A War

by Comma Typer

Press Release

Over a month later

Joe, the bulky unicorn donned in his gray uniform and gray hat—his cutie mark covered by the overalls—floated a plate of bread and soup to Press Release.

"Thanks," she said, grabbing the only slice of bread there, sitting and eating at the counter.

On display near the end of the counter was bread. Just bread.

Moving on.

The floor retained its checkered pattern, and it was the only part of this building that survived unchanged. The pink tables and the stools in pink fabric were gone, replaced by other ones untarnished and mundane with no paint, no cloth—only brown and gray. The place was indeed full, but what the rest of the ponies there ate were the same two things: bread and soup, specifically onion soup.

Did it smell good? Yes, it did. It had that appetizing scent to it.

The tall windows had been remodeled into thin slits, so gone, also, was a nice view of the street outside. The lights hanging above were changed out for brighter bulbs, but it was morning outside, so they were not on.

Then again, it was hard to tell if it was morning outside if it were not for the cold winds breezing inside.

"You look familiar," Joe said, eyeing Press Release and her fedora. "Have you been here before?"

She smiled. "Yeah. Last time I ate here was two years ago...and, to the very day, huh?"

Joe tapped his chin. "Yeah. Now I remember—the day when this war started, when Sombra declared war on us."

Press Release tilted her head a bit. "Didn't you use to sell donuts here? I remember eating donuts here last time."

Joe moaned, slumping on the counter. "Renovations. They told me, 'Why waste sugar on us when the soldiers need it? They need the carbo.' Didn't give me time to do a soft closing. Just straight up telling me to let them fix it. I got kicked out, drifted around Equestria looking for a job—finally landed in Thoroughbred, but didn't last three weeks before I got framed."

Sighed.

"Now, I'm here. My sentence is working from six to ten and going back to my cell when my shift's done."

The two of them alone at the counter, hearing the occasional shuffling of plates and spoons and hoofsteps.

"I'm not the only one," Joe said. "Where do I get my onions? From an onion family over at Ambling. Whole family's hired an army of their own—you see this big brick building with a dozen chimneys. Everypony in that town coughs a hundred times a day, but their onions are food and it's good food for the troops. But, they work long, too—heard a few stories about how the parents worked almost a full day once a month."

Press Release glowed her horn, grabbing her notepad.

Stopped and put it under her hat.

"And, that's it, really," he said with a given sigh. "Princess Celestia will be giving a speech at sunset, just like last year and the year before. At least she's honest about everything, hiding almost nothing."

She raised her head a bit.

"Almost nothing, miss."

Press Release looked at him. Took a spoonful of the onion soup. Looked at him again.

Joe noticed the empty seat on Press's right. "What happened to the guy? Your reporter friend, that white pegasus?"

Her ears perked up. In a doleful tone: "Eff Stop's missing. He was last seen at the New Front, flying in the Badlands to get a picture of the battle before he got shot down."

Joe lowered his head.

Silence.

Press Release stirred her soup with the spoon, watching it become a savory maelstrom.

"I didn't know, miss," Joe whispered, before turning away.

She sighed.

Continued to eat her simple meal.

---

Press Release sat by the steps to Canterlot Castle.

The entrance was indeed foreboding, but, under the sunlight, it was merely a big fancy castle with nothing scary about it. Dozens of guards stood in the towers, at the doors, on the balconies—several pegasi flew about it, covering the whole area around the castle like vigilant eagles.

By the steps leading to the grand double-door entrance, two guards were talking.

"I've been hearing rumors about the Princess going to another dimension recently," said Securus, the guard closer to the Press's bench.

Depth Defense, his friend and soldiery chum, yanked him by the neck. "Do you want us to get imprisoned again?!" he confided to his ear. "It's a secret, and it's horrible it's leaked out!"

"But, I heard there's civilization in the other dimension," Securus said. "If there's civilization, they have weapons—maybe even better weapons, weapons that none of us ever dreamed of. If the Princesses ask for some—"

"Sharp Fence said the other dimension has no magic," Depth Defense said. "We can't defend ourselves with magicless weapons."

Securus gasped. "I thought you said you don't like rumors!"

"It's hard to not know them when they sneak up on you and whisper secrets without permission."

Then, Depth flicked his head away from him.

"Wanna bet?" he offered Securus, not looking at him and staring out to the open road.

Securus scratched his head. "What do you mean?"

"That it will end by this Hearth's Warming?" Depth asked.

Securus rubbed his cheeks. "I...don't know. I've lost the last two bets, and I'm on a shoestring budget now."

Securus sat down, looking at his hunched up hindlegs.

"What will I do, Depth, when we're done fighting and we win? Wake up, exercise, fight, go to bed. Rinse and repeat. It's the same thing, the same cycle. I've...I've never done..."

Depth trotted up to him. "Never done what?"

He looked up. "You've only seen my cutie mark once like...five years ago, when we first got in the E.U.P., right?"

Depth smiled a bit. "So long ago. I don't even know what it is anymore. Good thing I still remember mine."

Securus sighed. "A spotlight."

Depth nodded. "Oh, now I remember! You wanted to be a great actor someday!"

Securus smiled, nodded, too. "Yeah. I explicitly told you on the first day that I wanted to serve a few years in the army to toughen up, see some things and maybe get acting wisdom somehow. They called me mad, but now...I probably was mad because I'm stuck here."

Depth looked at him.

Sat down.

Those two guards protecting the castle in their seated positions.

"Then, you wanna bet that we'll win before Hearth's Warming? See Sombra get killed?"

Securus shook his head. "I'd rather let him suffer. Suffer a lot for a long time, or forever!"

Depth grinned. "The sooner, the better. Bereaved souls here are crying out for revenge. It'll be the day of reckoning when the Empire falls."

Press Release stood up from her bench, levitating her notepad.

"Hey!" Depth shouted, quickly standing up and pointing at her. "You better not be recording confidential information! You hear me?!"

Press galloped away from the two guards.

---

Press Release stood on the platform at the train station, looking left and right.

No train in sight.

Waiting there in the morning.

Seeing the road of deserted shops and houses, splendid enterprises and mansions with naught but themselves, no one tending to their care.

An orange filly coming by on a scooter.

Press squinted her eyes.

She could discern a few things about her: the filly was a pegasus, had a dark helmet on, and was carrying two saddle bags.

Scootaloo jumped out of her scooter.

Caught it with her hoof.

Landed on the platform, right in front of Press.

"Did you like it?" Scootaloo asked, looking up to the mare.

Press was about to take a step back. Smiled. "Yeah. It was cool. Scooters aren't that common from where I come from."

"Really?!"

Press nodded. "Nothing to rave about." Eyed the saddle bags. "So, what are you doing? Are you going to visit your family far North?"

Scootaloo shook her head, laughing. "No, silly! I'm going to volunteer!"

Press choked, almost dropped her hat. "You said what now?!"

Scootaloo nodded. "I thought about it for a very long time with my good friend Apple Bloom, and I decided that I was good enough to serve at the front!"

Press did a double take. "Woah, woah! Trust me, you don't want to go there. I don't know who this Apple Bloom of yours is, but she's either joking or out of her mind!"

"Actually, she didn't want me to go," Scootaloo said. "But...so what? I don't plan to stay over there for the rest of my life! That's where ponies face the trials of their lives and survive, becoming better ponies, and I'm a hundred percent sure I'll be a better pony! I don't want to be namby-pamby—Namby Pamby herself works at the huge food processing plant in Manehattan with her folks!"

"And you think that's good?" Press asked, horrified.

Scootaloo nodded.

The shrill of the whistle.

"Ooh!" She jumped, flapping her wings and hovering a bit before she fell down. "That's my cue!" Faced Press with excitement, unable to contain her grin. "When I come back, I'll tell you so many stories about my adventures!"

"Would you excuse me for a moment?" Press asked in an uneasy voice.

Scootaloo nodded. "Sure thing!"

Press ran to the other side of the platform, took out her hat, saw her notepad and quill inside.

Breathing fast.

"I-Is this what we've b-become?" Press asked, airy—closing her eyes, placing her hooves on her eyelids. "N-No...Eff, p-please help her!"

Not noticing the butterfly that had landed on Scootaloo's snout, playing with her as it flapped its wings and amazed the filly.

Then, the butterfly flew away, out of the station and into the air, above the buildings of Canterlot and high up in the sky.

Comments

[Sir Budginton]

I knew this would happen but it hurts all the same