Millennia: Eye of the Storm

by Thunderblast

35. Recalled

The night before was a long night. Fun, warm, and particularly relaxing, albeit long and a bit exhausting. After the movie had ended, Ray and I took a stroll around Canterlot and showed him a few of the sights, and relished each others' company. Admittedly, some of the spots selected off the top of my head might have been better during the daylight hours, though I don't think he minded much, as long as he had the opportunity to tick places of interest in the capital off his bucket list.

It wasn't until at least midnight when we headed back. In fact, the day had been so tiring that the poor thing couldn't rally the strength to make it to his hotel all the way in West Canterlot, near the skyport. Of course, I could have carried him there myself more than likely, but it was Ray's idea to stay the night at my place. It was closer, after all, and the sooner he reaches a spot to lay down, the better.

Acknowledging his trust was earned exceeding that threshold of crashing at another pony's apartment came off as reassuring, and I only hesitated to make sure he was okay with sharing a bed. If anything, that seemed like what he was planning from when he first suggested it. I didn't want him to be uncomfortable in the slightest, nor did he seem to be as he passed out the moment his form struck recently-washed sheets.

As I lay there for the first few minutes, listening to the gentle snores of a pegasus in slumber, a persistent reverie clashed with the conscience of my mind, wanting to take him in my arms and hold him like he does me, or has. Simultaneously, I knew better than to barge his personal space, especially while fast asleep. Physical contact as such for comfort is permissible for a couple, therefore Ray's side of the bed belonged solely to him. But that's where question fails to waver.

I'd made it somewhat clear that all of this was still happening a bit fast for my liking. It was in partial concurrence to that where he presented his notion that I am nowhere near, in this context, mature enough to know that for a certainty, which would only imply that Ray has potentially experienced more in the past relationship-wise, or he had made it a sub-hobby of his to understand the concept of romance. He's older by three years roughly, so the prior would make more sense.

It hurt, far more than I am willing to disclose. The feelings were there, the ones I believed I had for Rose Shine at one point. I think Ray understood that much, even with how poorly I have vocally interpreted. He seemed like no matter how I phrase, no matter what words I use, he develops a comprehension every time. Some instances I find him finishing my sentences for me, or saying what I want to say before I can speak or when I think it is the wrong thing to say. But the one thing I've yet to let him understand is my own insecurity.

Of course, his story that he is a traveling pony working at radio stations across the country is more believable than my upstairs neighbor, who once insisted on her unemployment and, come to find out, was and still is a sort of guinea pig for an intelligence agency whose identity is far above my pay grade. Hell, her name could be a cover too as far as I know.

I genuinely did not believe Ray could be the same, if not similar. The odds of that were far too slim. That said, it couldn't rule out the possibility of deceit sooner or later. It could also just be my guard refusing to let itself down long enough for him to work his way into my life if that is what his intentions are. I mean, that is what I want, and clearly the feelings are mutual to some extent. He knows well by now what it is I do for a living and that we cannot see each other all the time, though, unless that were to change. Such would be me moving closer to base, and him landing that dream job of talk show co-host in Manehattan later this year, assuming all of those little quakes don't scare everypony off and thwart his chances.

But after last night, it is safe to surmise he too acknowledges my silent cries for help. He may never have known me prior to the assault on Manehattan, though I can see he realizes my state of distress and that I was, in fact, somepony else before all of that, before I donned my uniform for the first time, even before I signed those papers in Ponyville. So he also says he knew a former grunt who lost a limb, and that is likely where his understanding originates.

It bothered me for too long. Now I see why they tell ponies to worry about the present, not the future. The problem is, that's precisely what I fail to do anymore. I can't help but worry about the future. Since the Eclipse was attacked, Manehattan soon after, then the shit on the Alder, and now the almost-war with Ajerstan and possibly its bordering allies, I felt as if there was no true future in store for me. No bright future. Nothing but dark, cold, and loneliness. I have my friends, yet that void even they cannot fill.

Ray, on the other hoof... he has that potential, and that is what terrifies me most. Not with him as the primary cause, but purely due to my own anxious tendencies, and it leaves me with the lingering fear that it will be for that reason why he abandons me in the future.

Time had passed so quickly that, although I do know for a fact that I did manage to doze off just a little bit, I felt like I had been laying there all night, over-calculating and worrying. One moment, it was the dead of night. The next, sunlight was filling the room through the window. My gaze fixed upon the spackled ceiling, eyes itching with weariness and mildly bloodshot. I don't know what all I expected, this was a normal night's rest in my case.

My head fell to the side, focus setting on the gold pegasus at my side. Ray slept flat on his stomach, hooves tucked beneath a pillow with his chin on top. His chest rose and sunk gently between quelled snores, an overall sight for my sore eyes. Setting all thoughts aside, I centered on him alone, letting my lips curl into a little, tired smile.

The peace, however, was short-lived. Opposite of me, on my nightstand, a familiar buzzing swiveled my ear. I jolted a little, jumpy from lack of sleep, turning over and pulling my phone up. The screen was lit up with a message from a number I did not recognize, although its area code originated from Manehattan.

"You up corporal?" it read.

I paused for a moment to contemplate who it could have been. Evidently they did not have the wrong number, and I could assume it to be somepony from base.

"I am now. Who is this?" I replied.

It only took a few moments for the number to type back, responding shortly after with, "Hardstaff. Do you have a TV?"

That would explain him referring to me as 'corporal', and I could assume now that it was Nightpath who gave him my number unsolicited for this instance. "Yeah. Why?"

"Turn it on. Now."

"What is it?" groaned a sleepy pegasus at my side, his eyes covered by a hoof against the dawn sunshine that even my curtains were powerless to fend off.

I sat up rather quickly, in turn momentarily dizzying myself. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Ray turned over and sat upright, fluttering his eyes open sleepily. "No, wait, what's going on?" he asked, maintaining a low volume and gently rubbing his left eye.

I found myself in the living room before he had time to finish his question, scrambling for the television remote. Once on, I switched quickly through some of the local channels until tuning to ENN, which was in the midst of a breaking news broadcast. It had been beyond my acknowledgement when Ray sleepily sauntered from the bedroom and plopped himself down on the couch beside me as I focused solely on the television screen. On it, the camera panned in on a stallion in a black and white suit and tie with his hooves politely together on a glass-topped anchor desk.

"It has been announced that, in three days, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, as well as Princesses Twilight Sparkle of Ponyville, and Princess Cadence of the Crystal Empire along with Prince Shining Armor, and many generals of the Equestrian Armed Forces are due to venture east to Manehattan for a summit meeting with top diplomats of Ajerstan, a nation on ice cold terms presently with Equestria. It is, for the moment rumored, a united effort to form a solid alliance and break the ongoing glaring contest across oceans between one another. Princess Celestia is due to make a statement within the hour at the Royal Gardens."

I rolled my eyes, groaning, bringing a hoof to my forehead to rub it. "Lovely. I get a whole seven days of leave and they take five of them from me."

"They'll have you in the city for that, won't they?" Ray, now essentially wide awake, turned to me with a look of concern and question.

My eyes closed, nodding my head slowly. "Likely putting us with local law enforcement to hold off protesters, if there are any."

"I would trust that there will be. Just stay safe, will you? For me?"

"I count on it," I said, mustering a small, reassuring smile. My hoof looped itself around the back of his neck in an amiable gesture, which seemed to clear up the air a little bit.

Ray parted his maw, silently yawning, licking over his lips. "Listen, I... I've got to be at the skyport by eleven. I'll have to stop by my hotel to get my things and check out." He stopped, turning to me with a warm smile. "You're more than welcome to tag along if you'd like. That is, if you have the time."

In all actuality, my best option would be to get packing to head back later tonight. Though, it couldn't hurt to spend a few more minutes with Ray. The sergeant only expected me in Manehattan some time tonight, and it was only roughly a quarter 'til ten in the morning.

"I don't see why not. It's not urgent that I report right this second, you know? Besides, we can get breakfast along the way somewhere."

Ray nodded, smile growing a bit. "I would like that." His stomach then rumbled. "A lot, actually. But, uh, let me pick this time, alright?"

At that, the two of us shared a laugh. I hopped up from the couch, rounding the corner, but not before looking back at him. "Hey, er... you're more than welcome to use my shower. If you want to, that is."

***

After showering and having a nice breakfast at a diner a couple blocks from my apartment, we ventured to West Canterlot to Ray's hotel so he could grab his luggage and check out. The process itself was fairly short, and far more simpler than my hotel experience in Coltlumbus during ConFest. That was an absolute nightmare.

We strolled around for a little bit to kill some time before Ray needed to be at the skyport, and to walk off all of the food. I suppose either of us should have expected to be stuffed like a Hearth's Warming turkey at said establishment that had the name of Granny's Home Cooking.

Not that I'm complaining, it was some damn good food, I'll give it that, and wonderful service. Whether or not the restaurant was actually owned by an elderly mare, those running the place seemed to have a decent idea of one's meal preparation. Any more eaten, however, and we would have fallen into a food coma, which would result in Ray missing his flight.

It amazed me that, in the present age of air travel, that zeppelins and other types of airships were still a form of long-range transportation. For Canterlot, it only made sense, considering how limited room was available for a modern airport. Perhaps if there weren't a city, maybe, but what would be the point then?

The Canterlot Skyport rested along a cliff overhang on the far west side of the city. Each mooring point accommodated two to three airships per, some branching off to other docks. Half of them were elevated above others to practically stack the aircraft atop one another to conserve room.

Between the docks and the city sat a three-story terminal building, constructed with a blend of modern and the ivory architecture that consisted of much of present-day Canterlot. The face of the structure toward the docks was primarily a wall of glass in center that sloped horizontal near the roof, complimenting the sleek blue and silver, aerodynamic, airship-like shape of the terminal.

Inside was no different than the train station in terms of seating in the waiting lounge, check-in counters, a couple of travel shops, a cafe on the first floor where a scent of freshly brewed roast that permeated the air originated, but the central hall was far more spacious and open where one could look straight up to the ceiling where the glass curves to meet the roof.

The two upper floors had balconies, connected on either side of the terminal by moderately narrow walkways only wide enough for two ponies. Up on the top floor was more of a private lounge for ponies with paid access to exquisite dining and entertainment. Damn Canterlot nobles...

Ray and I spent the few minutes we had with each other exploring the building as much as we could, and as far as either of us had access to. We mainly scoped out the little shops, stocked on wall shelves, hangers, box-bins, and tables with knickknacks and souvenirs of Canterlot; pretty much the basic necessities for a travel shop, along with a wall of magazines that covered every topic there is to discuss, rows of candy and snacks, and a couple of miniature refrigerators full of ice-cold bottled drinks.

I made sure to stock him up with a small bag of goodies to tide him over for the ride. While Ray turned his attention away to the magazine rack, I sneakily paid for a little stuffed fox and wrapped it up in a second bag to hide it with his snacks. It would be the first thing he sees more than likely, and whether or not he unwraps it before he leaves, I knew he would enjoy a little companion to travel with.

It wasn't more than a few minutes after, however, when the boarding call came. Passengers began gathering near the exit that led out to the gate docks and filing out to the aircraft. Before it was Ray's turn, I gently tucked the bag in an outer pouch of his luggage, and the two of us exchanged one final embrace.

"Have a safe trip. Text me when you land," I said, chin on his shoulder with my hooves looped around him.

"I will," replied Ray, closing his eyes and smiling. "Text me when you get off the train. You might not have cell service in the tunnels."

"Yeah, true." I chuckled softly. I broke the hug, placing a hoof on his shoulder, my eyes gazing into those gorgeous emeralds, twinkling in the bright, natural light of the terminal.

Ray leaned forward, rubbing his nose against mine and flicked his tail. Brief of a gesture, yet affectionate all the same, and enough to bring a gentle warmth to my cheeks. Turning around, Ray looped his hoof through the handle of his rolling baggage and hauled it behind him on his way to the door. He glanced back over his shoulder to wave one last time.

Raising my hoof to wave it back, I watched as he ventured out the door along with his fellow passengers, and loop around the corner out of sight, on his way to the bridge where his airship had docked, waiting to depart.

I headed outside through the revolving door we first entered and went along the side of the building, leaning against a safety railing to watch. It wasn't particularly difficult to make out Ray's designated vessel, as there were only three present at the time. One was disembarking, the other sit idle with no activity whatsoever, and the third had a group of ponies approaching it, before being greeted by a ticket agent to check their boarding passes.

Before stepping aboard, a unicorn royal guard enveloped each passenger with a glowing aura, as well as their luggage. From a distance, I could make out their shiver as the magic ceased, determining it to be a spell to check for anything illegal—the conventional way.

Once the process completed, a pair of unicorns dressed in orange vests for easy spotting untied the ship from the dock, and it began to drift freely at a gentle pace. With a puff of smoke, the single turbine at the rear of the passenger cabin began to sputter and roar to life. Even from where I stood, it sent a subtle breeze sweeping across the block as it rotated a full 180 degrees into a departure position.

In just a few minutes, the airship pulled away from the dock and turned away from the city, vanishing behind the massive architectural masterpiece known as the Canterlot Palace, the sole structure to dominate Canterlot's rather shallow skyline.

When it disappeared from my line of sight, I turned and started for home. There was much to be done still, and it was imperative that I be in Manehattan by dusk.

***

While long and uneventful as usual, the ride on the train to Manehattan was a rather unsettling one. Two units of royal guards, armed to the teeth with spears and swords in leather scabbards looped around their barrels and attached to their armor pieces boarded the carriage ahead of mine. One or two filed in to my car when theirs presumably became overcrowded.

On one hoof, it was relieving to see security forces already en route in preparation. It told me that Canterlot was in no silly mood for this event, but on the other hoof, it meant one of two things; everything will be tight in and around the city, meaning more time annoyingly spent places attempting to reach someplace else, or there is a significant threat—which would not surprise me in the least. Threats were a part of the princesses' travel routine by now, and have been for decades, if not centuries. Besides, this was Ajerstan we were talking about.

The two of Celestia's soldiers to have moved went without their helmets for the majority of the journey. They spent the time conversing, strictly maintaining casual topics but also occasionally bringing up plans to remind themselves of their duties as soon as they get off the train.

It wasn't my place to eavesdrop; in fact, getting caught doing so would lead to embarrassment on my part, and either two individual, or two dozen guards breathing down my neck. As such, listening without appearing so had since been an acquired talent of mine. I could be staring out the window at the scenery as it raced by while picking up every word spoken from those guards and not so much as flick a look in their direction. It proved effective, though all I ended up making out was some idea of their assignments, which turned out to be nothing more than what I anticipate for myself come Wednesday.

But, atop all of that, a peculiar sense of secrecy carried on in the carriage, along with a touch of tension and worry. The guards were keeping something hushed up, that's for sure. I didn't blame them, that is their job to maintain the confidentiality of the matter. They, however, were aware of something that I was not. At least, not for the present time. Whatever it may be, it tingled in my mind that it would be worth mentioning on Hardstaff's behalf in a briefing tonight or tomorrow.

***

The greyish-white pegasus strolled along the sidewalk down one of Kings' busiest streets. The abnormally cool temperature of the mid-summer afternoon prompted him to wear no more than a navy zip-up jacket, adorned by the white and grey crescent moon-and-anchor emblem of the Lunar Navy.

His path took him far south of Joint Base Manehattan, along a coastal corridor known as the South Front, on the opposite side of Manehattan Island. Situated in South Front was the Port of Manehattan, the busiest harbor in Equestria. If it weren't for his own personal mission, Anchorage would have spent the time shipwatching, like he did back on his home island.

The Port of Manehattan spanned roughly two miles from north to south, beginning at the southern banks of the Trotson River. While for the most part off-limits to non-personnel, where Anchorage needed to go remained accessible to an extent. Along the outside of the ten-foot barbed-wire fence that marked the port's limits stood a small two-story building constructed of brick and concrete, bland in its nature, albeit crucial to the harbor's stringent and meticulous operations.

Anchorage jarred open the glass door with a simple yank of the handle and took a few steps inside the paper and ink-scented building; quiet, apart from a ringing phone somewhere in the back, hooves typing away on a keyboard, and pieces of paper shuffling.

He strolled past the receptionist's desk and down a short corridor that led into a small room of cubicles, and a large wrap-around desk occupied by one sangria-coated earth pony mare. "Hey there, Cherry," he began, leaning over a half-wall between the walkway and her desk.

Glancing up from her computer screen, the mare in question, Cherry Lilly, blinked in partial bewilderment behind her round-edged glasses. "Anchorage? What are you doing here?" she said, taking off her glasses and folding them up, maintaining a low volume of her voice.

A small grin crossed the northern stallion's muzzle. It was, without a doubt, relieving to hear that particular voice to him. "So, uh, listen. It's been a while; we haven't heard from each other in a couple of months, but I need to ask a favor."

Cherry leaned a bit back into her chair, arching her eyebrow at the pegasus' moderately questionable demeanor. She, however, chose not to ask further about why he was bugging her at work. "What kind of favor?"

"I need you to run a manifest search on a ship, dating back to March of this year. Can you do that for me?"

Consequently, the sailor's request set off a few alarms in the mare's mind. It wasn't her job to disclose such information if the authorities were not involved. She knew he was in the Navy, and herself retained enough insight to acknowledge that he wasn't somepony to take part in an investigation unless it directly incorporated him.

Cocking her head to the side, Cherry gave Anchorage a look of complete and genuine query. "What for?" The tone of her question came off with a trace of doubt surrounding the matter.

"Work purposes that I cannot impart, I am afraid," he countered, the smirk on his face telling the mare otherwise, and he knew that. "Prench Trading Ship Alder, most recent recorded voyage."

Cherry Lilly turned her attention to her computer screen, pretending to ignore the pegasus. If it were anything she hated most, it was having her work interrupted, especially by somepony who still did not belong in the building to begin with. However, it grabbed her attention when Anchorage produced a bag of money from the pocket of his jacket and bounced it around in his grasp to clink the coins within.

"A whoooole one-hundred bits, and it could be yours if ya help a stallion out. Will you?"

The mare's honey irides dashed between the sack of money dangling from his hoof to Anchorage's crafty smirk. With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she slid her chair back and began typing away. "One moment."

Anchorage eased himself into a comfortable leaning position with his forehooves crossed and hanging over the desk lip, observing the sangria earth mare go to work. The process went on for a couple of minutes, and after more typing and a few clicks of her mouse, a window of data regarding the fated tanker ship opened in center of the screen.

As Cherry read over it, she coiled her head back. "Huh, interesting. There's no manifest record of the Alder in March, or... this year at all."

Anchorage's ears stood up attentively, and his look of wits shifted to one of puzzlement. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"It says here that... actually, the Alder was removed from service back in October of 2007, ran aground intentionally to be scrapped in Valkyria."

The pegasus blinked a couple of times, squinting, staring right at the mare. "That's not possible. It... it was sunk in a storm back in March!" he sputtered, narrowly maintaining a decent inside volume. He leaned over the desk, stretching his neck out just a bit to catch a glance at her computer screen to see for himself.

Cherry peered over at the bewildered pegasus, affirming the information shown. "I'm sorry, Anchorage, the records show it has been out of service for eight years."

Slowly, Anchorage withdrew from the screen and stood up straight. He gazed forward in contemplation, maw parted slightly. When he finished with his thoughts, the bag of money dropped onto the mare's desk with a thud and the rustling of coins within.

"Thank you for your help, Cherry, I appreciate it." And, without another word, he walked away.

"Hey, wait! Anchorage! Is something wrong?" she called, standing up and glancing down the hall after him, only to receive silence in response as the pegasus headed out onto the street.

Once outside, Anchorage veered left and started down the sidewalk. He lowered his gaze, musing over what he had just moments ago discovered. The Alder wasn't taken out of service, I stood on it... We stood on it... We watched it sink.

There was something he was missing. Something huge. So big that it was beyond the reaches of the Port of Manehattan's knowledge. It raised many alarms in his mind, and he now understood that what he is after was far larger than he had anticipated.

He froze in his tracks when the realization struck him like an oncoming train, eyes shooting wide open and head jerking up. Without a moment of hesitation, Anchorage spread his wings and leaped skyward in a single bound, soaring above the buildings and darting toward base.

***

The last few minutes of the journey were unsettling ones, to say the least. When it came over the intercom that the Manehattan Police and the Equestrian Army would be performing a routine security sweep of the train upon arrival, those in my carriage began swiftly preparing themselves for pat-downs and checks of their luggage.

I didn't pay much mind to it, as such precautionary measures are a norm ahead of big events, especially political ones, and there was nothing of mine to hide. While I typically arm myself with a fold-up knife, this time I had managed to forget it at my dorm back on base, and it would be quite a time before I am capable of scraping together the funds to arm myself with a sidearm, or something of the like.

No one but the two guards in the carriage stood when the train slowed, pulling into the station. It was with the strength of their muscles from months of being beaten into shape in the Academy that prevented them from so much as stumbling when the train jolted to a halt. They, along with fellow armored stallions and mares, exited the train. It left a question sitting unrestfully in the air, regarding the soldiers' negligence to search them as part of procedure.

Replacing the guards, a pair of soldiers donning a green and tan digital pattern of camouflage boarded, loaded rifles hanging around their necks by straps. The buttermilk-yellow one wore the insignia of a corporal, and the bombay-brown unicorn accompanying him, a private first class. Both wore sleek black sunglasses, even under the cover of the station platform.

"All right, we are going to need everypony to stand up and stay put. We will have all of you out of here shortly, this is just a routine screening. Private First Class Hamstring here will take your bags for x-ray scanning, while I will be checking each of you for weapons or anything that could be utilized for the harm of others," the corporal addressed.

At his word, every pony in the carriage not yet standing rose to their hooves, including myself. I placed my backpack on the center aisle and let the unicorn do his job. Most would expect a scanner machine to be used in this situation, although a screening spell for those who understood it well enough to perform it proved to be the superior mode of checking for contraband. However, in most cases, the magic itself was primarily for medical use, such as detecting internal wounds and broken bones.

Though invisible to our eyes, the private first class searched every piece of luggage one by one, only dropping them back off to their rightful owners when the spell was complete. In the meantime, the corporal thoroughly patted down pony after pony from the front of the car back and releasing them when done. I was among the few toward the rear of the carriage, and it was a bit over five minutes when it was my turn to be searched.

"Will you open your wings for me, sir?" he requested, and as such, I spread my wings as far as they could go. Not wearing clothes was a plus, considering that may take extra time, and realistically, only a pegasus' wings could hide something under or between the feathers fairly well.

Against a tickling sensation caused by his hoof searching through my feathers, I maintained a composed posture while the corporal did his job. But, what surprised me the most when he finished was what he said. "Are you military?"

I blinked a couple of times, dumbfounded. "How can you tell?"

"You are unusually built for a pegasus of your size," he remarked, staring through pitch-black shades. "If I am to judge based on your coat, and your cutie mark, you are stationed here in Manehattan, at the joint base?"

I continued to stare in mild disbelief for a few lengthy moments, before bobbing my head in a nod. "Yes, sir. Corporal Star Shooter, Lunar Marine Corps, 25th Battalion, 4th Marines."

With an acknowledging nod, the soldier brought his com speaker up and spoke into it. "Got a Marine here, requesting direct transport to Joint Base Manehattan."

"Is something wrong, soldier?"

Setting his hoof down, the corporal simply smiled. "Not at all. We are told to provide transportation to the base for anypony called in." He then cordially smacked my shoulder and picked up my backpack for me, which I took from him. "There'll be a taxi for you outside, and it is fully paid for."

I nodded once, slipping my hooves through the straps to let it sit on my back. "Thank you."

"Not a problem. Have a nice day," he said, before moving on to the next pony to pat down.

With that, I stepped off the train onto the platform and made my way to the staircase. On each of the platforms stood pairs of soldiers, and along the walkway that crossed over each track leading to the main hall patrolled city guards straight from Canterlot, as well as more batches of armed soldiers.

After the short walk to the front of the station, and out onto the streets, there sat a taxi carriage with my name on it guarded by another soldier, who went as far as opening the door for me. I thanked him, hopping in, and sat back for the short ride across the bridge.

***

"Hey! Where have you been, Star? Hardstaff's getting everypony together in the duty hut. Said he's going to brief us on the Wednesday's summit meeting."

Now in uniform, I strolled up beside Nightpath, walking with him. "I just got back in town not a half hour ago, Night. You know, I would have enjoyed a full week of leave, and I'm sure you would have, too."

Night let out a little huff through his nostrils, flicking his ear. "Well, you're not wrong. But, service comes first. You understand that."

My head bobbed in a single nod. "Of course. I knew that after I signed up."

Our journey brought us to a small structure on the east side of base. Only two six-inch wide windows per wall occupied the faces of the ground-floor building to minimize natural light within. Immediately through the twin glass doors sat rows of chairs, a whiteboard with a pull-down projector screen covering it. The Marines in our unit were just gathering and taking their seats, with Hardstaff along the far wall, scrutinizing every pony to enter the building.

I could tell, just from one glance in his general direction, his unusually tense body posture and the roughened demeanor on his countenance, that Sergeant Hardstaff meant business.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" he began, nodding to the final Marine of our unit to enter, who dimmed the lights and took a seat in one of the few remaining fold-up chairs placed in tidy rows.

"So, as I am certain y'all are well aware by now, the princesses are expected to make a trip to Manehattan within the next two days. Their reason? A well-anticipated summit meeting with top ambassadors and other diplomats of the sovereign nation of Ajerstan, to work out, quite possibly, a peace treaty of sorts.

"Take notes if you must, as everything we will discuss for the next forty-five minutes is crucial information," he concluded, making his way to a projector at the rear of the room. With the flick of a switch, a square of bluish-white cast upon the screen in front of us.

Trotting back to where he stood, now illuminated by the projector's light, his form shadowed behind, Hardstaff opened up a laptop computer placed on a table beside him and held his hoof on the touch pad. He turned his focus toward us, continuing.

"As ya know, security and safety of the ponies are our top priority over the course of the week. Princesses Twilight Sparkle and Cadence are due to arrive sometime this evening by rail and will be escorted to their designated hotel rooms in lower Manehattan, while Princesses Celestia and Luna should arrive via airship at 1400 hours tomorrow afternoon."

Hardstaff tapped a button on the keyboard, switching the projection to a map of the whole city and its boroughs, showing the planned routes. Picking up a pointer, he tapped the far end on top of Manehattan Central Station, followed by Manehattan International Airport, both taps fortissimo to further snatch our attention.

"As for our guests—their plane will touch down tomorrow evening, where we will rendezvous with them on the tarmac and be a part of their detail. They will be brought to the embassy in Midtown to get settled in before having dinner at 2000 hours with Princess Twilight, as per request on her behalf. It has many of our generals and commanders fuming for the sole fact that it will require extra security for an extended period of time, and will cause major disruptions for the dinner rush across Manehattan Island."

Pressing a key again, the projector displayed a zoomed-in street grid map centered on one particular, enormous structure complex that lies in perfect center of lower Manehattan, in the shadows of countless skyscrapers.

"This, right here, mares and gentlecolts." Hardstaff stopped to circle his pointer around the rectangular-shaped location. "This is where it all comes down to. At noon precisely, the summit meeting shall take place at the United World of Countries Building. It has been determined that there is no better place to hold the conference than here, smack dab in our own backyard."

Next, he pulled up an actual image of the building and the surrounding high-rises. "Each tower, every shop, any apartments will be inaccessible to the public for a three block radius surrounding the UWC. The brightest minds have been on top of this since last night, and any point which could be used for a possible enemy to target either one of our princesses, Ajerstan's ambassadors, or simply innocent bystanders is closed off. According to them, it varies by height of building and angle, and thus each potential 'point blank', as we are calling it, will be fortified by Equestrian Army, Lunar Marines, and, you guessed it, Royal guards."

In the row ahead of us, a red-and-blue-maned pegasus raised his hoof after having them crossed for a time. Hardstaff set his sky-blue gaze on him, nodding. "Go ahead, Private First Class."

The pegasus shifted in his seat to straighten his spine. "What's our use for Wednesday, Sergeant?"

"Good question. I am glad you asked, Storm Lancer," Hardstaff gave him a single nod. "Orders for us are simple; security forces, on the ground. The majority of us will be inside the UWC, mostly inside the central hall, where all of the talks will occur. We will be joined by Sunshine Company, one of Princess Celestia's top guard units and one of the few companies in the Royal Guard that provide as her personal escort. For this trip, she will have two.

"As such, Princess Luna will be convoyed by her House Guard for the flight and will be teaming up with our sister squadron for the chariot into Manehattan and will provide an armed watch. Princess Cadence will be traveling with her Crystal Entourage, as well as her husband, Prince Shining Armor and Captain of the Royal Guard, and Princess Twilight Sparkle will join them upon arrival."

When he finished, the projector screen turned blank with bluish-white light once more, and Hardstaff stood in the middle of it, the light simply shedding over the dark stallion's form. "This is the big game we are talking about, Marines. I expect everypony here to be on their highest alert, and remember your training if the time calls for it. Any further questions?"

Author's Note:

Ten more chapters until the Eye of the Storm concludes.