//------------------------------//
// Phase V 
// Story: Earning Freedom 
// by Daxisle 
//------------------------------//





Phase V







Macintosh stared intently over at the Trotski Ponies who ate at the open kitchen area.

Since he's arrived three days ago, he'd been dropping subtle hints and cues as to his displeasure with the Trotski association within the Communists. Wedge was his main point of contact with the Red sect, continually holding conversations about the ultimate goal of the revolution, but quietly moving it more and more to the Trotski.

There were others who demanded his time, of course. The agents Luna called in constantly hassling him for orders. Mac told them to just continue one blending in, and wait for his word. The agents were growing impatient. Multiple assassination attempts on the pony's life had come and gone as he'd slept. Suspected Trotski in royal armor had been seen skulking around his tent, a few even trying to cut in through back. The lunar agents could only remain so vigilant to protect him.

The time had almost come, though. Macintosh was successful in turning many of the conversation in the encampment away from the revolution and more into the Trotski's ultimate goal. It wasn't hard, many of the collectivist ponies were already uneasy about the alliance and stroking the embers of mistrust and resentment took little more than a few words of effort. His agents fanning the embers farther by continuing the conversations after he was gone.

As his influence spread through the party, he could see altercations coming between the two sects. Instigated by the Reds, but retaliations began moving from simple words to pushing and shoving matches. There was almost a brawl between a rather large group of Trotski's and Communists this morning. One he'd ordered the Lunar agents to break up, after telling them to instigate it.

He felt no pity nor remorse for seeing either side bloody, now. These ponies were accomplices in murder, they followed leaders who were willing to kill in order to get their way. If these ponies wanted violence, let them have it upon themselves. He only wished he could turn the hostility upon the tribal rulers, but they were untouchable right now.

Small conflicts here and there were pushing his luck already, but having his ponies make an assault upon the leaders themselves would raise too many questions. No, no he'd need to wait... 

During his time, he'd been able to sneak away during day light and meet up with Rainbow Dash. Luna had appointed the mare as her delegate, since him being seen with any official agents of the crown was too risky. She confirmed that Sin's Cell was empty after the official announcement was made by Hurricane. Celestia was especially irritated by the guard's conspiracy, and began an internal investigation to find out what happened. Though, Macintosh knew what had happened.

Luna was beginning to grow impatient with his lack of results. She and her sister were under growing pressure from the nobles to rid the city of it's minor revolutionaries. 

Despite their heavy demands, Celestia stayed the course of non-intervention. Convinced that the best method of handling the protesters was to wait them out. The stress of the affair, mixed with the already growing tension of her questioned competence in leadership was beginning to weigh upon her. According to Rainbow, the solar princess was becoming more and more irritable. During a procession of grievance, she'd actually gotten so angry, she picked up seven noble unicorns in her magic and literally threw them out of her chamber.

That was the last thing Celestia needed, more bad publicity. Mac knew that the longer this went on, the worse the outcome would ultimately be.

Macintosh had wanted to stop this peacefully, he wanted everyone to go home back to their lives and family with no harm to life or limb, but between the sufferings of Celestia and Sin's passing, the stallion grew bitter and cold. It was a shame, some of these were good, honest ponies who were just of a different mind and ideology, like Wedge and Toiler. Most didn't honestly want violence, they just wanted to be able to live life, not slave away their earnings to ponies they didn't know or thought they had claim.

He hoped that they would flee and stay safe while the aggressive lot played their role.

Soon, very soon. Big Macintosh Apple would see his deceased friend have the justice he deserved.

"Comrade Macintosh." Wedge said from behind him. "A moment of your time, if you could."

The red pony sighed quietly, irritated that his thoughts were interrupted.

"I was thinking about what you were saying yesterday. About our numbers not being enough and that we should peitition for a small bit of land to form our own commune..."

One of the apple pony's many proposed alternative solutions. 

"I was thinking, wouldn't it still be under a capital class system? Would we not still be required to pay taxes and submit to the rule of the political class?"

That was true, despite the commune's ideals, they would still be on Equestrian territory. However, the alternative was a constant clash of wills between them and the crown. Mac had to word it just right to sound as if he was open to the idea of the commune while still supporting the revolution. It all came down to pragmatism and contingency, the current government, for all of their loss of support, was still viewed more favorably than communism would most likely ever be to the public. Even if the entire Imperial rulership stepped down tomorrow, there was absolutely zero possibility that the nation would abandon the empire and it's capitalist ways.

Mac reached out his hoof and placed it onto Wedge's shoulder. "Yes, you would. But Ah want ya to ask yerself this. If things didn't work out here, if the revolution fails here, did you want it all to be for nothing? Or do you wanna use the opportunity you have?"

Wedge tilted his head, genuinely confused as to what he was being asked.

Mac smiled and motioned to the now quiet group of protesters, eating their mid day lunches. "Ya've assembled a fine group of ponies. Communists who agree with your point of view of the world n' how things should work. Ovah two hundred ponies gathered here, togetha. Ponies willin' tah put in the work n' such to make such a commune work."

Wedge turned his blue eyes back to the group, nodding in a slowly forming conclusion. It would be a lot of work, but even if they did have to pay taxes and live in the commune under the political class, wasn't it better than dwelling within the capitalist system they had to now? Wouldn't it serve them better to take what they could get, rather than move to open violence and lose everything?

The white pony groaned and shook his head. "No, we have to win here. Failure isn't an option, Comrade." He turned his attention to the Trotski leaders tent. "I just wish I knew where Sickle was, he'd know what to do."

Sighing, Mac nodded in understanding. He'd spoken with Rainbow Dash about Sickle, trying to find out where the pony was, but according to her, the green pony had never been officially arrested. Luna had escorted her to the dungeons and there wasn't a single stallion who matched the green pony's description present.

What was even more concerning was that, despite their knowledge of it, the leaders had yet to release the news officially of Sickle's captivity. It didn't make any sense, the Trotki should be jumping for joy at the news. Yet another of their heros was arrested, surely that would fire up the crowd, right? Yet, they kept the news a secret.

Why?

'Keep focus, we can deal with that later.'

The voice was right. He needed to figure out how to keep the ponies of Canterlot safe, and that meant incentivizing the communists out.

Wedge may not be openly willing to take his suggestion yet, but Mac could see the growing sense of defeat in the unicorn's eyes. The flames of the protesters were slowly, but surely, dwindling. Soon enough, any violent conflict would be impossible from shear demoralization. Though, the apple pony did want to help them. He may not have liked their ideology on a personal level, but he did empathize with their plight. If they did leave and form their own commune, allowed to live as they pleased, it would be a win-win all around.

He saw Prince Platinum exit the organizers tent and bid Wedge farewell, saying he had some matters in town to attend. In truth, he just didn't want to deal with the angry prince, the pony had anger issues... Alot of anger issues.

As he walked through Canterlot, Macintosh could feel a tingle in the back of his neck. The familiar tingle of something not being right. He turned a corner and briefly glanced from where he'd come. Platinum was following him.

He continued walking, growing concerned over what the prince wanted. Part of him told Mac to turn around and confront the pony head on, another part told him to just keep walking and avoid any contact, hoping that the unicorn's following was just happenstance.  

Macintosh turned another corner, and another, and another. Yet still, Platinum was behind him, growling ever closer. It was clear he was, infact, being followed.

The apple pony weighed his options. A conflict could result in violence, Platinum had magic, Macintosh did not. That wouldn't end well for him, but if he engaged the pony in public, and remained non-violent, that would do serious damage to the Trotski image... but at what cost to his person?

He knew he could goad Platinum into violence just by saying the wrong things, but would the other ponies around help him? The local Canterlot ponies had no love for the invading collectivists, there was a high chance they'd turn a blind eye to him if he was attacked, maybe even killed. Hay, even the royal guards made no effort to stop the internal conflicts, why would now be any different?

That's when it dawned on the apple pony just how much danger he was in. Platinum wasn't the most reasonable of the organizers, nor the most intelligent. The only thing that kept the pony in check at all was Hurricane, and he didn't see her around. Nor did he see any of the lunar infiltrators, Mac was on his own.

This was not good, but then again, it did present an opportunity. Platinum was an irrational sort, Mac could use that to pick him off and imprison him. From the time he'd spent observing the ponies, Hurricane may have been the brains of the operation, but Platinum was the strong arm of the Trotski leadership, the enforcer. He'd witnessed multiple ponies come to the leaders and question if the protests were a good idea, and when Hurricane's emotional explanations failed, Platinum was more than happy to enforce complacency through intimidation. 

It was a very dangerous plan, but if executed correctly, Mac could use the Trotski ponies as well as the communists. Though, there were already two problems with this plan. Firstly, he'd need to find some guards and witnesses who'd be willing to stop the conflict and press charges against the unicorn, and second, he'd need to be away from his allies so that they wouldn't interfere.

The latter problem was an unknown, since he'd specifically ordered a couple of the ponies to watch him as insurance, but he didn't see them. But the abesence of evidence was not the evidence of absence. The former was even more risky, how would he knew which guards would be willing to help him or not?

'The castle! The guards at the gate! They know who you are, they'd be willing to help you, right?'

Even that was a shaky possibility. If they really thought he was a communist, they be just as disinclined to save him as much as any other protester. Not to mention that would take him right by the encampment, risking the communists themselves breaking up the conflict and losing the chance to imprison Platinum.

'Yea, but there's another aspect you seem to have forgotten.'

Oh?

'The fact he could kill you.'

In wide eyed realization, Mac found the assertion all to real. 

It was a hard situation, one he'd really wished he'd planned for, but the idea of taking out one of the Trotski leaders wasn't a consideration. Still though, this was a golden opportunity, even if it would require some careful movements on his part, the ultimate consequences would likely serve his benefit... if he survived.

Of course, there was always the option of going right back to the camp, into the safety of numbers. But when would he get another chance like this?

Macintosh turned another corner. Platinum was only a hundred feet behind him now.

Gritting his teeth the pony made way to the castle, trotting at a little faster pace. 









Spike sat in a seperate car from the others, a rather large back pack jam packed with crystel gems on the set beside him. He'd grown a little when presented with the gems, the Crystal ponies wanting to give him some consulation for his efforts but he wasn't that much bigger. What made him seperate himself was the desire to think with some peace and quiet.

Sombra was on boared with the girls, Shining and Cadance, still under lock, key and dragon scale. He hadn't said too much out of turn, if he did, it was usually a joke of some kind that was either too old to be funny or too obvious for anyone to catch. As serious and foreboding as the fell king was, he also had a dead panned sense of humor. According to him, all comedy was rooted in suffering of some kind, a notion none of the Twilight's friends cared for, but Spike himself was indifferent to.

But when he'd said something off cuff about a conversation involving stallions and poles, the drake had heard enough and found himself in the next car over.

He looked down at the back pack full of gems and took one out. It was a spectecular and shining emerald that glittered in the dimming afternoon sun. Delicious, scrumptious, and probably of just the right age, Spike wanted to bite it and savor the the delicious flavor the gem had to offer him.

He tossed it in the air a few times, eyed the stone for a second and placed it back in the bag.

He figured it would be good to have some kind of conditioning against his urges, to discipline his mind by sating his desire, yet keeping them in check until his rational mind told him he'd earned the snack.

And boy was the urge to eat a force to be reckoned with. It wasn't quite bad enough to call it painful, but it was kind of like an itch. An itch that desperately called out to be scratched and only intensified as time went on. Though, like all itches, if left unattended, it would eventually go away. Spike knew this and settled to endure the want until it finally subsided.

'Very good.'

Eh, it's not so bad.

'You're drooling.'

He wiped a claw over his mouth and blushed.

'It's difficult now, but there are benefits to patience and discipline. Look, you're baby belly is already going away again.'

Spike looked down at his stomach and poked it. Yep, it was starting to become less pronounced again. With another few things gained, he might get his broad chest and abs back again. The thought made him smile, but it also made him a little apprehensive. When he'd grown to his teen form before, it was done so slowly that he barely felt any different until it was pointed out to him how big he'd gotten. A few bits here, a few gems there, the gem carving set, his crossbow and cloak. Aside from minor bouts of want, the itch was barely ever present.

Now? He had to fight it constantly. He figured it was because he was in a more comfortable place now, rather than having the constant stress of looking out for food, water and safety like he was back when He, Sin and Macintosh were making their way up to Hooftrot. Spike didn't have anything to be greedy about in the wilderness but berries and a few quartz stones. Ponyville, on the other hand, was full of stuff to horde.

'Maybe a good survivalist journey is what you need, you know? Get the boys back together and head back out to Hooftrot again.'

That didn't seem likely, Sin and Macintosh had lives to attend to now, and so did Spike. Well, maybe, assuming the two still had a job after everything that happened. If not though, maybe the two of them could? They'd most likely lose the house, but it really wasn't that important in the grand scheme. Not like they'd be living there if they were walking ten plus miles a day due north.

The drake's thoughts were interrupted by the door to the car opening and chains rattling. He looked to find Sombra being lead into the cart by Shining Armor, both looking extremely annoyed.

"Sup?" 

"The white mare!" Sombra cried in regal offense. "She presents herself so refined, yet has no class when left in private!"

The drake's eyebrows shot up, quite a few things implications going through his mind. He waited for an elaboration, but Sombra just took his seat and remained silent.

"Rarity keeps asking him to teach her the spell that made the ponies of the empire crystaline." Shining explained, he rubbed the back of his neck. "She was... persistent."

Spike chuckled in relief, dismissing himself for the connection's his mind had made.

'You just learned what sex was, and that's where your mind went? Classy, dude, real classy.'

To be fair, Sombra could have worded it better.

"Think you can handle this priosoner? Cadance is exhausted and I'd like to be with her." Spike looked at the fell king then nodded. Now that he had the change, he wanted to ask Sombra a few things.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" The drake asked, once the white pony left.

The grey and black unicorn made a gesture.

"Why did you give up?" Sombra gave him a side long stare. "I mean, from the way Shining and them made it sound, you could have easily taken over the empire, so... why stop and just give up?"

"Was my explanation not satisfactory?" 

"I guess it's just a little confusing is all."

Sombra sighed and proceeded to ask where exactly the drake was having trouble understanding. The answer didn't seem to phase him too much though.

As the fell king explained before, his mind had been reclaimed from the demons of dark magic while he was trapped within the frozen glaciers of the north. With nothing to do but wait, he'd slowly reclaimed his soul from the entity and reflected on his life for all of the decisions he'd made.

"Yea, I get that, but then you were all evil and stuff again and then you stopped after that."

"Ah yes." Sombra said in realization. He turned and looked back into the train cart he'd just come from. "After my relapse back into the shadow, it was the determination your Captain displayed in protecting his the empire, his words reminded me of what I'd become and what I hated most."

"His words?"

Sombra nodded, his eyes clouding over while he relived a memory. "'You are not a king, you are a tyrant.' That is what mine mistress's sister declared during our battle." He paused, frowning for a moment and sighed. "Kings and noble ponies are revered and admired by their subjects. They inspire loyalty and love. Tyrants rule through fear and intimidation, I never wished to be feared or inspire terror in any, save the demons of Tartarus."

"So the demon is still there, inside of you?" Spike asked. Sombra nodded, even after a thousand years, he could not rid himself of whatever it was that drove him to madness. He could control it, but it would still be there, waiting for a chance to seize him at a moment of weakness. It was his hope that his former mistress might remedy him of his ailment. Despite his crimes, it was her fault after all.

Spike could sympathize with the prospect of losing control of one's own mind, but still remained skeptical.

"No offense, but... I just don't see you turning good all of a sudden."

"Paranoia, tis an admirable trait." Sombra chuckled. "Though, perhaps a more pragmatic reason will ease your apprehensions. Even supposing I did wish to retake my throne, both of the princesses would proceed to halt me once more. Would they not? The result would be another one thousand years in a glacier of ice, and I've suffered enough of that."

That... seemed like a much more plausible reason. The drake wasn't buying the whole 'bad guy turned good' thing, even if he could empathize with it. He was a dragon of reason and logic though, and Sombra having the incentive to not be an evil tyrant out of fear of banishment did set his mind at ease.

If only a little.

'So, after all you've done, you're worthy of trust, but he isn't?'

Ouch. Low blow. Not to mention that isn't he same thing. My dragon instincts took away all of my choices, his-

'His demons took his away. Not really all that different.'

... Okay, fine. But he knew he was losing control of his mind and didn't do anything about it.

'And you, fearing imprisonment, took to the diamond dogs gem stone stash for the sole purpose of becoming powerful enough to escape. Knowing damn well that you're own consciousness would be compromised, Did you not?'

Spike's hands balled into fists, he was not in appreciation for his inner voice's comparison of the two.

Yes, and I paid for it with my left eye!

'And he paid for his crimes with one thousand years in cold isolation!'

Spike didn't bother replying, no matter what the voice of reason said, he knew Sombra wasn't to be trusted. One thousand years of imprisonment didn't change Nightmare Moon and it didn't change Discord. If the punishment didn't work on those two, it didn't stand to reason to think it would change Sombra.








Heart pounding a mile a minute, Macintosh turned another corner. He could hear Platinum's hoofsteps behind him growing ever closer. He head was yelling, screaming at him to get to the castle. Prickles of ice in his withers promised pain beyond measure should he fail to get help in time.

He looked back, Platinum was almost upon him now, his eyes a hateful glare, confirming what his withers said. 

It was the first time in a long time Macintosh felt afraid, afraid that he might actually die. Shade was one thing, he knew that as crazy as the pegasus was, he wouldn't intentionally hurt him. Platinum was another matter, Mac could see the loathing, the desire to inflict pain and hurt in the unicorn's eyes.

That's when it happened, Mac felt a small tingle on his belly lift him up as he passed an alleyway before being tossed into it, slamming head first into a trashcan with a loud crash.

Pain permeated through the pony's skull, a faint trickle of warm blood flowed down the bridge of his snout. He pushed himself to his hooves and took a few steps only to slip on the trash can again and slam back onto the cobble stone ground.

Pain heightened his fear and the pony pushed himself up again. He needed to run, he needed to get away, he needed to get help. 

A force slammed into his side, sending the red pony flying again, deeper into the alleyway.

Mac cringed, trying to move his downside shoulder. It burned from the friction of the skid, taking most of his weight. He groaned, looking up and seeing Prince Platinum slowly skulking forward. "You've made a big bucking mistake. Comrade Macintosh."

The pony tried to stand again but buckled under the pain in his shoulder. He attempted to stand again, keeping his weight off his right side as much as he could, and back up, glaring at his assailant. Platinum smirked, his horn glowing and picking up the trashcan, looking over the thing in minor disgust. "Fitting, I do enjoy taking out the trash." He loosed the waste container with might. Mac tried to dodge, but his shoulder made him buckle again, taking the hit directly on his head instead of his chest.

"What? No words to say this time?" Platinum mocked, stepping forward again, using his magic to lift his foe. "Oh, that's right. Words don't work against magic, do they?"

He chuckled, bringing Macintosh to him and eyed the pony's bloodied face. "Oh, how I've been waiting for thi-"

CRASH!

In a mess of splinters and wood, the magical hold on the pony released and he fell to the ground in a heap. Wiping the blood from his eyes, the stallion looked in in confusion at the blurry picture before him. Something had hit platinum he could see dark wood and the familiar colors of assorted apples, but his mind was too banged up to make out the details.

"RUN!"

The stallion looked up to the roof of the alley, he couldn't make out the voice of his savior, but he knew that he needed to get away. 

Pushing himself to his hooves, Mac limped as quickly as he could. The fear of Platinum waking up and continuing his assault pushing him past his throbbing head and damaged form.

It took him some time, but he finally made it back to the camp. He needed to tell them what happened, Platinum's assault on his person was a huge mistake and would offer the final nail in the coffin of the Trotski/communist alliance.

Though, as he approached he saw the ponies in an extremely large circle, like the ones they had with general assembly meetings to discuss activities for the day and handling necessities. Tough, in the middle of the circle stood Hurricane, Cupid, Puddinghead and two other communists Macintosh knew were growing in influence.

They were quiet, not saying a word. Something in him told the stallion to keep away, but he'd finally gotten the evidence he needed to divide the two factions once and for all. He couldn't afford to pass it up now.

"What's goin' on?" He asked, moving between two of the ponies. The communists looked at him in surprise for a moment before scowling and turning away. Mac frowned and marched forward, approaching the organizers in the middle.

"Ah, the traitor returns!" Pudding head shouted, amused as always.

Traitor?

"TRAITOR!"

"CUR!" 

"LIAR!"

The circle began shouting, lobing insults of all types against him.

Hurricane marched forward to him before raising a hoof to silence the crowd. Once it quieted enough for her to talk, she smiled an insincere smile and asked, "oh dear, looks like Platinum went a little overboard. Speaking of which, where is he?"

He friendly tone shot anger through Mac's body. She knew, she knew, she'd sent the pony out to assassinate him... 

"Layin' crushed under a crate last Ah saw." He spat with venom.

Hurricane's smile dropped to a scowl. "You attacked Prince Platinum!?" She yelled, incurring gasps around the crowd.

'That bucking bitch!'

She gave him a quick, devilish smile. "First he aid's the crown in the imprisonment of a comrade, and now he assaults another?! It is as I've said!" She declared loudly, tinting her voice with a desperate plea. "Macintosh Apple is an agent of the government, intent on fostering division and mistrust between us!"

The stallion's jaw dropped.

"Do not try to deny it!" The tanned pegasus continued, pointing a hoof. "You were seen speaking with one Rainbow Dash, a known affiliate and lap dog of Princess Celestia by multiple communists and Trotski alike!"

"It's true! I saw them in the Thirsty Pony, chatting like old friends!" Cried a stallion from the crowd.

Another uproar of jeers and condemnations swept over the crowd and Macintosh felt himself grow heavy with fear and horror. That's what they'd kept Sickle's imprisonment a secret for... Bastards.

"Ah had nothin' ta do with Sickle, Ah've never even met the pony!" He argued.

Hurricane scoffed. "Convenient, isn't it? That he just so happens to disappear right before you get here. A pony who's influence and conviction gathered kindered spirits for a noble cause leaves just as another one arrives. One who is desperately trying to convince the brave communists that their struggle might be in vain." 

'Buck!!'

She was right, that did scream suspicious. He tried to argue his case and stick to that truth, but the crowd was already against him. The lunar agents remained tense and ready for action, but quiet. Things weren't looking good, if he didn't figure out a way to turn the tables here, he'd likely lose all credibility and influence, or worse...