//------------------------------//
// Chapter 34: General Attitude 
// Story: Brother Against Sister 
// by CartsBeforeHorses 
//------------------------------//

“...And then the mare says to him, ‘Sure thing! You seem like a down-to-earth kinda guy.”

The apple family burst out laughing at Pound Cake’s joke, with Applejack slapping her knee. Aunt and Uncle Orange silently sighed at such dinnertime conversation, but didn’t bother to say anything. 

There was a loud banging at the door, making the Apples and Pound turn towards it. The banging continued, and was now interspersed with the sound of splintering wood. Small cracks appeared in the gorgeous mahogany door, next to the handle, as the banging became louder and more frequent. Finally, a single crimson hoof burst a hole through the door. The handle glowed blue as it unlocked and opened, and in stepped a crimson unicorn stallion with a navy blue mane and eyes, wearing a ski mask and holding a pistol in his magic.

“Down on the ground, everypony!” he commanded in a gruff voice.

The family panicked, all falling to the floor next to the dinner table as the masked stallion approached. Pound’s ears jolted up as the unicorn cocked the gun and pointed it squarely at him. He jumped as Applejack flipped up from the floor, turned around, and bucked the dinner table over at the unicorn with a tremendous kick that cracked like a whip. 

The unicorn ducked as the table flipped over him and smashed against the back wall, food and drink splattering everywhere. The table wrenched the gun out of his grasp, which fired off a single shot. There was a crash as the bullet shattered the large dining room window overlooking Manehattan below. Ponies down on the city streets cried out in shock as broken glass rained down on them. 

The stallion desperately eyed the room for his gun, his head shifting from side to side, but he couldn’t find it. Instead, he bolted over to Pound Cake, and a blue field surrounded Pound as he felt his wings being strained, contorted, and pushed in every which direction.

“Aah!” he cried in pain, desperately trying to wrench free of the telekinetic force and resist his wings being broken.

“Nope!”

The unicorn flew out the broken window after a swift kick from Big Macintosh, who had snuck up behind him.

Quickly flexing his wings and finding that the unicorn hadn’t done any damage to them, Pound Cake took off through the window to try to catch the still-falling burglar. He flew as fast as he could, the cool night air rushing through his mane, but a flash surrounded the falling unicorn’s body, and he disappeared out of thin air.

Pound cursed, turned around, and flew back through to the penthouse window, where Applejack and Granny Smith were gazing out, watching. Aunt Orange was sitting on the ottoman crying, and both Winston the butler and Uncle Orange were consoling her. Big Macintosh was on the telephone.

“He’s callin’ the police,” said Applejack.

Granny Smith sat in a chair, staring off through the window, shaking her head.

“Darned robber,” she cursed.

Pound Cake sat down, too. He was still shaking from the adrenaline as his thoughts raced. Despite everything he had been through: the battles, attacks, and sabotage acts, he’d never just been in a plain old burglary before. Of course, he and Pumpkin had burgled before at the armory, but he’d never been on the receiving end. 

Though that didn’t seem like an ordinary burglary. The stallion didn’t even try to get any valuables. Instead, he seemed to be directly targeting Pound Cake. Indeed, he had tried and failed to break his wings.

It almost seemed to Pound to be an assassination attempt. He had survived several attempts on his life recently. Sometimes, ponies would take a shot at him while he was flying by on a city street in Manehattan, but they all missed. The shooters might have been Second Kingdom agents or sympathizers, or they could have just been the usual garden-variety crazies who targeted any celebrity or pony in the public eye; he didn’t know. 

Pound had started wearing body armor whenever he went out in public, but didn’t think that he needed to wear it at a private dinner gathering at the Oranges’ fiftieth story penthouse. After all, it was a really nice place, and though he may have been followed up to the front doors from the street, he surely hadn’t been followed through the halls inside, since he’d been looking out for tails. So how did the stallion find him? Was Derpy followed back from the Second Kingdom?

She is awful clumsy sometimes, he thought. The assassin may very well have followed Derpy back without her even realizing. That, or he just used whatever methods at Derpy’s own disposal to find Pound Cake. Pound had thought that his itinerary was a closely-guarded secret, but maybe it wasn’t. He would have to talk to Featherweight about that. Also, he would have to hire a bodyguard. Maybe Bulky Biceps would be up for the job.

There was a knock at the destroyed penthouse door. Winston opened it, and in walked two Manehattan police officers, a mare and a stallion. They wore light blue uniforms, long black ties, and octagonal police hats. Both were pegasi, and both had tan coats and black manes. As with the Royal Guard, big city police often dyed their manes and coats to look alike.

“So, this is the site of the burglary?” said the policemare. 

“Yes,” said Uncle Orange.

Her partner nodded, getting out a notepad and scribbling some information down. 

“I’m officer Killarney, and this is me partner, officer Reinstein. You know, we don’t normally get break-ins on this side of town. It’s quite a nice area,” the policestallion said. He was tall and spoke with a whimsical-sounding foreign accent that Pound couldn’t quite place.

Over the next few minutes, the Apples and Pound Cake relayed as many details about the robbery as they could remember, down to the description of the stallion, Applejack’s table-bucking, and the stallion’s telekinetic attack on Pound Cake.

“I think it was an assassination attempt on me, instead of a burglary,” said Pound Cake.

The policestallion and mare both laughed. 

“This has all the hallmarks of a burglary,” said the policemare. “The ski mask, the door breaking, angrily ordering everypony down on the ground: that’s what robbers do. I know you’re a celebrity, Mister Cake, but not everything revolves around you. When he attacked you, the burglar was probably just trying to disable the pegasus who could have flown off and alerted the police before he finished ransacking the place.”

“It would have been pointless, since we have a telephone. Though the burglar likely wouldn’t have figured that, since we’re one of the few families that can afford a house phone yet,” said Uncle Orange.

“This is a very rich penthouse, after all,” said Aunt Orange. “Perhaps the burglar believed he could have gotten our diamond jewelry or rare vases.”

Pound Cake nodded. Maybe it really was a burglary, and he was just being paranoid after having to dodge bullets in the street.

“Gutsy burglar, methinks,” said the policestallion. “We patrol the nice area of town more than the slums, so the crooks don’t usually target rich folk. If they do, we almost always catch them. That is, so long as the victims cooperate.”

“Speaking of,” said the policemare, walking over to Aunt and Uncle Orange. “We’ve been at this crime scene for an awful long time, haven’t we, Killarney?”

“We certainly have, Reinstein,” said Killarney. “I was thinking about leaving to get some doughnuts.”

“You’ve been here five minutes,” said Granny Smith flatly.

“Our investigation here is concluded for now,” said Officer Reinstein.

“But you didn’t even take a look at the pistol that the stallion dropped here! You haven’t looked for hoofprints or interviewed anyone out in the hallway who might have seen him walk up,” Pound Cake urged.

“Why don’t you leave the detective work to the police,” the policemare replied, rolling her eyes.

Officer Killarney walked up to Aunt and Uncle Orange. He smiled and said, “Of course, we’d love to stay and investigate more, but we don’t get paid nearly enough to work this long…”

“Are you hittin’ up my rich aunt and uncle for bribes?” Applejack demanded, her face in a scowl.

“Bribe is such an ugly word,” said Officer Reinstein. “We like to call it ‘spreading the wealth around.’”

“That is quite alright, thank you,” said Uncle Orange. “The burglar didn’t take anything; he just caused a bit of damage, but Winston can easily repair it. Thank you for your time, officers.”

“Good evening, officers,” said Aunt Orange.

Officer Killarney sighed disappointedly as he walked towards the door. 

“Have a nice night, folks,” said Officer Reinstein. Killarney nodded, and they left.

Pound Cake was dumbstruck, his jaw agape.

“What kind of shoddy work was that?” he exclaimed. “They just came here, asked a few questions, and demanded a bribe, then left when they didn’t get it.”

Uncle Orange nodded. “The police patrol the rich areas of Manehattan more often, as a deterrent to criminals who would come from poor areas and steal. In return, whenever a crime does happen, as this evening, the police know rich ponies will reimburse the police for their extra time, since we have the money. Since we didn’t pay them, they left.”

Applejack shook her head. “That’s plum dishonest and ain’t right.”

“Big city crooked cops. Sheriff Silverstar would never take a bribe!” Granny Smith exclaimed.

“Eeyup,” said Big Macintosh.

Aunt and Uncle Orange both shrugged.

“Such is the way of the world,” said Aunt Orange.

Pound Cake shook his head. While the police were busy protecting the rich, the poor slums were lawless and full of gangs, and none of those ponies had the money to pay off the cops, unless they were criminals. Were the cops accepting money from criminals to let them go free if they were caught? Maybe if the price was right, he thought.

Shouldn’t the police protect everyone in town equally, like Sheriff Silverstar did? Shouldn’t the law apply to everypony all the same? Why hadn’t Twilight Sparkle or the Mayor of Manehattan cracked down on this scheme? Pound Cake thought back to all the complaints about President Lightning Dust and the corruption in the Cloud Confederacy. All of his pegasi friends in the Equestrian Loyalty Committee were nostalgic about life under the Princesses, but had it been it truly any better? Or were they just idolizing the past? 

He was starting to wonder.





“Sorry about that mess with the burglary, Pound Cake. We shall improve our security so that it doesn’t happen again. Perhaps we can have you over for dinner in the future to make up for this unfortunate evening,” said Uncle Orange.

“Okay,” said Pound Cake, shaking his hoof and Aunt Orange’s hoof. They both smiled at him.

“Take care and stay safe! Good luck killin’ the crops!” said Applejack.

“Eeyup,” said Big Macintosh.

Pound Cake closed the busted door, leaving the Apples and Oranges in the penthouse as he walked down the hallway towards the staircase.

A moment later, he sighed as he remembered that he could have just flown out to the street through their busted window and saved time. But instead, he would have to climb down fifty flights of stairs

The hallway was exquisite, with a long red carpet on top of the hardwood floor, and with chandeliers hanging every ten meters or so. Portraits of famous ponies, mountain scenery, and oceans were hung up all over the walls.

There sure is a lot of stuff that a pony could steal out here, he thought. The burglar would have had to walk past all of it, not bothering to try to steal anything until he got to the fiftieth floor. Pound glanced up and down the hallway. Nopony was in it. He reached over to one of the portraits and removed it from the wall. It wasn’t nailed down or anything. Instead, it was just hanging by a string from the wall. Why didn’t the burglar try to take any of these?

Pound Cake descended the stairs, walked out into the lobby, and out the front door of the complex. The cool night air chilled his coat once again. He gazed up at the full moon and stretched his wings to take off, but a snippet of a conversation around the corner caught his ear.

“...believe that you failed. How hard is it to shoot somepony at point-blank range?”

It was a mare’s voice that he didn’t recognize. He walked a bit closer, careful to stay up next to the wall. It was coming from the side of the building, in the alley. It was around a corner, so he couldn’t see anything other than the long shadows stretching out into the street from the alley.

“Sorry, but I lost my gun. I tried to break his wings, but got kicked out the window by the big red one.”

It was the burglar’s gruff voice. Pound’s heart skipped a beat.

“What’s done is done, I guess. Let’s just hope the kid’s not onto us. The next time the Oranges have him over for dinner, we’ll make another move. Poison his food, blow up a bomb, shoot him point blank, whatever it takes. As long as we save the crops, that’s all that matters. Now go back to Canterlot.”

Pound Cake peered around the corner, careful to only poke his head out as far as he had to. In the alley, illuminated by the moon, there stood the crimson-coated assassin, who was standing next to a unicorn mare who had a brown and yellow mane, and a light-lime colored coat. Her cutie mark was a half-eaten peach. Neither of them were looking in his direction.

Perfect. I’ll sneak up on them and knock them out, he thought. 

But they both disappeared in a flash of white light before he could do anything else.

“Damn!” he cursed under his breath. 

Pound Cake’s thoughts raced as he thought about what he should do next, when he realized that it wasn’t just him, but perhaps the Oranges’ and the Apples’ lives that could be in danger. They could easily get caught in the crossfire, and he had to go warn them.

Pound Cake flew straight up into the air to the broken window of the Oranges’ penthouse. He found it, and landed in their dining room, where the Apples were busy sweeping up broken glass.

“Oh, howdy, Pound Cake,” said Applejack as he landed inside the room. She smiled. “I already told you that we don’t need help cleanin’ up. We got it just fine.”

“Eeyup,” said Big Macintosh, a dustpan in his mouth.

Pound Cake glanced around. “Where are the Oranges? Where’s Winston?” he asked.

“They went to sleep for the evenin’,” said Granny Smith. “Watcha need?”

“I have to warn you guys about something,” he said. “Outside, I eavesdropped on two ponies in the alley. One was the burglar.”

The Apples’ eyes widened.

“He was an assassin from the SK. He was talking to this unicorn mare about how they were going to try to kill me the next time I’m over here. She had a really light green coat, almost white, and she had a brown and yellow striped mane—”

“Wait a minute…” Applejack interrupted. She paused for a few seconds, and then chuckled. “This is silly, but I gotta know. Did she have a cutie mark that looked like a half-eaten—”

“—Peach? You know her?” asked Pound, raising an eyebrow.

Granny Smith, Big Macintosh, and Applejack all looked at each other, their eyes widening in shock.

“Cousin Peachy,” said Big Macintosh, his head lowering.

“How could she?” asked Applejack.

“Now hold y’all’s horses; it might not have been her,” said Granny Smith. “Maybe it’s a strange cooinkydink.”

Pound Cake blinked. “Wait, are you saying that you might be related to this unicorn mare who wants me dead? But why?”

Applejack shrugged. “I don’t know, sugarcube. Cousin Peachy Pitt has always been friendly and nice to me, at least. Other than Pinkie and Derpy, she’s the cheeriest soul I know.”

“But then what was she doing in the alley? If it was her, that is,” said Pound. “Why would she be with the Second Kingdom?”

Applejack said, “Sometimes Peachy complains about how earth ponies treat her bad, but I didn’t take her for a bigot herself. And I can’t see her tryin’ to kill nopony, neither. But what are the chances some other unicorn would look exactly like her?”

“None,” said Big Macintosh.

Pound Cake said, “There has to be a reason. Is there a connection to the Flatlands? The mare said that she needed to make me quit destroying those crops.”

“Maybe Blue hired her,” said Big Macintosh.

Applejack chuckled. “If there was one thing that Peachy loved more than family, it was money. You might be onto something, Big Mac. We gotta do some investigatin’ to find out what’s up.”

“Hopefully nothin’,” said Granny Smith.

“She comes to the Oranges once every couple’a weeks,” said Applejack. “Next time she’s over here for dinner, I’ll ask her some questions about her job. She’s a bad liar, and I’ll know if somethin’ ain’t right. But in the meantime, Pound, you can’t let anypony know we suspect Peachy. Not even Aunt and Uncle Orange. If it turns out that we’re wrong, then we could end up with egg on our faces, and I’d hate to wrongfully accuse her of bein’ a traitor. Of course, if we’re right about her, then she can’t know in that case neither.”

Pound nodded. “I won’t tell a soul. Though I never thought I’d see honest AJ keeping secrets.”

She chuckled. “It ain’t a lie if you just don’t mention it.”





The Canterlot Bunker, August 2025

“We’ve downed some of their carts of salt before they could be spread, but we haven’t ever gotten the pegasus. They have an alert system for when we send our planes out. They come at night, and whenever we finally have him in our sights, he and the others are already gone. I’ve seen several teleport flashes, and they must have a unicorn with them who can teleport,” said Top Brass.

Blueblood shook his head as he looked at the graphs. Unless something on the battlefield changed, two million ponies in the Second Kingdom were already doomed to starve, because they just couldn’t stop Pound Cake. 

“Our snipers haven’t got him, either. He’s started wearing a bulletproof vest and switching up his daily routine,” Top Brass added.

“What about the hostage? Didn’t we threaten to kill his sister if he didn’t stop?” asked Peachy Pitt.

Blueblood shook his head. “He told me to ‘get bent.’ Of course, we won’t really kill Miss Cake before we learn that spell, but it was worth a try.” 

Peachy Pitt’s jaw dropped in feigned surprise as if she had just learned this. “I can’t believe it! How could he sacrifice his own sister’s life? I mean, he’s not actually, but he doesn’t know that he’s not!”

“We are fighting ponies who have no respect for the unicorn race,” said Trixie. “It’s a genocide.”

Blueblood sighed, placing his head on his hooves.

“I suppose there isn’t anything we can do to stop the salt,” said Fancy Pants. “The attacks aren’t coming from Twilight, so we can’t make a deal with her.”

“I’m sure that she could put pressure on the pegasi if she had to,” said Top Brass. “It might be a volunteer battalion, but she must have some leverage over them.”

“I’ve already tried asking Twilight Sparkle for another truce to give us some breathing room and allow food imports, but she and Luna wouldn’t have it,” said Blueblood. “They know about our food situation and know we’re in a bad place, so they won’t accept anything short of unconditional surrender. At best, surrender means a return to the crippling food tariffs that Equestria placed on their exports when we still relied on them, and giving back Mareicopa. At worst, surrender will mean the end of our kingdom entirely. Twilight and Luna have expressed their desire to bring our land back into Equestria.”

“That would mean living with their anti-magic laws, their taxes, and discrimination again,” said Peachy Pitt. “We can’t.”

“We have to threaten Twilight Sparkle with something that she can’t ignore, to force her into a ceasefire,” said General Top Brass.

“Threaten her with what?” asked Fancy Pants. “We have no military leverage against Equestria, do we? Have circumstances changed on the battlefield recently?”

The general shook his head.

Trixie smiled. “Maybe not military, but we have civilian leverage against Equestria,” she said. “Fancy Pants, there are… how many dirt ponies mucking about in Mareicopa that you’ve refused to get rid of?”

“That was at my urge, Trixie, not his,” the General cut in. “There are excellent hospitals and trauma wards in Mareicopa, staffed by mostly earth ponies. Our casualty rates would go up 50% if we got rid of all of the earth ponies. Also, we’ve had bigger problems to worry about than racial purity.”

“Let Fancy Pants answer the question, General. How many earth ponies and pegasi are in Mareicopa?” asked Trixie.

“Oh, I can answer that,” said Peachy Pitt. “Of the one million or so ponies who remain in Mareicopa, half are non-unicorn. Of those, roughly half are earth ponies and half are pegasi.”

Trixie turned to Blueblood. “What if you could threaten Twilight Sparkle with the lives of 500,000 earth ponies and pegasi if the destruction of our crops doesn’t stop?”

Fancy Pants’ jaw dropped. “What? But that’s—”

“Unrealistic? Yes, perhaps in such a short time. So how about a hundred thousand dirt ponies, then,” said Trixie. “What do you say, King Blueblood?”

King Blueblood blinked several times. The entire room was silent. Blueblood turned his head sideways. Fancy Pants was about to breathe a sigh of relief in anticipation of Blueblood laughing off her idea, but then Blueblood turned to him.

“How feasible would it be, Minister Fancy Pants?” he asked. “How many earth ponies and pegasi can you detain between now and October?”

His head jolted as he sat upright in his chair. “Well, uh, er… I… the work power needed to do such a thing…”

“I’ll double your budget,” said Blueblood. “I’ll send every police officer there from Canterlot that I can spare. I’ll even give you some of Top Brass’ soldiers, if he can spare any. I’ll put all of the public construction crews on building internment camps, and you can put the overflow in the local hoofball stadium until more camps are completed. Chupacabra Stadium seats 60,000, yes?”

“Seventy thousand, actually,” said Fancy Pants, glancing down at the table.

“So, can you detain 100,000 earth ponies between now and October, as difficult as it may be?” 

Fancy Pants’ mind raced. Were they seriously discussing perpetrating genocide? The Second Kingdom had done many things he hadn’t been proud of, but he had never thought they would stoop so low as to kill tens of thousands of civilians just so that they wouldn’t have to surrender on unfavorable terms.

Well, they’re only threatening to kill them, so maybe they won’t really do it, he thought. But what if Twilight refuses the cease-fire at first? They could just start killing a few thousand at a time until she gives in. That would be dreadful.

But he had to answer the question, since Blueblood asked him, and he couldn’t appear to be disloyal. Not when he was so close to becoming second-in-line to Bluebood, killing him, taking his place, and signing a peace treaty with Equestria.

Finally, Fancy Pants said, “I could, if I devoted every last bit of my resources to it. But bear in mind that my resources are currently on important things, such as security to prevent partisan attacks, arresting political dissenters, and—”

“That’s fine, we’re about to have to surrender, anyway,” said Blueblood. “This is our last ditch effort.”

Blueblood turned to the other ministers. “I’m not a monster. I only want the Second Kingdom to be allowed its freedom. I certainly hope that I don’t have to have any of the inferior ponies killed, but if Twilight Sparkle doesn’t command those pegasi to stop their destruction of our people’s food, and therefore, our lives, then I see no other choice.”

Peachy Pitt shrugged. “It has to be done. We can’t surrender, and we can’t go back to living under the princesses. I don’t want us to have to kill earth ponies either, and hopefully Twilight Sparkle sees reason, so that we don’t have to.”

“There isn’t any military solution in sight, and this could give us some breathing room,” said General Top Brass. “Every last one of my able-bodied soldiers are needed on the front lines to hold them, but I’ll see if I can apportion our regular Mareicopa defense garrison to the task since they’re in the city anyway.” 

Trixie nodded. “You know my position, King Blueblood.”

“Then we have a consensus of opinion here,” said Blueblood. He turned to Fancy Pants. “Please begin rounding up the earth ponies and pegasi, Fancy Pants. Whether you can get 50,000 or 100,000, it doesn’t matter, but the more the better, and I want 50,000 at the minimum. Start with the unemployed, homeless, elderly, orphans, and others who don’t contribute to the economy. They’ll be easier to round up, and fewer ponies will complain when we do. Leave the doctors, nurses, businessponies, engineers, and scientists alone; we need them for our war effort. If possible, don’t separate parents from children.”

Fancy Pants weakly nodded. “Yes sir,” he muttered.

“The key is to register on Princess Twilight’s radar of who she cares about,” said Blueblood. “Though the Princesses had no problem sacrificing the unicorn children in Ponyville, or sacrificing Appleloosa, those were small numbers of ponies. I doubt that even Twilight or Luna could sacrifice the lives of a hundred thousand ponies in Mareicopa who they still consider to be their own citizens. Even if the princesses don’t give in, the pegasi battalion may stop poisoning the crops just all on their own if we threaten them directly.”

He turned to the rest of his ministers. “You’re all dismissed.”





August, 2025

Fancy Pants sat inside of his office in Mareicopa, working on some paperwork. The window was open as the hot desert air was kept at bay by a window fan, and a light breeze blew through, providing small relief from the sweltering heat. He wiped his forehead with his hoof, removing the beads of sweat accumulating on his fur.

“Hey, Fancy Pants.”

He gazed up and smiled as Amethyst Star turned visible, appearing in front of his desk. 

A relieved look spread over his face. “Hello, Agent Sparkler. It’s nice to see you again. I can’t remember the last time we met!”

“Well sorry that I’m not meeting you every day for dinner and a show,” Amethyst Star quipped. “It’s been four weeks, and I’ve been busy stalking Trixie and doing some reconnaissance work on her. It’s really hard to get into that science lab of hers, even while invisible. They have state-of-the-art security there.”

Fancy Pants nodded. “I understand how risky it is to get caught. Believe me, since I turned coat, I’ve never stopped looking over my shoulder.”

“That’s why you’re called a turncoat: you turn around a lot,” she chuckled. “But the plan is in place to kill Trixie, you’ll be happy to know.”

Fancy Pants shook his head. “Trixie is already on thin ice with Blueblood. From what he told me, she hasn’t gotten results to his liking. Are you sure that you want to assassinate her when she could just be terminated soon, anyway? Why raise unnecessary suspicion?”

Agent Sparkler chuckled. “I’m two steps ahead of you, Fancy Pants. If Trixie doesn’t discover instructions on how to cast an intangibility spell within the next month and a half, she’s terminated. My plan is just a backup in case she all of a sudden gets results. You know, it’s just like how Equestria has plans for a zombie apocalypse, too.”

“I’m guessing that you don’t think that’s likely,” Fancy Pants said.

Sparkler let out a hearty laugh. “As likely as the zombie apocalypse. Intangibility is a red herring. We have dozens of highly-trained unicorn agents in RISK. They know all sorts of magic, but not one of them can walk through walls, try as they might. Trixie’s test subject must be one-in-a-million.”

“And Miss Cake’s brother, Pound, can create a sonic rainboom,” said Fancy Pants. “I say, what a remarkable pair of twins.”

“Speaking of, I hear that the crops are dying,” said Sparkler. “We may not even need to carry through on our assassination plan of Blueblood at all, if the Second Kingdom runs out of food and is forced to surrender.”

“That… was actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” said Fancy Pants, sighing as he put his hoof to his forehead. 

“What?”

“I believe Blueblood has gone mad. He has ordered me to start detaining all the non-unicorns in this city. Then, he’s going to threaten Twilight Sparkle: if the crops aren’t spared, he’ll start slowly killing them until the attacks stop.”

Sparkler blinked. “That’s—”

“Terrible?” Fancy Pants said.

Sparkler scratched her head with her hoof. “I was going to say ‘genius,’ actually. Evil genius, don’t get me wrong, but genius nonetheless. It puts Princess Twilight in an impossible position. She and Luna will know that whatever they do, if they get too close to winning the war, hundreds of thousands of innocents will be killed. Whether it’s with the crops, or something on the battlefield, Blueblood will have thousands of trump cards.”

Fancy Pants buried his head into his hooves.

“Well, I’ll let Twilight know about this, just so that she has time to plan for it,” said Sparkler. “It’s just more evidence that Blueblood and his regime can only safely be tackled from within, by a pony like you.”

“What should I do?” asked Fancy Pants. “I’ve been drawing up preliminary plans for this detention, and the crews have begun setting up detention centers around town, but it’s entirely unconscionable to begin the roundup itself. I can’t bring myself to it.”

Sparkle asked, “Well, if you don’t do it, what will happen?”

Fancy Pants shrugged. “I suppose that Blueblood will put somepony else in charge of it. Though they may not be as competent as I, since I know this city and have experience here. But I do believe that it will get done, whether through me or somepony else. Blueblood is determined.”

Sparkler said, “As much as I hate to say it, I think you have to go ahead with it, Fancy Pants. I could send some of the Mareicopa partisans to attack the camp guards, but I don't have nearly enough. Maybe you could stall it a little yourself through administrative red tape, but not by much, or Blueblood will be suspicious. I mean, you’re only detaining ponies, not killing them just yet, and if you don’t do it, then somepony else will. So let’s weigh your options: you round up the earth ponies and remain in your position and eventually kill Blueblood, then stop the genocide once you’re in charge. That or Blueblood fires you for refusing, you don’t get the chance to kill him, and the earth ponies end up dead anyway, just maybe a little later.”

Fancy Pants remained silent.

Agent Sparkler said, “I know what I would do. It’s not easy, but it’s the best of two terrible choices.”

Fancy Pants’ eyelids narrowed as he stared off into the distance. Water formed in his eyes, but he held back the tears. Amethyst Star leaned in towards him and put her hoof on his shoulder.

“It will all be over soon,” she said. “Once Trixie is fired, we can go and kill Blueblood, and you can stop this madness.”

He nodded, as she gave him a hug. She disappeared once more, her horn illuminating the door as she crept out into the hallway, unseen.





“...so I told Fancy Pants that he needs to go ahead with rounding them up, since if he doesn’t do it, King Blueblood will just fire him and it’ll still be done anyway. Blueblood wants to make this sick trade: stop starvation to stop genocide,” said Amethyst Star.

“A genocide?” asked Twilight Sparkle, her eyes widening.

“That is dreadful news, Agent Sparkler!” Luna exclaimed, slamming her hoof on the table. “We must put a stop to this post haste!”

Twilight Sparkle shook her head. “I’m not willing to win this war if it means hundreds of thousands of earth ponies will die.”

Luna nodded. “I agree.”

Twilight continued, “I’d just sign a truce with Blueblood before that happens, even though I don’t want the Second Kingdom to still exist after everything they’ve done. But maybe we can stop the roundup before it starts. Agent Sparkler, can your partisans in Mareicopa put a stop to this?"

Amethyst Star shook her head. "I only have a few dozen partisans that I trust. It's not enough."

"Then if we can't stop it from within the city, we'll have to send a force there," said Twilight. "General Spitfire, how many troops can we dedicate to Mareicopa? Could we liberate the city in the next few weeks?”

General Spitfire motioned towards a map of Equestria on the back hall of the meeting room. “Well, we’re dug in pretty deep and pretty far from the city. During the early phase of the war, the enemy captured all of the San Palomino desert outside of the city, forming a buffer zone about a hundred miles to the north and east, just outside the desert: along the Everfree River and the nearby grassland and forests. Right now, we’re pretty evenly matched and there hasn’t been much progress along those lines, so we’d need an entire division to break through and then go on to free the city, conducting street to street urban warfare. I’d say forty thousand troops minimum for the whole job.”

She pointed to the north area of the map.

“We could get that number if we shifted some troops from other areas of the front lines, like the Flatlands, for instance. I mean, after the salt poisoning, that land is worthless to the SK, anyway, so why do we need to still be dug into trenches up there? Sure, if we pull out some of our forces, that might mean the enemy could capture some of our farmland adjacent to that area, like in Manesas or Neighbraska, but that’s a risk we’ll have to take.”

Twilight Sparkle nodded. “Liberate Mareicopa. Gather as many troops from the Flatlands as you need, and cross the desert to free the city. We have to stop the genocide or sign a truce again.”

Luna added, “And we are not signing a truce.”





Explosions and bullets burst as a massive force overwhelmed the Second Kingdom defensive line hundreds of kilometers north of Mareicopa. The SK trenches collapsed under the barrage of heavy artillery and gunfire, as thirty thousand Equestrians of the newly-formed Mareicopa Liberation Division rushed the trenches, firing assault rifles and rockets at the massively overwhelmed unicorns. Spitfire observed all of this from the air, as her forces poured through the hole that they had just punched in the SK lines. 

The hole was only about two kilometers wide, but her soldiers squeezed through quickly, running into the San Palomino desert like they were in a marathon. After months and months on static front lines, these select stallions and mares were quite eager to stretch their legs and hustle. Pegasi flew through the air about ten meters above the ground, and thousands of earth ponies and unicorns shuffled across the sandy desert floor as fast as their legs could carry them. 

The Crystal Empire had even contributed a few battalions, temporarily taking them off of defense duty of the Flatlands and the borders of their empire for this critical mission. The crystal ponies’ coats shimmered like diamonds in the hot desert sun, as sweat dripped from their backs. 

They ponies in the Mareicopa Liberation Division only paused to take gulps from the giant canteens around their necks. Most of the ponies weren’t used to the heat, having just come in from the north a few hours ago by train.

Spitfire gazed the gleaming desert city far off in the distance, and thought back to just a few years ago, when she had been looking there for a new house. Cloudsdale and Las Pegasus had just seceded, leaving her old home in a new nation. Mareicopa was hot and somewhat pricey, but it was the perfect place for a general to live. It was close to both the central theater with the Second Kingdom, and the west coast theater with the Zebra Empire. She could have flown to whatever front she was needed on, and then returned home in just a few hours to sleep in her own bed. It was great for her, and it was great for Pound Cake, who had still been living with her, to have some sort of stability in his tumultuous life. 

But the Second Kingdom’s forces overwhelmed the city in April 2023, which hadn’t been near the established front lines at the time. In two and a half years, Equestria hadn’t made an effort to retake it until today, their forces being needed elsewhere. It seemed so strange to Spitfire that she was now invading an Equestrian city that she’d once briefly lived in, but she was sure that when her forces arrived, they would be cheered by the residents and greeted as liberators, especially by non-unicorns who had become targets. 

Unlike the Second Kingdom’s invasion of Mareicopa, Spitfire’s invasion would be a bit more challenging. No doubt, the enemy had already moved many soldiers to the city to assist in the roundup and eventual genocide. The city was better defended by the Second Kingdom than it had been under Equestrian rule, and taking it would require urban warfare once they arrived, so the element of surprise was critical in this mission. 

Like the Second Kingdom’s invasion of Mareicopa, Spitfire was using a blitzkrieg strategy too, and hoped to have her soldiers inside of the city before the Second Kingdom could send its force out into the desert to fight them there. The desert was flat and wide open, with nothing but sand, and it would leave them as sitting ducks. As the Second Kingdom unicorns had shown before, they excelled at desert warfare, being able to create walls of sand with their telekinesis to form a flexible, moving barrier for protection. If the unicorns met them in the desert, the Equestrians could be bogged down fighting them for weeks, by which point the roundup in Mareicopa would be in full swing and it would be too late. Spitfire hoped to avoid this by simply rushing into the city before the enemy could leave Mareicopa and assemble to meet them the desert.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a small explosion and orange ball of fire towards the front of the division. Ponies ducked and took cover as yet another explosion burst out, scattering sand everywhere. She blinked as some of it got in her eyes, and surveyed the sky and the desert surrounding Mareicopa. There weren’t any enemy forces in sight; it was clear all the way from the city to where the division stood, so they weren’t being fired upon. Another explosion rocked the ground.

They’ve mined the desert.

“Halt!” she commanded through her megaphone, motioning with her hooves as the division stopped in its tracks. Medics ran off to tend to the wounded, but everypony else stood perfectly still.

Spitfire had been afraid of this. She had figured that there were at least a few anti-pony landmines scattered here and there throughout the sand, but not as many as she had just seen go off. They still had over half way to go, and already three mines had gone off in the span of just a few seconds. The minefield must have been huge, containing thousands of mines. A big minefield would slow down the division as they sought to avoid it, giving the Second Kingdom more time to muster a defense. That, or the division could just run over the minefield, but they could kill or maim thousands of soldiers depending on how many mines there were. Either option didn’t seem to be a good alternative.

Sptifire’s mind raced as she tried to weigh her options. Her division had about forty unicorn minesweepers, and they could cast detection spells to find the mines and safely remove them with telekinesis. However, mine removal was time-consuming, especially for a mine-field this size, and it could take several hours that she didn’t have to spare. Or, she could just form a narrow column through the minefield and have her soldiers walk through that, but that would create a bottleneck with this many soldiers, taking far too much time. 

So instead, she would have to improvise. 

Spitfire flew to the front of the column. She shouted, “We have to get across this minefield, all while keeping good enough time to get into the city before they meet us in the desert. Now, I don’t believe our minesweepers can get us through the minefield in time, and we can’t just walk over it. So instead, we’ll fly over it. This will take slightly more time than running on hoof, but a lot less time than minesweeping.”

Her soldiers all looked around at each other, and into the sky above them. Only about a quarter of the soldiers in the division were pegasi. They all held back chuckles and looked confusedly at Spitfire.

Spitfire chuckled, and then smiled. “Now, I know what you’re all thinking: how can we fly over it? We’re all on hoof, and besides a few supply carts, we don’t have any carts or armored pony carriers to hitch the pegasi to so they can carry everypony. But we do have unicorns. Now, when I was assembling this division, I selected quite a few force-field casters, thinking they’d come in handy during our urban warfare to protect captured buildings from enemy mortars. I selected exactly 300 force-fielders. If you all could step forward and stand below me, please.”

The unicorns stepped forward, forming a line below where Spitfire flew.

“Now, normally force-fielding is used for forming a protective bubble or wall around an area, but it can be used for quite a few other things: including creating a flat sheet. If any of you were in the Battle of Galloping Gorge last year, this is actually a strategy the Second Kingdom pioneered that I’m borrowing. Specialist Domely, if you could please demonstrate.

Specialist Domely, a yellow unicorn mare, lit up her horn. In a few moments, a purple sheen appeared on the sand, about ten by ten meters.

“Now, these are perfectly safe to stand on,” said Spitfire. She landed on the flat force-field, standing on top of it to demonstrate. “These platforms can support a lot of weight before they break, all while weighing much less than a similar sized wooden cart. If my math is right, we should have just enough unicorns to cast just enough ‘magic carpets’ for all of the unicorns and earth ponies to stand on safely. Then, we harness the pegasi to the front of the platforms, and they’ll pull them along. 

“Pegasi will also fly on the corners and sides to stabilize the platforms and stop them from tipping over. And of course, our scout pegasi will fly ahead to ensure no enemies are approaching. In this way, we’ll hover a few feet above the minefield and glide across. It’ll slow us down, but still leave us enough time to get to the city.

“Force fielders, cast your force fields now. Earth ponies and unicorns, climb aboard. Ten deep and ten wide, for a hundred ponies per ‘carpet.’”

Her soldiers did as they were instructed, with the force-fielders casting flat force-field platforms, and the other ponies climbing aboard. The pegasi hovered in the air, tying ropes to themselves and around the carpets to carry them. In about ten minutes, all 30,000 unicorns, earth and crystal ponies in the division were atop the 300 force field carpets, while the 10,000 pegasi were either pulling them or flying ahead to provide air support.

Spitfire grinned widely as she flew high, high above the platforms, gazing down at the hundreds of squares which covered the sandy landscape like a glowing checkerboard. They were moving faster than she had hoped, and not a single mine had been set off. The sky was clear for as far as she could see; not a single unicorn plane was in the sky. 

She shouted down through her megaphone, “Operation magic carpet is a success! To Mareicopa!”

Forty thousand ponies all cheered in unison as they closed in on the city. They had only about a few hours journey left to go.





Fancy Pants and General Top Brass sat together inside of an office building in Mareicopa. On the desk before them sat blueprints, charts, and diagrams of concentration camps that either had been erected, or were almost finished. Due to the short time, it was impractical to build all-new camps. So, instead, they had put the camps wherever there was space in existing buildings. Some of them were in cellars of abandoned buildings, others were on rooftops, and still others were old outdoor basketball and tennis courts that were being converted. The biggest concentration camp, of course, would be in Chupacabra stadium.

Nopony had been detained yet, but that would start in just a week. Fancy Pants was coordinating the effort with Top Brass and his forces. Fancy Pants bit his hooves frequently in anticipation. He had already printed up propaganda posters to hang up all over town when the roundup would begin.

“Better lives for homeless earth ponies and pegasi!”

“Non-unicorns: the city has a place in its heart for you, too.”

“Good flyers and farmers wanted: please report to Carter Center, floor fifteen.”

That would be in the first week, and they would see how many gullible earth ponies and pegasi they could rope in with that. After that, they would switch to more demanding posters such as, “All homeless or unemployed earth ponies and pegasi must report to Chupacabra stadium immediately.”

Fancy Pants wondered how long his conscience would let him lie and participate in such a horrid affair. He could hardly imagine how the earth ponies and pegasi would feel when they showed up to what they thought was a “job fair” or a “homeless shelter,” but instead were held at gunpoint and told they couldn’t leave. 

He couldn’t imagine the grief and torment their families would go through, wondering what had happened to their loved ones, and he didn’t even begin to think about the sheer hell that would be unleashed if Twilight was uncooperative and the genocide went through. But hopefully, Agent Sparkler had alerted the princesses, and they were sending forces to stop the roundup. 

Fancy Pants locked in on the task at hoof, not wanting to zone out in his meeting. “Alright, so the Royal Promenade will hold about a thousand. We already have bunks, running water, and barbed wires. How many guards can you commit?” he asked.

The General scratched his chin. “It might not be enough. I already have two-hundred assigned to the—”

There was a pounding at the door.

“Come in,” said Top Brass.

The door opened, and in rushed a panting stallion with desert camouflage and a sweaty, dripping mane. He quickly saluted, then stood at attention.

“Yes, Sergeant Popper?” asked Top Brass.

“Sir! I’ve just teleported in from the front lines near the Everfree River. We were overrun by a huge force of Equestrians. They broke through our lines and are crossing the desert as we speak! Our scouts report they will be here within three hours!”

General Top Brass raised an eyebrow. “What? Three hours? We put almost a third of our total landmine stock into that desert! I thought we had more of a time buffer than three hours, Popper.”

Sergeant Popper shook his head. “They sprinted across the un-mined portion on hoof, and are using magic carpet transports to make the rest of the journey. They must have picked up that strategy from us after Galloping Gorge. But since they have pegasi, it’s a lot faster for them to move the force-field platforms along than it was for us.”

Top Brass said, “We have to prepare a defense. Scramble the jets and drop bombs on them! Get our ground troops out of the barracks and into the desert!”

Sergeant Popper said, “It’s already done, sir, but by the time our soldiers reach them, they will be within five kilometers of the city. There is an estimated enemy force of 30,000-60,000 soldiers, whereas our Mareicopa garrison is 12,000, perhaps fifteen if you include some of the lightly wounded in the hospitals. There aren’t enough ponies in this city to put up a defense against the enemy force. They’ll reach the city by tomorrow, maybe Wednesday at the latest. We’ll have to teleport in our urban warfare battalions from Canterlot to stand a chance.”

The general’s jaw dropped. “Sixty thousand enemy troops? That’s over ten percent of their total army!”

Popper nodded. “I don’t know how they mustered those kinds of numbers.”

Top Brass asked, “And why would they risk an invasion, risk taking soldiers away from defending other areas of the front, when they think that we’re about to surrender because of our food shortage? For all they know, they could get Mareicopa back bloodlessly in a few months anyway, when they make us surrender on their terms.”

Popper shrugged. “You said ‘for all they know,’ but perhaps they know something more than you think they do. Though I can’t guess what.”

Top Brass’ eyes widened. “The internment. But that’s a top-secret operation. Nopony knows about that yet except the construction crews for the camps. It’s not supposed to be public until next week when the posters go up, and even those will be fake and misleading for a while.”

He turned to Fancy Pants, crossing his hooves. “You hoof-picked and gave polygraphs to those construction ponies. How could Equestria have found out?” 

Fancy Pants shrunk back in his chair. “I haven’t told a soul, general. No need to be cross with me. The internment is a large operation. Hundreds of construction ponies were needed to make it work. Leaks happen, just as you casually mentioned the internment in front of this sergeant just now. Perhaps Equestria captured and interrogated someone. Besides, we don’t even know that the princesses know about the internment. Perhaps their invasion of Mareicopa is a coincidence.”

Top Brass shook his head. “There are no coincidences in war, Fancy Pants.”

The general stood up from his seat, and gave a salute to Sergeant Popper, who gave a salute back, and then teleported away.

Top Brass turned back to Fancy Pants. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an invasion to halt.”

Fancy Pants raised an eyebrow. “How will you stop up to sixty thousand Equestrians with just twelve thousand unicorns?”

“Strategy,” said the General. “I’ve beaten five-to-one odds before; I do it every day against Equestria. Mareicopa will hold, because it has to.”

He left the room.