First Class, Minister of State, and the most important pony in the country for the next few hours, settled into her seat. She sat behind a great desk, and placed a briefcase beside a gavel on it. Beside her were two other seats, into which her advisors would sit. Her military advisor, Shining Armour, had been in the Crystal Empire during the treason, and never had any real connection to the Night Guard. As such, he was perfect to advise her on judging on the military side of things.
In the other seat would sit Trotsky, by demand of Parliament itself. He had no power, but his voice carried far and wide.
The room used to be used for dealing out judgement to students acting against the schools policies. A great desk curved around around a lofty seating area, and overlooked an enormous room. Below, across a wide space, a wooden podium stood for the accused. Behind that was a series of benches for an audience. The person taking the stand would be crushed by eyes from all directions.
First Class wore the new dress Rarity had made for her a few weeks ago, and she looked good. Today was a show for the media as much as anything, and she made sure they would see her at her best in all ways. She had a chance her to to discredit Trotsky, and make him look to be an extremist fool, if she played it right.
One of Wildcard's men was going to "accidently" push him into some mud outside as well.
All is fair, in love and war. First Class thought to herself. She smiled, thinking of the vain stallion covered in mud, as she sorted the papers on the desk. For the most part, she was secure in her judgement, and had gotten to the bottom of just how exactly the Night Guard had gotten to this point. Only a few details needed to be clarified, the most important of which was what Spitfire's role had been.
Mezza Luna had somehow acquired a state of the art bomber aircraft, and had used it to massive effect. Ponyville had been damaged severely, and she had been able to use it as a gun to Canterlot's head before it had been shot down. How she got a hold of it was a standing question.
If she stole it, then Spitfire failed to properly secure it.
If she was given it, then Spitfire may well be an accomplice.
Twilight Sparkle's role in the whole thing, and why she hadn't reported sighting the Magnificent during the week it was out in the bay, was another standing question. The obvious answer seemed to that she felt it best left unspoken, in case the Night Guard altered their plans. Even so, why hadn't she contacted Luna directly?
Most of the papers on the desk, which she read over again, were details of what had been found in the Night Guard facilities that 1st airborne had been liberating. They were decades old in some cases, and provided more evidence for the fact that Luna could not possibly have altered what had become inevitable. Twenty years ago is where the line was, beyond that some sort of confrontation was a certainty.
This raised the question as to just what happened twenty years ago, and First Class knew the answer. It was beyond the inquests role to investigate so far back, so she kept it to herself. Celestia's forgiving nature, and the abduction of a single child, had led the Night Guard on a militaristic crusade that only ended with its own destruction.
A butterfly that caused a hurricane. The Night Guard built a great military to crush the Changelings, and then when Celestia denied them that fight they became treasonous on high. They turned their hopes instead to beating Celestia herself with force of arms, and when Luna denied them that as well, they turned against the state itself. This all came to a head two weeks ago, and now she would deal out justice to those responsible.
The door creaked open, and an aide entered the room. She quickly darted up the stairs that led to First Class's lofty position overlooking the room, and produced a telegram.
"This came just now, it's a flash from First Airborne."
First Class thanked her, and took the note. She smiled to read it, as it meant the other side of her work was finally done.
F/M REPORTS SUCCESS --- ARCHER CAPTURED --- MEZZA LUNA LOCATION KNOWN --- LOCATION B SECURE ---
The end of it, however, dampened her joy.
--- 50% CASUALTIES ---
It was still a success, even if it came with a price. Location B was the final hold-out, and had taken the better part of last week to find. The most elite unit that 1st Airborne had was sent in after it. Two ponies, the best they had, in the hopes that they could capture Archer before he could once again escape. They had succeeded, and he would soon be brought to Canterlot in chains.
Location B was also, as near as they could tell, a research facility for something only known as the "Mirror Project". First Class was anxious to know what it really was, but other matters took precedence.
Shining Armour arrived some time later, and strode into the room with a great smile on his face.
"Hey kid, you did it! I got the news myself just now, we finally caught that monster."
First Class smiled.
"One out of three, Prince Armour, one out of three."
Shining Armour took his seat, and swung a briefcase of his own on the table.
"Just Shining, unless there's reporters around. Now, what did you need me for today?" He asked, and removed some documents from it.
"I need you to make sure that testimony on military issues is accurate, and truthful. I may know a bit about our armed forces, but I certainly know less than you. If any of my information is inaccurate, tell me."
Shining nodded.
"I'll do what I can."
"Say..." Shining said, and sat back in his chair.
His eyes seemed to undress First Class, as they took her in from the bottom up.
"...That's a good look for you."
First Class laughed, and rolled her eyes.
"Shining, we're both married, you know that."
Shining smiled, "We are, but Cadence and I..."
First Class waved a hoof to cut him off, "If you say "have an open relationship," you're going to have an open relationship with the door."
Shining laughed, deepily and heartily, at the threat.
"How did a mare like you fall in love with a changeling like that? You're one of a kind First Class, one of a kind."
First Class let it pass, and watched as another entered the room. A stallion, with an almost neon-yellow coat, with a brown hat and brown suit. He took a spot in the front row of the audience seats, well behind the witness stand, and looked up to them.
"Mornin'," he said.
"Good morning," First Class replied.
This reporter, Comic Sans, was chosen specifically because his career was at this point in the toilet. This inquest was the perfect opportunity for a reporter with delusions of greatness to create a circus, and try to make a name for themselves. This pony was well beyond trying to that, and could be trusted not to cause a stir. He was the only media representative allowed, the rest of the seats would be occupied by the town mayors, and others in positions of power.
Shining Armour leaning over, "Are you sure about this guy?" he whispered.
"The media has a right to be here, thankfully I can define what media means," First Class whispered back.
For the next half hour the town mayors slowly streamed in, and begun to talk amongst themselves. First Class made herself look busy, flipping through her papers as Shining Armour did the same.
Eventually, a few minutes before the inquest was scheduled to start in earnest, Trotsky ambled in, looking rather unkempt. His suit, which looked to be rather expensive, was covered in mud.
"What's wrong, Trotsky, get lost?" First Class teased.
Trotsky glared up at her, and took the long way around to his seat.
"Some damn thug attacked me in the street, if I didn't know better I would say he had it out for me."
He slunk into his seat, and First Class stifled her laughter with great effort.
"The streets aren't safe, Trotsky. All sorts are out there, stirring up trouble. Why, it seems there's a protest every week now."
First Class waved her hooves in the air, and the room seemed to notice their discussion.
"You know all about that though, don't you?"
"The people have a right to gather, and protest, against the foolish actions of our government," Trotsky returned.
"And when shops get burned, Thestrals are found beaten, and ponies find themselves cleaning up your mess?"
Trotsky shrugged.
"The price of progress."
First Class was rather satisfied, and let the matter drop. She took a quick scan over the room, noticed that all that should be there, were.
It was time to begin.
First Class banged her gavel, and the room silenced.
"Order! I call this inquest to order. I will first make a short speech to inform you all of what I have learned, and then I will call the remaining witnesses to the stand."
She paused, and moved a paper to the forefront as the audience gave her their attention.
In that audience all four princesses, Air Martial Spitfire, and every single town mayor looked up at her.
"I speak before you today, after a terrible tragedy had befallen our nation, to give you the truth. I have spent two weeks investigating the events leading up to that dark day, and the events themselves. I dug deep, I spoke with many, and I will deliver my judgment before you today. First, however, there are a few unanswered questions. Owing to their positions, there are a few of you that I have not been able to speak to yet. I shall call the first of you now," First Class spoke.
"Air Martial Spitfire, please take the stand."
Spitfire made her way out of the audience, and took her place before the podium. She was dressed in her Wonderbolt's uniform, and had all her badges and medals on her chest. She came to attention, and stuck out her chest.
"Air Martial Spitfire, when this war began you were given the bulk of the old Night Guard military hardware. The most grand acquisition was the Magnificent, and it's fleet of ten advanced bomber aircraft. Is that not correct?"
"That is correct."
"Good. Ten advanced bomber aircraft. One was lost at Waylay Island, leaving you with nine. Explain to me, and all of us here, how Mezza Luna managed to get one for herself."
"Mezza Luna threatened to withhold the heat-seeking missiles that the Night Guard had been tasked to create. Her ultimatum, given to me weeks before Waylay was even planned, was that I either give her a Phoenix, or she would delay the shipments. I could not allow that, it would have cost Wonderbolt lives."
"So, instead you made a decision that cost civilian lives?"
"Damnit, it wasn't like that at all!" Spitfire shouted.
First Class peered down at her, unfazed.
"We were on the same side at the time! I had no idea she was going to use it against civilians, I had thought she had her own plans against the Griffons!"
"A fair enough point, I could not expect you to see the treason that escaped the notice of the rest of us. So, then, the question becomes; why did you not tell Queen Luna, or any others in the chain of command, of this deal?"
"Mezza Luna was too close to the Queen. She would have had my head if I dared make an issue of it. Tell me, if Queen Luna had been forced to choose between her, and me, which would she choose?"
First Class thought about it for a bit. Spitfire was right, she had been stuck between an orbiting rock, and a traitor.
She turned to Shining Armour, who noticed her and glanced over himself.
"Could the Wonderbolt's not have made the missiles themselves? Why was the Night Guard in charge of all that?" She asked.
"They always had been. Research and development of advanced weaponry, for whatever reason, was in their jurisdiction. Spitfire made the right call, in my opinion. Regardless of the consequences, she did what she had to at the time."
First Class nodded, and turned back to the room as a whole.
"I have heard enough, and I find you innocent of any malice, or responsibility. While I question the wisdom of your actions, they were made in a time of uncertainty, and I cannot find blame for how you acted. You are dismissed."
Spitfire finally released her breath, and strode away from the podium. Apparently done with the whole affair, she left the room itself.
"Don't I get a say?" Trotsky asked.
First Class sighed, and turned to him.
"What would you have said?" she asked.
"I would have pointed out how convenient it was that Spitfire has effectively removed any armed opposition she might ever face, if she decides that she is a better leader than the civilian government. That fleet of hers is quite impressive, you know."
First Class rolled her eyes.
"We're not here to decide who's loyal or not, only who bears responsibility for the tragedy. Mind your place, or you'll lose it."
First Class banged her gavel hard enough to drown out his protest.
"I now call Princess Twilight Sparkle to the stand, please."
Twilight looked to Celestia, whom nodded at her. Then she teleported herself down the stand with a flash, and looked up at First Class.
"Princess Twilight Sparkle, we owe you a debt of gratitude for your work creating the shelters that saved so many on that dark night. Nonetheless, I still have some questions for you. To begin, let us go back nearly a month. You apparently found the Magnificent while working on a prototype for new technlogy along the coast, correct?"
"I did, yes." Twilight replied.
"Why did you not tell Queen Luna? Perhaps, with this knowledge, she could have acted differently. Hiding information from the sovereign is treason, you know."
Twilight shuddered, and First Class felt the icy glare of three other Princesses fall on her. Just part of the job.
"I wasn't asked."
"I don't accept that answer."
"I..."
Twilight took a deep breath.
"I didn't think I could trust her. It looked... at the time... like Nightmare Moon was coming back. I chose to stay with the ship, and continue working on my radar. I stand by that choice."
First Class again turned to Shining Armour.
"If Luna had known, is there any chance the Magnificent could have been used differently? Perhaps, have it moved closer?"
He shook his head, "Mezza Luna would have known. It would have spoiled everything. Frankly, I think Twilight was right to hide it. It all depended on surprise, I was certainly surprised."
First Class turned back to the purple alicorn.
"Very well. Your feelings were shared by a great many in the government, and military. It was, after all, Luna's own Night Guard that laid siege to Canterlot. Nightmare Moon did indeed greet us that night as well. I find you not responsible, and clear you from any charges."
First Class banged her gavel, and a very relieved Twilight Sparkle turned to return to her mentor.
"Hey, hold on a second!" Trotsky yelled, and shot up out of his chair.
"You were on the Magnificent that night, and you have access to almost everything as a Princess. What if you two were working together? You've risen quite high over the last year, perhaps it's not high enough for you!"
Twilight turned back, and angrily scowled up at him.
"Are you accusing me of being behind this?"
"I am, yes. All of you alicorns are never satisfied. I can't really blame you, it's just who you are," he sneered, "Simply can't be trusted with power, that's all."
"Are you accusing me of being behind this?"
"I am, yes. All of you alicorns are never satisfied. I can't really blame you, it's just who you are," he sneered, "Simply can't be trusted with power, that's all."
"Simply ca-"
First Class banged her gavel, and silenced them both. "That's enough of this. We are not here to determine who and who can't be trusted with power. If we were, I doubt you would be happy with the result."
In the audience, the reporter Comic Sans coughed and raised a hoof. "Madame Minister, if I could interject? I understand that there must be some scope of investigation regarding this inquest; however, if Mr. Trotsky has evidence of these accusations, then wouldn't that fall within that realm?"
The mare shot a look at the journalist. "What do you mean?"
"I simply thought you would want to get the evidence supporting those accusations on record with the general public." Comic looked back to Trotsky.
The businessman looked a bit uncomfortable. "Well, you understand, my statement is based more on an understanding of the pony psyche, the desire for the acquisition of power, rather than any specific evidence. But..."
The reporter interrupted. "So then your evidence is of a more philosophical nature? You don't have any tangible evidence to back up your claim?"
Trotsky stared with confusion and shook his head as Comic smiled a bit cheekily at the businessman. "Just to point out, Equestrian legal code - I believe it's section 23, paragraph E of the Equestrian Accords - states that in times of war, accusations of treason against the military or the monarchy, without a minimum body of evidence supporting those accusations is, in fact, a criminal act in itself. I dare say you look like a pot, calling a kettle black; except in this case, the kettle can have you shot. Do you have any comments on that, Mr. Trotsky? Or should I talk to you after this inquiry?"
"What? Criminal? Preposterous! This is exactly the sort of privileged nonsense that..."
First Class again cracked her gavel on the desk. "Quiet! I think your point is made, Mr. Sans. I'm sure that Mr. Trotsky was aware of that law, and didn't intend his theories as actual accusations. Nonetheless, I suggest we keep that in mind as we move on." Both the reporter and Trotsky nodded, the latter looking both indignant and uneasy. "I have one last witness. Princess Celestia, please take the stand."
Celestia strode down, her chin held high, and stood behind the podium.
"Princess Celestia, without you Equestria would not exist, and without you any number of terrible menaces would have destroyed it. You are the greatest leader in our history, and each and every one of us owes you everything we have. Even so, you are not perfect. Under you, the Night Guard grew militaristic, and outgrew their bounds. Under your watch, their leader turned treasonous. You did nothing while they increased their military, and allowed them almost carte blanche in how they operated. Princess Celestia, why did you not act to prevent this?"
Celestia sighed.
"I did not have the heart. I was so used to joy, friendship, and peace; that a heart as cold as Mezza Luna's seemed alien to me. I didn't see it coming because I couldn't even consider this- any of this! This war, this treason, it's as if I have spent the last year locked in a spiral of terror, and no way of stopping it. History has outrun me, and I'm sorry."
First Class, suddenly, felt a deep sadness. She felt for Celestia, the great leader brought so low, and wished she didn't have to do what she did.
"I am sorry too," she said.
"Princess Celestia, I find you personally responsibly for allowing the conditions that led to this tragedy to exist, yet I cannot blame you. It was the very aspects of your character, and your very nature, that allowed it to happen. If you had been able to prevent it, you would not be the same leader that Equestria had loved for a thousand years. The only truly responsible person, I find, for the bloodshed of that night, is Mezza Luna. The blood is on her hands, and no others. The conditions that allowed for her ascension were conditions of peace, friendship, and tranquility. I cannot fault you for creating those conditions, but I can fault her for abusing them to further her own twisted plans. It was her treason, and only hers."
She paused, to collect her breath, and then continued.
"The truth of the matter is that the Night Guard has planned this for twenty years, and there is nothing anybody could have done to stop it past that point. If Queen Luna had acted, this would have happened earlier. If any others had, they would have simply been crushed," She said, and turned to Shining Armour.
"Field Martial Shining Armour, you have knowledge of the military. Tell me, could the Legion have stood up the Night Guard, conventionally, if it had chosen?" First Class asked.
"Yes, and no. We outnumber and outgun them, but they had key positions. No matter what we did, it was bound to end up being a mess. I stand behind what Queen Luna chose, despite the fact that I myself was used a pawn in it. It was a tragedy, but there was no way around it." Shining Armour replied.
"Then there you have it. The events of two weeks ago were written twenty years ago, and no power in this nation could have stopped them. What happened, has happened, and we can only move on now and learn from it. It is the opinion of this inquisition that the Night Guard be totally stripped of any military authority, it's resources transferred to other agencies, and those that had commanded it, with the exception of Malgavian, are guilty of treason. Only two of them remain outstanding, Archer and Mezza Luna. The rest of the Night Guard I find clear of charges."
First Class banged her gavel, one final time, and slumped back in her seat.
It was done. She had just accused the greatest leader in their history of being responsible for allowing the worst tragedy in their history to happen, entirely because she had created a society of peace and happiness.
And it was true.