//------------------------------// // Chapter 7: Interlude // Story: Skyfall // by Dusk Quill //------------------------------// The train rolled on through the night, charging through the desert. The nighttime was dark without the city lights, stars blanketing the sky. Most of the train was quiet and dark, many passengers lost to slumber. One lone pony sat in the lounge car, seated at the bar as he stared out the nearest window. A half empty glass of cider sat in front of him.         The sound of the train rolling along the tracks filled the car, the rhythmic white noise the only thing breaking the still silence of the night. Fleethoof’s eyes glistened in the moonlight and the dim candlelight in the train car. He took another slow sip from his glass. His mind swam with thoughts and memories.         Distant explosions and long-past gunshots rang in his ears. The screams of dying ponies still echoed in his subconscious. The war was long over, but for the captain, it would never be over. Night Shade brought up old memories and reopened old wounds. He hated it, but he sympathized with the madpony. He had seen his friends dead or dying. He’d held the body of his best friend in his hooves. He had closed his eyes for the last time. He knew all too well the trauma loss left somepony with.         The door to the car opened and closed. Fleethoof didn’t look away from the stars. He sat still, gently swirling his drink in its glass. The barstool beside him moved as somepony sat down beside him. He glanced into the mirror behind the bar, and recognized the pony next to him.         “Good evening, Valiant.”         “Evening, Captain,” Valiant replied, beckoning the bartender over.         “Please, Valiant. We’re friends. You don’t have to call me ‘Captain’ all the time.”         “But you are the leader of our unit,” he pointed out, watching the bartender pour a glass of cider for him.         “We’re all equals on this team.”         “But you’ve earned your title.”         Fleethoof couldn’t argue that. He tried his best to be humble, but even he couldn’t take that with any humility. He had worked hard to just come back alive from the war. The rank that came along with his accomplishments was just a testimony to his talents.         “What are you still doing up, Valiant?” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s two in the morning.”         “I came to ask you the same thing, Captain.”         “Fleethoof,” he insisted gently.         “Captain,” the other pony insisted back. He folded.         Fleethoof was silent for a while, pondering his situation. “I’m still not used to sleeping yet.”         “You haven’t been sleeping?” asked Valiant, leaning closer, brow furrowed in concern.         “Never more than a couple hours at a time.” Fleethoof downed the last of his cider, setting the glass on the bar with a hard clink and pushing it aside.         “How long has this been going on?”         “Since the war ended… Sleep and I no longer seem to be on speaking terms… heh…”         A brief moment of silence passed between the two ponies. Fleethoof looked across the bar at his own reflection—at the tired, pensive pony in the glass—and then turned his gaze back to the celestial heavens.         “It’s strange… but looking out at the stars always makes me feel better…” said Fleethoof softly, musing over his own thoughts. “It makes me feel at peace… like nothing else matters. It’s quiet, and sobering. I like the night.”         “Isn’t there anything that can help you rest, Captain?”         Valiant’s questions started the slideshow of memories in the pony's head. Memories of the last time he had slept peacefully. It was the night after his ceremony. The war had ended, and he had spent the evening coming back to reality. Cadance had visited him and his friends at a small café. It was therapeutic to be around his loved ones. He’d slept like a rock that night.         Every other night since was plagued by guilty nightmares and horrific images of combat. Every night since…         “Captain?”         Fleethoof snapped back into reality. He glanced over at his teammate and friend. A reassuring smile touched his face.         “I’m fine, Valiant—really. I’m used to it by now.”         “But it isn’t healthy. Isn’t there anything that helps you sleep? Any good dreams you can go to?”         Visions flashed before his eyes. Standing beside Shining Armor in front of Celestia, medals hanging from their necks. Embracing Valiant as they left the Griffon Kingdom for the last time. Training with his team in the obstacle course. His family’s tears staining his jacket as they hugged him proudly when he returned.         Sitting beside Cadance on the train. Sharing drinks at the local coffeeshops. Standing out on the terrace under the full moon. Facing off on the boat when they first met. Feeling her embrace as they parted from their last encounter.         “Promise me you’ll be okay.”         “There are plenty,” Fleethoof remarked, smiling fondly at the memories. “Some more potent than others…”         Valiant studied the distant look on his commanding officer’s face. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”         “Of course, always. We’re not a strict army unit, Valiant. You don’t need my permission to speak your mind. You’re a free pony.”         “Well… why were you so eager to protect Princess Cadance?”         For the second time that night, Valiant had taken him aback with his interrogatives. The pony was much more perceptive than he gave him credit for. “She’s a friend, Valiant. You know that. You were part of the rescue effort,” he replied.         “No, I mean, you were willing to just abandon the hunt for Night Shade entirely to rush to her rescue when we didn’t even know if she was in trouble. You didn’t put up any kind of fight—you didn’t even argue.” Valiant had him there. “It’s not like you to cut and run from the mission like that. Why does the princess make that much of a difference?”         Fleethoof didn’t respond right away. “I was just following orders.”         “She’s that good of a friend, huh?” Valiant continued.         Fleethoof nodded. “Yes.”         “A very good friend?”         “It’s not like that, Sergeant,” replied the captain quickly. “She means a lot to me, yes, but our relationship is a mutual friendship—nothing more.”         Valiant smirked a little bit. “Is that disappointment I hear, Captain?”         “Oh shut up,” Fleethoof muttered, rolling his eyes and trying to ignore the heat under his skin. “It’s not like that at all. There’s nothing romantic between us.”         “But you want there to be?”         “What are you, my psychologist? Stop trying to make up my emotions.”         The two ponies chuckled. Fleethoof bit his lip, staring blankly up at the twinkling stars above. He honestly had no idea what he felt or thought. All he knew was how much his friends meant to him, and Cadance was way up there on his list. Feelings and emotions weren’t something he was accustomed to understanding. That’s why he had Cadance in his friend roster.         His wing began to ache again. He shrugged the discomfort away, producing a small pill bottle from his saddlebags. He surreptitiously popped the top and took a pill out, swallowing as quietly as he could.         “I’m just saying, it would make sense if you liked her. The heart wants what the heart wants, after all,” Valiant said out loud, shuffling his drink between his hooves on the bar. “I guess I’ll just see for myself soon enough, huh? Be mindful of your relationship with her though, okay? Don’t get hurt and don’t let it interfere with your judgment, Captain.”         Fleethoof scoffed briefly. “You just worry about keeping your eyes open and guard up. You always seem to anyway. Now come on, let’s get some shuteye. We’ll be there before we know it, and I want everypony on their A-game.”         “Just be careful of how close you get to the princess, Captain. Nopony needs you getting distracted.”         “I know…” he murmured, pursing his lips together as the ponies made their way out of the car. “I know…”