the most ‘worth’, huh?” The room went quiet, and Celestia immediately knew that she had said something wrong. She looked around. Crumble’s bushy brows were suddenly raised in concern, and his lips beneath his beard were pursed. Cotton, who was still staring at the grandfather clock, bit the edge of her lip and gazed just a little farther away. She looked back to Lucky. He had sat down again, and was looking at the desk in front of him. “Yes,” he said. After a long pause, he looked back up and continued. “Yes, I do place my own life above Lieutenant Sky’s, and many more besides. And do you know what I place even higher? Victory. The winning of this war and the harmony of our nation.” “So you would let him die.” “Yes!” Lucky said firmly. “Yes, I would let him die. War is not easy, and neither is it painless. Lightning Sky has long since come to terms with the notion and meaning of ‘sacrifice’. I suggest you do the same.” Celestia looked down and away. “I’m not the only one,” she murmured under her breath. Lucky scowled. He heard that. “Who is more capable, hm? Me, or him? Who is more important to the war effort? I have nearly a decade of leadership experience. In combat, no singular pony can best me, in this battalion or otherwise. Lightning is a capable and passionate soldier – if he weren’t, he wouldn’t be in the 21st at all. But between us, I am the more vital. I don’t pretend to like it. A commander makes choices, and sometimes, you have to choose between the lesser of two evils. That’s how war works, that’s how the world works, and I would thank you not to label me as evil simply because I understand it. If I felt it was for the good of Equestria, I would let you die too.” Celestia was not sure if she was shocked or not. Her body, which had been going numb by degrees during the entirety of this conversation, told her she was – but her mind simply acknowledged the fact with a large degree of cynicism. “You wouldn’t know the meaning of sacrifice if it came up and bit you on the flank, Private.” Lucky sat up and straightened his red commander’s jacket. “Next time, consider the fact that there might be ponies who are wiser than you, and that maybe their decisions were for a reason. The disparity between my experience and yours is considerably large. For the sake of Equestria and its citizens, I would ask you respect that.” Lucky sighed. It seemed to be a breath of release, as though he had just expended the last of his emotional energy and could put up no more argument. Not that Celestia saw it as an opportunity to fight back, as it were – at this point, Lucky would simply dismiss her and probably punish her as well, considering the extreme disrespect she had been showing. Besides, she was tired as well, and more unexpectedly, she found herself grudgingly agreeing with him. Celestia was reasonable. Months of being on the bad end of scorn had made her that way. She could put herself in another’s horseshoes, capable of thinking about why they said what they said. In another’s perspective, the things they spoke usually made sense; and often, they were true. In this case, she simply did not want it to be true. After a period of silence in which a mental war raged in Celestia’s head, Lucky again spoke. His words, she was not prepared for. “Which company would you like to join?” Celestia blinked, coming back to reality. She scowled. Did she hear him right? Was this some kind of trick? “Sir?” His voice had taken on an almost mechanical quality, with very little emotion attached to what he was saying. “Regardless of your severe disobedience, you performed... admirably. Your punishment – which will be severe – must still be served. But, after counseling with…” He paused, and cleared his throat. “After counseling with some others, it occurs to me that the best and fastest way for you to grow is through experience. For now, I will allow you to fight.” “I… thank you, sir.” It was almost phrased as a question. She still felt oddly suspicious. He merely nodded. “Normally, we simply assign ponies a company, platoon, and section, but seeing as these are unique circumstances, I’ve decided to let you choose where you think you’ll best fit. So, which shall it be?” After Celestia overcame her suspicion, and after some thought, she chose her own placement. 3rd Company, 3rd Platoon, 6th Section, under the greater command of Lieutenant Lightning Sky, and the direct command of Lance Corporal Allez. Cotton looked none too pleased about it all. ********** Side by side, Crumble led Celestia through the war-torn city of Trotterdam, which was now swarming with battalion ponies who were all working to set up their encampment. The place was alive with activity and buzzing with the noises of industry. “Is Lucky a better fighter than you, Crumble?” It was only fifteen minutes later from Celestia’s chat with Lucky, and she was still trying to process it all. She did not know why this particular question came to her mind, only that somehow, it was relevant. So she asked, even though she already suspected what the answer would be. Crumble guffawed, startling some of the nearby ponies into dropping a wooden pole vital to the pavilion they had been trying to set up. The whole thing collapsed on top of them. “Aye, sunshine,” he said, still in the midst of a mighty chuckle. “That he is.” Celestia frowned. Lucky’s audacious claim of literally being the best seemed less and less like a boast the more she saw him in action. Crumble’s reaction only served it further. “Is he… a better commander?” Crumble’s laughter was still dying down. “Heh, eh-heh… yeh mean a better leader? I’m not a commander.” Celestia nodded. “Yeah, sure.” Crumble let his smile fade and considered it for a moment. “Maybe,” he said, his hoof tapping at his beard. “But not by leaps an’ bounds. In any case, he might lack the flair of the old Commander Daylight, but he’s more than qualified fer the job. He knows what he’s doin’.” A small grin appeared on his face. “Now name-callin’, that’s his true talent.” Celestia grumbled. That was not what she wanted to hear. “Oh, quit yer moanin’ and groanin’, sunshine,” Crumble chided. “He does what he does, an’ there ain’t a whole lot yeh can do about that. ‘Sides, you’ll be needin’ that frustration in just a few minutes now.” “Is he better at-” “What?” Crumble interrupted. “Knitting? Poetry? Bein’ better at war don’t make him a better pony, Celestia. Ain’t yeh ever heard the unification story of the tribes? Our differences make us strong. If it’s buggin’ yeh so much, quit thinkin’ about it.” Her gaze dropped to the ground. It was not bugging her, per se, she just hated the way he was so… so sure about it. So detached. She would not want to be squadmates with him at all, the good of Equestria aside. She sighed. “How did we miss an entire hydra anyways?” she said with some frustration. “I know nopony was warned or prepared for it. Who the hay ran reconnaissance? Because they sure need to get some-” “I did.” Celestia blinked. She looked at Crumble, who impassively stared ahead. “You did... what?” Celestia asked. “I ran recon over Trotterdam,” Crumble said simply. He looked at her. “Yeh got somethin’ to say?” His tone was not threatening, nor was his intention or meaning, but Celestia suddenly felt very small. “Uh, no...?” she muttered, shrinking away from his gaze. “Yeh look surprised,” he said gruffly. “Do I?” Celestia looked all around, at anywhere but him. “I guess I just... I didn’t expect... I mean, you don’t...” She looked him over. His bulky frame and muscle-bound limbs seemed bigger and more intimidating than ever. She would have expected a faster, younger, more agile pegasus would be leading reconnaissance, not the old and grey Apple Crumble, strong as he appeared to be. You don’t look the type. At all. “I just didn’t expect you would be doing it. What with you being Lieutenant-Commander and all. Aren’t there ponies to do that for you?” Wouldn’t your shiny red coat be spotted the moment you took off? “I know I don’t look the type,” Crumble said, reading Celestia’s mind. She blushed. “Don’t you worry ‘bout it, sunshine. Me an’ Lucky have already discussed the hydra situation.” He added after a moment, “And I’m better at it than yeh might think.” Celestia timidly nodded, and let the matter drop. They continued walking through the city for another minute, the activity around them dimming as they moved further away from the center. “Ah!” Crumble suddenly said, thrusting his left wing out in front of Celestia to stop her. “Here we are.” Celestia looked up. They had arrived on the eastern edge of town. Before them was nothing but an empty field of grass. Celestia raised an eyebrow. “As punishment fer yer disobedience,” Crumble said, adding a small bit of royal flair to his tone, “yeh’ve been hereby assigned with latrine duty.” Celestia tilted her head, her pink mane falling to one side. “Latrine duty?” Crumble nodded. “Yeh look confused. Yeh know what a latrine is, right? The bathroom. The restroom. The washroom. The lavatory, the litter box, the potty, the pot, the john, the loo, the porcelain throne-” “I know what a latrine is!” Celestia exclaimed. “There’s nothing here.” Crumble chuckled deep in his throat. “Heheh. Not yet, sunshine.” Celestia looked down as a shovel was thrust against her chest and into her arms. She swallowed, and looked helplessly back at Crumble. “Don’ worry,” he said. “I’m sure yeh’ll get plenty good at it over the next couple o’ months.” ********** Somepony had finally found a stool for him to use at his desk. Lucky lazily rested his cheek on one hoof. With the other hoof, he tapped on his desk with the dry point of a quill, keeping in time with the grandfather clock. He was amazed at how loud it could be. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. “I disapprove.” Lucky shrugged. “I know.” Clover the Clever kept still, standing with the graceful poise that only an aged pony could. Her expression, though, belied emotions far more concerned. “I saw her eyes after the battle.” “I saw them too.” “And you’re still going to let her fight?” He paused for a moment. “This isn’t the first time it's happened.” “That is a poor reason.” Lucky stopped tapping the quill and raised his head. “Do I have a choice? This is coming from the hierarchy itself. I can’t just disobey them.” Clover tilted her head. “Not even for her sake? You’re no subordinate, Lucky Break. You’ve disobeyed orders for others’ sakes before.” He scowled, but otherwise did not react. “She’ll be fine. Besides, it’s what she wants.” “An invalid point. Of course it is what she wants, Lucky Break. What a pony wants and what is best for her is not always the same thing.” “Says the pony that talked her into this?” “I did not ‘talk her into this’. She chose.” “Ah ah ah,” Lucky chided, shaking his head. “That’s an invalid point, isn’t it? I know what happened.” Clover frowned. “It was unintentional. This, however, is quite the opposite.” Lucky shrugged, sighed, and went back to tapping at his desk. “Well, what do you want me to do? Somehow, word reached the royals about our little ‘incident’, and now they want more of the same. They want results. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t as well.” “You know the risks?” “Yes.” Clover stood there for a long time. “Then godspeed, Lucky Break, and may the Pantheon watch over you. And you yourself keep a watchful eye. She will need it for the days ahead.” There was a tiny snap. The tip of the quill in Lucky’s hoof broke. He looked at it, shrugged, and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket. “I ask you do the same, Master Clover. You are the expert after all.” Clover took a few steps back, a sad smile on her face. “Hardly.” With a light snap and a flash of purple sparks that made the papers on Lucky’s desk flutter away, she vanished.