//------------------------------// // Chapter 43: Dog Fight // Story: Brother Against Sister // by CartsBeforeHorses //------------------------------// Canterlot: January, 2026 The Canterlot Cathedral, a towering white-marble building, had a grand history stretching through the ages. Starswirl the Bearded had his funeral here. Princess Cadance and Shining Armor had gotten married here. Now it hosted another historic wedding. Hundreds of unicorns sat in the pews and clapped as the bride, the newly-crowned Duchess Sparkler, walked down the aisle in her flowing white dress. In the four months since she and Fancy Pants had come to power and negotiated peace with Equestria, the famines had stopped in Canterlot. The deadly war against Equestria had stopped, with only the battle against the Zebra Empire still ongoing. Thanks to trade being allowed with Equestria again, the economy had improved in the last quarter of 2025. Even though Amethyst Star was from Equestria, most unicorns were quite pleased with her, and were eager to see her marry Fancy Pants. Some ponies doubted her for various reasons. Some didn’t trust Equestrians at all and thought that she’d eventually sell out Canterlot to non-unicorns. Some despised titles of nobility and wanted the Second Kingdom to become a Republic. Despite Sparkler’s fancy title as duchess, and her fiancé's claim to being president, she was effectively a dictator. Even Fancy Pants dared not sign a single bill or give a single order without clearing it with Amethyst Star, first. Given that, Fancy Pants’ name was rather ironic: Sparkler wore the pants. Using her many years of experience with spycraft, Amethyst Star had established a new intelligence service in Canterlot, called the Second Shadows, to replace Blueblood’s intelligence services, and to rival the Royal Institute of Secret Knowledge in Equestria. The Second Shadows had successfully thwarted all plots against Duchess Sparkler’s life. They had obliterated all evidence that Fancy Pants had killed Blueblood. Top Brass’ prior public accusations were merely played up as lies he told to attain power. The Second Shadows had no moles, because agents didn’t apply to be part of the Second Shadows. It took no applications. It gave applications. Sparkler invisibly followed and hoof-picked every prospective agent herself. If you want something done right… she thought. She just hoped that these agents worked better than some of the partisans she had chosen in Mareicopa. Over the months, Amethyst Star had firmly convinced Canterlot of her dedication to the unicorn race and to unicorn independence. She had convinced Peachy Pitt, who was responsible for Canterlot’s first successful winter wheat crop, grown by unicorns for unicorns. In reality, Amethyst Star was no Blueblood, no idealogue. But she knew that she was the supreme unicorn, thanks to the Alicorn Charm, and knew that in terms of raw power, unicorns were the most capable of the three pony races. The unicorns of Canterlot could never accept rejoining Equestria. So Sparkler knew that she might as well ensure that a war wouldn’t break out again. That required her absolute power over the Second Duchy for as long as she lived. Once she wrestled a few constitutional changes out of the legislative branch through use of blackmail, Fancy Pants would be president-for-life. And hopefully, it would be a very long and happy life. She had just needed to talk to one last pony: the groom himself. The last night that she had seen him before the wedding, they’d been lying in bed together, when Fancy Pants turned to her. He had asked, “Amethyst Star… do you really love me? Is this merely a marriage of convenience, or one of true love? Is it passion, or another one of your plays?” She had pretended to be asleep, but Fancy Pants had been wise to her, and asked yet again. Amethyst Star sat up in bed. Sarcasm had always come easy for her, but speaking about love or compassion was harder. “I… well… you see…” Fancy Pants’ lower lip had trembled. “Fancy… I’ve been a secret agent for years,” Amethyst Star had said. “I’ve slept with hundreds of stallions around the world. All of them, I’ve pretended to have feelings for, for tactical objectives. That infidelity cost me my first husband, and he wouldn’t listen when I said it was all business and no pleasure. When he left me, it broke my heart, since I birthed his children. I grew cold and withdrawn. Snarky, sarcastic. I swore I’d never love another stallion again. “When I first met you, it was more of the same. Tactical objectives. That was why I slept with you at first. No true feelings involved. But then… it became something more over the months. You went from just being a useful pawn to somepony that I truly cared about. I first realized it when Pumpkin Cake tried to kill you in Mareicopa. I realized that, not only would my plans fail if she killed you, but that I would personally be devastated. “They always tell you not to get too attached in my line of work, because ponies have a funny way of dying. But I couldn’t help it. You were different. Every other politician I’ve met just looks out for himself. But you really care about other ponies, about me. Just like I truly care about preserving peace. We both want the best for our people. I’m no longer a secret agent, and I’m nearly in my sixties. I want to settle down and retire. There is nopony else who I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. Somepony who is caring and compassionate, who I can give my heart to. Fancy Pants, I truly love you.” He hadn’t said ‘I love you’ back. He merely nodded as if contemplating, and went back to bed. They hadn’t spoken since, as they’d been busy with wedding preparations. Sparkler was rather anxious. Would Fancy Pants back out at the last second? As she walked down the aisle, her wide smiles to her subjects masked the anticipation within. She and a tuxedoed Fancy Pants stood before the priest, who read the vows that the two of them had prepared. As a duchess, Amethyst Star’s vows were first. “Do you, Duchess Amethyst Star, promise to be faithful to President Fancy Pants and the peace between Equestria and Canterlot that your marriage to him represents? Do you promise to love Fancy Pants, to care for him, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?” With no hesitation, and with a straight face, Amethyst Star said, “I do.” The priest turned to Fancy Pants. “And do you, President Fancy Pants, promise to be faithful to Duchess Amethyst Star? Do you promise to love Amethyst Star, to care for her, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?” Fancy Pants cleared his throat nervously, slightly adjusting his bow-tie. He gazed into Amethyst Star’s eyes. A few seconds passed as the crowd and the bride waited in anticipation. Finally, he smiled widely. “I do.” Starswirl Peak, February 1st, 2026 The glittering pink, blue, red, and green of bright gems glinted off of the late afternoon sunlight. They floated in clumps from the mountainside and into a tin bucket, passing through the rock and leaving no trace that they’d ever been inside. Pumpkin Cake smiled as her breath fogged up the cold winter air. These gems were worth at least ten thousand Equestrian bits, and she’d earned it in just three minutes. The gems clinked into the bucket like golden bits into her bank account. “Pumpkin! I’ve found more gems in this direction!” Rarity beckoned. Pumpkin nodded and walked over, her hooves crunching as they compacted the freshly fallen snow. Normally, she teleported any distance more than ten meters or so, but wanted to save her magical energy for extracting gems. Her legs had actually gotten quite bulky since she’d started walking all around the mountain every day for months. Rarity and Pumpkin Cake made the best team, and had extracted tens of thousands of gemstones together since October when they’d begun ‘mining’ the mountain as the partnership Magic Mining Mares, LLP. Rarity’s magic was sensitive and could detect even the smallest gemstones, and she could precisely communicate with telepathy where they were. Pumpkin was skilled in telekinesis and intangibility and could remove them like a magnet pulling iron filings from the sand. Both ponies were dedicated workers, working seventy hour weeks. Such a mining operation was unheard of. Normally, teams of miners mined ore from stone, and it took all day for them to mine an area of rock that only took Pumpkin ten minutes to extract gems from. And by grabbing them directly, there were no refining costs. The Mining Mares’ method was quite efficient, and the cost savings could go to the partners as profit. Rarity did end up giving more of their money away to charity than Pumpkin would have personally given, but she still had plenty. Pumpkin Cake was now worth fifteen million bits. Though she was too busy working to do it herself, and didn’t know the first thing about finance, she did have good financial planners managing her money and investing it wisely. In addition to about five million deposited in various banks and financial institutions, Pumpkin also had millions in mutual funds and ETFs that invested in stocks and bonds. She’d also spent about five million on various personal expenditures. She’d bought a huge plot of land in the Unicorn Range foothills that, someday, would hopefully house her aspen form when she could finally transition to ‘postequine.’ In a trust fund, she’d deposited the money to pay at least 1,000 years of property taxes at current rates. She’d bought a new house in Mareicopa, because Trixie’s house was rather awkward. It was in a nice area in a gated community, but nothing too fancy: it actually had less finished square footage than Trixie’s house. Pumpkin had also spent money lobbying the new Mareicopa Parliament and local government, and Mareicopa had repealed all magic laws. Finally, Pumpkin had bought a barracks, armory, and training facility for the Mareicopa Resistance, which had changed its name to the Mareicopa Militia. They no longer patrolled the streets of Copa as they had back in October; that job was now for the official local police. However, the Mareicopa Militia had sent volunteers to fight against the Zebras in Tall Tale and Vanhoover. Twilight Sparkle looked the other way and tolerated an armed group in Equestria since they were fighting the zebras, just as she’d tolerated the ASDF in Appleloosa. As for the want-it, need-it spell, Pumpkin Cake still cast it occasionally, though she didn’t have nearly as much time to be under that spell as she had when she wasn’t working. But thankfully, as time went on she found that she didn’t have as large of a need or desire to be under the spell as she’d had before, anyway. Rarity placed her horn against Pumpkin Cake’s, and telepathically conveyed the exact locations of the gems inside of that area of the mountain. Pumpkin extracted them over the next thirty minutes, as this was a large cluster. “It looks as though we have a full load. Shall we call it a day?” asked Rarity. Pumpkin nodded. “You know what tomorrow is?” Rarity smiled. “Of course I do! It’s your sixteenth birthday!” “That’s right. Finally, I’m an adult.” Sixteen was the official age of adulthood in Equestria. Ponies could vote, marry, fight in combat, enter into binding contracts, and buy alcohol and cigarettes at age sixteen. Only a few privileges, like the ability to rent certain vehicles or run for high public office, were set higher than sixteen. Rarity asked, “Will you be going to that birthday party in Whinnsylvania?” Pumpkin chuckled. “Oh... I don’t know...” Pinkie Pie was throwing a gigantic party at the rock farm in Whinnsylvania the next day for Pound Cake, at his request. The farm was only fifty miles from Fillydelphia, so all of the top-ranking EFA members and personal friends of Pound would attend. But Pinkie Pie had insisted on extending the party to also be for to Pumpkin, since it was her birthday, too. She promised to put her name on the cake if she came, and told her that she could also invite her own friends. “You’re twins! I mean, you were born on the same day from the same mother, for crying out loud. Your sixteenth birthday should be together!” Pinkie had practically shouted to Pumpkin over the phone. Despite Pound’s stupidity sometimes, Pumpkin would‘ve liked to see her brother again, as she hadn’t in months. But she just didn’t want to get into any political debates. She’d planned on merely calling her brother on the phone, wishing him a happy birthday, maybe making small talk with him for a few minutes, then hanging up. If she were to visit him and his friends in Whinnsylvania, that could present opportunities for arguments. “I can go with you, if you’d like,” Rarity offered. “A lady is never confrontational, but if your brother is rude, then I will certainly intervene in a befitting manner.” “You’re just one pony, though. Pound’s friends will all be there.” Rarity smiled. “Then bring your friends.” The Rock Farm, February 2nd Pound Cake, Featherweight, Raindrops, Lyra Heartstrings, Bon Bon, Hoops, Doctor Stable, and Rainbow Dash stepped out of their sky-bus that Bulky Biceps had been pulling. Their hooves landed on the silty ground of the Pie Family Rock Farm. Though Pound could’ve had his celebration in the city, the rock farm was only an hour flight away, and he liked the country. It had fresher, smog-free air and open spaces where he could fly as fast as he wanted. He might even pull off a sonic rainboom for his friends’ amusement, since it would be safe this far out in the country. Pinkie had transformed the normally boring, monotonous fields of the rock farm from a dull grey into a colorful celebration. The field was covered in plaid picnic blankets, bouncy houses, balloons, and party games like pin the tail on the pony. Giant tables sat with pizza, punch, and ice cream. Giant kegs of draught beer and light beer, and three cartons of Morley Cigarettes sat on the table: one regular, one light, and one menthol. Pound Cake looked disapprovingly at the table. Doctor Stable shook his head. Pinkie Pie threw her hooves in the air. “What? You’re sixteen now. It can’t all just be little kid stuff at your parties anymore!” Pound opened his mouth to protest, but a giant white flash next to one of the bouncy houses distracted him. Pumpkin Cake, Vinyl Scratch, Nurse Redheart, Juan, Reynaldo, Professor Fossil, and Rarity appeared, teleported by an exhausted and sweaty Walkabout. “Hell yeah! Somepony knows how to party!” Vinyl Scratch exclaimed. She floated one of the cigarettes over to her mouth, which self-ignited as she puffed on it, and floated a red cup over to the keg and filled with alcohol, taking a giant gulp. Pinkie smiled. “You know, smoking really irritates me,” said Pound Cake. “We’re outside,” said Pumpkin Cake flatly. “Hello, by the way.” “I don’t mean that it irritates my lungs; though it does do that, too,” said Pound Cake, ignoring his sister’s greeting. “It irritates me that those tobacco companies exploit addiction and kill ponies to make money.” Pumpkin raised an eyebrow. “I own some tobacco company stock, you know. From what my advisors tell me, they make great money.” “They do? What are their EPS and P/E ratios?” asked Featherweight, smiling, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from politics. “I’ve been meaning to diversify my portfolio, and—” Rainbow Dash and Pound Cake shot Featherweight a menacing glance, and he blushed, shirking back. “You and all your stupid money!” Hoops exclaimed, hovering above Pumpkin Cake. “It wasn’t enough to take over Mareicopa; now you’re a greedy mining magnate, too! You use loopholes to avoid taxes while the poor starve to death!” “I pay what the tax law says: no more, no less. This isn’t kindergarten where you can bully me into giving you my lunch money, you idiot jock,” Pumpkin scoffed, pointing at Hoops’ basketball cutie mark. “Destitute ponies are going uninsured, without medical care, while you’re earning millions of bits from mining government land and avoiding your fair share of taxes. We could use that money to finally provide universal health care in this country. It’s a health crisis,” said Doctor Stable. Pumpkin Cake scowled at the doctor. “Health crisis? Pumpkin Cake helped save forty thousand lives, Doctor Stable. That’s more than you for your entire career,” said Nurse Redheart. “You’ve done nothing but add red tape to hospitals that makes it harder to heal patients.” “Legislating proper patient malpractice protections and insurance regulations isn’t ‘red tape;’ it’s common sense harm reduction. Just like the magic laws,” said Doctor Stable. “Oi! Those magic laws are rubbish. Laws banning magic, smoking, abortions, pornos… they’re practically turning me home country into a penal colony again!” Walkabout shouted. “Teleporation is a dangerous spell. Crooks always use it to get away from police, or zap them up into the air. It’s no surprise that you know that spell,” said Raindrops. She pointed accusingly at Walkabout’s cutie mark: a small burst of white teleport flashes. Against his navy blue coat, the mark bore a striking resemblance to the constellation adorning the national flag of his native Oatstralia. “Guys guys guys guys! Guys!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed as she dashed in-between Pound’s friends and Pumpkin’s friends. “This is supposed to be a party! A celebration! Ponies only become an adult once in their life! Well, unless you count the time when Spike the dragon turned into a big, adult dragon and then turned back into a kid again… but still!” “Ah, yes. Spikey-wikey is of our best gemstone customers,” said Rarity. “Pumpkin and I have generously donated three million bits to the poor and needy all across the world, to refute Doctor Stable and Rainbow Dash’s former flight school bully.” “But you destroy the environment to do it!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, hovering over Rarity. “Yo rainbow mane, Magic Mares is totally eco-friendly cause it’s magic. You don’t need to tell lies to make your case. That’s like, not cool!” said Vinyl Scratch, walking over. Her security guys Juan and Reynaldo joined her, puffing out their chests. Hoops and Dumbbell rushed over to protect the EFA chairpony from possible aggression. A gap now stood between the two groups of ponies like a line of scrimmage at a hoofball game, as they were ready to get into a brawl. But Pinkie Pie stepped in between the two groups, a kazoo hanging from her lips. She blew it with a loud whistle and yelled, “Delay of party, unsportsmare-like conduct: fifteen yard penalty!” Her arms stretched out like a rubber band to exactly fifteen yards as she pushed Rainbow Dash and Vinyl Scratch away from each other. Everypony on both sides laughed, easing the tension. “Aren’t y’all both fightin’ off the zebras together in Tall Tale? The EFA militia and the Mareicopa Militia? Why not talk about that? Least y’all have somethin’ in common,” said Applejack, who had just walked up. “Applejack!” Pound Cake exclaimed. “I didn’t think you’d make it to my party!” He flew over and gave her a big hug. “It ain’t just your party, Pound Cake. It’s Pumpkin’s, too,” said Applejack, grinning. Pumpkin Cake teleported over and gave Applejack a hug, as well. Applejack smiled and slipped out from between them. Soon, Pound and Pumpkin found that they were left hugging just each other, for the first time in several months. They both didn’t let go for several minutes. The rest of the party was less tense after the alcohol started flowing, and after Pinkie Pie enforced a strict “no talking politics” rule. Anypony who acted up was muzzled. Literally, Pinkie Pie would shove a muzzle over their mouth. That only had to happen once, to Hoops, and the rest of them got the message. So the topics for discussion were varied. It turned out that the groups actually had much in common. Vinyl Scratch discussed music with Lyra Heartstrings and Bon Bon. Nurse Redheart and Doctor Stable both reminisced about Ponyville General Hospital. Hoops and Dumbbell swapped stories with Juan and Reynaldo about crazy ponies that they’d encountered in their bodyguard jobs. Walkabout and Raindrops, both target shooters, talked about their favorite guns. Professor Fossil and Featherweight had an interesting discussion about paleontology, which fascinated Featherweight. The sharp young stallion was one of the few ponies Fossil had met who didn’t start off such conversation by asking, “Oh, paleontology? So like Daring Do, right?” Both groups also discussed their common fight against the Zebras on the west coast of Equestria. “They’ve landed on the shores outside of town a few times, and captured a few small suburbs here and there, but the city itself so well guarded that it’ll never fall. Our EFA guys have helped build barricades and roadblocks, and they do flyovers and report any zebra formations,” said Pound Cake. Pumpkin nodded. “I go into Tall Tale a lot in between shifts at Starswirl Peak. They’ve really tightened up security there. Other than a few small sabotage acts, everything is holding together.” “The cops just really violate the Equestrian zebras’ civil rights to do that,” said Lyra Heartstrings. Pinkie Pie’s ears perked up as she was about to go grab some more muzzles. But, surprisingly, everypony in both of the groups nodded at Rainbow Dash’s statement. “There are good ways to police, and bad ways to police, but racially profiling an entire group of people—whether zebras or unicorns—is a bad way to police,” said Raindrops. “It turns those communities against you.” “The key to this war, I believe, is munitions and weapons technology,” said Professor Fossil. “Throughout history, that’s been one of the decisive factors in any war. It was how the ponies won so many wars against the buffalo. Our Mareicopa fighters in the bedroom community of Bellemule learned a difficult lesson about how capable the Zebra potion chemists are. Though they’re lacking in tanks and armor, the Zebra Empire has advanced chemical weapons, an advanced navy, and advanced warplanes.” “Thanks to Jet Set and Upper Crust,” Pound Cake scoffed. “Their treason and corruption case still hasn’t even gone to trial yet.” “They certainly haven’t run their business in a way that I would’ve. It is better to deal with honesty and integrity, than to conduct shady deals,” said Rarity. Pumpkin Cake said, “It’s a military-industrial racket. JSUC makes money from a war, so they do everything to make sure that the warring powers stay in power so they can keep selling them weapons. It’s at the expense of the taxpayers and dead soldiers.” The EFA members nodded. “Filthy Rich is the same, stealing farms to build stores,” said Dumbbell. The muzzled Hoops nodded. “If that bugger had come ‘round me family’s ranch in Oatstralia, I’d have zapped him right into the dunny, ‘cause that’s where pieces of shit like him belong!” Walkabout exclaimed. Everypony laughed. Applejack drank a mug of apple cider as she listened to the discussion between Pound’s group of friends and Pumpkin’s group of friends. From watching the ponies interact with each other, she gained a valuable insight. Though they were at each other’s throats when they’d first arrived, after everypony had a few to drink, and after they’d been reminded of their common Zebra enemy, they all relaxed. They even agreed on many things. It reminded Applejack a lot of two dogs that she had had in Appleloosa: Kerdo and Miss Peabody. Unlike Wynona, who’d been a border collie, they were both labradors. The two dogs would always fight over everything: the scraps from the table, who got to sleep at the foot of Applejack’s bed, who got the best chew toys. They’d mark their territory and growl and bark at each other for even the slightest perceived offense. Their infighting only subsided when the fox came around the orchard to eat squirrels. Then their pack hunting instincts would kick in. The dogs would cooperate when trying to catch the fox. Miss Peabody would chase the fox up a hill, knowing that Kerdo was waiting at the top to ambush him. But the fox was too clever, and always eluded them. He would leave and come back later when the dogs were inside for the night. Soon, the dogs would return to their rowdy selves. For now, the EFA and the Mareicopa Militia were working together to kill the ‘fox’ in Tall Tale. But what happened once the war with the zebras was over? When there was no more fox, would the dogs tear each other apart? Applejack finished her mug of cider and poured another one. Alcohol would help her not to think about it. Tall Tale: February 2026 General Spitfire flew high in the air above Tall Tale, accompanied by two bodyguards. From this high above, she could see the defensive barricades and trenches all around the city, to prevent forces from any of the Zebra-held suburbs infiltrating the city limits. Guards searched all civilian cars entering the city for weapons. Six Equestrian Navy battleships had blocked off the mouth of the Tall Tale bay. The crews inspected the cargo of all civilian freighters coming into the bay, to ensure that no zebra fighters tried to sneak in as stowaways. The war had slowed down the shipping industry, but business was business, and it continued as well as it could. The Equestrian Navy did its best to ensure that life in Tall Tale and Vanhoover could go on as normal, and the inspection ponies had gotten their ship sweeps down to an exact science, shooting for a goal of a thirty minute or less wait for each ship. The Zebra Naval fleet, which was normally just a few kilometers away out at sea, and often launched rockets at the city, was nowhere to be seen. General Soarin had reported that their last known location was out in the deep water. That’s weird, Spitfire thought. If anything, they’d be right outside the city, as close to our ships as possible, to stir up trouble during the trial, wouldn’t they? It was indeed odd. But, unlike early in the war when the Equestrian Navy had suffered heavy losses, it was now stronger. The Equestrian Navy had bought some of the newest carriers from the friendly nation of Trotland, whose naval capabilities were on par with the Zebra Empire. Were it not for the Uneighted Kingdom’s own colonial ambitions and sectarian religious conflicts in its own backyard, the Prime Minister would have likely declared war on the Zebra Empire to assist Equestria. But the role of Equestria’s Stirrupean allies in the war was mainly limited to intelligence services, arms supply, and other ‘moral support.’ That was less than Spitfire wanted, but were it not for the newest ships and the help from the foreign spy agencies, Tall Tale and Vanhoover might already have been lost. Even with the griffons defeated, Equestria and its allies were still evenly-matched with the emboldened Zebra Empire in Spitfire’s estimation. Equestria had new ships and armaments from Stirrup, ground troops from the Second Duchy, and volunteer battalions like the Copa Militia and Equestrians For Action. She only wished that the Diamond Dogs hadn’t withdrawn support. Spitfire checked her hoofwatch. The court would announce the results of Zecora’s lawsuit at noon. She would be there to help coordinate the national guard response to any potential protest or rioting. If the trial results didn’t go Zecora’s way, this could incite the people of Tall Tale to riot. The chaos might provide a chance for an internal insurrection, or a potential cover for an external invasion, which some of the more extreme zebra residents of Tall Tale might greet as a ‘liberation.’ Thankfully, the national guard had been preparing for such an event for several months. The navy, army, and volunteer battalions would protect the city from external threats, while the police and national guard would protect the city from internal threats. General Spitfire landed on the streets of Tall Tale with her bodyguards. The local weather teams had scheduled a drizzly day in the city, at Spitfire’s insistence, to lessen the number of ponies on the streets who could cause trouble. Sparse raindrops sprinkled Spitfire’s mane as the smell of rain entered her nose. It was unseasonably warm despite the rain, and a thermometer at a local bank read 50 degrees fahrenheit. Spitfire had wanted it to be colder and snowy, but the pegasi weren’t able to oblige, as they’d been short on workers. As usual. Equestria had paid a terrible price for Cloudsdale and Las Pegasus seceding, Spitfire thought. The crowds in front of the courthouse had already swelled to several thousand. Two protest groups each held picket signs and shouted at one another, though no violence had erupted aside from a few thrown beer bottles and minor scuffles. That was a good sign. The police had cordoned off an area for protest, and the national guard vehicles stood right behind them. Snipers hid on the rooftops, as well, in case they needed to pick off any armed agitators. Police also patrolled the streets and arrested anypony on the spot who was protesting outside of a designated ‘free speech zone.’ They wanted to ensure everything was contained where they could handle it. While thousands of ponies and zebras voiced their support or opposition for Zecora openly, others did it more subtly. Many zebra mares in Tall Tale carried black and white, zebra-stripe print purses. Many zebra stallions wore zebra striped hats or jackets. Even young students carried zebra striped backpacks to school. Not just zebras, but also many ponies wore or carried striped items to show their support for Zecora and against the internment. Spitfire rounded the corner and noticed a street vendor selling zebra-striped merchandise out the wazoo. Zebra print notebooks, pencils, pens, binders, folders, staplers, plates, mugs, placemats, blankets, towels, thermoses, lighters, hats, shirts, jackets, scarves, and hoodies. Zebras and ponies lined up around the block to buy them. The zebra-print umbrellas were the best-sellers. Spitifire had seen thousands of at the protest. Despite the shower, thousands of ponies and zebras were determined to speak their minds. At least thirty thousand people now stood outside of the courthouse and around the streets, The court’s announcement was now five minutes away, at noon. Spitfire and her bodyguards flew off to the local national guard command center, located at the nearby police station. She wanted to ensure that everything was ready, regardless of the decision. Were the internment ruled legal, the zebras might riot. But if it were ruled illegal, then Spitfire would have to start letting thousands of interned zebras go. While some of them were probably innocent, she knew that many of them were in fact saboteurs or terrorists who, if let go, could endanger the city of Tall Tale. Though Spitfire might be forced to set some or all of them free, she could still try to keep a close eye on them. Zecora and her attorney Zarek stood among the crowds, in the very front, right behind a line of police ponies who were blocking the steps. Nopony but officials had been allowed in or out of the courthouse in days, and security teams had swept the building multiple times with magic detection spells and bomb-sniffing dogs. The Tall Tale Superior Court justices were about to give their ruling to a court spokesmare. The spokesmare would then address the crowd with the ruling. “No internment! No internment!” “Lock them up! Lock them up!” A line of police separated the two sides, preventing scuffles, but not the verbal battle, as both sides competed for volume. “This is our day,” said Zarek, turning to Zecora. “We can always appeal if they win, and they can always appeal if we win, but the Supreme Court of Equestria isn’t likely to reverse the Superior Court’s decision.” Zecora nodded. She was well aware of the importance of the ruling here. And she knew how important stopping the Zebra Empire from capturing Tall Tale and Vanhoover was. The internment, however, was not the answer. In her opinion, too many zebra civilians were being locked up without trials for the mere crime of having stripes, and for happening to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It had happened to Zecora herself, just before she went out on her mission to assassinate Zaporizhia. If it could happen to her, as pro-Equestria and anti-Zaporizhia as she was, then it could happen to anypony. A reporter from the Tall Tale Times, Yell O. Journalism, who had initially written a hit piece on Zecora, walked through the crowd to her. “Zecora! Care to make a comment?” “Go away. To you and your paper, I have nothing to say,” muttered Zecora. “How does it feel that you may be single-hoofedly removing Tall Tale’s best protection against the Zebra onslaught?” “She said GO AWAY!” Zarek shouted, a vein popping out of his forehead. “You and your paper have set back zebra-pony race relations in Equestria by fifty years!” Mr. Journalism, after several more incendiary questions which elicited nothing but silence from Zecora and anger from Zarek, scurried off to the Times office. Probably to write another hit piece, Zecora figured. The wooden double-doors to the courthouse swung open, and the official court spokesmare walked up to a podium at the height of the steps. The crowds slowly quieted down as she cleared her throat into the microphone. “Thank you, everypony,” she said. “Today, the results of the case Zecora v. Equestria will be announced. The court deliberated for many weeks on this, and months have passed since the trial, to give the National Guard enough time to prepare for any possible outcome. Now, in coming to this decision, the justices debated extensively, and weighed all of the evidence that both sides presented. The primary question in this case was whether or not the indefinite internment of certain individuals suspected of anti-Equestrian activity could be lawfully justified, in keeping with wartime provisions for civil liberties. “In answering this question, the court considered three key tests which the government must apply. Test one: ‘is there an existential threat to Equestria’s territorial integrity?’ Test two: ‘is an internment necessary to prevent or significantly lessen the threat?’ Test three: ‘is the internment carried out in the least-restrictive manner possible, that infringes the least on citizens’ civil rights?’ The answer to all three must be ‘yes’ for the interment to be lawful. “The first test, was whether or not an existential threat to Equestria’s territorial integrity exists. Given the stated intentions of the Zebra Emperor to capture the ‘zebra cities’ of Tall Tale and Vanhoover, and given that Zebra forces have already occupied some suburbs and swathes of countryside, the answer is clearly ‘yes.’ “The second test is whether or not an internment is necessary to prevent or significantly lessening the existential threat. The court found that, while the internment might have been overreaching in some respects, the internment was necessary in other respects. Namely, there are thousands of suspected zebra saboteurs and terrorists in Tall Tale. Most of them do not speak Equish, nor do they have proper documentation of their citizenship status. “On the battlefield, this would put them squarely in the category of enemy combatant, to which normal legal protections don’t apply. Instead, the international treaties regarding humane treatment of POW’s apply. In an urban, non-battlefield setting, however, the lines are more blurred. Giving trials to all suspected saboteurs and terrorists would be impractical, particularly if they lack Equestrian documentation and don’t speak Equish. Thus, the court found that yes, the internment is necessary on these grounds. “The final test is whether or not the internment is carried out in the least restrictive manner possible. Now, this was an area that the court scrutinized very closely, especially given the flatly wrong decision to detain Zecora, a true Equestrian loyalist. However, the military has since taken concrete steps to ensure that similar situations will not repeat. All detained zebras are now given the chance to speak to counsel, and are given the chance to prove their citizenship. If their citizenship is proven, they may request a trial. Hundreds of zebras have already requested trials. A few of them have been exonerated, and a few have been proven guilty of terrorist acts, while most are still awaiting trial. “What is more telling than that, though, is that thousands of zebras in the internment camps have not proven or attempted to prove their citizenship. Though this doesn’t necessarily prove anything nefarious, it does provide a good indication of the sorts of zebras who are being interned. Now, obviously, not every single non-citizen or undocumented zebra is an enemy combatant. Normally, undocumented zebras would simply be deported to the Zebra Empire after processing, but given that Equestria is at war with the Empire, that is impossible. Given the complex situation involved, and given the military’s positive response to civil liberty concerns, the court can affirm that, as of this date, the internment is being carried out in the least restrictive manner possible, that respects Equestrian citizens’ civil liberties as much as possible. “In light of all three tests being passed, the court has ruled in favor of Equestria in the case of Zecora v. Equestria.” A mix of cheers and jeers rose from the ponies and zebras in the crowd. Zecora’s heart sank. Her case had failed, and the internment would continue. She thought of all of the zebra immigrants who Chilly Waters and other ‘sea turtles’ like him had ferried over. They, like Zecora herself, had escaped from the vicious religious tyranny to find a better life in Equestria. But suspicion had fallen on them. Perhaps they’d been unable to secure citizenship. Maybe the line was too long, or they didn’t qualify for some reason. Equestria should grant them asylum as refugees, not locked them up in internment camps with actual traitors and terrorists just because they couldn’t speak Equish and weren’t citizens. The crowds booed and jeered at one another. “Zeebs in jail! Zeebs in jail!” the pro-internment crowd cheered, throwing their hats in the air in victory. The police pushed back at them as some of them tried to assault zebras, who threw zebra-print items across the police line. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. It wasn’t from the crowds or the police. There was another. Zecora turned towards the courthouse, and so did the crowds. The spokesmare lie on the ground dead behind the podium, blood splattering everywhere. The two guards by the door lay dead, blood pooling and dripping down the steps. Six zebras ran out of the courthouse, carrying assault rifles. The nine black-robed justices of the Tall Tale Superior Court walked out, sheer terror on their faces. Behind them, nine more zebras carried assault rifles, pointed straight at the back of the judges’ heads. The hostage-takers stood under the marble arch that covered the outside of the courthouse door, to ensure pegasus snipers couldn’t take headshots at them from above. Zecora had expected to see these zebras wearing uniforms or something. But they weren’t. They wore no clothes and no uniforms, and no identifying marks other than their regular zebra stripes. Even their guns were odd. At first, Zecora thought that they didn’t have guns at all. But then she realized that yes, they all did have assault rifles, but they were painted with black and white zebra stripes. This way, when the zebra wasn’t holding the gun his hooves, and slung it over his back, it blended in with his coat. One zebra walked up to the podium and spoke. He, too, was wearing no clothes, but Zecora soon recognized his voice. He was the hateful preacher who had helped instigate the riots months earlier. “Zebras of Tall Tale!” he shouted into the microphone. “You have just heard blasphemous lies spoken by the evil pony representative against the chosen people of god! They wish to lock you all in cages, to deport you, to kill you! They fear you, for in their wicked ways they do not wish to live amongst those who walk the path of righteousness. But the day of reckoning has come. The evil, bloodthirsty griffons have been annihilated. Now, the ones who set the plague of the beasts upon zebrakind: the ponies, shall face their divine justice! “The ponies have sought to keep our people from working the fields and the stockyards. Look at the abuse against Zebra Empire citizens. They’ve committed no crime but having stripes and refusing to become ‘citizens,’ thereby receiving the stamp of the great aggressor. Equestria has sought to keep our people from positions of power; look at the Tall Tale police force, which is not even 10% zebra even though a third of the city’s residents are. They have sought to keep our people from wealth. The average zebra family earns ten thousand Equestrian bits less per year than the average pony family. The internment is merely the final step in the ponies’ ultimate goal: to cleanse their land of god’s chosen people!” The crowd went wild. there were boos, jeers, cheering, and all sorts of chants. The police still stood by, not trying to free the justices, lest they end up accidentally firing on civilians. The priest concluded, “But we have fought back. This is the final, prophetic war of the zebra race. In this war, your uniform is your stripes. Your enemies are those without them who seek to persecute you. Tall Tale and Vanhoover are now the newest cities in the Zebra Empire, ruled by the savior of the zebra people, Emperor Zaporizhia! And these so-called justices—who make a mockery of justice—shall face the only true law and judgement in the universe: the law of God. May he cast them into everlasting fire!” Nine bullets fired from the rifles all at once, and the justices fell to the floor. The police drew their own guns and fired back at the podium with the preacher and the zebra executors. But most of them only had rubber bullets for crowd control, and only a few had real firearms. The zebras quickly outgunned the police, as dozens more armed zebras swarmed out of the courthouse. Dozens of ponies standing in the pro-internment crowd fell to the floor wounded and dead as the zebra executors fired into the crowds to disperse them. The rest of them fled down the streets to escape the hail of bullets. The thousands of zebras and ponies in the protest group, emboldened by this, and with no more police line to stop them, marched towards the police station. General Spitfire’s head spun as police and military officials frantically poured into the police station, giving her updates on the situation in the city of Tall Tale. “...then they executed the judges, seized the courthouse and city hall, and raised the flag of the Zebra Empire,” said a local police lieutenant, himself a mustachioed, overweight zebra named Zealous. As the preacher had pointed out, Tall Tale had few zebra police, but Zealous was one. He attempted to preserve peace and bring reconciliation as the official liaison between the zebra community and the Tall Tale Police Department. “But the good news is that more of my guys arrived, and they have the courthouse surrounded.” Spitfire narrowed her eyebrows. “You said they came out of the courthouse? How’d they get past security with their guns? We’ve swept the courthouse hundreds of times. Even if they’d been invisible, our dogs would’ve sniffed them out. There were absolutely no unauthorized persons in that courthouse when the spokesmare first came out of the building to give the ruling.” Zealous shrugged. “I don’t know. They couldn’t have teleported, either, since the entire building was sealed. But either way, we have a bigger problem right now. A large crowd of rioters is headed this way. You should see for yourself.” Spitfire put on her bulletproof vest and flew out the door with her bodyguards. They ascended high into the air, looking down at the crowd of rioters. Thousands of zebras and hundreds of ponies poured into the street from houses, apartments, and shops along the way. This was a heavily-zebra area of town, and was where many recent immigrants settled. Some ran and screamed in protest, and some rioted, looted, and broke windows. They held black and white umbrellas and picket signs. From up high, it looked like the streets themselves had stripes. Sounds of breaking glass and screaming arose from the city as smoke poured from various buildings. But unlike the riot months ago, this time, there was gunfire erupting all around, too. It resembled a battle more than a mere street riot. Three blocks from the police station, the national guard had set up further barricades, on Spitfire’s order. Unlike the riot police, they had real weapons. The rioters wouldn’t get very far. Spitfire returned to Zealous. “We plan on kettling them,” said Zealous. “We’ll wait until the rioters reach your national guard roadblock. Then, my police guys will close off the street behind them. Then they’ll be trapped. We can search the crowd for weapons and arrest any violent offenders. The rest, we’ll let go from the kettle, but only in groups of a dozen or so at a time, so it’ll break up the protest. Hopefully the riot will let off steam.” Local winemaker Berry Punch and her zebra migrant workers ran through the streets, in both panic and rage. The execution at the courthouse had scared off some of the workers. Others, it had emboldened. When the shooting started, Berry Punch saw only three ways to go: one, with the pro-internment bigots who’d gone to do some anti-zebra thing that she didn’t know. That was out, obviously. Two, she could go by herself down a side street, which might be dangerous. Or three, she could follow her vineyard workers as they raced towards the police station. So she decided to go for safety in numbers and follow her workers. Her workers had yet to break the law in this protest. Well, other than immigration and tax law, that was. Hopefully they wouldn’t be targets. But in Tall Tale, especially now, it seemed like everypony or zebra was a target. Ponies targeted zebras. Zebras targeted ponies. Religious zebras targeted zebras who weren’t faithful enough. Bigoted ponies targeted ponies who were tolerant of zebras. A zebra-stripe baseball cap sat atop Berry Punch’s head, as she held a zebra-stripe umbrella in her mouth. The wind and the speed of her running soon blew it away, but at this point, getting wet with rain was the least of her concerns. The crowd ran towards a barricade of three national guard armored personnel carriers, their hoofbeats clopping loudly on the concrete. Dozens of guardsponies sat atop the APCs, their guns trained on the crowd. Berry Punch was worried that they’d shoot. The protesters came to a stop three meters away from the vehicles. A national guardspony warned on the megaphone not to come any closer or they would open fire. Berry Punch turned to walk back, but a line of police officers made their way across the street behind the protesters, setting up an orange net from one street sign to the other. The protesters were trapped on this block, Berry Punch realized. About ten meters away, Berry Punch noticed out of a corner of her eye that a manhole cover in the street opened up, and about a dozen zebras climbed out one at a time, dispersing throughout the crowd. She didn’t think much of it. Perhaps they were sewer workers, she figured. “You are unlawfully assembled,” a police officer called through a megaphone. “You will be subject to search, and arrested if contraband items such as firearms are found.” That was the wrong thing to say. The zebras in the crowd started booing. Suddenly, there was a muffled gunshot. One of the police officers fell to the floor dead, shot through the heart. Another fell to the ground wounded with a gunshot in his knee. Three zebra stallions ran over and whacked his body with the metal shafts of their umbrellas, kicking him in the stomach. Some of the kettled zebras and ponies cheered. Others screamed. Another officer fell. Then another. Berry Punch took cover behind a bench, waiting for them to return fire. A single tear gas cannister flew into the crowd, but just added to the confusion. The police fired rubber bullets, and were fired back at with real bullets. Soon, the national guard soldiers began falling to gunfire, as well. Finally, out of the corner of her eye, Berry Punch saw one of the shooters, standing among the protesters. Despite holding a military rifle, he wore no uniform, nothing but his stripes. His gun was easy to miss, as it was also painted with stripes. Between all of the striped umbrellas, clothes, and zebras, it didn’t stand out like a gun normally would. Since it was silenced, it didn’t make much noise. But it was unmistakable, as was the implication as she spotted even more camouflaged shooters: the Zebra Empire forces were inside of Tall Tale. Inside of the police station, Spitfire ducked behind a desk as the windows shattered with a loud crash, and gunfire popped off outside. The police kettle had failed miserably, along with the national guard lines. The crowd of enraged zebras were now just outside the police station, and some within the crowd were firing at it. Spitfire gazed out in between volleys of shooting and was puzzled to see no guns, even with her sharp eye. But after a bullet grazed her mane, she saw its source: a zebra-striped, camouflaged gun. Just as soon as she noticed it, she lost track of it again in the sea of black and white. This was no longer a protest or even a riot, Spitfire realized. It was a military action. Zebra Empire soldiers, wearing no uniforms, were using the civilian protesters as living shields. It went against all of the international laws of war, not that Zaporizhia had ever paid those any heed. In his mind, all zebras were combatants against the griffons and their pony ‘masters,’ and their black-and-white stripes were their uniforms, and they only obeyed the laws of their god, who proclaimed the zebras his chosen people. To Spitfire, it sounded just like the unicorn master race speeches that Blueblood used to give. Zealous slinked under windows and desks as he rushed over to Spitfire. “We can’t hold any of the lines out there!” he exclaimed. “There’s armed terrorists in the crowd! Our snipers have taken a few out, but they just keep coming. Our officers can only fire rubber bullets and tear gas at the crowd, because we can barely see who’s a terrorist and who’s just a peaceful protester!” “Dammit!” Spitfire shouted. Zealous shook his head. “There’s even worse news. The crowds have taken the train station and the power plant, and raised the Zebra Empire flag. But we know how the terrorists are getting in now. One of my contacts at the power plant saw a group of fifty armed zebras break in through the basement. Apparently, they snuck in through a secret underground tunnel.” Spitfire narrowed her eyebrows. “Alright. Get every last officer out there with rubber bullets. Fire teargas cannisters until even their grandchildren have spicy tears. Bring out the unicorns with the screech projection spells and make the mobs go deaf if you have to. Get the SK mages with shape-changing spells and start turning the rioters into frogs and mice. These terrorists might have made it so we can’t fight back with deadly force without harming civilians... but we can use every single non-lethal weapon we have, dammit!” Zealous nodded and ran back towards his command post. Twilight Sparkle gulped coffee as she listened to the radio reports from the city of Tall Tale and Vanhoover in disbelief. Both cities were under siege from groups of protesters, rioters, and Zebra Empire military, but it was so unclear who was who, that the news reporters were confused. “This is Golden Voice with local station WVHN reporting live from Vanhoover, where the protests over the legal decision in nearby Tall Tale have spread to this northwestern island city with a significant zebra minority as well. On the main street of town there are confrontations. Buildings have been burned. Right now there’s a group of… well, I don’t know if they’re rioters or military but they have stripes, and many are holding striped objects that I can’t quite make out from here. Is that a weapon? No, that’s just an umbrella, I think. No wait, there’s a weapon! There’s a weapon! And now gunfire! It’s a street battle here in Vanhoover…” Twilight Sparkle shook her head. How on earth did these Zebra Empire forces infiltrate the two largest cities on Equestria’s northwest coast? The internment was a difficult enough decision to make, but at least when Twilight Sparkle agreed to allow it, she thought that it would make a difference in Tall Tale and Vanhoover. After all, they’d rounded up thousands of alleged terrorists and saboteurs. The internment was supposed to keep the cities safe. But even still the cities were under attack from within? Enraged, normal civilian protesters and even rioters were to be expected, but this was a large-scale military assault. It didn’t make any sense to Twilight. At least, not until she got an unexpected visitor. “Princess Twilight, the Alpha of the Diamond Dogs is here,” said her secretary. Twilight sighed. “Send him in, I guess.” She was unsure of what Rover wanted at a time like this. Perhaps he had seen the chaos erupt in Tall Tale and was going to try to get a better deal on Starswirl Mountain. Depending on how bad it got, Twilight Sparkle might have to concede and give him unconditional, environmental-law-free mining rights to whatever Pumpkin Cake and Rarity hadn’t gotten yet. The moles be damned; her people were in danger. Rover walked through the door, smiling. “Make it quick, Rover. As you’ve probably heard, I have quite the situation on my hooves. So unless you’re here to offer me your support—” “Me already try offer support. But you break treaty and replace Diamond Dogs with stupid unicorns with stupid magic ‘cause stupid moles can’t stand stupid strip mine!” Rover shouted. “The treaty was very clear, Rover. It said the moles couldn’t be harmed. Fluttershy and I followed the treaty when we wanted to make you conduct reclamation. It’s not my fault that it would’ve been too costly. Now depending on how the situation evolves in Tall Tale, we might be willing to make another conces—” “Here what Diamond Dogs think of moles and your broken treaty!” Rover shouted. He reached into his red vest pocket, pulled out a small, furry thing, and tossed it onto Twilight Sparkle’s desk, where it landed with a squeak like a chew toy. It was tan and had brown spots all over it. Its spotted fur was rended and stained by blood from canine teeth marks. Twilight’s jaw dropped. She recalled Applejack saying how Wynona used to bring dead rodents onto her doorstep as presents. Dogs liked to do that, though this dead spotted mole was hardly a ‘present’ from Rover. “Funny thing, moles,” said Rover with a sneer. “Moles dig; Diamond Dogs dig. Moles undermine treaty; Diamond Dogs undermine Tall Tale and Vanhoovsies!” Twilight’s heart skipped a beat. Rover smiled. “We dig tunnels for zeebies to sneak in. We dig for months, wait for Zecorie’s verdict! But not just Tall Tale and Vanhoovsies, either…” The telephone on Twilight Sparkle’s desk rang. She reached for it with her hoof, but glanced up at Rover. “Answer phone, Twilight,” said Rover. “It rude to keep Emperor Zappy waiting.” She picked up the phone. “Hello?” “This is Emperor Zaporizhia of the Zebra Empire, the exalted savior of the chosen people of god. And I presume that this is Twilight Sparkle, the devilish alicorn ruler of the most wretched nation on the planet?” “Your words, not mine,” said Twilight. “Excellent. I trust that you’re aware that the cities of Tall Tale and Vanhoover will become the newest additions to the Zebra Empire?” Twilight chuckled. “I’m not giving up those cities so easily, Zaporizhia. You might have committed dozens of war crimes in trying to seize them, but our riot police will hold out against your troops.” Zaporizhia replied, “At the end of the day, though, they are merely riot police with tear gas canisters and rubber bullets, all wearing uniforms that make them easy targets. Whereas my soldiers are trained in combat and armed with grenades and real bullets, wearing the natural camouflage of the zebra race. Your cities are doomed to fall.” Twilight groaned. “Did you just call to gloat, or did you have something to tell me?” “I’m calling to offer you a peace treaty. You will surrender Tall Tale and Vanhoover to the Zebra Empire, and Starswirl Mountain to the Diamond Dogs, in exchange for getting to keep the rest of Equestria. Your pony citizens who remain in the Zebra cities will be treated fairly, far fairer than you’ve treated the zebras, in fact. Though they will be required to pay a tax for being non-zebras living in Zebra lands.” Twilight started, “Ponies are a majority in those cities. They aren’t ‘zebra cities.’ There’s only 30% zebras even in Tall Tale, and even half of them hate you and your relig—” “I’m not finished. If you refuse this treaty, chemical weapons will be detonated in Manehattan. The casualties will be in the tens of thousands.” Twilight Sparkle stuttered, “Ou-our pegasi will destroy your bombers in a dogfight before they can drop their payloads. You might, I mean, you might have a superior navy, but even with your newer planes, our pegasi are second to none.” Zaporizhia said, “My plan doesn’t hinge on whether or not my bombers can make it past your pegasi. Our new Diamond Dog allies have planted the bombs underground. Recall that Manehattan has a subway system. One word from me and the Diamond Dogs will tunnel into the metro and detonate the bombs, killing every single passenger. Machine-gun wielding dogs wearing gas masks will be posted at every exit to ensure no escaping and maximum casualties. If there is any attempt to make a public warning, shut down the metro, or reduce its ridership, the bombs will be detonated immediately.” “I will never give in to terrorism! NEVER! DO YOU HEAR ME!? YOU FALSE IDOL!” Twilight Sparkle practically screamed at the top of her lungs until her throat was dry. Zaporizhia chuckled. “Yes, I understand that after what happened with Cloudsdale, you are hesitant to give in to terrorism… publicly. Privately, however, nopony needs to know about my threat today except for you, Rover, and God himself. Not even Luna has to know. I’ve been so kind as to offer you an out to save face with your population. The publicly-stated reason for your surrender can simply be because of how brilliantly I captured the cities of Tall Tale and Vanhoover, and because you don’t think there’s a chance of ever recapturing them back without massive civilian casualties. Which, honestly, wouldn’t exactly be a lie, now, would it?” “You’re wrong,” said Twilight Sparkle, taking a sip of her coffee. “Vanhoover and Tall Tale will hold, and we’ll defuse those bombs in Manehattan. Our unicorns have all sorts of magic spells. Force fields, teleportation, even intangibility. We can get the metro riders out in time.” Though she tried to convey confidence through her voice, Alpha Rover was right there, sensing her emotions with his eyes and his nose. As a dog, he could smell her fear, and he smiled. As if somehow keying off of Rover through the phone, Zaporizhia chuckled. “Very well. You have the rest of today and tonight to make your decision. If not, the bombs will go off in Manehattan tomorrow morning during rush hour. They are hidden so well, that I doubt your bomb squads could find them. Oh, and don’t try to torture any information from Alpha Rover, either. If you lay a hoof on him, we will detonate the bombs. When you’ve decided on the treaty, you know how to reach me.” Twilight Sparkle hung up the phone and glanced over at Alpha Rover. She wanted to telekinetically strangle him. She wanted to cast a dark magic spell to torture him. But she couldn’t, or Zaporizhia would detonate the bombs. Instead, she yelled at him, “Get out!” and pointed towards the door. Alpha Rover scurried away, leaving Twilight by herself. Her thoughts raced as she weighed her options. She could attempt to hold Tall Tale and Vanhoover, and deal with whatever ramifications the bombs brought. Perhaps there was no bomb, and Zaporizhia was bluffing. But if there was, the consequences could be disastrous. Thousands of ponies rode the subway every day. Depending on the extent of the bombs and the time of day that they went off, the casualties could be in the tens of thousands. It had the potential to be even deadlier than Chupacabra Stadium. But it was manageable, and Twilight thought it was better than giving up yet two more of Equestria’s largest cities. For that plan to work, though, there had to be some chance of holding Tall Tale and Vanhoover. And the news reports only gave a partial picture. Her scouts and government sources had yet to report to her, and might not for at least an hour. She clearly needed more information. So she would visit Tall Tale herself. General Spitfire and her two bodyguards were holed up in the top floor of the police station in Tall Tale, as gunfire rang out in the streets. They had barred the windows, blocked the doors to the stairway, and were waiting for some sort of signal. They got it a few minutes ago, when a dozen zebra soldiers had stormed the police station, having drank a speed potion that made them almost impossible to hit. But on her wings, Spitfire was still faster, and had flown up the stairs to the top floor. A loud boom sounded in the stairway below them, as the door cracked on its hinges. “Grenade!” Spitfire’s bodyguard shouted. He threw himself in front of her, as another explosion burst and the door flew off. Shrapnel and debris scattered, and he grunted as blood trickled out from a wound in his side. That could’ve been me, Spitfire thought. Her ears rang from the explosion, and she got to her hooves and rushed with her second bodyguard up the stairs to the roof. The pounding of zebra hooves filled the hallway behind them. Spitfire flew out onto the rooftop as rain pelted her mane, and her remaining bodyguard followed behind, pointing his gun and firing off several shots. He ducked behind a boxy radiator as machine gun fire sprayed the metal sides. Spitfire zipped after him, just as three Zebra soldiers emerged from the stairwell. General Spitfire weighed her options. She could either stay and fight them off herself, or she could try to fly away from the city. But that presented challenges, as flying could subject herself to gunfire from enemy snipers. She was far too valuable of an asset to lose, and she cursed herself for not evacuating the police station as soon as the ‘protesters’ got too close. Her bodyguard returned fire from his own assault rifle, hitting one of the zebras. The other two took cover behind the door. Spitfire, who only had a hoofgun sidearm, reached for it, but the bodyguard shook his head. “Stay behind this radiator. Don’t risk your life,” he urged. One of the two remaining zebra fighters reached into his zebra-striped saddlebag and removed a striped grenade, pulled the pin, and threw it right towards them. It landed directly behind the radiator box, merely three meters away: too far to reach and throw back at the enemy in time before it exploded, but too close to survive an explosion from. Spitfire winced, ready for the end. Instead, the grenade flew up into the air, along with both of the soldiers. Spitfire, too, felt a strange force lifting her up, but flapped her wings against it. She glanced over at the zebras. They were in free-fall, except falling up into the sky, almost as if… “Gravity spells. They always come in handy.” “Twilight Sparkle!?” General Spitfire called out. The princess was hovering right beside Spitfire, a purple bubble surrounding her. “I thought you said that you don’t do combat!” Twilight flew over to Spitfire, and extended the force-field around the general and her bodyguard. “I don’t, normally. Even with all my magic, it’s too risky. But I do scout sometimes, just to get a good glimpse of things with my own eyes. Even with telepathy, my scouts can’t tell me everything I need to know. I was out here flying over the city, and I saw you up on the rooftop. I’d recognize that bright yellow coat and fiery mane anywhere. So I sprung into action. I had to save my main mare!” Spitfire smiled. “Thanks. I wouldn’t have been in combat either, but they stormed the police station quicker than I could get out. How does the rest of the city look? I’ve been in the dark myself.” Twilight Sparkle shook her head. “Not good. Come see.” Spitfire nodded and they both flew off over the downtown district. A few bullets ricocheted off of the force field, which Twilight assured was bulletproof. With a pair of binoculars, Spitfire observed the situation. Off in the distance, the Equestrian navy fired on an approaching Zebra Empire battle carrier group. Pegasi and zebra jet fighters soared in the sky, engaged in aerial battle. In the city itself, dead bodies of both zebras and ponies littered the streets in about a 50/50 mix, as the rain mixed with blood. Zebra Empire troops ran through the streets in the thousands, mingling with regular zebra civilians. The tall skyscrapers had giant, striped banners hung from the sides. City hall had a Zebra Empire flag fluttering from it. There was a crowd of tens of thousands of zebras standing, waving flags and cheering. “The zebras are as one people! The zebras are as one people!” they chanted. Spitfire and Twilight Sparkle flew east towards the mountains, and landed near the foot of Starswirl Peak. As they rested under a tree, Twilight spoke. “General Spitfire, what would it take to stop this?” she asked. Spitfire shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess the best option is to occupy our own city with the military, declare martial law, and impose a curfew. That’s still a bad option, though. These ZE soldiers would just hole up in buildings, sniping away at our guys. Even if we kill them all, more could just come through the tunnels. Tall Tale would become a death trap, and thousands of civilians could die. There’s that option, or I guess surrender, but why would we ever sur—” Twilight Sparkle cut Spitfire off. “It’s an untenable situation. These rioters have seized buildings all over town and it would be impossible to dislodge them without unacceptable civilian casualties. They’ve broken every rule in the book and have shown that they have no principles. We have principles, but we’d have to abandon or compromise them to win. So we have to surrender our towns instead of our principles. Zaporizhia only wants Tall Tale and Vanhoover. No other Equestrian cities have more than a 5% zebra population. He couldn’t pull this off again in, say, Fillydelphia or Manehattan.” Spitfire’s jaw dropped. “Tall Tale is the third-largest city in Equestria! Vanhoover is… well, not as big, but still huge! Other than Applewood, they’re our biggest west coast cities. They’re our biggest ports. Surrendering them would be like if you cut off one of your wings.” “It will be painful, yes. But sometimes, an amputation of a limb is needed to save the patient’s life.” Spitfire chuckled. “Yeah, but what would Luna say?” “She’s asleep, and it’s still afternoon. I plan to sign the treaty before she can object.” “What would Equestria say?” “They’ll be upset that we’re losing two cities, but relieved that the war is finally over, relieved that Tall Tale and Vanhoover won’t be under deadly siege, and relieved their family members can finally come home from the battlefield. I expect many protests, a few riots, but even more celebrations and parades.” Spitfire shook her head. “You’re the princess here, not me. I don’t think it’s a good idea. I think it’ll backfire somehow. Equestria has had enough salami slicing. First Canterlot, then Cloudsdale, then Copa might as well be. Now Tall Tale and Vanhoover? Pretty soon, there won’t be any of Equestria left! What’s next, the Donkey Republic? The Cattle Kingdom? I wonder when the earth ponies will take Dodge Junction and Horseshoe Bay and declare an ‘Earth.’” Twilight Sparkle laughed. “Thanks, Spitfire. I needed a good chuckle today.” Spitfire grinned. “Well, it was mostly a joke, but there is some truth to it, don’t you admit?” “I do admit. But you know what? I still believe that Equestria, a nation founded on friendship, is a fundamentally good idea. All three races of ponies living in harmony, plus the crystal ponies, along with zebras, cattle, mules, donkeys, griffons… hey, someday, maybe even the changelings and dragons might decide to join us. The friendship between all sentient races of beings on the planet is something that Equestria should always promote until its final days. “But one thing that I learned about friendship from Princess Celestia is that you can’t force people be your friends. You can try, but you just end up pushing them further away. A long, deadly military campaign to remove the terrorists from Tall Tale and Vanhoover would forever alienate the zebra civilians. Honestly, even the limited internment that we did was excessive, and I now regret doing it, but hindsight is 20/20. “But right now, most of the zebras aren’t totally alienated. The zebra immigrants in Tall Tale and Vanhoover all came to Equestria for a reason, and it certainly wasn’t because they hated us. They came for freedom and opportunity, both religious and economic. Tall Tale and Vanhoover have religious freedom and economic opportunity right now. Come tomorrow, they won’t anymore. Zaporizhia will bring in his religious police, and he’ll impose strict taxes and regulations. He’ll start stoning homosexuals. He’ll ban cigarettes and alcohol. He’ll separate zebras and ponies, because marriage between them is forbidden, and many thousands of zebra and pony intermarriages will be broken. Mixed race children could be killed.” Spitfire scowled. “And that’s terrible! That’s why we have to fight to our final breath to keep Tall—” “We can’t. I wanted to, but I’m now convinced we can’t win this battle with force. Even killing Zaporizhia himself might make things worse, since he could be seen as a martyr. So instead, we’ll defeat the ZE, Zebrism, and Zaporizhia on the ideological battlefield. It isn’t so easy to take freedoms away from people who already have them—Mareicopa proves it. In the Northwest, only a small, loud minority of zebras even want to be ruled by Zaporizhia. Others simply see him as better than the internment, but not the best option. Most of the Equestrian zebras dislike Zaporizhia, because they or their parents fled to Equestria to escape him! “So what happens when Tall Tale is part of the Zebra Empire? Well, those zebras can go to visit their families who stayed back on the Zebrican continent, since they’ll be Zebra citizens again. Zebricans can come to Tall Tale on vacation. And you know what all of them will do?” “Uh… suffer?” Spitfire guessed. “They’ll talk. They’ll tell stories of what it was like to live free in Equestria, to adhere to whatever religion that they saw fit, to speak out against their elected leaders and hold protests against the government. The zebra mares will tell stories of how, in Equestria, they were considered equals to stallions and allowed to vote and receive an education. Do you know how the city of Tall Tale got its name, General Spitfire?” She shook her head. Twilight explained, “Hundreds of years ago, settler ponies from the east were drawn to it because of ‘tall tales.’ Ponies spoke of pink diamonds buried in the mountainside, beautiful forests, lakes of champagne, friendly hairless apes who’d brush ponies’ manes and feed them carrots. Some of those tales were true; some were lies. But the name stuck. And now, once Tall Tale is a ‘zebra city,’ it’ll live up to its name again, as zebras from Tall Tale will tell of how great it used to be as a free, Equestrian city. This will inspire other zebras to seek such freedoms for themselves. ‘They’ll start to question why all of these religious laws are in place, whether God would really want them to live as unhappy puritans, or if He would want them to enjoy all of His creation to the fullest. Then they’ll question Zaporizhia and his lies, and many will determine that he’s a false prophet. He’ll lose the faith of his people and, ultimately, his power itself. Zaporizhia doesn’t know it yet, but by taking Tall Tale and Vanhoover, he’s taking a poison pill that will end him.” General Spitfire nodded. It seemed to be a good argument to her. She did think that Twilight Sparkle might be downplaying the effect of religious ideology. Some zebras might be so brainwashed, that nothing could undo it. And the moderate and atheist zebras and ponies who could make a difference if they stayed would be liable to flee the city anyway. But, as demonstrated right before her very eyes in Tall Tale, it only took a small minority to cause a great deal of trouble. If even 10% of Zebra Empire citizens could be swayed by the Equestrian ideals, that could present a major problem to Zaporizhia. From talking to loyal zebra Equestrian citizens like Zealous, Spitfire knew that the number was way higher than that. They, plus however many unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies decided to remain inside of the newest Zebra Empire-controlled cities, would almost guarantee an uprising. She just hoped that when the revolution against Zaporizhia came, there would be minimal loss of life, and that it would happen as quickly as possible to prevent a genocide. “...but Tall Tale and Vanhoover are free cities and will always remain that at heart. Zaporizhia can never take that away. As for our national park at Starswirl Mountain, it will be missed, but we still have over fifty more parks in the rest of Equestria. “To the zebra citizens in Tall Tale and Vanhoover who wish to leave the northwest, the Second Duchy has pledged to take in refugees and resettle them in a part of the Flatlands, where they will be given plots of land to farm. Zebras are respected in the Second Duchy for their potion-making magic, but be advised that the capital city of Canterlot will remain restricted to unicorns only. All unicorn refugees are free to resettle in Canterlot, as well. “To the pony citizens who wish to leave the northwest, the cities of Mareicopa, Applewood, and Dodge Junction have offered their support. Thanks to the friendly offers of these three Equestrian cities and the Second Duchy, we will resettle all ponies and zebras who wish to leave Tall Tale and Vanhoover. By surrendering to the Zebra Empire, we will ensure peace in Equestria. I understand that this is a difficult transition, but we’ve survived cities separating from Equestria in the past, and we will survive it again. Maybe someday, like Mareicopa did, they might find their way back into our nation once more. Thank you, good night, and god bless.” Applejack sat in her office in the orchard at Horseshoe Bay, shaking her head as Twilight Sparkle’s peace announcement played over the radio. She never thought she’d see Equestria surrender a war in her life, but it had happened. The fox was too crafty, too sneaky, and had won. So now what would the dogs do?