A House Divided

by Weponizedtism

Chapter 3: The Meeting

Morning had scarcely broken over the southern Appleloosan sky when a knock at the door woke up the southern general. “General, your meeting is in an hour!” his adjutant called out through the door.

Braeburn had requested his adjutant to wake him up early for the meeting with Confederate High Command, and he had dutifully complied. “Thank you Thunder Bolt! I’ll get ready, please fetch me the report on the supply situation in our section of the fortifications of the Dason-Mixon line!” Braeburn called back as he slowly got up from bed, the half-written letter on his desk would have to wait.

“Yes sir!” the pegasus NCO answered and trotted off, his hoofsteps rapidly fading down the corridor.
After getting up from his officer’s bed he groaned, the army had decently furnished his quarters yet he still longed for his bed; at his farm. Yet, orders were orders, and due to the mounting tensions with Equestria president Neighvis had ordered all generals in reserve to sleep in the central army HQ.

Just after he had finished getting ready his adjutant knocked again, “Breakfast and the report, sir!”.

“Come in Thunder Bolt!” General Braeburn called back.

“I’ll give you a rundown of the report as you eat sir!” the blue pegasus told him as he put the tray with coffee, eggs, and apple slices on his desk.

“Thank you, let’s start.” the general said as he took a freshly cut apple slice with his mouth. The partially penned letter having been set aside in a corner of his oak desk.

The meeting took place in one of the large briefing rooms. Four armed soldiers, in their well kept gray uniforms stood guard on both sides of the towering dark oak doors with the government seal of the Confederacy masterfully carved into its midrails. And though their presence had been a visible signifier of the VIP attendance at the morning's meeting, Braeburn was still surprised by the presence of the high ranking ponies at the meeting; this was no mere situational briefing. President of the Confederacy and leader of the Coltlumbia party, J.D. Neighvis sat on the center of the long wooden table, his stoic ash gray face showing a glint of both frustration and determination. Sitting to his right were the secretary of war and supreme commander of the Confederate Army field marshal Trotbert E. Neigh, and former sheriff of Appleloosa field marshal Silverstar. Both stallions were hurriedly discussing something amongst themselves. However it was the ponies sitting on the left of President Neighvis that truly shocked Braeburn and made his ears drop back in concern. Besides the conscientious gray stallion sat secretary of state Yume Spurs, the light green mare looked like she hadn’t slept at all last night. Her blue eyes darted from page to page as she shifted and organized a stack of papers before her. Besides her sat Lucky Streak, the elegant white unicorn mare had served as the Las Pegasus ambassador since before the Great War. She had worked for both the Pine Chest and Rockfeller governments, becoming somewhat of a celebrity across the confederacy throughout the war. She was listening attentively as the thestral ambassador, Tetecuhtin Tliltic Ocelotl, whispered something into her ear. The dark azure noble bat-pony had been sent as representative of the thestral Tlatoani when Tzinacatlia formalized the Mutual Defense Treaty with the Confederate States three months ago.

On the opposite side of the table sat a good portion of the Confederate Army’s generals. As Braburn walked into the room, he saw his cousins general Apple Ale and quartermaster general Apple Fitter talking to each other. Their high positions in the Confederate army, along with Braeburn’s, was a testament to the prominence of the Apple clan in the south. Seeing him, the two mares pointed to an empty chair beside them. As the yellow stallion took his seat the room fell silent as President Neighvis stood up to speak.

“Fillies and gentlecolts, the purpose of today's meeting is to discuss the now imminent threat that Canterlotian revanchism poses to our continued independence and existence!” The gray stallion solemnly stated as he put down a copy of the day’s edition of the Appleloosa Whig on the table, the headline read “Equestrian imperialism encroaches!”; a photo of Equestrian soldiers entering Vanhoover printed below it.

“The princess issued a reintegration ultimatum to Vanhoover and they folded, I have little doubt the attention of those northern carpetbaggers will now turn to us, we must be ready!” The President finished, his anger uncharacteristically showing in his face.

For a brief moment a tense silence fell upon the room as the gravity of the situation fell upon everypony, Braeburn felt his stomach sink as he looked at the uneasy expression on Apple Ale’s face.

“As you are all aware we have always been conscious of this possibility” Neighvis continued, his voice once again calm.

“We have constructed the Dason-Mixon line for this very scenario, and I’m confident all members of the southern block, including the confederacy, are willing and able to come to each other's defense.” He said, turning to the two ambassadors; the thestral and unicorn nodding in agreement.

“Mr. President, wait. What about Stalliongrad? Why didn’t they intervene to keep the royalists from Vanhoover aren't they both marksists?” General Burnside Ale interrupted, her confusion showing in her tone as she tried to process the situation.

“The Stalliongradians are more concerned by the threat of the Griffonian Empire to her socialist satellite in Nova Griffonia. We think Celestia’s diplomats used possible support or guarantees as leverage. Additionally, chairpony Pentsushenko is keen on cooperation with Celestia. ” Yume Spurs answered.

“So much for marksist solidarity” Lucky Straked scoffed with a chuckle.

“We will not fold so easily” The ash gray stallion continued “For whichever of our nations they come for first, we must answer back as one.”

Braeburn hoped this was just a bad nightmare and that at any moment he;d just wake up in his room. No such relief came. As he looked around the room everypony that had been surprised by the news seemed to have recovered from the initial shock. Apple Ale still looked somewhat concerned but her expression had now become one of acceptance of the situation. Apple Fritter looked more worried though this was most likely due to her contemplating the daunting logistical task ahead of her. Burnside Ale and the other generals simply listened attentively as field marshal Trotbert E. Neigh started laying out the overarching defensive strategy for the confederacy. The meeting carried on, yet now the air in the room now seemed heavy and suffocating.

“... and general Braeburn will continue to command the positions north of the capital, we’ll divert more funding to shore up and expand the fortifications. We believe they will come with the most force here. Every mesa must be a redoubt, there must be a gun behind every rock, we must bleed them dry.” The experienced southern field marshal continued, looking at the still reeling stallion.

“General, are you ok? Do you understand your assignment?” Field marshal Neigh asked, noticing the apprehensive state of his subordinate.

“Sir, those are ponies you are asking me to ‘bleed dry’, were our friends and family from past years, our allies from the Changeling invasion!” the yellow colt answered back trying to form into words all the feelings that raced through his head.
“Is there really no other option? The whole continent has already been ravaged by two great wars, do we really wish to push it into another conflict? The cemeteries across Equestria and Equus are already full! How many friends and family are not going to make it home this time?!” He continued letting out, the mounting frustration that had been building through the meeting spilling out in his words. He could have phrased it better, since president Neighvis immediately spoke up.

“General Braeburn, are you stating that you are refusing to carry out the orders explicitly given to you by your commanding officer?” the president asked, the apparent calmness of his voice did little to hide the implicit threat of the question.

“No, sir. It’s just… are there really no other alternatives? No way to negotiate with Princess Celestia?” Braeburn responded, calming down and trying to give a more measured and satisfying response to his commander and chief.

“General Braeburn, we will certainly try to exhaust all diplomatic options. No one wants another war, but I must remind you of the oath you took to defend the Confederacy, its constitution and her citizens.” The veteran southern politician said more calmly, gesturing to his secretary of state. The green mare nodded in agreement. “Like you said, many have paid the ultimate price, but they fell defending their country, their homes, their freedom. We fought to keep these things safe from an authoritarian foreign monarch, I’ll be damned to tartarus if we are just going to give them up to another.” The dignified gray stallion concluded, the conviction of his words reflected in his determined gaze.

“Braeburn, I am aware you and the Apple family as a whole have lost a lot in the last years.” Silversar spoke up, his tone more sympathetic to his old friend’s anguish. Looking at the three members of the Apple family present, the former sheriff continued “Years ago, when I asked you to stay in the south I told you that it was here where you could protect and serve those nearest to you. I know it wasn’t easy for you then and I ain't gotta be easy now. So I must ask you again, are you willing to stay and defend the South?”

The question felt like some pegasus had dropped a ton of bricks on his chest. The meeting had already been going on for hours and the scorching southern summer sun was already beating down upon the jewel of the south, the air in the room felt stuffy and heavy. For a moment Braeburn thought he would faint, that he would falter. After a brief eternity of silence he finally the reluctant general spoke “Yes sir, I’ll defend the capital as ordered.” The Equestrian Royal Army and the Apple clan would be bled dry on the arid hills of Appleoosa.

Comments

[Bronycommander]

Sometimes, politics make stupid decisions that make Things worse

[shining paladin]

11643153
so true my friend