The Situation Room.
Fleethoof had not set hoof in this hallowed chamber of Equestrian military might since that day, long ago, when war had been declared for the first time in centuries. As far as he knew, it had been out of service since then, with no active military conflicts demanding its use.
Even still, trotting briskly up to those two large doors felt daunting in its own right. The last time he had been here, he had been a rookie, just a few months out of basic. Captain Phalanx had been standing beside him then, like a reassuring father figure. Now, the ghosts of the past lingered in the pony’s mind, and he could almost swear he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder urging him forward.
The doors opened up, and a rush of cool air surged out into the corridor from within. Fleethoof had forgotten how much colder the room was than the rest of the castle. Taking that first step past the threshold into the massive chamber made the captain feel younger again, and though the war was long-since over, he could still picture the hectic chaos of ponies rushing back and forth before his very eyes. The silence was almost daunting to him now.
The large table on the raised dais seemed comically too large for the four ponies seated around it. The princesses, Spitfire, and Shining Armor were huddled around something on the table. Still, the quartet of military minds looked up when the doors opened, greeting the black-uniformed soldier with morbid gazes. He had anticipated the presence of the princesses and Spitfire, but Shining Armor’s appearance had been a surprise. Even Spitfire had gotten here post haste. She must have been notified sometime during his interrogation.
“Shining,” Fleethoof greeted with a nod, taking a seat beside his friend.
“Fleet.”
Celestia spoke to the captain, “Thank you for joining us so promptly, Captain Fleethoof.”
“My pleasure, your majesty. Has something happened?”
Princess Celestia hesitated in answering. “Yes, something has. We’ve located the missing members of Union.”
In an instant, Fleethoof’s heart soared. Union had been found? That means they could be brought back. They could be saved.
“That’s wonderful news, Princess!” Fleethoof said with a relieved smile. “Where are they?”
“Dodge City.”
In another split second, the pony went from very happy to very confused.
“What are they doing there?”
“Attacking us,” Princess Luna chimed in, pushing the stack of papers and photos over to both officers. “They assaulted and killed four members of the Royal Guard stationed there, and wounded a number of civilians.”
Fleethoof was speechless. Was this some sort of bad joke? He could feel a surge of anger at that prospect, and quickly dispelled it, forcing himself to look down at the evidence in front of his eyes.
Vivid, colorful photographs depicted a massacre. Bodies of ponies lay scattered across the sandy ground, all clad in matching sets of golden armor. The beige earth itself was darkened in sporadic splotches with blood.
“What happened…?”
“From the reports of the soldiers that escaped the slaughter, Union attacked without warning or reason after arriving via train. They shot without discrimination, and vanished almost immediately after.” Luna shook her head slowly as she reiterated the reports back to them. “They fought with merciless guerrilla tactics. Ambushed the soldiers from multiple sides.”
“There were only three ponies!” cried an enraged Fleethoof, eyes narrowed to deadly points as he tossed the photos across the table away from him, refuting the adamant proof. “How could three ponies do this and get away uncaught?!”
Celestia had the answer to that. “All of our troops south of our border have not received fresh reinforcements yet, Captain. They were running on the most minimum staff until we could successfully retrain the Guard here to supplement them. The survivors also said there were more than three ponies in the assault.”
Now Fleethoof was incredibly confused. “Then how could they be sure it was Union?”
At his inquiry, both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna turned to look at the silent Spitfire. She was holding a crumpled up ball of paper in her hooves, turning it over again and again. Her orange eyes were distant, dimmed with a look of defeat and remorse. The paper ball in her hooves illuminated with a rosy glow as Shining Armor magically lifted it away and brought it over to himself and Fleethoof. Swallowing back the raw emotions boiling up in his soul, Fleethoof slowly unfolded the creased paper. It was another photograph, taken awkwardly, as if somepony had shot it on the run.
Standing on the station platform, a single pony stood shrouded by the smoke and dust. Although it was hard to make him out at first, Fleethoof recognized the distinct stallion features, and recognized that mane and coat. The longer he focused, the more the face became clearer.
It was Lightning Strike, with Glider a short distance away.
“Dammit all…” Fleethoof muttered, burying his face in his hooves. He felt exhausted. How did this even happen? Why did it happen? So many questions were still unanswered.
Shining Armor cleared his throat, pushing the pile of papers away from him as well. “Do we know if Union’s still there?”
“We don’t, but we have to assume they are,” said Celestia. “Otherwise, we don’t know where they’d go… From their patterns, it looks as if they are headed for Saddle Arabia, most likely to move on our Forward Operating Base…”
Fleethoof could only stare down in shock at the reports in front of him. His eyes must have been deceiving him. There was no other logical explanation. But even as he struggled to grasp the reality of what had happened, his mind had already wrapped itself around the gravity of the situation.
“What in Equestria would drive a pony to do something like this?” he asked silently to himself, hoping that this was all a bad dream.
Luna sighed softly, her eyes dark and heavy with the burden of recent events. “I do not know…”
He rifled through a few of the obituaries. He had known some of these ponies. Staring down at their faces, he still couldn’t believe that they were gone. It just didn’t seem real.
“Does anypony else know?” the pegasus asked, dreading the answer. “Does Malik know?”
“We have not heard a word from Prince Malik, so we must assume not.” The princess’ words did little to assuage the captain’s worries.
“This could start an international incident…”
“Which is why we need you to halt your work with Captain Armor and fix this mess.”
“But… your majesty—” Shining Armor began to argue.
“I am sorry, Captain Armor, but this matter outweighs your project.” Luna’s words were clear and authoritative. “Skyfall Team must quell the threat before they make a move in Saddle Arabia. We cannot afford to lose our footing there, or else we are looking at an escalation in the war.”
Shining Armor was quiet for a moment, and then he heaved a sigh and nodded slowly. She was right. FOB Sierra Alpha was too valuable to abandon, and any remaining soldiers would need the reinforcements if Union were headed that way. This was exactly the incident he had feared when he began the reformation. As it unfortunately turned out, his intuition had been right…
“What do you want us to do, Princess?” Fleethoof asked, looking up at the regal blue alicorn.
“Neutralize any opposition. We do not know how many the traitors number in, but they are sufficiently well equipped and trained to do the sort of damage they did,” Luna stated, briefing the captain. “Transport can take you back to Nadira, but that is as close as we can get you. From there, you’ll have to find other means of conveyance to the base.”
Fleethoof nodded slowly. If Prince Malik was unaware of the situation moving towards his own lands, then they’d have to rely on stealth to get from Nadira to the base. Any sort of attention to the increased Equestrian presence would undoubtedly spark the war into a raging wildfire.
“And… what of Union?”
Celestia and Luna exchanged a look, as if communicating telepathically, while Celestia dipped her head sadly. “If they have truly turned against us, then we have no choice. Terminate them with extreme prejudice.”
“Understood, your majesty,” he said, his heart growing cold. “We’ll take care of it before anypony notices.”
“I’m afraid it’s far too late for that.”
A soft, feminine voice at the door caught the ponies’ attention. Fleethoof turned around quickly, eyeing the stallion and mare as they trotted in towards them. The ponies looked like mirror images of one another, with opposite mane and coat colors of sandy browns and burgundy. The mare’s ultramarine eyes complimented her lighter coat, while the stallion’s emerald optics did the same for his darker fur. They each wore a bandolier, a pistol hanging at their sides. Most strikingly, neither pony bore a cutie mark on their flanks.
Beside him, Fleethoof heard Shining Armor snort quietly. His own eyes narrowed as the ponies got closer. He recognized who they were, and he knew why the Captain of the Guard was so displeased to see them.
Re'emians.
He’d heard the rumors and the stories, but he had never met anypony from Re'em before. Not that he ever expected to in Equestria—which raised a red flag and one very serious question in his mind.
“What are Re'emians doing here?” Shining asked, giving voice to Fleethoof’s pondering. “How did you get past the guards?”
“Coming to see how Equestria planned on cleaning up their mess,” the mare responded as calmly and coolly as ever. “And for your information, they let us in.”
“That’s classified,” Fleethoof said on reflex.
The stallion turned his attention quickly upon the pegasus that had spoken. “There is no need for the hostilities, my brother. We come as allies, not enemies.”
“Enemies? I was not aware Re'em was considering war with Equestria now too…”
“You know what I meant.”
“Chaim, shh…” the mare whispered soothingly. “We know we are unwelcome in these lands, and we know of our differences in the past. But we bring you information—and an apology.”
Celestia, sensing the tension between her captains and the newcomers, stepped in to mediate. “What information do you bear?”
“Re'em knows about the incident in Dodge,” the stallion named Chaim said more calmly now. “With how closely we monitor our neighboring provinces, it would be impossible to miss it, even if the idle eyes of our neighbor prince are blinded. Our armies have decided not to take advantage of the opportunity, however.”
Shining Armor scoffed. “How generous of you.”
“It is not generosity that stays our hooves. It is humility.”
Fleethoof furrowed his brow.
“Humility for what?” asked Celestia with apprehension.
The ponies hesitated, exchanging a look between each other. The mare finally spoke, “This incident is our doing as well… Our mercenaries provided aid to the Equestrians who orchestrated this. We share in this blame.”
Fleethoof felt his breathing stop momentarily. This was far beyond what he had feared. It already was an international crisis—and the war was going to get out of hoof.
“You had a hoof in this?” Shining Armor almost shouted, rising swiftly from his chair, eyes smoldering. “And then have the audacity to march in here and apologize like you merely threw a ball through a window?!”
“Re'em did not do this—renegade mercenaries of ours did,” Chaim said for clarification. Annoyance tinted his voice with a tone of hostility. “Since the war ignited again, some of our kin have decided to take up the trade of blood. Guns for hire, to anypony with the bits to pay. Our government has no affiliation with them, and that is why we are here: to offer our aid and the support of The Mossad.”
A thrill of real fear ran down Fleethoof spine at the mention of them. He could almost feel his eyes dilating and the color drain from his face.
Shining Armor, however, remained as staunch as ever. “We don’t need your help.”
Chaim seemed completely unfazed by the captain’s resentment. “Suit yourself. After all, I’m sure you can track down these bandits on your own, especially when you don’t even know how many they number in, or what their endgame is, or where they are even going.”
Nopony responded. Nopony could. The Re'emianan had a point none could refute. They had information the Equestrians needed. Without it, they were stuck at square one.
“Very well. We shall cooperate in settling this,” Celestia reluctantly agreed, her gaze firm and resolute. “But do not take this as a pledge of allegiance to Re'em. This temporary coalition is for the mutual benefit of both our nations.”
The ponies grinned, and replied in creepily perfect sync, “But of course, your highness.”
“What forces does Re'em pledge in this effort?”
“You are looking at them.” Both mare and stallion dropped to a bow before the committee. “Special Agents Adira and Chaim, at your service.”
“Two agents?” Fleethoof wasn’t sure whether to feel amused or insulted. “That’s the commitment of Re'em to preserving world peace?”
Adira rolled her eyes. “You wound me with your underestimations, pegasus.”
“That’s ‘Captain’ to you.”
“Forgive my ignorance, officer,” she said, a twinge of sarcasm tainting her tone. “But there is more to us than meets the eye.”
“I’m not interested in what you can do,” Fleethoof interrupted sharply, losing patience very, very quickly. “I’m interested in what you know. So start talking.”
“And we will… but only to the rulers of Equestria, and the pony in charge of the pledged Equestrian force.”
“You’re speaking to him.”
Adira suddenly became very interested in him. Her eyes lit up, and she strode fluidly up to him, extending a hoof.
“It’s a pleasure working with you, Captain…” She trailed off, letting him fill in the blank.
“Fleethoof.” The pegasus lifted a hoof, simply to lower hers back to the ground. “And you can spare the pleasantries. I don’t like you, and you don’t like us. So let’s keep this strictly business.”
The mare smirked and chuckled. “So cold, yet so professional. Very well, Captain Fleethoof. Let’s talk business.”
Fleethoof didn’t waste any time. “Where is Fireteam Union?”
“You mean your ponies in this? As far as we know, still heading south, along with our brothers and sisters.”
“As far as you know? Meaning you’re not sure.”
“Our information is more up to date than yours is. Take it with a grain of salt.”
“How many of your soldiers are there?”
Adira’s eyes narrowed. “They are not our soldiers. We know they left Equestria with a dozen. How many are left alive, we are unsure of. Our spies have not dared to attempt to make contact with those bloodthirsty rebels.”
“Okay…” He nodded his head. “We’ll have to eliminate them all, including all three of Union.”
“Three?”
“Um… yes, there are three members of Union.”
“No, Captain. There are only two Equestrian ponies.”
Fleethoof had lost track of how many times he had been taken aback this morning alone. Only two members of Union were behind this? Then that meant one was still out there, unaccounted for, somewhere—or he was dead. But if he was alive and not working with the defectors, it could mean he could give them insight into Union’s state of mind and what to expect.
“We need to find that missing member of Union,” he said. “Do you know where Union had gone to prior to the attack on Dodge?”
Chaim nodded. “We do. We’ve been tracking their movements since they headed south. We thought it was odd of an Equestrian Special Forces team to be running off to such parts of the world, we had to make sure you weren’t giving direct aid to our enemy.”
That was all Fleethoof needed to hear. “Where were they?”
“Quarter Master!”
The unicorn in question spun around when he heard his name bellowed across Skyfall Headquarters. Across the chamber, his six favorite ponies in the world were striding ever closer. It brought a smile to the pony’s face, and he quickly cantered up to meet them halfway.
“Hello, Captain!” he greeted cheerfully, all smiles. “Come for a little run in the obstacle course? It’s been such a long time since you’ve done it.”
Fleethoof held up a hoof, sharply cutting off the scientist’s speech. “We need some information.”
Fleethoof’s demeanor spoke strictly of professionalism. Quarter Master realized this wasn’t a friendly visit. Something was happening. Dropping his smile, he nodded his head briskly.
“But of course, my friend. What can I do for you?”
“We need to gear up for a mission, mostly,” the captain continued as the rest of his team rushed by towards the equipment vault. “But I need to know some things.”
Another nod. “Anything.”
“Your division worked on the equipment for Project: Union, right?”
Yet another nod. “Yes, we developed some things for them. Nothing specific to the unit alone, but we let them use some prototypes for field testing and the like.”
“What did you let them use?”
“Oh, uh… Let me see…” He strode over to his desk at the head of the laboratory segment of the headquarters. The surface was smothered in paper, which flew through the air in a burst of powder blue magic.
“Been busy lately?” Fleethoof asked with a sarcastic smirk.
“I could ask the same of you,” retorted Quarter, smiling as he found the Project: Union folder amongst the levitating aerial mess. “Ah! Here it is! Let’s see… I loaned them two ACRs with optics, four of the new issue sidearms, two night vision monocular devices, and flashbang grenades.”
When he turned around, Fleethoof was wearing the most comical expression of confusion the unicorn had ever seen. “You loaned them what exactly?”
“Oh! That’s right, you have no idea what I’m talking about!” He laughed, motioning with his head to a nearby table, where two firearms lay. “Allow me to show you what you’ve been missing! You see, Princess Luna and I have been collaborating very closely on some new projects, like the helicopters. She’s a very inspired pony, let me tell you that! Anyway, she wanted to create a new set of weapons for her Lunar Guard, so we developed these.”
The ponies stood before the table now. Quarter Master lifted the handgun first, showing it off. Fleethoof recognized the design.
“That looks exactly like Sharp Shot’s pistol.”
“That’s because it is the same design, just a higher caliber,” he said, locking the slide back and handing it to Fleethoof to hold. “.40 caliber rounds, ten per magazine, all in this sleek compact form. It’ll give the bats a little bit more knockdown power. We both felt it suited their lifestyle.”
Fleethoof chuckled and set the gun down. “I’ll say… And what’s this?”
He pointed to the black rifle lying on the table. It looked unlike anything he had seen before. With a proud smile, Quarter Master levitated it up and slowly turned it around while it hovered in midair.
“This, my good captain, is the ACR. Adaptive Combat Rifle. It’s the latest carbine design crafted by yours truly and imagined by our benevolent Princess of the Night. Same caliber as our other rifles, same magazines, but in a smaller, more compact and lightweight form. Collapsible stock and holographic optics come standard issue with these to each soldier. It’ll make the Nightwatch’s overall kit less heavy and more maneuverable for them.”
Fleethoof noted the smaller design of both new weapons for the Lunar Guard. “At the cost of effective range though, right?”
A loud laugh from the scientist echoed around the chamber. “In all honesty, Captain, when have you ever heard of a bat pony doing any type of fighting other than face-to-face?”
That made Fleethoof crack a smile. Quarter was right about that. Thoughts of his encounters with Midnight Dasher came to mind briefly. She was going to be ecstatic over the new loadout.
“We also gave them these.” Quarter Master grasped a headset with a single lens pair of goggles attached to it with his blued magic. “They’re still very much in the experimental phase, but these are the start of our night vision optics. We wanted to create a way for our soldiers to see in the dark as well as a bat pony can. This is the first generation. I was actually working on some for you fine stallions.”
“Impressive. May I?” Fleethoof took the optical device and placed it over his head.
“By all means, Captain! I have some for all of you to take. I also have these for you.” The next thing that went airborne was a pair of long metallic cylinders.
Fleethoof chuckled and shook his head defiantly. “Yeeeah, I’m not taking any hoof grenades, thanks.”
“Still don’t trust them, Captain?”
“Nooope.”
“Oh, but I think you’ll like these! They’re completely non-lethal,” explained Quarter Master, pulling the pin. “These create a loud bang and burst of light, completely blinding a foe for several seconds and disrupting the fluid in the inner ear, disorienting and tampering with their balance. Observe—FIRE IN THE HOLE!”
Quarter Master tossed the grenade across the lab. The grenade hit the floor with a clang, and then a blinding light filled Fleethoof’s vision. His ears rang as an explosive sound deafened him. Fleethoof grit his teeth and closed his eyes tight, leaning against the table for support. His head was spinning, and he could hear his heart pounding against his eardrums. After a few moments, his hearing and sight began to slowly return. Across the lab, he could see a group of other researchers suffering the same effect he had just experienced.
“So? What do you think?”
Fleethoof couldn’t even think of a response. “Wow…”
“I told you that you’d like them. So, want some?”
“Definitely. So you gave these to Union?” he asked, lifting the ACR in his hooves and getting a feel for it.
“Correct. And the other equipment. Though we did get one back when… well, when the sergeant passed.”
Fleethoof’s brow creased as he did the math. “So the other two prototypes are still in their possession?”
Quarter Master nodded. “Yes. They have yet to give me their report on how it functions. That’s the only thing preventing me from mass producing these for the Nightwatch on the double.”
“I think you’re going to be waiting for that report for a while…”
“Why? Has something come up?”
Fleethoof pressed his lips together. “You could say that… Does this prototype work?”
“Well, I haven’t installed a firing pin in that one. It was just meant as a work in progress model, but with a couple tweaks, it could be functional.” Quarter cocked his head to the side just slightly. “Why do you ask?”
“Do your tweaks, Quarter. I’ll test this one and let you know how it works.”
Quarter Master hesitated in his response. “Did something happen to Union?”
The storm clouds gathering in Fleethoof’s eyes told the summary of the story to the pony. He nodded slowly, understanding, and no more needed to be said.
“Very well, Captain Fleethoof. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll have it functional for you,” Quarter said cheerfully, taking the gun back and gathering the necessary tools from nearby with his magic.
Turning on his hooves, Fleethoof left the researcher to his work. He joined his team in the vault just as they were finishing gearing up. Cupcake was cleaning his gun with Valiant while Blue Shield packed his bags with medical supplies by the dozen. Sharp Shot was loading bullets into his magazines, and then jamming them wherever they could fit in his vest.
Fleethoof slipped his combat vest over his uniform and snapped the buckles together, fitting it to his form. It didn’t feel right to be kitting up knowing he was going hunting for his own fellow soldiers. It felt dirty, like a betrayal to the code of the Royal Guard. But Union had already turned their back on the code, and on the Guard, and on Equestria.
They had made their bed. Now it was time to lay them to rest in it.
He could feel the scowl on his face just from the gravity of his wandering mind. Trying his best to stay focused on the task at hand, Fleethoof began sliding the loaded magazines for his rifle and the flashbang grenades into their homes on his harness, then turned to his saddlebags. He took the standard gear he always relied on: a pair of binoculars, a couple canteens, some extra rounds, and other necessities for lengthy missions.
A glance back over his shoulder at his five ponies told Fleethoof that they weren’t looking forward to his any more than he was. Nopony said much other than the occasional phrase or two to one another. Even Sharp Shot, the comedian that he was, was unusually silent as he assembled his rifle and slung it over his shoulder.
Fleethoof grabbed his knife from the metal shelf in his section of the vault and slid it into the sheath attached to his vest. Then he grabbed his pistol from the shelf—and hesitated. He had forgotten he already had a pistol in his side holster. With slow, gradual grace, Fleethoof drew the Nightingale from its home, and stared at the gun while it glistened under the pure white light from overhead.
The Nightingale had already proven its trustworthiness and effectiveness as a sidearm, but it came with a brutal cost. The bullets apparently singed flesh and burned organic tissue. He could still see the stallion and that… creature… writhing in agony and screaming about the fire under their skin. It was a lethally effective weapon—almost too much so for him to consider turning on his own brethren.
Exhaling hard, Fleethoof set the Nightingale down on the shelf, and placed its spare magazines beside it, replacing it with his standard handgun. He did not want to cause that kind of pain to Union. But what if he had to? He had no idea what he was going up against… Perhaps having that ace in the hole wasn’t a bad plan? What if he just used it as a backup?
With a groan of frustration to his own indecisive brain, he rolled his eyes and snatched his personal firearm up again. Taking a spare holster from the cabinet of extra equipment, Fleethoof jammed the gun home and attached it to his belt around his back, tucked safely beneath his uniform out of sight. He prayed the next time he’d have to pull it out would be to put it back away.
“Take what you need, but pack light, team,” Fleethoof said, affixing his headset to his ear. “We need to stay fast on our hooves to catch up to Union before anything else happens. Then go see Quarter. He has some new toys for you.”
“Where are we going anyway, boss?” Sharp asked.
“Oxford. That’s where they were last seen all together. If they ditched one of their team members there, there’s a good chance he might still be lingering there.”
Fleethoof grabbed the last of his equipment and turned for the door. Behind him, the rest of Skyfall followed. They were ready.
While the five set off for the elevator, Fleethoof took a detour back to the lab. Quarter Master was still hunched over the table, hard at work, but as he drew closer, Fleethoof could see had been reassembling the rifle.
“You have impeccable timing, Captain,” Quarter Master jested, tightening one last bolt before lifting the gun and testing the action, nodding with a satisfied smile. “Give it a test.”
Happy to oblige, Fleethoof smiled and slung the rifle across his broad chest. He loaded a magazine in and pulled the action, testing the smoothness of the draw as he chambered the first round. It moved like silk against itself. Flipping the safety off, Fleethoof trotted across to the firing range and fired three rounds downrange at the closest target. Each one went off without failure.
“Thank you, Quarter. I’ll be sure to give you my full critique when I get back,” he said in promise, engaging the safety again and making his way towards the elevator to catch up to his team.
“Do be sure to keep a better hold of it than the last prototype!” said Quarter Master jokingly, hearing the officer bark a short laugh before he disappeared.
The train ride down to Oxford was tense and awkward. Faced with the presence of the two Re'emian agents, everypony was put off. Fleethoof had come to an uneasy indifference with them. They were working on the same side, after all. Valiant didn’t seem to hold an opinion one way or another. Fleethoof wondered why.
Surprisingly, both Sharp Shot and Cupcake glared daggers at the ponies from the south. Neither stallion seemed to like the coalition, let alone being in the same car as the Re'emians. Blue Shield was deliberately looking everywhere but at the stallion and mare, and Lightning Flash just looked uncomfortable from the tension of the situation.
But what was most unsettling was the quiet. Since they had departed from Canterlot, nopony had said a single word. Not one. The silence felt oppressive to Fleethoof, like it was choking the air with a physical density. Several times now, he had considered saying something—anything—to break the stillness, but each time he had no idea where to even start.
“You ponies come very heavily equipped,” Chaim noted in passive observation, taking the brave initiative to start conversation. “Are you sure we are not going to war?”
“We’ve learned it is better to come overly prepared than not prepared enough.” Fleethoof’s answer was succinct and professional.
“And what is it you do with this preparation, exactly?”
“That’s classified,” Sharp Shot interrupted swiftly, almost looking like he took pride in cutting the other pony off. Chaim cast a glowering look up at the unicorn.
“Do you fear us, Sergeant?”
“No. I detest you.”
“Pity. You’d live longer if you feared us.”
“You dare to threaten us?” Cupcake said with a guttural growl, gnashing his teeth together as his rough, heavy accent emphasized the resentment in his voice, “It would not be smart of pony such as yourself to make such move.”
A grin spread across Chaim’s lips. “Ah, a Northern pony, eh? Still sore about the Stronghold?”
Cupcake snorted and stood up from his seat on the opposite side of the car. Sharp Shot grabbed the larger stallion by his harness, holding him back with a jerk. Chaim chuckled under his breath.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Do not egg our partners on, brother,” said Adira, casting a scolding look to the pony beside her.
“Aww, but it is so much fun to test the control of the larger one,” he said, grinning widely at Cupcake. “Or lack thereof.”
“Because you proved you have such control,” Sharp snapped back. “Especially at Ashkelon.”
Chaim’s expression froze on his face, then very slowly dropped to a furious scowl. “How dare you…”
But the sniper was far from done. “I heard they burned it to the ground. I’d say it was a shame, but it’s a nice bit of karma. Shame it couldn’t have been Tail Aviv. Then you’d get your comeuppance.”
Chaim grit his teeth together and rose to his hooves in a blur of motion. He was fast—faster than Fleethoof could have anticipated. Adira, however, must have predicted his move, because she caught him the same way Cupcake had been stopped, and pulled him back to his seat.
“Enough, everypony! This is foalish nonsense! If silence is what it takes to keep the peace, then let the silence be.”
Valiant looked positively lost. “Can somepony explain to me what’s going on?”
All eyes turned to the pony seated beside the window.
“You’ve never heard of Re'em?” asked Adira. “Never learned of our history? Nothing?”
Both Re'emians looked shocked when Valiant shook his head in the negative.
“Wow… Now I almost feel insulted.” The mare laughed softly. “Do you at least know Re'em exists?”
“Well, yeah. I could pick it out on a map, but I don’t know anything about it.”
“That’s surprising,” Sharp Shot said, then added, “Well, maybe not… It’s not really something Equestria would teach nowadays.”
Valiant felt out of a very large loop. “Well, how did you all learn about it?”
“School,” Sharp and Cupcake answered in tandem.
“Same,” was Blue Shield’s answer.
Fleethoof replied, “I did a lot of research on my own. I needed to know for this job.”
“Anypony care to enlighten me?”
“Over a thousand years ago, long before the rise and fall of Nightmare Moon, Equestria lived under the rule of the two princesses,” Fleethoof began to explain. “But there was a group of ponies who did not believe in the powers of the alicorns. They theorized that they did not actually have any control over natural powers of such magnitude, and that it was all a natural law that governed the rising and setting of the sun and moon. They denounced Celestia and Luna as their deities and rulers.
“Back then, that was considered heresy treason of the highest degree. The rest of the population of Equestria began to rise up against those ponies, and a small civil war sprung forth. As short-lived as it was, it did result in some catastrophic destruction in The Frozen North, and ultimately led to the banishment of the heretics. With nowhere to go, the ponies traveled south, till they found the land now known as Re'em. They settled it, and their nation grew, holding to their codex of beliefs without the alicorns.”
Valiant listened intently as Fleethoof told the history of the southern nation. “Ah… so that’s why there’s such bitter resentment between Equestrian ponies and Re'emian ponies.”
Fleethoof nodded. “Exactly.”
“So… why don’t they have cutie marks?”
“That’s a good question. Once banished, the alicorns placed an enchantment on the ponies, removing their ability to generate cutie marks, severing the final tie between them and Equestria. They had essentially become their own separate race at that point.”
“A damnation we are proud to bear,” Chaim said. “Those tacky marks on your flanks just further designate you as mindless slaves to a false god’s will.”
“Enough, brother. We are not trying to spark a war with Equestria!” Adira sighed, exasperated. “You must forgive Chaim. He has no filter in his mind, and he’s a little too patriotic sometimes.”
“At least the traitor adheres to his beliefs, even if they’re wrong,” Sharp said as a taunt.
“You’ll have to forgive Sergeant Sharp Shot,” Fleethoof apologized as well. “He’s just an idiot.”
“Damn straight… Wait, what?”
“I still have one more question,” Valiant interjected, raising his hoof like he were in a class. “I get that the Re'emians and Equestrians have bad blood, but who are they at war with then? ‘Cause it’s not us.”
“That would be the Saddle Arabians…” Adira muttered disgustedly, as if the name left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Chaim made a gagging sound. “Wretched horses…”
“Why do the Saddle Arabians hate them?”
Fleethoof continued his story. “The land the Re'emians settled was formerly part of Saddle Arabia. At the time, the nation was still expanding, and had not reached the Marediterranean coast yet. But when they got there, imagine their surprise to find pony settlements with no established national border! That led to the first Arabian-Re’emian War.
“The Re'emians won the first war, and Re'em was officially formed. But the Saddle Arabians are a proud race. When they learned of the ponies’ unusual theology, coupled with the defeat, it revolted them. They struck again, and a second war sparked. Again, they were pushed back—but this time, the Re'emians retaliated, and a third war started not long after. Back and forth it’s gone since the nations became neighbors, neither side backing down.”
“How can we back down when backing down means death for all of our stallions, mares, and foals?” said Adira defensively. “We may be a warring nation, but only because we must to survive.”
Valiant continued, “So how did Equestria get involved in all of this?”
“Princess Celestia refused to take sides in the war, but resented the idea of any race going extinct,” Fleethoof tried to explain. “So she established two fully operational bases in each nation and stationed a permanent reserve of soldiers there, to equally defend both sides. For a long time, it meant an unofficial mutual ceasefire. But now, it seems like even a reinforced military on both sides isn’t enough to stave off war forever.”
“So why can’t we all just let bygones be bygones and be friends?”
At Valiant’s query, Chaim, Cupcake, and Sharp Shot all began to talk at once, shouting over one another in a flurry of anger-fueled words. Fleethoof covered his face with a hoof and shook his head. Adira rolled her eyes and smirked a little.
“You are a righteous pony, yet an idealist, Sergeant,” she complimented Valiant. “If only everypony thought in such a way. But that is the way of a perfect world—and ours is far from it.”
“You’re right, it isn’t,” said Fleethoof assent. “But we can make it a little better with what we do.”
“Not all problems can be solved with a bullet, Captain.”
“I have yet to find one that can’t be.”
Adira laughed, a soft and musical sound. “We will be in Oxford soon. Do you have a plan for once we arrive?”
Fleethoof nodded with a half smile. “We search the entire town till we find that missing soldier. Then we go after the renegades.”
On the opposite side of the car, Cupcake had begun checking his sidearm again, making sure it was clear, then locked and loaded. Valiant had turned to stare out the window at something. Out across the grasslands of southern Equestria, the old city of Oxford was drawing closer by the minute.
Fleethoof swallowed hard and gathered up his equipment, making his way toward the doors. Even though he knew Union wouldn’t be here, he couldn’t help the anxious tension he felt knowing he was hot on the trail of them. He wanted nothing more than to bring the lost ponies back home to Canterlot. Maybe he could talk the military cabinet to go easy on them, and give them dishonorable discharges and send them on their way. He did not want to see an execution, and he prayed there was a damn good explanation for their actions in Dodge.
Here we go… he thought. Luna protect us…
Oxford Station pulled up alongside them as the train slowed to a crawl. The brakes squealed, and then the doors flew open.