//------------------------------// // Chapter VIII // Story: Relinquish the Sun // by Error732 //------------------------------// There were six of them, haggard and trembling, standing in the council chamber: three earth ponies, a unicorn, and two pegasus fillies. They had arrived only minutes ago, in a flying carriage guarded by a royal convoy. As soon as word had reached the capital, Celestia had ordered the survivors of the Salt Lick City Massacre brought before the council to tell their stories. The council, too, had raced to its chamber, somber and dutiful. The loss of an entire village, however remote, wounded all of Equestria. The guards had lowered the standards to half mast, then doubled their guards on all dignitaries and restricted areas. In the streets, the markets had closed, much to the protests of stockpiling citizens. Schools across the kingdom had gone on unscheduled holiday, and townships held vigils for the victims. Equestria had been violently woken from its dream. Citizens looked to Canterlot, keystone of Equestria, for support. Equestria looked to the council for leadership. And the council looked to the survivors for information. "Ponies of Salt Lick City," began Princess Celestia. The survivors began to kneel, but Celestia would not have it. "You owe me no gestures or tributes. I am indebted to you. I have failed you. As your sovereign, my first duty is to your welfare. The citizens of Salt Lick City have shown only unwavering loyalty, and I have repaid them with negligence that cost them their lives." Celestia knelt to her guests, who stood uncomfortably as the rest of those present did the same. She rose after a moment of silence, and continued, "I cannot ask you to pardon my failure, but I swear I will do everything in my power to prevent such tragedy from happening again." Some of the other leaders throughout the room shouted their agreement, though most retained a stony silence. The Salt Lick City ponies huddled together, the fillies crowding beside the unicorn while the earth ponies gave appreciative nods. Celestia ordered that the survivors be given room, board, and whatever else they desired for the duration of their stay. She knew that her orders would disappoint some of the less tactful council members, eager to interview the survivors for details of the attack, but she could force no further trials on them. As soon as the survivors had left, the council members reclaimed their seats, and Celestia opened the floor to discussion. Jet Stream jumped at the chance to speak. "It would dishonor the lost if we didn't learn something from their sacrifice. I don't know about you all, but I've learned this: we need military force. The dragons did this to show us they mean business. We need to strike back and show them we mean the same!" His posturing provoked a chorus of shouts, both of approval and dissent. "We know where to find them. We know who their leaders are. What more could we ask for in planning an assault?" "We also know what they want," yelled Boutonniere above the crowd, "so why not give it to them? All an assault will accomplish is the deaths of more ponies. I don't doubt the valiance of Equestria's fighting ponies, but consider that a single dragon leveled an entire town in minutes. As a warning! It's not a war we can win!" "They were civilians!" shouted a pegasus in Jet Stream's entourage. "They were taken by surprise," offered another. "Let's do the same to the lizards!" "If we surrender, we will likely starve," announced Rye Smile, coolly, "and if we fight, we will likely die doing so. Our choice, then, is between the risk of dying slowly and the risk of dying quickly. We have never before waged war on the dragons nor lived without the dawn and dusk rituals; we have no way to judge one against the other. None of us except perhaps the Princess, herself." She turned her attention to Princess Celestia, and others followed. "Equestria is not an empire. We have never waged war on our neighbors simply because we didn't get our way. My first goal as representative of Equestria is to ensure peace in our lands with words, not with swords. "But, as I have said, I failed today. And I must fail again, because there is nothing the dragons want that we can give them. And when they next come to take it, we will have no peaceful option. "Jet Stream. I hereby authorize your initiative for a standing airborne military task force. Project Wonderbolts can begin immediately under your supervision. "Boutonniere. Equestria will need to raise capitol as quickly as possible for the defense of its borders. I want you to organize the sale of royal bonds. We will discuss the details at a later time. "Rye Smile. Canterlot's hinterland is vast, and we will need all of it to feed our troops. I'm charging you with the organization of the supply trains for our military efforts. You may consult with Jet Stream for details. "No offensive action is to be taken until I give the word. For now, no pony leaves Equestrian lands. We are reinforcing; we are defending. May this be the last war we ever wage." The declaration of war extended its influence into every segment of society. Miners in Galloping Gorge worked long into the night to meet their climbing ore quotas. They piled the rocks they tore from the earth high in train cars, now guarded by royal decree. They passed joined heaps of grain and carrots en route to the cities, where public stockpiles gave quarter to the foodstuffs and Equestria's foundries smelted and forged the ore under heat and hammer. Smithies shaped much of it into armor and weapons, but a great deal, too, became railroad spikes, plows, axles, nails, shovels, and all manner of other goods in renewed demand. Equestria gorged itself on industry, the only plausible hope against the size, strength, and fire of dragons. Enlistment offices spread like scattered seeds, and in every city they grew long lines of able-bodied ponies. Stallions and mares of every shape and shade volunteered, committed to the notion that, when next the dragons came, they would be ready. The Salt Lick City Massacre could not happen again. The Wonderbolt project received all the priority Jet Stream could have wanted, and, to his credit, the nascent academy produced some of the fastest, most courageous flyers Equestria had ever seen. That the first graduates had appeared in only a few weeks led many to suspect that the project had begun somewhat before it was authorized, but, under the shadow of wartime, no pony complained. For their first mission, the Wonderbolts were tasked with ongoing reconnaissance; they flew in shifts over the northern mountains at high altitudes, watching and waiting. Deep underground, Zhuyin grinned with anticipation.