Pony Fortress 2: A Worthy Cause

by The Usurper

Alicoronation Part II

It seemed too fantastical to be true. Twilight couldn't believe his story. She couldn't believe that he expected her to believe it.

But obviously he did. She could see it in the way he gazed at her, head tilted sincerely and eyes opened expectantly wide. It wasn't a look she expected to see on the eternally paranoid tactician's face.

"That's ridiculous," she said.

"Ah." Ician nodded. "But it's true."

"It's too ridiculous to be true."

He nodded again. "That's precisely why it has to be the truth. I could easily have come up with a more believable story."

"But then you wouldn't have been able to argue that it was believable by virtue of how unbelievable it was," she countered.

Ician stared. And then he laughed. It was coarse and grating, but it wasn't mocking or contemptuous or anything of the sort. It was genuinely excited. "See, Princess," he said, "this is why Celestia chose you as her successor."

"Wait, what?" Twilight asked, confused. "Why?"

"Because you're a quick study." He trotted to the edge of the carriage and looked out the window. "You'll have time to think it over later. We're almost there."

She joined him at the window. Beyond them, Midnight Castle sprawled out near-endlessly, a blue-black twisting labyrinth of metal and concrete. They were gradually approaching the immense walls, flashing with spotlights and lined with guard towers, and below them was a huge mass of moving soldiers. Both Imperial and Republic.

"See, down there?" Ician gestured down to the soldiers. "That's the Brigade of Dawn. And that one is the Brigade of Light. Those two clumps in dark armour are Dusk and Midnight Brigades."

Twilight squinted down into the shifting morass of pastel. Even her Sniper's vision wasn't good enough to make out the details from that far. "What are they doing?"

"Moving supplies, I think." Ician backed away from the window and found his way back to a chair. "It just means that Diana's negotiations have gone well."

Twilight watched as the conglomeration moved, stretching out from a blob into a more linear blob. Hundreds - maybe even thousands - of brown dots made their way from the head to the tail of the group, streaming supplies up to and through the gargantuan gates of the castle.

Clearly, those negotiations went very well.

"Want to take a guess as to whether these supplies were bought or stolen?" Ician asked.

"Uh..." Twilight furrowed her brows. "Bought? We couldn't possibly have stolen this much without recapturing Canterlot. And didn't you just say that we got these through Diana's negotiation?"

"Indeed." Ician touched his armoured hoof to his chin. "But this is too much to have been strictly voluntary. No doubt Queen Chrysalis must be incensed."

"So, what, she's going to attack us again?"

"Oh, most certainly. With her Supreme Commander back she has no need to delay." Ician soothingly stroked the back of his vulture, who was resting on the chair just next to his, and whispered a few words into her ear. She flapped her wings powerfully and swooped out the window, the tips of her feathers brushing against Twilight's face and blasting it with wind that the spell on her window had been keeping out of the carriage.

"Where is your vulture going?" Twilight asked.

"To gather intelligence," Ician replied. "We'll have the changelings' next target soon enough."

Twilight nodded. She hadn't the wherewithal to question Ician's stories anymore. If he said his vulture could gather intelligence, he was probably right.

"Brace for descent!" the carriage-pulling guard, Midnight Blossom, called. Twilight magically anchored her hooves to the floor of the carriage. Ician held on tightly to his chair. The entire vehicle suddenly tipped forward. Wind howled past the window it couldn't get into. And then, as suddenly as they had dropped, they levelled out again.

Twilight glanced out of the window. As far as she could see, the ocean of metropolitan darkness expanded outwards in every direction. The walls were distant now. In front of them, the only sky-scraping building loomed: the Midnight Spire.

"Coming in for a landing!" Midnight announced. The carriage swooped in towards a protrusion from the Spire, which soon swelled into a narrow landing platform as they approached. They circled the platform for a few moments, warning the milling figures below that they were about to land. Then Midnight brought them in for the landing proper, and with the shudder the carriage set down on the hard metal.

The door opened. Midnight lowered the boarding ramp and saluted smartly (and when she thought no one was looking, shot a dirty glare at Ician). Twilight exited the carriage with as much regality and poise as she could muster. It made her feel like a stuffy old minister in Celestia's court.

"Welcome, your highness." At the end of the ramp were a squadron of Lunar guards, fully armoured in the signature blues of the Republic army. Leading them was an earth pony with a modest brown coat, dressed in a simple but formal vest and sporting a pin of indeterminate status on his collar. "It is a pleasure to receive you."

"Yes, uh, likewise." Twilight decided she needed some lessons on royal protocol. She never imagined she'd need them.

Thank you, Chief Diplomat," Ician said. "Please escort the Princess to her quarters. Ensure her door is guarded at all times. I do not want any incidents."

"Of course." The earth pony nodded to his soldiers, who withdrew and marched towards the enormous double doors that opened up into the Spire. He gestured to Twilight, who assumed that that was her signal that she could move forward without the danger of being stabbed to death, and she followed him towards the doors. He fell into step beside her. Up close, she could see heavy eyebags under his eyes, and some rope marks on his hooves.

This pony mustn't have been having the happiest few days.

Her entire entourage stopped at the doors. With a heavy creak and a groan, the gigantic doors swung slowly open.

The endless hallways and countless doors beyond weren't blue or dark, as Twilight expected, but rather faintly shimmered a gentle, Celestial white. Paintings and portraits of Luna lined the constant corridor, and Lunar-themed tapestries were draped against the walls, but white dominated the heart of Midnight Spire. Twilight took a single step inside, and immediately she found her bare hoof buried in the soft caress of a pale magenta carpet. She remembered kindly eyes that colour, a long time ago.

"Why is this placed coloured like Princess Celestia?" Twilight thought aloud.

At once, as if something caught in his throat, the earth pony diplomat began to choke. Ician moved in and firmly slapped him on the back. The choking transitioned to disbelieving coughing, and after a quick recovery he looked at Twilight with frantic eyes. "Oh no, your highness, you misunderstand. The theme of the interior is moonlight white and midnight blues and purples. That was Princess Luna's personal instruction to the architects of the Spire, and that was how it was constructed."

"Oh." As Twilight looked around, though, taking in the vivid pastels of her mentor, she knew in her heart that Luna must have been thinking of something else when she commissioned the interior decoration.

She was led down the eternal hallway without another word. Unlike the twisting and splitting corridors of Canterlot Castle, this one followed almost a single path and was almost straight. To the untrained eye it may well have been. But Twilight noticed that it turned at a very slight angle, no doubt circling the perimeter of the Spire. Twilight began to estimate distances and calculate the approximate circumference, diameter, cross-sectional area, and volume of the structure. How much interior space did it have? How many floors, taking the height of this corridor as the average? How many weapons, troops, and defenses could it carry? How well protected was Midnight Castle, if Chrysalis ever struck here? Her respawn point wasn't here. She didn't have the benefit of a teleporter either. Without the mercenaries, how vulnerable would this city be?

"We're here." Ician's voice cut through Twilight's thoughts like a machete through boneless flesh. She snapped out of it, glanced around, and quickly took in her new surroundings. They were at another part of the almost homogeneous corridor, standing in front of a big set of doors.

"This is the highest level of diplomatic suite available, your highness," the earth pony said deferentially. "My greatest apologies that we were unable to requisition a chamber more suitable for your refined tastes, but-"

"I'll be fine," Twilight said, waving his concern away. He obviously had no idea what her 'refined tastes' were, or he'd probably have given her the outhouse. "What's the schedule for the rest of today?"

"Dinner with Princess Cadance will be at seven pm," Ician replied. "You have nothing scheduled till then."

"Thanks." She pushed the door open, hesitated, then added, "Also, no one disturb me, please."

"Yes, your highness," the guards responded in unison. Ician pointed at two of them and gestured to my door. They walked up to either side and waited there, stone-still, guarding the room like gargoyles.

"Uh, yeah. Good job. I'll... just be in here." Twilight trotted into the room. "See you all later."

She closed the door. Lighting her horn, she cast every protective cantrip she knew on the door, the walls, and any part of the room she was afraid might be compromised. She couldn't be too careful in the home of the still, official, enemy. She scanned the room for traps. None. She scanned it for bugs. None either. She scanned it for everything under the sun, but she didn't find anything. She decided to take that as a gesture of goodwill on Princess Cadance's behalf.

With that done, she turned her attention to the room itself. It was big, no doubt. A king-sized bed and a huge bathroom. She trotted over to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled out a complimentary pad of paper.

She began to calculate.

---

"Welcome back, commander," Chief Diplomat Mente murmured under his breath to Ician. "You are a welcome sight in these dire times."

"You flatter me." Ician motioned to the remainder of the guard, Midnight included, and they fell behind him and Mente in steady step towards the dinner hall. "Have you recovered from your own ordeal? I heard the changelings were not kind."

"At least I escaped alive," Mente said. He gazed down at the marks around his hooves. Nightmarish memories flashed through his mind, and he shuddered. "Though I would please ask you not to bring that up again."

"I understand. I'm very sorry." Ician bowed his head apologetically. "By the way, I heard that General Nightcall was looking for me."

"Ah, yes. He wanted the assistance of your expertise in understanding the changeling threat. Our scientists have been working on the few specimens we managed to acquire, but our progress is slow. I understand that you have some... experience with the creatures?" Mente tilted his head in the direction of Ician's chitin-armoured hoof.

"Quite. I'd be happy to share everything I know with the General." Ician stopped suddenly, prompting Mente to stop beside him. "This is where we part ways, I'm afraid, Chief Diplomat. I must debrief Princess Twilight's escort and prepare myself for tonight's dinner. If you'll excuse me?"

"Of course, commander." Mente bowed respectfully. As Ician headed off down a split corridor towards the centre of the Spire, he led the other lunar troops back to the barracks. All, naturally, except Midnight, who stormed down the corridor after Ician.

"Midnight," Ician greeted smoothly.

"Commander," Midnight ground out.

He sighed. "Look, Midnight, I'm sorry. But you must understand-"

"Understand what, commander?" she snapped. "That you betrayed the Republic?"

"I did not betray anyone," Ician countered. He opened his mouth in a snarl, but something flashed through his eyes and his expression softened. "Tell me, Midnight. What would have happened if the New Lunar Republic defeated the Empire?"

"Then everypony would be free, and there would be justice." Midnight said.

"Subjective." Ician shook his head. "Let's look at absolute numbers. Would there be more food?"

"Well, no, but-"

"More land?"

"Not exactly, but if you think-"

"More money?"

"What are you trying to say?" Midnight snapped.

"If you look at it from the perspective of the majority," Ician explained, "you'll realise that nothing changes one way or another, no matter who's in charge. Most of them don't even care. All the fighting the mercenaries have been perpetrating has caused so much destruction and death, and for what?"

"Justice!" Midnight shouted.

Ician tutted and shook his head again. "If they really cared, they could move to the Republic. There aren't any border controls. They might have to leave behind businesses or farms, but if it really, really mattered to them, they would still do it. They could start a new life here with hard work." He eyed Midnight gently. "Some ponies prefer a dictatorship, you know."

She fumed. "The Republic isn't-"

"I'm not saying the Republic is wrong," Ician added quickly. "I'm just saying that, in the bigger picture, right and wrong doesn't really matter unless the ponies think it does. Both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna only wanted what was right for their subjects. But look at what came from that?"

Midnight shut her mouth. She didn't know what to say anymore.

"I just hope," Ician muttered, "that Princess Cadance and Princess Twilight will do the responsible thing."

"... As opposed to the right thing?" Midnight quipped.

"I find that the two rarely coincide," he answered.

---

Total estimate (rounded to 3 significant figures):

Troop count: 48,800

Defensive emplacements equivalent: +17,900

- Wall contribution equivalent: +8,000

- Potential trap equivalent: +1,000

- Position equivalent: +1,000

Total defender advantage equivalent: +10,000
Effective strength: 65,700

Twilight bit her lip and telekinetically swept aside the monstrous mess of papers around her. By her estimates, Midnight Castle was strongly defended, but even the most generous estimate of the changeling forces overwhelmed whatever they could muster. It was only to be expected. The changelings were by all accounts an insectoid species, and their method of reproduction vastly outclassed mammalian methods, at least in sheer numbers. Even if their lifespans were typical of smaller insect species - something she doubted, given their size - they would still outnumber Midnight Castle two to one if they dispatched so much as a fraction of their army.

Over at the door, something chimed. She thought it was a doorbell at first, which she found rather odd, but she quickly realised that the culprit was a wall-mounted clock. Funny that she didn't notice it before. She must have been really absorbed in her calculations. And the time now was...

6.50pm

Oh, interesting design. The Republic seemed to favour digital clocks, as opposed to the analog preference of most Imperial government buildings. It was supposed to be easier to read, so she'd heard, but she was so used to analog that the digital presentation took her a little while to-

Wait a minute. When was dinner again?

It was at, uh, let's see...

Oh dear.

There was no time to waste. Twilight dashed into the bathroom and bathed herself quickly to completion. Her Sniper's vest was dirty and sweaty from wearing it the whole day. She threw it carelessly into the wardrobe and threw on something that looked vaguely like a good dress. There were a ton of perfume and makeup bottles on the dresser but she had no idea what to do with them. She didn't even recognise half the names on the bottles. Eventually she decided to just leave them alone and go. She probably didn't smell that bad.

Now: directions.

She burst out of the door and spun to face the two guards at either side. "Can any of you tell me where the dining hall is?" she asked breathlessly. Both of them pointed to the right. "Thanks," she added, and rushed off. They didn't indicate anything else, so she assumed it would be immediately obvious which door she was supposed to go to.

She found herself running for a full minute. Doors whizzed by, each as blank as the last, until she finally came across a gigantic set of double doors that dwarfed even those of her room. Above the doorframe, a sign marked in purple lettering Dining Hall glittered dimly.

Twilight swung the doors open with her telekinesis and charged in. "I'm here!" she exclaimed, puffing and wheezing. Being a Sniper did not give her many opportunities for running.

"Twilight!" At the other end of the round dining table, Princess Cadance gave her a warm smile. She wore nothing but her regalia and a little bib. Ician, dressed in his signature cloak, was seated midway between Cadance and what Twilight assumed was her own seat, embroidered with royal whites and oranges. His expression was solemn.

"Um, greetings, Princess Cadance." Twilight forced a smile. She was pretty sure there was some procedure to be followed.

Cadance laughed. "Oh, don't be like that. It's just the three of us tonight. We don't need to be formal."

"But... um..." So everypony wanted her to be a proper Princess, which meant being formal, and now Cadance wanted her to not be formal? "We're... monarchs, aren't we?" she protested lamely.

"Technically I'm not a monarch," Cadance said cheerfully. "And I haven't even been elected yet. I'm just the interim Head of State while the Republic sorts its internal affairs out."

"Indeed," said Ician. "Twilight, if you don't mind, could I trouble you to close the door?"

"Oh. Of course." Twilight powered up her magic and clicked the door shut.

"Good," Ician said. "Now soundproof the room."

"Uh... sure." She did as he asked.

"Are there any bugs?" Ician asked Cadance.

Her smile dropped into a serious frown. "Not that I know of."

"I'll check." Twilight scanned the room. She found a few bugs tucked away in remote corners of the hall. She crushed them all. "No more."

"Thank you." Ician nodded. "Now, nothing tonight leaves this room, understand?"

"Why?" Twilight asked. "What's going on?"

"For the first time since the civil war began, the Empire and the Republic are going to be working together." Ician looked between the two of them. "We can't risk negative press releases, or spying, or... anything. The potential of any kind of public upset to ruin this partnership is immense."

"This isn't just any ordinary dinner, Twilight," Cadance explained. "We're going to be discussing the future of our nations."

"The future of..." Twilight paled. "Ician, I wasn't ready for this!"

"We aren't engaging in any heavy plans for reunification yet," Ician assured her. "This is purely about the war effort."

"Yes," said Cadance. "And whether or not we're going to unite our armies."

"I hate to spoil the outcome for you," Ician added, "but it has to be yes, or we're all doomed."

"I didn't know this was even a question." Twilight sat down on her spot at the table. "No two ways about it. We're not fighting each other until we beat the changelings." She hesitated, then continued, "If we can beat them at all."

"We can," Ician asserted. "Now, first things first. Changelings feed on love. Twilight, this will be difficult for you to do, but I need you to order mass evacuations from Imperial cities so we can concentrate our forces on defending Lunar territory. Changelings haven't yet breached the defenses of the Republic, and if we force them to attack the strong defenses we have here and along the border for food they'll suffer massive casualties while leaving most of our own forces intact."

"Give up all those cities, just like that?" Twilight asked.

"We can take them back when we defeat them," he replied. "There isn't anything useful for changelings in those cities anyway. We'll take whatever supplies we can with us and burn the rest."

"Yes, but-"

"Your highnesses!" A lunar guard - Midnight, Twilight quickly noticed - burst in through the door. "It's an emergency!"

Cadance stood up at once. "What's going on!"

"It's the changelings!" Midnight gasped. "We're under attack!"

Twilight scrambled to her hooves and galloped to the nearest window. At the very edge of her vision, looming over the city walls, was a cloud of chitinous black so massive that it blotted out the fading sun.

And her mercenaries were not here.

Comments

[The Usurper]

Here it is! The next chapter. They're shorter than before but they seem to be a little faster too. I'll settle for that.

[Crimson Dawn]

I will take it.

[Amusementist]

Where are the tanks and Giants?

[mr_shimmer]

What, noo! The fic I've been binge reading has run out....
And there is so few good crossovers of this particular match up.
Ow well, all that remains is to follow it, and find another fic...
I hope this updates frequently.

[Nightmare_Me]

MORE? PLEASE?