Actions and Reactions: Saving Twilight Sparkle

by Lord of Flies

Chapter Seven: Forgiveness

Twilight slowly woke from her unconsciousness. The sound of beeping reached her ears. An EKG monitor? Where am I? A hospital?

Her vision swam. Blinking her eyes, the princess noticed a blob of light green off to her right side. She again blinked, and the blob resolved itself. A mare in a light green medical uniform with a nurse’s cap atop her head stood next to her bed checking the source of the beeping, which was, in fact, an EKG machine. “Hello? Miss?”

The nurse yelped and turned toward the princess. “Oh,” the nurse sighed, “good morning, Princess.”

“Where am I?”

“In Canterlot Memorial Hospital.”

“Canterlot Memorial?”

“Yes, you were injured last night by an assassin at the Palace. Do you remember that?”

Twilight frowned as her brow furrowed. “Yes, yes. I also remember the Praetorian assigned to protect me engaging in combat with the assassin… the assassin fleeing… my mother arriving and trying to heal me… I can’t remember anything else.”

The nurse nodded, “That is understandable. You were unconscious when you were brought in last night.”

“What about my mother? Praetorian Long Stride?”

“Well, your mother was treated for slight Overflow exposure, and she was released very quickly. Your Praetorian was most likely sent back to the Praetorian Barracks by the High Princess.”

Twilight nodded. “Good, good. I’d hate to see anyone else suffer because they tried to help me.”

“Alright,” the nurse said, smiling, “I’ll take these readings to the doctor assigned to your care and bring you something to eat.”

“Thank you.”

************

Ponyville

April 16, 4E 2010

Ponyville Train Station, 9:35

Rainbow Dash stepped off the train and glanced around. “Where’s Pinkie? She’d normally be here to greet me.”

Scratching the back of her head, Dash shrugged and headed to the front of the train station. To her dismay, Pinkie wasn’t there either. Dash sighed, crossed the parking lot, and called a taxi. She pulled open one of the back doors and entered the car, sitting on the back seat. Removing her barracks cover, Dash rested the hat on her lap. “So, Rainbow,” the taxi’s driver prompted, “what’s with the hat and coat?”

“I’m a Second Lieutenant now.”

“Air Force?”

“Yes. Just finished officer training a couple of weeks ago.”

“Ah. Well, then, where to?”

“Sugarcube Corner.”

“Alright, then.”

***

“Alright, we’re here, Rainbow.”

“Thanks.”

“That’ll be three Koares.”

Dash pulled out a three Koare bill and handed it to the driver. Dash exited the taxi, putting her barracks cover back on as the car drove away. She walked away from the street, and up to the front door. Pausing slightly, the Second Lieutenant noticed a small colt looking out of one of the windows. “Rarity’s kid, Arenka Cashmere. That means Rarity’s here as well. Excellent,” Dash mused, “easier to surprise her that way.”

Arenka smiled and waved. Dash returned the wave, smiling slightly. Pushing the door open, Dash heard the signature bell mounted above the door ring, announcing her entrance.

Some of the customers seated at the tables closest to the door looked over as they heard the bell ring, but went back to what they were doing as soon as they saw the figure who had entered the bakery-confectionary. “Oh, hello, Rainbow Dash,” a voice to her left said, “I was wondering who the military officer who entered was.”

Dash turned her head to look at the speaker. It was Cup Cake, one of the owners of Sugarcube Corner. “Hi. Is Pinkie here?”

“What? Oh, yes. She’s upstairs… In her room.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Dash turned and began walking toward the stairs that lead up to the loft above the shop. She stopped. “Also, I’d like my usual. I’ll pick it up on the way out.”

“S-sure.”

Dash heard the slight stutter in the mare’s voice. “If you’re worried for me, I’ll be fine. I am a military officer, after all.”

She crossed the room and walked up the stairs.

************

A knock came to the door. Braeburn stood and walked over to the door, growling, “Who’s up here? Ah thought Ah told Mrs. Cake that we aren’t to be disturbed.”

“It’s probably Mrs. Cake, checking on us.”

Pinkie’s response made sense to the stallion, who nodded. The visitor, however, was not Mrs. Cake. Instead, it was Rainbow Dash, dressed in an Air Force officer’s uniform underneath a maroon ulster coat. “Hey, Braeburn,” the mare said, in a noticeably hushed voice, “fancy seein’ you here.”

“You, too, Dash. Why are ya here?”

An arm rose, and pointed at the pink mare behind him. “I’m here to see her.”

“Alright, alright, you can come in.”

“Thank you.”

Dash entered the room, and Braeburn closed the door. “Hey, Pinkie,” Dash said, smiling, her voice returning to its normal tone.

The pink mare stood and crossed the room in a flash, smiling. “Dashie,” she said, “you came to visit!”

“Yeah, I did.”

The two hugged, and Pinkie asked, “How are Mr. and Mrs. Cake doing?”

“Very well. No lines or anything.”

“Okie-dokie, more time to spend with Braeburn!”

Braeburn chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.

“So, Dashie,” Pinkie prompted, breaking the hug and taking a step back, “what else are you here for?”

Dash smirked, and replied, “I need to talk to Limestone.”

Pinkie tilted her head to the right. “Why? You two aren’t exactly the best of friends.”

“I know. I ain’t makin’ a social call.”

Pinkie tilted her head the other way, and then spoke, “Oh! Right! She owes you some favors. That’s why you’re here, calling one in, right?”

“Yep. I don’t have her number, though.”

“It’s okay, you can use my phone,” Pinkie said, grabbing said device from inside her shirt, finding Limestone’s contact, bringing it up, and handing the cyan pegasus the phone.

“Thanks.”

The phone on the other end of the call rang for a bit, and then Limestone’s voice came through. “This better be important, Pinkie. You know better than to call me while I’m at work.”

“Hello, Limestone,” Dash said, starting to pace, the smirk not fading, “I don’t have your number, but Pinkie does.”

“What do you want?”

“You owe me some favors.”

“Fine. What do you need?”

Dash picked up a picture of Limestone, Pinkie, Maud, and Marble all together at some reunion somewhere and looked at it. She rested it back on the dresser she found it on.

“Well, Captain, you work in Imperial Intelligence, right?”

“Damn it. Yes.”

“I need information.”

“On who?”

“Someone named Lambda.”

Limestone was silent for a minute, but said, “Alright. I’ll get you your information. Call me if you need anymore information.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Dash ended the call. “Thanks for letting me use your phone, Pinks. I’ll just copy Limestone’s contact into my phone.”

“You’re welcome, Dashie.”

Braeburn, slightly confused, asked, “Dash, how’d ya know that Limestone’s a captain?”

Dash undid the collar of her ulster coat and tapped the collar of her uniform. “In that picture, Limestone’s got those double bars.”

“Oh. Oh. Okay.”

************

“Princess Twilight, can you try moving your legs, please?”

“Yes, I’ll try.”

Twilight blinked and frowned. “This is isn’t right. I should be able to move them.”

Twilight grunted and growled. Trying again to command her legs to move, Twilight’s expression slipped from irritation and into one of shock. “I-I can’t move my legs.”

The doctor nodded. “I understand, I’ll let the High Princess know.”

************

Imperial Palace, Canterlot

One month later…

Dawn Shrike's Cell

Dawn Shrike frowned. Sitting in a cell in the Imperial Palace was not anything she wanted to do for fun. She grunted as her right leg wound began aching. She been hit by several rounds from that Praetorian’s sidearm. One of those 13mm rounds had struck her in the leg, other hit her in the left shoulder, and the rest had tore pieces out of her wings.

But, for her son, Dawn would do anything. Him and that griffon prince, Windrider, too.

***

Dawn was leaning against a wall, whimpering. Her wings were damaged, her left shoulder and right leg were bleeding, and the pain was affecting her judgment. She needed to get the wounds treated.

“Dawn?”

She gasped. A very familiar voice reached her ears. Turning, she saw a griffon standing down at the entrance of the alley she was hiding in. “Jürgen? You’re okay?”

Windrider nodded. “Yes, Dawn. I’m okay. It’s a lot harder to kill a griffon prince than you think.”

“I figured as much.”

Dawn limped toward the griffon, and hugged him. “Sorry about the blood.”

“It’s fine. You need to come in. They’ll treat you fairly.”

Dawn looked down. “Okay, for you and Slate, I’ll do anything.”

“Slate?”

“Yes. I’ll tell you all about him later.”

***

Her cell door opening alerted Dawn to the fact that she had visitors. She sat straighter.

The Praetorian from last night entered, his viridian eyes betraying his feelings toward the pegasus. His helmet was in his left hand, revealing hair that shared its color with the fuchsia plant. It was a welcome splash of nature on an otherwise metallic colored pony, or so Dawn thought.

“Princess,” he inquired, “are you sure about this? She could still be dangerous.”

The next voice Dawn heard made her eyes widen, and her breathing quicken severely. “Yes, Lieutenant,” Princess Twilight responded, as the alicorn entered view, seated in a powerchair*, “I am sure.”

The powerchair had no discernable means of movement, but Dawn suspected that the chair had tracks. Ornate, golden, and made to the princess’s certainly exacting standards, the powerchair was very recognizable, Dawn was sure.

Tears welled up in the pegasus’s eyes. She flung herself at the feet of the crippled alicorn. “I-I’m so sorry! I never wanted this! Not attacking you, or crippling you!”

The Praetorian raised an eyebrow, doubtful. “Someone put you up to this?”

“Yes! I don’t know who they are, but they gave me this.”

She pulled a small medallion from her clothes. The Praetorian stepped forward and took the medallion. He let out a subtle growl. “Of course,” he murmured, “why am I not surprised?”

“Lieutenant?”

The Praetorian stepped in closer to his charge, and whispered, “This medallion bears the emblem of the Mouvement de Fascisti. I understand that they are opposed to having royalty in power.”

“They wish to do away with royalty?”

“Oh, no, no. They simply want the royals to not have any say in government, not remove them.”

“Then why would they hire an assassin to kill me?”

The Praetorian sighed. “I don’t mean to offend you with this next statement. But, you’ve basically upset the balance of power in the Empire.”

“What do you mean?”

“An Alicorn Princess has incredible power in the political structure of the Empire. Considering that she can directly support one of the political parties and can push her supported party’s agenda at the meeting of the High Princess’ Inner Circle.”

“I can do that?”

“Yes,” the Praetorian said, “the High Princess can explain more. We’re not here to discuss that, though.”

“Right, right!” Princess Twilight chuckled, nervously. Thankfully, Miss Shrike didn’t hear any of that.

Dawn remained at the crippled Princess’s feet, subtly crying. Princess Twilight reached out with her magic and lifted the sobbing pegasus to her lap. Dawn seized up as the Princess’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. “Don’t worry, Miss Shrike,” Princess Twilight said, quietly, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“W-what will y-you do, then?”

“Forgive you.”

“Why?”

“Because you have someone that depends on you, don’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

“You need to be there for them, and I understand that you basically had no choice, as you are an assassin, after all.”

“O-oh. Thank you.”

“You are very welcome, my dear.”

Author's Note:

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