• Published 18th Mar 2012
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I Blame You - Whitestrake



The product of my friend and I having a Skype call that went to the subject of 'What if...'

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You Know What, Fine

Scipia looked at her father's helmet with a slight apprehension. She had seen her dad wearing the armor, but never understood how he saw without holes for his eyes. However, this was the first time she was looking through the files saved onto what her dad called a hard drive, like a filing cabinet inside the mask. The display was holographic, and responded to disturbances in the light, almost like is was a living thing. The first thousand or so were labeled in a blocky, geometric script the young queen couldn't quite recognize, though the final thirty were perfectly legible.

The very first was recorded on the day of her birth, late in the afternoon. Scipia almost wanted to find out what her father thought of her on her first day on Equus, how her first impression was. She rapidly moved her hoof up, scrolling through the list on dates and names. The second file was from six years ago, and was labeled Might Have a Full-Blown Meatgrinder Soon. Scipia knew a meat grinder was used to process meat into a form that was easier to chew, but she'd never seen it used as one word.

Got a Letter Today was the next title, written the day before her dad left for Canterlot to fight in the war. He had left and returned home on the same day, a year later. Scipia had been two or three years old at the time, but one of her earliest memories was of writing a letter to her dad. Time prevented the two from being related, but the note mentioned must have been important if her father left the day after to fight. The quickly moved her hoof through the ghostly display twice, ordering the armor to open the indicated file. Scipia didn't really know what she was expecting.

Labyranthia and the Pridelands are teaming up, Draconia had an embargo with Equestria, and Zebrica's Borderlands have erupted into a near-genocide. Princess Celestia has some really nice timing for getting the band back together, doesn't she? Even as I write this, my thoughts are on my family, and the ponies I'll be looking out for, though I doubt there will be any distinction between the two once combat starts. Jay will be catching tomorrow's train; he's spending the day saying goodbye to Applejack and Candied Apple. I let Scipia and Chrysalis sleep in this morning, not like Chrissy needs the added stress. She already knows about this, picked up my letter before I got home.

Scipia will turn three next week, hope I'm back in time.

The young queen didn't quite know what to think. This entry was the first reference she had seen of her dad in Mercenary Mode, as her mother liked to call it. His words weren't eloquent, but still sincere, almost like honesty just radiated form the holographic display. There was poetic simplicity, the bluntness Scipia had heard Miss Cheerilee say she was glad hadn't rubbed off on the changeling. Knowing where the diary was leading to, but uncaring, the queen double-pushed the next entry.

Celestia is a moron sometimes. Yeah, her techies were able to reverse-engineer the assault weapons Jay and I brought with us, but without the advanced means of production, we are limited to a handful of incredibly obsolete firearms. Not flintlocks, thank the heavens, but muzzle-loaders. They'll put a lead shot downrange accurately up to one hundred yards, but they lack all but the most basic of iron sights. That's the good news, unfortunately.

The princess, in her infinite wisdom, is sending Jay, Prince Shining Armor, and myself to the possible front. We are to be pulled out at the first sign of violence. She hoping to use our presence as intimidation, drawing on stories of the Burned Man and Pyromaniac. Too bad Jay and I don't look a bit like we used to,not by a long shot. My buddy built a suit of metal, polished to a fine silver, and decked out with more painted flames than a trashy muscle car. I'm in the Deceiver's armor, so I should at least be a little scary, but not quite on the level of my ragged bandages.

EDIT 1845 LOCAL TIME - We've already loaded onto the train, but something doesn't sit too well with me. Shining Armor, the same guy who I'd trust with my life, told Cadence he'd be home in time for Hearth's Warming Eve. If I hadn't been sure we were riding to a slaughter, I am now. Thankfully, Cadenza pulled me aside and asked me to look after her hopeless husband while we are out of the country. I told her that I would, if she would pass along my wishes to Scipia for a happy birthday in the event I am unable to pull back. After all, she'll turn three the day after tomorrow.

Author's Note:

Take this however you will

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