PORTAL AUTHORITY COMMAND LOG
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Portal Authority Fortification Eta Rho Q, Commander Bold Charge
Personal Log, Tenth day of 3rd Thunderbird, 523, GA
Fort Quiver is quiet today. We received word from the Eranax Relay Team (see Tapper Dispatch DCKQ9347) regarding the fate of Captain Hard Trail's expedition. The troops are taking it hard. I've ordered a squad of guards out to escort Specialist Kinlafillia and Corporal Caster back to the fort. Orders received from up-chain today mandate the withdrawal of all exploration teams. The diplomatic section from Fort Albatross is still a week's march away. Until then, we're to hunker down and keep from starting a war.
I just pray to the Creatrix it's not too late.
Twilight Sparkle trotted down the main hallway of Ponyville General Hospital, the words of the princess still echoing in her ears.
“We are afraid we must ask you to leave your brother's side. He's out of danger now, the wound's been closed, he should be out of the hospital in a few days. His side is the place of thy sister-in-law. Your mission from our sister must be attended. Shale Hearth deserves to know what has happened.”
The door creaked open in response to the purple aura. Twilight stepped carefully into the room, treating each spot as though it was going to explode if she laid a hoof wrong. The room's occupant looked up. A smile of recognition spread across Shale's features, causing pangs of guilt to run through Twilight's stomach.
She kept the explanation quick and to the point. As the words rushed out, the crystal on the nightstand translated, and the clipped language from Epona sounded harsh and angry against the softer tones of Twilight's Equestrian. Shale's face fell with each passing phrase, until her bangs hung down far enough to obscure her eyes. Shale Hearth didn't say a word throughout.
“...There was only one survivor, and he's going through spasms that are preventing the doctors from helping much. Princess Luna said she was going to try something.”
With nothing left to say, Twilight stopped speaking, and a deep silence fell.
Eventually, Twilight broke it.
“Shale? Is there anything I can do?”
The Eponan's reply was barely audible. The crystal paused for several seconds before offering a translation.
“Get out.”
Twilight tilted her head, straining to hear.
“Pardon?”
Back came the rebuttal, louder this time, but still below the volume of normal conversation.
“I said get out.”
Twilight just stood there in shock. It was several seconds before she found her voice.
“I don't understand.”
Shale turned to face the Twilight, tears streaming down the Eponan's face, anger stamped upon the her features like an ugly brand.
“I didn't know them well. I was only part of that team for a few months. But they were my friends, and I could do nothing to help them as they died. I wish to mourn them. In peace. So there is something you can do. GET. OUT.”
Twilight's peripheral vision caught a movement. The translation crystal was levitating, and a small, primitive part of her brain screamed about the aberration of something flying without wings or an aura. Fight-or-flight instinct took over, and purple hair whipped about as Twilight wheeled and fled, pursued by a hurled gemstone. She was only just able to slam the door shut before the geologic projectile impacted the stout timbers.
Fire burned behind Twilight's eyes for an instant. Who was this mare to yell at her? Twilight had lost things too. Her own brother had been seriously wounded in the opening salvo, which the Eponans had started! She started venting as well, tears of anger flowing unashamed as the words came fast and furious.
A more rational portion of Twilight's mind noted that the stoccato bursts of Shale's language were going untranslated. That rational portion would later wonder if it was the impact or Shale's telekinesis that had disrupted the spell. For a while though, the thinking part of Twilight Sparkle took a back seat as she yelled back. It would be a while before quiet was restored to the hospital, as Equestrian and Eponan gave incoherent voice to their rage.
Arcane Bolt was a mess. He had been very busy over the past forty-eight hours, and the rigid authority figure he usually cut was roughed about by the fact that he hadn't showered or shaved in that time period. His senses were dulled by a continued throbbing in the back of his head, and he could tell he wasn't reacting to things as quickly as normal.
Such was the degree of his fatigue, he didn't even notice the extra pony in his office until the door closed behind the interloper. It was a solid door, built to be as ornate as it was robust, and as such its beauty would have dazzled any student of art or architecture, and its impervious nature was emphasized as it shut with a sound thud.
The visitor didn't say anything at first. His eyes shifted back and forth, probing every nook and cranny of the room. Arcane followed the survey with his own gaze, taking in the wooden panelling and relatively modest carpet that adorned his own small portion of the Canterlot Castle before returning to the pony. A nasal voice, which sounded like it was accustomed to being obeyed, broke the awkward silence.
"Could you lift that paperweight?"
One of Arcane's eyebrows rose. It was not a particularly strenuous request, but the brusque delivery, devoid of any respect or deference, galled the marshall. Nevertheless, he focused on the indicated object and his orange aura easily levitated it. Arcane kept his gaze on the interloper, although his mind drifted to the paperweight. It was a quartz crystal, a gift from the Empire when he had been introduced to his opposite number from the ancient northern power. The thing was too impure to use as a spell focus, and instead carved into a sphere with a lens cut off the bottom to keep it from rolling. The marshall briefly entertained a very unprofessional fantasy, one of mashing the paperweight into the rude individual's face. Instead, he placed it back on top of the stack of reports it had been keeping stationary.
With temptation cast aside, Arcane regarded his visitor.
The intruder was an earth pony, about as unathletic as Arcane had ever seen a member of that breed, with a drab gray coat and electric-blue mane. His cutie mark appeared to be a hat made out of some sort of metal. Considering his pronounced muzzle, unkempt facial hair and buck teeth, a pony more given to metaphor than the Marshall could have compared the interloper to some sort of rodent of unusual size. He was shoving his snout through a folder, muttering to himself.
"Orange. Yes, that checks out."
Arcane's eyebrow remained cocked at a nonplussed angle.
"And you are?"
The interloper's nasal voice replied without the snout responsible leaving its folder.
“Just checking to make sure you aren't a changeling sir.”
Marshall Bolt's eyebrows both dropped, painting his face with a scowl.
“I meant your name.”
The earth pony in question stiffened at that, pulling his face out of his file and standing at a rather sloppy imitation of attention.
"Hat, sir. Tin Hat. As director of the Celestial Intelligence Service, I'm in charge of the spy business, and you are my direct superior. I was recently appointed to replace Black Dossier."
Recognition dawned in Arcane's eyes, and he narrowed them as he replied.
"Ah, yes, I remember now. I've been up analyzing our latest encounter with these Eponans. I seem to recall an incident with the one currently quartered in Ponyville that was your responsibility?"
Director Hat shifted a bit, his discomfort evident.
"Indeed, that was a blunder on my part. I had been monitoring the reports coming out of my agents in the area, and when the Eponan demonstrated abilities beyond normal for the Earth Caste, I became concerned. The office of the Princess okayed my plan, and I ordered my agents to bring the Eponan in. It was the wrong call, although to be fair Cloak and Dagger took my instructions to take her for questioning and analysis farther than I had intended."
Arcane scowled. If Director Hat had been a military officer, he would have received a drill-sergeant-style tirade on taking responsibility for the actions of his subordinates. As it was, this probably wasn't the whole truth, but it was likely all he'd get from the slightly slimy and paranoid-looking intel director. In lieu of upbraiding him, the Marshall simply fixed Director Hat with a glare that would have done its best to turn a basilisk to stone.
The intel pony stood there wilting for a bit before shaking his muzzle and speaking.
"I thought it best to give you this report in person. You never know who's watching.”
Tin Hat placed an object on the desk, which Arcane levitated up in his aura. It was made of metal, and its dull gray surface cast a sheen like polished sword steel. It was obviously cleaned regularly. The most distinguishing feature of the thing was a cylinder encased in a robust-looking metal frame. One of the more prominent features of this frame was the short, stubby metallic tube projecting off at a right angle. A handle of some sort, consistent with ones on griffon tools, although smooth and lacking any grips, extended downward from the frame holding the large cylinder.
"This is the personal weapon we found on the Eponan currently residing in Ponyville. My liason with the Rangers, who providentially was present at the cockatrice incident, requisitioned it for immediate analysis. Contrary to speculation, it's not an arcane device or similar magical channel for casting thunderbolts. It is an entirely mundane device. It's like a miniature cannon. These cartridges are what it fires.”
More unusual artifacts landed onto Arcane's desk, tubes of metal this time. The brass that made up most of each tube scattered the ambient light and clinked quietly like dropped coins.
“They contain the gunpowder, or some similar substance, as it doesn't quite smell like gunpowder. I've got our top alchemists analyzing it. That bit of metal on the tip is the cannonball. There must be some kind of flint or similar device in the weapon to set the whole thing off.”
Arcane continued examining the contraption, although his eyes narrowed in concentration. Cannons were impractical weapons of war at best. They were shorter ranged and less accurate than battle spells, and they reloaded so slowly it was more practical for the Earth Legion to throw sling bullets and buck projectiles than try to maintain any number of bombards. Moreover, they couldn't out range a mage of any sort, be they Unicorn, Griffon, Canid or Dragon, and the blasting powder necessary to make them work was very vulnerable to premature activation by a stray fire spell or neutralization by the most rudimentary drizzle.
Although it served to launch fireworks for celebrations and the like, gunpowder in general was regarded with disdain by all serious strategists. Arcane Bolt was a very serious strategist. As such, the contempt was heavy in his voice as he replied.
“So?”
Tin Hat showed strong emotion for the first time, his face aghast at the Marshall's casual reply.
“So? Lord Marshall, this changes everything. These 'Hoof-Cannons', to use the term one of the testers coined, give them battlemage-level offensive capabilities at range. There is no amount of armor that would provide protection from a volley of such cannonfire. I would know, we tested it on a Legion carapace. We'd need to cover every single trooper in shield enchantments just to keep them from dieing en-masse, and you know how rare crystals pure enough to make spell accumulators are. We'd never be able to get enough gems from the Empire, even if they are literally made of the things. We'd have to start buying from the Canids.”
The Marshall's scowl deepened, although it was not Tin Hat's fault this time. Relations with Equestria's south-western neighbor were not as amicable as they could be. A recent war with the Lapines had not gone well for either side, and now both blamed Equestria for not joining on their side. The fact that the bipedal dog-like race needed gems for their own magical purposes, and valued them even more highly than Equestrians, would likely drive the price of any purchase up even further.
Arcane Bolt shook his head. No. He needed to concentrate; deal with the matter at hoof.
“Who knows?”
As the conversation swung back to intelligence, Tin Hat returned to his usual nasal self.
“We've kept the knowledge of these weapons need-to-know. Even the ponies that were hit with them think this and the weapons like it are some heretofore unknown magical device, like a Griffon rune wand or Canid war mace.”
Arcane grunted.
“Good. See to it that remains the case. We don't want to panic more ponies than necessary.”
Upon hearing that, Director Hat nodded and turned to leave. Arcane watched him go, before his fatigued mind brought up a concern from earlier.
“One more thing. Ambassador Sharptalon concerns me. He's no fool, in fact his mind is as keen as his name implies his talons are. Have your agents keep an eye on him. Make sure the Griffons know nothing of this. The last thing we need is for the Eastern Kingdoms to get involved before the Princess is ready.”