//------------------------------// // Decisions and Accusations // Story: A World Apart (Old Version) // by Star Scraper //------------------------------// The wind howled outside the tent. Amber Light lay awake in his sleeping bag. He had lost track of time, laying there, still. Whether it was hours, or minutes, it was always hard to tell, but it felt like an eternity that he lay, eyes closed, inviting rest and sleep, and both unwilling to come. We have orders, we must follow them. I must lead these ponies. This is the only way we'll be getting back to Bastion. Still... Is this a mission they should come on? Snowglade is so young. Why did she have to be so talented as to end up on this surveillance team? He mentally sighed. But the risk to their lives is worth it. I must never forget what must be done. One day we will achieve victory, and The Alliance's unicorn hunts will be over forever... But still... The memories flooded back with unwelcomed clarity. The ambush. The firefight. Waking up, and finding bloodied snow, and fourteen dead Alliance soldiers. His squad had fought valiantly, but against such numbers, it wasn't enough. Iron “Lucky” Star, a passionate and ambitious demolitions and electronics expert. He had talked about how he'd get to smelting and metallurgy when his service was over, how he'd continue the family tradition, and turn it into a large company. He was never content to be anything but the best, and despite his younger sister being a cripple, he was always proud of her. But now, he laid still in red snow, the cerulean sun patch torn from his uniform; doubtlessly some soldier had taken it as a trophy. Lucky had been true to his name, he was spared the fate his squadmates had met. Firelight, the eager-to-please and hardworking unicorn colt had been captured alive. He was full of promise, yet doubtlessly The Alliance would torture him before publicly executing him in their brutal, “Spectacular” manner, and later it was confirmed, and reported that he had disappointed the crowds by dying of blunt trauma from the stoning, before being hanged. He was so ambitious, yet his small frame had been something less than herculean. Morning Song, the ever-kind, ever-quiet unicorn medic from the Neophtes, Amber learned little about. Yet he knew that she had been nothing less than an angel to everypony around her. Somehow, fate had been kinder to her, and she was executed more traditionally at the Rocky Ridge Alliance military base. All of them had served heroically to the end, but one was left. Sergeant Light could well remember the interview back in the office in Bastion days later. The cold, ill-lit room, the desk his Commanding Officer sat behind, the calender turned to July 21st, 998, two days behind the actual date, July 23rd. The bookcase stocked with papers and folders, the two windows on the left with the shutters open, the little stain on the wall behind his CO, a steel-blue stallion with a silver mane. He remembered the look of concern and confusion his CO had as he spoke; “...The medical ward isn't sure about your ability to remain in action. Just say the word, Sergeant, and your tour of service is finished. You have a chance to honorably leave now. Most ponies would be thrilled for the opportunity you're being offered, and nobody would blame you after what you've been through. Your service has been invaluable, and you already have plenty of stories to tell. You'll be greatly respected even if you go back to a comfortable life now.” "Leave? I can't leave. They haunt me now. I can't rest. Leave and do what? Become a milkmare? I have to fight for them. Everbody dies some day, and the only way I can die at peace is if I die how I should've - in combat, alongside them. I would rather that than whither away in old age...” Only then can I join them again... They're the lucky ones, probably basking in a summer sun somewhere peaceful right now... I can't ever forget them. I will never know peace until I've died for their cause, as I should have so long ago. I must honor them, and live and die in apology that I lived, and they died. It's only fitting that I should die as they did. I owe it to them.  * * * Colonel Icewind sat at a small desk in a small brick back-room, talking to a messenger. After arranging some more orders and hearing reports, the messenger was on his way, leaving her alone with the door open. She looked down at a few papers, signed through them, then heard the door click closed. “Sal-u-tations, Colonel,” came a familiar, smooth and confident voice. “Evening, Chief Blade. What brings you here?” “Must we come down to business so quickly? Are you really that busy?” The Colonel looked up at the Blade. All of them had their appearance altered, to be as dark as night, though the chief always left the unique impression of a late evening sky, which made her star insignia all the more distinct. All of the Blades bore the insignia of the star, but only the highest officer adorned five additional honorary ones. “I was thinking maybe we could share a spot of tea, and maybe some biscuits, if I'm not less important to you than your busywork,” she finished. It seemed to be sarcasm, but was said with such a sincere voice that it almost left doubt. She gave the Blade an incredulous look. “I thought a Blade could never lie, but what's the difference between lying and sarcasm?” “Oh, but I was being sincere. It is possible to hurt a Blade's feelings. Just because we habitually set them aside doesn't mean we don't have any. What, I don't strike you as the sort you could have tea with? A far too common misconception, really. But I'm surprised you would fall for it, as you, yourself, had a spot of dinner this evening with a unicorn who thought she would be executed – and should have been. I would say that was an even less likely meal. Anyways, you should take my invitation as a very sincere flattery, Flitter, it means I think you're going to live for quite awhile. After all, I wouldn't go getting attached to a pony I thought would die soon.” It was unnerving to be called by her private name, and the whole dialogue left her with one ear pulled back and one eyebrow up. “And plus, how often do you just relax and have a nice spot of tea? I think tomorrow evening, you'll be dying for it – Figuratively, of course. So, how is your evening going?” Icewind sighed. Some Blades seemed to make a game of how cordial they could be with the highest and hardest-to-reach authority figures in The Order. The Chief seemed to be master of the game. “I'm busy. Governor Spectrum is out of her mind. This conference is important, but the dome's recently had three bombings, and near anarchy when a unicorn was swiped right in the middle of a spectacular mere hours ago, and she's still trying to not only make this conference, but she's even rushing the trains,” she spilled without a pause. “I suspect the Governor of insubordination to The Order.” A hard silence burst through room, flooding it with a thick air. The Colonel froze. Did... Did a Blade just make that accusation? Never in all my years... The Blade continued; “I recommend a trial of loyalty. One that will be straightforward enough. She seems to have grown particularly fond of a particular slave of hers. A slave who will be, to our fortune, on her train this evening...”  * * * A small band played smooth music along with an easy piano ragtime. Silverwing and Fiddler had a table of their own right next to one of the outdoor heaters. It was a relatively quiet night for the cafe. The calm, relaxing music fit nicely with the terrace's soft orange light. Below the dining terrace of the Trainstop Cafe, two armored trains weaved through a maze of tracks before turning away from the civilian station and stopping inside a military warehouse. While most places would have lost value for the rail traffic, an oddity of local weather kept the Trainstop notably free of any smell of fumes. Its proximity to the station made it an ideal layover stop for officials and other well-off ponies, though it was just far enough away that the sounds of passing trains gave it an endearing distinctness, rather than annoying its customers. All this earned it enough of an income to resume business the same day after a unicorn spectacular, all while keeping its small band employed. Not even the earlier unicorn escape would keep the Trainstop Cafe's doors closed, or its relaxing music from playing. Not when ponies of such importance had it as their regular stop. “You know, I don't get a lot of opportunities to eat at places like this,” Fiddler commented. “A shame, really. You're rather talented, I'd say. There's probably an even better place like this that could use your music,” Silverwing replied. Fiddler blushed and pulled her ears back. “A silver wing and a silver tongue, I see.” He chuckled. “Clever girl.” “I just got lucky, actually. I was just thinking of how silver-tongued you were earlier today at work.” “Convincing ponies is all about your own attitude. If somepony had said those exact same words, but with less confidence, we would've been searched.” “Silver...” “There's music here, and nopony's even out on the terrace except us. This hoity-toity crowd always prefers to eat inside. Anyways, I have to say -” He continued in a hushed tone; “That spectacular was... spectacular. It was like clockwork. In all my years I've never even heard of an operation quite like it.” Fiddler looked down, slouched, and her ears drooped. “It came at a price, though.” “Fiddler! Don't tell me...” “Rosewing was arrested, Silverwing. She's not going to make it.” The music kept playing as an uncomfortable silence came between them. A cold gust of wind blew, rustling their manes. Fiddler diverted her gaze even further. She hugged her left arm with her right hoof and slouched even further. “Silverwing...” She whispered. “Fiddler, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?” She started crying. “Silverwing...” she said harshly. “I'm so sorry, Fiddler, I know she meant a lot to you.” “But that's not it... Silverwing... Is it okay that I'm?...” She went silent. “What is it?” “Well... I'm more... I'm a terrible, terrible mare... She's my friend, I shouldn't think this.” He simply smiled. “You're a very honest pony, Fiddler. It runs in your family. Most ponies would probably think whatever you're thinking, but not even mention it. It's okay. What is it?” She looked up at him. She couldn't help but think of him as something closer than even a brother would've been. There was a bond in arms that civilians could never know. They had trusted each other with their lives many times, and continued to do so every day they remained Cerullean spies in the York dome. “Silverwing, I'm more scared for myself.” She cried. “I should be more scared for her. Why aren't I?” “It's perfectly reasonable to be scared, Fiddler. Whenever one of us are captured, we're all in jeopardy. Let's only hope she holds to her honor.” “But I'm still horrified that it's happened... I don't want to see her die. She's always played it so safe...” “Rosewing was a part of the team.” His gaze lowered. “Then why don't we save her?” Silverwing sighed and averted his gaze even further, taking a few moments to collect his thoughts before turning to her and replying. “We can't rescue prisoners, Fiddler. We don't have the means to rescue Rosewing, I'm sorry.” “But we just saved a unicorn!” She could barely keep her voice down. He sighed. “...Okay, we can. But at what cost? Rosewing isn't the only operative we've lost due to this operation or the months of planning leading to it. You remember what Autumn Rose's last mission was, right?” “How could I forget... I just... I don't want to keep losing friends. Surely we can do something?” “I can't tell you who, or how many, but lots of lives were lost for that one unicorn. It's not about saving the unicorn, there are other, more important reasons we did that operation. Life-for-life, a mission for Rosewing would put more operatives at risk than do good.” “And saving that unicorn didn't?” “No. Because it was vital for our war efforts. It was an intel mission, Fiddler. We had indications that important things were in that unicorn's head. I'm afraid I can't say any more.” Another long silence came over the two. A well-groomed stallion came out with their meals. “Quinoa salad with blueberries for the mare, and fruit crepes for the stallion. Enjoy your meal, and tell us if you need anything.” The waiter paused for a moment before leaving, noticing their solemn looks. He leaned in to the seated pegasus; “And monsieur, anything special for the lady?” “No, thank you... We're good.” “Very well, enjoy your meal.” He trotted away. Neither of them felt like eating. There was a long pause as they simply sat, food in front of them. “I just wish I could say goodbye...” Fiddler commented. Silverwing sighed. “We're going to start drawing attention if we don't eat.” Fiddler nodded. They began eating in an awkward silence. “There he is.” the pegasus said, looking through the windows to the indoor dining area. “If a train leaves while chef Gustav is here, we'll know it's the train the governor is on.” “Catching the governor by tracking the best chef...” Fiddler was still impressed from the briefing to this mission. Gustav was a great chef, but Liebnon was better, and they were the only two cleared to work on the governor's transport. Governor Spectrum would only be eating the finest chef's cuisine on her voyage. “If you could do this on your own, why invite me?” “Our cover story is a date, but who says it has to be just a cover story?” “I'm sorry...” She looked away again. “What is it?” “Well, I've been a bit of a lousy date... It's just... I don't feel like killing the governor anymore. I'm tired of killing and war. I wish it could all just end-” “More ponies coming to eat with us,” he cut her off. A party of rather prominent looking officers came onto the terrace, led by a waiter to a nearby table. Fiddler faced the floor again. “Fiddler, you're a great date. Just recent events have been kind of crazy is all...” She shot him a sad expression. He paused for a moment, collecting thoughts. “You put on shows, you know... The happy ending never comes in act one of a two-act play. Why would we go and make the time to see a play that had no conflict? No challenges for the characters to overcome? Really we're all just characters. We determine how we play our roles, but we don't always chose everything about them... One character may stab another character, may betray another... But once the play is over, and we all take our bows and walk off stage forever... We meet backstage, under a blue sky, and we're friends. We won't have to play our parts any more. No conflict. No killing. No betrayal and conflict... Just. Friends.” He took a sip of water before continuing; “Let's just hope we don't get caught up so much in the play, that we forget that. We will watch other characters get stabbed, and take their exits, or we, ourselves, may find our own exit at the hooves of another. But we must never hold a grudge off-stage, for what was done on-stage. And what we do is important, of course... We just shouldn't... be bothered too much about what goes on in the play. Aside from our own personal responsibility, It's just a play, and we'll meet backstage some day. Just commit yourself to doing the right thing all you can, and you may get a standing ovation, if you were valiant.” “I suppose so. I'm going to miss her, though...” The mare replied. “Of course, that's only normal. I miss a few of my own friends, Fiddler... But I just keep going and doing the best I can, the most good I know, and I know we'll meet again as friends backstage, when it's all done.” Far below, a train started rolling out of the military warehouse. “Well, let's get going... And... Just commit yourself to learning your part, and doing it right. After the show, that's all that'll really matter, after all.”  * * * A heavily armored train blew through deep snow in the gray abyss outside. An enormous snow-plowing front sent walls of powder spraying to either side as it blew down its snow-submerged tracks. The steel monster wore armor so thick that it took the appearance of a beast of concrete. Governor Spectrum stormed into her personal luxury car. Two servants were inside, one was filling a lamp with oil, and another fluffing a pillow. “Out! Get out!” The governor barked. They immediately fled. “Why are you running away with the oil!? Is the lamp full?” she snapped at one of the unfortunate maids. “N-no m'am.” “Then when I tell you to leave, leave the oil bottle so I can finish filling it. Now get out!” She held out a hoof. The maid gave her the small bottle and scurried off. Rainbow sighed. “Sorry.” She made no effort to make herself heard as she apologized to the servants. You're being such a raptor, Spectrum. I'm normally never this mean to servants. Ugh. Just not my day. She trotted back and finished filling the lamp. After setting the oil down on a small coffee table, she flopped onto a plush, luxurious red pillow set next to it. After relaxing herself, and listening to the hypnotizing, rhythmic clanking of the train tracks, she yawned and sat up again, slowly changing into a night gown. When she finished, she walked over to an intercom and clicked it on. “Kitchen, bring me the finest wine on this train. I don't even care what it is, just something good and relaxing.” “Order on the way m’am!” the intercom crackled back. She flopped back onto the pillow and rested her head on her forelegs. What a day. Committing treason for a pony from a series of dreams that a Blade ordered me to kill, holding a spectacular that insurgents stopped, dealing with the entire dome thrown into chaos and anarchy, all after multiple bombings, and finally getting rolled out to a “must attend” conference on the same day. She sighed again, closing her eyes, and letting herself fall victim to the hypnotic trance of the train's clanking. She started with her ears, and worked down her entire body, probing each muscle for tension, then relaxing them as far as she could. Maybe I've got some big decisions to make, but while I'm on this train, I have nothing to worry about. No big decisions to make, no civilization in the balance in my hooves... And most of all, no duties force me to get any more blood on my hooves here. Here, on this train, nopony dies. She breathed deeply and let it out with a sigh of relief. Here, nothing but peace, quiet, and the clanking of the train tracks. Here, I'm safe from duty. Here, I'm safe... Great Celestia, safe from it all at last, at least for a little bit, for now... She shot up as a knock on the door ripped her out of her rest. “Wine, m'am?” She grunted, landed, and walked over to the door. As her hoof grabbed the handle, she remembered how uncharacteristically rude she'd been to the maids. As she opened the door she let of a quick; “Thankyou” grabbed the wine, and closed it again. She froze as she realized she'd forgotten to grab the glass. Letting off a sigh, she decided she'd rather not approach the servant again, and after opening the bottle, took a sip straight from it as she walked to the coffee table again. As the drink was set down on the table, and her stomach on the pillow, she started thinking again. Fighting anarchists, calming the people with a charismatic speech, blaming the whole incident on a captured Cerullean spy, rallying the people together... It was all very rewarding, to think she was the sole reason Order remained in the York dome. She took another sip and sighed. I'm going to kill 'Twilight.' I don't even know if it is Twilight, or if it's some test of loyalty put on by the Blades. In any case, it'll be an act of mercy to send her to the world of grass and summer skies. Summer... To think those creatures have it so regularly. That at one point in our own history it came for months, every twelve. A warm sun, blue sky, and grassy fields. If only I could take your place, Twilight, and not be bound by duty to shed so much innocent blood... She took another sip. How selfish of me. How could I think to keep her in this horrible world? She doesn't belong here. Yet when ordered by a Blade to kill her, I pridefully and selfishly had her live. I got what I deserved when anarchy was stirred... She took yet another sip, this time punctuated by a yawn. But I can't make them pay. I can't. I must be loyal to them. They don't deserve to pay for my own inadequacies, and my failures to do what I'm sworn to... Since I was little, mom would tell me how she kept the ponies safe and warm against the cold outside. I saw how she held rallies full of ponies that adored her. There was nopony like her. Nobody could match her heroism in my eyes. I've always known I wanted to do what she did, to hold the very world together. I didn't fully understand what it meant when she told me that becoming a governor was a choice, and I would have to decide whether I wanted to feel good about myself, or if I wanted to serve The Order and be the hero she had been. Nothing could have prepared me. All those years where she gave me her time to teach me what she'd learned, how she taught me to be the best I could be. She kept teaching me how sometimes, doing what's right, would involve doing things I would abhor. And she lost enthusiasm after awhile. In later years she even regretted encouraging me to become governor. She apologized every time I asked her to talk to me again, and begged me to change my course in life. But how could I? After all those years, after adoring her so much for what she'd done, I wanted to be just like her. She would simply warn me that if I became a governor, ghosts would haunt me. I should've listened. I never could've known what it would actually be like. She sighed again, and took a large swig. But I'm in it now. I have a duty. Twilight must die. It is the right thing to do. And perhaps it's for the better. I really have kept order together in York. She was startled by her next thought. Celestia and Luna. The Stewardesses of this world. Rejected as our rulers. What kind of paradise could this world be if only we had allowed them to reign, as their parents intended? Some say their parents still control this world. I find it hard to believe. How could they, and let this happen? She became sharply aware of her guilt once more. Her gaze dropped to the floor. Though I suppose we really brought this on ourselves. And I suppose, perhaps, if the Wendigos really do bring winter, as the Ceruleans claim, it all comes full circle and makes sense. She looked upward. If you really are as amazing as some believe, then help me out of this. Kill me. Because if you are real, then it really must be the Wendigos, and all my soul I've given for my ponies... Has been in vain, to only perpetuate this winter. She shivered at the thought. There's no way it's true, though! Just a lie spread by the Ceruleans to justify their overthrow of The Order. It's all just a lie to empower them... Right?  * * * Fluttershy sat in her bunk as the train clacked along its tracks and the wind howled outside. She could feel its cold through the hard metal walls and the thin, worn mattress. The citizen slave car was still far better accommodated than the prisoner slave car. The citizen slaves mingled in the sleeper car, meeting each other and talking. Some even huddled together with blankets. At the end of the car, a small group laughed. Two guards sat on the other end, idly minding their own business. She decided to step out and look around the train car. “Goldenfeather, is it?” a particularly young slave asked as she approached her. “I thought I heard that name when they were boarding us.” “Uh-uhm, yes.” “I'm Snowfeather. I just... Thought it was funny. We both have 'feather' in our name.” The snowy-white pegasus chuckled. Fluttershy couldn't help but let a little giggle slip from the encounter. “So... Where are you from? Do you know where you're going?” the new pegasus pressed. “I'm from the York Dome, I work at the Governor's palace-” Snowfeather's eyes glistened in awe. “-and I'm not sure where I'm going. The Governor just brought me along.” She took a few steps to her bunk. “The Governor's palace? Is it really as grand as they say? That's so amazing! Wait... But isn't it dangerous to work there?” The white pegasus asked as she followed her to the bunk. “It is quite lovely. I love tending the gardens, there. And, well, just be a good pony and there's really not much to worry about.” “But it must be scary being around the Governor.” She set down in the isle as Fluttershy set down on her bunk. “Oh, she's not all that bad...” “How'd you end up there? Any secrets, tricks?” “Uhm... I don't know...” Goldfeather's face hid behind her pink mane. “Oh, well... Thanks. I'm just getting sent to the Rambling Rock Mines.” Fluttershy jumped with excitement, nearly hitting her head on the bunk above; “Oh, I've heard the officers tend lovely gardens, there! I heard there's even sunflowers!” Snowfeather smiled nervously. “Well, maybe. I'm not so excited, though.” She sighed. The pink-maned pegasus gave Snowfeather a confused look as she continued: “I'm just going to be a miner, working in the cold... Still, I'm glad I'm not going to have my wings clipped, or anything like that. One day I'll buy myself free again. One day.” Fluttershy's curiosity was piqued. “What do you plan to do, then?” “I don't know. But my brother was starving, and I had to sell myself so we could have enough to eat. Now I'll be fed as long as I'm doing this, but I didn't want him to have to go into slavery, or join the military. Neither of us wanted to become a killer. Well, I didn't want either of us to. But he thought he could make the world better by climbing through the ranks... You haven't heard anything about a pony named 'Clockwork' by any chance, have you? I sure hope he didn't have to join the military.” “No.” Flutters replied. Snowfeather chuckled again. “You're a bit of a quiet pony, aren't you? You don't talk very much, do you? I guess I can be a bit redundant when I talk, but you hardly say anything at all, do you?” She smiled, thought for a moment, then replied with a quick: “No.” They both giggled together. “You seem really sweet, though. I hope I get to have a friend like you when I get to the mines.” “But... You just met me.” “Well, I figure if I travel all the time I've got to get used to making friends with everypony, and you seem grade-A friend material.” She smiled. “Thank you.” The more timid pegasus returned the smile. “You bet... So, Goldenfeather, where do you hope to be in 5, maybe 10 years?” “Oh. Uhh... I don't know. Somewhere nice, maybe. I don't have much control of my life, really.” “I know that, silly goose! I didn't sell myself just yesterday. But just because you don't have much control doesn't mean you can't decide where you want to go. You may not be able to get what you want right away, but that doesn't mean you can't start taking small steps towards it. For example, I want to fly airplanes! That's mainly why I'm glad my wings aren't being clipped.” She nervously glanced at her wings. “But let's say I get a choice to work at an airfield or work in a dome. I could pick airfield to work towards that. And it never hurts to keep an eye out for ponies who might know a thing or two! If you keep hunting for good things, you'll find them eventually!” She grinned. “That sounds very nice. I'm just...” “You're?...” “I'm happy where I am.” Snowfeather's eyebrows shot up. “But what about ambition? Dreams? Don't you want to be more? To see more? To do more?” “Well... I'm just happy being with the governor. She's not a bad pony like other slaves think.” “Goldenfeather, I know you're happy, but that's no excuse to not have ambition or dreams. Ambition is all about-” The door at the end of the car burst open. Fluttershy instinctively ducked behind Snowfeather as the room went quiet. Colonel Icewind stood with four guards and proclaimed; “I require the citizen-slave 'Goldfeather.' She has been found guilty of high treason.”