“What do I think is the biggest tragedy in war? It’s not the burning buildings or lost lovers or torn families... It’s when good soldiers go down without the rest of us knowing they’re good soldiers. They die, without glory or honor, before they get a chance to prove it, to show everypony who they are... They’re diamonds, that’s what they are. Shards of diamonds in a sea of broken glass.”
- Admiral Aerial Ace (retired)

To call it a mere tank was as inadequate as describing the planet it walked as a mere rock. Relating it as a self-propelled city was closer, but still failed to convey a sense of its immense power and terrible purpose. Even to define it as a moving mountain, a juggernaut of steel and runestone that moved with impunity to crush all that had the laughable courage to lay in its path, was insufficient.

Moving ominously on eight individually-articulated, independently-powered treads capable of crushing entire buildings, sporting four triple-barreled turrets with cannons that matched the largest of stationary defenses, protected by a massive shining shield array more powerful than those defending most small cities, she rolled inexorably towards the city of her birth.

Light and medium tanks lanced out from her sides, closing like the pincers of a massive claw on the Manehattanite army, ready to clench it in an unyielding grasp. Against the anvil of the newly-activated Solarium shields would the hammer of Princess Morningstar fall.

“Prepare to fire on my order,” its commander declared from her bridge, at the tip of the pyramidal tower rising from the white slab of her main body. Deep within that form, rune cores the size of houses shuddered as their rotation gained speed.

Twelve solid metal shells the size of chariots simultaneously broke the sound barrier. Morningstar’s cannons echoed off the distant hills as they annihilated the core of the remaining Manehattan army, leaving massive craters in the once-pristine fields as they reshaped the landscape with contemptuous ease.

By the time Princess Morningstar finally reached the gates of Solarium, all that was left was to mop up.

The vault was designed to shelter the top echelons of Canterlot’s government against an extended siege, and its builders had spared no expense in making it as impenetrable as possible: hallways lined with endless spell-locked steel doors, tunnels that could be flooded with water at a moment’s notice, a labyrinthine structure that would confuse and disorient even the most intelligent attacker, hidden passages that could be used to sneak behind and flank enemies when they least expected it.

Like a praying mantis, Crystalline waited for her prey to come into striking distance. She did not have to wait long. The blast doors to the main chamber slid open, momentarily revealing a glint of light that shone down from the top of the tunnel. Three ponies rushed inside, the sound of their panting breaths echoing off the stone floors and walls of the bunker. The doors slid shut again; one of the ponies found the light switch. Lightstone lamps embedded in the ceiling began to glow softly, but it would be awhile before they could warm up enough to properly illuminate the chamber.

Crystalline’s eyes had already adjusted to the darkness. Those of the other three ponies hadn’t.

Four daggers lanced out in the darkness. The red guard pony had mere seconds to register the deadly projectile piercing through his eye and into his skull before death took him. The light blue guard dodged, the knives shooting past him and embedding themselves in the wall beyond, but that marginally-faster reaction time mattered little when Crystalline teleported behind him and slit his throat.

Blade extended, Crystalline approached the stunned survivor. The old mare was frozen, her eyes still on the first dead bodyguard as Crystalline placed a hoof on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Lord Magister,” her voice flowed, smooth and silky. “I promise you will not be harmed.”

As Fluttershy watched the attacking forces melt away towards the east, dissipating like sand in the wind over the hills beyond Solarium, she couldn’t help but feel a strange pride, even knowing that it was her own side that she was watching retreat in defeat. Unlike most of her compatriots, even her friends in the medical corps, she had never felt the kind of swelling patriotism that drove them to hunger for a chance to fight to right perceived crimes. Nevertheless, she felt guilty for the feeling, knowing that the others would have found it inappropriate.

She glanced at the two purple unicorns. The one with the glasses was overjoyed, jumping and cheering, while her twin watched her with a mixture of satisfaction and embarrassment at the bespectacled pony’s celebration. Fluttershy then looked towards the sky. Her fellow pegasi were escaping through the gap in the top of the shield dome, thousands of multi-colored dots rising into the night sky amidst columns of black smoke that scattered the light of dozens of raging fires and thousands of rune machines.

Twilight—both Twilights—were busy, and Fluttershy had helped turn away several soldiers earlier. Maybe if she asked nicely, they would let her go...?

“Um,” she started, preparing to ask her question, but the sound of her voice was drowned out by a loud boom in the sky. Fluttershy looked up to see a glowing circular rainbow lighting up the darkness, with a rainbow streak screaming down right at them. Fear froze her in place, rendering her unable to move. By the time her voice returned it was already too late.

The Twilight without the glasses saw it coming; she leapt to the side, out of the way. The other one was not so fortunate. The rooftop trembled and chunks of marble and steel flew through the air as a light blue mare smashed into the building at supersonic velocity.

Her eyes stinging and tearing, Fluttershy tried to find her way out of the multicolored mushroom cloud, but the toll of the dust in her lungs was too great as her entire body violently heaved into great hacking coughs. She fell onto the floor. As the cloud thinned, a pair of hooves suddenly grasped her beneath the shoulders and began pulling her out.

“Come on, let’s get out of here!” Rainbow Dash yelled as she pulled the yellow pegasus out from the dust.

Fluttershy managed to stop coughing long enough to shout a single word in response. “No!”

The pressure beneath her forelegs disappeared, and Fluttershy stopped moving. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” Rainbow Dash asked.

Blinking the remaining dust out of her eyes as her lungs recovered, Fluttershy looked up at the light blue mare. “Why’d you do that?!” she distressedly accused. “You might have killed them!”

Rainbow Dash stared at her, unable to comprehend what her ears were hearing. “They’re the enemy,” she finally said, her voice angry and confused. “That’s the whole point! I’m saving you!”

“They’re ponies!” Fluttershy cried, getting back up on her hooves and into her friend’s face. “They’re good ponies, and they weren’t going to hurt me, and there’s no reason for you to hurt them!”

The dust had finally settled. On the far side of the building was a massive gaping crater where the wall met the roof. Sitting several feet away was one of the Twilights. As her lungs finished expelling the rest of the dust, the unicorn’s eyes rose, locking onto Rainbow Dash and widening into big, glassy spheres.

Fluttershy pulled herself away from the light blue pegasus and flew over the side of the building. Three stories down on the sidewalk was a massive pile of newly-created rubble, chunks of marble and concrete that were stained with the occasional marks of red...

Fluttershy’s heart pounded, tears burning at her eyes. “I’m going to go help her!” she shouted to Rainbow Dash.

Rainbow Dash gritted her teeth, still lost for words. It was a while before she could find her voice again. “FINE!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “You go and do that, you... you... you traitor! I’m going to stay loyal to Cloudsdale!” Furiously she beat her wings, shooting up into the sky on a rainbow trail.

Fluttershy dove. “Twilight?” she cried as she landed on the pile of rubble, pushing and rolling away stone chunks from the top as she desperately searched for Twilight. Her eyes flit around furiously, scanning from bloodstain to bloodstain, her legs and wings panickedly flitting about like the limbs of an insect, looking for a sign—any sign, living or dead, of the unicorn mare.

Though his mind remained as sharp as ever, his body was dulled and failing. Cuts ran across his face and ankles, blood dripping down his legs. Where his opponents’ blades could not penetrate his chain armor they had battered the flesh beneath with blows from hammers and hooves. Exhaustion from the non-stop running and fighting of the past several hours had taken its toll. Battling six unicorn Rangers would have been a tall order even for an unfatigued Shining Armor.

Still, he fought on. With strikes raining down upon him from every direction and his limbs slow and sluggish, the most he could do was avoid the deathblows. His magic was depleted, his telekinesis feeble and his shields easily broken. Pain pulsed across every square inch of his body. But he pressed through it, crushing it down into a tiny corner of his consciousness and casting it away. Though his body might fail him, as long as his mind remained awake, he would never give in.

Nor had his opponents escaped unscathed. One was balancing on three legs, the fourth having been neatly broken on the upper bone by a well-timed kick. Another was clutching his side in attempt to stop the bleeding from a deep stab wound; without medical attention, he would likely die. And the most unfortunate of the six Manehattanites was already dead, his chest cut and his neck snapped. That one had tried to sneak past Shining Armor’s line while he was occupied with the other five.

Two blows came in from the left and right, a bloodied blade and the tip of a broken spear. Shining Armor deflected one with his left hoof and took the other on his back, letting his plate armor absorb the blow. A third attack came from behind; he dodged, rolling forward across the concrete floor to let the strike sail over him. But before he was even out of his roll two of his opponents teleported into his path, two blades stabbing towards at separate angles.

There was no dodging both. Shining Armor twisted, allowing one to sink into the flesh of his thigh, while the other one glanced uselessly off the ground. He lashed out with a hoof, slicing across the ankles of his two opponents, causing them to fall to the ground.

The gray unicorn, grabbing the last unbroken spear, rushed at him from behind. Shining Armor saw it coming, but was equally aware that there was no avoiding the hit. Still, he tried, rolling onto his back and raising both hooves to try and catch the spear.

Then out of the blue, the sound of a distant horn-call blasted in from above, the faint but distinct sound echoing off the walls of the confined space. Shining Armor saw the gray unicorn’s eyes widen just a hair, his approach slowing down the tiniest of fractions, the spear deviating only a miniscule amount from its deadly path.

It was enough. Shining Armor pushed his hooves up against the wooden shaft, forcing the tip up and away from his head, passing so close that it could have sliced his tongue apart had he stuck it out.

The gray unicorn could have brought the shaft down onto Shining Armor’s face, he could have tried to finish the fight then and there, but instead he drew back. The other four ponies followed, their eyes lifting from the battered form of the Canterlot commando, Shining Armor no longer the focus of their attention. One by one they left, retreating up the staircase and disappearing like ghosts.

Shining Armor slowly stood back up, staring at the bottom of the steps with his mouth partially agape, his brows furrowed. It didn’t take him long to get over his confusion.

Energy suddenly jolted into his body. His limbs, as though by magic, were no longer slow and unresponsive. He rushed down the tunnel as fast as his legs could carry him, only barely able to arrest his momentum before crashing into the closed blast door at the bottom of the hall. He smashed the button that opened the access levers and flipped the levers so quickly he nearly broke the heads off one of them.

The doors opened, and darkness greeted him. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust.

He rushed into the middle of the room to the two ponies lying on the ground, shaking each in turn. “Twinblade? Spear Shot?”

He turned his head, unable to look. It wasn’t the gore that disturbed him—he had seen far worse in his career as a soldier. No, it was something deeper, something that clutched with its black tendrils at his psyche, threatening to drag it down into the abyss of despair.

Light streamed through the darkness, and Shining Armor realized that a small, secret back entrance of the vault was open. He gritted his teeth and ran. Racing across the chamber and up the tunnel, he finally burst out from the side of the mountain and into the streets of Canterlot.

A high-pitched revving noise filled the air. At the far end of the street, Shining Armor could see the five Manehattanites he had been locked in deadly combat just moments before boarding one of their flying machines. Shining Armor ran for it, flooding his four legs with every bit of strength he had remaining.

The boarding ramp began to close. He searched for more, more strength, more power he could use to run, anything, everything—

The flying machine rose into the air, encased in a glowing aura of telekinetic magic. The droning of its rune engines rose higher as it accelerated, disappearing into the night sky amongst the hundreds of other retreating aircraft and pegasi.

Shining Armor stared at the point where the flying machine had vanished, as though through sheer force of will he could bring it back.

Finally his limbs gave out and he collapsed onto the street, to be consumed by his failure.

In the central tower, rune cores the size of apartment buildings ponderously rotated. Magical energy exploded from thin air and surged through the central axle, rising towards the top. In the four secondary towers that surrounded it, smaller engines thrummed to life. Azure lightning crackled and thundered from glowing half-spheres, arcing across the distance to the central tower, where lightstone antennae received their energy and fed it into the main column. Above the highest point a massive ball of energy manifested and swelled, surrounded by enormous obsidian rings that orbited around it in erratic patterns.

The technomagical orchestra rose to a crescendo—the lightning multiplying, the energy sphere expanding, the rings accelerating—until finally, at its highest peak, its ultimate fermata, its energy burst forth into the heavens, a pillar of light exploding out from the glowing sphere into space.

The symphony pulled the sun up over the horizon, and a new day dawned over Equestria.

As a commando, he had been the first priority of the medical unicorns in Canterlot. His body still ached, especially in the thigh where he had taken that deep stab wound, but it was nothing he could not tolerate.

The same could not be said for the less fortunate ponies lined out in stretchers against the walls of the hospital atrium. Canterlot, it seemed, had gotten off lightly in the attack. There were relatively few casualties there; the free-staters had made no real attempt to cause damage and seize major objectives. Solarium’s casualties had been much more extensive, as evidenced by the overflowing hospital and hastily assembled medical tents outside.

Casualties happened in war though, and Shining Armor was not here to attend to these strangers.

“Excuse me,” he asked, tapping a doctor on the shoulder to draw her attention away from a clipboard, “but I was told I could find Twilight Sparkle here?”

The doctor cast an annoyed snort in his direction. “I’m a little busy at the moment.” She returned to her clipboard.

A small, light brown stallion seemed to notice Shining Armor, however, and approached. Shining Armor noticed the insignia denoting his rank on the stallion’s uniform, and reflexively straightened up.

“Captain Shining Armor, I presume?” the Battle Commander asked, looking up at the commando.

“Yes sir,” Shining Armor replied, making sure not to look down at the unicorn stallion.

“At ease, Captain,” the stallion replied, chuckling softly. “It’s not like we’re in the same military.”

The stallion smiled knowingly and turned to the doctor. “Please try to find Miss Sparkle for him, ma’am.”

The doctor, seemingly rather flummoxed by the request, took a few moments before nodding and running off towards the front desk. The stallion turned back to Shining Armor. “Battle Commander Oversight, at your service, Captain.” He held out a hoof.

“Thank you, Commander,” Shining Armor replied as he took the proffered limb.

Oversight nodded tiredly. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Captain of the Royal Guard, commando, claimed to be the best soldier in Equestria, a stallion without equal...” His voice trailed off and his head tilted, clearly waiting for a response.

Shining Armor shook his head, his mane flopping into his eyes. He brushed the stray hair away. “Not good enough, sir.”

Oversight sighed and looked down, an act that somehow seemed to age him by about ten years. “I directed the battle here at Solarium, Captain.” His eyes wandered out to the bloody soldiers in stretchers that lined the walls. “And I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t my job. I was only doing it because there was no one else.” He shook his head. “And I didn’t do a very good job of it. Each and every one of these casualties here, every last Solarium pony that died in this battle, is partly my fault. If I had been better, then they might not have gotten hurt.”

Shining Armor wanted to say something, like “There’s nothing you could have done,” or “You tried your best,” but he was smart enough to realize that there was a point Oversight was trying to make, and respectful enough not to interrupt him.

“And there’s more than that. This entire battle should never have happened. They should never have gotten the jump on us in the first place.” Oversight bit his lower lip. “And that was the fault of high command, who shouldn’t have gotten complacent, and the fault of InOps, who should have put the pieces together and seen it coming.”

Oversight’s gaze returned to Shining Armor’s eyes. “You’re a soldier, Captain. You go out onto the battlefield and risk your life fighting for us. We... we sit back and tell you what to do. And if you fail, then that’s not your fault. That’s our fault; for not giving you the right orders, for making you do something that you couldn’t.”

He sighed again, and Shining Armor noticed for the first time dust-free trails on the stallion’s dirty face that traced downwards along his cheeks. “The morale of the story is, Captain, that you shouldn’t blame yourself. I don’t know what it is that you’re blaming yourself for, but I can tell you that the burden isn’t yours.” He forced a smile, and glanced at the returning doctor as she approached the two stallions. “Take this time and spend it well. A pony of your talents and expertise... well, I doubt you’ll be getting much time with her for a long time.”

Room 178 was clean, although it still smelled of blood and grime, the odor wafting in from the wall. As Shining Armor stepped inside, he saw two ponies, and for a moment, he couldn’t tell who was who. The unicorn mare that had appeared at the Harmony Device—it seemed like so long ago—was standing next to the hospital bed where a perfect duplicate of her lay, eyes closed, body covered in bandages, blanket drawn up to her neck. Shining Armor breathed—they looked so similar. Had they been twins and born of the same womb they could not have looked more identical.

The Twilight standing by the bed looked up at him, and it was then Shining Armor knew that she wasn’t the one. In her eyes he saw recognition, surprise, even a little confusion—but not her, not his Twilight, the one he had known ever since she was just a foal.

Pressing his lips together, Shining Armor approached the bedside. “Will she be ok?” he whispered.

Not-Twilight looked at her unconscious twin. “The doctor said probably.” Like their bodies, their voices were also similar, but this Twilight lacked something in her sound. Perhaps it was the hint of cynicism and weariness from living in such a world as they did. “There was a lot of internal bleeding and a lot of broken bones. But he said she would probably recover fully, thanks to the armor she was wearing and the very good first aid she had.”

“It wasn’t me,” Not-Twilight quickly responded. “There was a medic, her name’s Fluttershy.” Her eyes turned back to the unconscious mare. “I lifted the rocks off with magic, and she did her thing...”

“She was a Cloudsdale pony.” Not-Twilight looked up at Shining Armor. “They put her with the other prisoners of war.” Her eyes seemed to be begging him for something. “Could you... is there anything you could do for her? She... she’s a very gentle pony, and she would never hurt a fly...”

Shining Armor shook his head. “I’ll try, but there’s probably not a lot I can do about it.”

Not-Twilight slumped, closing her eyes and nodding. “I understand.” There was a short pause. “I should probably go.”

“Thanks, big b-” Whatever the purple unicorn was about to say, she seemed to have stopped herself, shaking her head. “Thank you,” she repeated, and closed the door behind her.

Shining Armor turned back to his sister. He wanted to run his hoof through her mane, and briefly he imagined her waking up as he did so, rubbing her head as he had so often done when they were younger. But it was just a fleeting dream, and he knew better than to try.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head. I failed Canterlot, and I failed you too. Slowly he opened his eyes again and stared at the unconscious form of his little sister.

“I promised I would always be there to protect you,” he whispered, his voice so soft it was barely audible even to himself. What a foolish, childlike promise that was, a promise made in youthful naivete, not recognizing that the forces that worked in the world were far beyond the control of any one pony. “I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”

The sun climbed and fell in the sky. Shining Armor did not leave Twilight’s side. As the Solar Engine thundered again and night fell, Shining Armor felt his eyes droop with the setting sun and exhaustion wore on him like a heavy blanket.

Autumn had turned to winter, and the gold and crimson leaves, now crackled and brown, had fallen from the trees. Huddled in the warmth of their living room, Shining Armor watched Twilight read a spellbook by the light of the fireplace. Such an unusual little pony she was. Whereas most fillies would be busy playing make-believe with their friends at a time like this, Twilight simply read. It was as if imaginary worlds weren’t enough for her; as if she needed the challenge and logic of reality to satisfy her developing mind. In earlier years, Shining Armor had often worried about her lack of friends. Although that worry still nagged at him from time to time, he knew now it was simply a part of who his little sister was, and that it was useless to try and change it.

And it wasn’t all bad. After all, it meant that the two of them had a relationship few brothers and sisters so different in age could boast of.

A knock sounded against the door. Their mother, who had been wrapping presents for Hearth’s Warming Eve, trotted out from the kitchen to open it. A blast of cold air blew its way into the living room, penetrating the cozy bubble of warmth and safety that was their home.

At the door were two pegasi, one white and the other light green, dressed in the well-decorated golden armor of the Canterlot military. Their expressions were grim. His mother, taking a deep breath, turned around to face her children.

“Shining Armor, take Twilight up to her room, please, and watch her there.”

Shining Armor knew better than to ask questions. Putting on a playful smile, he grabbed a protesting Twilight by the scruff of her neck and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom.

“But it’s cold up here!” Twilight whined as Shining Armor dropped her on the carpet.

“I’m sure it won’t be long.” Shining Armor walked over to a chest in the corner and took out a small gray doll. Even though it was only a few years old, the fabric was already worn and ragged, the dark gray dye already starting to fade—testament to the young, not-always delicate love its owner gave it. “Why don’t you play with Smarty Pants for a while?”

Twilight pouted cutely, but as the cloth doll floated down into her hooves her face broke out into a light grin. “Alright Smarty Pants, time to go to school...”

Smiling, Shining Armor quietly left the room. As the door closed behind him, the grin vanished, and he silently descended the stairs, taking great care to avoid the particular steps that always creaked.

Hidden behind the wall, he could hear his mother sob; a short, breathy, whimpering noise as she tried to control herself. The guards were murmuring something, and Shining Armor took the chance to peek out from behind the door frame.

The white pegasus had his hoof on his mother’s shoulder as she stood trembling, her body heaving up and down as she took deep breaths, trying desperately to stave off the tears. Her resolve, however, could only last so long, and as her willpower crumbled away she broke out into a quiet wail, sitting down onto the doorstep, her front hooves buried in the snow.

Shining Armor withdrew back behind the wall, and stared at the ground. As his mother’s cries continue to pour out, he found himself unable to stand the sound anymore. He ascended the stairs with much less care than he had descended them.

Twilight looked up as he entered her room, putting Smarty Pants down on the little wooden box meant to be his school desk. Her eyes were wide with curiosity as she inspected her brother, her head tilting as he approached.

“Those soldiers,” Twilight answered, tilting her head in the direction of the stairs. “They were wearing the same armor as daddy.”

Shining Armor took a deep breath, his smile feeling a little more genuine this time. “That’s very perceptive of you, Twiley. You’re such a smart little filly, aren’t you?” He crouched down and tousled her mane.

“I’m not little!” Twilight squeaked protestingly as she fought off her brother’s hoof. Chuckling, Shining Armor drew back, and Twilight looked up at him, her eyes questioning. “If those soldiers are back, then why isn’t daddy?”

Shining Armor sighed and closed his eyes. There... really isn’t any good way to put this, is there, he thought to himself. Finally he opened his eyes and tried to make his voice as comforting as he could. “Daddy’s not coming home, Twiley.”

Twilight’s little eyebrows furrowed, and her head tilted to one side. “Why not?”

The older unicorn took a deep breath, trying to work up the courage to tell her. “He’s... gone somewhere.”

Twilight’s mouth pouted, her eyebrows furrowing even more, perhaps understanding even at such a young age that her brother’s story didn’t add up. “Where?”

The filly unicorn didn’t like to hear that. “But... but...” Her mouth opened wide as she let out a high-pitched wail. “But he promised!” she bawled, her voice broken and filled with sobs. “He p- promised that he’d be h- home for Hearth’s Warming Eve!”

Shining Armor extended his hooves and picked Twilight up. He wrapped her in a close embrace, patting her back as she cried on his shoulder. “I know, I know,” he soothed, rocking her back and forth. “And I’m sure that he’s very sorry too, and that if he could he would... he would...” Shining Armor drew in air, unable to get his next words out. “He would be here with us.”

“I know, I know,” the older brother answered his sister’s scream. “And I’m sorry, but he’s not here... But I’m here, aren’t I? And I promise I’ll always be here for you.”

Twilight wails slowly died down, reduced to mere sniffling. She leaned back in her brother’s forelegs, looking him in the eyes as she rubbed her own with her hooves. “P- promise?”

“Promise.” He hugged her tightly, the crook of her neck resting against his shoulder. They stayed that way for a long time.

Shining Armor gently rubbed her head, his face softened with a small, sad smile.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Canterlot Office of Veteran’s Affairs
Completed Insurance Claims Report

Claimant’s Name: Night Light
Claimant’s Date of Birth: 06/23/156
Claimant’s Address: 188 Mountain Light St., Canterlot
Agent’s Name: Monochrome
Agent ID: 259-53946
Insurance Policy: 305
Claim: Deceased, combat-related injuries.
Claim Description: Received fatal chest injury during border skirmish at DMZ on 12/14/172, died of complications related to surgery 6 hours later at combat hospital.
Action Taken: 10,000 bits paid to family (Wife, child (2)), additional 25,000 to be paid in 5,000 increments over next 5 years. Written condolences and gift basket sent.
Other: Nothing of interest

Fragment

by Heliostorm

Chapter 5: Love and Loss