Nearing the Edge

by Eagle

The Owl and The Nightingale

May 18th, 2006
1234 Hours
Canterlot, Equestria

The mood around Canterlot was noticeably somber, even on a sunny and clear day like this. Much of the remaining citizenry were forced to live under the new restrictions pressed into them by the Shadow occupation forces. Being the capitol, it was far from the mere rear-echelon police units but multiple ones of greater variety. Canterlot quickly became the nerve center for the Shadow military in their drive to take over the other half of the country.

At the same time, this was the first breath of relative peace the city had since the war began, albeit a bitter peace. The damage done to it between the multiple air raids and the battle finally began to be repaired very slowly. A countless number of flags of the Shadow Empire were strung up around the city, and fluttered in the wind, with the largest being at the castle on the mountainside, far away but still clearly visible.

A single human stood in the sun of midday, studying the flag from where he was on a street of the more modern, urbanized New Town. He looked to the side and saw another small flag resting on the corner of a building. They were everywhere, and under their watch and shade a clear feeling of control and oppression was signaled. The city was a pitiful sight.

He was a member of the Air Force of China, the ‘People’s Liberation Army Air Force’; too much of a mouthful to say each time, he always thought. A collection of flamboyant, but empty and meaningless words. That was what he thought, anyways, but for the rest of the organization it did not matter what he thought. They did not want it to matter. Air Force Senior Colonel Dai Jun, fighter pilot, that was the better title, his title.

Jun had been a pilot for some years now, suppressing and hiding whatever unacceptable thoughts the service might find, until they could not afford to kick him out. Punishment and counseling then came, but nothing serious, for in his work he had climbed to be one of the better fighter pilots in the nation, through his own drive of skill rather than any military thought or tactical doctrine. Jun liked to think himself the best pilot in China, but he repressed that when it came about; wise men know overconfidence can spill into arrogance, and then death, and Jun tried to be a wise man.

The ‘Owl’, that was the name he had received for many a reason, the above being one of them. With war approaching, China could not afford to lose any of their skilled pilots. Being the best, and with the party’s love for optics, he was used as a propaganda piece, though only in visual and the approved stories. It was awkward, the Communist Party, never allowing dissent, leaving such a free, vocal critic of it to fly for the armed forces, and then use him for propaganda. Yet in the end, the party had turned this critic into a face of Chinese skill for them to use. Jun, the Owl, hated it, despised it, but now could only try and go on with his own path and studies in life; nothing could be done to change his country now.

He pondered this history, as he had done so many times before, as he walked down one of the streets of the city’s urban, business downtown area. He came across a tall building scarred and burned slightly from the battle, the broken skeleton of a restaurant on the ground level. It was clear on the outside what it was, but it was hollow, the inside blown and tossed like a tornado had kicked through, the effects of a point-blank tank round put into the business. Out in front of the store, sitting at one of the few metal tables left, was a pony he had been asked to meet.

“Ah, good morning! Are you Colonel Jun?”

“Yes, I am, and you are eh.. you are the one who asked for a meeting with me?”

“Yes that’s me. Just call me Nightingale, please,” the mare said, letting the Chinese pilot take the seat across from her. “I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can offer to eat or drink. As you can see the restaurant here was destroyed in the fighting.”

“Thank you, I had no hunger for anything. Now, what was it you wanted to speak about?”

“It has to do with one of your sorties, one of the battles you recently took part in,” Nightingale replied. “I heard during your attempt to stop the enemy from escaping Brumbay, you had an encounter with an unusual fighter squadron. Is that right?”

“Yes, they all seemed to be exceptionally skilled. Our radio interception and intelligence gathering after the battle say that they were the first-”

“I know who they are,” she interrupted. “United States Air Force, First Tactical Fighter Squadron. Is that it? They use the name ‘Eagles’ after their planes, even more so from the symbolic bird of their nation. Is that accurate Senior Colonel Jun? Were they the ones who defeated you?”

Jun was quiet for a moment; though he held no resentment against the enemy pilot he disliked admitting he had been thwarted, especially in the blunt way Nightingale put it.

“How do you know of them? I’ve heard various things since-”

“We’ve been fighting them for a very long time. Did you know they were the first American unit to land in Equestria? They voluntarily joined them in a way to fight us.”

“Yes I remember the stories that were coming out in the news.”

“Their squadron commander was once forced to bail out over Equestria and was captured by the ponies. Brought to their Academy. There must have been some agreement reached because the rest of the squadron soon joined him there. We sent a large formation of bombers and pegasi, not knowing the rest of the squadron had arrived. The hope was to bombard the base and capture him. Or his body. It was a risky operation on its own but once the entire squadron of jet fighters intercepted… almost the entire formation was destroyed.”

“Yes, I remember hearing about this. This was 2005. Not very long ago, but it seems like it.”

“A lot happened after that. This was the time before the United States and Equestria formed an official alliance. As such the squadron became ‘volunteers’ and in turn became part of the Equestrian Air Force as well. This development seriously disrupted our plans.

“We attempted to set a trap for them, and succeeded in shooting down some of their aircraft. But they started to fight back. There were two separate engagements with Griffon and Changeling aircraft. Both times the Americans tried to intercept our ally’s spy planes. They were unsuccessful in this but they did engage and destroy the fighter escorts following them. After this, probably because of this, the United States signed its alliance with Equestria. They began sending combat units and training and arming the Equestrians. Our entire strategy for winning the war had to be cut and reworked around a faulty contingency.”

Jun relaxed back into his chair as Nightingale recounted the history of the squadron. It was incredible to hear, putting so much into perspective. He began to mentally plug this new information into his own theories, adding it to his thoughts on the team and it’s commander. It only added more to his curiosity though, only bringing up more questions.

“That is impressive, seeing that one unit can have such an impact on the planet,” he commented through his less-than-perfect English.

“They’re certainly not the only enemy units that caused us problems, far, far from it. But that squadron has been a unique pain for myself in particular. Much less the Shadow’s failures.”

“You are not one of the Shadow horses correct? You look different from them.”

“No, me and my squadron are Night Ponies. We belong to a different group, look to a different leader. I only receive some orders from Sombra as part of their military.”

“Acting independently from the king of the Shadow Empire, while being part of his military? Only because you are not like them? It seems like a difficult relationship to understand.”

“Oh, if only you knew how much Sombra owes me.”

“And you said your plans, are your plans different from the Shadow’s?”

“My plans are my own, but they do rely on victory from this war effort, seizing Equestria as our home and putting a rightful ruler in place,” she explained vaguely before changing the topic. “Did you know that American squadron made a lot of friends with the Equestrians? Their leader in particular has a close friendship with a pegasus in the Equestrian Air Force. One that has influenced both of them significantly.”

“Why do you tell me all of this?”

“Because I have not fought their leader yet. Outside of a single ambush, my own squadron has had no contact with them. But you have. I brought you here because I want to know what you experienced in your fight.”

The Chinese pilot relaxed into his seat a bit, taking his time before answering her.

“What happened? It was not much, not long, a single encounter, but it was... fascinating… curious.”

“Can you be more detailed about the actions rather than vague feelings?” Nightingale asked with a hint of annoyance.

“The mission we had was sudden. The Griffons were having trouble stopping an American evacuation, so we were sent to help, though we only arrived at the end of the action. I was able to ambush one enemy fighter, a straggler, and shot him down before being engaged by the escort. From everything I saw it was indeed the Eagle squadron you speak about.”

“How many of their aircraft engaged you, specifically?”

“Myself? Only one. The other-”

“One? Just one?” Nightingale repeated incredulously.

“There were several fighters of the squadron, but they all engaged my companion’s squadron. The Dragon squadron, which itself had multiple members. All except their leader. The rest of my squadron was not with me. I was alone, and he was alone,” Jun recalled.

“So the fight was between the two of you. But neither of you were shot down.”

“We moved around each-other, trying to gain an advantage for a while. After spending some time fighting him I found something. He had no missiles. He was mostly unarmed, but he was still fighting me as if he did have them.”

“Unarmed!? He couldn’t fight back?”

“Yes, but he did. He distracted me, bought time for the other aircraft to escape, covering them.”

“He was unarmed. And yet you couldn’t shoot him down,” Nightingale surmised, her view of the Chinese pilot’s abilities noticeably waning.

“He was able to evade the few attacks I was able to make. He was straining at times. But the arrival of additional American fighters forced us to end the battle.”

Her opinion of the American pilot’s skill changed only slightly. Instead, she seemed rather disappointed in the vaunted Owl and his inability to defeat such a declawed opponent. From everything she had seen so far, and despite what had been accomplished, it seemed that the Chinese, especially the PLA, revered and paraded themselves far more than what they were actually capable of. It was clear she needed something else to defeat this squadron, more so than relying on luck or her new overblown human allies; it would require planning and some trickery, and failing that a direct intervention by the Shadowbolts themselves.

“If what you are telling is true then it seems like Dash had a greater effect on him than I realized.”

“What?”

“Rainbow Dash is the pegasus that I told you about, the one that befriended their leader. All of the squadron befriended the Equestrians of the local area. It’s not surprising, considering the Equestrian’s broken ideology about companionship. It’s had an interesting impact on both groups. Actually, my squadron fought with Dash’s and the Wonderbolts not long ago.”

“Really? What was it like?”

“Not as difficult as I thought it would be. We shot down a couple aircraft. No losses in my team of course. We've never had any, never will. But they broke and ran. It wasn’t easy but pitiful all the same, since they are supposed to be the best Equestria has. Their grand ideology leaves them far too weak and confused in a world that has no need for it.”

“Ideology? You think that affects how well they fight?”

“Yes, of course! I’m sure of it. I would know,” Nightingale spat defensively.

“Could you explain this ideology to me?”

“I don’t think I should. I’ve tried to explain it to some of your comrade countrymen before. They never really grasp it, just creating some false equivalency to ‘imperialist America’, but it has nothing to do with that. They are very dull and dim.”

“As I have said, I am quite different from the rest of the Chinese military. I was not born on the mainland. When I was younger I had a fascination with the cultural history of my country, but much of it was destroyed in the Cultural Revolution,” Jun explained, knowing full well talking about such matters could lead to trouble with the party. “The lack of any history or subject left a hole. It is hard to explain. I tried to find something similar to study, or something connected. For some reason I chose flying, I do not remember how I found it, but my fascination changed to looking at the human condition, through flying and war. And combining it in some ways. It is very strange. I can not explain it well”

Nightingale was more focused on her own thoughts, not caring to hear of the Chinese pilot’s story. She leaned forward on the table as he spoke, resting her legs on it, feeling the metal warmed under the sunlight. Once he finished, she sat up again, wanting to continue her own explanation in the hopes a human would finally understand.

“Well don’t worry about it, just know that their ideology is a failed one that they cling to, one that stops them from performing well in the actions of this world, like war. It’s a hypocritical lie that will lead to their destruction.”

“You sound very invested against it. Did you have some personal fallout with the Equestrians?”

“I keep the specific details to myself and my own circle of family, but I was Equestrian once I believed in it. Until I found that the ideal of being friends with everypony, using that power to overcome any obstacle, it did leave out some. There still had to be some villains, somepony that was the obstacle, of course."

Jun listened closely, much closer than she had listened to him; it seemed that despite the claim of keeping this to her personal circle she was eager to share it, perhaps wanting another unique person to agree with her.

"Of course I didn’t realize this for a time. But I was not a friend to them, I was ostracized, and rather than try to become friends with me I was mocked- for... at any rate, one day I ran to the woods. And there, Nightmare Moon took me as a friend, a servant, but a friend, when nopony else would. Equestrians try to be friends with most, but not all, and those few they did not befriend came to us. The Mare in the Moon took us in, herself driven out by her sister, and the lot of us were friends, family when no others would be.”

“Hmm… and these followers, these are the Night Ponies? Different from the Shadows as you told me?”

“Yes, we are Sombra’s allies, but not his.”

“And your family, that is your squadron you told me of?”

“Yes.”

“You are very different from what I first thought of you,” Jun admitted. "But it is difficult to trust you with this. I have spent my life being lied to by people I was told to trust. You could just be lying to me too."

“I think I was more wrong about you, you seem to be as arrogant and stubborn as the rest of your countrymen,” Nightingale retorted.

“I doubt this, I try to explore the ways people think.”

“All you do is confuse yourself thinking that much. If you had spent less effort on thinking and more on action you could have killed that American pilot.”

“You sound the same as a friend of mine, another pilot. He was with me when-”

“You should listen to him then, maybe he can bring some success instead of thinking and failing.”

“I have my reasons to ignore him,” the Owl shot back in frustration. “You do not know what our situation is like.”

“Oh so now you’re telling me I don’t know what your situation is like? But you can speak freely on my own without knowing what happened?” she scowled, electing to break off the conversation there. “Ah, hypocrites, you’re no different; I already know who I can trust. I think I got what little I could from this meeting, so I’ll end it here.”

Nightingale got up from her seat and flared her wings, the natural feathers flowing in the wind as she readied herself to fly off.

“I think I’ve gotten what little information I can get from you and your encounter,” she spoke down to the Owl as she floated up and hovered over him. “I will contact you if I need anything else. Go and take some time to enjoy Canterlot, Senior Colonel. From what I’ve heard, even in it’s damaged and occupied state, it’s still much more beautiful than the cities from your country.”

---

Following the fall of Canterlot, Cole found himself to be in a strange, painful position. Helping the aircraft escape from Brumbay had tightened the camaraderie of the squadron, but Cole leaving on his own just after this to race to take part in the Battle for Canterlot had left them shaken, as it was a sudden decision and he only told a few that he was going. They were not angry, not upset in any major way, but most agreed that he should not have done this; at the very least he should not have gone alone, even if the squadron was exhausted. They were now wanting to stick closer together, not stick their necks out that far for the Equestrians.

For Cole himself it was another peg of pressure to add on. The burning anger from the dogfight had already soured by the time he returned to base. Now the multiple worries concocted in a mix of frustration and worry over the course of the war.

Still, the men continued going about as usual. The retreat to such a far-off base had given a brief bit of downtime to recuperate. The men made the most of it, as Cole saw when he passed the Bravo and Charlie Flight leads reengaged in their card rivalry.

“Lieutenant Maurice, Sylvester,” Cole greeted. “How much cash are you waging now?”

“Not just cash, we thought of something a lot more fun to bet on,” Cowboy smirked. “Kills, we got enough now to bet one or two.”

“Really?

“Yeah really! Makes the card games more exciting. Hell you can make money back, there’s tons of it, it ain’t that important. But a kill to your name? That’s something real special.”

“Oh yeah? And just how much is a kill worth? What price do you put on something that important?”

“Well, we said fifty bucks,” Cowboy quipped. “Honestly Sir we usually just buy ‘em back from each other when it’s over.”

“Not a lot of either changes hands at the end of the day,” Keno admitted. “Hey, are you feeling alright Captain?”

“I’ll manage,” the Captain responded, quickly avoiding the question.

“Okay, well did you want to talk to us about anything?”

“No, no, nah. Nothing. Just on my way to talk to someone else anyways, so that’s covered. Thank you though.”

“Well… alright Sir. You take care.”

Cole left them to continue their game, wandering off to meet Lieutenant Walker in seclusion. He had tried to keep up the act, marching about with the proverbial mask to hide his worries, so that the team would not worry about him, but he needed to talk to someone all the same when things got bad. The USAF Chaplain had helped, but his own Executive Officer knew him a bit better. Ever the honorary ‘brother’, Walker was the one best suited to discuss concerning issues, and as such he was one of the men who could tell full well something was wrong and would blatantly bring it up.

“You want anything to drink?” Runner asked, standing from a table in the unoccupied lounge. “Water, tea, anything like that?”

“Yeah water’s fine, thanks.”

“They actually got a good selection of food and drinks here. Not like Brumbay,” the XO remarked, filling a styrofoam cup. “Perks of being inland, farther behind the lines. Deeper inside civilization.”

He handed the water off, and Cole thanked him, not making eye contact with his friend.

“So what’s on your mind?”

“All the shit that’s been happening, building up I guess. Any anger I had over the situation I burned up in that last dogfight. Now I’m just burnt out. Kind of down. Feels like it’s just complaining now though, and a squadron doesn’t need a captain that does nothing but bitch. Better to keep my trap shut.”

“I know what you mean. War’s not going too well huh?”

“No, it’s not. As much effort as we’ve put into it it’s not enough, everything else is just collapsing. I don’t even know what we can do anymore,” Cole rambled on, staring into his water. “And you know it’s cause of the fucking brass to, whatever generals are in charge of the ground forces. They still haven’t let the marines or the British off the leash to help at the front! Still! After the whole fucking line collapsed!”

“I don’t get it either, though the ground’s not our forte. Maybe they have something planned. Keeping it really secret.”

“I don’t know what they could be planning but they need to move quickly. Everything’s falling apart,” the Captain went on, now directly looking at his friend. “Way I see it, everyone’s got bug out fever.”

“What’s that?”

“Everyone’s freaking out over the front’s collapse and is running East. Regardless of if there’s enemies actually in the area, regardless of orders. Especially the Equestrians. Christ and after all we did too, most of them still won’t fight.”

“Some of them are trying though. I’m sure Dash is.”

Cole was quiet for a few seconds, his eyes shifting between Runner and the still water. That hurt a little, almost like an unintended cheap shot at his views, but Runner was right. After taking it in he felt better; it was no cheap shot, it was something to be hopeful about. He knew she had not given up, he just knew.

“Yeah she’s definitely still fighting. I’m sure of it. She’s not the kind to give up on something important like this.”

“She wouldn’t give up on her friends either, I’m sure,” Runner explained. "Yeah they’re not very good at the war business. But from what we’ve heard, the friends we’ve made, they’re still trying. So don’t give up okay?”

“Was never planning on giving up the fight Runner, you know that.”

“But don’t give up on them, that’s what I mean. I know a lot of guys in the military are getting to that, but we got to stick together. I know you won’t give up on her, or the other friends of theirs we met. They won’t quit on us. It’s all about that, you understand? We can’t lose that, that means you can’t lose that.”

“Yeah I wasn’t planning on abandoning them either. Really hitting that home huh?”

“What I mean… like I said, a lot of others want to give up on the ponies. But a lot of people know about you, even if they don’t look up to you. You’ve got the oldest friendship between a man and an Equestrian in history you know?”

“Well I’m not-”

“You two are real friends. You’ve done good for each-other, you won’t give up on each other. You and Dash, this squadron and all the friends we made back in Ponyville. That’s the proof, that’s the big shining light showing everyone else we can do this together. Equestrians keep talking about friendship and all they do is worry if it fits in this world. We’re the proof of that man, and you and Dash are the brightest tip of that light leading the way. John, you understand what I’m saying? Captain?”

Cole did understand, at least he thought he did. Walker had explained it all in a somewhat cluttered way, but it was not something he himself had not done and was not used to. The explanation had put things in greater perspective for Cole. He had always worried about the war, worried about many things, but he had not seen how what he did, and the friendships he had made, fit into that. Every little bit helped, but he had not realized how something as small as his friendship with Rainbow could grow into something that had an effect as far-reaching as this. Not to mention the rapport the squadron had made with the various Equestrians in it’s time since they had been here.

“Yes, I understand. Honestly, I do,” the Captain answered truthfully, looking to the eyes of his comrade with a slight smile.

“Good, I’m glad I can help.”

“Thank you man. You ready to head out? We need to- oh damn we forgot about our water. Didn’t even touch it.”

“Ah that’s no big deal.”

“Yeah but for some reason I don’t want to waste it.”

“Well… alright,” Runner agreed, grabbing his cup.

“Toast?”

“Sure, what to?”

“Friends, I guess. We were just talking about how great they are.”

“Sounds as good as anything else,” the XO agreed, raising the cup. “To our friends.”

“To friends,” Cole met his raise, bringing it back down and drinking all the water in one quick downing. “Let’s get back to it!”

Author's Note:

Sorry I'm not updating the story as much. I wish I was. The year has been pretty crazy and life's gotten busier; granted I know I say that all the time but now it's much more than it's been before. Wanted to write out this little backstory chapter and barely had time for that. Still, I'm happy I could give everyone something. More is on the way, I promise. Thanks to everyone who bothered to read this, and take care.

Comments

[Time Reaper]

This was another good read.

[Earthpatriot117]

Great chapter dude! Looking forward to more.

[29000 Kevin]

I have a long road ahead of me to catch up on this story.

At this point I've read up to 30-40k until 2017, I'll be leaving this on the backburner until I'll eventually gather the willpower and time to read this old Monster of a story.

Oh my avatar spoils who side I'm routing for, no matter how outdated my memory is of said side.

[Eagle]

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Thanks

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Yeah, at least there's plenty of time to do it.